Ripping Pages (20 page)

Yes, I’m a book whore. It’s not my fault that boys in books were better, in my experience, anyway.

Mom and Steve settled into my room. They tried to insist on staying in a hotel, but I wanted them close. I had gotten to know Steve very well when he and mom were dating for two years, and he was living in Houston, so he had quickly become a good father figure to me. He always reminded me of Tom Skerrit. He was a kind and gentle man, and I loved him. I couldn’t have picked a better man for my mom.

I curled up on the couch and clicked on one of the New Years programs on television. It was crazy to know that the huge party going on in my TV was actually going on right down the street. If I weren’t so claustrophobic, I would have gone down there myself. I clicked on a new book on my e-reader that I had been dying to read. Of course, it was about a hot bad boy falling for the plain girl, and then I immediately turned my e-reader off. Maybe some TV would do me good. I watched the streets of my new town teeming with thousands of people all waiting for that huge ball to drop when something caught my eye. A guy with a foot high Mohawk was talking to someone on stage. Jensen was here? Did that mean…

“Ripping Pages decided to come down from their tour to play a special set for us here at 1 Oak for you all on this New Years Eve.” The announcer answered my internal question.

I ran to my room, trying to be quiet so I didn’t wake a sleeping Mom and Steve who was snoring like crazy. I grabbed some clothes and shoes. I put them on in record time and grabbed my coat and wallet as I walked out. I reached the street with snow falling all around me. I quickly hailed a cab and jumped in. “Umm, can you take me to 1 Oak?”

“Sure thing.”
Shit was I supposed to have a ticket? Whatever. Guess I would wing it.

We pulled up to the mass chaos. I would have to walk there and figure out how to get inside.

I somehow made it through the swarm of drunken disorderly people, and up to the doors of 1 Oak. They were checking tickets and names. Fuck. I needed to get to Van. I didn’t want to tell him what I thought over the phone. I was riled up and pissed the hell off, so now was as good a time as any.

I made it to the front and was just about to explain my situation to the bouncer who looked very mad, at the moment. “Ticket and name?” he said in a gruff voice.

I put on my prettiest smile and looked up at his unhappy face. “Hey, sir. Um, I don’t have a ticket—”

“No ticket, no entry. Move, please.”

“No, wait!” I cried. “Please, I need to see the band.”

“Of course you do. You all do. But no ticket means no entry.”

“Bu—”

“She doesn’t have a ticket, because Van doesn’t want her here.” A seedy voice broke through my thoughts. I looked up to see none other than Jade–
I’m a groupie whore
–sneering at me.

“Go back where you came from. You fucked up big time. Your loss is certainly my gain. I’m taking care of Van now. I’m all he needs, and I’ve been all he needs for quite some time now. Go on.” She shooed me away with her long perfect pink nails flittering at me.

She leaned into the bouncer. “This one is trouble. Make sure she stays away. Van will make it worth your while. We appreciate it.”

Oh hell no. She did not just
we
him!

The bouncer looked at me as he smiled at Jade. “Miss, you’re going to have to leave.”

“But—”

“If you don’t leave now, I’ll have to have security come escort you out. Make it easy on yourself, and leave quietly.”

I turned away feeling like an idiot. Van would never be what he was in my eyes. Maybe I made him out to be what I wanted him to be in my mind. Maybe he was always a prick. I just wanted to live in la-la land and pretend I was in a book with my perfect rock star. I walked home the twenty blocks or so, feeling lost the whole way. How did my life end up like this?

I got back to the apartment as the countdown to midnight was being screamed on the television.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1. Happy Fucking New Year.

I woke up on New Year’s Day to the sound and smell of bacon being cooked. Mom was here for sure. I loved her cooking. I missed it.

I got up from the couch and looked over at Steve reading the newspaper with his
Magoo
glasses on. Mom smiled over at me as I folded my blanket up.

“Hey, baby girl. Good morning.”

