8. Kinsley
8
KINSLEY
T he kiss only lasts a couple of seconds but it’s enough for my heart to calm down and the fog in my mind to clear. Nash’s lips are softer than I imagined, and being this close to him allows me to fully inhale his woodsy cologne and the taste of whiskey on his tongue.
My eyes snap open as the realization of the situation settles in. I tear my lips away from his and shove at his shoulders with my hands. My heart is beating for an entirely different reason now.
“What the hell!” I shout as our eyes connect from across the back seat. My fist rears back, ready to make promise on the threat of punching him if he touched me aside from kissing for the cameras. “Why did you just kiss me?”
“Because you wouldn’t shut the fuck up,” Nash grunts. He doesn’t seem fazed by the fact he just kissed me unprovoked and certainly not part of the plan we briefly discussed yesterday. “You were having a panic attack.”
“A panic attack—” I inhale a sharp breath and drop my hand into my lap. He’s right. I was having a panic attack and didn’t realize it. I haven’t had a panic attack since I was seventeen and even then, I don’t remember the experience, my brain having blocked out that memory. “H-how did you…”
Nash’s mismatched eyes meet mine and he drags his lip ring between his teeth as if contemplating his next words. “Because I get them too, little devil.”
My mouth opens to respond but no words fall past my lips. Just a puff of air.
Nash Beck has panic attacks? Who would have thought?
“Nash, Miss May,” James says from the front seat. He turns around to look over his shoulder at us. “We need to get out now.”
Shit. James and the driver heard every second of that interaction. My cheeks flame at the realization and I turn to look out the window at the horde of paparazzi with their cameras trained on the car, waiting for us. They have no idea I’m in the car with Nash. They’re going to be in for a surprise when I step out.
“James, hit me,” Nash says.
I frown as I watch James pass an unopened bottle of Jack Daniels to Nash. He quickly screws off the cap and begins chugging straight from the lip of the glass bottle. My eyes widen in surprise as I watch him drink the amber liquid like it’s water.
Nash pulls the bottle away, a quarter of the liquid gone, and exhales sharply. “ Fuck . Okay. Let’s do this.”
I’m too stunned to speak. Between Nash hitting me with a surprise kiss and watching him drink Jack Daniels like it’s going out of fashion, I’m unable to form a single word.
Nash inhales a deep breath and flings the car door open. Moments later, the shuttering of photos being taken is almost deafening as Nash walks around the car to my door.
I close my eyes and ready myself for what is about to happen. Although I had a major freak-out moments ago, I know deep down I can do this. Despite my inner demons trying to convince me otherwise. They almost won for a second there, but I won’t let them consume me.
You’re an actress, Kin. Just pretend this is another movie and you’re playing the role of yourself .
The door swings open and I’m instantly met with loud gasps of surprise. Then, the shutter sounds grow louder as photo after photo is snapped of Nash helping me out of the back seat. His hand goes around my waist, holding me close to his side as we step onto the red carpet. My fake smile is set in place as we make our way down the carpet. We stop every few steps to smile for a photo before we move on to the next.
James made sure to reach out to each media team attending the award show to say that Nash won’t be doing any interviews. They had no idea it would be because Nash would be with his new girlfriend. Adam said this is because we need to be seen as a couple first before we start making statements to the media.
I’m grateful for this decision because I don’t think I would be able to speak to anyone right now even if I wanted to. I feel like the biggest fraud as we join the rest of the attendees on the carpet for photos.
It doesn’t take long for the whispering and curious glances to start. I feel everyone’s eyes on us, and it’s making me nervous. Are they convinced we’re a couple? Or can they see right through our facade?
When I look up at Nash, his features are turned down in a bored expression as if he has somewhere else to be, and I’m sure he does.
I wonder if events like this mean anything to him or if he simply comes for the free food and booze. I don’t know how he’s not wobbling on his legs from the amount of alcohol he consumed before stepping out of the car. It’s oddly impressive. I would’ve died of embarrassment if he was stumbling around in front of everyone. It wouldn’t have been a good start to the night.
“Everyone is watching us,” I whisper to Nash.
He looks down at me. “So? That’s what we want.”
I glance around at the watchful eyes of the most popular artists in the music industry and swallow hard. Beautiful women in dresses only the best money can buy walk the carpet ahead of us. Seeing them flaunt their figures in such exquisite dresses makes me feel underdressed. Maybe I should have worn something with more color to bring out the blue in my eyes, or make my blonde hair pop.
