Chapter 14
14
Caleb
I’ve made a lot of stupid decisions this summer, but the worst by far is inviting myself into Valerie’s bed.
Nothing happened, but I’m still high on her when I slip back into my own room the next morning, giving her a few minutes to hit snooze. As soon as I’m alone, I sink against the door between our rooms and lean my head back, trying to catch my breath. Even with a wall between us, I can feel her effect on me.
Her sugar and lemon scent. The tousled pink waves tickling my shoulder. Sheets pulled taut because they’re wrapped around curves.
I am definitely not over Valerie Quinn.
She makes me feel like I’m eighteen again, nervous and jumpy and flushed, desperate to kiss my best friend. There’s no way I’m going to get through another day all jittery like this without doing something to burn off the energy.
Hating myself for it, I stumble into the shower, turn the water to scalding, and try to get off as efficiently as I can. Like I’ve done so many times over the years, I embrace my guiltiest fantasy. I imagine it’s her hand instead of my own grasping my cock, water trailing down every delicious curve of her bare skin. I come embarrassingly fast.
God, if she knew what I was up to on the other side of her wall, she’d never let me back into her room.
There were a few times last night when I thought she might want me back, even before we shared the bed. Her eyes would linger on me too long, or her fingers would casually brush against my arm as we were scratching out lyrics and trying new melodies.
But there’s no way she actually still wants me.
After we cleared the air, I was reminded all too well that I hurt her just as much as she hurt me. Even if there was a future for us, I couldn’t expect her to try again. She’s obviously moved on. Hell, she might have only shared the bed last night because she pitied me, pining away for her from afar after she rejected my proposal.
But even though all we did was lie next to each other, something about it felt safe. Right. Like it’s something that never should have stopped.
My heart races as I try to make sense of that.
As I finish getting dressed and ready for the day, I think about how easy it would be to walk back into this life for good. The others are all still working in the industry, and they might be open to talking about a new album, no matter what they told Label. I don’t think a real Glitter Bats return is out of the realm of possibility, if I was on board.
I’m starting to wonder if leaving this life behind is really what I wanted, or if I was just running away from my problems.
But then my phone buzzes, and I shake off the thoughts. I need to get a grip. The text on my phone is from my older sister, Cameron, and I practically roll my eyes at the universe for the timing of her message.
Cameron: Hey! Hope the rock star life isn’t too terrible We miss you!
The text includes a selfie of her with Sebastian Bark laying his head on her shoulder. My dog is smiling, and Cam is making a pouty face.
My heart twists. God, I miss them.
She follows up almost immediately with a second text.
Cameron: Are you still planning to fly back in the middle of August? Carrie wants to pop down for a visit.
These past few weeks have felt like less of a brief visit to the musician life and more like an inevitable return, but I can’t believe she’s even asking. Of course I’m coming back after the concert. Cam’s text is a sharp, timely reminder that I can’t let Valerie lure me back to the industry. I need to focus on getting through the reunion so I can return to my life. My actual life in the real world. Reuniting with Glitter Bats is a fantasy, a temporary escape from reality.
Returning for good was never the plan. I have to be practical.
I shoot off a text to Cam:
Me: Yes! Maybe we can take Carrie to the coast if you can get the time off?
Cameron: Sounds perfect. I also wanted to let you know—Carrie mentioned these music schools like it when prospective students show up for in-person auditions in the fall. Did you know anything about that?
My stomach drops. Mom can’t afford to send Carrie to New York, and I absolutely can’t see her remembering to go with her even if she charged it all on another credit card.
I swallow thickly.
Me: No, but I’m happy to buy her plane tickets. I’ll take my personal days and go with her.
Cameron: I have some personal days too, and we can *split* the tickets.
I don’t want Cam using her money for this, not with what I’m doing this summer.
Me: No, I got this. I’m getting paid really well for this concert, you know.
Cameron: I’m sure you are, but this isn’t just your responsibility. Hell, it should be Mom’s responsibility.
It should be, but we both know Mom can’t do it. I’m sure these auditions could be taped instead of in person, but I want Carrie to have every edge she can get.
That’s why I’m here—so my baby sister can pursue her dreams.
Me: Okay. We’ll talk more when I get home.
I run a hand through my hair. Cam and Leah shouldn’t have to help. I never should have run through all my Glitter Bats money. God, if I’d hired a financial advisor like Keeley did, maybe none of my family would have to work now, even with those criminal royalty rates.
Cameron: Sounds good. Love you.
Me: I love you too. Kiss Sebastian Bark for me.
I let out a long, slow breath, trying to focus on the day ahead. So I brush my teeth and style my hair and try to remind myself this is all an act. Just as I’m finishing getting ready, there’s a soft knock on the door between rooms.
“Come in,” I call.
Valerie slips inside. “Good morning,” she murmurs, her hands wrapped around a water bottle.
