The Rockstar I’ve Loved for So Long (10 page)

Oh my God. 

She drew away quickly, her face paling when it was indeed Dylan Charbonneau standing in front of her, dressed in a hoodie and jeans, dark shades hiding his famous blue eyes.

Classic rock star disguise syndrome,
was her next thought and she almost smiled because of it. Rock stars were so delusional when it came to disguises. Did they really think something like this could fool people for long?

It had been a month since she had last seen him, and with him covered head to toe and her in a skimpy bikini, Bree couldn’t help feeling like a slut.

Looking at him was like having all her barely-healed wounds slashed open for the second time. If only it was possible to wish him away, she would have done so. 

She didn’t need the past to haunt her again. She didn’t need this. She didn’t need him. 

“Hi.” Dylan felt it was his role to speak first. Bree looked stunning, so much that it frightened him to realize it had been such a long time since he last fully appreciated how beautiful she was. Her long silky dark hair with its natural becoming curls, the way her long dark lashes framed her chocolate brown eyes, and how her face was like sunshine when her rosebud lips curved in a smile.

But she was not smiling now.

She was frowning at him unhappily, like he was a blight on her day. 

He couldn’t blame her for that.

“Dylan, this is Evan.” She glanced at the other guy apologetically. “Evan, this is Dylan.”

Did she really think he wouldn’t be able to see right through her? She was deliberately omitting titles, further distancing them from each other.

Looking at the younger and
shorter
guy, he said emphatically, “Her ex.”

Evan smirked, looking at him straight in the eye as he repeated meaningfully, “
Ex
.”

The bastard would get his ass kicked soon if he looked at Dylan like that one more time. 

Wanting to defuse the situation even though she was sure it had more to do with male egos needing a pissing contest to prove their manliness than her, Bree asked Evan, “I think I’ll need that drink after all.” And to stall him from protesting, she swiftly kissed his cheek.

Evan grinned, his eyes darting in triumph towards Dylan before looking back at Bree. “Sure, babe. Be back in a flash.”

Bree carefully avoided Dylan’s gaze after that, saying in a polite voice, “It was really nice meeting you, but—”

“Let’s dance,” he said grimly, not giving Bree a chance to explain. 

His body was hard and tense as he pulled her against him. She briefly considered struggling but knew that just wouldn’t be the best way to make herself known in her future school. And so she remained stiff in his arms instead.

“I miss you.”

“Stop it,” she said wearily. “It’s over—”

“I’m not letting it be over until I show you I’ve changed,” he shot back, his arms tightening around hers. “I mean it this time, Bree. I’ve changed. I’ve…” He sucked his breath. “I’m ready to believe in
us
.”

Her eyes remained dry even as her heart cried out at the unexpected words. “I don’t need to hear those things anymore,” she whispered.

“If you don’t want to hear it, then let me
show
it to you.” As he turned them around, wanting to put more distance between them and the rest of the crowd, the gentle sea breeze blew his hood back, revealing his face.

“IT’S DYLAN OF MINUIT ROUGE!”

Both of them stiffened at the scream. A second later, a crowd of rock-star-crazy freshmen girls surged towards them. The old Dylan would have loved this, would have called for security to take care of her while he took care of his fans. After all, he was the rock star who did not belong to one girl and he had always wanted it that way.

But it didn’t happen like that.

He pressed her face hard against his chest, keeping her securely in the circle of his arms. “Give us room,” he said with cool politeness, the icy tone effective in penetrating the hysteria around them.

“She’s not a part of this. I don’t want her hurt.”

“Is she your girlfriend?” a fan shrieked.

“I want – need – her to be.” He spoke without hesitation, shocking Bree.

They continued to move, Bree blindly following his lead because in situations like this, it was the only way to survive. The moment she parted ways from Dylan, it would be a bloodbath – for her.

After what seemed like an eternity, she felt him ushering her inside a car and by the time she was able to open her eyes, the car was moving, Dylan was seated next to her and Bob, Staffan’s man, was greeting her from the front passenger seat with a cheerful smile.

“Bob?” she asked in a dazed voice. What was happening?

