The Complete Rockstar Series

Of course, I don’t love James, and I’ve been putting off the marriage bit for months now. Still, he deserves someone better than me, a phony who keeps him around because she’s afraid of a bully from her past. It’s not fair to him. The thought of completely breaking it off with James makes me ill, but I haven’t got a choice. Adam should be my future, and I’ve waited long enough for that future to begin.

Then there’s Adam’s fame to consider. Can I live like that? With beautiful women throwing themselves at him constantly, quite possibly right in front of me? I saw Adam in school and at that party in L.A. He would shag anything in a skirt. Not to mention that picture, which I’m sure is just one of many. He says he’s in love with me, but would that keep him from taking what’s always going to be so readily offered?

“We’re here, miss.” The driver hops out and opens my door.

“Thank you so much,” I tell the driver as I get out at the University College Hospital where I work. I have to get my schedule for the next two weeks, so I had the driver drop me off here instead of at my flat.

My head aching and my body exhausted, I hurry inside and take the lift to my floor, grabbing a copy of the schedule out of the break room. I’m able to duck back out without any of my coworkers noticing me. I want to get home to think and I’m way too distracted to have any sort of social interaction right now.

My phone rings as I ride the tube home and my stomach jolts when I see that it’s James. I can’t duck another call from him, I have to answer.

“Hello?”

“Ellie? Where have you been all day? I stopped by your flat and you weren’t there? And you didn’t answer your phone.” He sounds worried and annoyed.

“Sorry, I went to the hospital to get my schedule and you know they have a no phone policy, so I turned it off and must have forgot to turn it back on.” The lie comes so easy to me that I feel like throwing up.

“Oh, okay. I was so worried about you.” Guilt pierces through me at his concern. “Can I come round tonight? We can get take-out.”

“I’m not feeling well, James. How about tomorrow?” I need more time to process my thoughts, to decide on my future.

“Are you still mad at me about last night? Because you’re right Ellie, it’s none of my business who you used to date. We’re not over, are we?”

So sweet and thoughtful, he really does deserve someone better than me.

“No, I’m not mad anymore, I promise. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Okay, love you El.”

“Me too,” I answer pathetically and hang up.

God, I am such a shitty person.

27

Adam

Dax and I are sitting in the back of the chauffeured car as we near our destination. I can’t sit still, drumming my fingers on my knee nervously.

“Stop it, you’re driving me mental.” Dax swats my hand away from my leg. “You and your damn twitching!”

“Hey! Watch it. You could break my fingers with those giant meat paws of yours. Then how would I play my guitar?”

The bastard actually fucking laughs. Like there’s anything even remotely funny about this. Our manager would have our bloody heads on a platter if he knew what we were doing. At least I thought to bring one of th

e larger security guys from the tour with us. Ronin Walsh is a giant, mean looking, Irish bloke with a shite temper. He’s bigger than Dax or his brothers, and that says a lot. His head almost hits the ceiling of the car where he sits in the passenger seat in front of us.

“He’d better be prepared to explain why Callum Murray was allowed to get anywhere near Ellie,” I mutter, clenching my fists in my lap.

“I still can’t believe you’ve been sending that knob head brother of yours money all these years. You had to know he’d just pocket the cash and do absolutely nothing to help you.” Dax looks at me like I’m the stupidest dimwit on Earth.

“Fuck off, Davies. He protected her while we were in school, didn’t he? How was I to know he’d stop? I figured if the money kept coming, he’d keep up his end.” Yeah, I’m that stupid.

The car comes to a stop in front of a Chinese restaurant in a so-so area of Northeast London.

“I guess I know where all of my money went,” I mutter under my breath, noticing the bright red, fancy German sports car parked out front.

“Fucking prick spent it on himself.” Dax shakes his head in disgust.