Stroke It - Brooke Page Page 0,16
needy, and the paparazzi surrounding the thought of any of us having a relationship with another musician or actress was nothing but a headache. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to my previous conversation. I’ll see you around, Raina.”
Raina smiled at him and nodded.
Gunner patted me on the back then murmured. “Lighten up.”
I didn’t bother to respond.
Once Gunner was out of earshot, Raina rotated her body slightly so her crossed legs nudged into my thigh. “I’m sorry,” she spoke softly. “I don’t know why I was such a bitch earlier. I had just had a really crappy conversation before you came into the VIP room, and I’m not normally so quick to go into defense.”
I shrugged, “It’s cool.”
She stayed quiet while her apology marinated in my head. I wasn’t expecting her to say she was sorry for how she acted. It was a rare word for girls of her stature and age to admit they were wrong. Hell, it was rare for anyone, including myself.
She moved her legs so they weren’t touching my thigh any longer, and surprisingly, I missed the contact. It was small, but it was intentional, and I liked it more than I should have.
“So, you’re performing tomorrow, too?”
“We are. Hopefully we don’t get booed off stage,” I joked.
“I’ll be sure to refrain myself,” she smirked, holding her drink to her lips.
She’d fixed her makeup, the dark lashes intense and framing her gray eyes perfectly. She was beautiful, and if I didn’t run into her a half hour ago, I would have never known she’d been upset and crying.
“Where’s your friend?”
“Who? Calvin? I told him I was going to bed. We’re staying here, at the hotel. He walked me upstairs, but once he got back on the elevator, I decided to come downstairs and find you.”
I raised a brow.
“To apologize,” she added quickly. “I wouldn’t have been able to sleep without talking to you.”
“Well, it is appreciated, but not necessary.”
“But it was. People shouldn’t treat each other how I treated you. Especially when you were being considerate and caring.”
“Does that mean you’re going to tell me why you were really crying?”
Her eyes found her drink, twirling the straw around the ice. “I’m having relationship issues.”
“With?”
Her eyes flicked to mine. “My boyfriend, who else would it be with?”
I tilted my head in the direction of my band members. “All of those guys wouldn’t assume boyfriend, and we all have relationship problems.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Family seems to hassle us more. Then again, none of us have girlfriends.”
Her mouth made an O in understanding. “Do you have problems with your family?”
“Who doesn’t?”
She shrugged. “Me. My parents are supportive and wonderful. We have a great relationship. They don’t miss anything. In fact, they’re here now.” She paused. “In their own room.”
My head tilted slightly. In their own room. Why would she add that information? “Well, I’m happy for you.”
“Do you not get along with your parents?”
“They don’t exactly get along with me.”
She waited for me to expand, and I didn’t, so she began to pry. “Well? Do they not talk to you?”
“Let’s just say their ability to hold grudges was inherited by me.” I admitted.
“You’re not that old. What could they possibly hold against you?”
My chest tightened along with my grip on my beer bottle. I didn’t like to talk about how I disappointed my parents so badly, because I didn’t blame them for holding it against me. I would have disowned me if I were them.
“What happened with your boyfriend?”
She pinched her lips together. “Since you’re deflecting, I guess I’ll go first. He’s cheating on me.”
“That’s shitty.”
Her eyes were hooded, never leaving the rim of her martini glass. “I figured it out tonight. You walked in after I had caught him and confronted him. That’s why I was so upset when you found me.”
“That’s a douchebag move. Let me guess, he’s an actor, isn’t he?”
She laughed under her breath. “No, he’s an athlete. He’s trying to get into the NHL. He behaves like an actor, that’s for sure.”
“I’ve never had a successful relationship with an actress, either. Then again, I haven’t really had any real relationships.”
She furrowed her brows. “I thought you were seeing Leslie Smithstone?”
The corner of my mouth twitched. “I’d dated her some, yes. Accompanied her to a few shows, but we were never in an actual relationship. She’s just a friend.”
“Oh, I guess I assumed…” her lips pressed together when she noticed my unamused stare.
“You really like the tabloids, don’t you?”
She flushed, pushing her hair