“The boss was worried about something like this happening. And so it did happen,” the beefy scary-looking man answered. “The boss is always right.”

Dylan rolled his eyes.

She almost giggled.

But when they looked at each other, her amusement died and she quickly looked away. Her fingers curled into a fist.
We’ve practiced this before, Bree. We can do this. We can keep ourselves from crying—

“Bree…”

She shook her head jerkily. No. They could not talk now, not when she hadn’t yet fully mastered herself, wasn’t yet completely sure she would not cry if she looked at him again.

Some immeasurable time later, she felt the car slowing down and heard doors opening. Bree still had her head down, gazing at her clenched fingers. She just couldn’t be sure she would not start crying if she looked at his face.

But Dylan didn’t speak a word as he reached for her hand and guided her out.

She followed him silently, not caring where they went. She just cared about
not
crying.

Dylan said hoarsely, “You need to open your eyes sometime.”

Bree did, slowly, and when she realized where they were, well, that was when she had to kill herself in an effort to hold back the tears.

She fell to her knees, her body shaking. Pain had her gasping her words out. “Why are you doing this to me?” Why would he bring Bree to her old school – to the very room where they first met?

He dropped to his knees in front of her. “Please. I’m sorry. You don’t have to stop crying.”

Dylan’s words in the past hammered back into her brain.

“Is this how it’s going to be all the time? Things don’t go your way and you use your tears against me?”

Another gasp was torn out of her even as Bree shook her head more wildly. No, no, she was never going to cry again! Never! Not when—

Unable to bear it anymore, Dylan hauled her into his arms. “Bree, please, please forgive me for being such a goddamn asshole.” She thrashed and struggled in his embrace, but he only hugged her more tightly.

Tears struck his eyes and he let them fall, unabashed. “Bree, please…” He brought her hand to his face, letting her feel the wetness on his skin.

He was…crying?

She slowly pulled away and this time he let her, not looking away when her gaze searched his. “W…why?” she choked out.

“Because I was a bastard to keep you from crying, to say those words, and most of all because I was a bastard for being stupid enough to keep pushing away the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

Another lone tear formed in the corner of his eye, but he did not blink it away. If she did not forgive him now, if she thought he was gay just for crying – then so be it. 

“Remember the time we first met? I didn’t really believe you couldn’t see a thing back then. But babe, that time…I know now…you were the one who was seeing clearly. Because that early, you believed in what we could be together and I was the blind one then.”

He watched her lips tremble, and he knew she was still too hurt and afraid to let herself cry.

“But I see you now, babe. I see you clearly, and I believe in us.” He gripped her hand and pressed the most heartfelt kiss to her palm. “Please, babe, please…” He broke off, the strength of his emotions making Dylan unable to speak.

“Believe in us once more, babe.”

Chapter Ten

“You didn’t answer your phone again, babe.” Dylan Charbonneau’s voice came out in a sexy, arrogant, and cool drawl, a clear sign that he was pissed off and jealous like hell. 

It made her smile as she listened to his words.
Classic rock star syndrome,
she thought, this time dealing with rock stars who hated not getting what they wanted. 

“I had classes,” she answered in a soothing voice. “Of course I couldn’t answer my phone—”

“Tell them you’re my girlfriend and they’ll let you,” he countered silkily.

She rolled her eyes. “Riiiiight…”

He bit back a frustrated sigh. How did it turn out like this? A rock star shamelessly dropping hints hoping that an eighteen-year-old girl would give him the honor of calling her his girlfriend?

“Are we meeting tonight?”

“Unfortunately no,” she said with genuine sadness. “I’ve got a meeting in the library. I’m on my way there, actually.”

“What if I drop by and—”

“No!”

He paused.

She said guiltily, “Sorry, but…I think I like it this way better for now. It’s hard if people here start seeing us together all the time…”

It was hard because she did not believe in him – did not believe in them – fully just yet,
Dylan thought with a heavy feeling in his heart. 

“Dylan?” 

