FanGirl Squeal (RockStars of Romance Book 1) (43 page)

“Why can’t I? You walked away from me. Twice!” she yelled
angrily. “If you loved me so damn much, why’d you do that?”

“Baby,”

“Don’t,” she said weakly. “Don’t call me baby.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t handle it. You think I’m doing well without
you, Cash? I swear to God, my heart hurts and I’m out of double A batteries.
This is bullshit!”

Savannah leaned back on her elbows. Cash watched the rise
and fall of her breasts as she breathed deeply. He sat down beside her, trying
his best to get his dick and the Patron to stop talking to one another. He wasn’t
there for that. He just wanted to talk to her.

“Do you still love me?”

“I’m not talking about that!”

“Then why are you still sitting here. You could’ve left
already, Savannah.”

She opened her mouth and moaned. Cash’s erection jumped in
his pants. He shifted away so Savannah couldn’t see.

“I’m not going to sit here all night while you decide if you
do or do not still love me,” he said. “I know that you are the only person I
want to be with. I meant every word I’ve ever said to you, including I’m sorry.
You can sit here and drunk pout all you want, but you’ve never said leave me
alone or that you don’t want me to keep trying to win you back. Until I hear
those words, I’m not giving up. I hurt you and I’m sorry. But I love you too
much to give up so easily.”

Cash stood up. He started to walk away but Savannah grabbed
his arm. She pulled him down on the bed and straddled him.

“Of course I still love you. That shit’s never going away.”

Savannah lowered her head and kissed the spot near his
throat that she knew drive him insane. She raised her head and kissed him
squarely on the lips while fingering the buttons of his shirt. He knew what she
wanted and for a second, he felt like a complete dick for entertaining the idea
of giving her what she was craving.

But damn, he needed her.

“I don’t want to talk tonight, Cash,” Savannah whispered. “I
just want you. Can we talk in the morning? Please?”

Cash placed his hand in her hair and trailed his lips over
her bare shoulders. She moaned and wound her hips against him. His fingers
found the zipper of her dress and pulled it down. She stood up and wiggled out
of it and her nude colored thong. Cash traced the contours of her breasts with
his tongue while she unbuttoned his shirt and yanked it off. He drew her nipple
into his mouth and lowered his pants and boxers while he suckled, sending
trembles throughout her body.

“Oh baby,” Savanna moaned.

Cash laid Savannah down on the bed and balanced himself over
her. His erection teased her opening. She wrapped her legs around his waist and
pulled him down on top of her. He entered her slowly, savoring the sensation of
her body taking in every inch of his manhood. He buried his head into her neck,
inhaling the fresh summer breezy scent mixed with saltwater while moving slowly
inside if her. She moaned and raked her nails up and down his back, crying out
passionately as he thrust deeper, filling her with months of pent up desire.
Savannah climaxed first and repeatedly, coating him with slick heat until he
couldn’t hold back any longer. Fired raged through his body as he erupted with
Savannah whispering his name in his ear.

Breathing heavily, he pulled out of her and lay back on the
bed. Both of them were so quiet that he could hear his phone vibrating in the
pocket of his pants. Savannah leaned over and grabbed his phone.

“Donnie says go home. He’s staying on the boat with Sandra.
Who the hell is Sandra?”

“She owns the yacht.”

“Oh.”

Savannah cuddled up to him and placed her head on his chest.
She fingered the hairs right above his semi erect penis. Not too long later,
her breathing had changed and Cash knew she was asleep. He shifted around until
he was able to maneuver the top blanket from underneath them then covered them
both. He placed his arm behind his head and stared at the ceiling until
eventually, he dozed off as well.

“Savannah Banana! What you doin’ down there?”

I rolled my eyes. Troy has been more excited than a puppy
let out of his cage. I can’t keep up. This over the top
Coming to America
themed wedding is going to be the one thing that drives me over the edge. I
expected a fabulous wedding. I did not expect Groomzilla.

“I’m packing!” I called back to him. “Wanna help?”

“Girl,” he bounded down the steps. “Why are you packing?”

