Page 113 of Rebel

I don’t even notice Trav get up, too busy laughing at Kolton, until I feel eyes on me and turn. “Trav.” I grin, ready to tell him what we were just saying, when I see the woman on his arm.

Not just any woman, Reign fucking Harrow.

I’m not dumb. I know he went to meet her that night I couldn’t find him. I even know they used to fuck. Chase told me ages ago. I never brought it up because let’s face it, I had my own secrets, but now with everything out in the open and us being together, seeing him touching her fills me with a bitter feeling I hate.

She’s beautiful. Reign Harrow always has been, and tonight is no different. Her hair is curled at the bottom, and one side is braided back to show a tattooed, pierced ear. Her makeup is artful but grungy, and her plump lips shine with gloss. She’s smaller than me, curvier too, and she’s wearing a translucent dress that makes me feel very insecure for a moment. She’s fucking stunning, and from the way she stands, she knows it. I stare before looking away. There are four men gathered behind her, but I don’t spare them another look, my eyes dropping to her hand on his arm. “And Reign Harrow, Trav’s booty call, I mean friend.” Shit, mortification fills me at that slip-up.

Fuck, fuck, I blame the alcohol heating my system for that.

Any other time, I would be overjoyed. Reign Harrow was always on repeat on my playlists—hell, she still is. Nobody in this world has a voice like hers, not to mention I always liked the way she handled shit. She’s a boss, and I just insulted her.

Fuck.

Luckily, she just laughs, a natural, happy sound, and her eyes sparkle with amusement as I wait for the ax to fall. I feel Trav watching me, no doubt worried and annoyed since he never told me explicitly about them hooking up. I’ll get it later, that’s for sure. “Not a booty call anymore,” she replies kindly. “Just friends. You are the infamous Beck. It’s nice to finally meet you, and I’m glad you fuckers got rid of that snooty bitch before. She was a good singer but a horrible person.”

“So I’ve heard.” I wince at the mention of my sister, not wanting to admit the truth, but knowing Reign didn’t like my sister? Yeah, it hurts. “I’m sorry. I didn’t?—”

I start, needing to apologize. I don’t want her as an enemy, plus Trav seems friendly with her. I don’t want to be the petty, jealous girlfriend.

“It’s fine,” she promises softly, squeezing Trav’s arm and letting go with a pointed look at me. “How about we get a drink?”

I blink at the offer but nod, glancing at Chase, Kolton, and Trav, who sit down, but they wave me on. Chase gives me a wink. Brilliant. Blowing out a breath, I head her way, feeling nervous. She moves to the bar, and I follow her, almost hanging my head. Shit, this is so fucked up. I stop next to her, and she watches me carefully.

“Look, let me be blunt.” I sigh, knowing where this is going. I need to apologize. I fucked up. “I hate cat fights and jealousy. I’m not the type. It wasn’t cool for me to call you a booty call. The guys love you. They say you’re the coolest and that you’re friends. I care about them and the band, so I think we should get along,” I tell her, hoping she will forgive me enough to accept the olive branch.

My jealousy isn’t grounded. Trav has a past just like I do. It was just seeing it flaunted before me that made me slip up, but that was messed up, and she seems nice. They are important to me, so I don’t want to fight with their friends.

She smiles brightly, and my heart skips at the look she gives me, as if my world revolves around her. Shit, no wonder she’s so famous. She has that look down. “I like that. I appreciate getting straight to the point. I hate word games and backstabbing. I’ve had enough to last a lifetime.” There’s something in her tone that makes me look at her harder.

She seems tired and drained.

It’s then I remember all the shit that went down before she came back—her friends sold her out, even her ex. I bet she hates backstabbing because so many have done that to her. She seems like the type to forgive time and time again, and it clearly didn’t do her any good. I remember the articles. She is just a woman who has been crucified over and over by people she trusted.

I can understand that, and I feel sorry for her. I can’t imagine what she had to go through. She’s the top of our game, and she’s the best, but pure talent isn’t enough. She’s all alone as a solo singer, so she doesn’t have the guys at her back, and her every move is scrutinized and picked apart. I’ve only seen snippets of that since I’ve been with the guys, and I can’t imagine living that life for years.

Part of me feels sorry for her, and part of me is angry on her behalf.

Shit, I like her.

“I saw. Want me to cut a bitch?” I offer, and when she laughs, I can’t help but smile. She’s just so fucking normal. I don’t know what I was expecting, maybe a stuck-up woman. Most rich people or people with talent like hers use it as a weapon. They know it, and they carry themselves a certain way, but if I didn’t know her name, she could be anyone I met at a normal bar. I like that.

“No wonder they like you.” She gives me a wide grin. “Look, yes, I’ve slept with Trav.”

I swallow back my jealousy, as irrational as it is. “That’s none of my business.” It really isn’t. What happened in the past is just that, his past, plus we haven’t gone public. I’m just their bandmate to her. “We are just friends, bandmates.”

“Sure.” She nods, a knowing twinkle in her eye. “But we haven’t hooked up in a long time. I called him when I was lonely and hurt, but we didn’t do anything. I promise. I’m in a happy relationship with someone else, just don’t spill that. I like my privacy now. So how about we start again? Hi, I’m Reign.” She sticks out her hand, grinning as I blink.

Knowing she’s in a relationship shouldn’t make me feel better, but it does, and I vow never to let anyone know what she told me. Her life is just that, hers, and I would hate for someone to spill my secrets, so as I stare into her friendly eyes, I promise to be a good friend to her.

She seems like she needs one, but I could also use a friend like that. Everyone could.

“Hi, I’m Beck.” I smile wider. “Nice to meet you. In fact, I even had your poster on my wall, so I’m kind of starstruck. I was worried about comparing?—”

“No comparison here,” she promises, squeezing my hand in a comforting way. “Talent is talent. The guys brought you on, and they are the best. They obviously see that in you, so I have no doubt you’re amazing.” She glances at the bustling party. “And this? This world takes some getting used to.”

“Tell me about it,” I grumble. Accepting a shot, I shoot it back and grab a beer. “Want to know a secret?” Something about Reign instantly puts me at ease. I can’t explain it. “When I auditioned, I was working at a restaurant. I was a nobody. This is a lot to get used to. Does it ever get easier?”

“No,” she whispers. “But you find people who make it worthwhile and learn how to use it for your best interests.”

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