stroking my semi-hard dick. “I’m sure you remember our kiss on stage though, right? The whole world saw it. We can start over fresh today. No biggie.”
Growling out my frustration, I grab her hand and pull it away from my now hard dick. “That kiss was only to piss Brad off and we both know it. I was a dumbass and drank too much and that’s the only reason you ended up in my bed. Let’s not turn this in to something more than it is or ever will be. You were just a distraction that I needed at the time. I used you.”
Her eyes go wide before she reaches for the clock on the table beside her and tosses it at my head. “You’re a huge asshole. Do you know that?”
“Yes,” I say stiffly.
I stand here like an ass and watch as she scrambles to grab her clothing and get dressed. “I should’ve known better than to fall for your smooth talk last night. Hello. I mean, you’re a rock star for crying out loud. What the hell was I thinking? Madden Parker doesn’t fall for women. They fall for him and end up broken.”
She stops in front of me and tosses my shirt at my face. “Oh yeah. I remember now. I was thinking you were a better guy than Brad, but apparently all men are assholes. So, screw you for making me like you, asshole.”
The door slams behind her so hard that the pictures on the wall shake.
I have no doubt that Landon and Hendrix will be making their way to my room soon, now that they know she’s gone.
And I’m right, because as soon as I take a seat on the bed and place my face in my hands, the door unlocks and opens.
“You look like shit, dick.” Landon steps inside and looks around the room. “What… Did you fuck her against every surface in this room? It looks more like shit than you do.”
“I couldn’t tell you, because I don’t remember.” I look around the room to see tables and other shit knocked over or out of place. “But I’m guessing… yeah. I fucking did.”
Hendrix pokes his head inside but doesn’t bother joining us in the chaos I created last night. “Both of you dicks need to shower. Our photoshoot is in less than an hour.”
I nod and empty out my suitcase, wanting to get this shit over with so I can escape for a while. “I’ll meet you guys at the bus in thirty.”
“Alright, man.” Landon stops at the door and turns back around. “And lay off the Jameson. You’re already teetering on the edge of being smashed and it’s nearly noon on a fucking Sunday.”
With that he leaves me alone to get ready.
And as soon as I’m alone again, my mind turns into a whirlwind of messed up thoughts…
I take a slow, deep breath and reach for my guitar case, before grabbing my suitcase and hoping that it’s going to be a clean exit from the restroom.
I haven’t had a second to even think since the moment I stepped off that plane, because I’ve been surrounded by screaming fans and paparazzi, despite my attempt to keep hidden by this hoodie.
My flight landed over an hour ago—the one I chose to take over driving in hopes of clearing my head—and I’m not surprised one bit that Logan hasn’t shown up to pick me up yet.
I get that his job is demanding and keeps him busy, but shit, I haven’t seen him in over eight months. You would think he’d put his job aside for ten minutes and remember that his baby brother is waiting for him at the airport.
He’s the one who suggested he pick me up in the first place when I offered to take a taxi from the airport. He gave me this five-minute spiel about how he’s my brother and there was no way in hell he was going to leave me to take a taxi when he could provide me with transportation himself.
The moment I step outside and get ready to reach for a smoke, a group of females run at me, holding up their phones and snapping as many selfies as they can get with me in them.
Keeping my cool, I lean in and pose for a few, before I take off walking and pull out my phone to see if Logan has messaged me back yet. I smile when I see a missed text from Chance. Followed by