Wicked Reunion (Wicked White Series Book 2) (6 page)

NOW

JARED

A
sea of sweat-riddled bodies jumps in time with the beat. It’s truly a sight I never dreamed I would see, and it amazes me that these people are all here for my band.

Playing in front of a sold-out crowd is one of the best feelings in the world. It’s the only place I can be lately where my mind totally shuts off while the music and the energy of the crowd overtake my body. The coolest thing in the world is when everyone seems to know your name simply because you can play the shit out of an instrument.

I shred the last few riffs on the guitar as Ace belts out the lyrics to the crowd, and thousands of people join in with him, knowing every single word. Ace streaks past me like lightning in the all-white clothing that Jane Ann insists we wear as part of the marketing push behind the band’s name, Wicked White. After nearly four years, I’m getting pretty damn tired of this all-white clothes bullshit.

I would love to say that I’m not jealous of Ace, but the truth is that I’m consumed with jealousy. Admitting that I want what Ace has makes me feel like a complete asshole, but there’s no way I can deny it, even to myself, and I’m sure everyone around me sees it too.

One day Ace is going to screw up, and when he does, I’ll be there to take his spot as front man of this band and prove that I was the best choice all along.

As the last beat of a song plays, Ace throws his hand in the air, waving, and the crowd goes wild, begging for more. “We’re Wicked White! Thank you!”

I shove my hair out of my eyes as I remove the strap from around my neck and hand Joe, one of our roadies, the white guitar I played during the show.

“Nice playing, Jared,” Joe says as he tucks a strand of his sandy-blond hair behind his ear. “You guys were really in sync tonight. The best live playing I’ve heard from you all.”

“Thanks, man. It’s taken us a while. It’s hard at times to get us all on the same page off the stage, but for some reason when we get in front of a live audience, we just come together. Wanting to get the music perfect is about the only thing we all agree on.”

Joe nods and then pats me on the back. “Whatever it is, it’s working for you. You guys keep sounding like that, and we’ll have a set job for a long, long time.”

When I step backstage, Ace is nowhere to be found, but my other two bandmates, Tyler and Luke, are waiting for me. These two aren’t what I would exactly consider my friends, but they definitely like me more than they like Ace.

Luke grins and his face lights up the moment we make eye contact. “Dude, we’re all going out tonight. There’s some strip club here in town that’s supposed to have chicks with fantastic tits and incredible food. You in?”

I hesitate before I answer. Typically when the band is on the road, I can be found in the hotel bar drinking myself into oblivion. I rarely go out. Having lighthearted fun isn’t something I’m into anymore. I’m too fucked up to be able to enjoy myself, because I have to constantly live with the guilt of my past and how I treated the people in my life who once loved me. I don’t do relationships of any kind anymore. They’re too painful, and I know that nothing ever goes right, so there’s no use in trying to pretend that there’s a happily ever after waiting for me.

Luke shoves his hands deep into the front pockets of his jeans while he awaits my answer.

I shake my head. “Naw, man. I’m beat. I think I’m going back to my room to crash. You guys have fun.”

He sighs. “All right, then. We’ll catch you later.”

When they walk away, I grab the hem of my shirt and pull it up to wipe the sweat from my face. Running around on stage fires me up, reminding me that I’m still alive, and is really one of the only things that gets my blood pumping these days. The second I drop it back down, I find Jane Ann walking directly toward me with a smile on her face.

“Well, I see our last little chat about getting your shit together is working. I was glad to find you here on time and sober—ready to perform and back Ace up like you should. If you keep working together like this, I see huge things in the band’s future. Wicked White could turn into one of the biggest bands to hit the scene in a long, long time if you all can learn to play nice with one another.”

I fight hard to keep from rolling my eyes at her. “What makes you think we can be that huge? The music we’re playing sounds exactly like every other thing on the radio.”

“Exactly!” she says, the excitement in her voice clear as day. “On the radio, we blend in but stand out enough to be noticed. Wicked White’s music is getting so much play in the top forty right now. What really sets you all apart are your looks. Dressing all in white is a perfect gimmick to make people remember you, and once they start remembering you, they’ll start following you. Hell, you’re all good-looking guys too, and that certainly doesn’t hurt. I wouldn’t be surprised if Ace gets voted sexiest man alive at some point in time, and when that happens sales will explode.”

“Who gives a shit about getting on the cover of some magazine?” I grumble.

“I do!” she says. “Don’t you know how much publicity that will throw onto the band? Not only will the people who listen to the pop stations know you, but the rest of the world as well.”

“Why would it be Ace? It could easily be me if you would allow me to sing on a few tracks,” I quickly retort.

“Look, Jared. We’ve been over this. You being front man for this band is never going to happen. You’re not the leader type. Ace has a calm demeanor and everyone loves him. When the two of you get into it, he’s the one with the more level head. That’s the kind of man we need fronting this band.”

I roll my eyes. “I get so sick of hearing you praise Ace while putting the rest of us down at the same time. How do you know that he’s the right man for the job? The guy rarely speaks to any of us, and when he does it’s to belittle someone else, namely me, and make it seem like his ability to create music is far superior to mine, and I don’t appreciate that one damn bit.”

Jane Ann sighs. “Look, Jared. I’m not going to stand here and have
this same argument with you again. We’ve gone over this a million times. The label and I have chosen Ace. The decision has been made, and if you haven’t noticed, the crowd loves him. Hell, the ticket sales
are proving that we’ve made the right choice. You just have to get over
the fact that you’ll never be the one in charge—the one in the spotlight.
You might’ve been the ‘it’ guy when it came to playing on the field, but in this business—in this band—Ace is the man. Get used to it.”

