The Complete Rockstar Series (35 page)

Knowing we’re in the same city has made it all that more difficult to keep those memories locked away. Even the few dates I went on with Mateo haven’t lessened my fixation. I told him I needed to focus on school and the team and didn’t have time to date. He seemed to accept my need to stay as friends, but it’s still awkward to be around him.

It’s not healthy, the way I let thoughts of Dax dictate my actions even though I haven’t spoken to him in months. Dax is completely wrong for me—dangerous, heartless—he’d leave me broken with no one to help pick up the pieces.

Mateo is perfect. We have the same interests, the same goals, and he isn’t a cold, heartless bastard without any regard for anyone but himself. Yet when I’m with Mateo in a romantic setting I feel restless, like my skin is too tight, squeezing around my chest and making it hard to breathe.

Now, I have to face my fears.

After speaking with my mum last night, I found out Ellie’s dad died a few months back and her mum moved away from Hackney. Now I have no choice but to surprise the guys at one of their shows so I can talk to her. I can’t find Ellie on campus, the school won’t tell me where she’s living, and I have no way of contacting Adam. I’m well aware that the best way to find her is to find him. And wherever Adam is, Dax will be as well.

Chickening out on having to deal with Dax back in the U.K. after that horrible scene at the fight club was a mistake that now looms over me. It’s somehow grown into a much larger problem than it would have been had we discussed it immediately. Instead, I chose to shut him out completely, refusing to even speak to him or acknowledge his presence.

It wasn’t fair really. He wasn’t my boyfriend and didn’t owe me a thing. My heart however, just couldn’t take any more pain watching him shag girl after girl. I needed to distance myself so I could move on.

Unfortunately, time and distance haven’t helped at all.

Resigned, I log onto the shabby second-hand laptop my parents scraped together to purchase as a going away present, and go about finding where their next gig will be.

Tomorrow night at the Viper Room.

I figure I can borrow a friend’s I.D. and be at that club after the show.

Stupid U.S. and their drinking age of twenty-one.

Hopefully, I can deal with Adam and not have to see Dax. That’s nothing but wishful thinking and denial, I know. I try not to remember my time with Dax, good or bad, but I can’t help it. In a few short months, we went from hardly knowing one another to good friends, to nothing. I’m not about to lose Ellie because I’m afraid of dealing with Dax.

My best mate has been through so much and I wasn’t able to be there for her. I’ll be damned if I’m not going to be there for Ellie now, even if it means diving straight into shark infested waters and having my heart ripped right from my chest.

I
nervously run
a hand through my hair for the millionth time since leaving my flat to take the bus to the bar down off of Santa Monica Boulevard. Why I care what I look like, I don’t know. I shouldn’t care. It’s not
healthy
to still care. This whole sodding ten-year fixation on Dax fucking Davies isn’t healthy yet here I am, obsessing again.

My fake I.D. doesn’t even make the bouncer at the Viper Room blink. He simply glances at it and hands it back. When I walk into the crowded club, the first thing that hits me is the overwhelming excitement buzzing through the crowd.
Sphere of Irony
is the headlining act tonight and it’s late, so the band is already on stage. I hadn’t realized they were so popular, having been avoiding looking them up for fear of feeding my Dax addiction.

The band got to L.A. in April and it’s only September. Despite the small time frame, it seems they’ve got quite the following already. Girls in skimpy dresses and how-can-you-possibly-walk heels are everywhere, crowding around the stage area, their lustful eyes fixed on the guys as they play. The memory of Willa setting her sights set on Dax hits me smack in the face.

I shudder in revulsion.

See Kate? It’s better you didn’t get involved with him.

There’s no way I would have been able to handle this—the girls, the clubs, the crowd—all of them wanting a piece of Dax. It’s too far out of my comfort zone. Hell, I’m just a footy-playing tomboy, not a fuck-me heel wearing groupie.

Unfortunately, old habits die hard. I can’t keep my eyes off of the man I used to know. I’m drawn to the stage like a moth to a flame. He looks good, really
really
good. Dax’s large hands effortlessly move across the strings of his guitar, playing a song I recognize from back home. His dark blonde hair is thick and tousled, no longer in the near-military short cut he used to wear.

