Part 1 (1/2)
Sometimes Brooke.
The ALWAYS SOMETIMES NEVER Rock Star Romance Series.
Sierra Avalon.
One.
Brooke.
The sun is so bright it's almost unbearable. I wish there was some way for me to tell G.o.d or the universe or whomever controls the sun to dim it. I riffle through my purse in an effort to find my sungla.s.ses. Instead I find: Lotion.
Hairspray.
Eyeliner.
Perfume.
I've got an entire drugstore beauty aisle in my bag, but no sungla.s.ses. I lay a palm over my eyes and groan instead.
”Do you need to borrow a pair of sungla.s.ses?” My best friend, Harper Leigh, asks. Of course she carries a spare pair. She's perfect in nearly every way.
The only way in which she's not perfect is in her choice of lifelong best friends.
And she's a bit style inept. She has a way of matching clothes that makes her look like some kind of hippie librarian. Even now that she's living with Nic Rayne, arguably one of the biggest celebrity rock stars on the planet, her wardrobe hasn't improved one bit.
”Glove compartment,” she prods.
”This is a great car, by the way.”
Her hands tighten on the steering wheel and I watch as the tension spreads through her body. Harper and I have been friends since elementary school and she's always been frugal. Her parents struggled financially over the years to maintain a middle cla.s.s existence. I'm sure living with a multimillionaire has taken some getting used to.
When I open the glove box I see not one but three pairs of extra sungla.s.ses. All high-end brands. ”What happened to the Harper I used to know? Buying a pair of sungla.s.ses at the Dollar Store used to be a major purchase. Now you're driving a brand new Audi with a thousand dollars' worth of spare sungla.s.ses in your glove compartment.”
She grimaces. ”Nic insists on buying stuff for me. It's not worth protesting. He just does it anyway.”
”Such a rough life,” I tease.
”It's not all unicorns and rainbows,” she fires back.
”Trouble in paradise?”
”He wants to get married. Like yesterday. I want to take things a little slower. I'm not even twenty-five yet. I never thought I'd be married before the age of thirty.”
”At least the guy wants to put a ring on it. Not many of them do these days.”
”I know. He's just very persistent. He's used to getting everything he wants when he wants it. And what he wants now is to marry me.”
”To have your problems...”
”So how was it?” she asks.
”How was what?” I feign innocence.
She laughs. ”I just picked you up from rehab.”
”Oh, yea, right. That place. I was trying to forget all about it.”
”Was it really that bad?”
”It was long.”
”You were only there thirty days.”
”Thirty long and miserable days. But I'm taking it one day at a time and living in the now because sobriety is a journey, not a destination. Recovery is a road littered with one-line slogans.”
”I'm so glad you haven't lost your wry sense of humor.”
”You may be the only person on Earth who actually thinks I'm funny. Most people can't see beyond my b.i.t.c.h faade.”
”I know one person who's extremely excited to see you. You are all he's been talking about since I mentioned you'd be staying with us.”
”He?”
”Leo. Remember the guy you shared a night of hot pa.s.sionate s.e.x with.”
How could I forget? Leo Donovan is by far the s.e.xiest guy I've ever been with. Just thinking about him sends a wave a heat through my entire body. His magical hands that seemed to know just the right place to move at just the right time. His luscious lips and tongue that I couldn't get enough of no matter how hard I tried. Don't even get me started on his ma.s.sive c.o.c.k...Ugh. Why did she have to bring up Leo when I've worked so hard to erase all memory of that spectacular night from my mind?
”I've had hot pa.s.sionate s.e.x with a lot of guys,” I say dismissively, trying to get Leo out of my head. ”Too many to even count. I don't even have enough fingers to count all the guys I screwed in rehab.”
”Were you supposed to be having s.e.x with guys in rehab?”
I can't help but laugh. ”Of course not. Having s.e.x in rehab is verboten.”
”But...” She leaves the word hanging in the air and I know it's my cue to fill her in on the details.
”Apparently I'm not just hooked on drugs and alcohol. I'm also a d.i.c.k addict.”
”Really? You?” She fakes surprise. ”Say it isn't so.”
”I just couldn't give up the c.o.c.k no matter how hard I tried. My first week in treatment they put us in expressive arts therapy. The art therapist was this young guy right out of grad school. Working at the rehab center was his first job. He was kind of cute in a puppy dog sort of way. When he went for art supplies I volunteered to help. I seduced him in the supply closet. I spent quite a bit of time in that supply closet with the guys in my art therapy group. People thought I was really into expressive arts, but I was really into getting guys into the supply room and getting f.u.c.ked.”
When Harper doesn't respond immediately I have a feeling she's disappointed in me. I'm disappointed in myself, but I'm used to letting myself down. She should be used to it too. I've been disappointing her ever since we were kids.
”Of course I remember Leo,” I admit. ”The guitarist in Nic's band.” I heave a sigh. ”I was just hoping he'd forgotten about me.”