Free The Complete Groupie Trilogy by Ginger Voight Page A

“You live with her?”
    “Andy…” he started but I had already grabbed the blanket at the end of the bed to wrap around myself. What a fool I had been. Had I really believed that this night was mine to steal?
    “I think you should go,” I said.
    “Let me explain,” he begged as he reached out for me again, but I was already off the b ed and halfway to the 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 diffe rence 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 t he 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 ch irped 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 choke d. It was worse than I thought.
    “Both of them? That sounds complic ated 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 coul d 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