Star Struck (15 page)

I’m not ready to entirely give up on him.
I ponder how weird it is that I care more about getting together with Beckett than I did about Spencer breaking it off with me. I’ve never felt like this about anyone before, and that’s why I can’t just let it go.

A thought strikes me like the lighting of a match.
Dante.
He’s the only other person who knows the story, and I bet he’d be delighted to share it with me. I jump out of bed and scoop my jeans off the floor. After changing into them, I slip on a pair of shoes, run a brush through my tangled hair and then head out.

The minute I get outside
I have a nagging thought that this is a terrible mistake. If Beckett ever finds out I went in search of Dante he’ll kill me. Even so, I can’t make myself turn back around. This is something I have to do. I have to know what happened to Beckett to make him not trust anyone; to make him pull away from everyone who cares about him.

I have no idea where Dante hangs out, but I do know that the one time I saw him was at the coffee shop, so I head there first. If he’s not there, maybe someone can direct me to him. The scent of coffee and pastries waft under my nose when I enter
, and my stomach growls. I guess candy wasn’t a good enough dinner for me.

After scouring the shop and realizing that Dante isn’t here, I decide to order a sandwich.
After ordering, I lean over the counter toward the barista. He was the same guy working the last time I played. “Hey, remember the other night when those two guys got in a fight?”

“Dante and Beckett? How could I forget?” He asks with a slight chuckle. “Those two are always getting into it.”

I bite my lip as the nagging feeling returns. I know I should just forget this whole thing, but I’ve come too far now. “Yeah, that’s right. Any idea where Dante might be tonight?”

“I’m not his personal
secretary.” The guy jokes.

I laugh lightly, fighting back my irritation. “Right? Yeah, I get that. I just wondered if you knew where Dante normally hung out.”

“Why are you looking for Dante?” The voice behind me causes me to practically jump out of my skin.

Dread descends into my gut as I slowly pivot on my heels. “Beckett? How come you aren’t at rehearsal?”

His face is hard, his lips a thin line. “Not everyone was there, so we ended early.”

“Oh. I was just picking up dinner.”

“You don’t look sick.” Beckett speaks methodically, tapping his finger on his chin.

I feel sick now.

“Do you want to explain to me why you missed rehearsal and now you’re here looking for Dante?” he asks.

Nervously I move away from the line. My sandwich is put up on the pick-up counter, so I snatch it up. “Um…” I can’t come up with anything.

“Look, Star, I have rules for the members of my band. No drinking and no drugs. The other guys all know that. I never bothered to tell you because you didn’t strike me as the partying type.”

My body goes numb. “I’m sorry about the other night. That was a one-time thing, I promise.”

“Then why are you looking for Dante? Do you use drugs?”

“No.” I shake my head vehemently. “Why? Is Dante a drug dealer?”

“You tell me. You’re the one looking for him.”

“Not for drugs.” I run a hand through my hair, wishing I had listened to that nagging voice in my head.

Beckett raises an eyebrow. “Then why?”

“I just wanted to talk to him, that’s all.”

“About what, Star?"

I take a deep breath. At this point truth is my best option. “I wanted to find out what happened between the two of you, okay?”

Beckett moves closer to me, and lowers his voice. “If you want to know something, you need to come to me.”

Annoyed, I throw up my arms. “I have, but you refuse to tell me anything.”

“That’s because it’s none of your business,” he growls.

My heart stops, and all the fight withers inside of me. I drop my gaze. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” Without looking him in the eye, I clutch my sandwich in my hand and turn away. I think I’ve squeezed the bread so hard it’s probably inedible at this point. As I make my way to the door, Beckett stops me.

“Star,” he calls out.

My spirits lift
, and I whirl around.

“I’ve talked to other guys about last weekend, but I trust that you won’t let that happen again.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll abide by your rules from now on.” I start to walk away, but then stop. I won’t let him get the last word in this time. “Beckett?”

“Yeah?”

“I trust that you’ll stop butting into my life as well. I don’t need you show up every time I’m with another guy and try to rescue me, okay?”

“Fair enough.” His tone and expression give away nothing.

With a subtle nod, I scurry off so he won’t see how much this conversation is tearing me up inside.

20

Beckett

I feel bad about how harsh I was with Star at the coffee shop, but she shouldn’t have gone behind my back to look for Dante. I mean, what gives her the right to do that? Obviously if I didn’t want to tell her about Quinn, then there was a reason. Besides, didn’t I warn her about Dante? My blood boils thinking of what she might have found out. Who knows what he would have said about Quinn. That guy is a total loser. He’s manipulative and vindictive. Star has no idea what kind of guy he is.

For the two weeks following the awkward encounter, Star ignores me. Not that it matters. The entire band is giving me the cold shoulder. I’m guessing they’re upset at how hard I came down on them about the party at Ryker’s. Maybe I did go a little overboard, but they all know my rules. And they all know why I have them. It’s a matter of trust and respect, really.

Now Star is gone. She and Lola went home for Thanksgiving week. I’m hoping that when she returns she’ll have a better attitude and we can get back on track. The December festival is only weeks away, and we need to be on our game. This festival means a lot to me and the last thing I need is for it to be ruined because of all this drama. In fact, this is exactly what I was worried about when Ryker first mentioned bringing a girl into our band. If only I hadn’t given in. If only the girl hadn’t been Star.