The couple walking behind us are two of the biggest names in the music industry right now—Shannon and Jason Taylor. A power duo with chart topping hit after hit. They’re a household name if you don’t live under a rock. Seeing them together in person, holding hands and wrapped in each other’s arms as they pose for the cameras, has me worried Nash and I aren’t doing enough to convince the public we’re dating.
“Do you think they know?”
Nash sighs. “Little devil, you need to get out of your head or you’re going to ruin this for us.”
I huff because he’s right. I’m the one who’s freaking out, not him. I need to learn to relax and just go with the flow. I can’t mess up now.
We continue to take photos along the carpet, and my anxiety seems to cool off a little. But when I see the end of the red carpet, I swallow hard. This is it. The moment of the big kiss. I try to drown out the media personnel calling out my name to look their way and just focus on walking in these heels and smiling.
When we reach the end of the carpet, Nash and I turn to face each other. His mismatched eyes appear brighter under the harsh lights lining the carpet.
I inhale a deep breath and meet his gaze. “Now?”
Nash doesn’t respond. Instead, he plants his large hands firmly on my hips and bends down to press his lips against mine. They’re just as soft as they were moments ago, but the whiskey taste is stronger. Although it’s just a simple peck on the lips for the cameras, something stirs deep within my core that has me forcing back a frown.
The voices from the journalists and media personnel are almost deafening, along with the shuttering from the cameras. If we weren’t convincing with our relationship, everyone wouldn’t be so shocked and desperate to snap a photo, right? At least, that’s what I’m trying to convince myself of.
Nash is the first to pull away. A grin takes over his lips as he smiles down at me, but I know he’s doing it for the cameras, so I return the smile. After a moment, we turn to face the media again to snap a few more photos before we’re ushered off the carpet and into the arena where the award show is taking place.
I do my best to keep the fake smile on my lips until we’re seated at a table near the front of the stage. As we walk through the room, I feel everyone’s eyes on us. I’m sure it’s unusual to see Nash Beck with a woman on his arm since he’s notorious for showing up stag or with the rest of Dark Angel. Or it could be the fact they’re confused to see the two of us together since we are two very different people from opposite walks of life.
Nash pulls out my seat for me and I settle down it, my eyes darting around the room. He takes the seat next to me and sighs. He closes his eyes and rolls his neck from side to side as if to relieve tension in his shoulders.
“I’m glad that’s fucking over,” he grumbles as he reaches for the glass of champagne already poured on the table.
“Me too,” I respond and look around the empty table. There are three empty seats. “Are the rest of your bandmates coming too?”
Nash meets my eyes over the rim of the champagne glass. “They’ll be here soon. It’s not unsurprising that they’re running late.”
“What are they doing?”
Nash shrugs and leans back in the seat after consuming every last drop of liquid in the glass. “If I had to guess, they’re probably at the strip club getting plastered and high. If I didn’t have to do this whole show-and-tell with you, I would be with them.”
I stare at Nash for a moment as his words settle in. Seeing him in this environment for an award show with his curls tamed and wearing a smart casual outfit makes me forget who he truly is. He’s a rockstar who makes music, drinks alcohol like his life depends on it, consumes all sorts of drugs, and goes through women like it’s his full-time job. He gets into fights with strangers at bars and spends nights in holding cells. Nash Beck is a notorious bad boy, and yet, here I am sitting beside him, pretending to be in love with him.
I don’t know much about his past, other than what has been reported by the media about his mother passing when he was younger. There is no mention of his father, though. He’s a closed book when it comes to the details of his life. I can’t help but wonder what could have happened to him to make him act this way. Surely, it has to stem from something he’s not sharing with the people around him.
“Why do you do that to yourself?” My eyes widen at the sudden word vomit. Shit. I did not just say that out loud.
Nash regards me for a moment before raising his brows. “You mean why I drink alcohol, take drugs, and go to strip clubs? Because I can, little devil. You should try it sometime.”
I blanch at his words. I’m not one to indulge in drugs because I have a… history with them I would rather not think about. They can ruin your life, that’s for sure, so it’s something I steer clear of. I don’t mind having a glass or two of alcohol because I enjoy it, but I will never drink so much that I can’t see, think, or walk straight. I don’t like the idea of not being in control of my body. It’s something I have stood firmly by for many years.
