LOW: A Rockstar Romance (30 page)

Chapter Twenty-Six

Madeline

Two auditions. A reading and an honest to god screen test. I was so confident when I walked in, but now...

"Nothing?"

My agent sounded almost as desperate as I felt. "Pilot season is coming, Madeline. You'll have plenty of work then. In the meantime, maybe just enjoy the time off?"

"Yeah, I could use it!" I smiled brightly. "Thanks, Jen."

I stared at the phone. Rejected. Both times. And now there was nothing on the horizon for me. Jen couldn't have been clearer, even if she was trying to be nice about it.

So, that was that. I felt flat, dull. Hollowed out. The space where the hope usually lived, curled into a tight, protective ball in my chest, was echoingly empty. I was about to set the phone down, take a step forward and try to plan my next move, when it buzzed in my hand.

"
How are you?
" the text read.

Before I could fully process it, a smile tugged at the edge of my face.
Rane.

I hadn't meant to come down so hard on him at Harlow's. Then again, he hadn't seemed like it bothered him at all, which definitely bothered me all the more. Fucking him had been a mistake, but one I could chalk up to infatuation. What I hadn't counted on was how much I enjoyed hanging out with him. And that was the scary part. I didn't want to want him, and I definitely didn't want to
like
him.

"
Working
," I typed back.

"
Then why are you texting me back?"
came the reply.

"Asshole," I muttered. Instead, I typed, "
Running an errand between appointments
."

"
What kind of errand?"

I furrowed my brow at my phone. "
The caffeine kind
," I tapped back.

"
Good. I could use a cup. Where are you?
"

What the hell did he think he was doing? "
You want to watch me get coffee?
"

"
No, Princess. I want us to get coffee together
.
Talk about stuff
."

I was biting my lip. My traitorous body was already responding to the idea of seeing him again. A lick of flame curled around the base of my spine, igniting a slow heat in my belly.
Pull yourself together,
I told myself. But for some reason, my usual mantra wasn't working. "
Do you really think that's a good idea?
" I typed back. I honestly wanted to know the answer.

The little dots that indicated he was typing seemed to last forever. I checked my phone, set it down... then picked it back up again and stuffed it in my purse and began walking the few blocks over to the coffee shop.

Then I stopped and pulled it out of my bag again.

"
Probably not. But let's do it anyway,
" he had replied.

I let out a short, barking laugh and leaned against the baking exterior of a boutique. "
Do you know Java City on Cedar?
" I typed. This was a mistake. I knew it was a mistake. But for some reason, making this mistake seemed absolutely vital to my well-being.

"
Is that near Callow's music shop?
"

"
I think so
."

"
Then I'm right around the fucking corner. See you in a minute, Princess
."

I stared down at my phone like it had betrayed me. Like accepting Rane's invitation was its fault and not mine.

Then I dug around in my bag for compact and checked my eye makeup. Still in place. I checked my hair and frowned at its stubborn insistence on falling in my face. I slipped on some lip gloss, then immediately regretted my decision when an errant breeze sent a stray lock to stick to my lips.

"Oh my God, I'm a disgrace," I muttered.

But Rane likes you that way
, a small voice in the back of my head piped up.

I knew this was true. Rane liked my flaws. He seemed to relish the moments when I let myself fall apart in front of him. The more unhinged I was, the more he seemed to want me.

It was strangely exhilarating.

And I knew it was even truer the second I spied him, already standing inside the cool, air-conditioned confines of Java City, his big hands tucked into his pockets, thumbs threaded in the belt loops of his worn-in jeans. When he saw me walk in, his whole posture changed. He seems to grow taller, his face lighting up, a mischievous quirk taking hold of his lips and turning them into the most kissable things in the world.

I went to him, then stopped short about three feet away, unsure of how I should greet him. A hug? A handshake? A blow job?

"Good to see you," he said, reaching out and putting his warm hand on the small of my back and guiding the both of us to the end of the line. "You look beautiful."

