Page 17 of Wild Infatuation (Rebel Rockstars #3)

Chapter Sixteen

Terrance

SHAWN SAID NOT TO worry. Now I understand why.

The news hits the fan Discord server immediately. The members are even faster than me as a mod for the group. Within seconds, there’s a link to a livestream and a slew of pictures.

I can’t help but scroll through them, even though I know I shouldn’t.

Shawn looks incredible, but whoever did his makeup put way too much on him.

He has the kind of face you should take a lighter touch with, allowing his strong features to come through on their own.

The heavy-handedness of the eyeliner detracts from the beauty of his eyes, and his face is a bit too smooth and closely shaven.

I’m being petty, critiquing this unseen makeup artist to make myself feel better.

It eases the sting of those pictures, but only for a moment.

Then I’m soaking in those photos again, swallowing too hard to fight down the small, mean things I want to feel when I see Shawn with his arm around a woman.

She’s gorgeous, tall and blonde and elegant, with a dazzling smile.

There seems to be no bad angle on this woman, no matter how many pictures my Discord friends post.

Damn, she’s hot! someone writes.

The others quickly chime in.

Who is she ?

Heard she’s Levi’s sister.

Is Shawn dating Levi’s sister???

No way.

Wonder how long that’s been going on.

Think they knew each other as kids?

I lie in bed, the bright glare of my phone screen scorching in the darkness. I should look away, but I can’t as more pictures and more speculation floods in.

Guess they’re not all gay after all.

My chest aches. Shawn warned me, but it doesn’t help when I have to watch all these people throw around credible theories about how he’s been dating Levi’s sister all this time. It can’t be true. Surely he would have said something before now. There was no sign of anyone else in his home.

Besides, he definitely fucked me like a man who knew what he was doing.

That was not some fumbling straight guy “just trying it out.” No way. Shawn took me to bed like a man who knew exactly what he wanted and how to get it. He made sure I felt as good as him, and that’s not something I’d expect from a straight man who’s experimenting.

This has to be a publicity thing. It has to be because of the music video. There’s no way he’s actually dating this woman, but I don’t dare say so as my Discord server keeps speculating about the nature of the relationship.

Normally, I run to this server at the end of a long day to chat and relax.

Me and the band’s other superfans have become more than a group with a related interest. We’re friends beyond our love of Baptism Emperor.

We’ve had meetups. We remember each other’s birthdays.

We help each other when someone’s down. Yet tonight I can’t take any solace in a community that normally brings me so much comfort.

I close my phone and set it aside, but spend the rest of the night tossing and turning.

I ACHE WITH SLEEP deprivation the next day at work. By the time I reach the salon, I’ve had two coffees, but they wage a losing battle against a restless night. It’s going to be a long day, but at least staying busy at the salon should keep me off the internet, where only heartache lurks.

I can’t help checking Discord one last time as I sit in the parking lot near the salon.

There are more pictures, but the frantic activity slowed during the night.

These images are somehow worse, however.

From the look of things, the band went to an afterparty, and there are pictures of Keannen and Jacob dancing with their boyfriends — and Shawn with Levi’s sister.

It’s a still shot, so it’s hard to judge, but she’s smiling, her hands on his shoulders.

He has a hand on her waist. I know his face well enough to notice the hint of a smile there, subtle though it is.

The next shot shows her leaning close, saying something into his ear, his hand reaching to the small of her back.

I hastily turn off my phone. My body tingles with the memory of that hand resting against my body in exactly the same spot, pulling me in for a kiss, holding me close as we fell into bed.

It has to be more publicity shots. Everything a famous band like Baptism Emperor does is curated and managed.

Those pictures aren’t as candid a moment as they’re meant to seem.

That’s what I console myself with as I slouch into work.

Penelope picks up on my bad mood immediately, but neither of us have time to commiserate as the work day begins, and I’m kind of glad about that.

I don’t want to scowl and pout. I don’t want to doubt Shawn.

It’s not in my nature to be so suspicious, but what else can I think when the pictures keep coming and everyone in my Discord server is convinced the band used this event to expose Shawn and Olivia’s secret relationship?

The story has grown overnight, from the brief glance I got when I dared to look (that’s also how I learned the woman’s name is Olivia).

Now, they were high school sweethearts who had to keep their fateful reunion a secret because of Shawn’s sudden fame.

It doesn’t make any sense, though. Why wouldn’t Shawn be able to have a relationship like that in public if he wanted? There would be no reason to hide it.

