Midnight Blue
Silence.
“My appeal is in my mystery, you see.”
Rain started pouring down on us, seemingly out of nowhere. Tropical weather. Short sleeves and a downpour. He tilted his head to the other side of the promenade.
“Come, Stardust. The night is young and full of promise.”
We rolled to the parking lot, dripping and laughing.
And I decided not to ask Alex Winslow any personal questions, just to keep my sanity at bay.
A nother show.
Another hit.
Blake speculated that the YouTube video’s views of “Secondhand Love” that had been leaked from Japan were so high, whoever had posted it was making twenty grand a day from ads alone. Not gonna lie, writing a great song numbed the notion of being categorically defective as a human being, and for a day there, I’d even forgotten about Fallon and Will and revenge and the champagne— side note: the latter sat in the back of my mind the whole time. I didn’t even like champagne. Getting pissed, though, was another story.
When I got off the stage, I rushed to the dressing room, disregarding the shambolic queue of staff and local celebrities milling around trying to get a moment with me. I threw the door open and collapsed right on top of Indie, who was sitting on a silver sofa, sewing.
“Alex, gross! Get off my fabric.” She pushed my chest, but there was laughter in her voice.
I climbed atop of her like a monkey and tickled her armpits—and what do you know? Indie Bellamy was ticklish. She squirmed and made the most fuckable sounds, making me want to stuff my fingers into her mouth and take out those little sounds and put them in my pocket.
“Off, off, you caveman, off!” That hint of a giggle bloomed into a full-blown laugh.
Something had changed. We’d changed. She’d melted a little, and I wanted to shove off the ice and see what was underneath. Alfie, Blake, and Lucas walked through the door, watching us from the threshold, mesmerized. It thrilled me, the look on Lucas’ face. I didn’t even need to lift my head to see it to know it was there. He was hurting. Not in the way I was hurting when he’d booked the hotel for Will and Fallon under his name so they could fuck when I was still with her, but still.
“Make me,” I growled into her face, so close I could see every individual, orange freckle peppered across her nose.
“This is sexual harassment.” She laughed breathlessly.
“Don’t embarrass yourself.” I pinned her to the sofa, my crotch on hers, my lips on her cheek so only she could hear me. “I bet if I slide my fingers up that fancy dress of yours and push your knickers aside, I’m going to find you so soaked and ready for me, it would take me an hour to lick you dry.”
Her body stiffened beneath me, and I elevated my upper body, glancing down at her. Her blue eyes were so wide and curious. I wondered if she was a virgin. Indie with another guy. I couldn’t picture it, and not because I was attached or some sentimental crap along those lines. She just seemed too reserved. Too proper.
“Alex,” she warned, too afraid to move underneath me, knowing my erection was dangerously close to her cunt.
It was crazy, but this was perfect. This . Me on top of her. The only things between us were fabric and the idiots watching us from across the room. Her body was humming, and I could feel it beneath me, struggling between lust and logic. I lowered my face to hers when some cocksucker grabbed me by the belt loop and yanked me away from her.
“Get off her, you wanker,” Lucas barked. When I turned around, he looked pink and pissed, not unlike Babe the pig. “You’re out of control!”
“So is she.” I fished for my cigarette pack in my back pocket and lit one up, blowing smoke into his face. “It’s called passion. You wouldn’t recognize it if it pissed directly into your mouth.”
“You’re such a twat, you know that?”
“Know it, live it. Sorry, Saint Lucas. Not all of us can maintain such high moral standards.”
“Alex!” Indie scolded.
Fine. I shut up.
The ride to the hotel was wordless. Indie looked out the window, Lucas looked at me, Blake looked at his phone, and Alfie looked at his watch.
“I’m expecting three fans in half an hour. Think we’ll make it in time?” The latter poked his lower lip out.
Everyone groaned, and I threw the blue pick he’d thrown at me in L.A. right at his face.
He laughed. “Oh, we’ve come full circle now.”
In the hallway, I flat out collapsed by my door, watching Indie do the same. It was past midnight, and everyone went to their rooms. Lucas knew better than to push me by loitering around her. Indie had her cloth duffel bag, with a patched dress stuffed into it, the one she’d been working on backstage.
I plucked the notepad and Sharpie out of Tania’s case and stared up at my muse, waiting for her to feed me spoonfuls of her soul.
Knowing I didn’t deserve her.
Knowing she didn’t deserve this .
Knowing how fucked everything was, but not being able to stop, because I wanted revenge, and an album, and solace. And Indie? She would get her money—hell, I might even throw in a couple more hundred grand to sweeten the deal for her—and I’d be to her what I was to so many others. A good story to tell her mates when she was piss-drunk at a hen party. I fucked a rock star once, and it was great .
“What’re you working on?” I jutted my chin to her bag.
She grinned.
“What?”
“Nothing. It’s just that you’re the only person who asks me stuff. Most people just tell me things, you know?”
“Well, you’re not utterly boring, and you’re here, so you might as well spit it out.”
“A dress. For Paris. My favorite city in the entire world.”
“I thought you’d never been on a plane before?”
“I hadn’t!” She batted her eyelashes and did some little girly-claps, looking so utterly ridiculous, it was almost endearing.
“Looks patchy,” I observed. There were white and pink and cream patches sewn together deliberately out of order. Like a patchwork blanket.
She fingered the fabric with her thin fingers. “It’s a little ugly. Isn’t it beautiful?”
It was my turn to smirk. I strummed my fingers on Tania.
“You find ugly things pretty? Tell me more.”
What she said came out in one breath. Like she’d been waiting to tell me this. Waiting for our midnight date.