“Hey, Momma. Good morning.” I walked over to the bar and sat down at the stool and watched her cook breakfast.

She made me a coffee from my single cup maker.

She handed me the cup and the creamer from the fridge. Nothing like your mom babying you to make you feel better even if she has no idea that anything is wrong.

“So what are we doing today?” she asked.

“Well, Tatum should be home in a few hours from Aunt Em and Uncle Phil’s, so maybe we can go shopping or something and then go out tonight, if you want.”

“That sounds great. How’s Van doing?”

I froze. Better get this over with now. I was going to have to tell Tatum tonight, anyway.

I sighed. “Well, Momma, I’m not really sure how Van is because he broke up with me right before Christmas.”

Her eyes went wide and then she shook her head in disappointment. “Come here, baby.” She wiped her hands on a dishtowel near the pan of sizzling bacon and held her arms out to me.

I flung myself into her arms feeling the sadness wash over me and broke into sobs the second we connected. I blubbered the whole story to her. Everything, even the unexpected pregnancy and miscarriage. When I was finished, she looked at me with tears in her own eyes and simply said, “I’m so sorry, Baby. I wish I’d known. I would have come to you.”

“I know, Momma. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I was going to, but I felt like a failure, and I just didn’t want to talk to anyone.”

“So you spent Christmas all alone?” she asked sympathetically.

“Well, no. James came by and brought me some dinner and movies and kept me company.”

That surprised her. “Oh, so you and James?”

I shook my head adamantly. “No. Not at all. He was just alone, too and knew I needed a friend. That’s all we are. I don’t want to be in any relationship right now.”

“Ok, good. Well, you seem to be doing ok. But Tinley, please don’t ever not tell me something like that. I’m so far away, and I want to know when you’re hurting.”

“Yes ma’am.”

After we ate breakfast and got dressed, Steve, Mom, and I headed out to look around at some Manhattan shops. We had lunch a while later and then went to see a movie.

I got a text from Tatum around five that afternoon saying she was almost to the apartment.

We headed home and were greeted by Tatum. She looked extremely happy and well rested. Well at least one of us was.

She ran into me and pulled me into a humongous hug.

“Oh Gosh, Tin! I missed you darlin’.”

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you, Tate.”

She smiled and turned to Mom and Steve.

“Aunt Ellie! Uncle Steve! So good to see you guys!”

There were hugs all around. I followed Tatum into her room as she unpacked. I sat on the bed as she told me about Christmas with her mom and dad and their skiing trip. She didn’t leave anything out as she told me about the hot guys at the ski lodge and her sexual trysts with about three of them. At the same time.

By the time she was done filling me in, I was blushing furiously and laughing so hard I could barely breathe. I looked at her puzzled, “Wait a minute. What happened to your sexy mystery man?”

“Ugh. Don’t ask. Speaking of men… How’s that sexy rock star?”

“Wow, where do I start? Actually Tate, I don’t want to start bawling again so how about I tell you all about that fiasco later.”

“Fiasco? What the hell. What did that stupid fucker do? I will kill his sorry ass if he hurt you.”

I just sat there and nodded at her. “I’ll help you hide the body. Let me Google.”

“Tinley!! What the fuck. Tell me! Now!”

“Ok, ok. God.” So, for the second time that day, I bawled as I told the painful story of the pregnancy, the miscarriage, and the end of Van and I. Also, for the second time that day, I got the
Why-didn’t-you-tell-me-Tinley
lecture. Again, I apologized, and again hugs and tears broke out all around.

Gosh, we were a bunch a crybabies lately.

After our pow-wow, we got dressed to go out with Mom and Steve for dinner and dancing at a new club downtown that Tatum knew about.