And what would it mean for what we did?

If he is dating her, then I helped him cheat on her. That’s not a position I ever want to be in. I’m sure Olivia’s nice. Anyone who can make Shawn smile like that must be wonderful. She doesn’t deserve to get cheated on; no one does.

I refuse to believe it. Shawn wouldn’t do that.

Besides, it doesn’t add up. He wouldn’t need to warn me about what I might see if that’s a real relationship that’s going to be out in public now.

It has to be publicity. It just has to be.

I clutch the thought to my chest as I sweep up hair and prepare for my next client of the morning, the last one before I get a break for lunch.

I fear what I’ll do with that lunch break, but I’ll have to deal with that when the time comes.

There’s no point worrying when I have a client waiting for me.

A young guy slides into my chair. He has nice dark hair, and after I wash it, I ask him what he’s looking for today. When he pulls out his phone, my heart sinks.

“I was thinking something like this,” he says, showing me a picture of Shawn with his shaved sides and long top. “These guys are everywhere. Do you think you could do this?”

I nearly scoff. I know that hairstyle so intimately. I could probably reproduce it while wearing a blindfold. I dry the guy’s hair and set to work sectioning off what we’ll keep and what we’ll shave off.

“Have you heard of this band?” the client asks.

Normally, I’m a chatty stylist, but today I wish I could work in silence, especially if the topic is going to be Shawn.

“Yeah, they’re pretty good,” I offer mildly.

“They’re amazing. I only found them recently, but I’m kind of excited for that new single they’re putting out. I always thought the guitarist was the hottest one.”

I manage to chuckle and do my best to deflect. “Not the lead singer? I hear a lot of people like him.”

“Oh, he’s definitely gorgeous too, but there’s something about that dark and broody type that really does it for me. Too bad it looks like he’s their token straight.”

He laughs, and I realize a beat too late that I’m supposed to join in.

“Well, it’s not like any of us have a chance with rockstars anyway,” he says to smooth over the awkwardness of my non-response.

My heart clenches so hard I think it’s going to burst.

“Yeah, true,” I say.

I get through the rest of the haircut with minimal Shawn talk, but by the time I sweep up the hair and clean up my station, my throat is so tight I can barely manage a sip of water.

I retreat for the back exit of the salon, meaning to walk during my lunch break instead of sit around and brood.

I’m not sure how much I’d manage to eat even if I felt like trying.

I only make it a couple steps into a chilly but sunny afternoon before Penelope is calling out for me and jogging to catch up.

We have the same lunch break most days, so usually we’ll eat and gossip together, but today I was hoping I could sneak away before she noticed.

It seems the cloud hanging over me was too obvious for her to ignore.

She takes me by the arm when she catches up to me, the concern in her face blunt.

“Hey, where are you going?” she says.

“Thought I’d take a walk while the weather is still nice,” I say. “It’ll start raining any day now and we’ll be in for six months of clouds.”

She glances up at a perfectly clear sky and does not let go of my arm.

“Where are you really going?”

“I’m serious,” I protest. “I was going to take a walk.”

“Then let me go with you.”

I don’t have a reason to refuse, so I let her accompany me as we cut through the lot behind the salon and turn onto quieter neighborhood streets. We can make a loop around the next block or two and return to the salon in fifteen minutes. Surely, I can deflect Penelope’s questions for that long.

Wrong.

She starts in immediately. “You’re really weird today. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“That was the least convincing ‘I’m fine’ I’ve ever heard. What is going on with you? You’re never grumpy like this. It’s like you got dumped.” When I don’t answer, she gasps. “Did you get dumped? By who? Do I need to show up at his house with silly string?”

“I didn’t get dumped,” I say. “I wasn’t dating him. I just…”

She waits, the silence pressing in on me.

Maybe I could tell her. Rockstars like discretion, according to that PA from the shoot, and the moment I started acting discreetly, Shawn opened up to me, but if he’s dating Levi’s sister, then what does it matter anyway?

I was silly to think I had a real chance, that it would ever be anything more than a spontaneous fling.

Then why did he say yes when I asked if I could see him again?

Penelope takes my hand, calling me out of my thoughts. I look down at my closest friend, her honest, searching eyes. Rockstars like discretion, but she’s my best friend, and she’d never betray me. Besides, if I don’t tell someone, I might break down in the middle of a haircut.

I take a deep breath and prepare to tell her everything.