All Access (The Fangirl Series Book 1) (14 page)

Still, I hate when I doubt myself as a mom—and having my best friend be the one to make me feel that way is a huge bummer. I’ve sacrificed plenty over the years so the girls could come first. That’s what being a parent is. I’m not neglecting them in any way, shape, or form right now. They’re away at their grandparents. With their dad. They’re not at home alone, eating cold SpaghettiOs straight from the can and drinking water from the bathroom faucet. They’re having a fun summer adventure and so am I. What’s wrong with that?

You know what’s wrong with that?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing at all.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The Crazy Truth

“To us,” Niles says, holding out his shot glass of whiskey. I clink his with mine and slam it, expecting my throat to catch fire. It doesn’t.

“This must be some fancy-pants whiskey, because it’s delicious.” My general rule is that if it’s consumed in a shot glass and doesn’t have the word “Pucker” behind it, I hate it. So this is a pretty big win. I’m impressed.

“Only the best for you. For us.” He takes my shot glass and his and sets them on the table next to us before nuzzling my neck and nibbling my ear. “You look fricking amazing tonight,” he whispers. I forget to breathe for a moment, then repay him the same compliment. He does, after all, look incredible right now, too. He’s still wearing his stage clothes because tonight we went straight from the venue to this little dive club that has been the guys’ favorite haunt for years. No showers, no time to change, no nothing. Off the stage and into the car. And totally sexy.

“Remember, things might get a little wild tonight. So, if you want to leave at any time for any reason, just tell me.”

He warned me of the potential wildness over our takeout lunch earlier (which was the absolute best steak I have ever had in my life. And who gets takeout steak, right? Only in New York.). Truthfully, I’m a little nervous. But as long as he’s with me, it can’t be that bad. Right?

“Oh, and there will most certainly be a girl here who shows me her tits. Does it every single time we’re here. She tells me she’s in love with me, wants me to run away to Aruba with her and sing her to sleep on the beach.” I stare at him, every jealous nerve in my body on overdrive. “We can’t kick her out, though . . . she’s the owner.” He squeezes my hand. “And she’s about sixty years old.”

I relax a little as the shot starts to do its job. I suddenly don’t care about sixty-year-old titty-flashers, or the roomful of people around us, or any of the shit going on at home. I wrap my arms around Niles’s waist and pull him into me. “You know I love this jacket, but you need to lose it. It’s keeping you too far away from me.”

“I’m a sweaty mess underneath. It was fucking hot up there tonight. More than usual.” He moves my hair behind my shoulder. “Unless it’s just because I saw your sweet face in the audience and I couldn’t calm down.”

Aww, swoon.

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly what it was.” I giggle and tug at his sleeve. I don’t care how sweaty he is, I want to feel every inch of him I can, and this big ass leather jacket is totally hindering that.

“Slow down, young lady. I’ll take it off in a second. But first, I need to grab something out of the pocket.”

He jams his hand into one of the inside pockets and pulls out a velvet box, which he nervously holds out to me. “I guess I’m not totally sure what your jewelry style is yet, but since Nash got something like this for Emily, I figured it’d be a safe bet.” He smiles a shy smile and pops the top open, revealing the most gorgeous diamond stud earrings I have ever seen. What the what?

“Oh my God,” I whisper. “Are these for me?”

I am
so
good at asking stupid questions.

“Of course they are, goofball. Do you like them? Are they too big? Too small?” He cocks his eyebrows and looks so damn cute I can’t decide if I want to stare at him, or the earrings.

“They are so perfect, I can’t even believe it. I just . . . these are . . . this is totally amazing. Thank you so much.”

I know my eyes are sprouting pools and I am trying hard to prevent that from happening, but damn, this is seriously crazy. Watching my book—my dream—come to life is way more emotional than I could’ve imagined.

“Want to put them in?”

Of course I do. I am just too frozen to do so. I must nod, though, because he wiggles one out of its slot in the box and holds it out. “Don’t drop it.” He pretends to hand it to me, then snatches it away quick, so my hand totally airballs.

“Ha, you’re funny. Now, gimme it, before it really does fall.”

