He looks over at my brother’s bike. Surely, he’ll stop me…
He doesn’t.
Pain. It’s agonizing, almost as if I can’t survive another moment. But I do. I breathe in and out as I make my way over to Axel.
I hesitate. He said he loved me… he made me believe. Yet Rhys stands in the rain, the concert raging behind us.
I get on the bike, wondering how I will live with this agony.
He was the one.
My heart beats for him, and now it’s over.
It will never beat the same again.
RHYS
Present – Thirty-five years old
Paris, France
“Why?” she yells at me. Her long, wet hair sticks to her face. This is the moment I die and become reborn.
Her grief will heal; mine will fester and ooze its poison, growing stronger each day until my heart will not beat for her anymore.
She is, was, my anchor. My fucking lifeline to the real me.
I watch her beautiful face in the moonlight, her pale skin never looking more striking at this moment. She backs away from me, taking my soul with her.
Agonizing pain seizes my chest as I let her.
I don’t reach for her.
I don’t stop her.
“Granger?” Rafe’s voice brings me back to the large, private room at Hôtel Ritz Paris. Five suits sit with Rafe and the band. My eyes go back to staring out the window and the wet streets. Rain, always rain.
I clear my voice as I get my head back in the game. I’m not the same man who let her ride out of my life. It’s been years, and still a day hasn’t gone by that I haven’t thought about her, wondered if I’d see her in a crowd.
So seeing her laughing with some man was a bit of a surprise. I lost my shit on him. The thought that he’s been inside her… Fuck it, no one’s perfect. Least of all me.
I turn to the conference table. Cash is on his phone, Nuke is nodding off, and the only one who looks interested is Ammo.
I lean forward and reach for a pack of cigarettes, not caring that I’m invading a producer’s space.
A loud snore comes from Nuke’s mouth. His head bobs up and he straightens, blinking as if he’s confused about what’s happening.
Life has been tough for Nuke. He’s my brother. I tried to be there for him. He’s been in and out of rehab, and if his nodding off is any indication, I’d guess he’s using again.
I light my cigarette. It’s fucking amazing that we’re still together. Cash looks at Nuke and rolls his eyes. If any of us has completely pulled away, it’s Cash, but that was after the bomb was dropped. Meaning, I got the paternity test back and Cash was the father of Chase, not me.
Yeah, my life was destroyed, and he never once spoke up, never once said, “Hey, I was fucking Renee too.” I lost Gia over that shit. But I moved on and tried not to hold a grudge. Cash shows up and he’s a beast on the bass. As for everything else? We don’t talk about it.
Professionally, we’re thriving. Success seems to favor us, even when our personal lives tank.
The Stuffed Muffins rise no matter what. I turn again and lean my hand against the glass window. Paris, Fashion Week—I came here because I’ve gotten back with my on again, off again model girlfriend.
I’m trying to be supportive and show up when she walks the runway. I guess you could say Paulette’s the closest I’ve come to having a relationship in all these years. I’m thirty-five, our last album Untouched went platinum and stayed number one on the charts for months.
“Is there anything you want, Granger? This is going to be a major motion picture, a gritty look at the band, your pasts, and your future in the rock and roll world,” Stanley announces. He’s the bigwig at Weddington Studios.
I know I shouldn’t do it. I need to leave her alone. She’s successful and seems happy. But my heart still beats for her. Or maybe it’s just my cock that beats for her. Whatever, I can’t seem to find peace. I’m obsessed with a green-eyed goddess.
She’s my muse… Goddammit.
“Yeah, I do want something. I pick the DP and the photographer, or I walk,” I state, causing the whole room to stop what they’re doing and stare at me.
Someone clears their throat, and I grin at the stunned executives and Rafe who looks like he’s ready to lose it. He’s not stupid. He knows.
The execs glance around at the band. Ammo leans back in his chair with his arms crossed behind his head.
“Who’d you have in mind, brother?” He smirks.