“Good morning,” I say back. And damn , the way she’s smiling shyly at me almost knocks me off my feet.
At practice yesterday she was just wearing a hoodie and leggings, but we’re back to the rock star look—she’s in an oversized white tee, ripped black jeans, and combat boots, with a bunch of leather bracelets on her wrists. She’s playing up her eyeliner with a knife-sharp cat eye, and it makes her look a little mischievous and a whole lot sexy.
When she was on the other side of this door, I could almost believe those feelings weren’t real. Now, with her looking like a dream right in front of me, I don’t know what to think. So I just try to act casual. Valerie’s got enough going on—she doesn’t need to deal with all of my feelings.
“Ready to head down to brunch? Wade’s coming by so we can all talk,” she says.
I blink. “Oh. What about?”
She bites her lip, frowning. “Business.”
That’s ominous, but I know I’ll find out soon enough. “Okay. Let’s go.”
“Wait. Is that all you’re wearing?” Valerie strides over to my chair and grabs the leather jacket I draped over the back. She offers it to me. “Wear this too.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s like eighty degrees out.”
She pouts, fluttering her lashes dramatically as she looks at me with doe eyes. “For the aesthetic? Please?”
And damn it if that please doesn’t turn me on all over again. I definitely still can’t say no to Valerie, especially when she begs. Utterly powerless to resist, I reach out to take the jacket from her. Our fingers brush. My hands ache with the need to touch her again.
So I hurry to put the damn jacket on before I can do anything stupid. I clear my throat. “Fine, you win.”
Valerie puts her hands on her hips, stepping back. She assesses me, eyes slowly considering every piece of my haphazard outfit: Docs, jeans, a too-tight T-shirt. I warm under her scrutinizing gaze.
“You checking me out?” I ask, trying to sound casual despite the hoarseness in my voice.
“Do you have a problem with that?” she asks, eyes sparkling.
I reach a hand to my neck. “No.”
“Good. Had to make sure you’re pretty for any cameras. Let’s go.” And with that, she leads the way out of my room.
Dazed, I follow her through the door and down to breakfast.
There’s something public about brunch at a fancy restaurant in LA, and the hotel restaurant is one of the fanciest. Even the wrap I ordered from room service last week was decadent. The dining room is buzzing when we arrive, but I’m grateful when the host leads us to a private room.
But I’m a little confused. I thought the whole point was generating press—so why are we being secreted away?
The table is set with white linens and dishes, polished flatware, and carafes of coffee, hot water, and several kinds of juice. Two ice buckets hold champagne for mimosas, but I decide to abstain in favor of tea.
It’s just Wade, Keeley, and Jane so far, which means Riker is no doubt still making his way downstairs. Back when we were broke and splitting shitty hotel rooms, I learned just how impossible it was to wake him up. Once, in Nashville, I literally had to throw a glass of ice-cold water in his face. Good thing he’s such a good guitar player, because dude can’t show up on time even when he’s getting paid.
“Did anyone check on Riker?” Valerie asks.
“Oh yeah, I made him give me his second key so I could wake him up. He’s on his way down,” Jane says.
A shadow crosses over Keeley’s face, but she takes a sip of coffee and it disappears. Is she jealous of Jane—or of Riker? I always wondered if there was something going on there, some kind of attraction, but Keeley flirts with Val and me too. It was always hard to tell, especially because Jane is so private about her dating life. I don’t think any of us ever knew the kind of people she’s attracted to.
And it’s none of my business. The last thing I need to do is get involved in the romantic entanglements of my band, especially when I can’t make sense of my own. I busy myself making my tea, forcing all those old feelings away. Now is not the time.
Finally, Riker arrives, we all put in our orders, and the server leaves us to chat. As soon as the door to our private room clicks shut, Valerie clears her throat.
“We need to talk,” she says, and the look on her face is so vindicated that I wonder if we pulled it off.
Are they renewing Epic Theme Song ? Warmth fills my chest as I think that yes, we did it, and the media has finally been convinced that she’s not the villain. That’s the news I’m expecting.
The news she shares pulls the world out from under my feet.
“Our record deal wasn’t as bad as we thought.” She sighs, folding her hands on the table. “That is, our real deal. I found two copies in the files I scanned from my mom’s computer years ago—one real contract, and the doctored version she sent to Ortega Management.”
My stomach drops. I suspect I know where this is going.
“What?” Keeley says, almost dropping her coffee.
Wade sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “It’s true. I had an emergency meeting with legal this morning, and we combed over every line—the version we received from Tonya Quinn hid the real royalty rate. In fact, we just received the original after contacting Label, and it confirms it.”
“The fuck?” Riker demands.
Valerie’s eyes flash. “The true contract gives us double the royalties we’ve been seeing—but half is all going to Tonya. It explains why she showed up yesterday. She wants us to make another album so we’re still attached to Label. She’s a part of that original deal.”
