Rock Star Returns: Carlie's Story (Access All Areas 2)

"You're going to say that I'm making a big mistake and that I should be careful. That Holden was a big cheating bastard in the past and that a man-whore leopard doesn't change his spots that easily. That I'm stupid and need to watch my back or I'll be hurt again, only this time will be even worse, I'll be hurt so bad that I'll end up a big mess that needs to be scraped up off the floor and put back together to become anywhere near functional."

I sighed.

"Actually, I was going to say that if Holden makes you happy, maybe he deserves a second chance. He seems to be really crazy over you. Maybe those things you thought I was going to say are things you are telling yourself."

Damn her

. That made too much sense. I didn't need that kind of analysis of my love life. I'd fallen into her trap.

"We have no future," I said.

"You don't know that. If you'd asked me a short while ago, I'd have told you that Razer and I had nothing together and look how that changed. You have to open yourself up to possibilities."

"Actually, I did ask you and you said just that but, just because you have the happy-happy love juice going through you, doesn't mean everyone else is going to get what they want."

"I think you have plenty of happy-happy love juice going through you, yourself. You are using condoms, right?"

I nodded. Even after Shun saying that Holden didn't screw around anymore, I wasn't putting myself at risk. I'd need more than his say so.

Holden said he had a phone-in interview at 6.00 and he'd come into the bar after that. Since everyone knew now, I was fine with that. Except at 6.30, the butterflies in my stomach made me feel sick. He wasn't just coming into the bar to hang out or be a nuisance. He was coming in as my — my something that wasn't yet defined.

How long did an interview take anyway?

I guess longer than half-hour. I had to stop stressing.

Then the bar got really busy and I couldn't keep checking my watch. If Holden did come in, I probably wouldn't spot him anyway.

Finally, around 9.00, I got a chance to catch my breath. I scanned the bar for him. He wasn't around. I grabbed hold of Drew.

"Have you seen Holden?"

Drew would've spotted him if he'd come in, since he was all over the place. Also, he was crushing on Holden.

"Nope. Is he coming in tonight? Cool."

Shit. Surely it didn't take three hours to record an interview. Even if they were running late. I mean, Holden could run on at the mouth a bit but not that much. It didn't mean anything. He might've got caught up doing something. I tried to push the evil thoughts from my mind. No matter what time he came in, I'd be sweet and happy.

I kept on with my work, trying to avoid thinking about it.

When I looked down, I realized I'd chewed my nails down to the quick. My little finger actually bled. I needed a cigarette. I got Mark to cover for me and went to Violet's office. She was upstairs so I had the place to myself. I lit up my cigarette, figuring I'd take my time. Even if Holden came in, he'd stick around. I wasn't at his beck and call. I checked my phone while I dragged on my cigarette. No message, nothing at all.

I took a deep drag then crushed my cigarette into an empty can.

When I walked out, Holden still wasn't around. I put my phone into my pocket instead of on the shelf where I usually kept it.

The customers downstairs started to die down a bit. Most either drifted upstairs or headed home. The bar needed cleaning, though. I'd never noticed before how much crap had built up under the sink. It was gross. I scrubbed and scrubbed until it looked as bright as new. Then I restocked the bar and polished every single glass we had.

"Settle down, girl," Jackson said as I handed him another drink. "You're a wound-up ball of stress."

"No, I'm not." But, as I said it, I automatically raised my nail to my mouth.

He was so late, he probably wouldn't even bother coming into the bar at all. I prepared myself not to see him. I'd be fine with that. If the next five customers ordered beers, then that would mean he'd come in.

A girl walked up to the bar.

"Two vodka and Cokes, thanks."

"Wouldn't you rather a couple of beers?" I asked her. "Vodka and Coke will rot your guts."