I take out my cheapo hoop earrings and gaze at him adoringly (and probably ridiculously) as I wiggle the stud into my left ear. He presses the other earring against his lips, then holds it out. “Promise you’ll think of me every time you wear these?”

Is he serious right now?

“I promise. And plus, I think of you all the time anyway.” I know it sounds hokey and completely sappy, but it’s true. After so many years with Brad, I’ve forgotten how absolutely intoxicating new love is. Niles is on my mind nearly every single second, whether he’s a foot in front of me like he is now, or miles away. I haven’t felt like this in ages—maybe ever, really. My stomach is in a constant tangle of good knots, and at any given moment, my heart is one millisecond away from bursting.

“They’re gorgeous on you. You’re gorgeous on them. Really. You’re stunning.”

“Thank you,” I say, because really, it’s all I can manage. If he keeps this up, I’m going to need a respirator.

“Are you ready to have some fun tonight?”

“Yeah. For sure.”

“Good, because there are a couple of beers over there, calling our names. Let’s hit it.” He grabs my hand and tries to pull me toward the bar, but I dig my feet into the floor, pull him back, and kiss him hard.

“Thank you so much, Niles.
So
much. I really . . .
adore
you.”

He smiles his cute little close-lipped smile and raises my hand along with his, up to his heart. “You’re welcome, Kallie. And I really . . .
adore
you, too.”

The way his heart pounds through his chest, which I feel as strongly as I feel my own, I know there is no question.

What he just said to me is true.

***

Sure, Niles and I have gotten tipsy together before, but this is insane. While he’s using the restroom, I stand alone in the hallway that leads to it, with my face flat against the wall, trying to cool my burning cheeks.

“Hello, wall,” I say, giggling at my own ridiculousness. “Thanks for holding me up. You’re so . . . cool!” I turn my head so that my opposite cheek is against it and laugh some more because it’s super hilarious. To me, anyway.

Niles bursts out of the restroom and grabs me from behind. “Ooh, lucky wall.” He nuzzles his chin into the crook of my neck. I laugh again. This wall is completely entertaining and I am
so
ticklish right now.

“I have to step out back to take a call,” Niles says. “My mom left me a voicemail about my sister, but I couldn’t really understand her.”

“Everything okay?” I attempt to pull myself together amidst my incessant urge to giggle. He shrugs and leads me to a high table near a window. There are no chairs, so I am forced to remain erect. This should be interesting.

“I’ll be right out there,” he says, motioning toward to window. “Don’t move, okay?” He looks worried and I’m not sure if it’s because of what’s going on with Sister Kallie or because Girlfriend Kallie (ack! Did I just say
girlfriend
?) is a hot, drunken mess.

I nod and stand straight, showing him I can be trusted to not fall on my face. He hands me a bottle of water that seemed to appear from the heavens and stoops down to look me in the eye. “Here, drink this. Can you do that for me?”

If anyone else spoke to me like I was a child, I’d probably have something snarky to say in return. But hearing it from Niles, and seeing the expression on his face, makes it all alright. “I can do that for you.”
I can do anything for you.

“Good. Be right back.”

He kisses my forehead and disappears out a side door. I glance around the room and see lots of people looking my way. Oh man, what are they thinking? We’ve had tons of people come up and talk to us tonight and each time Niles introduced me to someone, he’d say, “This is Kallie.” Not “my friend, Kallie” or “my girlfriend, Kallie.” Just plain “Kallie.” But each time we met someone, he was either holding my hand or had his arm wrapped around my waist, so I suppose they could draw some pretty accurate conclusions without him giving me any formal title.

There have been lots of pictures snapped, too, but hardly anyone straight up asked for pics of Niles. Unless they were doing it on the sly, the only pics I’ve seen anyone take of him—aside from a few photos with fans—were when all the band members were together and they actually posed.