I smiled a private smile—
because I was a mess
—and then consciously wiped it from my face. "What brings you to this neighborhood?" I asked.

"Recording," he said. "How about you?"

"I'm picky about my coffee shops," I told him. It was partially the truth.

He turned and looked down at me with a questioning eyebrow. "Yeah?"

"Long story," I said dismissively.

"Tell me." He gestured towards the winding line in front of us. "We've got time."

I swallowed. "You really want to know?"

"I really want to know everything about you." He said it so casually, I could almost pretend it was a mistake.

I closed my eyes, trying to figure out a way to put into words the story I hadn't told anyone, not even my therapists. In the face of my breakdown, that day had always seemed like such an insubstantial thing... and yet it mattered more to me than any of the... things... I did afterward.

"There was a Java City really close to the studio," I began. "I was there, the morning before…" I gestured futilely at my head, and he made a little mmming noise of understanding. "Before… I did… That." I took a deep breath. "Anyway, there were these people there, mother and daughter. The little girl was about eight years old." I smiled, remembering. "She was staring at me. I was still in my makeup from shooting that day, my hair was still all done up in my Princess do. And this little girl, all freckles and braces and glasses, was staring at me the way only a kid can stare at something. It was cute, if a little nerve-wracking."

"I get that," Rane said. I could tell he was really listening. And suddenly the story actually wanted to come out.

"So, here I am being stared at by this little girl, when her mother finally notices. Then she starts staring, too. But this isn't celebrity worship. This woman is looking at me like I owe her something. She opened her mouth, and I'll never forget her voice—it was this aggressive, East Coast kind of bark. 'Are you Parker Paisley?' she demanded."

Rane made a small sound, halfway between a grunt and a growl.

"I had to laugh," I said. "I mean, now, if someone were to ask me that, I would just straight up say no. No, I'm not Parker Paisley. I'm Madeline Cole, who is a real fucking person. But back then, maybe I didn't have things figured so much. So what I said instead was, 'I
play
her, yes.'"

I swallowed, keeping my eyes tightly closed. I didn't want to see Rane's face right now. Anger, pity, sadness, confusion, I couldn't handle any of it right now. If I saw any emotion at all, I would clam up and stop talking forever. "Now her daughter, when she heard this, made the cutest little gasp. I lived for that back then. The kids' reactions. They didn't expect much of me other than to just keep playing their favorite princess. But the parents…"

Rane pressed slightly on the small of my back, pulling me incrementally closer to him. I didn't know if it was a conscious gesture or not. But it had the odd effect of making me feel safer as I recounted the morning that started the worst day of my life.

"So, the woman started egging her daughter on. Her daughter was clearly star struck and kind of terrified, but her mother kept pushing her. So, I crouched down, and I don't know, I must've complimented her hair, told her she was a beautiful princess, too, the usual lines, when her mother started in again. 'I hope you understand that you're a role model,' she told me. 'Of course,' I told her. 'I am always aware.' But then she got right in my face..."

Rane growled and cursed softly under his breath. I took a shuddering breath and let the words tumble out in one long exhale. "And she started yelling, with her finger right up under my nose, '
You have a responsibility
!
To us. The parents. Our little girls can't see you getting your nose pierced, or sleeping around, or getting trashed at nightclubs. You have a responsibility to your fans! You owe us!'"

"Can I take your order?"

My eyes flew open, and for a moment, the tears that had gathered made everything swim together.

Somehow, we had made our way to the front of the line without me realizing.

I looked up at Rane. He had let me talk, all the while gently leading us to the front, and I had just closed my eyes and let him.

"I'll pay," he said. His voice was tight.

"You don't have to," I said mechanically.

"What are friends for?" he rumbled. He chucked a few bills down without looking and was silent the whole while we collected our drinks. My heart raced, and I fought the urge to run out the door.

Just as I gave up hope that he was going to say anything at all, he cleared his throat. "That was some bullshit, Maddie."