Stanley clears his throat and leans back in the leather chair. “The thing is, Granger, production has started. We have an award-winning DP, and he has his crew. As for the photographer, we thought we would hire a few to give the band that gritty look. You can’t be serious. We’re paying you a small fortune.” His eyes narrow and he reaches for a Fiji water.
I nod. “I’m dead serious. I have more money than anyone should. A movie about us does nothing for me. I can’t speak for my bandmates. They can do whatever they want, but I don’t allow the cameras near me unless you use who I want.” I put out my cigarette and move toward the door as Stanley stands.
“Who do you want?”
I smile and walk back over, pulling out a chair to drop into. “Gia Fontaine and Sebastian Knight.”
“You got to be shitting me?” Cash looks up from his phone and shakes his head.
Stanley leans back to look at me. “Unfortunately, Gia Fontaine has passed on our offer. We wanted her first. She said for the right price she’d consider selling some early pictures of the band, but to go on tour and be our visionary, she declined.”
“Well then, I’m not available.” I hold up my hands and look around the table, first at the suits who seem uncomfortable, and at Ammo who throws his head back and laughs.
“Fuck it.” He stands. “I’m with you, brother. He’s right. Gia Fontaine is the only one who truly knows this band, so make the magic happen.”
Stanley looks stunned and aggravated. “I… is this what you all want?” He looks at Rafe as if that’s gonna make me change my mind.
Cash stands. “Get Gia or I walk also.” He nods at me as he walks by.
I knock on the table. “There you have it. The Stuffed Muffins have spoken. Make it happen, Stanley.” All eyes turn to Nuke who still sits passed out.
I almost snort, but I’m not that dick anymore. I can’t point fingers. Nuke is dealing with things the way he does. I’m no better.
“Now if you’ll excuse me, I do need to go watch my girlfriend walk the runway in thirty minutes. I leave you in the capable hands of Rafe.” I stand.
Stanley looks down at the papers in front of him as his assistant types on his phone and shows it to Stanley. “This is the Sebastian Knight you’re talking about?” He holds the phone out, and there’s the motherfucker’s face on IMDb.
“Yep, that’s him. An up-and-comer. You’ll love him. Very production friendly,” I say over my shoulder. “Go after him first. You get Sebastian, you’ll get Gia.”
Rafe stands as I pass. “Gentlemen, excuse me. I need a moment with the Rock God.” He walks next to me as I exit the room.
“What are you doing? Gia? And Sebastian Knight? He’s threatening a lawsuit against you.”
I look down the elegant hallway and back at him. “I’m sure he’ll drop the suit. We’re offering him a chance to go from a nobody to an actual DP. What time is it?” I smirk. “And if you’re worried about it, make him sign something.”
“Fuck you, Granger. Why now? After all these years you really want to put yourself and her through this?” he sneers. “You see her one time”—he holds up a finger—“for a few minutes, and you’re bribing her with her boyfriend?”
A couple of girls are giggling and watching us about ten feet away. I smile at them and wave. “We love you,” they say as they film me, then bolt down the hall.
“That’s exactly what I’m doing. Make it happen.” I start to walk.
“Just tell me w
hy,” he calls after me.
“Because I’ve been dead inside, and spending that one moment with her”—I turn to look at him—“made me feel alive.”
Rafe shakes his head. “I don’t like this.”
I nod. “She’s my muse.”
“Shut up with that muse shit, Granger.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Fine, I’ll get it done. What about Axel?”
I laugh. “Axel loves us.” I start down the hall. “Make Gia an offer she can’t refuse.”
“And Paulette?” he yells.
“She’s not my muse,” I yell back into the large hallway, smiling as I hear him curse.
GIA
Present – Twenty-five years old
Paris, France
My phone is ringing again. With a sigh, I roll over and push my eye mask up to look at my phone.
“Jeff, I hate you.” I’m tempted to block him and his numerous missed calls, but he’s such a lunatic, he might just get on a plane. So I text, Sleeping, then toss my phone back on the nightstand. I pull my eye mask down and turn to my side. If I can get another hour, that would be amazing. I take a deep breath and let it out, trying to relax my mind, but all I see are bourbon eyes, full lips, and dark, wild hair.
