Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous

I'd raided the mini-bar in our room and was more than a little intoxicated. This was not the state I needed to be in when I confronted Brian; however, I'd decided it would give me the courage to say what was on my mind. I was pleasantly buzzed.

Brian stumbled in sometime after three a.m. He seemed surprised to discover that I was still awake. Tossing aside his fedora and peeling off his shirt, he weaved unsteadily to the nearest bed and sprawled across it.

"Brian," I said.

He lifted his head and squinted at me. "Hmm?"

"Where were you?"

His forehead creased in drunken confusion. "When?"

"Tonight. I went to the bar where you told me you were and guess what? You weren't there."

"Zack and I wanted to check out this other bar."

"With a couple of friends?"

Brian exhaled loudly, burying his face in his pillow. "Oh, here we go," he mumbled.

"Fuck you!" I snarled. "Maybe if you would be honest with me, I wouldn't accuse you of stuff. But you hide everything and you make your friends help you cover your tracks!" I was on my feet, yelling, and I didn't remember standing up. "It all built up before Christmas, then you calmed down. But you really didn't, did you? You were just trying to convince me that everything was fine. And then, we get to Atlanta and you leave me babysitting Slim while you go play, coming back on the bus smelling like some slut's perfume. What the hell is your problem, Bri?"

He looked at me and I'd never seen him so angry. "What the hell is my problem? You are."

"Well, you know what? Your problem has just been solved." I picked up my engagement ring from where I'd placed it on the bedside table and threw it at him, hitting his face.

I was so angry I was shaking and I stormed from the room, slamming the door behind me. So much for taking Jimmy's advice and sleeping on it, I thought wryly.

I didn't stop to consider where I would go. My feet carried me there as though they knew my intentions better than I did, and in almost no time at all, I was at the door of Jimmy's room.

I raised my fist and hesitated. Was this a bad idea? Honestly, it probably was. Do you really care? I asked myself.

Honestly? No. I knocked on the door.

Moments passed and I licked my lips. The alcohol dulled my nervousness, but it didn't totally eradicate it.

I was about to knock again when I heard movement on the other side of the door. I had a fleeting urge to run. My eyes fell to my left hand, to my bare ring finger, and the urge vanished.

The door opened, pulling my attention up and onto Jimmy, framed in the doorway. He was clad in only a pair of black pants and a hint of smeared eyeliner made shadows under his bright blue eyes. His brow was furrowed in question--it only cleared slightly at the sight of me.

"Jordan." His tone was almost wary. "What are you doing here?"

I stepped forward and he moved aside to let me in. He was alone and I wondered briefly where Johnny was. The door shut with a soft click. Turning, I found Jimmy hovering right in front of the door.

"You said you would have told everyone if I'd been your fiancée." I studied him in the dim light. "That you would have had me at every meet and greet."

He stared at me, silent and motionless.

"What you didn't say is what you would do if you ever got me alone."

Jimmy inhaled sharply. "Jordan..."

I approached him. Somewhere deep down, a part of me knew I was hurting him. But my own pain--and the generous amount of alcohol I'd consumed--enabled me to ignore that fact.

So near to him our bodies were practically touching, I rose to my tiptoes. I placed a hand lightly on his shoulder to keep my balance and slid my free hand up into the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Jordan," he whispered. "Please, don't do this. I can't--" he broke off, taking a deep breath. His exhalation was shaky.

I used the hand in his hair to bring him closer, tilting my face so our lips would meet.

"Jordan," he tried again, his tone pleading as his resolve weakened. "Don't. You'll regret this later. You just need to talk to Brian, that's all." He swallowed so hard that I heard it. "You have to stop this, Jordan. I can't say no to you. I don't want to say no to you."

He shuddered with the first faint touch of my lips against his. Eyes closing, he raised his hands to my hips. I applied a hint more pressure to the kiss and in the next instant, all of his restraint fell away.

His mouth sealed over mine in a painful, brusing kiss and his tongue plunged deep. Stumbling slightly, he pushed away from the door, backing me farther into the room. I cupped his face in my hands, my tongue darting and playing with his while I let him guide me to the bed.

We fell onto the soft surface together, Jimmy immediately flipping us. With me on top of him, it was easier for his hands to explore. We parted long enough for him to rid me of my top, then his lips again found mine, our tongues returning to their wrestling match. I wasn't wearing a bra and soon, Jimmy sat up, breaking the kiss in order to focus his attention on my breasts. My head fell back and lust began pooling in my center as one hand gently kneaded my right breast and he teased my left nipple with teeth and tongue.

"Oh...God!" the exclamation left me at a nip of teeth that bordered on pain. "Jimmy." My hands were in his hair as he trailed kisses up to my neck. He had a hand at the small of my back, his other hand leaving my breast to travel down my stomach and lower.

I shifted to give him better access. His mouth back on mine, his hand reached its goal--through the cotton of my sweats and the silk of my panties. My body clenched, my muscles tightening in anticipation. The lust at my core flared white-hot and I moaned as he gently rubbed the tender flesh. I could feel everything even through the sweats and panties, and the spark was becoming a throbbing need.

