Rub Me the Right Way(238)

“I’ll be waiting in the shower,” he said. Then he glanced in my direction. “You’re welcome to join us, Blondie. Actually, both of you.” Without a word to Halle, he strolled into the bathroom and turned the water on, leaving the door, so all three of us had a view.

He looked a bit older than her but not much older than me—maybe twenty-five or six at most, and he was incredibly handsome with a dark tan and sandy brown hair and smoldering eyes. Not to mention his impressive size, which Halle took like a pro.

At twenty-three I was hardly a prude, but I didn’t care to see things on display, and I despised the girls that they played these wicked games. I didn’t understand why they couldn’t just be normal, but then I guess they’d never been.

I turned to Sadie. “We still need to go over your schedule. I know it’s freed up a bit, but you still have that promo shoot and that guest appearance.”

Halle walked up behind me, the smell of sex wafting around her. “Relax, our manager will remind us.” She was referring to their mother who had taken on the job as their manager since they were old enough to say Hollywood.

“No, she won’t actually, your mother told me to handle it. That’s why she hired me.” I let out a breath as they laughed.

“Is that what you think?” Sadie and Halle both said at the same time in creepy twin fashion, but then Halle continued alone. “That’s what she wants you to think. You’re her charity case, nothing more, and she’s simply trying to make you feel relevant since your mom died.”

Ouch. My jaw clenched, and I lifted my chin, determined not to let them get to me. “Wouldn’t be easier just to let me do my job?”

The two exchanged a look, and then a shared smile spread across their faces, but this time it was Sadie who spoke, “What would be the fun in that?”

Halle sauntered away to join her man in the shower, and Sadie stepped out of the way so I could escape.

There was no sense in complaining about anything that had happened to Nola. She’d take her daughter’s sides in any matter I put before her.

As I headed down the stairs to the second story landing, the sound of music filled the air, a familiar sound, but not a familiar song. I crept down to the open door and peeked inside the music room where Scott Blue, a rock legend, played his guitar. He was so handsome for an older man, and there was something so familiar about him. It wasn’t just that I’d known him most of my life since his wife and my mother were best friends, but it was like when he looked at me, something in his soul recognized mine. It was like a kindred spirit of sorts, but maybe it was because I’d grown up listening to his music, to his voice, and the poetic lyrics that the world knew and loved.

He kept his head down, his shoulder length, brown hair tucked back in a ponytail, which looked very similar to the twins’ in color, as he strummed his guitar. I left him undisturbed but ran into his mother on the way down the hall.

“I don’t care how old we get. I will always love to hear him play his guitar.” Mama Blue, or Millie as I called her, had a faraway look in her eyes as she listened to her son play.

“I’ve listened to him my entire life, too. I suppose that’s something we have in common.”

She laughed. “I’ve got that in common with millions, but no one gets to hear the imperfections, the rough notes, or when he tunes his guitar. Those times are special to me. No matter how famous, no matter what an icon or idol, he’s my baby boy.” She released a breath and turned her head to meet my eyes. “What’s troubling you? Don’t you like it here?”

“I’m not exactly a guest, I’m practically staff and please don’t take it the wrong way, but my job is a bit testy at the moment.” I had to watch what I said about her granddaughters.

She chuffed a laugh. “Between me and you,” she leaned in closer. “Don’t let those little bitches get to you. They’re spoiled rotten and are more like their mother than my son.” She stood upright and then nodded in my direction. “I knew your mother. She was a good woman, and you remind me so much of her.”

About that time, Scott Blue tuned his guitar, and the old woman smiled and continued down the hall.

She was possibly the only person in the house that understood me.





Chapter 2



Aiden

Hearing my mother’s ringtone was like hearing an alarm, and nothing could wake me from a dead sleep quicker unless it was her own voice. I rolled over to answer, seeing that I wasn’t alone, still. I’d hoped that by the time I woke up, Zep would have gotten rid of the young ladies we’d picked up at the club the night before.

