Stage Dive: Lick, Play, Love – My Life as a Groupie

It’s getting easier to handle the confession of my groupie-ness.

I had to live with it a bit. Walk around in it’s skin. In far higher heels than I’d normally wear with both less skin and more skin if you know what I mean.

Surprisingly easy to become comfortable with being a character in someone else’s book and not just any character – but – dramatic drum roll – the other woman.

In my new life as a groupie – which may prove to be more awe inspiring and indelible than my actual life, especially if Kylie Scott’s Play does it’s USA Today Bestselling bit like it’s predecessor Lick did, I am gorgeous, I have blonde hair, I am stacked and I leg hump. I also have nice manners, faultless actually but more importantly: I CHANGE EVERYTHING.

How can you not like me? I am the groupie with the power to morph story. I am a bit part player with style. I deserve my own entire book and Amazon ranking and I won’t rest till I…. its exhausting being a change monkey groupie. I think I have a headache.

What’s better though – I have a snippet of my staring role. Exclusive. Rare. Valuable and ALL MINE. Except I’m sharing it with you.

A woman who’d been hanging with the record company executives approached, her high-heeled boots tapping across the floor. Her smile was tentative. The woman was gorgeous, breasts about a billion times the size of mine (granted, not hard to do) and blond hair in a cool pixie cut. “Mal?”

He turned and his entire face lit up at the sight of the girl. My insides knotted. Yes, fine. I might have been a bit jealous.

“Ainslie, when did you arrive? Looking good.”

He sounded super happy. They hugged. Then they hugged some more. The girl giggled and sighed, pressing herself against him. Holy shit, was that bitch actually feeling up my fake boyfriend in front of me? She was practically humping his leg. Given the dynamic between the two, there could be no doubting what their relationship was about. I’d finally met one of Mal’s fuck buddies. It had to happen. Surprise was stupid and I had no real right to hurt feelings. Pity that didn’t make the pain disappear.

I could feel the other women’s eyes on me, boring holes into my skull. No way was I returning their stares. Mal had obviously found someone to scratch his itch. Meanwhile, my face was heating up. The entire scene was fucking horrible and embarrassing.

“Hey, Mal,” said Lizzy, interrupting the lovers’ reunion. “Should we invite Anne’s friend Reece along to eat? He often does stuff with us on Sundays.”

Oh the wonderful loyal little shit stirrer. I appreciated the thought, but her intentions were misplaced. I didn’t need protecting.
“I think Reece said he’d be busy,” I said.

My sister played the wide-eyed innocent so well. “No, really? Why don’t you give him a call and check, Anne?”
I shook my head. “Maybe another–”

“Fuck no, Lizzy. I mean, I don’t think there’ll be room.” Mal’s arms remained around the woman. Then he noticed the faces of his friends, the disapproving and the curious both. For a moment he looked confused, blinking, his forehead creased. Then he stepped back from her, shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. Talk about compromised. Our fake relationship had entirely slipped his mind. His Chucks shifted restlessly.

Also, apparently the thought of making Reece jealous no longer appealed to him. But I hadn’t wanted to call Reece either. I’d been perfectly happy as things were. Either way, right now, it didn’t much matter. This woman had changed everything.

Ainslie put a hand on his arm. “Is something wrong?”

“It’s cool,” I said, not on the verge of tears. The air was just really dusty in the old building. “Why don’t you go for a drink with your friend and catch up?”

“I thought we were gonna do something,” he said.

“Yeah, but . . .”

Eyes guarded, Mal looked at me. Then he looked right through me. I wasn’t even there. Whatever he was thinking, it didn’t show on his face. It couldn’t be easy for someone who was used to getting what they wanted when they wanted it to back down from an obvious offer of sex. Let’s be honest, his impulse control was limited at best.

“I’m sorry, you are?” Ainslie asked. Perfectly polite, I couldn’t fault the woman’s manners.

“Ainslie, this is Mal’s new girlfriend, Anne. Anne, this is Ainslie.” Fucking great, even Ev knew her. This one was a regular. What had happened to never seeing him with the same woman twice?

“Girlfriend?” Ainslie laughed uncertainly, eyes darting around the group. No one laughed with her. Christ on a crutch, this was awkward.

Mal stepped closer. “I was just saying hi to a friend. What’s the big deal?”