We took a town car that Steve had rented with a driver and went to a really expensive sushi restaurant. We headed to a club afterwards and into the elite VIP section. Bottles of Grey Goose flowed around as well as tons of sexy men who wanted to enter the section and flirt, but since mom and Steve were around, Tatum acted like a good girl. Mom and Steve stayed about an hour and told us that the drinks for the rest of the night were covered and to have a good time, and the town car would be waiting when we were ready to leave. He was so generous. They were heading to a hotel now that Tatum was home.

We said our goodbyes to them, and then Tatum and I turned to each other and high-fived. “Girls night! Oh, it’s still early. I’ll call the girls to see if they want to come meet us.”

I panicked at the thought of seeing Sloan. She had been vacationing abroad for a few weeks, and I didn’t know what her brother had told her, if anything.

Tatum, sensing my hesitation grabbed my hand and looked me in the eyes, “Tin, you did nothing wrong. Don’t worry. Sloan will understand.”

I nodded and took a big gulp from my Vodka-cranberry. Not too bad, by the way.

A little while later, Jessa, Cynthia, and Sloan walked into the VIP section with a hoard of men trailing behind them.

We all hugged hello as the waitress came back around with more flaming bottles of Grey Goose and champagne. If Sloan knew anything about what happened between her brother and me, she gave nothing away. She was as nice and sweet as she always had been.

We made our own dance floor in the section, which grew smaller by the minute as several, and might I mention very sexy, men started gyrating with us to the hip-hop tunes blaring from the speakers.

One very well built olive skinned man in a well-tailored suit, came up behind me as I began feeling the vodka kick in. I was dancing in my own little world when I felt strong hands envelope me from behind and rest on my hips. I turned to see Mister Well-tailored smirking at me and in my drunken haze, I wanted to pretend that smirk and those hands belonged to Van. I let him grind against me as I pushed my ass into his growing erection.

I closed my eyes and let the music overtake me as his hands slid lower. I leaned my head against his chest, and “Van” gently kissed my neck and started to suck and nibble on it. I moaned as the music boomed through my ears. I wanted to go home and make love to my Van. I turned in his arms and started to kiss him voraciously. I wanted him to forgive me even though there was nothing to be forgiven for... I wanted him to want me. I wanted him to love me the way I loved him. I just wanted him.

As I kissed “Van” he spoke in my ear, “Come home with me, sexy. I’ll make you feel real good.”

His raspy, rugged voice, so very different from Van’s made me snap out of it. I jumped back and wiped my mouth on the back of my hand. “I am…. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” I headed for the bathroom in the crowded club gently making my way through the swarm of sweaty bodies grinding to
Rhianna’s S&M.

I made it into the bathroom and as I used the facilities, I internally chastised myself for being a stupid slut.
What the fuck was I doing? Stupid Vodka.

I washed my hands, and as I was heading back to the VIP section, I heard the sounds of screaming girls. My stomach instantly dropped when I realized there was only one reason women screamed like that. Rock Star. I spotted Van heading to the other VIP section with that redheaded slut on his arm. I wanted to throw up. At least I looked extra sexy tonight. I was wearing one of Tatum’s slinky red strapless dresses that hugged every single curve of my body. Thank the Lord for Spanks. The silver Louboutins that I’d also borrowed from Tatum made my legs look extremely long. My hair was straightened to the max and since I’d just fixed my makeup in the mirror, I knew that my crimson lipstick was perfectly applied to my lips.

I decided to show that motherfucker what he passed up.

The VIP sections were directly across from one another and could be closed off with curtains. Both of them were open to everyone. I made sure to walk slowly past his knowing from looking out of the corner of my eye, that he was seated facing our section. I strutted my stuff the best I could as I walked past. Living with a model did have its benefits sometimes. As I approached the steps leading up to my section, I misjudged the height of the bottom step. As I raised my foot adorned with the uber-expensive stiletto that I already sucked walking in, I missed it. I stumbled and fell flat on my back in the middle of the posh club, and of course, in front of my ex-boyfriend and his on-again whore. Could my night get any worse?