Scrunching my nose up at him, I shake my head. “No way. But thanks for the offer.” I want to push him further for more details, but it’s not my place to intrude on his life and past. But I can tell he’s not being truthful with his reasoning because I know troubled eyes when I see them.
As Nash said when we first met, we both have demons we’re trying to run from.
Loud whooping and cheering from behind me draw my attention away from Nash and to the three men walking toward us. I recognize them as Axel, Hudson, and Luca. They’re each wearing a black suit and a white dress shirt underneath, and their hair is styled neatly, compared to their usually wild and big appearance. I’m used to seeing these men wearing leather pants, chains around their necks, and combat boots, so this is an interesting sight.
“Nash!” Axel calls across the room, making the other two laugh.
Nash rolls his eyes and looks over his shoulder as they reach the table. “You’re late.”
Hudson falls into the empty seat to Nash’s right with a huff, his shaggy blonde hair styled behind his ears. “Sorry, we got caught up at the club.”
Luca plops down on the empty seat beside me, his two-toned hair swishing around his shoulders. It’s impressive that his hair is almost as long as mine. “Axel thought it would be a good idea to snort so much blow that he couldn’t see straight.”
My eyes find Axel across the table, who shrugs as if he wasn’t the reason they were late to the event. His shoulder-length split dyed hair is pulled back into a ponytail, allowing his sharp features to appear more present. Light blue glassy eyes blink rapidly as he tries to focus his attention on Luca. “I needed something strong to get through this boring ass event, didn’t I?” As if sensing another person present, his gaze finds mine. They widen when they see me. “And who do we have here?”
“I’m Kinsley May, but you can call me Kin if you want.”
Axel inhales a sharp breath and turns his gaze to Nash, who is staring at the empty champagne glass in front of him. “You didn’t tell us you were bringing your girl tonight.”
Do they know about our deal? I’m sure they would since this is meant to benefit them too as members of Dark Angel. But how many details has Nash shared with them?
Without lifting his eyes, Nash answers, “Does it matter?”
“Well, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” Hudson says with a kind smile. “I’ve seen some of your movies.”
I smile. “Really? Which ones?” I can’t imagine a man like Hudson, who is rough around the edges and sings rock music for a living, would watch the type of movies I make.
“Oh, shut up,” Luca chimes in from beside me. “I don’t think this dickhead has watched a single movie in his life.”
“Yes I have,” Hudson defends with a frown. “I love movies. If you weren’t always nose deep in pussy, you would know that.”
A snort escapes my nose at his response, and I have to cover my mouth from laughing out loud. Hudson and Luca don’t hear me as they continue to bicker among themselves. I turn to see Nash already looking at me, an amused grin on his lips.
“Something funny, little devil?”
I shake my head. “Nope. Nothing.” Wanting to avoid his intense eyes, I turn to look at the rest of the guys around the circular table. “So, why do you come to these award shows if Dark Angel isn’t nominated for an award?”
Axel takes a sip from the champagne glass in front of him. “Our label says we have to. Although we may be one of the biggest rock bands in the world, we’re too ‘controversial’ to win big awards like these. They’re fucking bullshit anyway, so it doesn’t matter. We just come for the free shit.”
“That must be annoying,” I comment. “You work so hard and yet the band gets no recognition for it.”
He simply shrugs. “We don’t need some fancy award to prove our worth in the industry. Our fans prove why we’re one of the best and that’s all that matters.”
The lights overhead flash three times to signal the start of the show. I take a deep breath and shift in my seat. I’m not out of the woods yet with the acting because there is still a high chance the cameras will zoom in on Nash and me, so I need to be ready for when that time comes.
The host steps out onto the stage as the cameras start rolling. He’s a comedian who has appeared on SNL multiple times, so he has no problem making the crowd burst into fits of laughter between each award presented. Despite how anxious I am about this whole evening, I find myself enjoying the jokes and singing along to the lyrics from the performers.Shannon and Jason Taylor get the biggest reaction from the crowd when they step onto the stage to perform—rightfully so. They’re amazing.
Now and then, I would catch Nash watching me with a blank expression, but he would look away when he caught my eye. I don’t know what’s up with him. I can only imagine he doesn’t enjoy these events because he has to be on his best behavior. He’s probably eager to get out of here, as am I.