“Goddammit.” I roll to my back. The room is silent, save for the gentle click of the heat turning on. I hate feeling like this, and by this, I mean remembering. Thank God I have my job to distract me. Fashion Week turned out way better than I expected.
I worked all day, came back to my room, ordered room service, and watched Jeopardy. Sebastian did the party scene, so that kept everyone happy and took away the stress of running into him.
I sigh. Clearly, I’m not going back to sleep. Sitting up, I toss the eye mask and glance at my surroundings, not really seeing them.
I need coffee and a cigarette. I lean over to dial room service and pick up my iPhone to translate that I’d like coffee, eggs, bacon, and a bagel with cream cheese.
I love this feature on my phone. They probably think I’m crazy, but whatever. I lean my head back and try to figure out what I’m gonna do. I’m supposed to return to LA for a quick job, but I might cancel it since New York is starting to look good. It has Julianna and no Jeff.
Great, I’m in another shit mood. This is becoming my new norm lately. Where’s that pack of cigarettes I bought the other day? I bite my bottom lip. I’d quit until the run-in with him.
Asshole.
I haven’t said his name once since I got on the back of my brother’s bike that rainy day. I basically considered him dead…until he became alive again.
I grab my hair and roughly put it into a messy bun as I remember…
Everything.
Not being able to function and locking myself in Axel’s room for days. Fucking pathetic. No man is worth that.
I try to block out that time of my life since all it does is piss me off. I wasted so much heartache on him. Didn’t eat, didn’t sleep. God, I think I dropped ten pounds, and I was thin to begin with. Poor Julianna had to come and get me. Otherwise, there’s no way I would have made it back to school that semester.
Then dealing with my mom flip-flopping between sympathy and her I-told-you-so crap. That’s what made me get my ass into Julianna’s BMW and go back to Berkeley with her. The thought of having to live with my mom in that neighborhood and looking across the street at his mom’s house was not an option.
But I survived. Standing, I stretch to get all the kinks out. Might as well pack since I’m heading back to the States in the morning. A small tap on the door alerts me that room service has arrived. That was fast, or I’ve been so caught up in the past I don’t even realize how much time passed.
“Coming,” I yell, which is stupid because most rooms are pretty soundproof. Thank God my coffee is here. I’m completely jet-lagged. I feel like I could drink a gallon, that’s how sluggish I am. I grab a robe and open the door.
“Good morning, gorgeous.” Sebastian winks at me, leaning against the doorframe, wearing a black beret.
“Jesus.” I roll my eyes at him. He’s ridiculous in all the right ways. I also know him—he’s either plotting or wants something. I step aside, letting the room service guy in. He sets the large silver tray on the table.
“Grumpy bear.” Sebastian grabs me and picks me up as I scream and laugh.
“I am. So don’t bug me. I need coffee.” I shake my head and slap his chest as I smile at the room service guy. As I sign the check, I try not to tumble out of Sebastian’s arms.
“Merci,” Sebastian says to the retreating back of the poor service guy as he dumps me on the bed.
“Oh my God, what’s going on?” I sit up, feeling Sebastian’s eyes travel the length of my legs. He turns to look at the room service tray. I know Sebastian still thinks he has feelings for me. I catch him staring at me sometimes and pretend I don’t see it. Like right now, I focus on how excited he is rather than the fact that he was staring at my legs.
“Do I need coffee first?” I reach for the silver pot.
“I need you to do this for me. This is me calling in my best friend card or old lover, partner, whatever-you-want-to-call-us favor.”
Christ, he’s still hoping. I sigh as I pour myself a cup. “You know I’ll always say yes to you.” Sitting on the end of the bed, I cross my legs, making sure the robe covers them.
I need to get better about this. We’re so close that sometimes I forget he’s a straight man. I mean, I don’t, but we used to fuck, so I’m comfortable around him. Lately he’s been hinting that if I need him, he’ll be happy to take the edge off for me. My sex life is so bad that it’s a bummer I can’t accept the offer. Sebastian is fantastic at making a girl come.
