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Euphoria (Book Boyfriend Series 3) Page 2
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“I’m going to call Jag and give him an update.”
“I’m ready to get back to the bus.”
After my comment, the three of them all turned and looked at me like I had grown a second head. “What?” I asked. “I need to get back to the guys. We leave for Europe soon.”
Smiley cocked her head and said sweetly, “Rat, the tour is over for you, babe. You’ve got to go back to Texas and get help. I’m sorry.”
“Are you serious?” I asked, raising my voice. I was so pissed. What did they mean I couldn’t finish the tour? I was fucking fine. I had a bad night; it wouldn’t happen again. What the fuck?
Not fazed by my yelling in the least, her smile never wavering, she nodded. “I’m afraid so. We can’t take you in your physical or psychological state overseas. Despite the health issues, you are a tabloid story waiting to happen. We can’t take that risk.”
Not wanting to believe the words that just left her mouth, I screamed at her, “Get the fuck out of my room! Now! You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. Who do you think you are, you uppity British bitch? Get Jag on the phone. Now.”
The smile finally drained from her face as she did an about-face and walked out of the room without saying another word. Good, I was tired of her happy-ass face all the time anyway and that stupid-ass nickname. Marcus shook his head at me and mumbled something under his breath before following her. Fuck him too. Fuck everybody. Now that Scarlett was back in my arms, I didn’t need their shit.
Just then, the doctor entered the room and Scarlett quickly crawled out of the bed, straightening her clothes as she stood up. Walking toward the door, she looked back at me right before she left and said, “It’s gonna be okay, Mase. I promise.”
Scarlett
My back hit the wall in the hallway outside Mase’s hospital room and I slowly slid down until my butt met the floor. I pulled my knees to my chest and buried my face in my arms, trying to pull myself together. Completely drowning in a flood of emotions, I could hardly think straight.
First and foremost, I was relieved he was awake and appeared to be physically okay. I knew he was a long way from being fine, but at least he was going to be around for us to work on that. After relief, I couldn’t say what I felt more—frustration he had been so reckless and selfish in his decision-making and actions, guilt knowing I had been one of the main factors for leading him to this point, exasperation he actually thought he could go back on tour without getting any help and with the way he had spoken to Smiley, comfort by the way his arms felt around me, and love—I’d always love him. Even if I knew we couldn’t be together in a romantic sort of way, he would always own a piece of my heart.
A few minutes after I sat down, I heard footsteps approach me followed by someone joining me on the floor. I looked up to see Smiley sitting to my right, an understanding look on her face.
“You doing okay, sweetie?” she asked.
I was so exhausted I didn’t even care she called me sweetie. It actually felt kind of nice. I shrugged. “I guess. I’m just…” My voice trailed off.
She reached over and pulled me into a hug, patting my hair. For some reason, it didn’t feel strange at all. Typically, I wouldn’t be too keen on letting a stranger hold me and comfort me, but it was exactly what I needed at that moment. Neither of us said anything; we just sat there on the floor, hugging. Hospitals make people do weird shit.
“I see you two have met,” Cruz’s voice pulled us from our embrace. I looked up at him standing over us with a smirk on his face, a tray of coffees in his hand.
“Hey, you. Join us and give me one of those,” I said, tugging on his pant leg.
Careful not to spill the hot liquid, he knelt down next to us and passed us each a cup. Smiley looked down at the drink and made a funny face.
“What?” he asked her. “I brought cream and sugar if you don’t want it black.”
“I just don’t usually drink coffee. I’m more of a tea girl,” she retorted. “But I suppose that’s probably not an option here.”
Cruz rolled his eyes and I giggled. “You fucking Brits and your damn tea. Drink your coffee and shush,” he joked.
We were all laughing hard as the doctor exited the room and walked over to us. Scrambling to our feet to hear what he had to say, I was quickly reminded why we were all there and the seriousness of the situation.
