Groupie Love (A Rock Star Romance) (Love in Shades) (14 page)

Chapter 36

Mackenzie

My eyes blur as I stare at the words on the page.

I am dying a slow death…

I slam my textbook shut and drop my forehead to the table in front of me. There’s hardly anybody here at this on-campus coffee shop, so I sling my sweater over the back of the chair next to me and get comfortable. In a matter of minutes, I’ve dozed off to a world where macroeconomics class doesn’t exist and all that matters is Everson and me.

No! No more dreams about Everson!
He hurt me.

The sound of my phone chiming rouses me from my sleep.

It’s Willow on CheekyChat. I hit ‘answer’ and slip my ear buds on. “Hey Willie. What’s up?”

Her avatar beams at me. “Okay – I’m gonna tell you something and you’re
not
gonna hate me. Promise?”

I arch my eyebrow skeptically. “Um…what did you do?”

“You’re not gonna hate me. Promise me that,” she insists.

And immediately I know that she’s up to some bullshit, but I promise not to get angry at her because I know her intentions are usually good. “So, what is it?” I ask, eager to hear what she’s been scheming.

“I got us tickets to the White Hot Coals show tomorrow,” she announces reservedly, trying to gauge my reaction.

“You did
what
?”

“I got us tickets…to the White Hot Coals show…”

The White Hot Coals’ cross-country tour has finally brought them to the Big Apple. I’d be lying if I said haven’t kept abreast of the band’s tour schedule and reading concert reviews online. Still, I can’t go to the show.

“Everson Coal is the last person I want to see,” I scowl bitterly.

“Mac, we both know that’s not true. C’mon. Admit it. You miss him.”

Whether I miss him or not is not the point. The point is that he’s a lying, cheating asshole who thinks that he’s entitled to treat women like disposable diapers just because he happens to be one of the most successful musicians in the industry. He’s bad for me. No matter how many songs he writes about me. No matter how much I miss him.

Fucking Everson Coal was reckless of me. I knew that from the start. Now, I’m paying the price and my heart feels sore and raw and open.

“Look Mac, I got us some really shitty seats way at the back. Everson will never even know you were there. Come on for me. I really want to go and Jules is in Paris so I’m stuck with you.”

“Wow, thanks. I feel honored, Willow.”

She shrugs. “Just tellin’ it like it is…Will you come? Not for that jerk-face Everson. For me.”

A sigh pours out of my mouth. She’ll keep hounding me until she gets her way. And honestly, a part of me wants to see that bad boy rocker again. On stage, in his zone. But I won’t admit that to Willow.

“Okay, I’ll go with you,” I say donning a pout.

There’s a glint in her eyes as she bounces in her seat. “Awesome. I’m so excited.”

Chapter 37

Everson

I pull in a steely breath and knock on the hotel room door.

“It’s open,” a breathy voice chirps from inside the suite. That’s when I notice a thick piece of paper folded into a small square and slipped into the lock to keep the door slightly ajar. I shove the door open and take a heavy step inside.

The room smells of strawberry-scented bubble bath and is lit only by candles. The bed is covered with rose petals and a tray of crackers with fancy cheeses sits on a table next to a bottle of champagne.

The expensive stuff.

She really went all out
.

The woman stands facing the floor-length window that overlooks Times Square. Her hair is pulled up into a messy bun high on her head, soft tendrils falling whimsically at the nape of her neck. She’s wearing nothing but a black garter belt, stockings and sky-high black heels.

Click.

Michael stretches his phone out and takes a picture. Shit – I’d forgotten that he was even here with me.

She spins around, her heavy breasts bouncing with the movement. Her eyes settle on Michael and me, and she lets out a piercing shriek.

“Hello Tasha,” I say smugly as she darts into the bathroom.

“What the fuck, Everson? I never signed up for a threesome,” she yells. “Who the fuck is that?” She pokes her head out from behind the bathroom door. Her face has turned a sickly shade of blue.

I give her a self-satisfied grin. “Ah – where are my manners? Tasha Warren, this is Michael Moretti, my
lawyer
.”

“What? Your lawyer?” she shrieks, her eyes are big, blue orbs bugging out of her head.

Michael puts his briefcase on the floor and takes a few steps towards her, his hand outstretched. “Pleasure to meet you.” He stops just short of the bathroom door. “Oh wait…” He snaps another picture.
Click
. He tosses her a grin. “Everson has told me
so
much about you.”

Tasha slams the bathroom door shut. “Delete that fucking picture! Now!”

Michael looks at me with mock-regret on his face. “Oops! I just texted it to my assistant to have it catalogued along with the rest of the evidence we’ve gathered as we build our sexual harassment case against you….
Sorry.
”

I stifle down a laugh.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Tasha growls as she steps out of the bathroom, barefoot and cloaked in a plush, white terrycloth robe.

Michael gives her a curious look. “Oh, Everson didn’t tell you? We’re thinking of suing you for sexual harassment. Actually, Everson said you were the one who suggested it…Smart lady, Ms. Warren. Anyway, our main piece of evidence is a video of you the last time you dropped your clothes for Everson. Remember? At the concert in Chicago?”

Tasha’s cheeks are red but she refuses to back down. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says in a low voice.

