Free Groupie/Rock Star Bundle by Ginger Voight Page A

bathroom.
    I glared at him momentarily from the door. “Go
home to your girlfriend,” I spat, and then slammed the door behind
me. Once inside I slid all the way down to the floor to use my body
weight to barricade it should he try to force his way
in.
    Strangely, I wanted him to. I wanted him to
tell me that there was a misunderstanding, and he and Lourdes
weren’t serious enough to actually live together. It was a
hallucination… a nightmare. Anything but the stinging reality that
I was nothing more than just a notch on his belt, a conquest to
boost his ego while his beautiful girlfriend lay in their bed
unaware.
    In their bed, I thought again, with my throat
closing like a vice. Where they made love – something I very nearly
almost tasted, and my body still wanted to spite it all.
    My chest burned with all the emotion
I couldn’t release, because I wasn’t about to let him hear me
cry.
    He was as easily my conquest as I
was his; the only difference was I hadn’t lied to him.
    Minutes later I heard him walk
across the floor and pause briefly in front of the bathroom. If he
thought about begging for mercy through the door he reconsidered. I
heard the outer door click behind him.
    Then, and only then, did I finally let that
first teardrop fall.
    The next morning Iris mercifully let me sleep
in until 10:00 a.m. When she called I really did have a migraine
from all the crying I did just hours before in an empty, rumbled
bed that still smelled of his cologne. I squeezed my eyes shut. I
had to quit thinking about it, but I feared there would be no rest
for the wicked.
    “Who is your favorite person in the
whole world?” she chirped gaily in my ear.
    “You are,” I muttered. “I think.”
    “I know you had another late night
so I’ve reduced your day to a couple of hours in the afternoon,
maximum.”
    “I don’t want to go to the studio,” I told her.
I already had all the interviews with the band. The only thing left
was my interview with Lourdes to find out how wonderfully glorious
her new romance was with the man of my dreams.
    I was perfectly okay postponing that as far off
as possible, thank you very much.
    Iris, however, had other plans.
    “Nothing so strenuous,” she assured. “You’re
meeting Vanni and Lourdes for lunch to complete your
interviews.”
    I nearly choked. It was worse than I
thought.
    “Both of them? That sounds
complicated for all involved,” I said.
    “Everyone has to eat,” she replied.
    “She eats?” I quipped, which was met with brief
silence on the other line.
    “Are you okay, Andy?” she asked, and
I could tell her concern was sincere.
    “Another headache,” I dismissed truthfully.
“Too much champagne.”
    She seemed to buy my excuse, or at the very
least didn’t call bullshit on it. She proceeded to give me the
details of when and where to meet the new lovebirds so I could
dictate in black and white how fabulously in love they
were.
    I was thrilled. Truly.
    I ended up wearing more makeup than I was used
to; it was necessary to mask the dark shadows under my eyes and the
blotchy complexion. Once I started applying the mask I couldn’t
stop, and ended up looking more like a girl than I really
intended.
    It wasn’t to compete with her, but to show
Vanni that I was perfectly fine about our aborted lovemaking. I
dressed in warm layers, hiding the cleavage I was no longer sure he
deserved to see – not that it would have made much difference
anyway. He made his choice the minute he moved in with a South
American goddess so pretty I ceased to be a female in her
presence.
    Then I thought about how he held me, how he
kissed me. I remembered the look in his eyes as he whispered that
he had dreamed about us being together. I remembered the contours
of his body, which showed undeniable, rock-solid proof he found me
desirable. Until I threw him out he was ready to ignore the call of
said goddess to be with me.
    It still didn’t make sense, not in my fevered
little brain.