“It appears your friend is going to be just fine if he can lose the ‘I’m invincible’ attitude,” he said. “I’d like to keep him one more night just to monitor his vitals and do some more blood work, but assuming everything looks okay, he’ll be released tomorrow morning.” He turned to walk off but stopped after a few steps and looked back at us. “If you don’t want him back here or in some other hospital, possibly with a worse outcome, someone needs to make sure he gets help.” He then continued down the hall and out of sight.
The three of us stood there looking at each other, not knowing what to say or who should go in and talk to him. Taking a deep breath, I said, “I’ll tell him. I’ll take him back to Houston, and between Marcus and me, we will make sure he gets clean so he can rejoin the band as soon as possible.”
“That sounds good,” Smiley agreed. “I know he doesn’t want to see or talk to me right now, and I get it. I’ll let Jag know.”
“Yeah, I’ll let the guys know too. We’re bummed about not finishing the tour, but we know we need to fix this problem now. Not to mention, Sebastian needs a bit of an intervention as well, so hopefully Aaron, Sophie, and I can work on that,” Cruz added.
“Okay then, wish me luck,” I said as I kissed his cheek and gave her a quick hug before walking back into Mase’s room. “I’ll talk to y’all back at the hotel in a bit.”
As I pushed the door open, Mason was already out of bed, changing into his clothes. He looked up at me with those piercing gray eyes and smiled. “Let’s get out of here, angel.”
Two
BulletProofAngel—Goo Goo Dolls
I Won’t Let Go—Rascal Flatts
Mason
As soon as Doctor Dickhead left the room, I pulled the monitors from my chest and the IV out of my arm, which hurt like a bitch, and got out of the bed. I wasn’t staying in that place another fucking minute; they couldn’t legally keep me there. I found some of my clothes folded on a chair by the window, so I quickly stripped out of the hospital gown and began putting my jeans on. As Scarlett walked through the door, the surprise on her face was evident as she saw me up and getting dressed.
“Let’s get out of here, angel,” I said with a smile. I knew she was about to try to talk me out of discharging myself, but I wasn’t changing my mind. I was fine, and I had shit I needed to take care of. Laid up in a hospital bed for another night wasn’t going to solve anything.
“Mase, the doctor just told us that you need to stay another night for them to monitor you. Why are you getting dressed?” she asked, concerned.
“I’m good, angel. I need to get shit sorted out, and I can’t do that lying in a damn hospital bed. I feel fine,” I said as I pulled the T-shirt over my head.
I walked over to where she was standing, still close to the door, and cupped her beautiful face in my hands. I tilted her chin up and locked my eyes on hers, which were still red from crying earlier. I wanted to kiss her sweet, full lips more than anything in the world, but I didn’t want to push my luck. She was there with me, even though it apparently took me nearly dying to get her there, but I didn’t want to drive her away. Everything felt okay when she was around; it always had. She unknowingly gave me strength through her presence, and despite her flaws, she was still so much better than I could ever be. Since she had been out on her own, life hadn’t been easy for her, and I knew I had played a part in messing shit up for her. I should’ve been upfront with her about wanting her to move with me to Austin. If I hadn’t been such a fucking pussy, none of that shit with Bentley would’ve ever happened nor anything that happened after. Despite all that, there she was, b
y my side when I needed her. My bulletproof angel.
“You promised me everything was gonna be okay before you left the room, and now I’m promising you I’m fine to leave. I really need to get out of here. Please don’t fight me on this.” My thumb stroked back and forth along her cheekbone, and she nodded apprehensively. I kissed her forehead and then grabbed her hand to pull her out of the room.
A heated confrontation with the charge nurse and thirty minutes later, Scarlett and I were in a taxi heading back to the hotel. She hadn’t said much of anything since we had left the room. There was so much I wanted to ask her, but I wasn’t really sure I wanted to know the answers.
Who called her?
How long had she been there?
Where was emo-boy?
What did he say about her coming?
What did this mean for us now?
