Chapter 4
Kingsley
Ineed to fix this right now, I thought the next day as we were hanging out in the green room before my concert. Cornelius and Matt were arguing back and forth about something, but I was sitting in the hair and makeup chair staring at Rosalie, my leg twitching up and down.
She was wearing jeans and a black leather jacket over some tiny tank top, her booted feet up, ignoring me and the guys’ attempts to get her to help them.
Every time she moved, the leather jacket popped open a little bit more, and I got an eyeful of Rosalie’s round, prime tits with no bra on, her nipples visible in the thin fabric, rubbing against the leather of her jacket.
Fuck
Drool pooled in my mouth as I surreptitiously wiped it off my chin.
Wait, was the problem that Rosalie thought going public with Dolly meant I somehow liked Dolly? Or that I preferred Dolly to her?
She could not possibly be fucking serious.
“Want to do an interview about what you and Dolly do on tour to still keep that new love spark going?” Eunice chirped, interrupting my naked lust for Rosalie.
My fists clenched in my lap. Eunice was supposed to be along for the whole tour, chronicling the great fucking imaginary fucking love story of Dolly and I, while Cornelius videotaped cute little moments for Tiktok.
But that was the last damn thing on my mind.
“No,” I said shortly. “Not right now. Treat yourself to some food from the craft table.”
After she left there was a moment of silence. Rosalie hadn’t even looked up during the entire exchange.
“Still pissed at me?”
She ignored me.
“Rosalie, you have any ideas?” Cornelius broke in.
Although Cornelius was my manager, in practice Rosalie was the one who made big shows like this run smoothly. It wasn’t surprising he was asking her opinion.
“Nope, I told you I quit,” she said serenely. “I’m just here for the free food. You can solve your own problems.”
“What’s the problem now?” I asked.
Rosalie still ignored me, her eyes glued to her phone.
Why wouldn’t she even look at me?
I felt another prickle of irritation mixed with the strange metallic tinge of desperation, so I dragged my chair closer, then stretched my leg over, making sure my knee now rested right between her legs.
That would remind her of the times she’d ridden my thigh, gotten me all sticky and wet because she always came so easily. Rosalie was such a little freak and that always turned her on.
“Your opening act just canceled,” Matt said. “We’re trying to find a local replacement on short notice.”
“Too far away,” Cornelius said, cross-referencing his phone and a physical list. “This one might work but can’t make it here in time.”
“What about her?” Matt asked, pointing to a name. “She’s pretty popular. And local. Rosalie, you want to look at this list?”
“Nope,” she said dismissively. “Kingsley Ames is your problem now.”
Batting my hair stylist away, I got up and grabbed a cup of coffee as an excuse to walk behind Rosalie and run a finger up her throat.
“I’ll always be your problem,” I hissed in her ear. “And you know you wouldn’t want it any other way.”
I pulled Rosalie’s hair tie out so her thick long black hair fell all down her back.
It was something that never failed to raise goosebumps on her skin but this time she didn’t even seem to notice.
“Mr. Ames, if you please?” the hairstylist asked, and I returned reluctantly to the chair.
“What are you doing on your phone?” I asked, trying to keep a weird jealous note out of my voice.
It was just that I was used to having Rosalie’s full attention.
I craned my head over and looked at her messages, only to see her about to reply to some jackass on Instagram saying, “you’re so beautiful.”
Lurching from my chair, I tried to grab the phone from her hands.
“Give me that. Don’t be replying to all these chuds just trying to get into your pants with a line like that.”
“Who says they just want to get in my pants?” she retorted, her full lips turned down in a frown. “Maybe they want a relationship.”
“I know they don’t.”
“You don’t know shit, Kingsley. There’s plenty of guys who want a relationship with me.”
“That’s not what I goddamn meant—" I said, reaching for the phone again.
Rosalie pulled it back and put her foot forward between my legs, pressing the toe of her boots against my balls.
“Don’t fuck with me Kings,” she said, in a voice so cold that the room fell silent and I felt my skin prickle with heated arousal.
Oooh, I needed to fuck that bratty tone out of her voice.
Despite the fact that she could crush my balls with one wrong motion, I felt my cock thickening in my pants, sweat begin to drip down my back and soak my shirt.
God, I needed her right now.
“How long are you in hair and makeup?” Dolly asked innocently, trying to defuse the tension hanging thick and humid between us.
Every particle of air seemed charged in the space between Rosalie and I, her disdain heating my skin, waking up every inch of me.
“You think that dirtbag look comes natural?” she said without looking at me. “Takes a long time to make him look that disheveled.”
If things went on like this, I was going to be forced to tell Rosalie the truth. That I didn’t have the slightest bit of interest in boring ass Dolly and had only fucked her two very dull times.
