Flirting With Chaos (28 page)

What does one say to that?

“You look blown out of your mind.” He seemed a bit upset.

“I am.” I stared at my hand. “You know, I think I would have appreciated it more if you had simply told me that you had a vagina versus having me touch it.”

“Oh, yeah. I guess that could have been strange.”

“Bizarre.”

“A bit.” He shrugged.

“No. Really, really bizarre.”

“I’ve already smoked a few joints today. I’ll blame it on that.”

I extended my hand to him. “Okay. Let’s try this again. Hello, my name is Rain.”

Simon shook my hand. “Hi. I’m Simone, but everyone calls me Simon. Ignore my vagina and embrace my metaphorical penis.”

I beamed. “Glad to meet you and your metaphorical penis. Additionally, do not have me touch your vagina again, and I promise to not have you touch mine.”

He chuckled and saluted. “Now, let’s go smoke this jumbo blunt. I packed it tight with good stuff.”

Okay. I’m in a fetish club while a hip-hop video is being taped. I’m hanging with a guy who is really a girl, and we’re heading off to the bathroom to do illegal drugs so I can cloud my mind about Jude having a threesome in the men’s bathroom. Interesting evening so far.

I’d craved an escape from my past, and that was what I got.

Chapter 20

Legalize It

M
ARIJUANA
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MOKE
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BSCURED
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Y
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IEW
of the bathroom. I sat on the counter by one of the sinks. Two dancers, one African American with braids and the other Hispanic with long wavy hair, lounged next to me, passing Simon’s blunt. At first, they’d been shocked that he was in there. I’d explained that Simon was a she before he seized their hands and rubbed them around his secret area. He’d cracked the window open, but still, a sweet fog drifted around us. I had no idea how long we’d been in there. It must’ve been close to half an hour. My body had gone numb and calm, almost soothing. I found myself laughing at my earlier thoughts of Jude.

Why would I even care what he’s doing? What am I, a lion tamer? Some sort of special forces unit for manwhores of the world? Jude is not mine and I am not his.

I’d been saying the statement like a mantra every time my mind coasted toward thoughts of what Jude was doing with those other girls.

What is he doing? Well, Rain, he’s sticking his cock into them, that’s what.

“What are you thinking about over there, girl?” Simon handed the little bit of blunt left to me.

I waved it away. I was so blown. A hum sounded in my head, and I couldn’t tell if it was real or something my brain was playing out for my sanity. My shoulders slumped forward, and I comfortably lounged on the sink.

“Rain?” Simon waved his hand in front of my face. “You with me?”

“I’m here. I’m just chilling.” My words streamed out in lazy slurs. My tongue weighed heavy in my mouth. My body tingled with ease and relaxation. “I’m just really high right now.”

Everyone burst out laughing, and I joined them.

“Well, at least you’re laughing.” He approached the stall in front of me, dropped the tiny bit of his blunt in the toilet, and flushed. “You looked sad earlier.”

“Yeah?” I exhaled. “I was just trying to adjust.”

“To what?”

“My new life.”

The dancers began talking about some other rapper that groped them whenever they shot a video with him. Apparently, he took them all to the side and explained that whoever gave him a blow job would be promoted to the feature dancer in the video. Both claimed they’d never done it.

“Do things like this happen a lot?” I interrupted their conversation.

“It’s the music business, girl.” The one closest to me tucked long braids behind her ear. “Women get no respect in this business. We’re treated like sex toys, especially in hip-hop. That’s straight-up male dominated. Females have to fight for everything more than ever. These guys don’t respect our personal space. These ugly-ass rappers think we’re their personal porn stars, here to pleasure them at their own convenience, when we’re all working and trying to get ahead like them.”

The Hispanic dancer high-fived her. “That’s why I only work for certain ones, like Maestro. He’s mad cool. He’s not cray cray like the other ones. Plus, he don’t do hard drugs and be on the set throwing up or wilding out.”

“Oh, yeah. He’s mad respectful,” the other one agreed. “No touching. I think he even has a policy of not messing with any video chicks, dancers, or whatever he thinks is a groupie.”

“Good policy,” I agreed.

Groupies were all just hanging around these guys because they had money. That was it. Did Jude get that?
I hit my head.
Does it matter? And seriously, as hot as Jude is, women would be in his face regardless.

I blew out a long breath. “New topic, please. No more discussing talented men that drip with so much pussy they forget their manners and just treat women like playthings, toys, and blow up dolls.”

“Your girl is hilarious.” The dancer with braids pointed to Simon. “She’s off the hook, for real.”

A boom sounded at the door. “Ladies? What’s taking so long? We need you on the stage. You both are close to losing the gig.”

Both dancers quickly gathered their things, cursing under their breaths. They’d taken their shoes off and now rushed to put them on.

He banged at the door. “Hurry your asses up!”

“We’re coming,” one yelled. “Sorry.”

He banged at the door again.

I didn’t know what it was. It could have been all the discussion of what the dancers had said about how badly they’d been treated. Perhaps I was pissed with the whole situation with Jude. Either way, I scooted off of the counter, stomped toward the door, and pushed it open. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

The director stepped back with a shocked expression. “Who are you?”

“It doesn’t matter. They’ve been wearing fucking glass shoes and dancing in them for hours.” I poked his chest. “Then rappers are expecting blow jobs.”

He raised his hands. “Hold up. No one said anything about blow jobs. This is a sexual harassment-free video shoot.”

“Sure it is.” I showed him my middle finger. “I bet you’re the main one begging for head.”

