Accidental Rock Star (11 page)

No, thank you.
The bright lobby chandelier drew her to the front. A taxi sat empty
outside the glass.

She picked up her pace
and shot outside.

The cabbie stood at the
corner of the building, puffing on a cigarette. She waved toward
the back seat. He nodded, and she climbed in. The cab smelled like
wet shoes and smoke.

The driver took another
draw and then dropped his cigarette to the sidewalk, crushing it
under the toe of his boot as he moseyed back to the car. He got in
the front and clicked on the meter. Four dollars lit the screen.
“Didn’t think I’d catch another fare. Not out here.” He eyed the
clock on the dash: 7:22 p.m. “Not for another few hours
anyway.”

Gross. “Can you take me
to 624 Elkville Road in Leithville?” Aria was tense but relieved to
be out of there.

“Sure.” The cabbie put
the car in gear and crawled out to the road.

Aria shivered as she
texted Tyler.
Who do you think I am? Took cab home
. She
wished she could think of something cleverer, like kiss-off lyrics,
but she was too put out to be creative. She turned her phone off so
she wouldn’t be tempted to read his response.

The driver tapped the
meter. “Credit card machine’s broke. You’ll have to pay cash.
Heater’s broke, too.” He rambled on about the rest of his woes on
the hour-long drive home.

She clutched her phone
in her palm until they pulled up in front of her house but didn’t
turn it on.

The driver clicked the
meter off. “Now for the damage. $75.50.”

Aria didn’t bother to
check her purse. She had to go in to get money from her parents to
cover the fare and the tip. This would take a ton of chores to
cover. What a bust.

She did not want to
talk about her evening.

They did.

Tyler placed his feet
next to Baylee’s on the coffee table and kicked. “It’s my turn to
pick the movie.”

She kicked back and
snagged a handful of his popcorn. “No, it’s not.”

Aunt Joellen came into
the room, wearing an unusually serious expression. She held up a
strip of condoms. “I found these on the bathroom counter.”

Baylee stuffed the
popcorn in her mouth and snuck a gaze at him. She smirked.

“They’re Baylee’s,”
Tyler lied.

Baylee choked and
kicked him in the leg. Tyler kicked back.

Aunt Joellen arched her
eyebrows.

“Okay. What? They’re
mine.” Tyler tilted his head back on the rough, square couch
cushion and waited. “And?”

Aunt Joellen tossed
them into the wastebasket under the end table.

She just threw away
my condoms
. Tyler sat up. His feet thudded to the floor. “Dude.
No way.”

Baylee snickered.

“You don’t need things
like that around here. The girls in this town are nice girls. You
have to respect them.”

Baylee covered her
mouth on another mocking sound.

Nice girls. Well, I
know that now. Where was this talk yesterday? Before Aria freaked
out over nothing.
Still, Aunt Joellen didn’t need to teach
Baylee the wrong thing. “Aunt Joellen, everyone should use
condoms.” He pointed at Baylee. “Every time. Don’t let some dude
give you any B.S. about it. Or use the female condom.”

Baylee’s face flushed
red. She and her mom said together, “Tyler!”

“Got it. I’m just
saying.”

Baylee turned to him
and mouthed, “Shut up. You’re going to scar me.”

Aunt Joellen took her
seat on the other side of Baylee. “Now, Tyler, if you and Aria are
thinking about getting that serious… I should probably talk to her
mother. Make sure she’s talking to Aria. Like I’m talking to
you.”

“You probably should,
Mom,” Baylee said, sounding self-righteous and moral. Her shoulders
shook, and he knew she was containing laughter.

Tyler gave her the
stink eye and blew out a breath. “Not necessary. Date didn’t go
that great. We won’t be going out anytime soon.” Not until he could
figure out how to fix it.

Baylee sniggered and
reached for another handful of his popcorn.

He held the bowl out of
her reach. “Braces,” he reminded her.

She snarled.

Aunt Joellen pointed to
her teeth. “He’s right, Baylee.” She gave him a concerned look.
“Well, if something changes, you can talk to me about it.”

No. Never. Not if she
were the freaking gatekeeper for all the condoms in North America.
“Thanks, Aunt Joellen.”