Dolly was boring. When you pulled her hair she just went “eek,” instead of pulling mine right back.
Rosalie was being such a huge brat that I didn’t want to reward her.
But, on the other hand, I felt jittery and fucked-up.
It wasn’t just the fact that Rosalie had never refused to have sex with me. It was that she was refusing to even talk to me.
I didn’t like that.
I needed her, goddamn it.
Unease spiraled through me.
Dolly was flitting about and getting in my way, but I was feeling desperate for anything to get Rosalie to pay attention to me.
This had to be about Dolly. Had to be. If I could get Rosalie pissed-off enough at me, she’d blow up and we could hate-fuck our way to our old relationship.
It was ideal. Best friends who fucked constantly.
So I grabbed Dolly’s hand and pulled her into my lap.
Fail.
Rosalie only began riffing back and forth with Matt about football, which I knew for damn sure she did not give a fuck about. It was only to piss me off.
Then it was almost time to go on.
“Finally!” Cornelius cried as the door opened. “Thank you so much for coming on such short notice. We really appreciate you opening for Kingsley.”
And I turned around and it was that fucking nuts bunny boiler I’d had sex with. Four? Six months ago? What was her name? Maud? Maeve? Mavis?
Her blonde hair was teased a foot high on either side of her face, the harsh makeup and heavy lipstick doing nothing to hide the deranged expression on her face.
“You probably know everyone! Of course, Kingsley, Rosalie, Matt, Mick, Rick, Constantine. And this is Kingsley’s girlfriend, Dolly,” my moron manager finished.
And because Dolly had no sense of self-preservation, she advanced on Maeve with a big smile on her face and her hand out.
“You bitch!” Maeve shrieked, grabbing a coffee cup from the service table and smashing it on the wall. “Kingsley is mine!”
Then she advanced on Dolly with the jagged handle and Dolly immediately froze in place, clasping her hand together like a stupid scared rabbit.
I jerked up from my chair but Rosalie was already moving, pulling off her leather jacket in a flash and throwing it over Maeve’s head.
“Hello again, psychopath,” she said in a weary voice.
Maeve made a noise like a fucking steam boiler, whistling and raging, but Rosalie had her wrapped up in a neat little package so she couldn’t escape.
Matt darted forward to tie the sleeves around her and Dolly began to scream.
“Shut up!” I snarled, pounding on the door for my security team, and then picking up Maeve by the coat and depositing her outside the door.
“Reconsider your life choices!” Rosalie called out helpfully as Roberto and Jacob hauled her off. “He’s not worth it, I promise you.”
I wanted to address this, but I was too fucking furious at the rest of them.
“You dumbasses!” I shouted at Cornelius and Matt, panic making my voice harsh. “Why would you ask that crazy bitch to open for me? Rosalie could have gotten hurt!”
Matt looked like he’d been punched in the face.
“Kings—damn, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Rosalie.”
“It’s not your fault,” Rosalie said, finally looking at me, but it was to glare reproachfully as she put her arm around Matt.
“It’s on him to inform everyone on the team when he’s fucked too many of the local artists. Not your fault.”
“But—she had that broken glass—she could have—”
I was almost inarticulate with fury at what crazy-ass Maeve could have done.
What if she’d turned that jagged weapon on Rosalie? What if she’d tried to stab her?
Rosalie snorted. “I’ve dealt with your fuck-ups plenty of times. Nothing scary about it.”
“You were so brave,” Dolly piped up, looking adoringly at Rosalie.
She was trembling all over and Rosalie patted her too.
“Come on, let’s get you a hot toddy for your nerves.”
“I don’t drink,” Dolly said in a small voice. “My parents always said it would affect my harp-players fingers.”
“All right, a hot chocolate then,” Rosalie laughed.
“How nice,” Eunice the reporter said dubiously. “Your girlfriend and your best friend get along. That’s really refreshing. A lot of times there’s jealousy in these situations.”
“Oh no,” Rosalie said, and there was something in her sharp little smile that made me shiver. “No jealousy at all.”
She guided Dolly out the door.
“And what about you?” I growled at my manager. “Why didn’t you just ask Rosalie? She knows who to avoid.”
“I did!” Cornelius cried. “She said she wasn’t involved anymore. Wasn’t doing shit for you.”
He and Matt both turned and stared at me as my insides curdled at the idea of her being done with me.
“Rosalie basically runs this whole production,” Matt said in astonishment. “What did you do?”
“I’m fixing it, I’m fixing it,” I said, trying to stuff down cold shards of panic trickling down my spine. “She’ll be back. I promise.”
But I wasn’t sure. Suddenly I wasn’t sure of anything anymore. . .