Flirting With Chaos by Kenya Wright Read Free Book Online Page A

“Maybe tonight will be the night when I give some hot guy my apple.”
    “If you don’t vomit all over him first.”
    “Low blow, Jude.” I made my lips form a fake frown. “Low blow. One day I’ll find a guy that won’t mind being vomited on while he takes my apple, and then you’ll feel stupid for all the times you picked on me.”
    “Well, that guy will have to pry that lush apple from my cold, dead hands.”
    I burst out laughing. “That statement really doesn’t work in this context.”
    “It’s the truth though. You handed me the opportunity to take your apple. I’m not giving it back.”
    He better be joking.
    “I took it back,” I pointed out.
    “You can’t take that back.”
    “I really can.”
    He’s no longer taking my V-card. He must be playing with me.
    He laughed.
    I took that as a good sign. There was no way he was serious about still being my first. You don’t have a girl ask you to take her virginity and then run upstairs and shower like it’s no big deal. In fact, I’d taken his action as “Hey, Rain, we’re just friends. I’ll do it if you want to. If not, no big deal.” Granted, I didn’t know what I’d expected him to do. Maybe I was being a bit ridiculous. Or, perhaps Vicky telling me about how she had given him a blow job earlier set my desire for him back a bit.
    We approached the entrance to the VIP area. Two big guys stepped to the side as we entered and headed up the stairs. Jude crashed onto the closest couch. I continued standing as I drank in all of the excitement around me. Black leather chairs and glass tables littered VIP. I spotted a pop star here and there. Other media-noteworthy loitered about—kids of famous parents mainly, a D-list actress, a couple of comedians, and a group of old guys that I think were popular musicians around my dad’s day. Bodyguards and security drifted among the stars. Marijuana smoke lingered in the air. Our space hovered over all of the people down below as the club became packed and the music soared to a higher level.
    “Hey, Rico.” Jude motioned for a waiter with a blond mohawk and polka dot suspenders to come over. “Get Rain a tray with some cups of chocolate, cakes, and anything else down there.”
    “Jude meant please get it,” I corrected.
    “Thanks.” Rico smiled and ran off to do Jude’s bidding.
    “You shouldn’t boss people around, not even the staff.” I wagged my finger at him.
    “Why not?” He gently pulled me down next to him. “People do what I say because of who I am.”
    “And who are you?” I gave him a skeptical look.
    “The god of heavy metal rock Kaden Everett’s son, and jazz legend Tommy Boy Everett’s grandson. Music runs through my blood, woman. They think I’ll be some big name in the music industry one day.”
    “You will.”
    “If Dad lets me.”
    “Huh?”
    “Dad’s trying to produce the whole damn album and thinks it’ll be a great bonding experience for us.” He laid his head back and closed his eyes. “He’s already called writers and all these people I never heard of.”
    Not good. Jude wrote all of his music himself. Everything inspired him. Once, I’d witnessed him staring at the sky for an hour, humming a tune in his head. By the end of the day, he’d written a song with a sad melody. The next night, I’d sat in his studio as he produced the song himself, all with electronic instruments. Days later, we’d taken on the project of making a video for his song. It was just supposed to be something fun to pass the time. I’d painted a huge mural of a dark sky with many of his song’s elements floating between bright stars, and then videotaped him singing half-naked in front of it while I flicked various colors of paint onto his bare chest, making sure to capture his essence on film. For a good laugh, we’d uploaded it to YouTube and tweeted the link to his friends. By the end of the day, it had received over a thousand views. By the end of the week, views had