Page 107 of How to Be a Rockstar's Girlfriend

“What are you doing here?” I ask Indigo and Leia.

Indigo rolls her eyes. “She doesn’t get small town living.”

“Or maybe she doesn’t get having the nosiest woman in town think she’s her bestie,” Leia says.

Indigo holds up a finger. “One, I am her bestie.” She holds up another finger. “And, two, I can’t possibly be the nosiest woman in town when the gossip gals live here.”

“Mercy?” Virginia waves my phone at me. “It’s he whose name shall not be spoken. Do you want to listen to him grovel?”

I growl. Does Gibson actually think I’m going to listen to him? What a tool. “No. I already know every word he’s going to say. I’m not interested.”

“Don’t you want to give him a piece of your mind?” Leia asks.

Huh. Not a bad idea. There’s no reason for me to slink away all heartbroken. I’m not some forlorn heroine in a romance novel.

I hold out my hand. “Give me the phone.”

Indigo snatches it from Virginia before I can. “Gibson?”

I wave my hand at her and mouth give me the phone.

Indigo grins and shakes her head. “You’re stuck with me. Virginia is trying to calm Mercy down.”

“Whatever,” I mutter and stomp off to the bathroom where I wash my cut with some water and put a bandage on it.

“Let’s go.” Indigo motions to the door when I return to the garage.

“I have work to do.”

Basil steps out of his office. “Get out of here before you burn the place down.”

I scowl. “I wouldn’t burn this place down.” I just bought it. I haven’t even had a chance to get insurance yet.

He nods to my bandage. “I wouldn’t expect you to cut yourself either.”

I’m allowed to be a bit distracted the day after the man I love – the man I thought I’d spend my life with – breaks my heart. But I’m not going to tell him my sad story. I’ve spent my life working in garages with men. They don’t care about my ‘women’ troubles. I stick my tongue out at him instead.

“Seriously. Get out of here. This rebuild isn’t going to be finished today anyway.”

“Isn’t this your garage?” Leia asks. “Aren’t you the boss now?”

“My garage. Basil’s client.”

“Enough chitter chatter.” Indigo laces her arm through mine. “Let’s go.”

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“My house. And don’t worry. Cash won’t be there.”

“Where is he?” I ask because wherever Cash is, Gibson is, and I can’t help but wonder what he’s doing. Does he have the hangover of the century or is he already drinking again?

No, Mercy. Stop it. No thinking about rockstars and wondering how they’re doing. It’s no longer any of your business.

Indigo pats my arm. “I’ll explain later.”

Explain what? Now, I’m even more curious. Nope. I don’t care.

Indigo leads me toward the golfcart they must have ridden here. I aim for the driver’s seat but Virginia groans.

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