“And Label thinks she can convince us to do it,” I say to Valerie.
“Yeah, I don’t think Label knows what my mom did.” Valerie clears her throat. “She really got herself the best deal out of anyone.” I’m not surprised, but it still makes me sick. Tonya has always been sneaky, and damn , I could have used my part of that money.
Double our royalties. Jeez. It would still be a bad record deal, but it would have made a difference.
“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Keeley says.
“I wish I was,” Valerie says. “She’s contracted as our manager, but we aren’t seeing anywhere near the royalties we should be—because she finagled everything so she’s getting 50 percent commission from each of us in addition to her cut from the band as a whole. Everyone in accounting at Ortega did the math. We just never caught it before because our royalty statements are net, not gross.”
I wince. My relationship with my mom is tough, but she’s never taken advantage of me the way Tonya does with Valerie. Tonya has always acted like her daughter is her meal ticket. She’ll do literally anything for a paycheck. Right before we released Bittersweet , some private photos Valerie took got leaked to the press, and I always suspected Tonya had something to do with it. I can’t imagine what that kind of relationship feels like.
To top it all off, she manipulated things from the start.
Yeah, I’ve paid for Mom’s groceries and utilities, and even fronted her rent a couple of times, but that was always initiated by me. Maybe I feel obligated to help take care of my sister, but it’s not like she’s taking money that belongs to me behind my back—or taking even more.
“Do we have any legal recourse?” Jane asks.
Wade sighs, running a hand over his face. “I have no idea. Our lawyers are on it.”
“I also know somebody who knows a PI, if we need one,” Riker says.
Wade opens his mouth to protest, then pauses. “That’s certainly one route, but I can’t legally advise you to do that.”
Riker shrugs, then fires off a text.
“So if we wait Label out, we could make another album in, say, December and actually earn our damn royalties ,” Keeley says. “Fuck, I want to get what we deserve. We’re damn good at making music. This is such bullshit!”
“But we’re not going to record again,” I say quickly.
Riker takes a slow sip of his coffee. “I know we told Gina that, but I don’t think we should rule it out.” His words are casual, measured, and I know what he’s doing: hedging his bets. I love Riker, but I can’t count on him to be a decision-maker. He’ll do what everyone else decides.
“We should only consider it if we all agree that’s something we want,” Jane says, catching my eye. “I’m interested, but it has to be unanimous.”
I give Jane a grateful glance, and she nods. Even now, she’s still trying her best to take care of all of us, the way she’s done so many times before. My eyes fall to Valerie, desperate to know what she’s thinking.
“I’m still processing the part about my mom stealing from us.” Valerie reddens, tearing her gaze from mine. “It would be great to make something she can’t touch. And I mean, there are songs we never recorded—hell, Caleb and I just worked on another last night. We could surprise the fans with it at the concert, and it could easily be a sneak peek to a new album.”
New album. My palms go damp with sweat, and I have to set down my mug of tea for fear of dropping it. This is happening so fast.
Wade raises a finger to interrupt. “Your contract is still crystal clear that if you express any intent to record additional music before expiration, it goes to Label. Watch what you say on that stage. Every word matters.”
I shake my head, trying to make sense of what’s happening. These plans are spinning so far out of what we agreed to that I have whiplash. I grab my napkin and ball it into my fist, trying to ground myself.
“Oh my god yes, I can’t wait to hear it!” Keeley says. “Everything the two of you write together is pure gold. Maybe it could even be a lead single.”
I clear my throat. “No. This concert is a one-time thing.” I try to say this with as much certainty as I can, but something twinges in my chest. Because after playing with everyone over the past few weeks, I do miss these people. I miss feeling like a family, and making our music together. There’s something so rewarding about all of it.
The money would have been rewarding too, if we’d gotten our fair share.
I miss writing with Valerie the most, but I have obligations back at home. Still, after this concert, will I really be ready to go back to my own life? To leave her behind for good this time?
I’m not sure. But there’s a twinge of a headache threatening at my temples, no doubt from the tension creeping up my shoulders. Part of me is tempted to pour coffee instead of the tea, but I know that’ll just affect my blood pressure.
Really, I should probably eat, but suddenly my stomach is twisting with anxiety and I can’t imagine taking a single bite of even the driest toast. As much as I would love to make everyone happy and jump on board the Glitter Bats 3 train, I know I can’t do it. Not yet.
Maybe not ever.
“I’m going to go on a run. I need to clear my head,” I say.
“Caleb, wait—” Valerie starts, but I cut her off with a hand, rising out of my seat.
“No, I really can’t talk about this right now. I’m happy we’re almost free of Label and I’m happy to discuss playing ‘Daydreams’ at the concert. But I’m not ready to make any decisions beyond that—even doing this concert was hard enough.”
And then I leave the restaurant before anyone can try to stop me.