Seductive Chaos (Bad Rep #3) (33 page)

What?

“Hold up! Vivian, calm down a sec,” I started but she was shaking her head furiously. And then she was getting dressed and covering the body that I had just worshipped and adored.

“No, you can’t come in here being all sugary and wonderful. You can’t sweet talk me and tear me down like this. And you sure as hell can’t tell me you love me while fucking me! You’re messing with my head, Cole! I can’t let you keep doing this to me!”

She was getting seriously worked up. I jumped out of bed, not worried about the fact that I was still naked and semi-hard.

I grabbed her by her upper arms to try to stop her from walking out of the room.

“I’m not messing with your head, Viv. I meant it. Okay, so maybe it was bad timing. But I love you. I really do,” I said softly, running my hand through her hair.

I didn’t often do tender but I was trying. For her I’d do just about anything.

Vivian shook her head again. What was so complicated about this? Why the fucking drama?

“This is just like you, Cole! You can’t use sex; you can’t use
me,
to hide from the stuff going on in your life. This has always been our problem, can’t you see that?”

“What are you talking about?” I asked. My head was starting to hurt. Vivian was giving me a headache.

“We fuck. We argue. We fuck. You do something stupid to piss me off. We fuck some more. I left you for a reason. I was fine with that. Or I was trying to be. I have a life here. And now this. Why are you doing this?” she wailed.

I got it. I really did. But just because we made things difficult didn’t mean they weren’t worth the effort.

“We’re a mess! We suck each other dry. We should end this now, once and for all, before there’s nothing left to walk away from,” Vivian appealed to me.

I shook my head, refusing to hear her. I pulled her up against me, my hand wrapping around the back of her head as I held her tight.

“If we’re a mess, then I’m ready to get dirty, baby,” I growled before I claimed her mouth.

She was mine.

It was time to remind her of that.

She was falling into me. I could feel it. I supported Vivian’s weight as her legs buckled beneath her. And we kissed and kissed like they do in those crappy chick flicks she was so damn fond of.

It was epic. This was the beginning. This is where I started to put together all of the fucked up pieces of my life. The sun was shining, the bees were buzzing, the flowers were blooming. This was some Disney princess shit going on!

Or maybe not.

“Seriously stop it or I’m going to knee you in the nuts,” she warned, pushing me away again.

Her hands were shaking. So were mine. My adrenaline was coursing and I was two seconds away from throwing her over my shoulder and tossing her down on the bed. She always listened better with my hand between her legs.

“I love you, Vivian. I want to be with you!” I started to close the distance between us but she was still shoving me.

“You said that. I get it. You think you love me. Whooptie freaking Whoo.”

“No, I don’t
think
I love you. I know I love you!” I argued. This was not going at all how I fantasized about it in my head this morning. In between mild panic of course.

Vivian rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well pardon me if I have hard time believing that sentiment when I’m so used to fending off a hundred other girls who I’m sure you feel oh so deeply about.”

We were back to this. I should have expected it. I didn’t blame her. But it was still frustrating.

“There are no other girls! Not anymore! I haven’t fucked anyone else in over six months, Viv! No one but you!” I swore.

“Do you want a medal? How about a sticker? Because you may not have done the deed, but your tongue has still been down a lot of throats. I should know. I’m usually front and center for the entire show.”

Okay, so she had me there.

I folded my hands in front of me in a pleading gesture. “Please, Viv. I don’t want anyone but you. What can I do to make you believe me?”

Vivian shook her head. “It’s hard to have faith in someone who has proven time and time again to not be trustworthy. Not only with me. What about your band? Cole, you’re planning to step out behind their backs as well. What does that say about you? How can I ever be comfortable in a relationship with someone who doesn’t honor his commitments to anyone? Not me, not your friends, not your label, not even your fans.”

I opened my mouth to deny what she was saying. But she was right.

Fuck me, she was right.

“You need to make things right, Cole, if you ever want anything to happen between us. I can’t let myself love someone who hasn’t proven that they deserve my heart.”

We stood there, staring at each other for an endless moment. I wanted to yell that she was wrong. But how could I when every single thing she uttered was the total and honest truth?

I picked up my clothes from the floor and got dressed. “I get it. I’ve got a lot to make up for.”

I started to walk past her when she grabbed my arm. “Don’t do this for me. Or because you want to prove something. Make it right because it’s what you want to do. I understand if the band isn’t your passion anymore. That maybe you need to go do your own thing. Whatever. You still owe it the people who have stood by you to talk to them about what’s in your head.”

I nodded, covering her hand briefly with mine.

“I’ll be back,” I promised. And I meant it. I wouldn’t leave her now.

Vivian gave me a sad smile.

“I hope you will be.”

I
wasn’t sure what I’d say when I walked up Garrett’s front porch. I had no idea if this would be some sort of reconciliation or whether it would be the final severing.

But with Vivian’s words swimming around in my head, I knew I couldn’t put it off any longer.

I thought about knocking. I hadn’t knocked in years. I could hear music from inside, the familiar strains of
Fuck Me
along with Jordan’s voice.

I turned the doorknob and walked inside. I followed the music to the stairway off the kitchen. The light was on in the basement so I went down the steps.

Maysie was on the couch talking to a girl I recognized as Sophie McMillian from high school. Mitch, Garrett, and Jordan were playing a set I knew all too well.

I sat down on the bottom step and watched them. They didn’t realize I was there until there was a break between songs and Jordan glanced toward me. He put his sticks down. Mitch and Garrett frowned at him.

“What the hell?” Mitch asked.

“Looks like we’ve got company,” Jordan said coldly, nodding his head in my direction.

Maysie looked startled. They all did.

