I hated that look.
I didn’t want to look cool or famous or whatever.
I didn’t want to look like anything.
But I understood.
After I made sure Zoe was in a car and heading home, I talked with Toby in the hall of the arena. He loved my story and thanked me for being on the road. He told me to stay close and be ready for anything else.
I then went looking for Nash.
For the dumbest reason ever.
To thank him for meeting Zoe.
The backstage room had a piece of paper on it.
I opened the door and saw it was mostly dark.
Before I could say hello I heard a noise.
A groan.
I froze.
My mind told me to get out of there.
But I didn’t.
I stepped forward into the room.
I shut the door as quiet as I could behind me.
I turned the corner and saw the soft purple glow of a light.
And there was Nash, standing with his jeans down to his knees, a woman in front of him on her knees.
Sucking him off.
I covered my mouth with my right hand but didn’t look away. I mean, I couldn’t look away. It wasn’t my business to see but…
Ohmygod.
Nash had a handful of the woman’s hair, his fist tight, guiding her back and forth on his dick. Her lips sliding along his hard shaft in a way that made my lips suddenly start tingling. And they weren’t the only lips tingling.
I slowly inched myself back toward the door, knowing I needed to leave.
Nash turned his head and looked right at me.
My eyes went wide.
He grinned.
Then he winked.
He put his other hand to the woman’s shoulder and pushed her away.
I heard the sound of her mouth pop off him.
His fingers went to her chin. “Look up at me, babe. Tell me you love my cock.”
“I love your cock, Nash.”
“Ask to have more of it.”
“Please let me have more, Nash.”
“Beg me, babe,” he said.
“Please… I can’t live without it…”
Nash ran his thumb across the woman’s bottom lip. I studied every feature of her body, feeling jealous. My eyes then moved to Nash’s dick. I had never… I mean…
My body ached.
My toes curled in my socks and the back of my legs felt shaky.
I was so turned on.
There was nothing else to say. No denying it.
Nash put both of his hands to the woman’s hair and helped himself to her mouth again. Thrusting with purpose, grunting as he did so. Making her groan as he tested her limits.
That’s when I finally had the nerve to get the fuck out of there.
Before things really went too far.
I couldn’t let it go.
I was driving myself crazy.
Pacing the hotel room.
Chewing on my nails.
A drink did nothing to calm me down.
I was screwed. So screwed.
My hands shaking as much as the rest of my body.
So much so that I took out my notebook and started to write. It was probably the steamiest thing I had ever written in my life. My books didn’t necessarily have that kind of stuff in them, but the images of Nash… and his… his…
“Ohmygod,” I whispered as I wrote faster.
It was the ultimate rock star thing.
Him with a Line Whore.
Making me jealous and wet at the same time. And the fact that I felt both of those emotions at the same time was because of Nash.
But the vision… her lips… his dick…
I groaned as my left leg bounced.
When I finished writing, I stood back up and felt no better.
I bit my bottom lip and knew I had two choices.
It was going to be me or someone else.
That was it.
I could take care of things on my own or…
My mind spun with a crazy as shit idea as I grabbed for my phone. I didn’t want it to be me. On my own. I needed the real thing.
Ohgod… the real thing?
I found Owen’s number and couldn’t believe what I was about to do.
A booty call.
I texted Owen something flirty just to break the ice. He replied. And then I made my intentions clear. I was a little tipsy and I needed it. No strings attached. No questions asked.
Just please come fuck me so I could forget about Nash.
And then I’d have something to mess with Nash about.
This wasn’t me.
At all.
I reread the quick conversation with Owen and my cheeks burned red hot. I hadn’t seen him in a couple months. We both knew what it was. There was never any talk of it becoming serious. Plus, what I had just done to him, he had done to me many times. So it was fine. It was cool.
No. It wasn’t cool.
I went back to pacing the hotel room, waiting for Owen to show up.
And when he actually did, it really hit me what I had done and what I was going to do.
I opened the hotel door and he stood there with that half sly grin on his face that made him look cute. His neat brown hair and neat brown eyes. Smelling like whatever cologne he doused himself in to smell nice. Wearing a clean button-down shirt. The complete and total opposite of Nash.
Even though I was going to use Owen to think of Nash.
So fucking wrong, Liv… but a total rock star move…
“Brought us something,” he said as he showed me a bottle of vodka.
I opened my mouth to thank him. I was then going to grab his shirt and pull him into the room. And get things moving. No talking. Just fucking.
But from nowhere came a hand, grabbing the bottle out of Owen’s hand.
And there was Nash, towering over Owen, wearing the same clothes from the concert. My eyes looked down, picturing what I had seen.
“Thanks, man,” Nash said. “Love that liquor stores will deliver for us.”
“Deliver?” Owen asked. “Wait… aren’t you…”
“Shit, babe, I don’t have pockets,” Nash said. “Got any cash for a tip?”
“Yeah,” I said.
I was robotic as I reached into my back pocket and took out a ten and gave it to Owen.
“Olivia, what’s happening?” Owen asked.
Nash pushed Owen out of the way. “This is the part where you fuck off, delivery boy. Thanks for the booze.”
Nash stepped into the room and I stepped back.
He shut the door and locked it.
I heard Owen’s voice out in the hallway.
“Was that Dillon?” Nash asked.
“No. Owen.”
“Who’s Owen?”
“The guy I fuck when I want,” I said.
Nash tossed the bottle of vodka to the floor and grabbed my hips.
“That changes now.”
I pushed away from him. “No. Not going to happen…”
What is wrong with you, Liv? Fuck.
“So you just want to watch? Is that it? I can make a call right now and arrange it. What do you prefer, babe? Blonde? Brunette? Black hair? Rainbow colored hair? I can get anything I want.”
“You should probably go, Nash,” I said.
Nash didn’t listen. “What’s this?”
I turned my head and saw him reaching for my notebook.
My jaw dropped.
He was about to read everything I wrote about him.
11