“Okay. Enough of this.
Time for the movie.” Aunt Joellen looked down at the stack of
Blu-ray discs on the coffee table that he’d had delivered. All
action films, along with a state-of-the-art player. She shook her
head and went to her worn, scratched stack of romance movies. “How
about a drama?” She waved one with a gray cover featuring a
drooping white flower.

Baylee leaned into his
arm and whispered, “Spoiler alert: the girl gets pregnant and dies
in the end.”

“She went all nice girl
on our date.” Tyler adjusted the screen on his laptop, ready for a
conversation with his bros. “It might take her a while to calm
down.”

Man, he was starving.
He’d signed up for a ‘Steak of the Month Club’ online because he
was sick to death of chicken and tuna. Garrett was gnawing on a
sandwich that looked good. He bet Marissa had made it. “What is
that? Prime Rib?”

“Aye.”

Fucker.

“Man, you sure can pick
’em,” Garrett said around a bite. “First Gina diving off the deep
end of reality … now …”

“They’re not the same
thing at all.” Tyler crossed one hand over the other, waving him
off. Aria was … she was … He rubbed his hand over his face.

Max frowned and swiped
a workout towel over his neck. He’d checked in from the gym. “No
news on Gina?”

“Security says she’s
sent like a hundred texts to my old phone. Including a shot of her
ass with ‘Sax’ tattooed on it.” Whatever. They hadn’t caught her
yet. He didn’t want to talk about the insane shit in L.A. The guys
needed to understand the new crazy shit in Texas. He dug his hand
into his short hair. “What I really need to know is how to win Aria
back.”

The three of them
looked stumped.

Garrett’s expression
turned speculative. “Does she have a car?”

Max shook his head.
“He’s not getting her a car.”

Caz’s look said,
‘that’s a dumb shit idea,’ but in a superior English way. “Right.
How personal is transit? What does she like?”

“Country music.”

They all shuddered.

“Country music with
cello.”

That made them
wince.

Caz shrugged. “Settled.
Get her a cello.”

They all started
arguing at once and none of them were understandable on the
speakers.

Max hit some key that
made the speakers screech, and they all shut up. “Man. No. What
does she want that’s not an object?”

Good question. No idea.
“Huh.”

“Find that out and give
it to her,” Max said.

Garrett finished off
his sandwich. “How bad was this date? What did you do?”

“Nothing.”

Caz narrowed his eyes.
“What do you mean
nothing
?”

Suspicious fucker.

“He did
something
.” Garrett lifted a cookie and waved it front of
the camera. He eyed it with appreciation. “Get her some cookies.”
He tilted his head. “And the cello
and
a car.”

“She has a car.”

Garrett broke the
cookie in half and shoved it in his mouth. He ran his thumb over
the remaining half of the cookie. “A good one?”

“No.”

“Where did you take her
on this date?” Max asked.

“Restaurant. Nice one.
Tablecloths and shit. Bottle of wine. We sat down, and then she
went to the ladies’ and texted me she was leaving.”

“The old loo ruse.”
Garrett shook his head in sympathy. “Oh, fickle heart of the fair
sex,” he moaned and stared hard at the remaining piece of cookie in
his hand. Then he ate it. “These are damn good. I’ll ask Marissa to
send you some of her next batch.”

“What exactly did you
say to your date?” Max kept focus. “What exact restaurant did you
take her to?”

Tyler shrugged one
shoulder. “I don’t know. Nicest one within two hours of here.
Crystal chandeliers, rooms and crap.”

“Rooms?” Caz’s crisp
voice sounded accusing. “He took her to a hotel. No wonder they had
a row.”

Heat hit his cheeks.
“It’s not like I checked us in and ordered room service. My dates
never walk out.”

Caz made a superior
clicking sound. “Guess this answers the age-old question for you:
does your fame matter…?”

“Fuck you, Caz.”

Caz grinned.

Max pointed. “I’ve seen
chicks walk out on him.”

“As a
game.
Aria
meant this. She wasn’t waiting around in the lobby with a room key
in her hand or in my car with nothing on. What do I do?”

“Don’t back down,” Caz
said. “Arrange a bigger hotel, penthouse with a private waiter and
bar service.”

“Man, no,” Max
said.

Garrett looked up from
his cookie. “Max went with flowers when he had to apologize to
Hannah. Right, Max? The scent of apology? The fragrant hope of
forgiveness? Blossoms. The age-old symbol of beauty that says, ‘I
will adore you until you wither and fade like these flowers.’”

