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Chapter Eighteen - Phoenix, Arizona

"Please come with me? Think of the awesome after party."

"Is this about the two chimps following you around?"

"No! I just want you to do the honor of coming to the VMAs with me."

"Brooke."

I sighed. "C'mon Jas."

"You're tutor is pacing. I wouldn't piss her off. She looks like she means business."

My eyes narrowed. "I could fire you."

Jasper grinned and cranked up his amp. "You could, but who else would you invisibily rope during Stuck Like Glue?"

"Will you at least think about it? Dad would like that you were there. Y'know for security."

Jasper snorted. His Jersey accent was coming out full force. "It's because the entire band signed 'do not touch' clauses on you the first tour."

I smiled. "That was when I was a kid."

Jasper looked amused. "You're still a kid."

I stood up. "I'm sixteen...and a half. Just think about it, will ya?"

Jasper leaned forward. "I'll let you know."

I hopped off the equipment trunk. Jas hadn't been kidding. My tutor was wearing a rut in the ground.

"I said a five minute break," my tutor admonished.

"Sorry. I was having technical difficulty," I said with a smile. We climbed back up on my bus.

Jasper Yevetti was my lead guitarist and 100% no-nonsense Italian. He was twenty, looked good on camera, and would be a totally safe choice to take to the VMAs. The first day he met me, he told my dad he liked redheads. I shot back and said I liked blondes.

It was a perfect working relationship. If he went with me, I was guaranteed a drama-free night.

I could so use one of those.

-----------------------------------

After a full day of tutoring, I had just enough time to grab a quick salad before I landed in the hair and makeup chair. The stylist had just finished with me when I heard a tap at my dressing room door.

"Am I good?" I asked. My stylist nodded in the mirror's reflection.

I slid out of the chair and walked to the door. I peeked through the security hole.

Trevor.

I opened the door. He held up a bouquet of flowers.

"Desert lilies," he said. "I figured they were the perfect Arizona concert flower."

I couldn't help but smile. I was a sucker for flowers. I stepped back.

"Come in."

My stylist was quickly cleaning up her supplies. I walked over to the makeup counter, removed some fake flowers from a vase and put the fresh in.

"They're beautiful," I said. I turned around. Trevor had on his Grenadine outfit - baggy jeans, white dress shirt, black vest, and sneakers. I squinted. Something about him was different.

"They added little extensions to my hair, spiked it, and died it blonder," he explained. I smiled. I could hear dad's voice in my head. Trevor really was beginning to look like a clone.

It was kind of a creepy thought.

"It looks nice. Different."

He laughed. "I've got to fit the mold."

I sat down on the couch. He sat beside me. My stylist shot me a smile and left.

"What's up?" I asked. Trevor leaned forward and tilted his head in my direction.

"I heard you're going to the VMAs."

"Where'd you hear that from?"

"Well, I saw it on MTV.com. They listed everyone that was going to attend this morning."

Rick hadn't wasted any time. I had to wonder if he had my name on there all along.

"Oh. Yeah, I'm going Rick's flying me out and back."

"Who are you taking along?"

He looked so hopeful that I almost laughed. Jasper's comment about the chimps came to mind.

"I've asked Jasper my guitarist. If he says no, I'm taking Noah."

"You'd seriously take your brother instead of me?"

I sighed. "Trev..."

"And what's this about Jasper?"

Oh dear God.

"I just want to go with a friend. If Kay didn't have school, I would take her."

"Why? For the kiss cam?"

"What?"

"Your popularity would skyrocket with a little girl-on-girl kiss. I can see it now -- Brooke goes wild on MTV."

My eyes widened. I didn't know how the conversation turned so fast.

"You know, I'd appreciate it if you pulled your chauvinistic pig head out of your ass," I snapped.

Trevor looked like I had slapped him. "What are you talking about?"

"Just because I'm not taking you doesn't mean you have to be mean to me."

"I'm not being mean to you," Trevor said gently. He took my hand. "Can't I be jealous? It's bad enough to put up with camera boy. Now I have to worry about your guitar guy and best friends and...it's a lot to handle for a guy that just wants to kiss you."

I didn't know what to say. There was a lot to decipher in that one statement. Before I had a chance to sort it all out, Trevor cupped my face and kissed me.

It was just like the kiss he gave me on stage the first night. It was a confident, 'I want you' kiss. His fingers smoothed down my jaw. I took the hint and opened my mouth, allowing him in. My arms wrapped around his waist; my hands momentarily got tangled in his pants chain.

"You're so hot," he said huskily. I hadn't realized his lips had left mine. His hand snaked under the top of my shirt. He squeezed my breast. I wrapped my hand around his arm.

"We've got a show to do," I said.

Trevor dropped his hand. We sat close together, foreheads touching for several seconds.

"Take me to the VMAs," he said. "It can be our night. I want to make love to you. I want to show you I'm the right guy for you."

My heart sped up. I thought about how he had wanted to wait for a special night. I couldn't think of a more special night than attending my first awards show.

But then again, I had just slept with Nate and things were falling apart. What if I slept with Trevor and the same thing happened? Plus, what would happen if the guys found out I had slept with both of them? Or worse yet, what would the paparazzi do with the information if they found out?

"I'm going to have to think about it," I said honestly. Trevor stood up. He straddled my legs. He took my hand and pressed it against himself. Flames of deire shot through me.

"Don't think too long, okay?" he said earnestly. Before I could respond, he dropped my hand and walked out of the dressing room. The door closing sounded like a stampede to my ears. I stared up at the mottled ceiling.

"Fuck," I said aloud.

What the hell was I going to do?