Unchanged are his huge muscles, his intimidating presence, that flicker of danger in his eyes… he looks just as threatening as always. Only, I know that this isn’t the real Dax. The real Dax is kind, thoughtful, and fiercely protective of anyone he cares about—if he lets you in, which, chances are he won’t. For a moment, I wish I could see through that false front he puts up to keep people away.

How can I miss someone so much, yet he was never really mine?

Blessedly, the show ends and the band leaves the stage. Watching them brings back too many memories. Unfortunately, my own personal torture has just begun. I
have
to find Ellie. Without a doubt, I’ll willingly put my heart on the line for my best mate. I haven’t heard a word from her in four months and since my parents said her mum moved and changed her number, Adam is my only link. If that means coming face to face with Dax Davies, then so be it.

Elbowing my way through the crowd of tarted up groupies is easy with my football skills. I effortlessly slide up to the backstage area, which is protected by a large man, attempting to look intimidating. He doesn’t scare me. Not after dealing with Dax and his brother, Mr. Big and Creepy, at the fight club in Hackney.

“Pardon me, I’m a friend of the band from the U.K. Could you tell them I’m here?”

The man looks me up and down disinterestedly and scowls. He says nothing.

How rude. I’m not the most confident or beautiful girl, but you’re not keeping me from finding Ellie.

“Hello? I’m speaking to you. Can you get a message to one of the band? We went to school together and I’ve come to surprise them.”

He narrows his gaze, shooting me one of the most contemptuous looks I’ve ever seen. “Riiiiight. Friends. You think I was born yesterday, sweetcheeks? Hit the road.” The idiot shoves a thumb towards the exit.

Alrighty, now I’m good and aggro. I let out my inner bitch, the one that hardly gets a chance to see the light of day.

“Listen you uptight wanker, I’ve known Dax and Adam since primary school and I
am
going to speak with them!” I dig my finger into his stupid chest. “Let me in, it’s important!” I realize I’m making a scene, but I don’t care. I’m going to find my friend and this idiot isn’t going to stop me.

The bouncer puffs up his body and his face turns purple. Before he can kick me out or say something rude, someone shoves him aside.

“Kate?”

Dax’s dark eyes bore into mine from next to the increasingly hostile looking bouncer. They crinkle adorably in the corners when he breaks into an enormous grin.

Holy shit an actual reaction from the Iceman!

“Kate!”

Dax pulls me around the bouncer, Dax’s huge, muscular, six-foot plus frame towering over almost everyone around us, garnering admiring looks from both men and women alike. Dax snags my arm, yanking me into a massive hug and I swear, I hear him let out a sigh of relief once I’m in his arms. I can’t take the time to be shocked. I’m too happy to be surrounded by Dax. I inhale deeply, reveling in the fact that he smells exactly the same—spicy, delicious, and utterly masculine.

When he finally releases me from his tight embrace, Dax holds me at arm’s length, his fingers gripping my shoulders to keep me in place. He flicks his eyes up and down my figure, making me squirm from the intensity of his stare. Even though we’re surrounded by squealing groupies and a scowling bouncer, the moment is as intimate as if we were alone behind closed doors.

It seems as if he wants to say something, but before he does, his expression shuts down, back to stone-faced Dax. He stares, waiting for me to speak. No way do I want to have this reunion out here, so I try to get him to take us somewhere private. Pointing at the backstage door, my question comes out in a rush. “Can we go somewhere else?”

Dax glances around, finally taking note of the small crowd that has gathered. A blush pinks his cheeks as he lets me go, directing me to go backstage first. A blush! Cold, unemotional
Dax Davies,
the Iceman, blushed because of me! Boring, plain Kate Campbell. It’s both endearing and an enormous turn on to think I have that kind of power over him. That and the fact he completely ignored the squealing crowd of sluts have my feelings for Dax all jumbled up again.

“How have you been?” he asks, his eyes meeting mine for a fleeting moment before dropping to the floor again as he leads me backstage. There’s that blush again. He’s going to make it impossible for me to let him go, isn’t he? How can I possibly be expected to stay angry with someone that I’ve loved for as long as I can recall? Especially when his loud confidence and stony indifference has been replaced by this adorable, blushing man.

He leads me to a tiny room crammed full of electrical equipment. Dax shoves a few things off the battered old sofa and onto the floor, clearing a place for us to sit. I tremble, lowering myself to the cushion slowly. The air seems to have gotten scarce, my lungs having difficulty expanding in his proximity. There’s just enough left to force out a quick reply.