He walked into my office and looked at the stack of
flattened storage boxes that I had yet to fill with anything. Quickly. I
slammed my book shut and slid it under the couch cushion. Truth be told, I’ve
spent the last four hours reading my favorite Jackie Collins’ novel instead of
packing a damn thing. All I’ve been doing for a week is reading sappy romances and
listening to music.

Since turning down the job at Black Enterprise and
deactivating my website, I have no idea what I’m going to do about my
employment status. Last week, I received an email from a headhunter regarding a
job opening that she thinks I’d be perfect for. The Editor-in-Chief of Pink
Neon, the number one contemporary women’s magazine in the country specifically
requested me. Even though they are based out of Atlanta, they’re looking to
fill a couple of positions in Los Angeles. I don’t know if I’m going to the
interview though.

“Banana, you ain’t foolin’ no one with that ‘I’m packing’
nonsense. You’ve been hiding down here since our party. Now you’re talking
about packing. Where you moving to? You ain’t got a job. I’m going to need you
to turn down the drama, Miss Thang. Does this funk you’ve been in for two weeks
have anything to do with that hickey on your neck?”

I touched the fading telltale sign of my yacht encounter
with Cash. I don’t know what came over me. I wasn’t drunk enough to not know
what I was doing. And I certainly wasn’t drunk in the morning when we did it
again on some stranger’s yacht. I rolled my eyes and said the same thing to
Troy that I said to Cash that morning as I slipped my panties back on.

“Don’t read too much into that. It didn’t mean anything.”

“So why are you pretending to be down here doing something
constructive? Where you do think you’re moving to without a job?”

“I don’t know. It’s not like I can live here after the
wedding though. I’ve been you and Brandon’s third wheel for long enough. I need
to live alone. Plus, I have enough money saved to live off of for a year or
two. I’m straight, Troy.”

“Girl, stop. Brandon’s about to design and build our dream
house. You can have this place after I move. Don’t worry about the mortgage
either. I got you until you get back to work. What I want to talk about and the
only reason I came down here is to find out why, after swearing off Cash Myers
for good, you let him tap that?”

“It was a weak moment,” I said, only half telling the truth.

It was a weak moment and Cash had looked so fuckable that
night, but I knew why I really had sex with him that night. He does too. Both
of us will take that reason to our grave. I am so serious about that.

“Were you feelin’ some type of way about me and Brandon?”

“Hell no!” I lied again. “You know how happy I am for you.
As long as you don’t ask me to be your surrogate, the only type of way that I
feel is super happy.”

“Damn,” Troy snapped his fingers. “You mean you won’t carry
your niece for us?”

“Not even if you paid me.” I ran my hands over my hips and
waist. “I’m saving all this body for my husband and his seed.”

“And body you definitely have. I know that’s one of the
reasons Cash had you ass up on that old lady’s boat.”

For the first time in my life, stress and a broken heart
actually led to losing those annoying ten pounds I’ve been carrying. Running on
the beach is the best exercise and medicine since I don’t have my girls here to
get frat boy wasted with every night. Drinking alone is just not fun.

“I know you’re going to be mad when I say this,” Troy spoke
in that tone that has an uncanny resemblance to my father’s voice. “But I don’t
care. I’m worried about you, Banana. I understand why you don’t want to work at
Black Enterprise. You’re way too fabulous for that. But Pink Neon?
Editor-in-Chief of Digital Media? That’s your dream job.”

I shrugged. “It was. But after all this stuff with Cash, I’m
tired of media. This whole experience has put a bad taste in my mouth.”

“Bullshit!” Troy scoffed. “You are too good at what you do
to give up now, not when all you’re hard work is about to pay off big time.
They didn’t call you because of what went down with Cash. Despite it is more
like it. You got this, Banana. Take the job.”

I still don’t know. Accepting the position would definitely
get my parents off my back. I wouldn’t have to fight for freelance jobs to pay
by bills or feed my shopping addiction, that’s for sure. And since the
department I’d be running is here, I wouldn’t have to pull an Ashley and move
back home.

“I don’t know yet,” I answered honestly. “I was thinking
about writing a book and focusing on my family’s non-profits. Maybe I just need
a break from the industry.”

“Bye Felicia! You’ve only been writing under your own name
for five years. I promise you, I will die and come back to haunt the hell out
of you if you don’t take that job.”

