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The Baby and the Rock Star (Rock Star Kisses Book 2)

Page 2

by Veronica Blade


  Two months ago, right after the band had dumped him, Sebastian called my dad in a rage. My dad was out of town and couldn’t do anything to console him. He was also afraid Sebastian might do something stupid and make everything worse, so he asked me to drop by and check on him. When I arrived, Sebastian stumbled away, leaving the door wide open.

  “Hey, beautiful,” he slurred. As soon as he located his keys, he headed toward the door, tripping over a glass bowl. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be back before you know it.”

  I stepped inside to see his furniture had been broken, shoebox-size holes decorated the walls and litter covered the floor. As much as I wished to be anywhere else at that moment, I couldn’t walk away and let him drive his car. I had to distract him. “Want to hook me up with a drink before you rush out?”

  “Sure, babe.” He grinned, then staggered to a shelf and dropped his keys. As soon as he disappeared into the kitchen, I snagged the keys and closed the front door. The last thing I wanted to do was spend my evening with a drunk guy. But my dad had always liked Sebastian and I didn’t want my dad to worry. I’d stay and make sure Sebastian didn’t sober up and then get mad enough to go after Liam. Or do something even more insane.

  Drink in hand, he offered me a seat. Since I hadn’t been properly socialized growing up, I didn’t know what to say to Sebastian or what to talk about. So I downed the beer and asked him questions about what inspired him to write lyrics and how he laid down the music. Surprisingly, his answers fascinated me, which led to more questions—and several more drinks.

  Though he was wasted and I knew I wasn’t talking to the real Sebastian, I got lost in conversation and then soon, I was almost as wasted as him. His hair had looked like it hadn’t been cut in weeks and by the length of his beard, he hadn’t shaved in even longer. Yet somehow, I’d let his gorgeous face and sexy smile momentarily blind me to the fact that he was a total loser. And I had ended up in bed with him.

  Much to my horror the next morning, he lay deliciously naked, sprawled across his bed with his arm slung across my bare stomach. I carefully slipped out of his grasp, then plucked my panties from the overhead fan and retrieved my bra from the window sill. After a quick search through the trashed living room, I moved on to the kitchen where I spotted my jeans on the floor. Backtracking, I spied my shirt dangling on the staircase rail and quickly got dressed. I tiptoed out of his house and dashed down the long driveway. Once in my car, I sped away, nearly peeling out down the street.

  I’d boozed-and-used with some guy who probably hadn’t even graduated high school. I had never expected him to call me, nor had I wanted him to. And once I’d left his house, I had no intention of contacting him. I had plans for myself, a real future with stability that didn’t include a troubled rock star with an uphill battle to have any kind of real future. But even if a guy doesn’t send a girl flowers after a one-nighter, he could at least pretend like he had a good time, rather than behaving as though she were a stranger. We’d been naked together, for crying out loud. Yet he’d brushed me off this evening, as if that night two months ago had meant less than nothing to him.

  I couldn’t think of anything in my life I regretted more than having that first drink with Sebastian.

  Though his behavior still irked me, hooking up with some tool wouldn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. I would still dazzle the public with my media expertise and gather enough clients over the next three years to support myself. I’d meet a successful businessman—who wasn’t an actor or musician—get married about two years later, and have my first child in time to have exactly three children total before I turned thirty.

  I couldn’t allow Sebastian’s attitude to faze me. He wasn’t worth the aggravation and his opinion didn’t matter.

  I wiped my wet cheeks and pulled into the driveway of my dad’s house. Inside, I hung my keys on the hall tree by the door. I intended to rest just a moment before searching for my dad and saying hi, then slipping out the back door to the guest house. But once I dropped onto my dad’s sofa, my limbs melted into the leather and I let my head fall back against the couch. I didn’t want to move. Ever.

  Why was I so exhausted? I slid sideways, curled my knees up and rested my cheek on the armrest.

  I woke nine hours later with blinding light blazing through the open curtains and searing my brain. I flung off the throw blanket my dad had covered me with during the night and sprinted to the bathroom. Making it to the toilet just in time, my knees dropped to the Italian tile and I heaved. And then I endured yet another spell of gagging and retching before my stomach had finally finished violating my self-esteem.

