Westside Series Box Set Page 7

  “I’d expect no less,” he told me, which led Andi to glare at me.

  I shook my head at Chris, which was my subtle way of telling him no more jokes. Andi wasn’t impressed by my fame at all, and I didn’t want to do anything to further tarnish my image in her mind. Already I was somewhat obsessed with finding a way to break through her tough exterior, and flaunting who I was to the masses wasn’t going to work. I could see that.

  “Right this way, girls,” I told Tory and Andi, letting them file out ahead of me.

  At the last second I grabbed Andi’s hand as Tory and Chris walked toward the SUV. Andi turned and looked back at me in surprise.

  “I’m not a bad guy,” I told her. “I’m actually quite nice and down to earth. Give me a chance.”

  “Why?” she asked, seemingly confused by my gesture.

  “Because I’m a nice guy.”

  “I’m not going to sleep with you,” she said firmly. “It’s never been on my bucket list to sleep with a rock star, or a pop star, or a boy band guy – whatever you are – and I don’t have any desire to go there.”

  “I wasn’t asking you to sleep with me,” I reminded her, because I’d never said anything about that – not that I would have turned her down had she offered, but I also knew she wouldn’t. She wasn’t that kind of girl.

  “Then what’s your angle?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t have an angle. I just want to know who you were texting all night while I was singing my heart out on stage. I don’t like being ignored.”

  “Clearly.” She smirked at me as she pulled her hand from mine and started to walk away. “And don’t worry about who I was texting.”

  “Was it your boyfriend?” I called after her. “Is he huge and going to kick my ass for flirting with you?”

  She just shook her head, but she didn’t look back at me. I smiled to myself as I followed her, getting more sucked into her vortex by the second.

  When we reached the car, she turned to face me, giving me the opportunity to look into her gorgeous dark brown eyes. She was like fire and ice, all hot and cold at the same time, ready to burn me with a glance, but there was a softness I could see lingering below the surface. That was what I was going after. And I was determined to get to it by the end of the one drink she’d promised me. It was a tall order, but I was confident I could do it.

  “For the record, cheesy lines and compliments don’t work on me. They annoy me,” she said.

  I smiled. “Why does that not surprise me?”

  She shrugged. “I just figured you should know.”

  “And knowing is half the battle.”

  She faltered for a second. “G.I. Joe?” she questioned, and I nodded.

  “A real American hero. Just like me.”

  That made her roll her eyes like I knew it would, but already I was breaking through to her. It was only a matter of time. I was starting to see what made her tick.

  Andi shook her head as she slid into the ample backseat next to Tory, and Bruce got in the front next to Chris who was driving. Andi was silent as we pulled away, and I smiled to myself, wondering exactly what the night would hold. Nothing about today was turning out the way I thought it would, but I was okay with that. With the tour ending, a part of me was craving some excitement.

  Chapter Five

  Andi

  I wasn’t exactly sure why I had agreed to go back to this guy’s hotel with him, but I had. And now Tory and I were in the backseat of an SUV that had two fierce looking security guards in the front seat and an, albeit cute, but smirky because he’d gotten his way, boy band member sitting next to us.

  Camden wasn’t looking at me. His gaze was fixed out the window, but I could see the hint of a satisfied smile playing on his lips. He was happy he’d gotten what he wanted. That was apparent. A part of me felt like asking the driver to pull over so I could get out, just to wipe the smile off of his face, but I really wasn’t that kind of girl. And he seemed like a nice enough guy. I genuinely believed that this wasn’t some ruse to kidnap and kill us, but jumping into his car like a fangirl was pretty much the last thing I’d ever expected to do, and now I was having second thoughts.

  I wondered how often he did things like this. I imagined it would be fairly easy for him. There had to be millions of girls who hoped for a chance like this, but I wasn’t one of them. It was probably some after show ritual he had where he lured easy prey back to his hotel for a party and drinks with the idea that it would take very little work on his part to get laid. Well that wouldn’t be happening with me. I was going to be true to my word, have one drink and then leave. I wasn’t about to get some unknown STD from a guy who probably had more sex in a month than I’d had in my whole life. I wasn’t that dumb.

