Sweet Renegade (6 page)

“I gotta head out, Regina, thank you for your hospitality. I hope to see you again soon,” I say.

Regina turns around. “You’re not gonna stay for breakfast? I’m making chocolate chip pancakes,” she says.

“As tempting as that sounds, I really have to get to the airport and get home,” I say graciously, giving Regina a hug.

“Alright, sweetie, have a good flight,” Regina says reluctantly.

“Tell Beau goodbye for me,” I say and start for the door. “Bye Kaden, bye Leila.”

Kaden lifts a hand without looking up and Leila calls out a “See ya!” after me, and I rush out the front door, down the porch steps. I make it to my rental and toss my bags on the front passenger seat. I’m just about to climb into the driver’s seat when a hand grabs my elbow and spins my around. I gasp at a frowning Beau.

“Were you really gonna leave without saying goodbye to me?” Beau asks, his tone hard.

I can see the hurt and disappointment swirling in his blue eyes. He’s wearing only a pair of jeans and flip-flops. His brown hair is a mess and his stubble is thicker than ever.
Damn him and his rugged handsomeness!

“Shit,” I mutter and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Yes,” I admit reluctantly.

Beau suddenly relinquishes his hold on my elbow, making me stumble slightly. “Damn, Lizzie, that’s cold,” he rasps.

I look up at him, hating the way he is looking at me. “How many times do I have to tell you not to call me ‘Lizzie’?” I snap. That nickname is reserved for my brother and boyfriends.

“Why can’t I call you ‘Lizzie’?” Beau asks seriously.

“Because it suggests a level of comfort and intimacy that we don’t share. I am your manager, nothing else, it’s unprofessional to call me by a nickname,” I say, keeping my voice firm and steady.

“So was kissing me considered professional then?” Beau asks bitterly.

“
You
kissed
me
, not the other way around,” I inform him.

“Yeah well, you
let
me kiss you…twice. And do I have to remind you about what happened in the hallway? I would say we’ve gotten pretty intimate,” Beau grunts, crossing his arms over his large and muscular bare chest.

Did the man ever wear a shirt? Christ!

I feel the heat rise up my face from both embarrassment and anger. Angry at myself for letting all of that happen in the first place and anger toward Beau for throwing it back in my face. I don’t bother responding because really, what can I say? I just get into the car and slam the door shut, starting the engine and driving away. I glance in the rearview mirror and see Beau angrily bang his fist on the hood of the beat up blue pickup truck that had been parked next to me.

I sigh. I will not let him get to me. He can be mad all he wants. Maybe it will help him get over his little crush. He still has three days before having to come back to New York. Hopefully by then he will have cooled down and things can get back to normal, or as normal as possible.

I go right from JFK airport to my office at Big Time Inc., who provides managers not only for musicians but also for actors, dancers, and writers. When I get there, Danielle hands me a stack of messages at least an inch thick. I can only gape at it. Danielle winces and promises to bring me a cup of coffee. I go into my private bathroom and freshen up some. I redo my makeup and brush out my hair before pulling it back into a bun at the back of my neck. Thank god I’ve left extra clothes here, just in case. I change into my spare outfit then go out to tackle the pile from hell.

Every message is in regards to either Renegade’s promotional tour or their world tour. It takes me hours to get back to everyone who has called. Once that is all taken care of, I go over a few contracts that have been faxed over before calling it a day and heading home.

I walk in my front door, kick off my shoes, and drop my keys in the bowl on the console table. I head into the living room and plop down on the couch next to Denny. He chuckles at me and drapes his arm around my shoulders.

“Hey there, Lizzie. Doing okay?” he asks.

I rest my head on my shoulder. “I’m beat.”

“Long couple of days, huh? How was West Virginia?”

“Green…really, really green,” I mutter.

Denny hums. “And how was Beau?”

“I don’t want to talk about him,” I grumble.

Dennis nudges me with his shoulder, making my head bounce. “Come on, now, you know you can talk to me. What happened?”

I groan and lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees before dropping my face into my hands. “He kissed me, Denny.”

“And?”

“It was incredible,” I whisper, hating to even admit that out loud.

“Okay, so why is that bothering you?” he asks, placing a comforting hand on my back.

“Because I wanted it to suck!” I huff, pushing to my feet to pace the floor in front of the coffee table. “I don’t want to like him; I don’t want to want him!” I whine.

“Why not? I don’t understand what your beef is with him,” Denny says, shaking his head in confusion.

“Denny, he’s seven years younger than me -
seven
. Say we get together and we’re going good for however long and then suddenly he realizes that…oh shit, my girlfriend is old…I’m Beau Kennedy - I can get any girl I want, I don’t want this thirty-five year old when I can have a twenty-five year old,” I say, lowering my voice mockingly, while waving my arms around as I talk.

“Ahhh, so that’s what you’re afraid of. You think he would eventually trade you in for a younger model,” he says in understanding then leans back against the couch as he crosses his arms over his chest, his green eyes follow me as I pace.