  I wondered if I had eaten something bad the day before. Or maybe the stress and aggravation of being around Sebastian had brought back my old stomach issues. I’d probably be back to normal soon enough.

  I stumbled on wobbly legs out the back door to the guest house to take a shower.

  Dressed and ready to go, I shuffled back to the main house and stopped in my dad’s office doorway. “Hey, Dad. On my way to meet up with Sebastian.”

  “Hi, sweetheart.” He peered at me over his reading glasses. “Stomach acting up again?”

  He’d heard me vomiting earlier, but he also knew I’d always had a nervous stomach and been prone to throwing up under extreme stress. But it had never been this bad. Three days in a row, I’d kept very little down. “I’ll be fine. It’s getting a bit better,” I lied.

  “You sure?” He shoved a stack of papers aside and rose from his desk.“You look a little pale. I can do all the rounds with Sebastian today, if you like.”

  “I need to do my job and you have plenty of your own work. Besides, you’re a terrible photographer,” I teased, trying to lighten the mood. “I need pictures with a high enough quality to leave no doubt it’s Sebastian.”

  My dad nodded, studying me a beat, then he hesitantly lowered back into his seat. “All right. But if you don’t get some color soon, I’d like you to consider seeing a doctor.”

  “Okay. Gotta go.” I gave him a quick wave and dragged myself out of the house. Sometimes saying goodbye to my father was still awkward. My mom had disappeared with me when I was just a baby and I hadn’t met him until she’d passed away when I was twelve. Though I thought the world of him and was grateful to still have one parent, after living with him ten years, I still couldn’t quite warm up to him all the way. Maybe if he was less of a workaholic, we would’ve had more time to sort out the weirdness. Maybe if I was less obsessed with making something of myself, he would’ve had the opportunity to be a real father.

  I slipped behind the wheel of my car, my mind coming up with all kinds of things I’d rather do than spend time with Sebastian. Disgust swirled in my stomach at the reminder that my entire day would be wasted on him. I almost wanted to hurl again, so I sucked in deep breaths and exhaled until the queasiness subsided.

  After spending an hour on congested roads to travel ten miles, I steered my car to his gate, punched in the code he’d given me and, moments later, knocked on the front door. He opened it and raked his eyes over me, his mouth curved up as he spotted my jeans and boots.“I like that look on you.”

  Oh, now he was going to be nice and notice me? Nope, too late for that. I sighed and rolled my eyes.

  He leaned against the doorframe, scowling. “What’s your problem?”

  “My problem?” My fingertips flew defensively to my chest. “I’m not the one with the problem.”

  Sebastian gave me a slow nod. “I disagree.”

  Said the guy who still hadn’t invited me inside, despite the cold winds whipping my hair around my face. My chin lifted and I straightened my spine. “We can discuss this all morning while I freeze my ass off and we’d still get nowhere. Or you could get into my car so we make it to your nine o’clock meeting.” I whirled and headed back down the driveway to my Lexus.

  Bitch mode had been cranked up to the high setting. And I was pretty sure he was completely baffled. Just because he
was thoroughly unaware of which totally inconsiderate act pissed me off didn’t absolve him of the wrongdoing. And if he didn’t want to feel a woman’s wrath after sleeping with her, he should have the sense to follow after-sex protocol, starting with not behaving as if it never happened. Most guys at least put in effort to make the woman feel like their time together had meant something, especially if they moved in the same circles.

  As soon as my butt touched the driver’s seat and I was off my feet, my body turned to mush. Had I just not gotten enough sleep last night?

  Sebastian jumped into the seat next to me—though I would have much rather he sit in the back like other dogs—and I took a deep breath, muscling through the lethargy. I had to be on my game. Sebastian needed his rep back and I needed my career on track for my eight-year plan. My success depended heavily on how I handled Sebastian and reshaped his image.

