Page 5 of Stuck with a Billionaire Rockstar

“Could you take this more seriously?” Ryker hisses. “This doesn’t only affect you, Brent. It falls on each and every one of us. Your shit is becoming a burden, and I’m afraid of what’s going to happen if it continues.” I know what he’s getting at. Although I’m the lead singer of Raising Havoc, each of them could very well vote to have me kicked out of the band.

Could I blame them?

The smirk I’m sporting falls, and silence fills the space surrounding Ryker and me. He’s not wrong; I should be more worried about the situation than I am. “I didn’t mean for all this to happen, man. I didn’t want you stressing over something like this.”

“Just get your shit figured out, Brent,” Ryker mumbles before heading toward the spiral staircase that leads to his floor of the house.

We’ve got four floors here, which is crazy, and luckily, I’m the one who resides on the first one. Each of our styles is showcased throughout the place – mine is full of black and white, Ryker’s got famous paintings hanging on the walls of the second floor, while Donny sports a more vibrant color scheme that matches his clothing choices. Evan is a little different. He’s the more practical of the four of us, always desperate to do whatever he feels will save us the most money, so that means he’s got a floor full of thrift items that are always piling up.

I head down the long hallway that leads to my room and push the door open, my eyes immediately moving toward the balcony that overlooks the vibrant city life below. All the lights shine beautifully, reminding me why I love it here, but it only ends up being overshadowed by the rumors everyone has to spill about me.

Getting in bed with a married woman.

I’ve always been careful when taking women onto our tour bus and having my way with them – none have ever had a ring on their finger to indicate their current marriage. It could’ve easily been a fluke, though. Maybe one of the women decided to forgo her wedding ring and act as though she didn’t have an obligation to another man at home. I shake my head and frown.

There’s no way I did what they’re saying.

It’s not the first time their information would be incorrect. A lot of my career has been spent with Mack handling my image, and the majority of those times were false – a way to hinder my reputation. There’s this odd stereotype when it comes to rock stars that we like nothing more than to get in bed with any woman who notices us, and I’m only assuming that’s why the media feels the need to shine a light on that with me.

I don’t know what Mack has planned for damage control, but hopefully, he will figure it out quickly before things escalate even further.

Which reminds me.

It would probably be best if I hurry up and get tickets on the same flight as Mallory and her little friend, Julia. They’ve got no clue I’m going to be there as well, but it’s better than being stuck in this place with cameras following my every move. The last time something close to this happened, I couldn’t even relax in our backyard without cameras shuttering every five seconds.

A break might be good for me anyway, especially before we start off our world tour.

***

“I still think this is a bad idea,” Evan says over the phone.

“Noted.”

“I’m sure all this could’ve been fixed with a simple post that stated her husband’s allegations are wrong.”

I roll my eyes and huff as I lift my luggage from the back of the swanky SUV that picked me up from the airport. “Sure, then prepare for the next scandal to arise.” He knows as much as everyone else that this wasn’t the first, and it sure wouldn’t end up being the last. “My sister’s here, and I have to go.” Before he can respond, I quickly end the call and shove my phone back into the pocket of my jeans.

I lied. Mallory still hasn’t made it here or knows that I’m interrupting their girl's trip, but I’m hoping the upgraded seats to first class and the limo driver waiting for them at baggage claim will help ease her anger at seeing me here today. I knew she would immediately deny me tagging along, which is why I thought the best course of action was a surprise approach.

What can she do, kick me out if she doesn’t want me to be here?

I’ve got a pair of sunglasses perched at the top of my head that I pull over my eyes, blocking the blaring morning sun from stinging them, and squeeze through the plethora of guests heading toward the front entrance. The resort looks like most, with a couple men standing outside the doors with a blank expression on their face other than to see where someone’s vehicle needs to go, and the inside looks like a greenhouse with how many plants are scattered around.

There’s a long line leading to the reception desk, so I place my bags on the floor next to me and lean against one of the long pillars that hold the ceiling above our heads. A group of girls ahead look at me over their shoulder before giggling and whispering to the others standing in front of them. I can’t exactly blame them, I didn’t do much in terms of hiding my appearance because the effort seemed like too much.

Maybe I should’ve thought better of that.

Another worker walks behind the counter and starts another line, one that I get into. Then everything starts going faster. Within minutes, there’s only one person in front of me to check in, and I’m grateful for the quick help provided by the employee.

The woman behind the counter flashes me a welcome smile, brightening her features, and it slips for a split second before her cheeks flare up. She rubs her eyes, blinks a few times, then shakes her head at me. “Are… Are you Brent from Raising Havoc?”

I smile at her politely and place the luggage at my side, tapping my fingers along the handle in tune with the music echoing through the speakers above us. “I am.”

There’s a good reason I chose this resort to stay on, other than the fact that Mallory and Julia are going to be here, and that’s the simple fact of them having a policy that restricts their guests from invading celebrities that stay on their resort. If any of the guests blab about my whereabouts, causing paparazzi to show up, it will hinder their chances of ever being able to come back to the resort in the future.

Essentially, my being here and at the resort is good because I can still lie low even if some people recognize me.

She beams at my answer, then leans forward so I can get a good look at what she’s hiding underneath her shirt. If it weren’t for the throat clearing behind my back, I would’ve rejected her advances, but I don’t have the time.

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