The Bad Boys of Summer Anthology(194)

My mind drifts back to the angry little redhead. Something happened while I was gone. Something changed her mind about me. The only thing I can think of is Tammy. Fucking Tammy. And this time she’s gone too far. I slam my beer down on the end table, causing it to foam up and spill everywhere. I don’t even give it a second look. I pay people to clean up after me. Let them deal with the shit.

I stand and walk over to where Tammy is sitting on Walsh’s lap as he tells a story to a couple of the crew.

“I need to talk to you,” I say abruptly.

I see wariness pass over her face, but she fights me on it anyway. “I’m sort of busy here, Joss.”

Walsh has quit talking and is eyeing the two of us, undoubtedly wondering what the hell is going on.

“Sorry, this will just take a minute.” I try to tone it down so she’ll cooperate.

She sighs and then leans forward and kisses Walsh on the lips. My gut roils, but it’s almost more out of habit than any actual feeling.

“I’ll be right back, baby,” she tells him. He smiles at her but looks at me questioningly again. I know I’ll have to give him some sort of explanation eventually, but he’s going to let it go for now.

We walk out into the hall and shut the door.

“What the hell, Joss?” she spits. “I thought we weren’t talking unless it was about work?” She throws my angry words from earlier back in my face.

I grit my teeth, willing myself not to go berserk on her. “What the fuck did you say to Mel?” I ask harshly.

She smirks. “What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean. Between the time we came backstage and now. What the hell did you say to her?”

Her face falls. I suddenly feel as nervous as I do angry.

“Nothing. I haven’t even talked to her since the show ended. Why?”

I’ve known Tammy a long time. She’s telling the truth. I’ve hit a dead end. Maybe someone or something else upset Mel? Maybe she simply took a closer look at me and didn’t like what she saw? I run my hand through my hair in frustration. How will I figure it out if she won’t talk to me?

“Joss? What’s going on?” Tammy asks, looking concerned.

“Nothing,” I respond sharply. “Nothing’s going on. Go back to your boyfriend, Tammy. Forget I said anything.”

“No, I won’t forget it. What the hell did you do to her? So help me—”

“Tammy. I didn’t do anything to her except ask if she’d had any dinner. She took off suddenly and I thought maybe you’d been badmouthing me to her, as usual.”

Tammy huffs out a bitter laugh. “Actually, not today. Haven’t had the chance.” She gives me an evil smile. “But it sounds to me like she’s coming to her senses, thank God.”

I turn away from her, indicating that the conversation is over. If I open my mouth again, something really ugly’s going to come out.

“Take it as a sign, Joss. You need to spread your poison somewhere else.” She walks back inside and I slouch against the wall in the cold tile hallway, fluorescent lights flickering above me, and I wonder what the hell I’m doing with my mess of a life.





Chapter Sixteen

Mel



I’ve been back at the hotel for an hour or so when I have to admit that I’m not going to be able to sleep. I’m so frustrated I can’t relax. I’ve been pacing the floor in my room since I got here. All I can think about are all those women.

And Joss.

Joss grabbing that blonde at the limo before we boarded the bus. Joss back at the auditorium with the redheads and brunettes. Their bouncing breasts and skintight skirts. I’m sure most of them aren’t wearing any underwear. I think about Mike with the two girls and then flash to a picture of Joss in the same position.

It’s not rational. He’s not my boyfriend—not anything to me. We’re barely even friends, and he’s nothing but bad news. Anyone can see that. I have no business worrying and wondering about who he’s screwing or when or where. The fact that he’s a rock star makes the whole thing even more asinine. He’s got 24/7 access to as many women as he could ever want. If I have any sense at all, I’ll make damn sure I’m not one of them.

Aaargh! I scream out loud. I’ve got to get these revolving thoughts out of my head. I go to the bathroom and grab my swimsuit. I’ll just do laps until I can’t think anymore.



