22. Riot
Riot
The guys are up when I get back to the suite after a session in the gym. We drink hard, we play hard, and we perform hard, which means it’s imperative that we keep in peak physical condition.
And I woke up early, so I hit the pool, then the treadmill for a run, followed by an hour of weights in an effort to burn through the energy that had me wanting to wake Kelsey up with my cock in her mouth.
After that stunt she pulled with Kodiak...
I rub a fist over the burning sensation in my chest. She’s trying to get under my skin and it’s fucking working. I wanted to take her mouth with mine. Own it. Make her needy with a simple kiss and a few well-chosen words. Make sure Kodiak understood that she could never be his.
Not when she was mine.
But then we’d got into that screaming match. It always comes back to the same things. She didn’t trust me then.
Well, I don’t trust her now. That makes us even.
“Bro.” Bronx looks up from the game he’s playing on his phone while Golden peruses the room service menu. Kodiak acknowledges me but doesn’t say anything. I don’t want to hear a word that fucker might want to say anyway.
Kelsey is absent. Possibly still tucked up in bed. Or avoiding me like she has been since our fight. I glare at her closed door. The urge to march in there and put her over my knee, pull down her panties, and spank her ass is almost impossible to ignore. “Did Rook bring my shit up?”
“He brought in a box,” he says without looking up.
“Great.” That will be Kelsey’s box. I asked him to retrieve it as well as my weed. For the last couple days, I’ve been desperate to get a look at the contents. If I’m going to take things further with the Little Vandal, I want information I can use against her. I finally have that chance.
“We’re leaving in about forty,” Bronx warns me.
“Got it.” I need a shower before we hit the promo circuit.
The box is on my bed when I enter the room. On top is a bag with a couple of joints in it. I ignore the itch to go through the contents instead of showering. I’ve waited days to have a private moment to go through her secrets. I can wait a little while longer.
Once I’ve showered and dressed, time runs out for Kelsey. I pocket the joints. I’ll find a quiet spot and smoke one later.
Moment of truth.
Removing the box’s lid, I set it aside. Her vibrator still sits on top of my origami letters to her. Placing the vibrator aside, I scoop them up and into the backpack I carry my notebooks, extra picks, and other things I might need anywhere we go.
She used to keep a notebook too. A journal that she would write in while I was writing songs. She was always secretive about what she was putting in there. Sometimes she would blush and catch the giggles.
I don’t want to reminisce about the ways I found her cute and sexy. Or the way that used to make me smile. Those days are far in the rearview. I want anything I can use against her. I want her written confession and her reason for stealing from me.
Picking up the box, I upend the contents onto the comforter. I sift through the photos, concert ticket stubs, and set lists.
She kept the napkin with oowee chula chula written on it.
I chuckle. That was an epic night. A nonsensical night that no one has been able to find a way to articulate. And yet, we still can’t help but smile when thinking about it.
Dropping the napkin back in the pile, I move onto the next item.
A pregnancy test? I pick up the sandwich bag with the pregnancy test inside it and hold it at eye level.
The little window says ‘pregnant’.
Pregnant?
At some point after we broke up Kelsey was pregnant. Keeping this... Did she fall in love after us? Did she move on? How long did it take for her to fall for someone else? Get pregnant? Have a baby? No time at all?
I sink onto the bed. I could barely function—could barely get through the day—because I missed the woman who was both my best friend and my whole fucking heart.
Because under any other circumstance she was the one I would have gone to, and now I couldn’t.
And she moved on like we were nothing. Fucking nothing.
I scan that little window again in case I’m losing my mind. But it reads the same as it read before. Kelsey got pregnant.
What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?
There’s a heavy rap on the door and Bronx’s voice comes through the panel. “Riot. We gotta go. We have the radio station promo and then the photoshoot this afternoon.”
“Uh. Yeah.”
“Dude, are you okay?”
Fuck no. “Let me get my shit. I’ll be out in a minute.”
With one arm, I scoop everything back into the box, which is when I notice the journal I was hoping to find. It has a hard black cover with a duo of cherries on the front. They’re a different texture from the cover, soft and like the skin on a cherry when I brush my fingers over them.
I lift my fingers to my nose. Cherry, like the perfume she used to wear.
My favorite scent. The one that would have my mouth watering when layered with her arousal.
When things were simple and we were going to be forever.
When I believed we would always be able to salvage our friendship.
It tugs at something in my chest that feels a lot like the mess I was when she went away.
I cannot be that person again.
“Get the fuck out here,” Bronx shouts through the door again. “We’re leaving.”
“Fuck off. I’m coming.”
“Why is it one minute with him always ends up with us being a whole hour late?” Bronx asks whoever is in the room with him.
Jackass.
I toss the journal in my bag with my notepad and catch up with them at the elevator.
Kelsey stands between Bronx and Kodiak. She tugs at the bottom of the fluffy fishbone looking braid she wears over the one bare shoulder peeking out from the customized neck of a cropped L.A.
Riot T-shirt while she studies the steel wall.
She’d rather look at that than me.
Which is fine with me. I turn my back to her when a notification on my phone grabs my attention. Bad idea. She’s already stabbed me in it once before. Best to keep her where I can see her. I read the text. “Industry party tonight.”
Bronx groans.
“It’s mandatory.” I’m with them on not liking it, but we don’t have a fucking choice.
Kelsey says nothing. She never fucking says anything. Not really. She sure as shit hasn’t told me what she’s doing here.
You didn’t ask.
No, I didn’t and that suited me fine. Writing the songs our fans want to hear is what matters. But she will talk. Soon. When I’ve found out everything she’d hidden inside the pages of her journal.
Does she have a kid out there somewhere? Is it with its father? Is that who she meant when she said it was someone other than me that she feared? Who did she get mixed up with?
We meet Rook at the car. He’s taking over from Jasper so the man can visit with his sister while we’re in town.
Kelsey sticks with Kodiak and Bronx, climbing in between them in the car. Rook gets in up front. I take the back seat with Golden and we’re on our way.
He has his headphones on by the time we’re out of the parking garage. He likes to shut out the world so he can get in the zone. Unlike Bronx and Kodiak who are joking around and flirting with Kelsey.
“Our girl looks stunning today,” Bronx says.
Our girl. She used to be. Then she was mine. Whose girl is she now?
Sliding Kelsey’s journal inside my notebook, I take it out of my backpack and open it to a random page. It’s not dated, but that doesn’t matter. Once I work out the timeline, I’ll be able to find the information I’m after.