“Let’s go.” He reaches for my bag, tossing it to me. I try to figure out if I should put out the cigarette or keep it on principle. Not letting go of my arm, he drags me with him.
“What are you doing?” I pull back, which does nothing except make me stumble. Never in my life have I felt less graceful, and that’s ridiculous. After all, this is Rhys whom I’ve known forever. Yet, in reality, the man tugging me along is the Rock God—hot and strong and completely unpredictable. Merely touching him makes my arm feel like it’s been singed, as if my body ignites as soon as I’m near him.
“We need to talk,” he grumbles, ignoring the two men running behind us and calling his name.
“Rhys, I think they want you.” I jerk my arm back, which does nothing, but he does stop.
“Dude, you can’t leave, man.” A dark-haired, thin rocker guy with a crazy mullet runs up panting as if he’s finished a marathon.
“Dallas, I was there an hour ago. I don’t want to be around them right now.”
“But—”
“If anyone asks, Gia’s with me.” His hand slides down my arm and I shiver as his warm fingers take my cold ones. The poor guy looks confused as his eyes dart from my face to Rhys.
“You’re really leaving?”
“Yep, see you tonight.” Rhys takes the cigarette from me. I’ve been holding it like an idiot. He takes a drag and drops it, snuffing it out with his boot.
“I don’t want you smoking.” He looks down at me and my heart flutters. His brown eyes are almost black in this light. His hair is wild, and all I want is for this moment to never end. If I could stop time, I would.
Wait, did he just tell me I can’t smoke?
“Granger? You need a coat, man. You’ll freeze your balls off.”
“I’m not afraid of the cold.” He smirks, but they’re right—Rhys is only wearing a faded black thermal.
“You need a coat. What are you do—” I say to his back since we’re on the go. He bangs the doors open. A mob moves in, almost as if they’re attacking us. It’s the only way I can describe this madness. They’re like a pack of hungry wolves, stalking him. Screaming at how much they love him, and can they have his autograph. People are taking pictures with their phones while I cover my face with my hand.
Usually, Rhys will talk to his fans. Not today. He maneuvers us forward, not engaging. His hand tightens on mine and I cling to him with both hands, giving up on hiding my face. Clearly my boots were not made for the ice.
“This is just fucking insanity,” I yell at his back. My only answer is his hand squeezing mine as he leads us to a large, black SUV.
The celebrity chasers are screaming at us, so I bury my face in his shoulder. When he opens the passenger door, I jump in. Thankfully the SUV is covered in frost, so as soon as he shuts the door, no one can see inside.
Jesus Christ, they’re ten times worse with Rhys than they are with Nuke. He gets bombarded.
I can’t believe this, but I might actually feel bad for him. Which is ridiculous because this is what he wanted. This is what he’s worked so hard for, dreamed of, but at what cost? Because what I’m seeing is a man who has everything, and yet he’s drowning.
This is why my brother decided to leave the band. He knew what he wanted, and it wasn’t to be a rock star.
Inside the SUV it’s like a freezer. In all the madness, I barely registered how bitter cold it is outside. Rhys looks over at me, both of us slightly panting, allowing me to see our breaths.
“You okay?” His brown eyes sweep my face.
The craziness ceases, and it’s just us. Suddenly I’m not cold anymore. Beneath his stare, I’m on fire.
“Yes.” It comes out raspy.
His eyes dip to my mouth.
Oh God, this is it. This is when he kisses me. I can feel it, thick, powerful.
Rhys Granger wants me.
I lean slightly forward, forgetting that people are chanting his name. Not even caring that they’re scraping the snow and frost off the front of the window.
Kiss me.
I close my eyes. His body heat caresses me as I wait.
Kiss me.
“Gia,” his voice rumbles, forcing my eyes open.
What the hell? I’m almost too confused to understand that maybe I was reading him wrong. I stare at him.
“Put your seatbelt on.” He turns on the engine. The defroster blasts on, causing me to jump. The warm air blisters my already-sensitive cheeks, which burn from humiliation. What is wrong with me?