I
pick up my guitar and rest it in my lap. Leaning my back against the couch cushions, I prop my bare feet up on the coffee table. I strum the guitar and wait for inspiration to hit me. My goal is to write at least one more song for the festival, and I need to get going on it.

“Hey.” Tate enters the room wearing ripped jeans and a wrinkled t-shirt. He sits down on the recliner, takes in my appearance and
turns his nose up in disgust. “Dude, put on some clothes.”

I glance down at my body. “It’s not like I’m naked.”

“You’re only wearing boxers, man.” Tate averts his gaze.

“Jealous because I look so much better than you do in your boxers?” I joke.

“You wish,” he banters back. “So, are you coming to Mom and Dad’s with me today?”

I groan. “I don’t think so.”

“Seriously? It’s Thanksgiving.”

“So?”

“So, you can’t stay home and mope around all day.”

“I’m not moping around.” I rest my guitar on the ground, propping it against the side of the couch.

“Dude, close your legs!” Tate covers his eyes with his hand.

“Jealous again, huh?”
Chuckling, I adjust myself.

“Just cover it up.”
Tate splays his fingers and peeks out of one eye. Then he sighs and drops his hand. “You’ve been moping around ever since you and Star had that fight.”

“I have not.”

Shaking his head, Tate says, “I don’t know why you can’t just admit that you like her.”

“I did that, and look where it got me.”

“Yeah, you told her you liked her but that you couldn’t be with her because of all your excessive baggage, but then you didn’t tell her what it was.”

“I told her some of it.”

“But not all.”

“That doesn’t give her the right to go behind my back to figure it out.”

“Yeah, I don’t know why she just didn’t ask you, since you were such an open guy,” Tate says sarcastically.

“It’s personal, and it’s none of her business.” I bristle.

Tate leans over, resting his elbows on his knees. “Beckett, I’m only saying this because I’m your brother and I care about you, so don’t take it the wrong way, okay?”

Nervous, I shift uncomfortably on the couch. Rarely does my brother speak to me like th
is. I spread out my arms, urging him on. “Continue.”

“You need to get over yourself and grow up.”

“You’re one to talk,” I mutter under my breath.

“Look, I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes, but I’ve learned from them. I only want the same for you.” Tate pauses. “You walk around with this major chip on your shoulder and you shut everyone out. It’s time to let someone in.”

I have an eerie sense of déjà vu. “You sound like Star.”

“Smart girl.” Tate grins. “I know you’re scared
, Beckett. She’s the first girl that’s gotten under your skin like this, and you’re afraid to let your walls down. But trust me, it’ll be worth it if you do.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“You know why, Tate.” I reach for my guitar again. “Besides, I need to focus on my music. You of all people know what happens when you let something get in the way of your dream.”

“That was totally different, and you know it.”

“W
as it? You, Dad, even Quinn all learned the hard way. I’m not planning to do that.” Settling the guitar in my lap, I begin to play, signaling the end of the conversation.

Tate gets up and walks toward me. “Okay, I’ll leave you alone about Star on one condition.”

I stop playing and look up at him. “What?”

“Come with me to Thanksgiving dinner.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Mom and Dad really want to see you.”

“Sure they do,” I say disbelieving.

“Beckett, you need to stop being so hard on them.”

“Why?” I ask through gritted teeth. “They don’t support me at all.”

“But its Thanksgiving
, and they want to see you. C’mon. Do it for me at least. I don’t want to go there and hear them bitch about you not showing up the whole time.”

I laugh bitterly. “Fine, but only because you give me a place to live
, and I sort of need to stay on your good side.”

“Hey, I’ll take it.”
Tate shrugs. “Now go get dressed. We leave in fifteen.”

“What’s wrong with what I’ve got on?” I smirk. “My female fans would pay money to see me in this.”

Tate shakes his head in disgust. “Just get dressed.”

“If you insist.” I stand up, laughing. As I head into my room, I wiggle my butt at Tate. “C’mon, you have to admit, it is nice, huh?”

Tate puts his head in his hands and groans, but not before I see a small smile pass over his lips. After entering my room, I change into a pair of jeans and a white wife-beater tank. When I go back in the family room, Tate gives me a funny look.

“That’s what you’re wearing?”

“Would you rather me change back into my boxers?”

“Okay, let’s go.”

I wish I had a camera ready to capture the surprised look on Mom’s face when she opens the door to find me standing on the porch.

“Beckett, you came?”

“Yeah, he made me.” I point to Tate, who gives me a warning look.

Mom
presses her lips together. “Whatever the reason, I’m glad you’re here.” She envelops me in a hug, her familiar floral scent washing over me. I feel nostalgic for a minute, memories of mom embracing me when I was little boy filling my mind. But when she pulls back, I catch her eyes skimming over my attire in a disapproving way. I’m reminded that I’m not a little boy anymore, and my mom and I are no longer close. While Mom greets Tate, I step inside the cozy house I grew up in. I remember when I was a kid Dad would show me pictures of the lavish hotels he stayed in when he was in the band. Afterward, I felt so disappointed looking around our small twelve hundred square foot house, realizing everything my dad had given up. My dad had a life everyone dreams of, and he gave it all up to live in a small house and raise a family. Who does that?

“Beckett?” Dad steps into the family room, his eyebrows raised in surprise. “Glad you could make it, son.”

I nod, grateful when Tate and Mom join us.

“Can I get you boys something to drink?”

“Vodka on the rocks,” I say just to stir things up.

Mom frowns. “Since when did you start drinking?”