“Thank you, again.” There were so many things I wanted to say. It never occurred to me that the rumors about going to a bar were true, wanting to spill your secrets, receive advice or validation... yet here I was. Touching the wooden tabletop while Hostin offered me kindness. Madden was sure to be here soon too, he wouldn’t appreciate the way I sought someone else’s comfort.
“Eh, it was nothing. What has you all twisted?”
“A man,” I muttered, feeling like a movie cliché. Bar. Rock star. Spilling the beans. Drama. It fit the criteria, yet, I couldn’t stop. “He is too busy to be around me and his manager hates me, actively keeping us apart.”
“New relationship?” he asked with a raised dusted brow. I rolled my eyes, knowing many secure relationships wouldn’t have this issue, but it was fresh. And hell, it wasn’t even an established relationship. It was a three-day fuckfest where I didn’t know where I stood.
“Not a relationship,” I admitted, solemnly. My voice sounded pathetic and that alone made me guzzle down quite a bit of my beer. “Don’t know what the fuck we are.”
It wasn’t untrue, but it wasn’t true either. We’d always be family, the fucking nerve of that tidbit.
“Then drop him. You shouldn’t have to come to my dingy shack to escape some wanker who isn’t giving you what you need.”
“It’s complicated,” I defended softly. He didn’t know the stakes.
He nodded, cleaning the tabletop as he spoke next. His wrist flicked with every wipe but he kept his eyes locked on me. Like the father that I never had, he showed me compassion.
“I was in love with this lady once. She ticked all my boxes. Yet, she never could give me what I needed.” He lifted my drink, wiping underneath before setting it back down. “Now, I’m alone, manning this bar.”
“Was it worth giving her up?”
“Yeah, I think so. I discovered a lot about me.” The door opened then. I didn’t look, already knowing who it’d be.
“Maybe you’ll find a hot young thing to set you free,” I offered, thinking of Marion giving this man a run for his money. With a smirk, he peered over my shoulder without saying anything in response.
“Aye, welcome!” Hostin yelled, his voice friendly. Maybe it wasn’t Madden? When I turned, seeing my angered nephew, I let out a solemn breath. Or maybe Hostin didn’t listen to metalcore.
Who knew?
“Andy,” Madden rasped, staring at the close proximity of me and Hostin. He still leaned across the bar, close to me. Not too close to be weird or too intimate, but enough that Madden’s eyes seemed like coiled snakes, ready to strike and kill us both.
“This the bloke?” Hostin asked, his voice unamused, losing all the kindness he previously offered.
“Yep, that’s the one,” I confirmed, watching as Madden’s face morphed. Openness wasn’t something I struggled with. Not getting what I wanted, on the other hand...
Chapter Forty-Two
A Part of Me – Neck Deep & Laura Whiteside
Madden
I don’t need to go to prison.
I don’t need to go to prison.
I repeated the mantra in my head as my body blazed with hatred. Anger was too soft of an emotion to what walking in here felt like. Royce walked me to the door, giving me all of the space I needed.
He knew about Andy and me, yet he said nothing. I respected the hell out of him for that. Seeing Andy talking so closely to some lumberjack man hit all the proprietorial buttons in me.
“Andy.” My tone was dark, deeply frustrated, and teetering on unhinged. I’d never taken a life, but seeing as she didn’t turn to me and stayed looking at the himbo across from her had me in a blind rage.
“Is that the bloke?”
“Yep, that’s the one.”
Her words stoked a fire inside me, alienating me from my own sanity as I marched toward her. Why did he get the talkative side? The one that wasn’t fucking crazy over space?
It’d only been five days into the tour and Andy acted like a possessive woman. It didn’t bother me that she cared so much, it troubled me that she was willing to lash out for attention.
Luckily, I already knew my set by heart, because she had me leaving practice to fuck her into some type of satisfaction.
Couldn’t she see how fucking insane I felt over her? How maddening it was to be apart? I wanted to fuck her morning, noon, and night. Wake up between her thighs and fall asleep buried there too. Even if I couldn’t bring myself to allow her to explore me just yet.
“If you’re going to cause problems, it’d be best if ya left.”
“No problems,” I muttered, feeling wound tighter than a fishing line when a fish hooked itself. Everything in me felt like an electric live wire. When my palm met her shoulder, I felt zapped. Her eyes bore into mine, unhappy and bitter. I was sure my own expression matched pretty well.
“Just drinking this,” she remarked, holding up the drink before gulping down a few ounces. The bartender cringed, reminding me of Al when I got too heavy with the liquor.
“I’ll leave you two,” the bartender said, then leaned into Andy’s space. I had to suck in a deep breath so I didn’t do any stupid shit at their lack of personal space. “If he fucks up, call for me. I’m not scared to beat the shit out of a kid.”
“Not a fucking kid,” I mumbled, meeting his own expression with an unhinged one of my own, knowing it would sound a lot clearer if vehemence didn’t leak with the words.
He turned away, headed toward a hallway next to the bar.
“So, why don’t you go back to your practice?” Andy offered. If I didn’t know her so well, I’d think she sounded bored. But this was Andy, someone I not only grew up with but someone who knew me as much as I knew her. She was slowly shutting down, turning her feelings off in avoidance.
“Can’t. This beautiful woman I can’t get out of my fucking mind is driving me mad.”
“Well, she feels crazy and stupid.”
My body tingled with the urge to pull her to my chest, hold her there, make her feel safe. “Not crazy or stupid,” I reassured her in the only way I could. She might have acted a little out there for little ol’ Andy, but she was as normal as it got. I lifted her chin toward me, forcing our gazes together. “I’m sorry Candy is being a cunt.”
“Hate her name,” she hissed lowly, like a slap to my face. “Like you hate hearing Brandon, Candy is the equivalent.”
The sound of his name leaving her pouty lips did me in. I dropped her chin, grabbing her throat. Effectively, I laid her across the bar stools next to her, hovering over her body.
“Fine. No mention of her name. But fuck, Andy, if you wanted to rile me up, doing it in public isn’t the best place. Paps know I’m here. They know it’s my biggest tour, and if they see you...”
“What?” she complained, her eyes wetting with tears as she batted my hand away from her throat. “Too embarrassed to be seen with me? Might hurt your little bad boy—”
I shut her up with my mouth, sucking out the toxic ways she viewed herself, kissing away her worry and pushing my tongue down her throat like I needed to be inside her. She groaned and pushed at me, her body pressing in almost like she wanted us to separate because we were fucking lava. Deadly, painful, and endless.