Chapter 2
Rosalie
Ilistened in stunned silence as Eunice interviewed Kingsley and Dolly about their new relationship.
They had toured together for almost a year now, Dolly said, her eyes looking adoringly up at the man whose cum was literally still dripping down my throat.
Apparently love had grown slowly, blossomed as they spent more time together.
“She has such a gentle spirit,” Kingsley said, his arm around Dolly’s slim little shoulders.
Flashes burned my eyes as Cornelius snapped pictures of their lovesick glances.
Since when did Kings give one single fuck about that?
He had always been a cocky asshole, with that magnetic, careless confidence. This interview was like he’d been taken over by a sappy pod person. Is that what he was like in love?
I wanted to throw up.
“I’ve thought of nothing but Dolly for months now,” Kingsley said. “And we finally decided to make it official.”
For months now? What a fucking dirty liar he was.
I knew exactly who he’d fucked for months now because he was such a lazy fuck I was the one who had to tell half of them he didn’t want anything serious.
“Baby girl, do me a solid and text back can’t meet up, in the studio,” Kingsley would say, tossing his phone over to me, and I’d scroll past endless perfect tits and ass copy/pasting his dismissive messages.
He wasn’t the relationship guy. He was the guy you’d fuck and go home wondering how you’d fit that inside you.
And then he’d crook his head at me and I’d climb on his dick and bounce up and down, and he’d look at me with that lazy, cocky grin I could never resist.
But now I listened in numb shock as the plane took off and we flew through the perfect summer-blue skies.
“That’s so sweet,” Eunice said, scribbling in her notepad efficiently. “After all, you kind of have the reputation of a major playboy. Is this playboy finally going to settle down?”
“I think so,” Kingsley laughed, running a hand through his hair like his balls hadn’t just been drained in the bathroom by me.
Dolly, meanwhile, was trembling with excitement. I had noticed during the last few concerts that she seemed to have a crush on him, always showing up when we were going out for pizza or riffing new lyrics at the hotel.
But he’d never acted interested. She wasn’t his usual type—quiet, shy, sweet.
Kingsley wasn’t into sweet.
Until now.
He had a girlfriend and it wasn’t me.
I felt deeply stupid and idiotic. Waiting for years for him to decide it was time to settle down.
What a waste. My gut ached, and I had to suck in huge lungfuls of air, the plane spinning around me. My fingers tightened so hard on the seat that Matt had to pat my arm gently.
“You OK?”
I could only nod numbly.
Kings’ manager Cornelius’ slicked-back head kept nodding up and down at every single interview answer. His stupid tie was so tight it looked like it was cutting off his circulation.
Irritated, I distracted myself by grabbing a copy of Kings’ schedule for the upcoming week.
When was the earliest time I could leave the tour?
But what the hell? Cornelius had done up this schedule like Kings had just been arrested for drunk and disorderly conduct. Which he hadn’t been.
This year.
“What are you doing?” I hissed at the manager, gesturing at the schedule.
“Nothing,” he said, but Cornelius’ stupid boot-licky face was shining.
“Why do you have him out here doing a tour like he’s a saint? You know this can’t last. He can’t keep this up.”
“Yes, he can!”
I flipped the paper around, trying to ignore the nightmarish interview in the background, how the muscles in Kingsley’s arm flexed as he held Dolly tightly.
“Look how many charity events you’ve scheduled for him. Charity concert at the zoo? And what’s this shit? He’s supposed to have an original song for the endangered black-footed ferret benefit concert? Has he already done that?”
“No, that’s what you’re here for.”
“The hell I am! I’m not writing with him anymore.”
I said it without thinking, but suddenly it was true. It had to be true.
A panicked look crossed Cornelius’ face, but he stuffed it quickly down.
“That is a lot of time Kingsley has to behave himself. I don’t think he can do it.”
Cornelius pulled in annoyance at his tie.
“As you can see,” he said slyly, gesturing over to Kings and Dolly on the other side of the plane, “There’s a new Sheriff in town, Rosalie. You’re not top dog anymore. He can do this. He’s about to transition into a more distinguished phase of his career.”
I rolled my eyes and said nothing. It wasn’t any of my business anymore. I didn’t think this dirtbag had changed, but it wasn’t my job to care.
I was finally done with him.
When we arrived at the private airstrip, obviously word had already gotten out about Kingsley’s arrival, because there was a veritable mob out in the street by the waiting limo.