"Jimmy..." I fumbled with the button on his pants, but his hand between my legs was too distracting and I soon gave up. "Fuck, Slim," I moaned, eyes closing as my head fell back.

His hand momentarily left me; before I could protest, he was slipping it beneath the waistband of my sweats and into my panties. As his fingertips made contact with my flesh, I was sure I would lose my mind. My breath was coming in pants and I was clutching his shoulders so hard that it had to be hurting him.

"Jordan." His voice was strained and I opened my eyes. Touching me and watching my pleasure was driving his own desire to fever pitch.

I bit my lip. I was on the verge of again trying to unbutton his pants when someone rapped on the door. Startled, I jumped off of Jimmy.

"Jimmy?" Matt called.

Jimmy looked at me. I snatched my shirt from the floor, pulling it on as I crossed to the balcony door. I stepped out and left the door cracked so that I could listen to them.

Jimmy went to the door. "Hey, man. What's up?"

"Is Zacky in here with you?" Matt queried.

"No. Isn't he rooming with you?"

"He's supposed to be, but for some reason, I have Johnny instead." Matt sighed loudly. "Oh well. I guess I shouldn't be worried. He's a grown man." There was a short pause, then "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Jimmy said. "I had just dozed off when you knocked."

"Sorry. I'll see you in the morning."

The door clicked shut and I heard Jimmy approaching the balcony door. I didn't wait for him. I walked back inside and pushed past him on my way out of the room, not saying a word.

I returned to the room Brian and I were sharing, not knowing where else to go. Brian was snoring softly and didn't even twitch as I crept to the empty bed and crawled beneath the covers.

*****

I didn't sleep worth a shit and rolled out of bed at the ungodly hour of seven a.m. I escaped from the room without disturbing Brian and headed downstairs.

Breakfast first, then the airport, I thought as I reached the lobby. I can't stay, not after last night.

I grimaced. Memories of the night before were playing in my head with entirely too much clarity. Next time I decide to be such an idiot, I need to remember to get completely smashed instead of just a bit drunk.

"Jordan?"

I looked up. Zacky was directly in front of me, having just stepped through the front entrance of the hotel.

"You're up early," he observed. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah."

He studied me, green eyes showing a hint of disbelief and concern. "Are you sure? 'Cause if you don't mind me saying so, you look like hell."

I glared. "You're one to talk." His clothes were rumpled as though he'd slept in them and he had faint circles under his eyes.

"I was up most of the night, talking and drinking with a really hot girl," he stated. "What's your excuse?"

I was up most of the night, almost fucking one of your best friends that isn't my fiancé. My stomach lurched and I gritted my teeth, hoping I wasn't going to puke in the middle of the lobby.

"I didn't sleep well," I muttered. "Now, move your ass. I've got to get some food in me or I'm going to be sick."

"I'll come with you," he offered.

I didn't have the energy to argue. We strolled out into the early morning sunlight and set off down the sidewalk in search of a restaurant.

Suddenly, as I was pushing my hair back from my face, Zacky seized my wrist. I reacted instinctively, attempting to jerk away, but his grip was too tight.

"What the hell!?" I exclaimed, pulse racing from the kick of adrenaline.

Zacky raised my hand to eye-level. "Where's your ring?"

I couldn't meet his eyes, nor could I make myself speak.

"Did you lose it?"

I shook my head.

"Jordan." Zacky caught my chin in his free hand and forced me to look at him. "You gave it back?"

Tears welled in my eyes as I nodded.

"Why?"

Anger burned through me and I wrestled my arm free. Taking a step away from him, I crossed my arms over my chest. "You should know."

Zacky's brow furrowed in confusion, but I didn't help him. I waited for him to figure it out and, gradually, his expression cleared. "Last night," he said.

I pursed my lips.

"He was making a fan happy, Jordan. Brian's a good guy. He loves knowing that it's in his power to--"

"--Go to a bar with some fans without telling his fiancée where he is?" I cut in. "Show up at three a.m., so drunk he can barely walk, and act like I'm the one with the problem?"

"You are the one with the problem," Zacky said. "God, Jordan, lighten up! He's famous. People besides you want his attention."

"What harm would it have done him to text me and let me know there'd been a change of plans?" I demanded. "Huh?"

"He didn't want you to get jealous and insecure."

"I'm only jealous and insecure because he's not being honest with me!" I yelled.

"He's not hiding anything from you. He loves you. He hasn't done anything since Halloween and even that--" Zacky broke off, realizing what he'd said.

"What?" My voice was barely above a whisper.

Zacky stared at me, fidgeting guiltily.

"What did he do?" I asked.

"You know, I don't think it was Brian. It was..." Zacky trailed off.

"What did he do?" I repeated.

"He got a handjob from some girl at the club," Zacky admitted.

It was impossible for me to process this immediately; it took a few seconds and then, I felt like I couldn't get enough air.

"Jordan!" Zacky steadied me when I swayed a little.

"Do you have your credit card on you?" I whispered.

"Uh, yeah. Why?"

"Give it to me."

Zacky frowned. "Jordan--"

"Give it to me!"

Zacky did as I instructed.

"Thanks," I said. I walked to the edge of the sidewalk.

"What are you doing?" Zacky inquired.

Spotting a cab, I hailed it. "Leaving."