I nudged her as I rolled over as I sat up with the phone in hand, but my mother had already hung up. By the time I went to call her back, a text buzzed through the device and three words appeared on my screen that sent me into motion. On my Way.

Fuck.

I got to my feet and hurried down the hall to Zep’s room, hoping my live-in best friend and soul brother would act fast.

I threw open his door and walked in before I noticed the look on his face or the redhead who was leaned back and riding his cock. She covered her breasts but continued to work him as I stopped in my tracks unfazed.

“She’s on her way!” Those words sent Zep into motion and growled out as he lifted her up.

“The party is over, princess. It’s time to leave.”

“But you didn’t even come.” She pouted and dragged ass to the hall where her friend had come to see what all the commotion was about and Zep dressed as he ran down the hall beside me like two soldiers preparing for inspection.

The girls headed for the door, and the redhead turned and called across the room, “Call me.” I shook my head and hurried them out the door, but it was no use, they passed right by my mother on the way down the path of my house.

“I’m going to make the two of you move back into the main house if this kind of behavior continues. You’re not a child anymore, Aiden.” She glanced over to Zep who was still buttoning his shirt. I’d been smart enough to grab a tee, but it was wrinkled, and I wasn’t sure I hadn’t used it to wipe up my come the night before. I checked it for spots and realized that my sexy waitress was probably wearing the stain. You’re welcome.

“You’re not one either, Zep.” She rolled her eyes and then turned her attention back to me. As her son, she was going to have the most opinions about me and the bigger expectations.

“We just went to the club and met some ladies.” I had defended my right to pussy more times than I cared to in my life.

“Those strippers were not ladies,” she barked.

“They were waitresses,” said Zep as if it would help.

Patricia shook her head. “Now, I let you get away with acting like a scoundrel after your father’s death. I knew that it was a way for you to release your emotions, but now it’s time to settle down and preferably with someone who isn’t wearing a name tag.”

“Heaven forbid I end up with someone beneath my status and income. Like I’ll find another billionaire in the world who wants to settle down.” She was always riding me about my kind of friends.

“I’m not going to sit around while one of these common gutter trash skanks moves in on you for your money. You know plenty of good girls from fine, wealthy families who are not looking to be gold diggers or suck off the Prince family tit.” Zep laughed at the word and then I gave him a nudge.

“Sorry, I wasn’t aware there was a tit,” he mumbled. I shook my head as my mother rambled on about how things were going to change.

“I’ve decided to host another gala. It’s been a while, and I’d like to focus more on the younger generation, so I’ll be sending out invites accordingly.” My blood boiled. Mother had been known for hosting lavish events before my father’s death, and they were usually a way for her to find a new lover, which is what the tabloids had all said over the years. I wouldn’t have held much stock in those sources if I hadn’t known it to be true, but aside from that, it seemed like a terrible time and a huge waste of money. I didn’t need her using me as an excuse to do her trolling.

“Is it really appropriate for a ritzy event? It hasn’t even been a full two years. Don’t you think you could give it more time?” I kept my tone clipped, but she wasn’t having it.

“You dare talk to me about what is appropriate when you’ve been bringing in women like this guest house has a revolving door? I’ll decide what’s appropriate.”

With that I met her eyes, mine still narrowed with anger and hers equally as fierce. “You always have, Patricia.” Calling her by her first name instead of some maternal endearment was like throwing ice water in her face, but then she stood a bit taller and squared her shoulders.

“We’re having the gala. I suggest you be prepared to use the event to find a nice girl and settle your ways before you impregnate some gutter trash waitress and spoil the family name.”

“I don’t know, Patricia, your gutter trash reputation didn’t spoil it.”

Zep stiffened beside me and mother’s shoulders drooped for a moment before she held her head high. She’d had a troubled life and spent her teen years rebelling again an abusive mother only to claw her way up in the music business as a producer.