Very Twisted Things (Briarcrest Academy #3) (22 page)

“Something in you is drawn to him … you can’t control that. Maybe you’d like Geoff? I can always set you up?”

She let out a squeak. “Oh God, Spider hates him.” Her eyes flicked to me. “Oops, sorry. He was your fiancé at one time, so he must have some good points.”

“He’s a good guy. I think Spider and Sebastian brought out the worst in him.”

She studied me. “Getting off the subject of me, either wildcats were mating last night outside the cabin, or you got lucky.”

I gripped the reins. “I told him I loved him, and he—he just clammed up.”

Her eyes hardened. “Tate men are notoriously pig-headed. I suggest you play dirty if you want him, V. Of course, I gladly volunteer my services to make him jealous or pick you out a sexy outfit …” She snapped her fingers. “Wait, there’s this butt model you should meet. He was an extra on the set when we filmed one of the music videos. Anyway, his name is Baxter, and he’s likely gay—aren’t all the hot ones?—but who really cares about that when his bum is tight enough to bounce a quarter off of? He’s an ex-football player from Iowa and as country as a Blake Shelton song. He’d make some great eye candy. Want me to call him?” She fished out her phone from her saddlebag and wiggled her eyebrows at me.

“Does he like to dance?” I hadn’t danced since my prep school dances.

Her eyes glowed. “Can he dance?
Can he dance?
Hello? He was
in
a video. He’s got moves like Jagger.”

“I don’t know. It seems childish to flaunt a guy in front of Sebastian.”

She flicked her reins at me. “Shut the feck up. Hasn’t he rubbed your nose in his and Blair’s affair? Make him pay, V, make him pay. For all womankind. Plus, you need the cheering up—and maybe I do too. We’ll show those two pinheads that rode off and left us that all we need is each other. Girl Power.” She clapped, and even though my heart ached, I laughed. Mila might look as prim as a schoolgirl out on a field trip, but inside she had the heart of a beast
.

“For two thousand dollars, I could get a sex-swing installed. But V was the only one I wanted to use it with.”

—Sebastian Tate

“THAT’S AWESOME, LEO. I can’t wait to see the new digs when I get to Dallas in September,” I said to my cell as I strolled with Spider and Vilma Lopez, a journalist from
Rock Indie Today
. We just finished the photo shoot and were headed to Rio’s in Beverly Hills for our lunch interview.

Leo chuckled. “Yeah, it’s bigger than the Taj Mahal. Nora’s got a giant office for her clothing line business, and I ended up with the smaller one—of course. We’ve got a huge theatre room, an Olypmic-sized pool—even Gabby’s room is unbelievable.” He paused. “This is probably boring as shit to you. You’re the one with all the excitement … gearing up for a movie role, working on the new album—”

“No, I do want to hear about it.” Plus, I didn’t want to tell him that I didn’t get the part.

“Yeah?”

He loved talking about his family, and I grinned even though he couldn’t see me. “Spill the beans, man. Tell it all.”

He settled in, his deep voice describing life at Chez Tate. “Nora went over the top with the nursery. She had this artist come out and paint these constellations and unicorns on the wall—it’s fairytale land in her room. I’ll be upfront with you—Gabby is spoiled rotten. She gets whatever she wants between me and Nora and Aunt Portia. I mean, she’s one, but she runs the house.”

I laughed, and we chatted a bit more until he put Nora on.

“How’s this V chick doing? I hope she’s ready for questions, because I want to know all about the girl that Lion Boy is bringing home. Frankly, I’m shocked you’d even bring her back to BA and around all those crazy people we went to high school—”

“About that. I’m not sure if she’s coming.” We hadn’t talked in the three days, not since the camping trip. I cleared my throat. “She’s—I don’t know—it’s weird right now.”

She got quiet and I could imagine her standing in her new house, narrowed eyes, trying to suss me out from two thousand miles away. A notorious people watcher, she had a big brain, and her favorite pastime was figuring out what made people tick.

She said, “I’m hearing some uncertainty in your voice. What’s going on? Do I need to come to LA and kick some girl’s ass? Or are
you
the one with the problem? Hmmm, come on, you can tell your stepmom.”

I groaned. “Just because you’re married to the man who raised me does not make me your stepson. Just
ewwww
.” I paused. “But back to V—we got physical and things are off.”

“Which is code for you had sex, and now you don’t know how to handle it,” she said. “Typical.”

I didn’t want to get into this. “Just put Gabby on, will you?”

She laughed. “Fine, avoid the issue—just like your brother—although I have trained him in the past few years to talk about his feelings …” she trailed off and I heard muffled laughter and then silence.

“Nora?”

I could hear rustling sounds—and then sighs.

“Are you getting busy with Leo while I’m on the phone with you?” I called out.

From next to me, Spider did a lewd gesture with his hands and Vilma’s eyebrows went up. Meh. It was Leo and Nora and they were known to be lusty.

“Nora, I’m hanging up if you don’t say anything.”

Her disembodied voice came through. “Okay.
Enough
. Stop kissing me there, Leo.” She giggled.

I shook my head. “Get a damn room and put Gabby on.”

“Okay, okay, here she is,” Nora said, and I heard Gabby breathing into the phone. I went into
crazy uncle mode
, as Spider called it, and started in with some baby talk and then sang the “Superman” song for her. It was our thing. We passed people on the street who stared, but it didn’t slow me down. I pictured her in Nora’s arms, clutching the phone to her head, her blue eyes—which were just like mine and Leo’s—as big as saucers as she hung on to my every word.

