Chapter Seven
Seven
Nico
I woke up with a disgusting amount of sunlight blaring into my face and an even more disgusting taste coating my tongue. Surprisingly, my head and face only throbbed a little as I eased myself up on the surprisingly comfy couch and took in my surroundings.
Ah, right, I’d crashed at JJ’s place after she picked me up at the bar and saved me from a drunk and disorderly.
My gaze coasted over tastefully colorful throw pillows, pretty yellow curtains, candles of all shapes, sizes, and scents, and dozens of photos on the wall and every available surface. Clearly, JJ loved her people.
I could hear her down the hall, puttering around in her bedroom, so I got up and examined her wall of pictures. Her family—she obviously took after her mom, though there were no recent photos of her, so she was either out of the picture now or maybe deceased, hard to tell, and that made me inexplicably sad for her. There were also some pictures of her with a smoke show of a brunette friend, a few vacation shots, holiday pics, and...
“What do we have here?” I grinned to myself, leaning in to get a closer look at JJ in several photos all dolled up in different fancy dresses. I whistled between my teeth, wondering what I’d stumbled upon, when I found the last one with JJ in a pink sequined gown, diamond tiara on her blond head, tearful and grinning. “Well, I’ll be damned,” I murmured. Looked like the college girl was also Miss California Teen USA.
Someone cleared their throat loudly behind me. “Having fun snooping?”
I pivoted and took her in, dressed in a dove-gray pantsuit, her blond hair up in a bun. Very sexy librarian. “It’s not snooping if it’s out for everyone to see.”
She tilted up an eyebrow, making me remember how she looked at me last night when she’d called me out on my life choices. No way would I let on how that jab had hit home. Especially now, seeing how accomplished she was. “Fair enough. You want coffee or anything?”
“You have coffee? I thought you were a tea girl.”
Both brows rose in surprise that I’d actually remembered. “I keep it here for people who drink it.”
We studied each other for a beat, then I stepped away from her pictures and ran a hand through my tangled hair. “Coffee’d be great. Thanks.”
She nodded and headed toward her kitchen.
I followed and leaned against the counter as she started my coffee and pulled out some bagels. “So...” I waited until she looked at me with hesitant blue eyes. “Miss California Teen, huh?”
“If this is you making a pageant joke, don’t,” she warned.
“No jokes.” I held my hands up in surrender. “I think it’s cool.”
She shot me a look as if to gauge if I was being serious.
“I do,” I said. “I don’t know the first thing about all that, but I’m sure you had to work your ass off, am I right?”
Something like relieved gratitude drifted across her face and her pillowy lips tilted up a bit. “I did. But the scholarships helped pay for school, so...”
“Nice.”
She offered me a bagel. “I’ll take you back to pick up your car this morning.”
“Thanks.”
I sat and I got to work slathering cream cheese on my bagel.
“So, you gonna tell me why you got into it with that guy at the bar?”
My gaze shot up to her. “Wasn’t planning on it.”
She shook her head slightly. “You realize I could tell Lance and my dad that you violated your contract, and you’d be out of the band, right?”
Something heavy that tasted a lot like fear thunked in my gut and I dropped my bagel. “You gonna do that?”
She poured my coffee and slid me a mug. “Not sure.” Those baby blues slowly slid over the bruise on my swollen jaw, then up, lassoing something deep in my heart. “Did you have a good reason? For the fight at least?”
“The asshole had it coming.” I grabbed my coffee and took a sip of the scalding brew to keep from saying more. No way I wanted her to know my protective instincts had been riled when the nosy-ass reporter had started asking questions about her, insinuating she was sleeping with me like some sort of cheap groupie.
Hey, Santorini, who’s the hot blonde fans have snapped pics of you with recently? Your latest conquest? Another notch on the old drumstick?
I knew the schmuck and the trash he wrote. He’d published shit about me and my band before. Still, as much as I resented her being forced on me, he’d crossed a line, and I couldn’t let it slide.
JJ sat across from me, dunking a teabag in her steaming mug, her expression curious. “Had it coming how?”
“He just did.”
She opened her mouth to push the issue, but my cell phone rang, cutting her off.
Grateful, I yanked it out of my pocket and answered without checking the caller ID. “Yo.”
“What the fuck, man?” Sebastian demanded.
I sat back and raked a hand through my hair. Seriously, why did everyone have to bust my damn balls? “Bro, it was a misunderstanding.”
“What was a misunderstanding?” His tone changed immediately. “What are you talking about?”
He didn’t know about last night. I had to make a quick about-face. “Nothing, man. Never mind. What’s up?”
“Where are you?” Now he sounded downright suspicious.
“With my babysitter.”
JJ’s gaze narrowed on me, but I ignored her.
“Right... well, we were supposed to meet this morning to go over beats for the album. I’m here. You’re not. What the hell, dude?”
