Rock Dirty (Rock Candy #2) (14 page)

I mean, I was still young but I was getting older, and that was a good thing. Staying the same would be boring as hell, wouldn’t it? With life came experiences that couldn’t help but make you grow as a person, and I felt like I’d been growing, even more so after meeting Nikki. Because I suddenly realized that all that I’d held dear before meeting her? Not the music, but the partying and drinking and fucking around with different women? I hadn’t missed it. Not one bit since I’d been here. And to be honest, the thought of going back to all that after leaving Nikki—well, it kind of made me feel sick to my stomach.

It was a realization, but it was a damn heavy one. Like a motherfucking ton of bricks heavy.

I stared at my plate, paralyzed by the feeling that my life had seriously just changed. And when I lifted my gaze, knowing that the change involved the gorgeous woman sitting across from me, I didn’t know what the hell I was going to do.

Nikki was staring at me, as if waiting for me to respond to something she’d said.

“I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“I said, it would have been fun knowing you in high school. I’m sure you were a total blast.”

“Nah, like I said. I was just a regular Joe Shmoe. I can be obnoxious. I can be an ass. But I graduated into all of this when we went platinum. I never want to forget where I came from or how hard it was to work my way up. Snails or not, lawyers or not, I’m still just Tucker in the basement deep down, and that’s how I’m always going to feel.”

“Do you think that Liam feels that way?” she asked.

“Yeah, I do. Liam’s a great guy. Fame hasn’t changed him one bit.”

“But yet you said he’s putting the band in jeopardy. Making decisions that could affect you all for his own selfish reasons.”

“Yeah,” I said, leaning back in my seat. “But those selfish reasons aren’t about fame. They’re about love. They’re about his girl, Abby, and I guess, now that I’ve cooled down...” Now that I’d witnessed first hand the crazy things I could do or feel for a girl, I thought. “Well…” I shrugged, then suddenly grinned. “I guess a part of me admires the guy’s dedication. Fuck, where love’s concerned, you got to go all in, right?”

Her gaze dropped to her water glass and she skimmed her finger over the rim. “Right,” she said quietly.

As I watched her, she suddenly looked sad. Why? Because I’d mentioned love? Because she wanted that kind of love, too, and hadn’t been able to get it, not even from her own mother? Or was she worrying about the show again? Fuck, she didn’t really talk all that much about her stress to me, but if I wasn’t here, would she even have anyone to talk to?

“Have you ever thought of getting therapy, Nikki? To talk things through with someone? Your stress? Your mom? The…balancing thing?”

She shrugged, but her mouth flattened and her expression became mutinous.

“It’s just, you always push the limit and it’s not just your designs. I mean with the photographer—”

Her head snapped up. “If I didn’t push the limit, Tucker, you wouldn’t have finger-fucked me in an airport bathroom. And you’re the last person that should be lecturing me on acting wild,
rock star
.”

Well, okay. So obviously we weren’t close enough to go there. I guess she’d put me in my place, didn’t she?

“It doesn’t have to be about comparing which one of us has fucked up the most,” I countered. “I’m just worried about you and I think that getting some professional help wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

She rolled her eyes. “I tried therapy once. You know what it involved? Using pool noodles to hit foam targets as a way to get out ‘unconscious anger’ at people in our lives who were bothering us. I mean, it was like one step above punching a pillow. I didn’t need it.”

“Okay, so that was one place. Maybe there’s someone better who can actually help. Just be another support for you.”

“Look, Tucker, you’re not here to babysit. I have Hermes for that. I have you for fun and because you make me feel safe and alive. Can’t we just be about that? Because you said it yourself, fun is all that we’re about. Right?” She shifted, and suddenly I felt her leg playing with mine under the table cloth. “We don’t need to talk about the hard stuff right now, Tucker. Let’s save the hardness for later when we can play back at the hotel. We’re out in the City of Lights, enjoying the best food Paris has to offer.”

