The crowd cheers.
I look at Skylar. “I’m out.”
He’s already hurt me enough. I’d be a masochist to stay here and let him get another sucker punch in.
I bend down so I can grab my purse off the floor.
“She bullies the girl she’s secretly jealous of because she knows deep down that girl is smarter, sexier, and more authentic than she’ll ever be.”
I freeze.
“However, there’s a little thing called karma.” He shoots Sabrina an icy glare. “And she’s an even bigger bitch than you.”
Taking a step back, he gives a rope suspended above his head a sharp tug.
Less than a second later, chunky liquid pours all over Sabrina.
It smells so bad I have to plug my nose.
“Shit,” Skylar mutters as Sabrina lets out a shriek.
“Sooey,” Storm yells into his mic before he does a “ba-dum-tss” rimshot on the drums.
“What sound do pigs make?” Phoenix roars as he holds the mic out to the crowd.
On cue, everyone in the arena starts oinking.
As a blubbering, pig-slop-covered Sabrina flees the stage, Phoenix’s eyes find mine.
Giving me a smug smirk, he drops the mic.
CHAPTER 42
PHOENIX
An irate Skylar paces the floor in her red stilettos. Ever since the pig-slop incident three days ago, she’s been on edge, and tonight she declared an emergency family meeting in Chandler’s suite so we can talk about etiquette.
“Where’s the black sheep?” Memphis mutters as he plops down on the couch beside me.
Storm’s lips twitch, and Skylar stops pacing. “Since George is the only one who can stay out of trouble, I gave him permission to take Lennon out to dinner.” She makes a face like she smells something rancid. “And the World War II exhibit downtown.”
“Things must be getting serious between them.” Memphis elbows me in the ribs. “That sounds like a date to me.”
I reach for the bowl of chips Skylar set on the table. “Not a good one.”
While I was under no illusions that pouring pig slop on Sabrina would make Lennon drop to her knees and blow me, I was hoping it would make shit better between us.
Granted, she hasn’t glared her usual hate fire at me in three days…but most of her free time is still being spent with him.
George the jackass.
Clearing her throat, Skylar reaches inside her giant purse and pulls out a stack of papers.
“First things first. Let’s review dos and don’ts.” Her gaze rests on Storm. “We don’t leave a woman handcuffed to our bed and then forget where our room is.”
“Hey.” Storm takes a swig of his beer. “I knew where the room was. I just couldn’t find the hotel.”
Sighing, Skylar flips to the next page of her stack. “We do not use our personal credit card to send fifty-thousand dildos to a renowned music critic’s home because he didn’t give your last album a good review. Especially with a note that reads: ‘Go fuck yourself. Love, Sharp Objects.’”
The three of us exchange fist bumps.
Pinching the bridge of her nose, her stare returns to Storm. “We do not offer to pee in a fan’s mouth when they mention being thirsty at a meet and greet.”
Storm takes his phone out of his pocket. “She complained about the lack of refreshments. I simply gave her options.”
She focuses on me again. “We do not pour pig slop…” Her nose scrunches. “On second thought, I’m okay with that one.” She steeples her fingers. “Anyway, now that we know better, we have to do better. I want everyone to be on their best behavior for tonight’s show. Got it?”
She’s packing up her things when Memphis grunts, “What about me?”
She sharpens her gaze. “You are beyond my help.” She produces a condom from her giant purse and throws it at his chest. “If you need instructions on how to use one of these…Google is your friend.”
With that, she flips her hair over her shoulder and meanders out.
“Seems like Storm’s the real troublemaker here.” Reaching over, Memphis swats the back of his head. “Get your shit together, brother.”
Storm pays him no mind. He’s too focused on his phone.
Or rather he was, because Memphis snatches it.
“Damn.” He lets out a whistle. “Who’s the hottie with a body you’re talking to?”
Storm looks sheepish. “Don’t know.”
That gets my attention. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”
Memphis laughs as he scrolls through his phone. “It appears our boy is on a hookup app.”
Now I’m the one who’s laughing. “You do realize you’re a rock star who’s about to have a stadium full of chicks tonight, right?”
“Yeah, but he pees on our fans, remember?” Memphis rubs his jaw. “On second thought, you’re in luck. This one’s into that.”
Storm seizes his phone back. “We’re not talking about this.”
“Oh, no,” I say. “We’re talking about this.”
The fucker’s still giving me shit about upsetting Lennon and bringing Sabrina here, but he’s still my best friend.
Storm scrubs a hand down his face. “Don’t you ever get tired of having women throw themselves at you constantly just because you’re famous?”
Memphis and I exchange a puzzled glance, because what the fuck?
“No,” we say in unison.
He rises off the couch. “Never mind.”
I gesture for him to sit back down. “Pull the stick out of your ass. We’re gonna help you.”
Memphis takes a seat next to him. “So, it sounds like you’re tired of the fangirls being your willing hostages and you want a challenge?”
“Something like that,” Storm murmurs.
I raise a brow. “You mean like a girlfriend?”
Horror spreads over his face. “Who the fuck said anything about a girlfriend? I just want a chick who doesn’t make shit so easy for me all the time.”
Once again, Memphis and I exchange another confused look.
“Sounds like a girlfriend to me.”
“I meant when it comes to sex, you fucking idiots.”
I mull this over for a bit. I never had a problem getting laid pre- stardom or post, but it was Josh who got off on making all kinds of chicks demean and humiliate themselves on a regular basis for his enjoyment. Maybe taking a page out of his book will help.
“You can always do what Josh did.”
“Give them drugs?” Storm questions with a frown.
“Treat them like shit?” Memphis adds.
“I meant making every girl think they were special to him so he could get them to do anything he wanted.”
And I mean anything. There were no lines that dude wouldn’t cross…or fuck.
“That’s because he was a manipulative asshole,” Memphis bites out.
One who’s no longer here.
A surge of irritation runs through my veins, and I stand. “In case you fuckers forgot, he’s dead.”
“Phoenix,” Memphis grunts when I amble to the door.