Read Online Surrender to Me by Monica James - Free Book Online

to his rock star
image.
    We had a lovely day sightseeing, and Jasper has fallen in love with
Singapore. It‘s nice having him here, but it's going to be torture saying
goodbye. I try not to think about that and decide to concentrate on more
important things, like his taut biceps flexing as he plays with his earpiece.
    “Chuck, more of Shooter’s guitar and less of Lucas’ kick drum.”
    He is looking over at the sound engineer with a serious look on his
face, waiting for him to tweak it. I know how much of a perfectionist he is,
and judging by the way Chuck is fiddling with the endless knobs, he knows it
too.
    After he tweaks it, Jasper sends him a happy thumbs up, continuing
on with his rocky ballad.
    All this music lingo falls on deaf ears, no pun intended.
    What doesn't fall on deaf ears is a voice I wish I never had to hear
again.
    “Hello skank.”
    The wind rushes out of my lungs, and I have to remind myself to
breathe, because I am staring into the eyes of my arch nemesis.
    The one and only, Indie Scott. 
     
    *****
     
    Holding onto the barstool for support, I take in all things Indie,
and she looks exactly how I remember- A poster girl for fakery.
    An outfit I'm pretty certain she purchased at ‘Whores R Us,’ just
adds to her falseness. Gold hot pants and a "top," that could pass
for a belt, is her current attire, and I wish I could burn my corneas with acid
as I have just seen way too much flesh.
    My mouth is agape, and I rub at my eyes with the heels of my hands,
just in case my exhausting love making has left me delirious. Nope sadly, she
is real, unlike her breasts.
    “Well, looks like they let anyone in here,” she sneers, looking me
up and down in disgust.
    I am stunned, but I need to pull it together and not give her the
satisfaction of witnessing my shock.
    “Yeah sure seems that way,” I reply smugly. “Holy crap, I need
sunglasses. Your outfit is literally blinding me with its slutiness.” I place a
hand over my eyes to protect them from the abomination of her attire.
    “Oh please, you're just jealous,” she hisses.
    “Of what? Looking like a street walker,” I quickly reply.
    I can see I have struck a nerve. Win for me!
    She smooths a hand over her body, and cocks her hand on her hip.
“Oh, you wish you looked this good.”
    Letting out a brief, sarcastic laugh, I reply, “Good? Looks like you
failed 2nd grade English if you define what you're wearing as good.”
    She is infuriated as she sneers inches away from my face, “Don't be
hating on me because I'm on tour with your boyfriend.”
    That wipes the sarcastic smile off my face. She has brought up a
valid point, what the hell is she doing here?
    “Oh, he didn't tell you?” she asks innocently, even though she is
well aware of what the answer is. “I've been on tour with him all month. And
you know what they say, what happens on tour, stays on tour. But in your case,
I can make an exception and tell you all the juicy details if you like. I can
start off by telling you what happened in Boston,” she gloats, flicking back
her hair, and pursing her lips.
    Boston?
    Staring down at my white knuckles, which are crushing the beer
bottle in my hands, I tell myself bottling her is not the right thing to do. 
But as I peer up at her self-satisfied face, I have to remind myself of the
reasons why I shouldn’t.
    Just as the pros outweigh the cons, the barstool next me scuffs
across the floor, announcing the arrival of Jasper.
    He can read my expression instantly as he places a reassuring hand
on my leg. Looking over at him and lifting an inquisitive brow, he opens his
mouth, in attempts to hopefully explain what the hell is going on. But Indie
interrupts as she gushes, “Oh Jasper, you sounded amazing as usual.”
    Jasper gives her a weak smile. “Thanks Indie. Everything okay here?”
he asks, directing the question my way.
    It most certainly is not okay, but before I have time to reply, Indie
nods. “Oh yeah, just us girls catching