Page 26 of Enticing the Enforcer
“Seems like it worked,” Shelby says.
“Somehow that kiss turned into a full-on fake dating situationship, both of us using one another to get over past relationships,” Twyler says all of this like it makes perfect sense. “Then the fake stuff got more real, and now here we are.”
“Mine was worse. Axel and I had what we call an epic fuck up.” I raise an eyebrow urging Nadia to continue. “A one night stand, turned friends with benefits, turned relationship.” She shrugs. “The ‘epic fuck up’ turned out to be the best thing I ever did.”
“What about you and Reid,” I ask.
Shelby’s voice is softer, more careful. “I grew up in a really strict home. My parents had already arranged a relationship and marriage with a guy at my church. I realized things were moving too fast for me and I came East to stay with Axel for a while. The first night here I met Reid–”
“On Valentine’s Day,” Nadia adds, grinning wide. “He thought she was one of Axel’s former hook-ups coming for a booty call and kissed her.”
“He didn’t know who you were?” I ask.
“Nope.” Shelby shakes her head. “And I may have had something to do with the kiss. I did initiate it.”
“Damn,” I mutter. The good girl vibe on Shelby is strong. I can’t see her making a move like that. Although I was the one that kissed Jefferson first, so who am I to talk?
“Reid showed me that life didn’t have to look like what my parents had planned for me. That I could actually choose what and who I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.” Her cheeks flush pink. “He opened up my whole world.”
Their faces glow when they talk about these men and it’s like watching a living playlist of love songs I’ve written–except theirs are the kind that last, not the gossamer and fantasies I weave into lyrics. They’re talking about real, steady, still burning love even after the dopamine fades. I’ve never had that. I’ve only ever gotten the sugar rush version. Sweet, addictive, over too fast, and leaving me in pieces.
There’s a pause, then Shelby glances at me. “What about you? Are we going to talk about Jake or is that off limits?”
Normally, I’d laugh it off. Crack a joke. Redirect. But they’re all so open, so honest, it feels wrong not to tell the truth for once. They don’t need the backstory. That Jake’s a musician too. Different scene. Edgier. He wears all black and is covered in tattoos. My world is pink and glitter, his is heavy riffs and shadows.
“Some of the stuff you’ve heard is probably true. That we’d been drawn to each other forever, like suicidal moths to a combustible flame. An obvious match except for the fact that the timing never worked. Either he was taken, or I was. Then finally, last Christmas, we were both free. It should’ve beenperfect.” I twist the blanket in my lap, remembering. “The years of pent up tension building to this one moment. We were older, more mature, had more stability. Why not? Right?” The laugh that bubbles from my chest is humorless. “It was anything but perfect, though. All those daydreams of finally being together were quickly erased. He didn’t want me out in the world with him. We took separate exits from venues. Separate cars. He wanted me behind closed doors, which was fun in it’s own way. We spent a lot of time naked and he gave me everything, but when it came to daylight, to being seen together, he acted…distant. Disinterested. Embarrassed, even. Like I wasn’t the girl you claim in public, just the one you keep in your bed.”
My throat tightens, but the words are out there now.
“Turns out,” I continue, “he was talking to the media behind my back. Feeding them little crumbs–where we’d be, when I was leaving his apartment, even dumb things like what coffee I ordered. Making it look like we were sneaking around when in reality, he just didn’t want to be seen with me. It made him look like the mysterious bad boy who landed a pop princess. Free publicity for his concerts. For me, it was just humiliation.”
The girls are quiet. Not awkward quiet, just listening quiet.
“I think what hurt the most,” I swallow, “was realizing he wanted me naked in his bed, not by his side. Behind closed doors, he’d drown me in attention, but out in the world? He was embarrassed of me. Embarrassed of pink and sparkles, of bubblegum pop songs. He wanted to use me to burn brighter, not actually stand with me.” I shake my head. “Leaving him sucked. Really sucked. And keeping my mouth shut while the gossips dragged me, while his fans swallowed his version–that I wasn’t good enough, too career-obsessed, too shallow–it’s brutal. They think, that to me, he’s just, I don’t know… another hit song now. Another heartbreak on my setlist.”
“Let me tell you something, Ingrid, he’s not worth it,” Nadia says, leaning forward, her dark eyes flashing. “Ask me how I know.”
I glance at her, and the edge in her voice softens into something like solidarity. In an instant I feel it. Shedoesknow what it’s like to be used by a man. I give her a grateful little smile.
“Yeah,” Twyler says, hugging her pillow, “everyone knows Jake Merchant is a fucking poser.”
“His nose ring is fake,” I blurt.
“Oh my God,” Nadia howls. “That’s fucking hilarious.”
“Told you,” Twyler says smugly. “Total poser.”
Shelby watches all of this with wide eyes, until she tilts her head. “So what’s next then? Any new guys? An actor this time? Maybe one of those moody British ones?”
I laugh, shaking my head. “I think I’m holding off on dating anyone right now. Things are way too busy with the tour wrapping up. And honestly? I don’t think I can handle another relationship for a while.”
There’s a murmur of agreement, like they all get it. For the first time in a while, I feel lighter, but when I look back at Twyler her expression is wary.
“What?” I ask her.
“Since you’re being honest about musicians, please tell me the New Kings aren’t douchebags?”
I saw the tattoo on her upper thigh when she changed into pajama shorts. I know from experience the pride of someone getting a tattoo inspired by you that they are a major fan. “They’re pretty great actually. I got to see them play Coachella and it was pretty epic.”
