The Rockstar I’ve Loved for So Long by Marian Tee Read Free Book Online Page B

best not to remember. 
     
    “Dylan?” 16-year-old Bree called out as she gingerly tried the door to his spacious penthouse apartment, one of the few that had a much-coveted view of Central Park. 
    The door swung open easily, surprising Bree and making her more than a little nervous as she stepped past the doorway. The living room was fully lit, which was also weird. At eleven-thirty in the morning, the sun shining outside its windows would be more than enough to flood the entire apartment with light.
    There were a lot of sleeping bodies on the floor, in various states of undress, and she immediately looked away when the woman sprawled on one of the velvet couches turned towards her, revealing her naked breasts.
    She had to step over several bodies to make her way to Dylan’s bedroom and found it similarly occupied but without its master in sight. Bree flinched, realizing that the threesome on the bed were still intimately joined. 
    She quietly slipped out and made her way to the other part of the apartment, heading to the patio – a place so expansive that it easily accommodated the hundred or so guests that would attend the parties that Dylan liked to throw. 
    The patio, spectacular with its frameless glass walls and ceilings, was also littered with unconscious guests, and they slept next to empty wine bottles, beer cans, and glasses. Bree was tempted to hold her breath as she made her way further out, the smell of puke overpowering.
    She almost gave up searching for Dylan when she heard sucking sounds from behind the ten-foot-tall walls of the giant custom-made Jacuzzi.
    Bree followed the sound even as she became nauseous with fear of what she would see. Please let it not be—
    A blond woman was on her knees, her purple bikini top untied and hanging loosely over her breasts while her bikini bottom lay discarded on the floor.
    The woman was giving Dylan a hand job. He was clearly sleeping, but his…his…was not.
    When the woman looked up, Bree realized she recognized her. When their eyes met, she was again stunned to realize that the other woman recognized her, too.
    “Henrietta.” Bree couldn’t keep the revulsion from her voice. This woman was only two years older than her, but it didn’t feel that way. Henrietta was a woman – she was not. Henrietta knew how to please a man – she did not. Henrietta had experienced pleasure in Dylan’s arms – Bree had not – and she feared Dylan was determined she would never do so.
    “And you,” Henrietta drawled mockingly as she rose to her feet, uncaring of her semi-naked state, “are no doubt the famous Bree.”
    What had Dylan told Henrietta about her? 
    Henrietta’s taunting laugh drew Bree’s gaze back to her. “Are you wondering why I know about you?” 
    Before Bree could lie, Henrietta was already speaking again. “Don’t bother lying. Dylan tells me everything.”
    Bree sucked her breath in, the painfulness of those words surprising even her. 
    “I know all about you, how you two met in a school concert, how you totally had him smitten because, you know, you’ve become his little sister – a replacement for the family he’s lost.”
    Henrietta’s slim shoulders shrugged. “I don’t really give a shit if you want to be his sister.” Her eyes narrowed, her tone sharpening as she added curtly, “As long, of course, you don’t have any ideas about becoming anything more than his sister.”

 
    Chapter Six
     
    “Oh my God.” The shocked gasp snatched Bree out of her reverie. Bree let out a little gasp herself, not realizing the memories had become so painful it made even breathing unbearable for her.
    “Are you all right?” The voice sounded closer. 
    Bree turned blindly towards the voice. A second or two crawled by before she could see past the tears. A younger girl was talking to her, a petite blue-eyed blonde in a strapless dress so shiny it was like a disco ball.
    Farica de Koningh. 
    The girl came from one of Europe’s oldest