I said my goodbyes when we were led to our table at the Rio. We settled in and ordered drinks. I got a beer and Spider ordered a double shot of Jack.

Vilma began her interview as we ate. A pretty Latino with long dark hair and nice curves, Spider’s eyes kept drifting over her assets. Thinking of Mila, I barely resisted the urge to kick him under the table,

“Our tag line for the cover is going to be
The Best in Indie
.” Vilma said. “It’s quite an honor for the Vital Rejects to be on the list, and I just wanted to say that when this story came across my desk, I got giddy. Your music is one of my personal favorites. Can you tell me what’s in store for the band next? Is it true there’s a movie in the works?” she asked us.

Uh, no.

I cleared my throat. “We’re working in the studio on a new album. We don’t have definite tour dates yet, but they are coming. As far as movie rumors, we’ve not signed any deals.” In fact, I’d been toying with the idea of ditching Harry and looking for other representation.

She scribbled in her notebook and then looked back up. “And the question everyone wants to know is are you still dating Blair Storm? You haven’t been seen in public since the
Hollywood Insider
ran photos of you with a dark-haired girl. Can you tell me more about who this girl is and is she someone special?”

My mouth dried. I knew the tough questions were coming, and I could handle reporters, especially ones who tended to blush every time I looked at them, but this time I froze. I realized I wanted to be seen with V in public—even if we were just friends.

I must have waited too long to answer. Spider jumped in. “Blair is such an incredibly beautiful person, both inside and out, and one of our dearest friends, especially mine. She is an inspiration to me.” He leaned in. “In fact, she’s donating fifty thousand dollars to the Lyons Place Orphanage here in LA. You
must
ask her about it. Her fans would love to hear how Miss Storm supports the needy.” Yeah, Spider had a vindictive streak.

Vilma wrote in her book furiously while I just shook my head.

“So you and Blair are just friends?” she asked.

She wasn’t going to let it go. I licked my lips. “Blair’s a very special person in my life.” Special like a lunatic. “And that’s all you need to know.”

“What about the Mystery Girl, Sebastian? You’ve never come out and talked about her. Why all the secrecy?”

I stiffened in my seat, setting my beer down carefully as I eyed Vilma. No one was going to harass V.

Vilma picked up on my body cues. “Does that question upset you?”

I smiled tightly. “Of course not. The so-called Mystery Girl is not anyone we know. She happened to get sick at the restaurant and I helped her. That’s all.”

“He’s a fucking hero. That’s what you need to publish.” Spider waggled his eyes at her and ran a finger down her arm. “Now, when are you and I going to have drinks—alone? I need some advice on this new tattoo I want to get—maybe a brown recluse on my arse. What do you think? Would you be scared of that?”

Usually, I groan at Spider’s pick-up lines, but he was flirting to save my ass.

Everything zoomed out when I happened to glance across the restaurant and see V at a table near the window. I did a double take. She sat with Wilson and a thirtyish-looking man who was currently staring at V like she was his chocolate soufflé.

I inhaled sharply and jerked my eyes back. I didn’t want to cause any undue attention her way, but why was she here and who was she with? Wilson was fine—he was in his sixties—but the other guy …

Even from here, I could see that she looked beautiful. Her hair was wild as it fell on either side of her angular face. She’d gone heavy on the lipstick and mascara and it suited her. As I watched, she turned to Wilson and I got a load of what she was wearing—a slinky as hell silver top that plunged deep between her breasts. You could plainly see the curve of her tits … that I’d sucked and loved and held in my hands just three days ago. I felt my face go red with anger. One thing was certain, she’d evolved since the days when I’d perched on my patio and spied on her.

No more lonely girl who wore band shirts and ate cheese puffs and Oreos.

She laughed suddenly, the sound clear as a bell, and all the memories from the camping trip came back.
She’d told me she loved me.
And yeah, my chest had seized at the thought of saying it back—because first off, it would be a lie, and secondly, I had never said those words to a girl.

Since then, she hadn’t returned my texts, nor had she played her violin outside.

Yep. V was pissed at me. And she had no fucking right.

I glared at them. Then why was she in such a good mood when I was miserable? I sipped on my beer and pretended to eat as Spider and Vilma kept the interview going. I jumped in a few times, but mostly I let Spider handle it.

“… mate, you okay?” Spider’s voice penetrated my thoughts a while later.

I looked at his face, down at my half-eaten sandwich and at the empty chair next to him. “She’s gone?”

Shit, I was out of it.

He nodded. “I saw V, too, so I told Vilma we had another appointment—I’m meeting her for a drink later tonight. I told her I’d give her more scoop then.” He paused, flicking his eyes over at V. “You wanna get out of here? I’m itching for a cig.”

“Thanks for covering for me.”

He shrugged. “Consider it me saying I’m sorry for messing with Mila. You were right … I’m not boyfriend material. I can’t be good for a girl.” He cleared his throat, a surprisingly serious look on his face. “We never had sex, you know. Third base, yeah, and there was that time in the pool—”

“Stop right there.” I held up my hand. “Keep your dirty deeds to yourself. Just stay away from her unless you want to put a ring on it.” I stood up and tossed back the rest of my beer.

He stood and slipped on his blue leather jacket. “Okay. I’m headed to get a haircut. Steve’s holding a spot for me. You wanna go?”

“You go on. I’m going to say hi to V and Wilson.” And find out who that guy was.

Spider fidgeted. “Don’t make a scene, man.”

I reared back. “Holy shit, what alternate universe is this? You covered my ass at lunch, you did the right thing by ending it with Mila, and now you’re telling
me
to not make a scene? The guy who smashed up five guitars on stage last year alone?”