As anticipated, the cameras pan to us and Nash instantly leans to the side to rest his large hand on my thigh. I try to contain the surprise from seeping into my features as I smile for the camera and laugh when the host makes a joke about being shocked that Nash Beck managed to snag a woman like me. My heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest, but the moment the camera pans away and all eyes are drawn back to the presenters for the next award, I breathe a sigh of relief.
Nash doesn’t move his hand.
I look down at my thigh where his hand is splayed out across the material of my dress, the bite of cold silver from his rings cooling my flushed skin. His knuckles are healing from recently being busted open, and I find myself tracing the thick veins racing across his hand and up his arm with my eyes, wondering if they cover the rest of his toned body. I’m not one to admire a man’s hands but goddamn these things are lethal. I just know that they would be able to choke me?—
“Little devil.” My head snaps up at the sound of Nash’s voice. His mismatched eyes are on me and a hint of a smile ghosts his lips. “You okay?”
I swallow the built up saliva in my mouth and nod wordlessly. Turning my attention back to the stage, I try to focus on anything but the heat radiating off Nash’s hand, but it’s almost impossible.
Goddamn, what the hell is he doing? The cameras aren’t on us, so he doesn’t need to touch me. My fingers itch to punch him in the face like I promised, but I can’t bring myself to do it. Why? I’m not sure. So, I let his hand lay there for the rest of the show.
When the cameras stop rolling, Axel heaves a sigh and leans back in his seat. “Thank fuck that’s over.”
Nash removes his hand from my thigh and I finally feel like I can breathe again. Although, for a brief second, I miss the feel of his warm skin caressing mine, and the way zaps of electricity would shoot across my skin whenever he moved or squeezed me.
“I thought it was never going to end,” Luca huffs from beside me. He turns to Nash. “What should we do tonight?”
Nash lifts his shoulders in a shrug. “Whatever you want. I might call it a night, though.”
Hudson frowns. “Why? Because you have to be a good boy for the tabloids?”
“No,” Nash growls, annoyance clear in his voice. “Because I want to be alone.”
Hudson claps a hand on Nash’s shoulder. “Okay. That’s fine. We’ll be at Limelight if you need us.”
The three of them stand and turn to me. Luca is the first to speak. “It was nice meeting you, Kin. Good luck dealing with this asshole.”
Nash rolls his eyes. “Ha-ha, very funny. Now fuck off.”
I smile at him, ignoring Nash’s harsh response. “It was nice to meet you all.” And I mean it. They are a lot funnier than I thought they would be. I found myself laughing along to their sly comments about the show and listening to the banter between them.
The three of them wave goodbye and merge with the crowd of celebrities leaving the room, leaving Nash and me alone at the table. My leg bounces as silence settles over us. It’s not tense like it was in the car, which I’m grateful for. It feels more… calm this time.
“Are you okay?” I ask, breaking the silence.
“I’m fine,” Nash answers quickly, not meeting my eye. He’s looking at the empty glass of champagne again, and I realize that it wasn’t topped up once during the entire show.
I saw how he chugged that nasty liquor before we got out of the car, so if I had to guess, I would say that he’s itching for a drink right now.
“You can go out if you want,” I say quickly. I don’t want this contract to be the reason why he can’t still be himself and live the rockstar lifestyle he wants, but maybe toned down a little. Yes, we may have rules in place, but it’s to help both of us, not restrict us.
Nash scoffs and lifts his eyes to meet mine. “I don’t remember asking for your permission, little devil.”
My mouth falls open. What the fuck? How does his mood switch so damn quickly? One minute he’s kissing me to stop a panic attack and now he’s giving me attitude. I’m going to have severe whiplash after these six months are up.
“I didn’t…” I pinch the bridge of my nose to contain the anger bubbling in my chest, reminding myself that we’re still in public and need to pretend that we like each other even though he’s making it difficult to do so. “You know what I mean, Nash. If you want to go out, then go, but don’t hook up with anyone if you do. You know the rules.”
Nash rolls his eyes and leans back in the seat, spreading his long legs. “As much as I would love to go to Limelight to have a drink and maybe get into some trouble, I would rather go home.”
“Why?”
He slides his tongue over the black lip ring. “Because I want to write lyrics in peace without the constant bantering from those noisy dickheads.”