“I’ve been good. How about you, Dax?”

His downturned eyes flick up to mine, trapping me,
owning
me. Then again…he’s always owned me, heart and soul, hasn’t he? Even after that night at the fight club, I never really let go of Dax… of the dream of us being together someday.

Is someday now?

D
ax

H
ell
, Kate’s even more stunning than I remember. The sunny L.A. weather has done her well. Playing football has her tanned and toned from her head down to her feet, those killer legs of hers perfectly showcased by a criminally short skirt.

My heart has always been an empty shell, until Kate brought out the best in me. Being around her innocence, her radiance, then losing her had me thinking there was more to life than getting off and keeping everything inside.

Without her, I’m back to being a cold and heartless bastard. Any warmth I may have gained in the short time I knew her seeped out long ago. Today, having her right here in front me, the black hole in my chest feels as if it’s beginning to recede.

Kate never rang me after I stopped by her dormitory, not that I know if her crazy flatmate gave her my number. I had begun to think I’d never see her again. Unbelievably, I’ve got Kate sitting next to me, picking at a tiny hole in the hideous sofa backstage at the Viper Room, and I’m not sure what to say.

“You look gorgeous,” I blurt out, immediately wanting to punch myself for sounding so bloody desperate. One of the rules flicks through my head. One I have a hard time remembering when I’m around Kate.

Rule 2—Never let your emotions show.

Her wide green eyes find mine for the briefest of moments before they drop back down to the sofa.

Forcing myself to go against everything I was raised to believe, I stupidly put it out there. “I’m sorry, Kate. About—” I swallow thickly, having a hard time putting my feelings in words. “About what you saw. It…” Jesus, I sound like such a wanker. The urge to take what I want, to kiss her until she comes undone is nearly overpowering. Especially after a performance, when my libido is flying high. Having her here is pure torture.

Kate waves her hand dismissively. “It’s no big deal, Dax. Honestly.”

My heart, which just mere seconds ago was beginning to come to life after years of blackness, has crumbled and fallen in pieces down into my hollow insides at her effortless brush off.

“No big deal?” I snarl, my tone angrier than it should be. So she couldn’t care less that she saw my dad’s whore on her knees sucking me off? “Bullshit,” I challenge her. I know she cared. I saw it on her face. I fucking felt it in my shattered soul. You want to make me prove you cared?

Challenge accepted.

Kate’s face and neck are a brilliant shade of crimson—her emerald eyes narrow, flashing with fury. “Excuse me?”

Confident I’ve gotten it right and refusing to back down even if I’m wrong, I cross my arms over my chest. “I don’t believe you. It was a big deal to you. It was and most definitely still is a big deal to me.”

Her anger melts away at my very rare show of feelings. “Why do you care what I think? So you had your cock sucked by some slag. What difference does it make?” Kate’s voice is shaky, in fact, when I look down at her hands, now gripping her own knees, they’re shaking as well.

Feeling bold, or embarrassed, or maybe just tired of not being allowed to touch her or talk to her, I reach over and pull her into my arms, crushing my mouth against hers. Kate is stunned at first, unresponding as my tongue demands entrance. Then, as if a switch is flipped, she comes alive, groaning and opening up to me, allowing me access to her hot, wet mouth, letting me relive that perfect kiss we had so many months ago.

Intense fire burns through me, blazing, stoking the instinctive craving for my post-fight/post-gig reward. Our lips move in tandem, sloppy and desperate. She tastes exactly how I recall, the sweet memory burned on my brain forever. I’m about to shift her into my lap so I can feel that perfect body rubbing against my rock hard length when she breaks the kiss.

“Stop.”

“What? Why?” I continue to nip at her mouth.

“No Dax. Stop.”

Reluctantly, I back off, slumping on the sofa. She looks gorgeous, her lips swollen and wet, her cheeks red, and her eyes filled with unmistakable lust.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know if I can do this, Dax. I’m sorry. You’re not good for me.” She moves away, reaching her hands up to right her disheveled hair.

Fuck. She’s right, I’m not good for her, but I’m also a selfish bastard. Always have been.
I need to fix this so I can have her near me. Inhaling deep, for the first time in my life I dive in headfirst.

