6. Nash
6
NASH
H oly fuck do I have a killer hangover. My head feels like a million firecrackers are going off all at once and the lights in this goddamn room are too bright. If it wasn’t for Johnny waking me up at the ass crack of dawn with James on the phone, I would still be in bed, blissfully content and relaxed.
But no, I’m sitting at a large wooden table with too many chairs for the four of us, with a pair of piercing blue eyes glaring at me. The little devil and her agent are talking with James about the details of the award show tomorrow night. I don’t know why I needed to be included in this discussion when James knows all he needs to do is tell me to be somewhere and I’ll do it. The last thing I want to do is sit in a fucking meeting.
God, how many cigarettes and other shit did I consume last night? My nose and throat are on fucking fire.
“Nash.”
My head snaps to my right where James is sitting. He’s shooting me a pointed look, but he knows I haven’t listened to a goddamn word since I walked into this room. For all I know, they could be talking about aliens or what peanut butter is made from. Who fucking knows? I don’t, and I don’t care.
“James,” I say his name in the same tone he said mine. When I raise a brow at him, he sighs in defeat.
“If you had been listening, we were discussing the ground rules for the contract.”
I point to the little devil across the table from me. Her blonde hair is tied back in a high ponytail today, the strands falling over her shoulders in soft waves. She’s a beautiful girl, but too bad she has an attitude that I don’t want to fucking deal with.
“We already discussed the ground rules.”
“Okay, good.” James runs his hand over his beard, his jaw ticking with annoyance. “As stated in the contract you signed, you can’t be seen with… um… a woman that is not Miss May for the six-month duration. Understood?”
I roll my tongue over the tender spot on the right side of my bottom lip where the metal ring pierces the skin. It’s only a week old but fuck does it still hurt. I have no recollection of getting it done the night I saw Kinsley at Limelight . I must have been off my face when we passed a tattoo shop because I also have a tattoo of devil horns on the inside of my left wrist that I don’t remember getting.
It’s fucking sick, regardless.
I huff out a sharp breath. “Yep. Understood.”
The contract states I can’t be seen with a woman in public. It doesn’t state anything about having women at my house in private. As much as I would love to give a big fuck you to James and the label, I know if I were to bring women to my house in the evening, the paps would still find a way to snap a photo and blast it all over the front of every newspaper.
It’s something I’ve grown used to over the years since Dark Angel was formed.
It just doesn’t seem fair that I have to go six months without fucking all because the label wants me to clean up my image. It’s fucking bullshit, but there isn’t anything I can do about it. I’m helpless, and that’s the way the label likes it.
Thank God I got my fix last night. Multiple times.
“And the same goes for Miss May,” James continues. “You’re not allowed to be seen in public with a man who isn’t Mr. Beck.”
“That won’t be a problem,” the little devil responds calmly.
I want to snort at her response. With how uptight she is, I’m not sure any man would want to get anywhere near her. Which is a shame with a killer body like that and eyes that make you want to drop to your knees and beg for her touch like she’s a goddamn siren.
Maybe in another life.
“Okay, good,” Adam says, clapping his hands together. “Everything is in place for the award show tomorrow night. You will be walking the red carpet together, so make sure you act like you like each other.”
I catch Kinsley rolling those pretty blue eyes of hers with her arms folded over her chest, and I bite back a smile. I just know she wants nothing more than to punch me in the face because most people do when they meet me. It’s a hard habit to break.
But the idea of the little blondie attempting to land one on my cheek is more amusing than it should be.
“Do we have to kiss?” she asks, her voice tight as she looks between Adam and James.
James clears his throat and folds his hands together on the table in front of him. “It would be ideal, Miss May. If you don’t mind. I know it’s a lot to ask for the first appearance, but we want the illusion to be that you’re both smitten with each other.”
She chuckles an unamused laugh. “I’m an actress, but I’m not that good. Especially when he makes it harder by being seen with other women at bars the last few days. The paps aren’t stupid. They’re going to see right through the facade.”
I tug the tender lip ring between my teeth and shrug a shoulder. “Whoops. Guilty as charged.”
“We’ll make it work.” Adam turns to Kinsley, offering a reassuring smile. I fight the urge to roll my eyes at the way he’s looking at her. Like she’s a fucking meal. “All you have to do is smile for the cameras and act like you like each other. Okay? The paps don’t need to believe it, but the fans do. Besides, the next six months will be over sooner than you think.”
“Thank God,” I murmur under my breath before exhaling sharply. “Now if you don’t mind, I need to meet the guys for a recording session.”
Before I can stand, James’ hand shoots out to press against my chest, holding me in place. My eyes dart between his hand and face, my gaze murderous. Sensing his mistake, he drops his hand and clears his throat. “Sorry, Nash, but before you go, I think it would be wise for you and Miss May to… get to know each other a little better.”
I frown. “What? Why?”
“I was thinking the same thing.” Kinsley sits forward in her seat, her bright eyes flicking between me and my agent. She fiddles absentmindedly with the beaded bracelet on her wrist. “I don’t have time for this. I have a tight schedule I need to follow.”