“Among other things. He is still my client. I can’t jeopardize my relationship with the group, they are my only clients at the moment and I have my hands full with them as it is. It would be a huge loss for not only me but also Big Time Inc. if they fire me. Plus, I don’t want him to ever find out about mom and dad, that shit is mortifying enough.”

Denny nods in understanding. “You like him, though, don’t you?”

I sigh heavily. “Yeah, I guess. I mean, I felt things when he kissed me that I’ve never felt with anyone else. And god knows he is handsome and built,” I say, fanning myself at the memory of him in just his briefs and nothing else.

“I think you should give him a chance.” Dennis shrugs.

“No! Not gonna happen! Too many things can go wrong and it’s not worth the risk.” I shake my head fervently; I will not give in. Not now, not ever.

Dennis rolls his eyes. “You’re impossible.”

Chapter Four

*
Beau*

I still to this day can’t figure out how people find me. I had no problem flying into West Virginia; I kept a low profile wearing a baseball cap pulled down low and sunglasses, and I rented a car and drove to my mother’s ranch by myself. My bodyguard followed me to make sure that I got there okay, but once I was behind the gates of the ranch, he left, staying in town at a hotel for the remainder of the trip. Now, I’m back in New York, surrounded at baggage claim. My bodyguard, Rob, has to call in airport security and NYPD to help control the crowd. I start signing autographs and taking pictures to help calm the screaming mob of girls and women. Rob keeps me moving though and we eventually make it out to the waiting SUV.

I get in the backseat while Rob sits up front with the driver, we have a police escort away from the airport. Once the police deem it safe, they back off. I sigh, staring out the window. I miss home and my family already, but I love my life and am grateful for all of the fans that love me. My mind strays to Lizette once again. She’s been on my mind since she left me high and dry a few days ago.

Every time I close my eyes, I go back to when we were in the hallway where I got a chockfull of her ass. Oh man, what an ass she has. I’m not a complete prude; I’ve done everything with a girl with the exception of intercourse. Not a lot, but enough to know how to please a woman. Oh, how I want to please Lizette. I want to make her scream my name. Aaand… I need to stop thinking about everything I want to do to her if I want to go at least an hour without a hard-on.

We pull into the parking garage of the condo building where I reside when I’m in New York. I have a few places that I’ve bought. I have my condo in New York, a beachfront home in Miami, Florida, and a cabin in Aspen, Colorado.

I take the private elevator that can only be accessed with a code, up to my condo on the twentieth floor. Rob follows close behind as we walk down the hall to my door. I enter, letting Rob in behind me. He has been my personal bodyguard for a couple of years now, and we’ve become pretty close friends in that time. He is monster of a man, standing six feet five inches, a mixture of fat and muscle. The dude is just built to be a bodyguard.

“You’ve been awfully quiet, my man, what’s going on?” Rob asks.

“Nothin’, just got a lot on my mind,” I mumble, setting my suitcases at the mouth of the hallway that leads to my bedroom, office, guest bedroom, and bathroom.

“You sure?” Rob asks, eyeing me suspiciously.

I nod. Rob doesn’t need to know about the kiss. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Alright, then I’m gonna head out. You’re not planning on going anywhere tonight, right?”

“Nah, I’m stayin’ in, got an early start tomorrow,” I reply.

“No shit, five am wake up is not one of the perks of this job.” Rob snorts.

I smirk. “No, it isn’t. I’ll see you in the morning,” I say, walking Rob to the door.

“Yep, later dude.”

I flop down onto my plush brown leather sofa and rub my face. I pull out my cell phone and unlock it. I pull up Lizette’s number and stare at it, debating on whether or not to hit call. What is the point in calling her? She won’t come over if I ask her to. I’m not going to apologize for kissing her because I’m going to do is again as soon as I get the chance. She probably won’t answer my call anyway. I exit her number and call Roland instead.

“Hey man, I wasn’t sure if you were going to be back in time,” Roland answers with a chuckle.

“Lizette came to tell me about the shortened vacay,” I murmur.

“Oh yeah? How’d that go?” Roland asks curiously.

“I kissed her,” I admit.

“Aw, hell,” Roland groans. “Is she still our manager?”

“Yes, dickhead,” I snap in response.

“Don’t tell me that you two are together now,” Roland says skeptically.

“No, she’s very adamant that there will never be anything between us.”

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re not in agreement with that?”

“Because I’m not. Man, she practically melted in my arms, even kissed me back…twice. She wants me, she just doesn’t want to admit it,” I say.

The memory of her naked ass in my hands makes me have to shift in my seat to accommodate the growing erection in my pants.

Roland sighs on the other end of the phone. “Maybe you should just let her be. We need her, Beau, and I don’t think it’s in the group’s best interest for you to chase her and possibly fuck up our business relationship.”

I frown hard. That is one response that I didn’t expected Roland to say. I thought my band mate and best friend would be supportive and give me advice on how to get the girl, not tell me that I could possibly cause them to lose their manager. What the hell?

“Beau, I know that’s not what you want to hear, but this crush you have on Lizette…” Roland starts.

“It’s more than a crush, Roland,” I grunt.