I’ve been in the pool nearly half an hour. At this time of night, I’m the only one up here and I’m glad for that. The water is soothing, and my mind isn’t racing anymore. I’m settling into thoughts about the photo project and the next few tour stops. What pictures I need to get, what angles for concert shots might work best. I’m floating on my back, looking up at the Los Angeles sky, which is rife with airplanes and helicopters, satellite towers and spotlights. It’s full of lights, but none of them are stars, as the manmade types have shoved nature’s jewels to the background.

“Hey,” a quiet voice says from the edge of the pool. I yelp in surprise and move upright, ready to swim like hell to escape whatever psycho-killer has caught me in the pool at two a.m.

But when I look at the darkened side of the pool deck, I see Joss squatting down, watching me.

“Sorry.” He chuckles. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

I catch my breath, because I was startled, not because he’s wearing a pair of loose, long swim trunks on his narrow hips and no shirt.

“It’s okay. What are you doing here? Isn’t there a party in your honor you’re supposed to be at?”

He sits down and puts his legs in the water like he did the other night when we were here together. The glow from the pool lights shine up on him, putting part of his face and torso in shadows. But I can see the tattoos snaking around his upper arms and down one side of his chest. They swirl and angle, hugging the curves of his pecs and biceps.

“The best part of the party left. I lost interest after that.”

I have a hard time not smiling at that. Women, I remind myself. Tons of them. And he’s a rock star.

“Huh. Seemed like there were plenty of very, shall we say, enthusiastic reasons to stay,” I respond.

He watches me for a minute. Then he gives a sharp nod of his head as if he’s just heard something. Understood something new.

“I assume you’re talking about the groupies?” he asks quietly.

I shrug, which isn’t so easy while treading water. I finally swim over to the steps in the corner of the pool and sit, covered in water up to my waist. I lean back against the wall of the pool. I’m around the corner from Joss now, and I see him purse his lips. Then he stands up, walks over to the side I’m on, and sits down a few feet from me.

“Mel?”

“Yeah?” I answer, trying to seem casual and failing miserably.

“What happened tonight?”

I sigh. This is humiliating. I don’t want to have to tell Joss Jamison that I’m such a child I didn’t really understand what the rock and roll lifestyle meant and that, when I finally got it, I was disgusted. I really didn’t want to be Little D anymore, but this will seal it. It’s no wonder my sister thought I needed to share a suite with her.

“It doesn’t matter, Joss. I don’t want to talk about it.”

He scoots closer until he can reach out with his foot and rub it along the top of my thigh.

His voice is low and sends little shivers down my spine. “It does matter. I thought we were having a great time and then you ran off. I want to know if someone did something to upset you. Even if that someone was me. I’ll kick my own ass if necessary.”

I giggle at that and finally look him in the eye. He seems so concerned. I can’t lie to him.

“I think maybe I wasn’t fully prepared for the rock life is all.”

“Yeah? Tammy hadn’t filled you in on the details, huh?” He sounds sympathetic. God, I want to crawl in a hole and never come out.

“Tammy treats me like I’m a child. And I guess after the way I acted tonight, it’s no wonder,” I say bitterly.

He scoots closer again. “Mel,” he says as he puts his fingers under my chin and tilts my face up so I’m forced to look him in the eye. “Do you think it wasn’t a shock for the rest of us the first time we went to a party with one of the bands we were opening for? I mean, I can tell you which band it was and what city the concert was in and even the year. And we talked about it for a solid month afterwards. It was fucking unbelievable. There was coke laid out all over the coffee tables and strippers giving lap dances for free. Walking around topless like it was the most natural thing in the world,” —he pauses momentarily— “which I guess in a certain way it is.” Then he laughs, and I can’t help but join him.

“The point is,” he continues, “it takes getting used to for everyone. And you need to know that everyone handles this—the fame and the groupies and the things that are offered—differently.” He pauses again. “I assume you got an eyeful of Mike tonight?”

“Um, yeah,” I answer, sticking my tongue out in a gagging motion.

Joss cracks up. “You’re not the first to have that reaction. And that’s him. He was that way before we ever got famous. He just didn’t have nearly as much luck with it. But you know Walsh has never strayed from your sister. I swear it. Never.”