“I guess you’re right,” I said. If she wasn’t going to listen or open up to me, there wasn’t much I could do about it, right? Suddenly, the realization that Nikki had changed me and that she was somehow pivotal to my life taking a whole new direction dimmed.

The fun she talked about us having—the fun
I’d
talked about us having—seemed like nothing more than a disaster waiting to happen.

I wiped my mouth with my fancy cloth napkin. I felt tired all of a sudden. And I felt ready to go home. I’d stay for her birthday party tomorrow night and her show, but then I’d head back to LA

That way, both Nikki and I could get past the fun and get on with our lives.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Nikki

Zipping up my dress felt like a slow form of torture, each bit of the metal teeth closing up the side of my body, as if sealing me into a coffin from which I couldn’t escape. I didn’t want to go to the farce that was my twenty-seventh birthday party. It wasn’t thirty, thank God. I didn’t think I could stand a landmark birthday like that right now. I mean, there was still a chance that in three years my life would be awesome. Right now, I wasn’t sure that I’d ever be able to get past the reputation that was dogging me. I was on edge. I could admit that. The more pressure from the shows and the press I felt, the more anger bubbled up through me. I wanted to control it, but it was getting harder and harder to cope.

I was going to the party to appease Hermes, but I feared it was going to be a cluster fuck. I didn’t have any friends left. Not really. I’d driven everyone away with my spectacular meltdowns over the years. I’d indulged my deepest, most ravenous instincts, and that had led all of us to pain. If I could walk away from my life, I would too, but I couldn’t.

The only person who’d be there that I truly felt comfortable with was Tucker, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d said something the night before that had changed things. I’d felt a part of him withdraw from me, and it had caused me to panic. I’d wanted to cling to him, and the more I’d wanted that, the more I’d forced myself to step back. I’d grown too reliant on Tucker. Too needy. He’d obviously sensed that. I needed to take advantage of whatever time we had left together, but I also had to wake the fuck up. I was here to further my designs, and so far he was right. I’d let my thin skin and the trash talk by the designers and the press throw me off course.

I’d let Tucker throw me off course, too. Because the truth was, all the time I’d been spending with him could have been better spent working with my team and creating buzz about the show. But I’d never regret spending the time with Tucker.

When he went back to being a rock star, hopefully taking the spotlight and singing some songs the way he wanted to, I’d revel in the memories we’d made together.

Sighing, I brought my gold necklace, the one my dad had given me, to my throat. It complimented the scarlet of my dress and I reached into my closet for a pair of shoes to highlight the whole look. I hesitated over a pair of supple leather black pumps I’d made. They were more relaxed, a lower stiletto that didn’t make my feet ache.

Tucker’s words about my extreme designs not fitting who I was ran through my head even as I settled for gladiator sandals that were almost eight inches high and with ties that wrapped up my calf and shin.

I wanted to be able to wear more quality designs, ones made for function and not just to be buzzed about, but that wasn’t my brand. It wasn’t what I could afford to do right now with my show coming up. Everyone associated Nikki Lorenz with the extremes of fashion, and I had to be avant garde at all times, even if it exhausted me to do it. Once I’d won over the critics, then I could make some changes. Say what I really wanted to say.

I just wasn’t sure what that was anymore. I’m not sure I’ve ever known.

“Dominique, are you ready?” Hermes asked, setting his hands on my shoulders.

Usually he towered over me, but with my heels on, we were far closer in height. It was nice to wear the massive platforms and go from five foot five at best to almost six feet. That was the one thing about extreme fashion that I enjoyed. Maybe it gave me more of a level playing field. Then I looked into the mirror and saw his eyes crinkling back at me and realized what bullshit that was. He was ruggedly handsome in a Cary Grant kind of way. He wasn’t Tucker, with his lean body and cut abs and gorgeous green eyes and wicked smile, but he also wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

Hermes had tried his hardest to keep me safe even with me doing my best to screw my life up. I could find it easy to just listen more to him, let him lead my life and protect me for as long as he could stand me.