I started. "What?"

He pressed his lips together, choosing his words. I sat down in one of the cafe chairs, and he set our drinks down on the wobbly table between us. He sat down and tapped his long, guitar-playing fingers on the table three times before nodding to himself.

"The way I figure it," he said, "these people, they boxed you in. And the second you started to push against the box, they got mad at you and threw you away." I watched his expression darken, his eyebrows knit together. "And you're alone with yourself for the first time in your life, living outside of that box. You don't want to go back in it, but it's a safe place. You knew it and people liked you when you were in it. But you're out of it now, out in the big scary world outside of the box you know, and now you gotta figure out who the hell you are without it."

His gray eyes snapped back up and met mine. I felt completely naked and exposed.

I exhaled sharply. "Yeah," was all I could say.

He was right.

"You're allowed to break out of your box, Madeline," he said softly. "It's not going to hurt you, or break you, or cause irreparable damage. You needed to step out of it and see what it's like to really live."

"I am living," I protested weakly.

"You are," he nodded. "It scares the fuck out of you, but you are. Finally."

Then he leaned back in his wrought iron chair and sipped his coffee. Like we were just chatting about the weather. Like he hadn't just blown my mind.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Rane

I leaned back and smiled at her. She gave me a wide, honest grin and a slight blush as my reward, and I was punched in the gut one more time with the realization that I
liked
her. Sitting here comfortably in a coffee shop, listening to her stories and hearing her memories....it was all going to my head. Maybe some of Jax's cockiness was rubbing off on me because I started to convince myself again that, yeah, I could be
friends
with Maddie.

Except...

Once more she was dressed in this little spaghetti strap number that showed off the smattering of freckles across her shoulders and down to her breasts. I wanted to follow them like a trail of breadcrumbs, down and down and...

Fuck.

"Thank you," she said on a long exhale. "Today was pretty shitty until you texted."

"Yeah?" I was presuming way too much, giving her advice like that. But her story got me all riled. I wanted to retroactively punch that woman in the face, and I couldn't, so the next best thing was to try to move beyond it. Let it go.
Fuck it,
right? That's what I'd normally tell her. But the second I started pontificating like that, I wanted to cram my own hand down my throat. Who the fuck did I think I was? I had never lived her life. I couldn't live her life. I was physically incapable of caring as much as she did.

But she listened to me. She fucking
listened.

I didn't want to betray how good that made me feel. "What was shitty about it?"

She blew an adorable puff of air out of the corner of her lips. "I don't know if it's any one thing in particular. Everything just generally sucks."

I smiled at her and pointed at the wall. "You want me to grab that painting for you?"

She laughed, and I swear, it was the best sound in the world. "I'll try to refrain. I wouldn't want you thinking I would just kick in any old painting. It has to be special."

"I'm honored."

"You should be." She started gathering her things, and I was suddenly filled with panic about her leaving. I didn't want her to go...ever. "Hey, I need to go grab a few strings from Callow's, want to tag along?"

She opened and closed her mouth. Then she stuck her tongue firmly in her cheek. "Sure," she grinned. "I was thinking of taking up the accordion in my spare time."

"Great. I'll grab the bagpipes. We can duet on the next Ruthless album."

"Work is work!" she laughed. I held open the door for her, once more loving how she let me guide her. It was a struggle not to let my hand slide further down her back to cup her ripe little ass, but I refrained.

"Speaking of," I said as we stepped out into the bright sunshine. "The video is done."

She stumbled a little and I steadied her. "Yeah?" she asked. Her eyes were unnaturally bright.

"Yup."

She exhaled. "Is it good?"

"Fantastic," I told her. "It'll be out in the world by tomorrow afternoon, Mads." I wanted to touch her and had to settle for brushing her arm. "Everyone is going to see how incredible you are."

The smile that lit up her face was like the sun shining just for me. I knew right then that I would do anything to make her smile like that. Over and over again.  As much as I could. For as long as she'd let me.