I groaned because he was right. I’d totally forgotten like a shitty friend and bandmate. “I’m sorry, bro. Let me get my ass in a shower, then I’ll be there in—” I glanced at JJ, who mouthed thirty minutes to me. “An hour.”
“Yeah, alright. Bring food.”
I agreed, then hung up, saying nothing more about JJ’s threats to snitch on me to Daddy Dearest. I scarfed down the rest of my bagel and coffee, then stood. “You care if I get a shower?”
“Help yourself,” she said. “There’re extra towels already in there.”
“Thanks.” I put my dishes in the sink, then headed down the hall to clean up.
The bathroom was pretty much like the rest of the house. Peaches and blues filled the space, a seashell shower curtain covered the pristine tub. It even smelled sunny in there.
I stripped out of my borrowed clothes and grabbed a shower, scrubbing myself with her citrus soap and shampoo. I climbed out and toweled off, only to realize I’d forgotten to grab my own clothes to change back into. I wrapped one of her fluffy blue towels around my hips and padded down the hall.
“Hey, you got my clothes around here somewhere?”
“Oh, yes—” She looked up at me from some paper she was reading and her mouth fell open, her gaze doing a quick up and down of my half-naked state. “Sorry.” She scrambled to stand and grab my jeans, shirt, and boots, and shove them at me, but I caught the sudden flare of pink in her cheeks and the way she avoided my eyes.
“JJ?” Baby blues flitted back up to mine, and for the first time in a long damn time, I wondered what a woman saw when they looked at me. Not that it mattered. “You good?”
Her gaze dipped to the multiple tattoos on my chest and my nipple ring, then back up to my face. “Fine. We need to go.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I spun, giving her an eyeful of my naked, tattooed back as I sauntered back to the bathroom to dress, not sure why I was screwing with her. Obviously, college girl wouldn’t touch a rocker like me in a million years. Still, maybe if I kept her off balance, she’d forget about talking to her dad and Lance about my run-in with the fuckface reporter.
I cleaned up the bathroom and reappeared a few minutes later, ready to roll. She also seemed more composed now that I had more clothes on as she led me outside.
“I’ll drop you off so you can pick up your car,” she said, “then my dad has asked if you can come for a meeting after lunch.” She flicked me a glance after we sat, and she started the engine. “I got a message from Dr. Evans. She’s got your treatment plan ready and would like to go over it with everyone.”
“Why not just send it to me?” I snapped. “It’s my damn treatment.” Though it was beginning to feel like a group project.
She backed up and started driving, shooting me a quick look. “I think we both know the answer to that.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“No, you’re right...” She nodded, her tone a bit mocking. “You’ve definitely proven that you’re taking this whole thing very seriously and we should definitely leave you to the most vital contingency in the whole contract on your own. Good plan. Not sure why I didn’t think of that. I’ll talk to my dad—”
“Ha ha, very funny, college girl. You made your point.”
“Did I? Because I’m not so sure. I did just have to bail you out of trouble last night—which could get my ass in a sling, I might add—and now you want me to just leave you to it? Yeah, I don’t think so, Santorini.”
I glared at her profile in the morning light, hating that I loved the way my last name sounded coming from her mouth. I also hated that she was kind of right. “Simmer down, pageant queen. I’ll be there.”
If looks could kill, I’d have been incinerated in my seat, but it was worth it to keep the edge in that conversation.
She dropped me off at my Vette without another word. I stared at her taillights as she sped away, wondering why I was so tied up in knots. What the hell was wrong with me? I thought seriously about getting a drink, but it was too early, so I got in my car and headed for the studio to pound it out on my drum kit instead.
I stared at the group of people around me, curious when they had lost their ever-lovin’ minds.
“No,” I said, my voice low and firm. “Abso-fucking-lutely not. I will quit first.”
Lance leaned forward, his expression pinched and a bit frightened. “You don’t mean that.”
“Oh, but I do. I am not going away to rehab for a month.” I raked an angry hand through my hair. “We already talked about this, guys, remember?” Seriously, was I in the twilight zone?
“Nobody is sending you to rehab,” David cut in, his tone unflappable.
“Pretty sure you just said a month away to... how’d you say it? Work on my drug and alcohol problem?” I used my tone to indicate air quotes around what they’d said. “Sounds like fucking rehab to me. Thanks, but no thanks.” I stood to leave. Surely a bar was open by now.
“Nico, quit being a baby and sit down. ” This from Prissy, and not in her sweet, granny, hipster tone. This was a no-nonsense, I’m gonna fuck you up vibe I had to respect, even from an old woman like her.
I lifted a brow her way to acknowledge that and slid back into my chair, giving her the floor.
She didn’t move a muscle, just sat there like a hippie queen, her eyes on me. Her subject. “You have a problem,” she intoned in front of everyone. “Likely you’re teetering on being an addict, but we haven’t had enough time together to get to the heart of the matter.” She held up a hand before I could protest. “And if you would like to remain as a part of the band, not to mention not blow up your life, you will be going away to work on this problem for the next month. With me. One-on-one. The intense therapy you need, not an inpatient rehab, though I’m not sure which you’d hate worse.”