He places a hand on my seat’s headrest to look out the rear window, his eyes locking with mine for a second as my heart leaps to my throat. Then he looks back, and I turn to watch the sea of strangers chant their love for him.
God, I’m no better than the groupies. To be honest, I am a groupie. I’m following a man around believing that he’s the one. With some difficulty, I try to buckle myself in, but my poor fingers are numb.
Warm hands push mine away. As if I’m an annoying child, he quickly buckles me in, then spits out, “Did Cynthia not get you gloves?”
Cynthia? Who’s Cynthia? My brain is crazy right now. God, Cynthia is the band’s stylist. I’m losing it. Wait, is he insinuating he was the one who got me the Sherpa coat?
Rhys glances at me, frowning. “Gia? Do you have gloves?”
“Did you have Cynthia buy me this coat?”
He ignores my question, lays on the horn, and puts it in drive. “Let me know if I’m going to hit anyone.”
I put my numb hands under my legs hoping that he turned on the heated seats. My ass is starting to warm up, so I guess he did. People wave and surprisingly do move out of the way at last. Maybe they’ve figured out he’s actually leaving.
“Holy shit.” I stare in shock. “Oh. My. God.”
A woman and her friend are jumping up and down. One pointing frantically at the friend who’s topless with Rock and God tattooed, one on each breast.
“What?” He smirks at me. “You wouldn’t tattoo my name on your tits?”
Rhys slows down and gives the girls a double honk, causing them to scream, “We love you!”
“Um. No. I would not have Rock God tattooed on my breasts. I don’t even like tattoos,” I grumble, gazing out the window at the gray morning. It looks cold, although the snow is white and pretty.
His mouth twitches. “Tell me something, Brat. This lying, does it just come naturally?”
My stomach flips, which bugs me because he’s not being nice, but the way he says Brat makes me instantly wet, even if he is an egomaniac.
Arching a brow at him, “You’re used to ‘yes’ people, Rhys. You’ve become a superstar. I told you I’m not impressed.” I reach for my bag to get my sunglasses. Sure, it’s gray outside and completely not needed, but whatever.
He turns and flashes me a grin, then throws back his head to laugh. My eyes hungrily travel down his neck, and I try to breathe. It’s been so long since I’ve seen him laugh, smile, or be interested in something.
“You’re right.” He nods and grins, gunning it onto the freeway.
I’m kind of surprised he owns it. Clearly all hope isn’t lost on him, because what makes Rhys Granger incredible is not that he’s beautiful; it’s that he’s got this charisma that makes people tattoo shit about him on their body.
He’s gifted, brilliant, and imposing.
No wonder people worship him. He makes everyone want to be near his greatness, listen to his gift of music, and get caught in his sphere.
My stomach flips, and I bite my bottom lip so I don’t scream I love you. Instead, I turn my head and pretend to watch whatever landscape is whirling by.
RHYS
Past – Twenty-seven years old
Minneapolis, Minnesota
I glance over at Gia as she sits looking out the window. I know she’s been hanging out with Nuke and my road crew, which I shouldn’t care about, but I do. Jealousy. It’s a new emotion for me.
“You’re too thin,” lookin
g over at her. Her big eyes stare at me like I’ve insulted her, but it’s true. She looks thinner than even a few days ago. My need to feed and protect her kicks in.
Christ, what’s happening to me? I almost grin at my caveman thoughts. I need to feed my woman before we mate.
“You hungry?”
“I’m starving,” she snips and takes her hair down, running her fingers through her long curls as she recrosses her legs. It’s a simple thing; I’ve seen hundreds of women do the very same thing. But there’s something about Gia, the way she moves. She’s graceful and delicate, fierce and determined.
My hands tighten on the leather steering wheel. My chest almost burns for her, which aggravates me. And just like that, I hear music. It’s like she’s my muse.
I clear my throat. I’m acting like a fucking teenager excited to have a girl sit next to me, not a twenty-seven-year-old man who’s a goddamn rock star.
I should have let Misty blow me earlier. That was stupid on my part. Could’ve taken the edge off.