“Miss Apple?” Maestro stepped out of the men’s bathroom, looked at me, and then glared at the director. “Is there a problem, Roger?”

“No.” The guy held his hands out. “She started yelling at me. I don’t even know who she is.”

Maestro faced me. “What’s going on?”

“Hey. Maybe I overacted.” I held my hands up in defeat. “I was just annoyed that he was banging on the door and yelling at them to hurry up.”

“Who? The dancers?” Maestro asked.

“Yes.”

He leaned his head to the side. “Rain, right?”

“Yes.”

“Do the dancers need some more time?” He smiled.

Both of the women ambled out in their heels with smiles plastered on their faces. “Oh, no. We’re ready,” one of them said.

They were behind me, so I couldn’t see who was talking, but it was in that moment that I realized I must’ve appeared like the crazy person who almost got them fired from a gig.

“So, can we shoot the scenes I need now?” The director’s voice had lowered since Maestro had entered the hallway, but he still appeared displeased.

“We’re ready,” the dancers said in unison.

“Do you need me now?” Maestro asked the director. “I need a few minutes.”

“Your scenes are done,” he replied and marched off.

“Good.” Maestro sniffed my way and leaned closer than he should. “Do you have any more bud?”

I blinked a few times. His gorgeous face, sensual scent, and nice body triggered an interesting reaction to mine. Hormones jumped inside me. I cleared my throat and managed a screechy, “No.”

“I have some in my trailer. Do you want to come and smoke with me?” His gaze traveled over my body. I considered what the dancers had said, that he didn’t go after groupies. I guess now the problem that came to my mind was whether he considered me a groupie or not.

I bit my lip. “I’m not giving you a blow job or anything else.”

He jerked back as if he’d been slapped. “I didn’t expect you to give me one or anything else.”

I covered my mouth with one hand. “Sorry. I’m already pretty blown right now. I’m not going to go with you. My friend is in the bathroom. I’m going to go back with him and calm myself down.”

He peered at the girls’ bathroom and then back at me. “He’s in the women’s bathroom?”

“Yes. He’s a guy.” I shook my head, realizing how crazy I looked. “I mean—”

“Who are you with, Simon?”

“Oh. You know him?”

“Yeah.” He placed his hand at the center of my back. “Simon will sit in the bathroom and smoke and snort all night. Come on. I just want to hang with you.”

I edged away. “Why?”

“Because you’re beautiful.”

Okay. So at least he didn’t make up an elaborate reason.

“And if I was ugly?” I raised my eyebrows.

“No one has ever asked me that. They usually accept the compliment and come with me.” He smirked.

“But what’s your answer?” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“If you were ugly, I probably wouldn’t say anything to you.” A wrinkle materialized on his forehead, as if he was worried.

“That sucks.”

“That’s life.” He rubbed his hands together. “Will you come with me?”

“And what is your plan when we go to your trailer?”

“Damn, you don’t play around.” He wiped the sweat off of his forehead. “I plan to talk to you for a while, show you how witty I am, hopefully get your number, and if I’m really lucky, a kiss.”

“What about Jude? He said I was with him.”

“What about him?” He gestured to the men’s bathroom. “Currently, he’s getting a blow job, so I believe I’m in my rights to intervene. From what I heard in the next stall, he was really enjoying it.”

Everything crushed inside of me—my heart, my soul, my insides. It all crumbled into balls of nothing. I knew Jude had been in there with the two girls. I was aware, but for some reason, confirming the fact only brought pain. Before, I’d assumed. Before, I hadn’t been sure. I’d had hope. Jude had disappeared, yes, but maybe not with other women. Perhaps he’d gone with some guys to check out a song or something else. But now I knew for sure that wasn’t the case, and it hurt. I hated to admit it to myself, but I was jealous.

Jude is not mine and I’m not his.

Saying that in my head didn’t push away my disappointment as it mingled with heartbreak.

“Okay. Let’s go.” I hooked my arm around Maestro’s.

Chapter 21

Tempting Distraction

M
AESTRO’S
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RAILER
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OOKED
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ARE
, but it had the essentials—a long milky white couch in the center, solid black carpet on the floor, and a flat-screen TV propped on the wall. A chair with his name lounged in front. He placed the joint between his lips.

His music filled the room. He’d been playing all the songs on his album the whole time. I found it odd and a bit pretentious, but for some strange reason I enjoyed his company. Granted, earlier I’d been sitting in a bathroom smoking, so maybe this would seem like a step up in entertainment.

“Do you have any music on your iPod besides yours?” I asked.

His eyes widened. “Sure. It’s just that most girls make this big deal about how they like hearing my music and want me to play it for them, so I usually get that part out of the way.”

I snorted. “So you have a method.”

He laughed. “I’m not that bad, but I do tend to play my songs for all of the women I date.”

“Or have sex with?”

His gaze journeyed up and down my body. “If I’m lucky.”

“What is your real name?”

“Tyrone. I hate it. I’d rather you stick with Maestro. It’s the only one I answer to.”

“All righty.” I shrugged.

Why did I come to his trailer? To get Jude out of my head and maybe show him that I can mess around too. But how far am I going to go with this?

Maestro rested on the other side of the couch. One hand rubbed the bottom of my foot. The other hand held a tiny joint. We’d been in his trailer for an hour, talking mainly about his life. He’d explained that his friend had recorded him rapping lyrics and then loaded the video up on YouTube. Just like Jude, his video had received a record number of hits, and a music company had signed him.

“Are you sure you don’t want to smoke this with me?” he asked.