“This is my only option?”
Her gray brow lifted. “It’s what you need, Nico. Take it or leave it, but even if you don’t know you’re drowning, I’m offering you a life preserver. I’d suggest you take it.”
Oh, I was well aware of the riptide I was drowning in. Had been for years now. I’d just gotten used to having no air and I wasn’t sure I was ready to breathe again.
I thought about saying fuck it. Getting up, walking out, and telling all of them to go screw themselves. But something held me back. Maybe it was the guys. I didn’t want to let my friends down and lose what I’d worked my ass off for with the band. If I did, I also had no idea how I’d make a living. I wasn’t good at anything besides music. I’d been working on a nice little nest egg for my mama whenever she decided to leave my douchebag of a dad. If I lost this gig, or gave it up, I wouldn’t have that to give her anymore.
There was also something buried deep inside of me that wondered if maybe Prissy could help me find myself again. The guy who used to be happy before booze and drugs and groupies. Was I too far gone? Was I destined to end up dead from an OD in some trashy hotel room, a sad byline in some rock star magazine one day? Probably. And that scared me more than anything.
“Fine,” I grumbled. “But I draw the line at crystals and essential oils and shit.”
Prissy nodded solemnly. “Duly noted.”
“Great,” Dave said, slapping his notebook closed. “I’ll have everything taken care of so you can leave tomorrow.”
“Leave?” I said.
Lance frowned. “Yeah, man. That’s what going away means. You can’t take care of this under the microscope here in LA. Dave is gonna set up a nice place in the mountains for you guys. Some fresh air and time away while you work together should be good, right?”
“Do the guys know about all this?”
“They will,” Lance said. “It’ll be fine.”
I nodded, not feeling fine at all.
As the meeting came to a close and everyone stood to go, Dave asked me and JJ to stay behind.
“See you tomorrow, Nico,” Prissy said on her way out, offering me a wave.
I nodded and turned back to Dave.
JJ, who’d been quiet this entire time, didn’t look at me, and I figured she was still feeling feisty after last night and this morning.
As her dad faced us, I wondered if she’d sold me out and told him what’d happened. “Have you two seen this morning’s entertainment headlines?”
I rolled my head to give her the evil eye, but she was pale. Clearly, she hadn’t said a word.
“No,” she said. “What do they say?”
I was used to being in the news, so I wasn’t ruffled. I sat back and shook my head. “Does it matter?”
“It does when they’re speculating you two are a couple.”
I sat up. “Say what?”
“More specifically, they’re wondering who the—and I quote—beautiful, busty blonde—is that has captured Nico Santorini’s interest.” He scrolled on his computer, reading the next article. “‘Has Nico Santorini finally settled down?’” More scrolling. “‘Zero Energy drummer spotted with blond beauty outside of hot LA nightspot.’” He faced us. “The articles go on and on about you two together. Is there anything I should know?”
“No!” we said at the same time. Shouted really.
“No,” JJ said, calmer this time. “They’re making something out of nothing. I was just...” She glanced my way. “Doing my job.”
Dave looked at me, then back to her. “Right.” He folded his hands on top of the table. “Well, here we are with tons of news stories right before Nico goes MIA for a month. I think we have no choice but to use this and spin it to our advantage.”
Her cheeks flushed like she knew what was coming but I was fucking lost. “Spin it how?” she said, her voice low and choked. “If you’re saying—”
“I’m saying,” he cut her off, “we let the story float. Give it a little life even. Let them think you’re Nico’s current lady friend...” His glare sliced my way when I huffed out a laugh. “What’s so funny? My daughter not good enough for you, Santorini?”
“No.” He glowered, and I sat up. “What’s funny is they’ll never buy it because I’m not good enough for her .”
The room became quiet at my unexpected honesty. Like mausoleum silent.
I glanced over to JJ, who was staring at me with a million questions in her eyes, none of which I could decipher.
“Be that as it may, they’re printing it, so they’re not worried about how good you are for her right now.” Dave sat back, his voice and posture suddenly a bit more docile, as if I’d hit a nerve. “So let them think what they want. Don’t confirm or deny. Let the story run its course.” He faced JJ. “And you’ll be going with them to Tennessee.”
That snapped her out of whatever funk my words had put her in. “What? Why?”
“It’s perfect,” Dave said. “Nico’s story for being gone the next month will be a romantic getaway. He gets his treatment, you can work remotely. The papers get their juicy story. You all come home in a month refreshed and ready to work. No harm, no foul.”
A month of seeing JJ every day? Her curves. Those amazing blue eyes. That quick wit I couldn’t help but spar with and buttons I couldn’t resist pushing. Yeah, what could go wrong?