Police were having to divert traffic around the tightly-packed crowd, and they were working overtime to keep his fans from literally surrounding the limo and chewing it down to the wires.
Kingsley, of course, only grinned and loped off the plane, followed closely by his private security Roberto and Jacob, both massive hulking men the size of a barn. They took their jobs very seriously.
“Can I get your bags?” Matt asked, smiling in his usual friendly way to me.
He was broad-shouldered and thickly muscled, with a shock of bright light-blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a very engaging crooked grin.
I glanced out the window to see Kinglsey surrounded by a mob of fans, a Sharpie in his hand.
He was signing tits, ass, foreheads, belly buttons, whatever the women presented to him.
“He doesn’t look ready for family-friendly entertainment to me,” I said as Kingsley tore off his shirt and flung it into the crowd.
Matt hoisted both our suitcases in his arms and I followed him down the stairs.
“What was he like when you first met in college?” Dolly asked in awe. “I wish I’d been there.”
“He was exactly the same as he is now,” I said sourly.
Always the center of attention, the golden boy. No matter what he did, it didn’t fucking matter. Women adored him anyway. He could be coming home from a 24-hour bender smelling like 24-hour fish and chips, and it didn’t matter.
He’d have a line of eager pussy halfway down the block. And he’d go through them all and then text me at 6 am wanting to go out for a burger.
My heart gave a little lurch, but I ignored it.
Five years of stupidly hoping he’d come around.
That he’d see that I was actually the woman of his dreams.
And instead it was Dolly simpering along beside me, begging everyone’s pardon, and looking like Little Bo-Peep. She was the one he wanted.
The crowd ignored us as we all got into the limo, and after some time Kingsley was shepherded in as well, and we drove slowly downtown to the swankiest hotel in the entire city. He crammed in beside me and spread his arms out wide.
“Damn, they love me here.”
There was a slick sheen of sexy perspiration on Kings’ chest, and I had to clench my fists together to avoid looking at him.
Disgusting man.
Well, he could fuck around on his beloved Dolly all he liked, but it wasn’t going to be with me.
We were guided upstairs by star-struck hotel staff to our luxury suite, which had a massive center lounge in the middle of private rooms that all opened onto it. Each bedroom had a massive bed, huge hot tub, and a stunning view over downtown Chicago.
The center lounge had a full bar, couch that looked like a $4,000,000 marshmallow, and a full kitchen with a private chef.
Most of the time, Kings wanted to christen every new hotel room with fucking, we did it so much that in every new city I was practically naked before my bags dropped onto the ground. But this time I felt dead inside.
After I put my bags in my room, I went out to sit by Matt and he grinned at me, passing over the private chef food service menu.
“Want to pregame some chicken wings before we actually go out to dinner? It’s like the only thing not on this menu. And I need to get my macros in.”
I had to laugh because Matt was always starving.
“Yeah, why don’t you go get us some chicken wings?” Kingsley suggested, coming up behind me. “Rosalie, I think you left something in my room.”
I ignored him, pulling out my phone to take a selfie with the Chicago skyline behind me.
He could go take Dolly in his room for his customary inaugural hotel fuck. Why didn’t he?
I felt his eyes on me, but I ignored him.
Was she supposed to be the good girl who got the official girlfriend status, and I was the dirty little secret he fucked when he wanted something filthy? No way. I wasn’t going to play that game.
Kingsley went into his room, stayed for a few seconds, then came out again, still eyeing me.
But I was already sitting on the couch with my phone out. It did feel like a marshmallow.
There was already a bartender making mixed drinks, while Matt was still perusing the menu.
“Bro, go get some chicken wings,” Kingsley said again.
“Don’t order him around,” I protested, but Matt was so sweet he had already gotten up.
“Sure, I’ll be right back.”
Everyone else seemed to be in their rooms, and Kingsley grabbed a bottle of complimentary wine, popped the cork, and drank it straight from the bottle.
“Classy,” I said.
“Here, have some,” he grinned. “I like the way your mouth looks sucking on stuff.”
I ignored his dirty remark.
“No, thanks.”
Kingsley slid over the back and onto the couch.
“What’s up with you?”
He was still shirtless, and his smell was disturbingly familiar, that godawfully expensive European cologne, the touch of hair gel, that intoxicating smell of sun on skin, something that smelled like the promise of sex and sin.
