Chapter 4
Derek
I want to break the motherfucker’s hand as it slips across Allegra’s waist.
“You ready to head out?” he asks her quietly. He disregards me completely and my anger ricochets through my limbs like the ball in a pinball game.
Allegra looks up at him, her blonde tresses brushing across his chin. Their interaction is intimate, their familiarity comfortable.
I grip my tumbler tighter, wishing the glass would shatter in my palm. Wanting something to ruin this moment where my girl—the one that I can’t get over—grins up at another like he hung the fucking moon and strung the stars.
Stellina. She’s my star.
“Sure,” she replies, wriggling her fingers at him from beneath her chin and giving him an almost-secret smile.
He taps her hip once with his hand. “I’ll go say bye to my boys.”
“Meet you at the entrance,” she agrees.
The dude lopes off. I glare at his retreating back and it pains me that I see it. Her attraction to him. He looks like a good guy. He’s not clean-cut or wearing a letterman jacket or anything, but he doesn’t radiate emotionally unavailable either.
Allegra turns her attention back to me. A streak of sadness blurs her expression for an instant before she blocks it. Blinks it away and resumes her glare of scorn. “Good luck with everything, Reign.”
“Stop calling me that,” I snap. Why won’t she say Derek?
She smirks, the corners of her mouth pinching. “What do you want me to call you? I’m just another girl who fell for your tortured eyes and raspy voice only to be left the morning after.” She shrugs. “I’m no one to you.”
“Allegra, fuck. Come on, that’s not true,” I growl, leaning closer as if to cower her into acceptance. Into submission.
She chuckles, the sound hard. “Yeah, it is. At least now, I know it.” She lifts her chin at me, her eyes flashing. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”
She moves to slip around me, but I grasp her bicep, squeeze enough to make her halt.
She turns her head slowly, her eyes glinting with amusement, her eyebrow arching in a challenge.
What the fuck? Where is the woman who would’ve lashed out at me by now? The one who would’ve given me a clue on her feelings? Hell, she used to weave them through her expressions.
This version of Allegra gives away nothing but thinly veiled bitterness and an attitude I can’t get enough of.
“What are you going to do? Now?” I ask. Is she happy back in LA? Is she taking classes? Does she need any support with what’s happening with Levi?
The questions hover on the tip of my tongue, but I don’t know how to voice them. I don’t know how to be the guy she needs in this moment because I don’t know what the hell she needs.
There aren’t tears or helplessness. There’s no hurt in her expression or longing in her eyes.
My girl is locked up tighter than Simon’s prison cell.
She cocks her head. “I’m gonna go home and let Ethan fuck me,” she replies, her tone devoid of malice. In fact, it’s empty of nearly all emotion. She’s stating a fact. “Hard.”
Allegra pulls her arm from my grasp and moves toward the entrance.
I slap the top of the bar. The sting traveling up my arm does nothing to quench my fury. I need to destroy something tangible, like fucking Ethan, in order to cool this horror.
My chest burns. The feelings, emotions, that stick to my ribs like plaque clench, tight enough to make my stomach roil. I drag my fingers through my hair, tugging to erase the vivid images that now flicker through my mind.
Ethan kissing Allegra. His hands caressing her body. His fingers dipping into her secret places.
Places meant for me. My hands, my eyes, my mouth.
“Fuck,” I swear, swinging back to the bartender.
Smart man already filled another tumbler and added a shot of tequila. I down it instantly.
“How’s it going, man?” Mav approaches hesitantly.
I whip my head to glare at him. “What the fuck were you thinking? Why the hell did you invite her here?”
“I’m worried about her,” Mav states. His elbow bumps mine and he jerks his head to indicate we should both face forward, stare at the bar.
Bartender deserves a fucking raise because he steps to the other side and begins to clean spotless glasses.
“What are you talking about?” I snap.
“She’s off, man. Something…something’s off.”
“She’s completely different,” I agree. I fucking broke her. Destroyed her innocence, stomped on her vulnerability, abandoned her.