  “Oh, my God. Wow!” Tory gushed as she realized which hotel we were about to enter.

  It was swankier than either of us could ever afford on our measly salaries. We drove past the front entrance where at least a hundred girls were standing in a cluster, blocking the sidewalk as they looked up at the building. They were chanting, ‘Westside! Westside! Westside!”, and I saw a few signs like the ones I’d seen at the concert. They said things like, Marry me, Phillip or Team Dillon, and I now saw one that said, I love you, Camden!

  I think it might have hit me then that the guy sitting next to me wasn’t just some average guy. He was an honest to goodness celebrity. Maybe he wasn’t famous to me, but to millions of other people, he was well-known. I’d bet if I asked any of the girls standing out front of that hotel that they could tell me more about him than I ever wanted to know, and that was a little weird to me. I wondered if he liked the attention and people knowing so much about his life. I had a feeling I’d hate that, but if he did what he did every day, maybe he was okay with it.

  “That girl loves you,” I said, leaning toward him.

  He smiled as he turned to me. “She doesn’t even know me.”

  “This is true.”

  He shrugged. “I’ll take the compliment, though. It’s nice to be loved.”

  “She probably knows more than you think,” Tory chimed in on my other side as we turned down a side street that would no doubt take us to the underground parking garage of the hotel.

  “She knows what she’s read online or in books,” Camden told her. “But she doesn’t know me.”

  Tory looked at him in confusion for a few seconds. She didn’t get it.

  “Do me a favor,” Camden said. “I know you want to meet Van, and I’ll introduce you, but don’t go all fangirl on him. It’s not going to earn you any points.”

  “What do you mean?” Tory asked in confusion.

  Camden leaned forward so he could see her around me. “I know you know all sorts of things about him – his birthday, his favorite food, his mother’s name – but if you share all that up front, he’s going to laugh at you and walk away.”

  “He would do that?” Tory asked in surprise.

  Camden shrugged. “Maybe. Just play it cool.”

  Tory crossed her arms over her chest as she stared at him, her eyes narrowing. “For the record, I’m not fifteen. I’m old enough to know how to talk to a guy, regardless of how famous and hot he is. I’m not going to walk up to him and spout off fun facts I read in Westside: The Story Behind the Band. I’m also not going to show him my Pinterest board of pictures of him or the ones where I photoshopped us together as a couple. I’m not that crazy.”

  “You have photoshopped pictures of you and him?” Camden asked in disbelief.

  His words echoed what I was thinking as I looked over at my friend with a solid mix of shock and concern. It was one thing to be a fan but that was downright crazy.

  “No!” Tory retorted after several seconds of silence. “I’m a twenty-five year-old woman. I do not spend my nights imagining what it would be like to walk down the aisle with Van Salvatore. Yes, I think he’s cute, yes, I know lots of things about you guys and your band, and yes, I’m excited to meet him, but that’s because I
like your music. I was joking when I said all that! Geez.”

  As she turned her gaze out the window, I felt myself breathe a sigh of relief that my friend wasn’t a closet stalker. She knew more about Van than she was probably willing to admit to Camden, but she wasn’t crazy. I vowed not to mention her screensaver.

  “I’m sorry,” Camden said to her, sounding sincere.

  “It’s fine,” Tory said, refusing to look at him.

  “You just seemed so determined before,” he explained.

  “Yeah, well, the moment’s worn off. I’m realizing that like you, Van’s probably just a boy and I probably shouldn’t get all that excited. Being let down sucks.”

  “I let you down?” he asked her in surprise.

  She shrugged. “Let’s just say your image is a little more tarnished in my mind now. I didn’t think you’d be such an ass.”

