Toxic (Addiction #1) (32 page)

The guys worried about him and didn’t understand why, if everything was okay with Maisy, he still separated himself from her. They were cordial to each other, said their hellos, but that was it. Landon wanted to scream whenever he was in a room with them because all they did was lust after each other, but they were both too stubborn to give up whatever happened between them.
 

It had been a week since the big feud, Twisted Perfection was quickly climbing the charts and becoming more well-known and the crowds outside the venues and inside were reaching astronomical levels. It seemed like everything was going great, except for the fact that Maisy and Rook sauntered around the venues and buses miserable as hell and bringing down the morale.
 

Rook continued to stay sober for the concerts, which the boys were grateful for because when he was sober, he was on fire while he was on stage. He owned the crowd and showed them why they were so successful. Off-stage, that was a different story; he occasionally had his binge nights, but there was not much they could do about it. As long as he was sober when they performed, that was all they could ask for, especially since he was such a moody little bitch.
 

Landon was worried about Rook, but knew he could take care of himself; the person Landon was truly concerned about was Quinn. She wasn’t looking good and he knew he had to do something about it. He just was unsure how to approach her.
 

He was meeting her for coffee once she got out of a meeting with the label about the style budget. They were extremely happy with her work, which was why she was allowed to travel around with them because she took her job seriously, she didn’t just follow around her boyfriend and play house on a tour bus. She distinctly set apart everyone’s style and made them into individuals by picking out their best attributes and highlighting them. She was a real attribute to the two bands and the fact that she was sick again truly worried Landon because, not only could the bands not afford to lose her, but Landon wouldn’t know what he would do with himself if he ever lost Quinn.
 

Landon saw Quinn approach him so he straightened out his shirt and got up from the chair he was sitting in. He had already grabbed the coffee and handed over her cup when she stood in front of him.
 

“Thank you.” She took a sip and moaned in delight. “You’re too good to me.”

Landon laughed. “If only women were that easy.”

They walked outside and headed for a bench that was under a giant tree.
 

“Oh, come on now. You don’t have a hard time picking up women. You just have to flash those Cross boy eyes and you could have any woman you want.”

Landon thought to himself, not any woman.
 

“How you doing, Quinn? It seems like you haven’t been yourself lately.”

Quinn studied the cup in her hands as she turned it around, avoiding his question.

“Quinn…”

“I’m not doing very well, but I don’t think I can tell you about it.” Quinn said, while avoiding eye contact.
 

“Quinn, we tell each other everything.”

“I just…I just don’t want you telling Grey anything. Our relationship is already strained.”

“You’re my friend, Quinn. Your confidence is safe with me. Go ahead.” He playfully nudged her.
 

Quinn sipped her coffee and pulled her legs up to her chest so her chin rested on her knees. Landon tried not to think about how flexible she was, that was just asking for trouble.
 

“I’m seriously depressed.” Landon reached out and grabbed her hand to offer comfort. She smiled at him. “I haven’t…been eating properly and I know it’s wrong but I don’t know what else to do, how else to combat the turmoil that is running through my body. I feel so ugly all the time and I know not eating isn’t helping. I know a body of just skin and bones isn’t attractive; I just can’t help it. It’s like I have a constant stomach ache and don’t want to eat…ever.”

Landon pulled her in close so her head rested against his chest.
 

“What has your stomach hurting?”

“I don’t think I love Grey.”

Landon almost stood straight up from his seat, but didn’t since he was holding Quinn. She didn’t love Grey? What the hell was Landon supposed to do now? Grey was his brother, but Quinn trusted Landon not to say anything. Shouldn’t Grey know though, that his girlfriend of many years was contemplating her love for him?

“What do you mean, you think?”

“I don’t get the same feeling around him as I used to and I know he doesn’t love me.”

“That’s not true, Quinn. He loves you so much.”

Quinn shook her head. “He might love me, but he’s not in love with me. He doesn’t want to be with me. He doesn’t look at me as if I’m the last woman in the world and he couldn’t live without me. You know, the way Rook looks at Maisy. I want that. I think Grey looks at me as if I was the same girl who he met in high school. I’m not that girl anymore, Landon, and I don’t want to be that sweet and innocent girl anymore. I want to live, do something crazy, get a tattoo, have my nipples pierced like Willow’s.”

Landon shook his head. “You don’t want your nipples pierced. That shit hurts.”

“You know what I mean. I feel stuck, in a rut, depressed as hell. I want more.”

“You can still do that with Grey,” Landon suggested.
 

Landon had no clue why he was trying to push Quinn toward Grey when she clearly said she didn’t think she loved him anymore and since Landon was head over heels in love with Quinn. This was his chance to tell her how he felt about her, to move in and finally claim what he’d wanted ever since Grey brought Quinn home in high school.
 

He couldn’t do it though. He couldn’t do that to Grey and he couldn’t put Quinn in that kind of position; it wasn’t fair to anyone. Even though he so desperately wanted to take Quinn back to his dressing room and show her how much he wanted her, he wasn’t going to. Instead, he was going to be the friend she relied on.
 

“No, he thinks I’m the girl next door, but I don’t want that. I want to be like Willow; I don’t want to give a flying fuck what people think about me.” Quinn tapped her mouth with her finger. “I think I’m going to get a boob job. I have a lot of money saved up. I think a boob job is just what I need to start my new image.”

Jesus.

“Quinn, stop. You’re perfect. You don’t need to change anything.”