But my dick wants only one woman, and I’ve got her sitting next to me. Let’s be honest—I’m a depraved fuck, and I’m not ashamed to admit it.
I crave her. I’m ready to lock her in my room, eat her cunt, fuck her so hard she’s raw, then turn her around and claim her ass. Maybe tie her to my bed, feed her, and bathe her.
I take a breath. I need to get off the freeway and find a place to eat. I can’t believe I don’t trust myself to be alone with her.
But I don’t.
I make a U-turn and pull into a place called Bunny’s. It’s a big place and the parking lot is crowded. Fuck it, I’ll take my fans interrupting me rather than have to fight myself.
Yeah, I need to get out of here. This energy that is us is suffocating. Christ. I’m like a dog that smells a bitch in heat.
I turn off the engine and look over at her. She sits, arms crossed, completely shutting herself off and staring out the passenger side window. It pisses me off.
“Look, Brat—”
“Stop calling me that,” she hisses. She’s wild, untamed. Again, my cock responds.
Mine.
“God, Rhys.” She grabs her bag and throws open the door. “Do you even hear yourself?” She slams it before I can respond.
“Christ.” I twist around to the back seat for the beanie I was wearing this morning. I take a breath before I vault outside into the fucking Minnesota winter.
Gia’s already at the doors waiting as she jumps up and down, her hair falling around her shoulders like a waterfall of dark chocolate.
She’s beautiful and she knows it. That’s a dangerous combination. My cock throbs. I was hoping the frigid cold would make it calm down, but the thought of dominating her overrules even the weather.
Screw this. I should take her to the bathroom and fuck her in a stall. Slam my cock into her warm, wet cunt over and over.
Then we can enjoy breakfast, or is it lunch?
“You do know you’re human, right? Like you’re not really a god,” she says tightly, dipping under my arm as I hold open the door. “You can’t just demand and say rude things. I’m grossed out how much you’ve let fame—”
“Shhh.” I grab her, causing her to gasp as we both look at the hostess.
“Two, please.” I smile, using the waitress as an excuse to dip my nose into Gia’s vanilla-scented neck.
“Welcome to Bunn… Oh my God. Ohmyyyygod.” The hostess does what they all do and starts screaming, then covers her mouth as if that’s gonna help.
“Dear God.” Gia pulls away and rolls her eyes. “Can we sit in there?” She points at a room to the right. Looks like there are pool tables there, but no one is playing.
“Of course. Oh wow.” She fans herself with a menu. “I’m your number one fan. This is so amazing. I’m going to the concert tonight. And… Oh my God, you’re here.” She looks like she might start crying, so I take pity on her and let go of Gia to take the menu.
“Do you have a pen?”
She looks at me, then grabs one, her hands shaking. Any other time I would talk to her. She’s cute in a good-girl way. But all I can think about is Gia and the confused, almost sad look she’s giving us.
Again, anger rises in my chest. What the fuck is wrong with her? Not that she has to be impressed, but she doesn’t have to look like she feels pity for me.
“What’s your name, beautiful?”
Gia huffs loudly, which I ignore and focus on the hostess.
“It’s Teri. My name is Teri…” I scribble my standard autograph when I come to a bar and hand it back to her.
“Is there a bartender on?”
All she does is shake her head yes, clutching the menu to her breast. As I take Gia’s hand, I walk us to the back area and nod at a stunned couple sitting on a bench as we pass.
It’s dark, and it looks like this area doesn’t get busy until later, so I pick the corner table and look for someone to get me a drink.
“I’ll go get us some menus and see if I can ask them not to tell everyone you’re here.” Gia shimmies out of her coat, tossing it onto the other chair. As she goes to walk by, I reach for her delicate wrist.
She wears an oversized, soft gray sweater and dark skinny jeans. Again, that fierce protectiveness comes over me.
“I don’t want you hanging out with Nuke anymore.”
“What?” She puffs out as if she’s having a hard time catching her breath.
“Just sit.” I kick out the chair, tug her down, and scoot the chair close so that her legs are in between mine. My hands go to rub her legs up and down as I formulate how much I actually want to tell her.