  We drove to his meeting in dead silence. Not wanting anyone to think Sebastian and I were together, I waited in the car while he walked up to the plain stucco building where his AA meeting was held. I had originally planned to take him to a more upscale meeting in Beverly Hills, but decided the seedier side of Hollywood suited him better. Plus, this hole in the wall more than likely had regular people, the kind who wouldn’t respect his privacy. I didn’t want them to hold back like a fellow celebrity might. I wanted them to spill their pictures and posts all over social media.

  Three respectable minutes later, I slipped inside the building and followed the signs to a spacious room with a stage. Judging by the medieval costume strewn over a chair and the three stools on stage, I guessed the room was used for acting classes or plays. I claimed a seat in the back. People had already recognized him—two guys flanked him, talking animatedly while a girl, probably not much older than me, was trying to get his attention by casually pacing back and forth in front of him.

  I scanned the room again, spotting a skinny dude in the corner aiming his phone at Sebastian. Good, that would get on the internet quickly. As soon as I could take pictures without anyone noticing, I whipped out my own cell and, careful not to get caught, snapped a few of my own shots. I made sure only Sebastian entered the frame, since the meeting was supposed to be anonymous. Not that the other people aiming cameras at him cared about anyone’s privacy.

  Someone walked up to the podium and I slid my phone back into my purse, then sneaked out the back and into my car.

  **

  Tap! Tap! Tap!

  My heavy lids scraped over my eyes and I squinted as the sun beat down on the windshield of my car. Using my long sleeve, I rubbed my chin to remove the drool.

  Tap! Tap! Tap!

  I snapped to my left and rolled the window down a crack.

  “Are you going to let me in or not?” Sebastian scowled.

  Where was I? A quick scan reminded me we were outside the AA meeting. I shook off the brain fog and unlocked the doors. As Sebastian climbed into the passenger side, I stalled to readjust my seat and rummage through my purse. Driving was not something I should do just yet, not until I woke up a bit more.

  “Are you okay? Do you want me to drive?” Sebastian asked.

  Feeling more alert by the second, I fired up the engine. “Nah, I got this.”

  “Where to now?” Sebastian rolled his window down and the nausea that had been percolating in my stomach eased up.

  “Lunch, which we’ll be doing together a lot. You need to be seen in public as much as possible. Hope you brought money.” I pulled onto the street and headed toward the trendiest restaurant in Hollywood that boasted the most celebrity sightings. That’s where the paparazzi would be searching for people like Sebastian. “We don’t necessarily want to give anyone a reason to believe we’re a couple. Be sure to keep your distance and try not to look at me too adoringly.”

  “I can’t make any promises. You make yourself absolutely irresistible,” he said dryly, following it up with a snort.

  I allowed myself a small, amused smile and glanced away from him to check the left lane for my turn. By the time I faced ahead again, I’d regained my stony expression. “If anyone asks, you can say I’m your AA sponsor.”

  “Works for me.”

  Thankfully, the restaurant had valet parking, so my hot, swollen feet didn’t have far to carry me. My feet were always the first part of me to feel the chill. Why weren’t they cold like the rest of my body?

  The hostess seated us at a corner booth with one long seat and I grumbled to myself. I had hoped we’d be situated in the middle of the restaurant where everyone could see us. But it was nearly lunchtime and most tables were already taken.

  The smell of beef wafted up my nose and saliva pooled in my mouth, but not in the good way. Normally, I liked beef, but not today. My entire body rebelled against the smell of the restaurant.

  “Excuse me.” I bolted from the booth and made tracks for the restroom. I skidded into the stall and moved my mass of hair out of the way just in time before I tossed up my breakfast. Whimpering, I rinsed my mouth from the faucet, then composed myself a moment before returning to the table.

  “Are you okay?” Sebastian had the decency to look concerned, but since it was his fault my stress level had risen to epic heights, it was the least he could do. “You’re whiter than usual.”

  “The meat smell in here is pretty strong.” I snagged a menu and began looking for anything that might be remotely appetizing. “It’s turning my stomach.”

  “I can see that.” He scooted sideways in the booth until he was close enough to lay a hand across my forehead. “You don’t feel hot, but I’m thinking maybe I should take you home anyway.”