Max grunted.

Caz carried on with his
own suggestion. “And have an orchestra playing when she gets to the
hotel room. With a cello. But a small orchestra, so they can leave
discreetly.”

“Don’t ditch the hotel?
You’re sure?”

Caz nodded. “You were
right to follow your instincts. You lacked scope, impact—”

Max cut Caz off
mid-sentence. “No. He wasn’t.”

Caz took on an
insistent look. “Had his plan been better, he’d have gotten a
better result.”

Tyler had his doubts.
“Maybe something else.”

“What drinks did you
serve?” Caz asked.

“It’s not like he set
up tequila shots on the coffee table.” Garrett turned toward his
frame. “You didn’t, did you?”

“No. Wine. A bottle. A
light rosé.

Caz shut his eyes.
“Absolutely not.”

Max leaned away from
the screen and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Go with champagne next
time. Settled.” Caz stared at Garrett. “There’s more to discuss
here.” He narrowed his famous teal eyes. “Well, then?”

Tyler knew he was
asking about the
proposal
comment Garrett had made last time
they talked. Nothing else would garner such an expression. Well,
maybe a tea shortage.

Garrett got a superior
look. “Some plans are meant to be private. Sharing them dilutes
their specialness.” He toasted them with a glass. “Some
relationships are going better than others.” He put the glass down
and gave a nod. “Much better.”

“Dude. Speaking of…”
Tyler glanced at the closed door and lowered his voice. “Aunt
Joellen threw out my condoms. The ones packed in the bag you sent.
Now, when I get Aria to go out with me again, I got no stash.”

Caz shrugged. “Tell
Aria to pick them up for you.”

“Tell?” Garrett shook
his head. “Women should be persuaded, not told.” He turned to
Tyler. “Persuade her of the merits of picking them up for you.
Being a woman of the millennia, it’s her privilege—nay, her
right—to provide the contraception.”

Max sat back up. “Go to
the pharmacy. Take out a twenty. Buy more.”

“Small town. It’ll get
out.” Tyler lowered his voice. “Aunt Joellen will hear about
it.”

Max pointed at the
screen. “Buy them anyway, dickwad.”

Straight shooter, that
Max. “You kiss Hannah with that mouth?”

“Don’t fucking talk
about Hannah,” Max said.

“Drive to a bigger,
more anonymous town,” Garrett said.

Caz shook his head.
“He’ll get recognized. As I said, tell her to pick them up.
Say…”

Marissa popped up
onscreen, standing beside Garrett.

Caz immediately shut
up.

Marissa leaned down and
smacked a kiss on Garrett’s cheek, her arms around his neck. She
faced the camera. “Hey, guys. What are we talking about?”

Garrett snaked his arm
around her waist and pulled her on his lap, making her smile
bigger. “The foibles of youth. Love versus morality versus desire.
An age-old tale of a boy and the inevitable rejection of his
transition to manhood by his mother figure.”

“Ah.”

“A coming-of-age tale…
no, wait…” Garrett rubbed his hand on Marissa’s arm. “Caz was
saying something else. Some advice. What was it, Caz?”

Caz’s eyes flashed. “My
speakers are breaking up.” His words came out clearly on Tyler’s
end. “Not sure I caught that last bit correctly. Marissa, are you
seeing Ashley today?”

“Yeah.” Marissa slapped
at Garrett’s wandering hand. “She’s meeting me here.” She gestured
behind her. “At Garrett’s, to hang.”

Caz was stuck in London
checking on crap with his parents while his girlfriend Ashley
remained behind in L.A. He’d sulked about it more than once. “Tell
her to call me for face time. And don’t listen to these idiots. And
don’t let her talk to them either.”

“What were you guys
really talking about?” Marissa narrowed her green eyes. “What are
you up to? Sax? Don’t make me call Baylee.”

“Nothing. Geez, I’m the
victim here.”

“Victim? Your new
single only hit number two on the billboard charts or
something?”

Tyler hadn’t thought
about rankings in weeks. It was nice not having the label shove it
down his throat every morning. Up two. Down one. Release dates.
Timing. Marketing. Crap. He just wanted the music—and here, he got
that.

“Who else is going to
be at your house?” Caz tapped on the camera. His thumbprint grew
big on the screen each time he pressed. “Garrett? You’re not
inviting any losers from your new movie, are you?”