The smell that had made me weak and wet and dripping since college.
“Why aren’t you in my bedroom? Come on, baby girl, get that ass in there. You know Chicago make me horny.”
My hands tightened around my phone.
“What are you suggesting? Getting a dirty fuck from me and then going back to your girlfriend for some nice respectful sex later?”
“Yeah,” Kingsley said without blinking. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
“No,” I snapped, turning back to the lyrics I was working on.
He leaned closer, brushing my hair away so he could see what I was doing, his fingers a breath past my shoulder, curling briefly around my throat.
“Want to work on some songs together? I need a song by the end of the week. Something about ferrets or some shit.”
Since the first day he’d raised a finger at me and jerked his head toward his dorm room, I’d belonged to him.
But not anymore.
“I quit,” I said.
He only raised an eyebrow, leaning forward to take a strand of my long dark hair and twirl it around his finger.
“You quit what?”
I slapped his hand away.
“You. This job. Traveling with you. Songwriting with you. I’m quitting it all.”
Kingsley slid his eyes sideways at me. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing’s going on,” I said. “I quit.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not going to quit. Why would you quit? Do you want more money? Just tell Cornelius whatever you want your salary to be.”
“It’s not the salary,” I said, annoyed. “It’s you. I don’t want to be around you anymore.”
He still had that arrogant smirk on his face.
“You pissed at me? Come fuck it out in the bedroom. You can pick, baby girl. Ass or pussy.”
OK, so apparently he was going to play stupid.
“Seriously?” I almost snarled. “You can’t fuck your way out of this one, Kings. I’m talking about you going public with Dolly. When you’ve always told me you weren’t a relationship guy.”
“I wasn’t. I changed my mind.”
Changed his mind? After all those years waiting for him to be ready to commit, waiting to him to somehow fall in love. . .
And he had. . . with another woman.
Bitter bile filled my throat.
“You mean you weren’t a relationship guy with me.”
The words were out before I could take them back.
“What do you mean?”
His hand was on my leg, running up my thigh, and I slapped it away.
The first rule of our situationship was we didn’t ever talk about what it was. About emotions. But everything was all fucked now, so why didn’t I blow us up even further?
“How did you think I’d feel seeing you go public with another woman?”
Kingsley stilled, his eyes scanning mine.
It felt like my cheeks burned with humiliation, rage boiling in my throat.
That was supposed to be how I justified it to myself.
We were best friends, we were fuck buddies. And we never, ever talked about how I’d been in love with him since college.
That made it not pathetic. That made it cool and casual.
“You can’t pretend you didn’t know how I felt about you,” I said, my throat feeling tight and constricted.
Kings met my eyes, those long lashes swept over his cheekbones.
“Baby girl, you and I go way back. Let’s not fuck that up. We have a good thing going.”
Anger and humiliation burned under my skin. He had known. He had known the whole time.
“Did you or didn’t you know, Kings?”
“I knew. It doesn’t bother me, though. You’re cool, you don’t let it affect our friendship. I’m fine with it.”
“Yeah, you’re fine with it,” I said bitterly. “Because you could keep me on the roster, always doling out little scraps of affection because you knew I’d be eager for anything.”
“Don’t be like that, babe. It’s silly. You know I think we make better friends.”
“Better for you, all right. Because I’ve always given you sex whenever you wanted. Well, now I’m over it. This trip is the last one I’m ever taking with you. I’m not doing shit for you and I’m definitely not writing any more songs with you.”
Kingsley only shrugged and stretched his long limbs, showing inches of his tanned flat stomach and six-pack abs.
“I’ll call your bluff, baby girl. I know you can’t stay away from me for long.”
Fury crackled under my skin as his face looked cool and unaffected.
Five years together. Five years of being Kingsley and Rosalie, best friends and the perfect duo.
I wrote the songs and he sung them. It helped his image that he got that singer-songwriter cred and I always found it funny to see all the flattering PR for his intellect.
When really he was about as deep as a puddle of piss.
I was boiling with rage and he didn’t give a fuck.
“Maybe my dick in your mouth will calm you down,” he smirked, pinching my chin with his hand.
“You’re a selfish asshole,” I said, shoving him away.
He only wiggled his tongue obscenely at me.
“I’ll be ready to talk when you’re less emotional.”
Without another word, I grabbed the bottle of wine from his fingers and dumped it in the sink. Then I went to my room and slammed the door behind me.