My Night with a Rockstar

by Mankin, Michelle

  “Asshole,” I muttered under my breath, but I grabbed two Cuervo bottles by the necks. I was a dutiful employee and a good bartender. I’d been bartending steadily for a year, waitressing before that, long enough in both service industry jobs to know how to deal with entitled shits like this guy. I pasted on a neutral expression and followed him, but I squeezed the necks of the tequila, imagining his neck instead.

  A few of the Dirt Dogs were hanging out in the hall.

  “Hey, Lotus.” Ramon Martinez, the handsome Latino guitarist, lifted a finger and gave me a slow smile. That grin had dropped many a pair of panties in the day—still would, truth be told. But nowadays he was only interested in one woman, his surfer girl.

  “Everything okay?” Lincoln asked, raking his blond hair out of his narrowed sea-blue eyes. The Dirt Dogs’ lead singer looked enough like Ash to be his biological brother rather than just his adopted cousin. He seemed to disapprove of my companion.

  Good to know I’m not the only one.

  “Yeah, I’m all right.” I lifted the bottles. “Just taking some booze that’s been requested to the Skulls’s dressing room.”

  “Not sure Ash would want you making a delivery like that alone.” Linc’s disapproving gaze narrowed more.

  “I’ll go with her.” Diesel Le, the ex pro surfer turned Dirt Dogs’ bassist, pushed away from the opposite wall where he’d been leaning and rapid texting. Likely sending a message to Hollie, his celebrity fiancée. Fanny’s sister was on location doing a film in Brazil.

  “Thanks, Diesel.” I lifted my chin in greeting.

  He stepped beside me. “No problem.”

  I followed the Black Skulls’ drummer, who led the way. He turned the corner just before the end of the hall, and I did too. He kept going, but unlike him, I stopped. Journey stood directly in front of me, talking to Ash. Both men turned their heads to look at me.

  My gaze and my suddenly mushy brain swept all but the one aside.

  Twice in one evening, looking at Journey made me dizzy and brought all my forward momentum to a complete halt. I took all of him in like I had from my vantage point in the pit. And even a second time, it took me a while.

  There was a lot of Journey to take in.

  He wore the same clothing he’d had on earlier—black muscle tee, silver wallet chain in a long loop over his muscular denim-clad thigh, and scuffed black boots. But somehow he seemed bigger now, more imposing than before.

  When his eyes locked on mine, my mouth went completely dry.

  “Hey, Ash,” Diesel said to his bandmate, placing his hand on my shoulder.

  The contact startled me. Not because his touch was unpleasant. I knew Diesel from the work I did, taking care of the plants at the studio and from bartending at the Deck Bar, which was the band’s favorite hangout.

  “Lotus got a request to deliver booze to the Skulls. That okay with you?”

  “Hell no,” Ash said, frowning at me. “Hold up, okay?”

  “Sure.” I nodded, and he returned his attention to Journey.

  “Think over what I said.” The creases at the outer edges of Ash’s eyes deepened. “You know it’s business, but I’m also speaking truth I believe in my heart.” He thumped his chest. He was in an OB tank and board shorts post-performance, his hair slicked back from a quick shower. Like Journey, his arms were pure muscle.

  “Respect that.” Journey lifted his chin. A light brown glossy curl that had been hanging over his right eye slid back over his ear. He had two piercings in the lobe on that side, a silver hoop and a plain stud.

  “You have my number.” Ash clapped Journey on the back. “I’ll be waiting to hear back from you.”

  I tilted my head. It seemed like they knew each other well.

  “Sounds good.” Journey pounded Ash’s back companionably.

  My stomach pitched as his speaking voice resonated deep within me. A rich baritone like his singing voice, it made my mind spiral round and round with hot, sensual thoughts I didn’t usually indulge in.

  “What exactly did the Skulls request?” Ash turned toward me, and so did Journey.

  Gosh, he’s pretty.

  “So, they, um . . .” I trailed off, losing higher brain and speech function with him looking at me.

  “You look unsteady,” Journey said low, stretching out his arm. Bracelets, a leather braided one and a chunky silver link one, dangled from his wrist. “Let me take those heavy bottles off your hands.”

  “What?” Dazed, I just stared. Every inch of the skin on his arm, from bulging bicep to thick wrist, was covered in colorful tattoos. Even his knuckles were tattooed.

  His sculpted lips slowly curved. “I’ll deliver that alcohol to the band for you.”

  I swallowed to moisten my throat. It’s hot in here. Isn’t it hot in here?

  Journey reached for and removed the bottles from my hands. His touch shot electrical current straight up my arm.

  “Uh, thanks,” I managed to say, rocking where I stood, even though I wore my sensible work shoes.

  “You’re welcome, darlin’.” His voice rumbled in amusement, and his eyes twinkled. They were a rich earthy brown with a sprinkle of vibrant green.

  “You ready to close down the VIP room?” Ash asked, and my gaze reluctantly shifted to him.

  “Yes, of course,” I said with a nod.

  “Good. I’m beat, and I’m sure you are too.” He threw his arm around me, and Diesel moved to my other side.

  Flanked by the Dirt Dogs, I retraced my previous steps, but somehow everything was different from before. Plus, I knew Journey was watching me. I could feel the intensity of his gaze, boring holes into the skin between my shoulder blades.

  As we turned the corner, the intensity dissipated, and I managed a couple of easier breaths. At the event room, Ash pushed the door open, holding it for me. I stepped through.

  “Surprise!”

  “Happy birthday!”

  I jumped as roadies and a couple of studio musicians I knew stepped forward. Linc and Ramon were in front of everyone, carrying a huge cake between them, the candles lit.

  I frowned at Ash. “You shouldn’t have done this.”