  Home… I longed to crawl into bed and I didn’t care that it was only lunchtime. I could sleep for a week. But then I’d lose a whole day where Sebastian could be rebuilding his image. Reshaping his future by massaging the media, thereby changing public opinion, was what I did best and what I had to do in order to accomplish my goals. Sebastian and this milestone would be one of many goals achieved toward the plan I’d carefully laid while I was still in high school.

  A little stomach issue wasn’t going to throw me off. Nothing would. I refused to ever let myself get anywhere near the level of poverty I’d grown up with. When my mom had left my dad, she’d disappeared with me and never looked back. But without him around to help out, we were too destitute to afford proper medical care. I vowed not to end up like her, dying in a hospital room because she’d been too busy working two jobs to take the time to get a checkup. If she had caught it in time, maybe they could have stopped the cancer before it was too late and she wouldn’t have been ravaged by it. I refused to let that be my future. The only way I’d accomplish my goals was not to allow myself to get distracted. That started with men.

  It wasn’t just my ambition and determination that had me cringing over abandoning my job; I didn’t want to let anyone down. I didn’t want to disappoint my father. His livelihood depended on Full Throttle’s success. “I really am fine. Just missed breakfast.”

  He shot me a skeptical look. “If you say so.”

  “I’ve always had a nervous stomach and it acts up when I’m stressed.” I flashed him an irritated look. He shook his head and proceeded to ignore me until the waiter came by to take our order.

  With great effort, I managed to choke down some pasta and garlic bread. Years of nausea had taught me to stick with breads and grains to settle the stomach. It helped, but this degree of discomfort baffled me. My stomach issues had never been this bad. I’d thrown up twice between yesterday and today, and I still felt like crap. Obviously this wasn’t a twenty-four hour bug. I probably had some kind of virus.

  My dad’s words nagged at me. But if it didn’t improve soon, no one would have to drag me to the doctor. I hated feeling poorly, and vomiting was one of the worst things to experience. Truly disgusting. And it sucked the energy right out of me.

  My fork slipped from my fingers and clattered to the plate. “I could be contagious. I really hope
you don’t catch this. I’m not even sure I should be out in public.” I slumped. “This is going to set us back.”

  “It doesn’t have to. I can go home and get on Twitter for a while. Maybe work on some lyrics while I’m live on Facebook. That could keep me busy for hours and everyone will be able to see I’m not drinking. You can go home and rest guilt free.”

  Maybe Sebastian wasn’t as inconsiderate as I’d thought. I practically moaned in relief. “Gladly.”

  He flagged down our waiter for the check and several minutes later, we were standing at the driver’s side of my Lexus. He held out his palm. “Key?”

  I rarely let anyone use my car. But the idea of driving seemed daunting and if I were to be honest with myself, my reflexes weren’t exactly at their best. I let Sebastian take the wheel, grateful I could sink into the passenger seat and close my eyes.

  Seconds later, the car stopped and I wondered if Sebastian had encountered a problem. Then I focused on my house only yards away. Geez, had we teleported or something?

  “Did you have a nice nap?” Sebastian asked, killing the engine and handing me the keys.

  Considering I hadn’t even realized I’d been sleeping, yes. But he didn’t need to know how comatose I’d been. “Shouldn’t I drop you off at home?”

  “No need. Theo lives a few blocks from here and walking will get me moving since I missed my workout this morning. I’ll drop in on Theo, maybe snag one of his cars. Or I can take a Lyft or Uber.” He exited and was already around to my side by the time I grabbed my purse. He opened the passenger door and peered down at me. “Sure you’re okay?”

  I nodded, trying not to visualize him lifting weights at Theo’s. He’d bulked up over the last couple months and I couldn’t help but wonder if his muscles would feel differently against me.

  Flinching, I pushed those thoughts away. My attraction to him was purely physical and I wanted so much more from a relationship. I wanted an intelligent man who wasn’t obsessed with his looks. Someone not in the spotlight with girls vying for his attention. I’d spent the last decade around musicians, seen how most of them operated. I didn’t want that kind of life.

 

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