  I couldn’t help that my mouth twisted into a smirk. I didn’t think Tory had it in her, but she’d just slammed Camden. I also wasn’t sure he deserved it, but then again, he had made an assumption about her that was wrong. I was just glad I hadn’t said anything along the same vein, because I’d been thinking it. With the way she was acting earlier, I’d have believed she might be inclined to go all fangirl on Van when she met him – that is if she could remember how to speak. There was a strong possibility history would repeat itself.

  “I’m sorry,” Camden said again. “I guess I’ve met a few people since we’ve been doing this who go a little crazy when they meet one of us. I shouldn’t have been presumptuous. And you’re right, we are just regular guys.”

  “You’re not that regular,” I told him as the car stopped in front of an elevator in the garage. “You’re staying here and using a discreet entrance while two bodyguards escort you to your room to avoid the hundred fangirls who are staked out waiting to propose to you. That’s not really normal.”

  Camden looked contemplative as he said, “True, but at the end of the day, that doesn’t change who any of us are. Those are just measures we have to take because of external factors. It is what it is.”

  The way he said that had me watching him as he got out of the car. I definitely hadn’t expected such an enlightened answer, and I suddenly had a million questions I wanted to ask him. Maybe he wasn’t the guy I’d originally assumed either. I had a feeling I was about to find out for sure.

  The five of us rode the elevator to the top floor of the hotel and emerged in a fairly grand hallway that led to a single door. It was the only one on the floor, and when I looked behind us to see how the freight elevator fit in with the elaborate décor of the hallway, I noticed that it had disappeared. Behind us was only a wall. If I looked close enough, I could see the seam where the doors opened and closed, but to the naked eye, you’d never know the elevator was there. I wondered how one went about calling it, because I saw no buttons either. I guess I’d worry about that when it was time to leave.

  “Right this way, ladies,” Camden said then, leading us to the door.

  I could hear the faint sounds of a bassline pumping as we got closer, and we were enveloped by it when the door to the suite opened. Laugher and voices spilled out into the hallway but were drowned out by the sounds of a deejay spinning on a platform in the corner of the room.

  As we stepped inside, I realized very quickly that this was no ordinary party. I’d never seen anything like it before, but it was pretty much what I assumed the after party for the Victoria’s Secret Fashion show would be like – models, actors, musicians and other beautiful people casually hanging out. I did a double-take as I recognized a few faces that looked familiar only because I’d seen them grace the pages of magazines. It was like slipping into a surreal world that didn’t add up with the one I lived in every day, and I felt a little lightheaded as I drank in my surroundings.

  “Oh wow,” Tory whispered, taking my hand as we stood side-by-side.

  Yup, ‘wow’ pretty much summed it up.

  “Did we fall down the rabbit hole?” I asked her as someone came up behind Camden and jumped onto his back, putting him in a headlock.

  I recognized him as the blond guy from his band. He was laughing, and Camden was fighting him off but laughing at the same time. When the guy jumped down, Camden slugged him in the arm, and then the guy slugged him right back in the shoulder. Camden put him in a headlock and gave him a noogie. They fought like brothers.

  “Glad you could finally make it,” the guy said, sounding out of breath as he pulled away from Camden.

  “I took my time,” Camden explained as he ran a hand back through his disheveled hair. Then he turned to us. “Dillon, meet Tory and Andi.”

  Dillon looked at me for a few seconds like he knew me, and I realized he might have remembered me from the meet and greet. Then he stuck his hand out to shake mine.

  “Andi, it’s very nice to meet you. I’m Dillon Kyle.”

  “Hi, how are you?” I asked him.

  “Can’t complain,” he said, grinning at me as he turned to Tory.

  “What would you like to drink?” Camden asked me when Tory was occupied, talking to Dillon. I was glad she hadn’t gotten tongue-tied again.

  “Vodka tonic,” I told him.

  “With a lime?”

  “Please. And no roofies,” I added with just a touch of sarcasm.

  Camden shook his head at me. “How little you think of me.”

  “I don’t know you,” I reminded him.

  “Which is something I’m hoping to change,” he said coyly. “Why don’t you grab a seat? I’ll take Tory to meet Van, I’ll grab us some drinks, and then we can get to know each other.”