Troy stood up and kissed the top of my head. “Take the job,
sweetie, so you don’t kick your own ass for not taking it later. I have a
meeting with the wedding planner. Wanna come?”

“Hell no, Groomzilla!” I laughed and checked the time on my
phone. “I can’t anyway. I promised Brittany a spa day. I have to pick her up in
an hour.”

“See,” Troy sighed and started walking away. “That’s why you
can’t get over his ass. You gon’ learn how to really sever ties with people one
day.”

I rolled my eyes at his back and went back to finishing the
chapter in my book. I tried to cut ties with Brittany after breaking up with
Cash, but I couldn’t. She wasn’t the reason we broke up. For some reason, she
enjoys being around me. When she texted me that she needed to get out of the
house, I suggested a spa day. She’s a good kind. She deserves it.

****

“What do you think about this color?”

Brittany held up a bottle of bright yellow nail polish for
my inspection. I immediately vetoed that color.

“It’s definitely…bright,” I giggled. “It’s too bright for
your hair. Go softer or green. You wear green well.”

“I’m trying to find something fierce like this new hair of
mine.” Brittany flipped her straightened fire engine red hair over her shoulder
and struck a pose.

The girl does look fierce with her Rihanna inspired
hairstyle. Cash is going to kill me, but there was nothing I could say to talk
his sister out of shaving one side of her head and getting a Brazilian blowout
on the other. She’s emerging from her shell and I’m actually proud of the
diva-in-training.

“Cash is going to hate my hair,” Brittany echoed my unspoken
sentiments as she sat in the pedicure chair beside me. “But I hate the fact
that Vic’s been staying at our house for a week so we’re even.”

Shocked, I adjusted myself in the chair and pretended that I
wasn’t. “Why is Victoria staying with you guys?”

“Because she’s a week past her due date and the two of them
are too paranoid to let her walk around without my brother following behind her
like the kid’s just gonna fall out unexpectedly. Ugh!” Brittany groaned. “Of
all the women he could have knocked up, Cash picks her!”

Again, shock was the only emotion that I could register. “I
thought you and Victoria were cool.”

“Hell no!” Brittany sneered. “I can’t stand that bitch. Never
have. She’s so fake. I put up with her for Cash, but I was so relieved when he
broke up with her…or however that went down.”

Brittany looked at me with a twinkle in her green eyes and a
smirk on her face. “You and Cash are getting back together, right? It’s been
four months.”

“O-M-G!” I laughed loudly and uncomfortably. “What do you
know about that?”

She raised her eyebrows as if I’d asked a dumb question. “Everything.
I mean, Cash doesn’t tell me all his relationship stuff, but he certainly doesn’t
know how to use his indoor voice when he’s talking on the phone to Donnie or
his other friends.”

“So you know that we actually broke up then?”

“Yeah, but…” Brittany shrugged. “You two are meant to be together.
Can’t you see it? It’s so obvious. He still has your pic as his screen on his
phone and,” she picked up my iPhone from the armrest and entered the pass code,
“his birthday is your password.”

I laughed and took my phone from her. I made a mental note
to change the password when she wasn’t around.

“Y’all are so in love,” she shook her head. “You’re just
being stubborn. And once that heifer has the kid, you won’t even have to deal
with her. Do you think that Victoria Williamson is the Mom of the Year type of
person? She’s gonna pop that kid out, take a few Instagram selfies, and then hire
a nanny to raise her. Or, she’s going to drop the kid off with Cash while she’s
filming that awful TV show. Then all you’ll have to deal with is the baby. You
don’t, like, hate babies, do you?”

“No, I don’t hate babies. But it’s not that simple,” I
argued defensively. “Cash and I…we have different lives. I thought I could
navigate through his world, but-”

“But what? Do you know how much I hate that Cash is famous?
I hate having my picture taken. I hate that strangers know where I live. I hate
when people ask me for concert tickets and ask to be introduced, or worse,
hooked up with Cash. But I deal with it because I love my brother. I don’t
complain about it because music is his life. I know that if he could be a
successful musician without the burden of fame, he’d choose it in a heartbeat.”