Page 6 of Wild Stars (Rock His World #2)

CHAPTER 6

Mateo

“It’s so nice to go out again, like we used to,” Celina says with pouty lips. “I missed this.”

Hailee toasts her cosmopolitan with Celina’s vodka redbull.

I take a sip of my cocktail, some concoction of Japanese coffee-flavored whiskey and cherry blossom liquor, which is not as sweet as it sounds. Then again, I prefer a strong drink with a bitter bite.

Geo smiles as Hans—Hailee’s make up artist—nods in agreement.

“It’s nice to see Sleeping Beauty leave his tower once in a while, too,” Geo says with a smirk.

I roll my eyes. “I do things. I’m not a shut in,” I bite.

It’s true. I do leave my house and studio. I’ve even got a standing reservation at Saint & Sinner, the newest sex club that opened up.

Hailee appraises me with an annoyed glare, almost as if she can read my mind, and I think maybe that’s not as good as it sounds.

It’s not like I’m a sex addict or anything, I just... need to relax once in a while.

And my definition of relaxing differs from everyone else’s.

“When was the last time you went out with all of us, like this? Seriously. It was before you and Ed broke up.”

The air thins as she says his name, and I don’t miss the looks that come over everyone’s faces. It’s like she dropped a bomb in the middle of a table, just by saying his name.

I sigh, knowing there isn’t any arguing with her at this point. After all, we broke up a year ago, officially. Contracts ripped up and all...

“Yeah, well, maybe I was trying to figure my shit out, Hailee. I was with the guy for five fucking years. Forgive me if I needed some space.”

I drain my drink and push it to the side, capturing the attention of our waitress and beckon her for another.

Celina is the first to speak. She says the words softly, imploring me with her gaze. “Five years is a long time.”

Geo bumps my shoulder. “But that’s the past. You’re doing fucking great now, man. Look at you.”

I glance at Geo’s dark, kind eyes, and the air that settles around us is strangely comforting.

“Your comeback is lit.” Geo waggles his eyebrows. “Five weeks in the number one spot, shit. I’ll never knock you out at this point,” he teasess smoothly.

“It’s not a comeback, Geo. It’s a glow-up. Obviously.” Hans winks. “All that yoga really paid off, huh?” Hans giggles.

I shoot him a dominant glare that makes him shut right the fuck up. “It wasn’t yoga,” I nip.

Hailee rolls her eyes. “Right, it was tantra.” She giggles.

“Yes. And I think maybe you all could learn a thing or two from the practice of holding things in,” I say, taking a swig of my drink.

Geo raises his beer, taking a sip as he laughs. “You’ve been holding it in long enough, don’t you think?”

Celina giggles and Hans shakes his head.

“Indulgence is no longer indulgence if it is routine,” I grumble.

Which is why I only watch at Saint & Sinner, and do not engage.

A part of me worries I’ll never truly indulge in anyone, again.

Not unless I want to suffer a broken heart and soul.

Hailee chimes in. “All I’m saying is it’s okay to have a little fun. You’re not dead, you know. You just have to remember how to live.”

Hans purrs in contentment. “That needs to be on a t-shirt somewhere.”

I can’t help but shake my head as the waitress drops off my drink and I waste no time taking a sip.

“And indulgence is fine. In moderation,” Geo declares as he sets his drink down.

I raise an eyebrow at him. Not that the man doesn’t drink or indulge in shit, but it is kind of odd to see it when he does. I guess even angels from Christian rock can fall off the wagon sometimes.

Geo’s smile doesn’t reach his kind eyes. I don’t have many people I consider friends—mostly a lot of acquaintances and assholes who want to be seen with me rather than be with me—but I’d go out on a limb and say the straight edge Marilyn Manson looking motherfucker is the closest thing I have to a best friend besides my sister.

And he might be the only person at the table who actually knows about my... lifestyle.

I don’t like talking about my relationship with Edward, if only because I can’t really talk about our relationship, due to our NDA.