Her hesitant voice made him want to smash something. He hated that she was no longer the confident girl she once was because of his past mistakes. “I understand, babe. I just miss you. Call me as soon as you get home?”

“Yes,” she said in relief.

“Love you, babe.”

“Love you, too.”

Only ten minutes had passed but she was still thinking about their last exchange, wondering if she had been unfair to Dylan. She couldn’t keep hedging – that was what he had done in the past and it had hurt her unbearably. Was it fair to do the same thing to him? 

She had to decide whether she was ready to trust him again and if she decided on yes, then she couldn’t do it in half-measures.

Impulsively turning around, Bree headed in the other direction, away from the library and towards the parking lot. She drove as fast as she could, reaching the hotel where
Minuit Rouge
was set to play in half the usual time. 

A modeling agency was having its anniversary party, with the band chosen to headline its program. Ariadne was just coming out of the dressing room as Bree reached the backstage area. “Bree,” she exclaimed in surprised pleasure.

“Hey.” They exchanged warm hugs. Ariadne was wearing a black belly-baring cropped top and silver denim shorts, making Bree feel gauche and medieval in her shirt and cargo pants. It just made her question Dylan’s taste, wondering what in the world he ever saw in her. 

“Looking for Dylan?” Ariadne asked slyly.

“I’m not trying to catch him cheating, okay? I trust him now.”

Dylan’s cousin looked at her innocently. “I believe you.” 

She groaned. “I swear!”

With a laugh, Ariadne curled her arm around Bree’s. “Come on, follow me and see for yourself what a naughty boy Dylan is.”

The other girl stiffened at her words, but Ariadne ignored it, dragging her towards the stage. Standing at the edge, she moved the curtains a little to reveal the stage, where the rest of the band was interacting with dozens of scantily clad models.

Bree’s eyes widened. Dylan was still his charming self, but he was clearly using Elijah and Andre as a buffer to keep a safe distance between him and the girls. When that proved no longer effective, he had security come in to form a barrier around him. It was comical, the way he was extremely careful not to let even a single finger touch him. 

Hands off,
was the message Dylan Charbonneau’s every move was broadcasting, and it was ironic since he had once been the rock star that the whole world considered common property.

Hands off,
she thought with a lump in her throat, because Dylan Charbonneau wanted the whole world to know he belonged to her – Bree Wyle.

He wanted them to know that even though she had been unconsciously trying to hide the fact that she belonged to him.

“H-how long’s he been like this?” she asked, swallowing.

“Since he got back into your good graces.”

She laughed. It felt like it was the first time she could really laugh, could really smile and believe the world was okay. “He…truly loves me, doesn’t he?” Bree whispered the words with awe, unable to believe it still.

Ariadne answered quietly, feelingly, “More than we’ll probably ever know.”

She shook her head, dazed. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t be too grateful, love. Don’t forget what an asshole he had been all these years, too.”

Bree’s eyes twinkled. “Well, now that you’ve mentioned it…” An idea came to her. “Watch me wreck his world instead.”

Ariadne became nervous at the look on Bree’s face. “Bree—” But the younger girl had already charged into the stage. From the sidelines, she watched Dylan stiffen in shock at the sight of Bree.

Ariadne gasped at what followed after.
Everyone
gasped with her, too, not a soul in the house believing that a woman had the temerity to slap Dylan – and he wasn’t doing anything about it.

SHIT!

This was hell. This was the worst scenario for Bree to see him in, and when he saw the pain in her gaze, he was frozen with terror at what she would think. If she left him because of this—

Slap.

His face snapped to the side at the strength of her blow. Dylan was stunned and then desperate when she cried out, “You lied to me again! I will never forgive you for this. Never!”

The devastation on Dylan’s face almost made her stop with the playacting, but she managed to keep herself from succumbing. 

Shock had paralyzed his bones, but he recovered the moment he realized Bree was running away again – and maybe this time she would
never
ever come back.

“Let me explain, dammit, Bree – stop, dammit!” He ran after her, nearly throwing women out of his way in an effort to catch up to Bree. He was
not
going to fucking lose her over this! He was not going to lose her in any way, not while he was still fucking living.