“…It could cost us a lot if the shit hits the fan. You don’t bite the hand that feeds you. There are plenty of other women out there that would love to be with you, Beau. I know Taylor Swift has mentioned that she’s got a thing for you.”

My usually non-existent temper flares to life. “Fuck Taylor fucking Swift! I want a woman, not a whiny little girl who’s gonna write a nasty breakup song about me! And thanks for nothing Roland, I thought you would back me up on this!” I shout angrily into the phone before hanging up on my best friend. Fucker.

I toss my phone onto the couch cushion next to me. Man, I really want to hit something right now. I shove to my feet and head to my office to check my email. I need to do something to take his mind off what Roland said. I sit down at my desk and turn on my computer, pulling up my email. Holy shit! My inbox is completely full, which means that I have two thousand emails; it’s most likely a mixture of fan and hate mail. I skim the subject lines to see if anything catches my eye that I might actually want to respond to.

I respond to one hundred emails, all of which were from fans exclaiming their love for me. I write something personal and different for each one. I scan a little more and freeze when I see Lizette’s email address. My heart suddenly picks up speed as I open her email.

Beau,

I’m sorry for being such a bitch to you the other day. It’s been eating at me since I left and I felt the need to apologize. Don’t think this changes anything between us, though, because it doesn’t. We are friends and I want to remain that way. See you soon.

Sincerely,

Lizette

I read her email over and over. I’m shocked that she apologized. I never thought in a million years that she would have apologized to me. She is not the kind of woman who admits her mistakes often. I’m hopeful that maybe she does feel something for me and that’s why she felt the need to apologize. I can’t see this just being purely professional. I get up and go back into the living room to get my phone. I pull up her number and hit call before I can change my mind.

The phone rings three times before she picks up. “Please tell me that you are back in New York and not stuck in West Virginia,” she answers without so much as a hello.

“I’m in New York,” I reply.

“Thank God. Is everything okay? Why are you calling me?” she asks, sounding slightly concerned.

“I just read your email.”

“Oh,” she murmurs softly.

“I accept your apology,” I say quietly.

“That’s good,” she whispers.

“There is just one problem with it.” I sigh, knowing she’s going to hate what I have to say.

“What’s that?” she asks hesitantly.

“You know I don’t want to be just friends with you,” I say, my voice lowering to a husky growl as thoughts of the kisses we shared pop into my head.

I hear Lizette sigh heavily on the other end. “Please, Beau, I’m begging you, just stop.”

Pain slices into my heart. “I can’t, Lizette, not when you’re all I can think about. I thought I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you before we kissed, but now…now that I know what it’s like to have you in my arms, I’m not going to let you get away without a fight,” I promise her.

“Beau,” she says, her voice pained. “Just because we kissed doesn’t mean that I feel anything for you. You’re a gorgeous guy with a hot body, but I don’t feel anything more for you and never will.”

My chest tightens at her harsh words. “I refuse to believe that,” I rasp.

“I gotta go, Beau, I’m not going to argue with you,” she says wearily and hangs up on me.

I fight the urge to smash my phone into a million pieces. Why is she fighting our obvious attraction to each other? I still think that she is lying. Actions speak louder than words, and the way that she clutched at my T-shirt and pulled me closer when we kissed, told me that she wanted me. Women who don’t want the man kissing them do not kiss them back like they are the last man on earth. When I see her tomorrow, I am going to call her out on her lying and prove to her that she does want me.

*Lizette*

I so do not want to see Beau today. After our conversation last night, I feel raw and exposed. He has the ability to see right through me and it isn’t a good thing. I have to keep him at a distance today and not get caught alone with him. I have the feeling that is exactly what he’s going to try and do, get me alone. I will be completely helpless if that happens because I have been thinking about him nonstop since I left him in the dust of my rental car, and I’ve been dreaming about him every night. He is starting to break me down, but I’m not going down without a long, hard fight.

I am already at the
Good Morning America
studio when the guys arrive. They get rushed right into hair and makeup. They are going to be interviewed and also perform the newest single off their new album. I chat with the two anchors that are going to be interviewing the guys, and we go over what can and can’t be asked. Once they are clear and in agreement, I reluctantly go find the guys.

They are all sitting in a dressing room backstage. My eyes land on Everett first; he is color coordinating a bowl of M&M’s on the coffee table in front of the couch. I frown at his pre-show ritual; I’m guessing that it helps calm him. Dean is standing in front of a mirror, fixing his hair, a scowl on his face; apparently, he doesn’t like what the hairstylist did to it. Ace is sprawled on a chaise lounge, unlit cigarette dangling between his lips as he does whatever on his iPhone. Roland and Beau are standing off in a corner talking quietly but heatedly with each other.

Beau looks good…really good. He’s wearing a blue plaid short-sleeved cowboy style button down shirt tucked into his dark blue jeans. No hat today but he is wearing his cowboy boots. He’s left some scruff on his face, making him look older and more gorgeous, if that’s even possible. I like facial hair on men. Everett is the first one to notice me.

“Oh, hey, Lizette,” he greets me with a smile.