The one I made him sign as my submissive.

Even though he broke the terms of our contract, the clause was more than iron clad and prevents both of us from discussing the details of our relationship publicly.

For this very reason.

No one—except maybe Geo—could ever understand that my heartbreak extended beyond matters of the actual heart. Though, I didn’t disclose much else except the fact that it was over and I was leaving the bastard.

Edward broke my trust.

More than once.

And I let him do it.

I let him hurt me, because I fucking loved him, and all I was to him, was some kink, some scheduled activity. It wasn’t a life with me Edward wanted. It was just... sex to him. Our contract was nothing more than a fucking business proposal.

He made that more than clear, when I found him fucking someone else.

My contract was explicitly clear that while he was under my care, he would abide by my rules, including being faithful to me.

I believed when he signed our contract that he took it as seriously as I did.

Because to me, it wasn’t just a kink. He wasn’t just some guy I enjoyed tying up, so I could make him beg for mercy.

He was mine.

In every sense of the word.

I don’t do relationships well, mostly because of my singular preferences. Because relationships to me are not fickle, chaotic things I do on a fucking whim.

I need to know when I am giving myself, when I am serving my sub, that I can trust them. Words are just that... words.

I write them all the time, and I know they hold no true weight.

Anyone in the world can tell me they love me. And they do. At shows, on social media posts, at the fucking grocery store.

But ink is eternal. It stains the paper with truth that is irrefutable. It’s trust in black and white, a promise.

That contract was me handing Edward my heart and soul in ink.

I put my career on hold to focus on him. To serve him.

I handed him my black heart on a silver platter.

I moved into his fucking house, for God’s sake, because I thought that was the way things were supposed to go. I thought I’d finally found someone I could settle down with and build a fucking life.

But Edward Haverish makes his own fucking rules, apparently.

I should have split the first time I found him fucking someone else, but I didn’t.

Because I stupidly thought as his Dom, I could correct him and his behavior. I could make him bend and see the err of his ways. That I was worthy of his attentions.

I thought that I could fix him.

Geo’s smile isn’t knowing, but it’s genuine, and for the moment, that’s enough. I guess.

“Holy shit, what are the fucking odds?” Geo says, his voice ticking up an octave as he rises from his chair.

My gaze follows him and the blood immediately drains from my body when I see him wrap his arms around a rather familiar looking individual.

“Hey man!” Dare says with excitement as Richie waves, smiling at my sister and friends.

“Hey Hailee.” His smile is stupid and lazy, and it irritates me. Also the way he’s looking at my sister is suspicious, but I don’t have time to interject when Geo speaks.

“Ya’ll should totally join us,” he says.

My jaw tightens, as does my grip on my drink.

Dare’s gaze catches mine and I see the corners of his lips perk up.

“I’d love to,” he says, that bratty undertone to his voice making my blood rush and my cock twitch.

Bad fucking idea.

I do my best to remain apathetic, or at the very least, appear apathetic.

It irritates me how just one fucking look from this kid can get my fucking panties in a twist.

Maybe Hailee is right. Maybe I need to get fucked, seriously.

I sip my whiskey drink, glancing away from the little brat.

Hans flags our waitress down as Celina and Hailee busy themselves with dragging extra chairs over, like Fuku is a damn McDonald’s and not a high-end restaurant.

Seriously, what is wrong with them?

Dare settles between Geo and I, his frame entering my space.

I know I should move over, but I don’t want to give this damn kid an inch. I know he’ll take a mile, and I’m not in a giving mood. The past twenty-four hours, it’s like I can’t get away from him.

“Whatcha drinking, old man?” Dare quips with a grin, nudging me with his elbow.

This close, I can smell the cologne rolling off of him. Some cheap, knock-off crap that probably came off the back of a truck somewhere.

He runs his free hand through his hair, which looks a little shinier than it did earlier, but equally still disheveled and unkempt.

My palm twitches as I watch his fingers slide through the silky locks.

I shouldn’t know what that feels like, but I do, and it’s all I can think about.

