Give Me Love (34 page)

“Security?” He gave me a questioning glance.

“Yeah. I’ve sort of got a stalker that’s trying to well, bump me off.”

I said sort of because coming right out and saying “There’s an asshole following me around, waiting for his moment to kill me,” sounded well, worse.

“Fuck, Evie. Hang on...” He answered his ringing phone and walked over to the window for a moment while he talked before returning. “That was Gary. He’s not gonna be able to swing by, but he said to mention he’ll call Mac tomorrow morning about the tour if you’re all happy to go ahead. Anyway, that really sucks. We get that kinda crazy all the fucking time. Price of fame, you know. Our security is pretty tight, but we’ll pass on the info to you because no doubt you’ll want to bring your own along.”

Relieved that security didn’t appear to be an issue, I spoke to Coby and he left, trusting I was safe with George in attendance. I had to promise I wouldn’t go anywhere, and he said he’d return later to collect me.

Nearing the afternoon when we’d finished running through just about everything possible, I remembered the small twinge that had tugged at me back at the photo shoot and took the opportunity to speak to Matt about it.

“Matt, can I ask you a personal question?” He nodded, so I continued. “Well, I was just wondering, being famous, all the late nights performing, long days recording, and always being on the road...” I paused for a moment to think about how to form what I was trying to say “…how does that work with relationships? I mean, obviously it’s not easy, but you can make it work, right?”

He cringed a little and rubbed at his chin just enough to make me think maybe I shouldn’t have asked. “I’m probably not the best person to ask that question, Evie.”

“Oh, sorry.”

I fidgeted with the hem of my skirt.

“No, it’s not that. I don’t mind. It’s just that if you’re hoping to hear happily ever after, it hasn't happened for me. If you want me to be honest, well, it’s more than just not easy. It’s fucking hard work. The hours are long, and performing takes you away more often than not. That’s just the first hurdle really. Get famous and you’ve got PR telling you who you can and can’t be, add paparazzi to the mix, catching you in compromising positions, making it into something that it’s not, creating rumours and jealousy. Then you spend your time defending your actions and the person you are. Constantly second guessing people around you. Do they really care or if it all went away tomorrow would they still be by your side? After all that, it gets exhausting and well, lonely. Even surrounded by people, you can still feel really alone. Music has to be your world to want this kind of life and to live it because it’s what gets you through all that shit.”

While it was always good to hear the truth, his words left me feeling cold. I could understand the reasons behind Jared’s reaction to thinking something more happened with Tate than what it did, but I was left feeling anxiety for our future together, especially after Matt confirmed all my doubts.

Matt glanced at my ring finger. “Well, I’m assuming you’re asking because you’ve got a partner?”

“Yeah,” I muttered. “We’ve known each a long time I guess, but it’s still in its early stages.”

“Frankly, Evie, if it’s still in its early stages, you’re probably better off leaving it there. Suddenly being introduced to this life is harder than living it. This guy, it is a guy?” I nodded. “He’s probably used to having you all to himself. Soon you’ll have guys all over you, literally, and that’s just walking down the street. Handing you their number, putting you in compromising situations, and he’ll be sitting off watching it all, seeing it in papers, watching while people control your life. If you don’t think he’s the type of person who can deal with that, then…” he trailed off with a shrug and the cold feeling only got worse.

Chapter Twenty

I viciously yanked another weed out of the little cottage garden by the back deck and tossed it over my shoulder. The garden was pretty, but heading towards overgrown, deserving much more than I could offer it. My green thumb was more brown, and weeds, being wily imposters, made the task of determining friend from foe twice as difficult.

I sat back on my haunches to rest my noodle arms. The dirt had somehow evolved into cement like proportions which meant my recently purchased trowel from the homewares store was getting dirty. I had to buy it because it was hand-painted pink with white and yellow daises.

Unwinding the hose, I turned it on and clicked the spray handle to mist, aiming it at the garden bed in the hopes it would loosen the dirt.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Startled, I turned at the question. Forgetting I was holding the hose, it turned with me, and I misted Henry.

“Shit.” He leaped back, the unexpected shower providing me with an entertaining impromptu dance.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” I asked, wondering if stupid questions were going to be the order of the day. I wasn't in the mood but I couldn’t imagine there was ever a mood that happily entertained stupid questions.

He gave me a scan, taking in the dirt encrusted singlet top, grass-stained shorts, and pile of hair that had likely progressed from this morning’s rats nest to something that would now scare small children.

“It’s eight in the fucking morning.”

Finished misting, I clicked off the hose and let it drop at my feet.

“Thanks for the update, Henry.”

I resumed my crouching position and yanked what I assumed was another weed and tossed it at his feet.

He threw up his hands in exasperation. “Fuck it. It looks like you’re up. At eight am. Weeding the garden. So I’ll repeat, what the fuck are you doing?”

“Jesus, someone get this man a medal because he just answered his own question.”

I threw another weed and we both watched it hit Peter in the face. Since Peter considered himself Aslan, and the backyard his Narnia, he wrestled with it, chewing savagely until it was a pile of defeated green mush at his feet.

“Har har. Talk, Chook, or I’ll throw you to Peter, and he’ll chew you up and spit you out.”

I paused and took Peter in. Dribbles of green mush lined his chin, his eyes were freakishly fanatical, and his incisors were slightly bared from his hardened battle. “I’ll take my chances.”

I knew I was in for my own battle when Henry dragged a timber deck chair out to the grass and sat down. Reclining comfortably, he ruffled Peter’s head when Peter began chewing viciously on the leg of the chair.

“What happened?”

I swallowed the sick, hollow feeling that crept up my throat, but it didn’t descend. “We’re over.”