I look around for paparazzi or journalists and don’t see anything conspicuous. There probably aren’t any here. I’m sure the guys and the owner filter attendees so that those who are here respect everyone’s space and privacy. Besides, Niles was right. There are people here doing some crazy-ass things. Couples making out in every nook and cranny of the room, pills being handed back and forth, smoke coming from a phone booth-sized room back near the stockroom. Clearly, these people are engaged in far more interesting activities than watching Niles and me. Still, I smooth my hair and slick on some lip gloss, just in case.

As I put my gloss away, I fiddle around in my purse, attempting to look busy. I really should take this time to text the girls or check messages, but my head is far too foggy to do anything that requires concentration or coordination, and plus, I’ll probably just find more nastiness from Brad anyway.

Though my head is down, I sense a presence on the other side of the table. “You look lonely,” someone says. Ah, hell. I don’t even have to look up because I know the voice the second I hear it.

Robbyn.

I drag my eyes up and sure enough, there she is. Just seeing her makes my arm hair stand on end. “Where’s your boyfriend?” She leans forward and smirks, punctuating the amused look that was already on her face.

“Taking a call.” My hand starts motioning toward the window, but I don’t want her to know anything about his whereabouts—or that he’s currently out there alone—so I poke at a grain of salt on the table instead.

“Nice earrings. Those from Niles?” I’m not sure what would make her even ask that; for all she knows, I could’ve had these for years. But there is no sense in denying it, so I nod. “I got a gold bracelet once,” she says, holding out her wrist. “Still wear it every day. Never got any bling like that, though.”

Yep, I’m pretty much done here. This convo seriously needs to shut down before it even gets going. “Um, I need to hit the restroom, so . . .”

“
Heeey
,” she interrupts, “didn’t Nash get Emily earrings like that in your book? That’s what Niles did, right? He recreated the whole Nash thing, didn’t he?” She smiles and shakes her head. “Huh. How romantic. He can be pretty good when he wants to be.”

I try to read her face, but there’s really nothing to read. Is she being sarcastic? Serious? I have no idea how to respond to this, so I let my gaze wander over her right shoulder and around the room. Where the heck is Niles?

“Nothing beats how mushy he gets right after he screws your brains out, though, am I right?”

I stare back at her in horror. Did she really just say that to me? Is she really trying to compare notes? Not that I have any notes to compare, but she doesn’t know that. Man, this girl really is whacked.

I don’t say a word and she doesn’t seem to notice. She looks wistful, not instigative. Oddly enough, I don’t think she’s trying to start something. But still, her comment is like a blow to my innards. I smash my lips together and let a breath puff out of my nose. If I clench my lips any tighter, my teeth will slice through. I hate how jealous I feel right now, and I really hate that I don’t know if it’s because she’s been on the receiving end of his love-making or because she’s been the recipient of his after-sex mushiness. Probably both. But mostly, it’s probably because she has a year’s worth of experiences with him where I’ve had just a few weeks. She knows him so well. Or not. He did say that he hardly shared anything with her, right? But if that’s true, why did he get mushy with her? What did he say? Will he get mushy with me when—if—that day ever comes? He’s told me that I “already” know him so well, but I don’t know that side of him at all. I want to know that side of him. So very, very badly.

“I really didn’t think things would go so far with you two.” She turns her gaze back toward me. “I almost feel threatened. But I know that once he’s gotten all that he needs from you, he’ll be back.” She smiles and pulls her ponytail forward over her shoulder.

I want so badly to ignore her. Wave a wand and make her go away. Have Niles pop up at that very second and interrupt this completely bizarre conversation. But none of that happens. And because of the drinks, my filter’s switch is positioned to off.

“Sorry, Robbyn. But I’m pretty sure he won’t be back. We’re together now.” I state this as matter-of-factly as I can. I’m not trying to start anything either, but this chick needs to back the fuck off.

“Honey, you are not
together
.” She smashes her own lips together and raises her eyebrows as though she feels sorry for me. She studies me for a second and when I don’t say a word, she says, “Kallie, wow. Are you really that naïve? You seem smarter than that to me.”

Okay, now I’m hot. Whatever button she just pushed sends me into overdrive. I stand up straight and square my shoulders. She’s taller than me, so I’m sure I’m not at all threatening, but still. I refuse to back down.