I decided there would be plenty of time for talking later. I was still feeling extremely sluggish, even though I wouldn’t admit it, and judging by the dark circles under her eyes, she looked like she needed some serious rest too. So instead of saying anything, I just held her hand tightly in mine until we reached the Bentley. Worst fucking hotel name ever.
Cruz was sitting with Marcus and Jag at the bar in the lobby when we walked in. As soon as he saw us, I heard him curse and jump off his barstool as he headed toward us.
“Dude, what the fuck are you doing here?” he asked before looking at Scarlett. “Did you not hear the doctor? He was supposed to stay until tomorrow.”
“It wasn’t her or the doctor’s decision to make. I’m fine and I didn’t want to be there any longer,” I answered sternly before she had a chance to say anything. “
“Rat, you almost died. You were unconscious for over a day, and you’ve only been up for a couple of hours. I hardly think you’re fine,” he hissed.
By this time, my brother and manager had joined us and they both added their support of Cruz’s assessment of the situation. Scarlett, still silent, squeezed my hand hard as I addressed all of them. “I had a bad fucking night, okay? It won’t happen again. I don’t need to spend another night in the hospital for them to tell me I need to chill on partying. I got it. Now we’re gonna go to my room and get some rest. I’ll be ready to leave tomorrow morning. Excuse us.”
I pulled Scarlett by the hand, bumping Marcus’s shoulder with mine as I passed by him.
“The tour is over for Jobu’s Rum,” Jag’s voice stopped me midstride.
Turning around abruptly, I pleaded, “I said I will be okay, man. I really need to finish this.” Cutting the tour short was not only devastating to me but to my best friends and bandmates. I didn’t want this to be over for any of us.
“Mason, you’ve still got a bright future ahead of you. Jobu’s Rum has been a huge success so far. We can put together something for you in a few months, once you get some help, but you need to go home and get your shit together.”
I knew by the tone of his voice and his body language he wasn’t budging on this. Defeated, I turned back around and continued on to the elevator. I hated everyone in that moment. Everyone but Scarlett.
Once we were in the room, all I wanted to do was take a shower and go to sleep. I didn’t want to think about anything or anyone.
“I’m gonna take a shower, angel, then get some rest. I’m fucking exhausted and I’m in an awful mood.”
“We need to talk, Mase,” she answered meekly.
Running my hands through my grown-out hair, I sighed loudly. “I know we do, Scarlett. Apparently, I’m gonna have a lot of free time in the next few months to talk, so we can do it later. Okay?”
She took a deep breath, and I could see her trying to muster up the courage for whatever she was about to say. “No, it’s not okay. You’re not okay, and you aren’t fine. You need help. I’m not gonna sit around and watch you destroy yourself. Things will never be the same between us, Mase. We can never go back to where we were, but I’m not gonna turn my back on you when you need someone to love and support you. I’m sorry for what I did to you… to us.” She paused and looked down at the ground for a moment, shame washing over her face. Raising her chestnut eyes back to mine, she continued, “I won’t fail you. I promise I won’t let you fall again.”
Scarlett
Once Mason had showered and fallen asleep, I grabbed a room key and quietly let myself out the door, heading back to the tattoo shop I saw the previous day. An hour and a half later, I was walking back to the hotel, smiling for the first time since I landed in Miami. I absolutely loved my new ink—a permanent reminder I needed to fly with my own wings. I could never truly be happy until I learned to love myself for being just me. I still had a long way to go to get to that point, but I finally realized that not Ash, Mason, nor Max… not anyone else could do that for me.
Mason was still asleep when I returned to the hotel room, in the exact position I had left him in. Sitting next to him on the bed, I gently stroked my fingers across his cheek. He looked so vulnerable in that moment any negative thought I ever had about him was washed away as the love I still had for him flowed freely. I was so worried about him; I knew he should’ve stayed in the hospital one more night, but damn if he wasn’t the most stubborn person I ever met. I could only hope he would seriously try to get help and get his life cleaned up. I would do everything in my power to make sure that happened. I just wasn’t sure how Ash was going to feel about it.