  I wanted to ask him why he was so hell bent on getting to know me when I was leaving in thirty minutes, but he was gone before I could ask. I looked around the party, trying to figure out where to sit, and noticed a white couch off to the side that looked appealing.

  I walked over to it, took a seat and pulled out my phone, trying to look unaffected by the fame that was walking past me, taking shots, and laughing within a few feet of where I sat. I felt the beat of the Tiesto song softly vibrating my body from the floor, and a heady feeling washed over me.

  Help! I’m trapped in Wonderland and can’t get out! I texted to Gabe.

  What are you talking about, woman?

  Tory’s plan worked, and now we’re in the penthouse suite of a fancy-schmancy hotel, surrounded by beautiful people who grace the red carpet more often than I buy lip gloss, and I’m not sure what I’m doing here.

  Are you high? Gabe shot back.

  No! But I am at a Westside party, and there are all sorts of famous and beautiful people here. What the hell am I doing?!

  I could only imagine Gabe’s face as he read that. All the right things apparently. Why are you freaking out?

  I’m not – not really. I’m just completely out of my element. I don’t even like this band, but I was talked into coming here by a smooth-talking, kind of sexy musician who I thought was a complete douche, but he’s actually kind of cool. I’m just a little out of sorts about it all. I swear I’m just having one drink and leaving.

  Why?

  Why what?

  Why are you having one drink and leaving? Have fun. Live a little. After that a-hole, David, you deserve it. Sleep with Mr. Cool and Beautiful and call it a day.

  I sighed. We’ll see. He’s like twelve.

  Twelve? What are you talking about?

  Never mind. I’ll call you tomorrow, I sent back as I felt the couch depress next to me as someone sat down.

  I made my screen go blank before Camden could see that I was talking about him.

  “Texting again,” he said as he shoved a glass under my nose.

  I looked up at him as I took it and set my phone on my lap. “Thanks.”

  “The boyfriend okay that you’re here?”

  I looked at him for several seconds as he just grinned at me, his green eyes alight with what I interpreted as unadulterated glee. Why did he h
ave to be so adorable? Why couldn’t he be ugly or a jerk or a douchebag? I didn’t want to be attracted to him, but I sort of was.

  “Not the boyfriend,” I assured him as I took a sip of my drink, trying to play it cool.

  I didn’t want him to know I thought he was cute. I might not be dating, but that didn’t mean I needed to jump into the bed of the first cute guy I met either. And he probably did things like this all the time. He was probably a pro at flirting and complimenting and, in general, being adorable. I didn’t need to be naïve and fall for his ploys.

  “Okay, so if it’s not your boyfriend, then who has been captivating your attention all night?” he asked, and I realized how much my texting was really bugging him. He was sincerely bothered by it.

  “My best friend back home,” I explained, not giving him anything more than that.

  “And where’s home?” he prompted, taking a sip of his beer.

  “Atlanta.”

  He nodded. “Great. Now we’re getting somewhere. So tell me, does your boyfriend know you’re here with me.”

  Dammit, he was even adorable when he was fishing. Because of that I debated whether to fuck with him just for the fun of it but decided not to. I wasn’t sure he deserved it. If he turned out to be a player who was just trying to get into my pants, I might change my tune, but for now I gave him the benefit of the doubt.

  “Since I know you’re dying to know,” I said with a modicum of sarcasm lacing my words, “I don’t have a boyfriend, Camden.”

  “Cam,” he corrected. “Call me Cam.”

  “Okay. Cam,” I echoed, making him smile.

  There he went being adorable again, and before I knew what was happening, he slid his hand into mine.

  “What are you doing?” I asked him, pulling my hand from his. “Just because I don’t have a boyfriend doesn’t mean I’m going to sleep with you. I already told you I wasn’t interested.”

  “I wasn’t implying anything,” he said as he set his hand on his lap and took a long drink of his beer.

  “Weren’t you?”

  “I honestly wasn’t.”

  “So you just like to hold hands with random strangers?”