“No, you’re wrong. I need something new. I just don’t know what yet. I think a boob job is in order.” Quinn got off the bench and patted Landon on the face. “You’re a good friend. Thanks for the coffee.”

Landon watched Quinn walk away and debated what the hell he was going to do. Quinn didn’t need a boob job. Landon was serious when he said she was perfect. She was so beyond perfect and she didn’t even see it. He needed to make sure she did nothing to her body that she would regret later on. Wherever this new found craziness came from, Landon had to make sure he kept an eye on it because he didn’t want Quinn walking on the tour bus one day looking exactly like Willow.
 

***

They were all lounging backstage, fiddling with their instruments, listening to the roadies make sad but comical attempts at impersonating Rook’s stage presence and picking away at the food that was provided. Rook shook his head and laughed at the roadies whose impersonations were spot on. Cruz was laughing so hard from the way the guys held the pretend microphone, played with the “audience” and ran their hands through their hair, his cackle was bordering annoying. The whole act made Rook think about how he might have to assess his stage presence, then again, he never got any complaints.
 

Cruz was sitting on a couch right next to Maisy. His arm was wrapped around Maisy’s shoulders and they were both laughing and enjoying the show in front of them. Rook eyed Cruz’s arm and was tempted to rip the offending appendage off and shove it up his so-called friend’s ass but they kind of needed him on the guitar. Cruz’s amazing ability to pick at a guitar was the only reason why Rook kept his distance.
 

Rook was nowhere near the point of moving on after his short stint with Maisy, he was starting to believe he never would be. He tried to convince himself that it would happen, but he knew he was wrong. Maisy was different, she was something special, someone he didn’t deserve but couldn’t let go.
 

Her laugh rang through the room, seizing Rook’s heart. He missed her, he missed the way she looked up at him with her beautiful brown eyes, he missed the way she would lightly kiss him in the morning, he missed holding her and feeling her soft skin against his. Damn him.
 

Cruz pulled Maisy into his chest and kissed the side of her head. Rook felt sick to his stomach. Why Cruz was being such an ass was beyond him, but Rook couldn’t take it much longer. The thought of Maisy being held, touched and kissed by someone else was incomprehensible. The mere thought of it almost brought him to his knees. He hated that he was so affected by her, despised it but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight in front of him.
 

A couple of the roadies were now talking to her while Cruz held her around the shoulders. They were all laughing and having a good time. Rook lost it. He couldn’t feel his legs, his stomach started to roll and he needed to leave the room before he embarrassed himself.

Before he left, he glanced once more at Maisy. She made eye contact with him at the same time. Her eyes were full of sorrow, but her face was smiling and laughing. Did she feel bad for him? Did she pity him? He didn’t need her damn pity.
 

Rook grabbed his guitar and went into his dressing room where he could have some peace and quiet. He closed the door and thought about playing his guitar, but was too tired and emotionally worn out, so instead he took up residence on the couch and buried his head in one of the pillows. Closing his eyes, he tried not to think of the edgy angel that taunted him at night.
 

Sleep eclipsed his body. Rook didn’t know how long he was asleep for, but he woke to the shifting and dipping of the couch he was sleeping on. He turned to see who was next to him when he made eye contact with those gorgeous chocolate pools.
 

Sitting straight up and rubbing his eyes, he said, “Uh, hey what’re you doing?” Rook scooted to the far side of the couch.
 

Maisy twisted her hands in her lap as she studied the coffee table in front of her, avoiding eye contact with him.
 

“You looked upset. I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” Rook snapped, not meaning to.
 

Maisy finally made eye contact with him as her eyes widened at his cruel tone. She started to get up from the couch when he stopped her.
 

He blew out a frustrated breath as he tried to put his emotions in check. “I’m fine,” he said in a calmer voice.
 

“You don’t look fine. Are you…using again?”

Rook rolled his eyes, irritated by her assumption. “No, not currently and I wouldn’t necessarily call dabbling in some pot, using. If I was shooting up heroine and sniffing coke off the pee soaked toilet seat, then you would have room to be concerned.”

“Any drug is using, Rook.”

Rook ran his hand through his hair. “Are you here for a reason? Or are you just here to mother me?” He knew he was being an ass, but he couldn’t help it and frankly she was pushing his buttons. He was unfortunately programmed to be hot-tempered, another attribute to thank his father for.
 

“Sorry for caring. For some reason I actually forgot that you live to be a dickhead.”

She got up and Rook instantly felt empty as she walked to his door to leave him behind, like she should.
 

“You fuck him yet?”

Maisy turned around slowly as she thought about his statement. Blazing fury ran through her eyes. Rook actually felt nervous for a second. She was a small thing, but the look she was giving him was screaming that she was going to sacrifice him to Satan.
 

***

Maisy didn’t know why she went to go check on Rook, he had been nothing but an ass to her since he accused her of using him, but for some reason she had the idea that he was hurting and trying to push her away by being an ass. He was doing a good job and while they were all hanging out backstage, she had a weak moment. That was why she found herself in Rook’s dressing room, wishing she was backstage with everyone else instead of being accused of fucking another guy.
 

She turned around from exiting the room that seemed like it was closing in on her and gave Rook her best death glare. How dare he accuse her of such a thing? It took twenty-one years for her to finally give herself to someone and now he thought she was running her pussy open for business?

“Excuse me?” she asked.
 

Rook shook his head. “Forget it.”

“Oh, hell no.” She stood in front of him and said, “How dare you accuse me of something like that. You really think I’m some kind of slut now, spreading my legs for any guy that comes my way because you finally took my virginity? Do you really think that low of me?”