Completely exhausted from the events of the previous twenty-four hours, I moved to the other side of the bed and lay down next to him. My shoulder was a little tender from the tattoo, but I wasn’t awake long enough to care. Seconds after my head hit the pillow, sleep consumed me.
I had no idea what time it was when I woke up. The room was dark and there was no sunlight shining through the window; the only way I could see anything was from the faint glow of the streetlights outside. Despite my lack of vision, my sense of touch was definitely working, and there was no doubt that kisses were being peppered on the inside of my thigh, moving right up to the most sensitive spot on my body.
Three
Come Home—One Republic
Chasing Pavements—Adele
Ash
The day after Christmas was always one of my favorite days of the year—that was, until that year. I woke up with a pounding headache, a stomach begging to be purged, and the worst case of cotton mouth ever, but none of those things compared to the awful empty feeling I had inside ever since Scarlett left the day before. The attempt to drink my woes away at Nicholas’s house only led to more problems as the girl from the night of Evie’s funeral attempted to seduce me in the kitchen. Thankfully, Jess walked in just at that time to save me. And by save me, I mean she kicked the girl out and told her she wasn’t welcome at the house ever again. There was no way in hell I would’ve touched her, or anyone else for that matter, regardless of how much I had to drink, but Jess taking care of it for me made it much less awkward.
I stumbled into the bathroom and stared at my reflection. I looked nearly as bad as I felt with dark circles under my eyes and stringy, oily hair plastered to my face. After brushing my teeth, I took a long shower, trying to wash the funk off, but that unsettling feeling still sat heavy in my stomach even after I was clean and dressed. I didn’t want to spend the day moping around the house, thinking about what she was doing, so I called Max to see if he had plans.
An hour later, as I sat playing Xbox with him, I realized hanging out at the apartment he shared with Scarlett wasn’t doing much to help me not think about her. Everywhere I looked, I saw something of hers, and it took everything in me not to go lie in her bed just to feel closer to her. I was losing my mind wondering what was going on in Miami, and if I was honest with myself, I knew I was petrified I was going to lose her to him again. I hadn’t heard from her since her plane landed the previous night, and I refrained from calling to get a status update. And by status update, I meant when she was coming home. As long as Rat was simply alive, I couldn’t r
eally care less about his ass.
The longer I sat there, the more that stomach-turning feeling of something not being right continued to eat at me. I knew it wasn’t just the remnants of the hangover; it was a real gut check. Abruptly, I dropped the controller on the couch next to me and jumped up.
“I’m going to get her,” I blurted out.
“What? What do you mean?” Max asked, looking up at me like I lost my mind.
“I’m not going to let him weasel his way back in. I finally got her back, and I’ll be damned if I lose her again,” I explained. “I’m going to claim what’s mine.”
“Well, I’m going with you then,” he replied as he stood up next to me. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”
I didn’t answer him, because honestly, I had a bad feeling about it too. Instead, I waited silently as he threw some clothes in a duffel bag and checked the apartment to make sure all the lights and electronics were off. We stopped off at my house for me to do the same before heading off to the airport. Once we got there, I realized I had no idea when the next flight was or anything else. It took a little bit of time for us to get the tickets purchased, and then even longer to wait for our flight, but finally, at six thirty in the evening, we were airborne, and I was on my way to get my butterfly.
It was late on the east coast when our plane touched down, and I was completely exhausted by the time we got to the hotel. I decided to wait until the morning to call Scarlett in case she was already in bed. I assumed she was most likely drained, both physically and emotionally, from the events over the past few days. Plus, I had no idea what hotel she was even in.
That night, I got the worst sleep ever. I tossed and turned with visions of Scarlett and Mason together running on loop through my mind. I had never been so happy to hear the alarm clock go off at 7:00 a.m. I knew it was early, but I couldn’t wait another minute to hear her voice. I grabbed my phone and hit the first name listed in my favorites.