I pull up the video on my phone and hand it Michael, who in turn, passes it along to Tasha. I see her face go slack as she watches the video of herself strip naked and proposition me in my dressing room after the Chicago concert.

This is quite entertaining, actually
. I chortle as I pull up a chair and plop a cube of cheese into my mouth.

“You – you can’t use that in court. It’s – it’s inadmissible. I’m sure. I didn’t know I was being filmed. My lawyer will get the judge to throw it out.”

Michael and I both know that I have no intention of suing Tasha for sexual harassment – that would make me look weak to my fans. But from the look on her face, I know that she has no idea how empty my threats are. I just want to be released from that damn recording contract.

“Ms. Warren, my client really hopes that this
misunderstanding
between the two of you never has to make it to court. He’s hoping that you’d be amenable to resolving the issue quietly, but signing this document.” He reaches into his briefcase and takes out a thick document. He hands it to her.

Her eyes scan the first page. “What is this?” she asks.

“It’s a release form. It says that you hereby agree to release the White Hot Coals from all the provisions of their recording contract with Angel City Records.”

Her eyes narrow at Michael. “Why the hell should I sign this?”

I harrumph loudly as I slide out of my seat. “If you don’t sign it, I leak the video of you blackmailing me for sex. I’ll release the text message where you asked me to meet you here today. I’ll send your father the pictures Michael just took. I’m sure he’d be so proud of his little girl.”

Releasing those images puts me at risk of catching a lawsuit for revenge porn, but Tasha doesn’t know that, and wielding them as weapons gives me tremendous power over her.

Tasha swipes wildly at me and I duck out of the way just in time.

Michael steps in between the two of us. “Look, Ms. Warren, sign the document and have it returned to my office by tomorrow morning. And your embarrassing little problem gets swept under the rug, like it never happened.”

She glares down at the paper and growls. “Get out! Get out now!”

You don’t have to tell me twice, crazy lady-jerk
. I lead the way to the door.

Just as we’re about to slip into the hallway, Michael turns back to her. “Have a lovely rest of the day, Ms. Warren. It’s warm out. Take advantage of the sun.” I guffaw, sliding my sunglasses down into my face.

My lawyer’s one bad-ass son of a bitch!

But now, it’s time to go win back my girl.

Chapter 38

Mackenzie

I watch Willow clamber down the aisle, careful not to topple the bag of gummies, the bucket of popcorn and the tray of large sodas that are clenched to her chest. I’m glad she got aisle seats; it’ll make it easier to slink out of here once the show is over.

“Woooohooooo!” she shrieks as the band starts playing one of their more up-tempo tunes. “I loooovvvveeee this song!” She does an awkward little jig and I remember immediately why she gave up ballet; the girl has two left feet.

I reach out and grab one of the sodas from the tray and take a long gulp. My throat is tight and parched. My palms are hot and sweaty. I look up at the jumbo-sized monitors looming over the stage and see Everson, shirtless and gorgeous making love to his guitar, sending the crowd wild.

Fuck – he’s so close, but so far away. And he has no idea that I’m even here. Not that he’d care. He’s a rock star. He’s probably moved on.

When the song ends, all the lights in the stadium blink off. The crowd buzzes with restrained anticipation. Then, Everson’s voice cracks through the silence. “Have you ever been in love with someone who just wouldn’t believe you? You did everything in your power to show them how special they were to you, but they just refused to accept that you were telling the truth.”

The fans interrupt his monologue, howling in agreement.

He continues, “How far would you go to get that person to understand that they are the only person for you? How hard would you fight to get your hands on their heart?”

The audience erupts into cheers again.

Then, Everson growls, “I’d go to the ends of the Earth for you, Mackenzie.”

In that instant, the lights flash back on and my face appears on the big screen. My entire body flashes cold before I break out into a sweat. I can see Willow on the periphery of the screen, jumping and shrieking next to me.

The band starts playing the instrumental for
Dance the Pain Away
and

Everson’s voice carries throughout the stadium.

She’s got dark hair…She wears blue jeans…She’s a girl from New York City…In the city of dreams…In the city of Angels...She’s all I see when I close my eyes…She wears a halo…Although she’s hard and tough on the outside…She needs some saving…That’s what I see when I look in her eyes…I love to watch her dance the pain away.

The crowd sings along, holding up the illuminated faces of their smartphones, lighting up the stadium like tiny fireflies.

And the next thing I know, Everson is soaring through the air, suspended by cables attached to the high ceiling. My heart rate accelerates, my palms become even sweatier. Security quickly cordons off the aisle beside me as Everson makes his descent. The people around have gone absolutely nuts. The guards struggle to restrain them.

As Everson lands, my heart lurches into my constricted throat. I think I might pass out. I stand immobilized as he reaches out his hand to me. Willow gives me a hard push in the shoulder and I launch into action, grabbing onto his hand and letting him pull me into his strong chest as tears run down my face.

I look up into his eyes and he smiles down at me, flicking a tear off of my cheek. His voice drops to a whisper against my ear. “I’ve never lied to you, Babes. I would never hurt you. I swear I can prove that to you. You’re more than I ever dreamed of. More than I ever bargained for. I’ve been your groupie from day one. I love you.”

His tender confession turns my insides to slush. Even though there are over 30 000 screaming fans in this arena, the moment is intimate. It feels like it was made for just me and him.