Maybe that’s what I should do.

“Who did you even invite?” I asked, teetering a bit on my huge heels.

He kept rubbing my shoulders, trying to calm me. “All the right people. It’s about appearances, Dominique. You don’t have to worry about a thing. I’ll take care of you just like I always have.”

He kissed my cheek. I stilled and tried hard to remember what I wanted,
who
I wanted and, for right now, that was still Tucker. He was excitement and connection, while Hermes was just the security, that predictable path that might offer comfort but didn’t offer much else. The difference between them was similar to the difference between your favorite sneakers and your best pair of heels. Both were a key part of your wardrobe and both could be comfortable, but only one of them made you feel every inch the woman you knew you could be.

I pulled away and rummaged for stud earrings, just to have something to do, but he wasn’t deterred.

“I’ve planned dancing afterward. Perhaps you can save me a dance?” he said.

It was getting harder to swallow and, beyond that, even harder to balance the two men in my life. “I’ll think about it.”

* * *

Le Jules Verne
was one of the premiere restaurants of the city, and you couldn’t beat the real estate. It was nestled part way up the Eiffel Tower. From outside the huge banks of windows, one could look out and spy the skyline for The City of Lights as well as the very steel girders holding up the whole edifice. It was a striking view made even more breathtaking by the orange-rose glow of the setting sun. The small tea light candles on each table added to the effect with their flickering lights.

When I stepped into the restaurant, I smiled at the collected throng of critics, sycophants and other designers who greeted me. Some big names I never would have counted on being here had shown up. A few were kind enough to kiss my cheeks and gush over me, which really surprised me given my shoes hadn’t been a big hit at the previous shows. I was feeling happy that perhaps the evening wouldn’t be a total disaster when I spotted the reason everyone was being so nice to me.

In a far corner, near a table set to overflowing with drink selections, was my mother.

I inhaled a swift breath and looked accusingly at Hermes. He was looking at my mother with a frown, as if even he hadn’t known she would be here. I’m not sure I believed that but…

I turned back to my mom. Anna Lorenz had never been more than a size two in her entire life. I envied her ability to deny herself more than a couple protein shakes in a day and a salad. High fashion didn’t allow as many curves as my size six and Anna Lorenz
was
high fashion incarnate. Gulping, I steadied my shoulders. There was approved press here, and it was my duty to play nice with my mother, to smile and kiss her cheek. Besides, she’d made plans to attend my show to support me. Maybe she’d decided to come early as a show of love on my birthday.

I was halfway across the restaurant and poised to engage with the dragon lady when someone coughed behind me.

Tucker!

I grinned at him, definitely underdressed in jeans and a logo t-shirt. Flinging my arms around him, I relished the way his lips felt on my own, the way his tongue tangled deftly with my own.

“I was worried after all the tension at the restaurant last night that you wouldn’t come.”

“Hey, my cougar only turns twenty-seven once, right?”

I giggled, actually feeling the tension and stress and anxiety seeping out of me. “It’s not that big an age difference, so try again there, Point Break.”

“Fine, but I couldn’t let you run the gauntlet here without someone cheering in your corner. I needed to be here for you. Do you want me to go?”

I felt my mom’s pointed gaze already burning into my back. The last thing I could take would be losing my support. He was the crutch I needed to get through the night.

“No, I don’t want you to go, but you might want to run after I tell you that my mom is here. In the corner. I have to go talk to her right away. It’s what everyone’s expecting.”

“Is it what you want?” he pressed, concern brimming in his eyes. “Because I could monopolize your time quite easily if you let me.”

“It’s what I need to do, and that’s what’s important,” I countered, wishing I could take the out he was offering me. Kissing his cheek, I smiled back for him as broadly as I could. “It’s fine. I have this.” Now that you’re here.