The truth settles in my stomach, layering like sediments until it reaches the base of my throat and I want to vomit it up. Expel it all so I don’t have to live with it. With the regrets and the goddamn knowing.
I devastated Allegra. I started to snuff my Stellina out.
“I’m worried about her,” Mav repeats.
I glance at my bandmate, and note the tightness of his expression, the shadows that pass through his gaze. When I don’t respond, he continues. “I kept in touch with her.”
“What?” I ask. They’ve been talking this whole time? And Mav never let on how she was doing? Never said she was okay, back in LA.
“She’s my friend, Derek.” He glares at me. “And I knew she had a tough time with Buck’s passing, but I also know what I saw that night. She—fuck, man—she cared for you. A lot. And you stepped aside for the sake of the band, and I know that was hard.”
Fuck him for speaking of me and Allegra in the past.
“It was hard for you,” he continues. “And it had to be hard for her. She’s not okay, man.”
I tap the bar with two fingers. The bartender’s eyes jump to mine.
“Tequila,” I say.
He nods and pours two shots.
“You think she’s spiraling?” I wonder, considering her appearance, her interaction with Ethan. She was nothing like the woman who knocked on the door of our brownstone at the start of summer.
“I think she’s struggling,” Mav amends. “Thanks, mate.” He tells the bartender before downing the shot. Smacking his lips together, he turns to me. “I’m gonna stay in LA for a bit. Jameson’s back in Boston with Amelia, band stuff is up in the air while Levi recovers…”
“No Costa Rica?” I taunt, knowing it’s Mav’s favorite place to disappear.
“Not yet,” he replies. “I won’t let Allegra down the way I did Levi.”
Shit. “That’s not your fault, man,” I tell him the truth, but I feel his guilt. The same remorse swims in my veins.
We were too busy getting caught up in the fame vortex, getting lost in the music, getting fucked up in the vibe, that we turned a blind eye to Levi’s struggles.
And now, our rhythm guitarist is detoxing in rehab.
Not just for alcohol, the way the media believes, but for drugs. For sex. For straight-up addiction.
“I’m sticking around,” Mav repeats, resolve heavy in his tone.
“You do you.” I take my shot.
Mav smacks the bar top lightly. “I’m out. Gonna meet up with some friends. See you back at the condo?”
“Sure,” I agree.
I hang at the bar for another beat. Polish off my tumbler. Then, I turn and locate Johan.
With Mav’s words echoing in my mind and Allegra’s scorn souring my stomach, I flip my chin at my business partner.
“Having fun, Reign?” Johan grins.
“I wanted to run something by you,” I say.
“Sure.”
“Been doing some thinking.” I tilt my head toward the bar I’ve been posted up beside for the better part of the past hour.
“Ah, the blonde vixen caught your eye?”
I narrow my gaze at Johan and his grin widens.
“We have history,” I admit, not divulging details.
His grin slips and understanding colors his expression. “Ah.”
“I’d like to stay in LA longer than I planned.”
“It will be great to have your help in expanding our label,” he replies, giving me the out I’m searching for. Offering me a real reason, an excuse, in a heartbeat.
“That would be great. Thanks, Johan.”
Johan smacks a hand on my shoulder. “Of course. We’re partners, Derek.”
“Right,” I agree.
Johan turns back toward the conversation he excused himself from. I spend the remainder of the evening promoting the brand, discussing the label, and posing for selfies.
But Johan’s words stick with me.
Partners.
Save for the band, I’ve been on my own for a long time. I don’t have family or partnerships or many friends.
I have my bandmates and Dre. Full stop.
Then, my lawyer Aiden, my manager Jess, and my publicist Kimberly.
And now, maybe Johan.
The realization eases some of the pressure in my chest. I can stay in LA. I can show up for Allegra.
Because the blonde vixen has caught more than my eye.
She’s demanded my full attention, and this time, I’m not going anywhere.
I’ll prove I’m the man who should be in her bed, and in her heart.
Not fucking Ethan.