I grip my glass tightly. “Nikka,” I bite.

Dare raises an eyebrow. “La Femme Nikita? I didn’t know she made drinks.”

I roll my eyes, my tongue sharp as the bitterness of my whiskey. “It’s Japanese whiskey.”

Idiot.

Dare cocks his head to the side, twisting his lips. “Sounds stuffy.”

I pause as I bring the drink to my lips. “It’s sophisticated.”

I savor the taste of the cherry blossom liquor that only heightens the coffee flavoring. The bitterness on my tongue soothes my fractured nerves.

I refuse to move for Dare.

“You wouldn’t know anything about that though, would you?” I snark.

Hailee laughs loudly, and I glance across the table to see Richie telling some story that has her, Celina, and even Hans, captivated. Geo smiles at me as he raises his drink.

The waitress drops off a fresh round of drinks, setting a rather sweet looking concoction in front of Dare.

Complete with a toasted marshmallow on top.

“Is that a?—”

“S’mores Martini, yeah. Totally sophisticated,” Dare says with a grin as he lifts it, popping his pinky.

I scowl at his sarcasm.

After he takes a sip, he sets the glass down, and my cock twitches at the sight of the froth left on his lips.

Don’t get any ideas. This one’s off limits.

For starters, he’s seventeen years younger than me, and he’s also irritating and annoying as fuck, even if he does play for both teams.

He blinks absentmindedly, his gaze flashing to my lips. “What?”

I scoff, taking a sip of my drink as he stares at me with marshmallow froth all over his perfect, pink lips.

No. No. No. No!

“You have a little... something on your face,” I drawl.

Dare’s eyebrows furrow, as he runs his thumb across his lips, smearing the marshmallow more.

Then the fucker has the audacity to open his mouth, and lick the cream right off.

My jaw tenses. Right along with my stupid fucking cock.

“Right, Dare?” Richie calls, breaking the weird tension between us.

“Right!” he chimes in excitedly, licking the rest of the froth from his lips quickly, and I shift my position in my seat if only to quell my unruly fucking dick that seems to have a mind of its own.

I watch intently as Dare and Richie tell their stories, and everyone at the table bursts into fits of laughter over their sordid tales of exploring the rabbit holes of Hollywood.

In some ways, I envy the ease they have of flitting from place to place, not giving two shits about how or where they’ll end up.

I’ve never been so carefree. Everything I’ve ever done has been calculated.

I’ve left nothing in my life to chance. I wouldn’t be where I am—a top selling musician with a wall full of awards—if I had serendipitously left it all up to fate.

Dare animatedly tells his stories, bumping into me without warning, nearly knocking me over. Several times. I’m not convinced he isn’t doing it on purpose, but I do not yield, nor will I ever yield for this fucking kid.

It’ll be a cold day in hell.

After the third drink, I think social hour is finally over, and we rise to leave.

“We should totally keep this party going,” Richie suggests charismatically.

Hans animatedly jumps up and down with Celina. “Oh my God, yasssss we totally should!” he says.

I roll my eyes as I look at Geo, imploring him to put an end to this shit. It’s nearing eight pm already, we’ve been at this damn joint for like three hours.

But Geo only grins wickedly at me as he nods. “Absolutely! I haven’t had this much fun in ages!”

I’m going to kill him.

Hailee loops her arm in mine, gazing up at me with glassy eyes. “Oh, come on, don’t be a party pooper.” She pouts.

I glance at Dare, who is bouncing on his black glam heeled boots like a child with a stupid ass grin on his face.

“Yeah, Matty... don’t be a fucking party pooper.” He pouts, taunting me. The corners of my eyes and mouth twitch along with my palm.

Hailee casually whispers to me, “Come on, live a little. You deserve to have a good time. Let Edward see you thriving when you’re plastered on page six. Living your best life without him.”

I sigh as I look down at my sister, and I know I’m going to pay for this later.

I glance at Richie and Dare.

“What did you have in mind?”