I roll my eyes. Of course she fucking follows a tight schedule. I wouldn’t expect anything less from the goodie two shoes.
Adam turns to her and smiles apologetically. “James is right, Kin. It would be good for you and Mr. Beck to spend some time together to discuss and plan for the award show tomorrow night. Having some idea of how you plan to present yourselves as a couple to the public and tabloids isn’t a bad idea.”
The little devil huffs and folds her arms over her chest. “Adam…”
“Kin, please. We need to get this right, okay? This relationship is going to benefit you in the long run. This needs to work because I want to see It Girl shine.”
I watch the interaction between the two of them and exhale slowly. I’m fucking bored. And in desperate need of a cigarette. The tips of my fingers are tingling slightly, but that could be from the drugs I took last night. The aftereffects are a bitch to get over. Being in this room with these people is making me want a drink and to get the hell out of here.
“Can we wrap this up?” My tone is impatient and I’m so fucking close to walking out of this room whether James likes it or not. I don’t have time for this shit.
Adam and Kinsley turn to face me. She has a sour look on her pretty features as she gives me a once-over. The corner of her lip turns up in disgust and I can’t help but grin.
She hates me. I don’t need to hear her say the words because her ocean eyes say all I need to know.
“Fine,” she huffs, rolling her eyes. “Let’s get this over with so I don’t have to see you for the rest of the day.”
“The feeling is mutual,” I grunt, leaning back in the uncomfortable ass chair.
While I enjoy the little devil's dislike toward me and riling her up, her attitude is annoying as fuck.
“I’ll be back in ten minutes to collect you,” James whispers as he stands from his seat.
I’m not a goddamn child , I want to say, but the words die on my tongue when he walks away before I can get them out.
Adam whispers something in little blondie’s ear too, likely with the same promise of returning shortly.
Thank fuck.
The two of us sit quietly as our agents leave the room, closing the door softly behind them. My eyes drift toward the off-white walls, reminding me of the walls of my childhood bedroom. Except these walls are bare of any posters and lack cracks in the roof that only come with age.
You’re a loser, Nash.
You’ll never be successful.
My nails dig painfully into my palm as I shift in the chair. Now is not the time for my demons to rear their heads. In fact, I wish they would fuck off altogether, but that’s just wishful thinking.
As silence settles in the room, I regard the woman sitting across from me. Taking in her smooth features, soft, bouncy hair, and eyes that could kill with one look. I’m sure if she wanted me six feet under, all she would have to use is those damn eyes as a weapon.
“So,” she starts slowly, breaking the tension in the air. “I guess Adam was right. It might be a good idea to have a game plan for tomorrow.”
I shrug and reach into my pocket to grab a fresh cigarette. Her eyes are on me as I bring it to my lips and light the end with my black lighter. Inhaling a deep breath, I lean back in my seat. “A game plan? Seriously? All we need to do is turn up, hold hands, and kiss for the camera. That’s it.”
The little devil’s eyes are focused on the cherry between my fingers, and she frowns. “You know those are cancer sticks, right?”
I shrug. “Sure.”
“And you don’t care that it might one day kill you?”
“I hope it does.”
She frowns and tilts her head to the side, contemplating my words. She can think whatever she wants about me, but what I do or ingest in my spare time has nothing to do with her or the contract we signed.
The little devil can’t change me. You can’t fix a broken record.
She sighs and shakes her head. “Nash, we can’t fuck around like this. We need to make this convincing.”
“And we will,” I say, growing tired of this conversation already. “We have six months to convince the world of our relationship. Besides, most women love me, so it won’t take long for you to fall in love with me.” I tug the lip ring between my teeth, biting back a smirk.
She scoffs and rolls her eyes. “You’re an asshole. Has anyone ever told you that?”
Taking a drag from the cherry, I shrug nonchalantly. Smoke billows out from my nostrils. “You’re the only one I like to hear say it.” I stand from the chair, itching to leave. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere I need to be.”
“You’re so infuriating,” she murmurs as she stands to her feet, her eyes boring into mine from across the room. “Fine. It seems our plan is to hold hands and kiss for the camera like you suggested because you can’t be fucked to take this seriously. But outside of that, if you touch me, I will have no problem punching you in the face.”
I roll my tongue against the inside of my cheek, fighting a smile. “Oh, little devil. Hasn’t anyone told you I like it rough? Don’t tempt me with a good time.”
Kinsley groans and marches toward the closed door without saying another word. I watch the back of her head walk down the corridor until she disappears out of sight. I close my eyes and roll my neck from side to side to relieve the tension building in the muscles.
This is going to be a long fucking six months.
Buzzing greets my ears the moment I walk through the front door of my house. A frown creases my forehead as I drop my car keys on the table by the door and walk further into the foyer. When I reach the living room, the buzzing increases. That’s when I see Hudson lying on his back on the couch with his left arm stretched out over the coffee table. He has no shirt on, which isn’t unusual for him. A woman with dyed blue hair and a nose ring sits on the ground, her dark eyes focused on where the tattoo gun in her hand is going, the needle digging into Hudson’s forearm.