I settle back in the seat and nod. “Okay. That’s fine. Do you write lyrics often by yourself?”
“Sometimes. I prefer to write alone when I can.”
I look around the room to see most of the tables are empty besides a few stragglers lingering. Whether it’s for another reason or to watch us, I’m not sure.
“So, how did Dark Angel form?” I ask. It’s been something I’ve been curious about since learning I would be fake dating Nash. I’m sure a quick internet search would provide the answers, but hearing it from the horse's mouth is much better.
Nash raises a curious brow at me. “Do you really want to know? It’s not interesting, I promise.” When I nod, he shifts in his seat. “Okay. Well, the four of us have been friends since pre-K. As we went through school, we bonded over our shared love for music. In high school, we started hanging out at Hudson’s house after school to play music with whatever shitty instruments we had. It was Luca who suggested we should form a proper band when we were eighteen and about to graduate. So, we did exactly that, and that’s how Dark Angel was created.”
“So, your origin story is like a lot of other bands,” I say with a shrug.
Nash senses the sarcasm in my voice and rolls his eyes. “I told you it wasn’t interesting.”
“What happened next?” I ask, eager to hear the rest of the story. I’m hoping it’ll give me some insight into who Nash Beck truly is.
“Well, we started slow by doing gigs in local pubs and recording music when we had the chance. We all worked shitty casual jobs in hospitality, not thinking we would make it big, and needed the income. At one of the gigs, a scouting agent was present and enjoyed watching us perform. We had grown a reputation around town and had formed a small fanbase. After that gig, we were signed to Black Box Record Label. From there, the band only grew more popular as we did small tours around the country. It soon turned into number one hit after number one hit, and the rest is history.”
I nod slowly. I remember the first time I heard Dark Angel on the radio when I was on set taking a break four years ago. Nash’s deep voice as he sang the rock hit was almost mesmerizing. I could picture him on stage, rocking out, while his female fans swooned over him. But then I saw him on the news and learned how much of a troublemaker he was. That said, I still think he is a great performer despite what he does with his life off the stage.
“What about your dad?” I ask, curious to know what he thinks about his son being one of the biggest rockstars in the world right now. “What did he say when the band took off? I know about your mother’s passing, and I’m sure she would be proud of you.”
Nash’s features instantly darken as he tears his eyes from me, his nostrils flaring. My face falls seeing the instant shift in his mood and the black clouds forming around his head.
Shit. What did I say to make him this visibly upset?
My eyes widen when he pushes himself up, the chair skidding behind him. Thankfully, everyone has left the arena and it’s just the two of us. “Let’s go.”
“B-but?—”
“I said let’s fucking go, Kinsley.”
His hands are fisted at his sides and he’s unable to look me in the eye. I can tell by the way his body is vibrating and his tense jaw that he’s trying to hold onto his composure. I’m only making it worse by not following his orders.
I huff and fold my arms over my chest. “Why? I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“You don’t know how to shut the fuck up and stop asking questions about shit that doesn’t concern you,” he snaps, his voice booming across the arena.
“I’m allowed to ask questions,” I say in an attempt to defend myself. I know he’s pissed off and I’m only making it worse with my defiance, but he doesn’t have the right to tell me what to do. “You can’t just?—”
My eyes widen when Nash snaps at the waist to meet me at eye level. His mismatched eyes are intense and filled with a fire I have never seen in them before. His chest is heaving as he looks me dead in the eye, and all I can do is blink in response as my heart beats rapidly.
“Don’t you ever mention my parents again, you got it? They are off fucking limits to ask about.”
Instead of telling him I can do and say whatever I want, all courage goes out the window as he pins me in place with his gaze. He looks like a lion ready to kill, and I’m the helpless prey caught in its trap with nowhere to go. No way of escaping. And it’s suffocating.
I swallow hard and nod because that’s all I can do. I’m quickly learning Nash has a short temper and it’s wise not to be on the receiving end of that fury. I need to know when to push him and when to reel it in. And right now, I need to fucking reel it in.
“Good. Let’s go.” He stands to his full height and walks away from the table.
Not wanting the paps outside to think we are fighting, I stand from the seat and rush after him. We fall into step beside each other as a tense silence settles between us. When we step outside and the shutters of the cameras go crazy, I fight to keep the fake smile on my lips from slipping because we have a role to play.
But deep down, I’m trying to piece together who Nash Beck is.