“If it isn’t the providential son,” Mitch sneered.

Garrett snorted. “It’s
prodigal
son, dumbass.”

Mitch puffed up his chest. “Whatever. What are you doing here, Cole?” he asked, setting his bass in the stand.

“I was driving by and heard some fucking amazing music. I wanted to check it out. Had no idea it was a bunch of raging douchebags,” I joked, trying for humor to lessen the tension.

It didn’t really work.

No one smiled. Not even a little.

Tough room.

I stood up and walked over to my mic stand that had been pushed into the corner. I kicked it with my shoe. No one said anything. They weren’t going to make this easy for me.

“Seriously, man. What are you doing here? We all got the impression we wouldn’t see you until Tuesday.”

Tuesday. D-Day. Aka, the day we lost everything to the label.

Unless we could check our baggage at the door. But looking at the closed off faces of my friends, I wasn’t sure that was possible.

“Yeah, well I figured we had shit to talk about before then.”

Garrett nodded, the only friendly face in a less than friendly group.

“Uh, we’ll leave you guys to talk. Come on, Sophie,” Maysie said hurrying up the stairs. The Sophie girl gave Mitch a quick peck on the lips and followed Maysie.

That left me alone in a room with people who weren’t exactly happy to see me.

Jordan came out from behind his drum set to stand in front of me, his arms crossed over his chest. At least he wasn’t trying to punch me. I considered that progress.

“So. Talk.”

I wanted to tell Jordan where to shove his fucking attitude. That I wasn’t the only one with the problem. But I figured I could get to that later. Right now was for saying my piece.

“I shouldn’t have played the song. I’m sorry, all right. But there are more issues at hand then me playing a damn song we didn’t all agree on,” I reasoned, proud of how calm I was.

“I think that’s obvious, Cole,” Garrett piped up, putting his guitar back in the case. And then I was standing before my three bandmates. Me versus them. The way it had felt for months now.

“Why do I get the feeling that I’m gonna be jumped by the three of you?” I asked lightly.

Jordan and Mitch didn’t say anything but Garrett smirked.

“Why? Are we intimidating you?” Garrett asked.

“Hardly,” I snorted.

“So what issues do you see going on here?” Jordan questioned.

“You’re jealous. Plain and simple,” I stated. Mitch’s face turned red and Jordan clenched his fists, most likely imagining he was planting them in my face.

Garrett groaned. “Why did you have to go there? Things were starting off so well too?” he complained.

“I was getting the attention. The label wanted me to do the press. The interviewers wanted to talk to
me
. Primal Terror asked
me
on stage. I get it. I would have been pissed too if one of you was stealing the spotlight. Because that’s what I was doing. I was taking all the glory for myself and saying to fuck with all of you.”

I looked at each of them steadily. “And Jose thinks I can do better on my own. He wants me to get out of my contract with Pirate and sign with Deep Hill Records as a solo artist,” I informed them. Jordan’s eyes got wide and Mitch’s mouth fell open. Garrett’s face was a neutral and impassive as ever, though I could see the tension around his mouth.

“Deep Hill wants to sign you as a solo artist? And Jose told you to do it? I thought he was the band’s manager? Not Cole Brandt’s manager,” Jordan fumed.

“Yeah, well, I think Mr. Suarez has his own fucking agenda.”

“Apparently,” Mitch muttered.

“I’ve been a dick. But you guys have been dicks too,” I countered.

“Excuse the fuck me?” Jordan demanded.

“Are you going to stand there and tell me my ego was the only one that needed checking? That the fact that you weren’t the center of the fucking universe wasn’t a huge problem? I know that you’re used to being the big man on campus, Piper, but this time you weren’t. And that bugged the shit out of you.”

I purposefully used my old nickname for Jordan. I did it to push his buttons. I did it to test his limits. I wanted to see what he would do.

Jordan and I glared at each other for a long time, neither of us saying anything. The room was silent. I could hear the dripping from the leaking pipe in the corner.

I didn’t know whether he was going to hit me or not. I could tell he was thinking about it.

And then Garrett opened up his guitar case again and plugged his battered Yamaha into the amp. He strummed it a few times, playing the opening chords of Five Knuckles Deep, one of the first songs we had written together.

Mitch followed suit, picking up his bass, and plugging it into the other Marshall amp in the corner. His rhythm mixed with Garrett’s riffs.

Jordan and I stood there a while longer. There was a slight tick in his jaw. I was poised ready for an attack.

And then he was walking back towards his drum kit. He sat down and picked up his sticks, tapping out a steady beat in time to the music.

Garrett looked at me expectantly. “Well, I’m sure as hell not singing. Grab the mic and plug it in,” he said.

I stood there for a minute, not sure what to do. Did I want this?

I grabbed the mic stand and stood in my normal spot, front and center.

And then I was singing. And screaming. And yelling.

Maysie and Sophie came down a short time later, looking relieved that we were all still standing.

But I barely noticed them.

Because I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

I
stared at the clock, knowing that Cole and the rest of Generation Rejects were on their way to New York.

Not that I had heard that from Cole. Maysie had let me know she would be heading up with them. She and Jordan were planning to stay in New York for a few days after the meeting but she promised she’d be back in time for the gala on Saturday.

I hadn’t talked to Cole since I had kicked him out of my apartment on Sunday morning.

I had been so angry. The angriest I could ever remember being towards him. It was so much worse than finding him with another woman or being handcuffed to a bed and him losing the key.

He had told me he loved me.

While we were having sex.

And then he had the audacity to act as though he didn’t understand why I would have a problem with that.

It wasn’t so much the timing of the words themselves; it had more to do with the fact that I couldn’t trust myself once he had said them.