“Rhys,” she whispers, her lips parted, but her eyes dart around as if she doesn’t trust me.
Wise. I wouldn’t trust me either. She leans back to let the waitress set down the menus.
“Hi, I’m Dawn and I’ll be your waitress.” She waves her hand for a busboy to set down some waters.
“We’re ready.” I take the menu from Gia’s hand.
“Rhys, just st—”
“Two bacon cheeseburgers, french fries for one, and onion rings for the other, medium rare and Tabasco.”
“Anything to drink?”
“Bottle of Jack Daniel’s.” She’s frantically writing but that stops her. “Oh.” Her eyes dart to mine, then Gia’s. “We can’t serve the bottle, Mr. I mean… Granger.”
“I’ll pay extra.” I flash her a smile. It depends on the place, but ninety percent of the time it works. Then again, this joint actually has people in it, so I put her out of her misery. “That’s okay. How about four shots of Jack and the food.”
The waitress, who doesn’t even look like she’s out of high school, sighs and smiles.
“I can do that.” She turns, then comes back with, “Can I just say it’s an honor to have you in he—”
“Stop, please. Look I’m a vegetarian,” Gia interrupts her, causing the poor waitress to drop her pad as if Gia’s the one who scares her. I lean back in my chair and smile. This is us: a constant push and pull.
“I’ll have fruit and some sourdough toast.”
“Just bring us what I ordered,” I demand. The waitress looks over at Gia who glares at me like I’m a monster.
“And toast and fruit,” Gia demands right back.
“Um. I’ll go get your drinks.” The waitress turns and almost bumps into a busboy. She tugs him along with her. Our energy is so volatile, even the poor waitress is running from us.
“Why are you acting like this? I can order for myself. I’ve been doing it my whole—”
“Why are you a liar?” That makes her eyes narrow.
“I have to use the restroom.” She stands, grabbing her bag.
“Sit down. I have a few things I want to say.” I jerk her back into the chair, our faces inches apart.
“I. Have. To. Pee. You lunatic.”
“Hold it.” I scowl.
She blinks at me, her face flushed with anger. “What’s
happened to you?” She stands again. “I’m going to the restroom unless you’d like me to squat right here.” She kicks the chair back and walks toward the restroom sign.
“Fuck.” I toss my cigarettes on the table, pick up my phone, and toss that too. I have zero desire to see what’s going on. All I care about is the green-eyed witch I’m obsessed with. While I wait for her, I look around at the room, grinning at a random lyric that infiltrates my head.
Like a switch on the wall, you turn me on. A smile, a laugh, a wink and nod. And all the while you turn me on.
You turn me on.
“So here we go.” The waitress comes by, jolting me out of Rhysland and back into the real world. She places what looks like two double shots in front of me.
“Thanks.” I smile at her but get distracted by Gia coming out of the restroom. She slides her sunglasses on dramatically as she holds up her hands at a group of people talking to her. And I can’t stop myself from smiling.
I like her a lot.
“God.” She sits. Putting the sunglasses back on top of her head, she looks down at the massive glass of whiskey in front of her and wrinkles her nose.
“Can I get a cup of coffee, please?” She smiles at the waitress and the whole room lights up. I almost reach for my heart.
“You betcha.” She rushes behind the bar area.
Gia pushes the whiskey toward me. She’s put on makeup and smells like vanilla. I lean over to inhale her.
“Here you go, fresh coffee.” The waitress dumps it in front of her and turns to me. “I hope I’m not bothering you and all… but can I get a selfie with you?”
“Of course.” I stand as she squeals, then shyly moves toward me, but she’s small and can’t seem to get us in the shot.
Gia sets down her coffee. “Here, let me.” She takes the waitress’s phone. I sling an arm around her shoulder and smile and the waitress instantly bursts into tears.
Perfect.
I give her shoulder a squeeze. “I’m so embarrassed. But you’re the Rock God.” She laughs and cries at the same time, trying to smile at Gia.
“Nah, I’m just a dick. Ask her.” I motion my head at Gia who is busy snapping photos.
Rise: A Second Chance Rockstar Romance (Rock God Book 1) Page 10