I can’t though. I need his friendship more than an orgasm.
“Wait, what’s going on?”
“They haven’t contacted you yet?” He sits down in the big arched chair. Stretching his long legs out, he crosses them at the ankles, then takes off his beret and runs his hands through his curls.
My eyes narrow on him. “Is this what Jeff is calling nonstop about?” I sip my coffee and open the top of the container for my eggs and bacon.
“You want some? I’ll never eat all this. And they only gave me one coffee cup, so get a glass from the minibar area.” I pick up a piece of bacon.
“Gia.”
“Yeah?” I say, almost choking on the bacon with the way his face is looking. “What? Clearly you have good news. Why are you dragging this out?”
“Because I thought you knew.” His eyes find mine. Again, the bacon kind of gets caught in the back of my throat as I swallow it down.
“I’ve been offered to be director of photography on a major motion picture,” he yells.
“What?” I shout, because are you kidding me? No one works harder than Sebastian.
“Oh my God, I’m so happy.” I drop the bacon and throw myself into his arms. “I knew it was only a matter of time until the world saw how amazingly talented you are.”
He smiles, and for a split second I see Rhys’s smile instead. Goddammit, why can’t Sebastian be the one my heart beats for?
“They offered it to both of us.” He laughs.
“What?” I pull back as dread, or adrenaline, makes my stomach flip. All of a sudden, I can’t breathe.
“As a team. I’m the DP and you’re the photographer.” He motions with his hands, and suddenly it all falls into place. I rub my temples.
“Please tell me this is not The Stuffed Muffins movie.” My chest tightens.
“So, they did ask you?”
“No. I mean, yes, they did, but I said no.” I start to pace. I do this when I get nervous or pressured.
“Sebastian, I can’t be a part of it. You take it though.” He simply stares at me. “Stop it,” I continue. “They don’t need me.” I point at him, but the fact is they do. No one has more photos of that band than me. I have pictures back from when I was seven, eight years old with my first Nikon.
“I already passed on this. What the fuck?” I look up at the ceiling and shake my head. “Who asked you?”
“The head of Weddington Studios. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for me. I need you to say yes.” Gone is my playful Sebastian. He’s full-on asking me to do this as a favor to him. How can I tell him no? He’s been there for me through everything, unknowingly keeping me going. But what he’s asking for is not the end of the world. Rhys Granger is my past. I need to think about my future, and this would be amazing on my résumé. In reality, I’ll hardly deal with him. It’ll be the director and me, along with Sebastian.
“Fine. If you need me, I’m there for you.” I smile at him. It’s either that or burst into tears that he’s throwing me into the lion’s den.
Because I’m lying. Rhys is the only person who’s dangerous to me.
“Gia. Gia.” He grabs me and hugs me again. “Do you realize what this means? I don’t want to jinx us, but with this kind of budget to work with, and our creativity and the popularity and allure of The Stuffed Muffins…” He pulls back and I look into his brown eyes—they’re full of excitement.
Sebastian is passionate about his craft. He loves making the magic happen so much that you can’t help but get caught up in his enthusiasm. Spinning me, he tugs me close to slow dance and murmurs in my ear, “Hunter Falcon’s directing it. We’re gonna get an Academy Award. I can feel it. My cock is getting hard.”
I pull back again, choosing to ignore the last comment, and focus on Hunter. “You’re kidding?” Hunter Falcon is fucking huge.
He smirks. His split lip from Rhys is only now starting to heal. “Apparently, he’s a huge fan of The Stuffed Muffins. He was the one who approached them about a behind-the-scenes movie. Just get in there with them, see the real band. I already talked to him on the phone. He’s beyond excited to be working with us.”
I raise an eyebrow at him. Clearly, he knew he would wear me down and I’d agree. It kind of sucks that I hate him because Hunter Falcon is a big deal. The prospect of working with him is exciting.
Rise: A Second Chance Rockstar Romance (Rock God Book 1) Page 19