“I want to make a go of this. With you.” I slide off the sofa, kneeling down between her legs, not willing to give up so easily. I’m stubborn. I get what I want and I want her.

Kate’s eyes are wide and unblinking as she thinks it over. “You, you want to make a go of it… with me?”

“Yes.”

She lets out a choked laugh. I reach into her lap, holding her hands in mine. “I can’t believe this,” she says. “I’ve always wanted you, but you never saw me. Never expressed any interest in me.”

I pull our intertwined hands to my lips, kissing them lightly. “I was an idiot. I’m interested now. What do you say?”

Kate hesitates and her mouth twists up into a pained grimace. “I’m sorry Dax. I think it’s best we just stay friends.” She chokes up, struggling to keep the tears at bay.

This
. This is why I don’t let my emotions show. It’s a weakness that can be used to exploit you, let you down, make you feel shit you shouldn’t have to feel.

“Fine,” I reply stonily, the mask back in place.

“So,” Kate asks, her voice cracking. “Can you take me to see Adam? I really need to chat with him.”

“Adam?” So she didn’t actually come here to see me tonight. And if her flatmate did give her my number, she never rang either. Kate had no intention of ever seeing me again. This information takes her rejection to another level. She not only crushed my ego, she chucked it to the ground, spit on it, and then ground it to pieces under her boot.

“Follow me,” I growl, ducking around her and down the hall.

It takes several frustrating tries to find the room Adam is in. As I open the door, I start talking, “Hey, I’ve been looking for you…”
Whoops!
I see him rearranging clothing and a thoroughly fucked blonde behind him doing the same. The sight stops me dead in my tracks. I should have known. This is exactly why Kate doesn’t want to have anything to do with me.

Impatient, whatever Kate needs to say unable to wait any longer, she pushes past me irritably. “What’s going on Dax? Move your big arse.”

Oh Fuck. This is not going to be good. Kate’s about to get another dose of visual proof of why a bloke like me is the absolute last thing she needs.

K
ate

T
he phone
in my dormitory rings for the millionth time since I hightailed it out of the Viper Room last night.

Dax.

“Are you going to answer it?” My friend Abby is staring at me, an eyebrow arched expectantly, the end of her pen in her mouth.

“No.”

“He’s not going to stop calling until you do.” She puts down her notebook and joins me on my bed. “What happened?”

“So much,” I whisper. “It’s all the same as it was back home, but somehow it’s so different.”

“What do you mean? The band? Dax?”

“Everything.”

Visions of Adam with the blonde groupie last night are burned on the back of my eyeballs. The pictures in my head flash by so quickly I can hardly keep up—Adam and the blonde, Dax and Willa, the clusters of girls at the DK, the woman on her knees in the back room of the fight club…

“I’m sorry, Kate.” Abby puts a hand on my arm. “For whatever is making you so sad.”

“I just…” I hold in a sob. “My entire life has been about Dax Davies, getting him to notice me. Now that he has, I-I can’t do it.” Abby waits patiently for me to continue. “There will always be loads of girls, prettier girls than me, hanging around just waiting to give him a suck or a shag. Girls with more experience, or… I don’t know. More
everything
than me!”

The scene from last night replays in my head again—Adam smirking, a sexed-out blonde girl fixing her inflated cleavage.

“You don’t trust Dax?”

“He’s never given me a reason not to trust him because we’ve never been together, but I’ve been there, Abby. I’ve seen what he does… what they
all
do with the groupies. I can’t deal with it. I just can’t. I don’t have it in me to compete with them.”

“Kate, you don’t have to compete. If Dax didn’t want you, he wouldn’t pursue you.” The phone rings again. “And right now, if that’s who I think it is calling, my opinion is that he is definitely pursuing you.”

I wipe away a tear that has run down my cheek and quickly right myself on the bed. Plain Kate versus a veritable horde of gorgeous, posh girls.
Yeah right.

“Forget it. I can’t deal with Dax right now. Let’s study. There’s no way I’ll pass my test tomorrow if I don’t learn this.”

I
t’s
easy to avoid Dax after that night at the Viper Room. I’m so busy with school and traveling for football, I’m hardly ever at my flat. Not that he’s ever stopped by. There’s never a message on the whiteboard on my door and Lila’s never mentioned Dax coming to see me, although she would be the crazy type to erase any messages he might have left.