“Fuck, Iris, why you gotta go so damn deep for?” Hudson curses, his face twisted in pain.
Iris, I’m assuming, rolls her eyes and continues to drag the needle through Hudson’s flesh, not changing her grip on the gun after his complaint. “Why do you gotta be a baby for? You asked me to tattoo over the scars there.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t think it would hurt this much,” he whines, his eyes focused on his forearm.
I want to laugh at the fact that he’s whining like a baby—nothing new for him—and the fact that nothing my bandmates seem to do will ever surprise me. Walking in on one of them getting a home job tattoo is far from the worst thing I’ve seen in my house.
“Well, maybe you should’ve cut deeper then,” Iris sasses, and that’s all it takes for me to burst out laughing.
Hudson’s eyes snap to where I stand in the doorway, clutching at my stomach as laughter rips through my chest. I’m struggling to breathe when he rolls his eyes and flips me the bird.
“How long have you been standing there?” he asks, his eyes meeting mine.
“Long enough to hear the pretty blue-haired girl fucking destroy you with that line,” I answer once the laughter has died down and I can breathe again.
Jesus Christ, I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time.
Iris laughs and wipes a paper towel over the black line she drew in Hudson’s skin. “What can I say? You’re just too easy, Hud.” Her legs are crossed under her and she’s in nothing but black lingerie. It wouldn’t surprise me if Hudson asked her to tattoo him wearing that because he’s into some weird stuff. Which seems to include being drilled with a needle by a woman wearing lingerie.
Hudson rolls his eyes dramatically and shifts on the couch. “Anyway, how did the meeting with the little blondie go?”
I shrug, remembering the little devil’s advice on not smoking and the fact that we have to announce our relationship to the world tomorrow at the music award show. It’s bad enough I have to go to those stupid shows as it is, so it’s going to be torture having to go with a blonde pocket rocket who is as stubborn as a goddamn rock.
But I don’t tell Hudson any of this.
“It was fine. The fake relationship officially starts tomorrow, so in the eyes of the public, I’ll be a taken man.”
That thought alone is foreign to me.
Hudson hisses as Iris draws another line over the scars on his forearm, courtesy of a few rough years after his parents got divorced when he was fourteen and his father left without telling him goodbye. It tore him into pieces.
I remember the nearly below freezing night he ran three blocks to my house, blood dripping down his arm, and his white T-shirt soaked through with splashes of crimson. His cries for help were blocked by the rough winds lashing at his tear-stained cheeks. He was content on letting himself bleed out in the bathroom after cutting into his skin with a kitchen knife, but once he saw all the blood, he had a change of heart. His mom was at work that night, so he chose to see me in the hopes I would help him. He was scared.
After that, I told him he couldn’t do it anymore because one day we were going to get out of the shithole town we lived in and make something of ourselves.
“I don’t know how you do it, man,” he says, biting his bottom lip. “How are you going to go six months without any pussy? I doubt Blondie is going to give you any.”
I plop down on the other side of the couch and roll my eyes. With the number of people coming in and out of my house, I had to make sure I bought the largest couch the store offered. Thankfully, I fit comfortably on here with Hudson lying down—all six feet of him.
“You don’t need to worry about me,” I tell him cryptically. Hudson doesn’t need to worry about my sex life and what I plan to do during the duration of the contract.
Truthfully, I haven’t given it much thought yet. I’m sure I’ll think of something that doesn’t fuck up the deal I made with the little devil. But I know I won’t be able to last long when I’m used to having someone in my bed every night.
“Well, if it’s your last night as a free man, you may as well go out with a bang.” He wiggles his brows suggestively at me. “I know just who to call.”
“You don’t need to?—”
But Hudson is already on the phone, his free hand holding the chunk of thick plastic against his ear, the person he called already on the line. Iris pays us no mind as she continues to tattoo over Hudson’s scars. From this angle, it looks like a detailed dagger that starts at his wrist and ends at the juncture of his elbow.
“That’s a neat design,” I tell her because it really is fucking sick, especially for a home job. “You’re surprisingly good at this.”
Her soft brown eyes meet mine and she smiles. “Thanks. If you ever want something just let me know.”
Hudson drops his phone onto his chest and meets my gaze. “Okay, you’re all set.”
I raise a brow at him. “What do you mean?”
“I have three women on their way right now to spend one mind-blowing night with Nash Beck before he is officially off the market for six months.”
My instinct is to tell him he’s insane and that I’m not interested, but how can I possibly deny spending the night with three women? The thought alone has my cock thickening and my heart racing with excitement. If I’m going to have to go cold turkey from sex for six months, then Hudson is right—I should go out with a bang.
“This is why you’re my best friend,” I say with a grin as I stand from the couch. I need a shower since I’m likely going to spend most of the night a sweaty mess. A happy sweaty mess.
Hudson grins as Iris continues to tattoo his skin. “You’re damn fucking right. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”