My nostrils flare and my cheeks grow hot, no doubt turning my face red. It pisses me off when she acts like I’m supposed to be okay
with sitting back and playing second fiddle when this wasn’t what I was
promised, but it looks like there’s nothing I can do about the choice
they’ve made if I want to stay in this band. “Fine, but don’t be surprised
when shit doesn’t work out with Ace. I don’t think the guy has what
it
takes to be a real leader, and he will eventually fuck this band over.”

I don’t give her a chance to say anything else to me. I can’t stand here and listen to her talk about how I’m not good enough one more minute.

I quickly find a ride back to the hotel, needing my space from the whole Wicked White scene. I spend most of my time alone. I don’t do well with people—not anymore. My only friend in this world is Jack, and I’m glad that I can pretty much find him at any bar in the world.

I plop down at the hotel bar, and the middle-aged guy with a graying goatee behind it greets me. “What are you drinking?”

I lay three one-hundred-dollar bills on the marble bar top. “Jack. Make it a double and keep them coming until I’m barely able to ride the elevator back up to my room.”

The man’s brown eyes flick down to the money, and he nods. He doesn’t ask any questions as he pulls out two glasses, and I’m thankful for that. I’m sure he sees his fair share of people who come to drink to forget the shit in their lives. “You got it.”

It’s times like these when I feel the most alone. Whenever I had a problem before, I would just tell London about it, and together we’d figure out a solution. If she were in my life right now, I would be filling her ear with the bullshit that Jane Ann and Ace have been pulling on me lately.

I sigh as I pick up the drink in front of me. That girl . . . she’s irreplaceable. Not only was London the love of my life but my best friend too. I don’t think I’ll ever get over her. The best I can ever hope for is finding a distraction to keep my mind off of her.

The cool glass rolls against my lips as I tip my head back and shoot the fiery liquid down my throat and then immediately follow it with the other glass. The burn is comforting. It wasn’t the right choice, learning to deal with my problems by drowning them with alcohol, I know that, but it was the only thing that worked to take the pain away for just a little while. I have a hard time forgetting how fucked up everything got since the day my entire world was rocked. Since that day I’ve learned that I can’t be a burden on anyone else but me—that I can’t put my problems on someone else, because that will only make them miserable too.

The bartender quickly refills my glasses, and those disappear just as fast. It’s not until I’ve drunk away my first hundred dollars that I notice an attractive woman in her late thirties watching me from two stools down. She’s turned her chair toward me, crossed her toned, slender legs in my direction, and is making no attempt to hide the fact that she’s studying me intently. Her long brown hair falls over her shoulders in soft waves. When I lock my gaze with hers, she grabs the pick holding the olive in her martini and wraps her lips seductively around the little green ball before sucking it off the stick.

There’s no mistaking what this woman wants from me. I’ve been through this more times than I care to admit over the past few years.

With that said, I’m still a man, and I have needs. I’ve learned to never turn away a hot piece of ass that’s willing and very eager to please me. Every conquest I’ve had as of late has been a random lonely woman at the hotel bar. It’s convenient for me to offer to go to their room and fuck their brains out. Most of them are alone on business trips, and I’m sure they’ve got husbands or boyfriends back home waiting for them, but I don’t care. I’ll never see them again, so no one will ever know about their one-night tryst with a rock star. It will just be a memory for them. One they use to get themselves off every now and then when they think about me while their poor schmuck of a husband fucks them.

My affairs never get publicized, and I’m thankful for the privacy. That’s one of the reasons fucking soccer moms is a smart move—they’re hell-bent on keeping their night with me a secret too.

I meet her stare and lick my lips slowly, in a way to make sure she gets that I’m reading her signals loud and clear. “Can I buy you a drink?”

She smiles and stands up. My eyes trace the contours of her body as she swishes her hips in her tight black skirt. This woman is practically in heat, her body begging for me to make it feel good.

She takes the seat next to me and then bites her lower lip. “Sure, lover.”

I glance in the bartender’s direction and point down to the lady’s nearly empty glass, and then hold up my index finger.

The woman beside me doesn’t waste any time as she places her hand on my inner thigh and leans in to whisper in my ear, giving me a straight shot down her form-fitting blouse so I can see that she doesn’t have a bra on. “You’re so sexy in person, and I’m a huge fan who would love to show you a little appreciation. Have you ever been with an older woman?”

For some reason thinking they are the first older woman I’ve ever been with excites them. They get off on the whole Mrs. Robinson thing. I’m sure in this woman’s mind she’s about to show me just how good being with an older woman can be, so I’ll pretend with her, just like I do each and every time, that she’s my very first older lover.

I graze my teeth over my bottom lip and allow my eyes to dip down to her tits before I pull my gaze back up to meet hers. “No, but you sure look like a mom I’d like to fuck.”

Her ruby-red lips pull apart as she grins, loving my answer. “What would you say if I asked you to come up to my room for a bit of fun, then?”

I raise my eyebrows. This one definitely isn’t a bit bashful, and
my
brain turns with the possibilities of all the freaky shit this woman
might be into. Fucking her will be a damn good time. I can already tell.

Sex has become another distraction for me. In the moment all I can think about is finding my own release, and the memories of my past stay far away for that brief time. More than anything, all I want to do is forget—forget how I walked out on everyone who ever gave a damn about me like they didn’t matter to me anymore.

I twist my lips like I’m contemplating her offer, but then I give her the grin she’s been waiting for, letting her know she’s about to get exactly what she’s practically begging me for.