The holidays come and go, with Abby being kind enough to invite me to her family’s house for break. There isn’t enough money for an airline ticket back to the U.K. for Christmas. Mateo has left me alone, finally realizing we’ll only be friends. He’s a good bloke, just not the bloke I want.

“Bollocks!” The phone is ringing as I try to balance a takeaway cup of tea, my books, and my enormous footy bag while unlocking the door to my dorm. Somehow I manage to shove it open and get to the phone before it stops.

“Hello?”

“K-Kate?”

“Ellie?”

“Yes. It’s me.”

The door to the flat closes behind me. I drop my books and duffel to the floor. Right now, my only concern is my friend, a friend that has been through hell and back with no one there to support her. Tears flood my eyes, overflowing down my cheeks. My voice is already all choked up and my nose sniffling pathetically.

“Ellie,” I sob, “where have you been?”

“Can I come visit?”

“You don’t even have to ask.”

As I lay back on my bed to catch up with Ellie I think that maybe a little bit of my life can be complete again.

“
S
o tell me about UCLA
. Is it as much fun as we thought it would be?”

Ellie stares at me with wide eyes across the backseat of the cab we’re taking from LAX. Two weeks after she called and she just landed, looking extremely tired. Worse than tired, she looks like she hasn’t slept in weeks.

I don’t answer her question immediately. Do I tell her how inadequate I feel here? Surrounded by posh homes, impossible beauty, and people who spend more money on one car than there is in all of Hackney? Or do I lie and tell her it’s brilliant, that she could still transfer in next year?

“It’s… it’s keeping me busy.” I give her what I know is a weak answer. Thankfully, Ellie is too knackered to realize how pathetic it is.

“That’s brilliant, Kate. Really. I’m so happy for you.”

She wants to know about all the glam parties I’ve been to, which doesn’t take long since I’ve been to exactly zero. I tell her all about my coach and how great he is, and how he gets so much out of our team. Ellie laughs when I describe my wealthy flatmate’s very active social life.

I haven’t told her about Dax yet, afraid I may open up old wounds with regards to Adam. I’m not hiding it, but I don’t want to bring it up either. Calling him up and asking if I could meet up with them tonight was just about the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Ellie wants to see Adam, so I did it, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t horribly awkward.

“
D
avies
.”

“Dax. It’s Kate.”

“Oh.”

God this is awkward. “Um, so, I’m really sorry about ducking out of the club that night.”

“That was nearly five months ago, Kate. I think I’m over it.” His voice is harsh, cold. In other words, normal for Dax.

“Okay. Right. Well, I was hoping to meet up with you at one of your gigs.”

Silence.

“Dax?”

“You want to meet up at a gig? After vanishing and avoiding my calls you want to pop in and meet up?” Dax laughs sarcastically.

“Ellie is coming to visit. She wants to see Adam, but doesn’t want us to tell him she’s here.”

“Ellie? Here? Why the fuck can’t we tell him?”

“She said she might not be able to go through with seeing him. She didn’t want any expectations.”

“Right. So you’re ringing for Ellie. Just like you visited the Viper Room for Ellie. Do you ever think about ringing or visiting me without a reason? We were friends once, weren’t we?”

Crap.

“I’m sorry Dax. It’s not you—”

“Fuck it. It’s not me it’s you, right? Whatever. When will she be in town?”

T
he things
I do for my best friend. That was the most awkward conversation of my life.

“Here we are.” The cab pulls up in front of my dorm. We pile out of the car with her weekend bag.

“This is fab, Kate.” Ellie shades her eyes to look up at the tall dormitory building. “This whole place, it’s like…” she slowly spins in a circle, taking in the campus, the palm trees, the sunny weather, the students laughing and walking by, “it’s like a movie in real life!”

I chuckle as I unlock the outer door. “I thought the same thing at first, El. You get used to it. It’s not as posh as it seems, trust me.”

We cram into the elevator with a few other students. “It’s better than Hackney, that’s for sure,” she whispers.

“Yeah. It is.”

I can’t disagree. As insignificant as I feel in L.A., Hackney was bloody depressing. The misery and poverty pressed down heavily on your psyche, making you feel as if you carried the weight of the world around with you every single day. At least L.A.
looks
happy, even if it has a desperate, fake soul under that shiny surface.