“What?” Henry sat forward in shock. “You and Jared?”

“No, me and Ryan Gosling,” I said sarcastically. “Unfortunately, Ryan told me that every day we were together was the greatest day of his life and he'll always be mine. I told him he was a loser and to get lost.”

“Ah fuck,” he muttered.

Ah fuck was right, so I nodded.

He sat back in his chair. “Tell me.”

I thought back to last night. We had played at the White Demon. It was our last show before we went on tour and three weeks after I’d met Matt. Sins of Descent were playing a song, a surprise for the crowd to generate some publicity for the tour. It was a busy night. Word had got out the famous band was in the building. Lines snaked out along the side of the building and down several blocks. Fights broke out, the police were called three times, people were arrested. It was a huge success.

Matt and I were catching up, holed up in the backstage dressing room having a drink. I was nervous. I was about to head out and introduce their band to the frenzied crowd. We stood up from our chat, and Matt gave me a tight hug. One hand rested on my head as I tucked it under his chin, the other around my waist. I returned the hug because I had no romantic feelings towards him at all, and Matt seemed lonely, not lecherous.

Then Jared had opened the door, and there was no other word for how he looked other than hot. His hair had grown again, sweeping over his eyes, and the longer it grew, the lighter the ends got. He was wearing his dark vintage Calvin Klein jeans and a fitted black Led Zeppelin US 1975 tour t-shirt. I loved that shirt. I needed to buy the girl version.

His eyes found us and his brows furrowed together creating a fierce glower. Arms folded over his chest, accentuating his biceps, he stood in a wide legged stance which evoked images of pistols drawn. Jared pissed off was a sight to behold.

Wisely, I pulled myself out of my daze and pushed Matt away, thinking no matter how harmless our situation it still didn’t look good.

Then Jared spoke and that thought became a realisation. “Would you mind getting your fucking hands off my girl,” he growled.

I made an attempt to diffuse the situation. “Jared, it’s not what you think.”

“Yeah?” His voice raised a bit, not sounding like my attempt had performed its intended miracle in the least.

Jared nodded his head towards the door. “Get out,” he said to Matt.

Matt raised his brows at me in a “See? I told you so” expression, but he left, making sure to glare at Jared on his way out the door.

“Jared,” I turned to face him fully. “I’m not Jessica. You’re gonna have to learn to trust me.”

Jared, his lips pressed together in a thin line, did not look delighted about me bringing Jessica into the conversation. “You think I don’t trust you? It’s everyone else I don’t trust. You gotta learn not to put yourself in situations where people take advantage of you.”

“Oh I do, do I?” I folded my arms, copycatting his stance as my snit started to take hold. “You think I’m stupid enough to let people take advantage of me? You think I can’t take care of myself, recognise the real people from the frauds?”

“Baby, you don’t understand―”

“No, you don’t understand, Jared.” I unfolded my arms and reached for the door behind him. “But I don’t have time to explain it to you right now.”

He put a gentle hand on my arm to stop me and spoke softly. “Is this what you’ve been stewing on for three weeks? Because I’ve felt you pulling away from me since the first time you met that asshole. What did he do to make you start shutting down?”

It was true.

Since my chat with Matt, I freaked out as the cold feeling took hold little by little and began closing myself off. It wasn’t even deliberate, simply an instinctual type preservation, yet I could still feel myself doing it.

“Shit,” I muttered. “I have to go.”

It was later, after the show finished, that it came to a head in a manner that was both messy and downright hostile.

The boys, Henry, Jake, Frog, and Cooper were lost to the bar, completely wankered and in no condition to know where they were or if they had a name or even a home. Mac was missing in action, and it appeared so was Jared. I sat myself down at a private table between Matt and Travis with conflicted emotions. Excited, because we had a tour in two days, and edgy because of Jared. I noticed, as I glanced around, female eyes were trained on me with resentment, so I smiled a little smugly. I
was
sitting at a table with one of the hottest bands of the moment, and Travis, and if I didn’t take a moment to bask in the glory just a little, my female membership card would have been revoked.

Travis leaned over. “What’s going on with you and Jared?”

“Nothing,” I lied.

“Doesn’t look like nothing.” He turned his head towards the bar to indicate where Jared had now re-appeared, wedged between Henry and two blonde skanks.

“Fuck.” My first instinct was to wade into the pile of bodies and throw a hissy fit big enough to rival a Britney Spears meltdown. Then I realised my reaction was in complete alignment with Jared’s earlier assumption. Would this be our life now? Constantly defending ourselves to each other?

Jesus.

I threw back a shot, set down the empty glass, and picked up my beer chaser.

“I can’t do it,” I admitted to the table.

The table didn’t respond, but Travis did. “Can’t do what?”

“Relationships. Jared and I.” I shook my head and sucked the beer down as though it was last call at happy hour. Realising that I didn’t want to be the only one sober, I put down my now empty beer glass and reached for Travis’s drink.

He stilled my hand and I paused to give him a look that told him I really needed that drink.

“Don’t say that, honey. Don’t.” His lips were tight and he looked unhappy.

“It’s only going to get worse,” I declared.

Travis looked even more unhappy. “Evie, don’t cut him loose. You’ll break his fucking heart. Just give yourselves a fighting chance. Talk to him in the morning when alcohol is out of the equation okay?”

Travis ran his fingers through his hair and huffed out a breath, glancing towards the bar and at Jared. “I don’t wanna see him hurt, and watching him shut down over the whole Jessica farce was fucking torture. With you, Jesus, it would be even worse. When you get back, we’ll have Jimmy out of our hair and everything can go back to normal.”

“Even worse?” I repeated.

“Yeah. He never loved her like he loves you.”