She was still smiling as I held open the door of the store. Callow's Music Shoppe had somehow managed to resist the tide of gentrification that had otherwise swept this block clean of any character. It was a dark, subterranean winding thing that I fell in love with the instant I found it.

"This place is creepy," Maddie hissed.

"Hush. It is not."

"It smells like sweaty guys and cigarettes."

"That's the smell of rock and roll, baby."

"You don't smell like that."

"Dammit. I'll have to rock harder."

"If it means you’ll start reeking like this place, please don't. I won't want to come near you."

The second she said that, her hand lifted like she wanted to snatch the words out of the air. But too late, Princess, you already said them.

"Shut up," she said.

"I didn't say anything."

"You didn't have to. I can tell by your look."

"I'm over here, innocently buying strings. Stop insinuating things."

She huffed, adorable as ever, and stomped over to stare at a few cheap five strings that lined the wall. She crouched down, and I allowed myself a lingering look at the way her thighs strained against her jeans before I turned and reached up for what I needed. That's when I heard it.

"You're Madeline Cole."

I turned around, but Maddie didn't. She stayed crouched down, frozen in place. She looked like she hadn't heard the guy, but she definitely had.

I stepped back, far enough to give her space, but close enough to watch and be there if she needed me. That guy had creeper vibes oozing from his sweaty pores.

"Hey, you hear me?" he needled, getting into her space. I took an involuntary step forward.

"I did." Her voice was low, measured, controlled. I felt the distinct urge to deck this guy, whoever the fuck he thought he was.

"You're Madeline Cole, right?"

She finally straightened up. "I am." There was a rapid little pulse at the base of her neck. I had the strangest urge to kiss it.

The sweaty dude did this little shuffle-dance of triumph. "Oh my god, you are. I can't believe it."

"Me neither." Maddie sounded wistful, but the sweaty dude didn't notice or care.

"I thought about you every single day for like eight years."

"Every day?"

"Yeah." He leered, grabbing at his crotch. "Sometimes five or six times a day."

Maddie blinked several times. I quickly did the math. Her show wound up a year ago. She was twenty-three. That meant this guy had been thinking of her....

Fucking creepy ass pedophile...I clenched my fists, ready to flatten him.

Maddie lifted her chin. "Why would you tell me that?" Her voice was steady.

"It's a compliment." Sweaty guy licked his lips, raking his eyes over her body. "Bitch."

I was already moving. "Fucking say that again, asshole!"

"Rane, no...."

"Yes!"

"No!" She pressed her hand to my chest and whirled on the guy. "It's not a fucking compliment, it's creepy as hell. Do you have a girlfriend?

He looked completely caught off guard. "No."

She darted a quick look at me and gave a slight nod. Fire blazed in her eyes and I knew, I knew, she was flattening the box forever more. She whirled back on the hapless idiot like the fucking force of nature she really was. "That's because you say shit like that to women," she thundered. "Stop being creepy, go to the gym and then practice talking to women like they're people." She lifted her chin at him. "Then you can try to say hi to me again."

The guy looked from her, to me, back to her again, then turned away, muttering.

Maddie exhaled, long and shaky, and looked up at me. Her lower lip trembled ever so slightly.

I covered it with mine.

Here she was, the real Maddie, fucking
my
Maddie. I wasn't sure how I was ever going to let her go.

She pulled back. Blinked at me. Her whole body flushed, her lips parted as she sucked in a gasp. "Why'd you do that?" she said. She really wanted to know.

She had no idea how completely wild she drove me.

I forced my voice to stay level. "Dunno. Felt right."

"Yeah?" She blinked slowly, a pleased grin stretching across her face.

"Seeing you tear into that guy got me all hot and bothered." That wasn't even the half of it.

"I talk to you that way," she teased, poking me in the chest.

"Maybe I've been hot and bothered for a while now."

"Oh..."

This time, she kissed me.