  “Wanted to. We appreciate you.” He grinned as he tucked an envelope into a pocket of my bartending apron. “Birthday bonus. There’s a little something extra in there from all the Dogs.”

  “Thank you.” My eyes brimmed with tears. I could really use that money. Rent was coming due, and it was always a stretch to come up with that big amount of cash each month in addition to everything else.

  “You’re welcome,” Ash said.

  “Make a wish,” Diesel said from beside me.

  “No Deck Bar mermaid here.” Ash’s blue eyes twinkled brightly. “But birthday mojo and candles oughta do the trick for any wish to come true.”

  I closed my eyes and made the same impossible wish I’d made for the last nine birthdays.

  I had other wishes, sure. Big ones. But I believed if Storm ever returned, my life would get better, and my other wishes would somehow come true too.

  Lotus

  I ate cake with Ash and everyone. Afterward, I worked with the event coordinator to total up the alcohol receipt, then changed clothes in the employee locker room.

  As I did every year on my birthday, I tried and failed not to miss my father. He did so many little things on my birthday—and every day—to make me feel loved, things that were so special to me.

  Let it hurt. Then let it go. Only keep the good things.

  My childhood friend was right. But those good things were few and far between without my dad.

  I had no one to share the hurt and letting-go process with anymore. Sophia was a good friend, a great one, but she wasn’t that type of friend. Maybe there weren’t many people like Storm. Maybe my memories had made a fantasy of our friendship.

  And though my brother shared my pain, he had a unique loss of his own to bear. I did my best to shield him from my pain and the responsibilities that came along
with it. Those were mine to carry alone as a single guardian to my brother.

  Setting those thoughts aside, I undid my braid, put on my regular clothes, and stuffed the white shirt and black pants that made up my bartending uniform into an overflowing laundry cart. The other catering waitstaff had already departed.

  My cell rang. I grabbed it and glanced at the display. sophia calling.

  “Hey,” I said, my throat tight as I swiped the wetness from my cheeks and forced cheerfulness into my tone.

  “What’s up?”

  “That’s my question for you,” I said, deflecting. My sadness wasn’t changeable.

  “I’m with Reese, the lead singer of the Black Skulls.”

  “I know that. You texted me while I was working. But where are you now, and what are you doing?”

  “I’m still with the band. The drummer likes you.”

  I made a face. “That’s nice.” Not.

  “His name is Tristan.”

  “Okay.” I wasn’t going to let her set me up with a guy I didn’t care for. “So, can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Am I on speaker?”

  “No,” she said.

  “Good.” I exhaled. “Tristan’s an arrogant asshole.”

  “He’s a rock star, honey,” she said drolly. “They all are.”

  “Ash isn’t.”

  “You didn’t know him before.”

  “Before what?” I asked, my brows pulling together.

  “Pre-Fanny.”

  “Yeah, okay, I’ll give you that.” I’d heard the talk about Ash and his many hookups before Fanny. “But I highly doubt he ever snapped his fingers at her.”

  “Tristan did that to you?”

  “Oh yeah,” I said, then heard shuffling and murmuring. She’d covered up her phone.

  “Tristan says he’s sorry.”

  I doubted it. I walked out of the locker room wearing shorts overalls and flips-flops, my oversized slouch bag slung over my shoulder. “I’m coming to you. We’re going out for my birthday, right?”

  “Technically, it’s not your birthday anymore.”

  I checked the time and sighed. She was right. It was past midnight. “You backing out of girl time in favor of dick?”

  “Change of plans. We’re going to the beach.”

  I perked up. I liked the beach. “With Tristan and Reese?”

  “With the band. Yes.”

  “I dunno.” I thought of Journey and my stomach flipped.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked.

  “Yeah.” I was starving. I hadn’t had anything to eat since lunch, over twelve hours ago.

  “Thirsty?”

  “I could drink.”

  “Then head to the side door that leads to the parking lot.”

  “Where is it?” I stepped out into the hallway. It was completely deserted.

  “Just past the dressing rooms.”

  “Okay.”

  I walked faster, nervous about being inside the building all alone. At the end of the hall, I pushed the metal bar on the door. Outside was an old black sedan with a trailer attached to it. Sophia pushed away from the passenger door and moved toward me.

  “Hey, you,” she said with a smile.

  I breathed easier until she turned and opened the rear passenger door for me, revealing Tristan inside. He grinned up at me from the back seat.

  “Um . . . I’m not sure about this.” I really didn’t want to get in the car with the finger-snapping drummer, and frowned at my bestie. In my peripheral vision, I noted another vehicle pulling up behind the trailer, but I kept my attention on her.

  “It’ll be fun,” Sophia said. “Better than a bar crawl. There’ll be music. And Journey got food and beer.” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder.

  I followed the direction of her gesture and gulped. The mind-scrambling guitarist was driving the vehicle that had pulled up behind the trailer. It was like an SUV, but it had no roof, just two thick roller bars. Interestingly, a surfboard hung over the tailgate.

  “Hey,” he said, lifting his bearded chin to acknowledge me.

  “Hey.” I lifted my chin in return, trying to function normally despite how cute he looked with his colorful arms draped over the steering wheel.

  “It’s not like we’re gonna have an orgy, Lotus,” Sophia said, still attempting to convince me.

  I looked back to her, my cheeks warm from her comment, but more because of Journey.

  “It’s casual. We’re just gonna hang. And you know, the guys can’t be all bad. Ash likes them, or he wouldn’t have given them a prime slot in the lineup.” She stepped closer, lowering her voice. “No expectations. If you have fun, we’ll stay. If not, we’ll take off and go back to the hotel, do something different. Friends stick together. Okay?”

  “Sure,” I said, recognizing that the sticking together went both ways. She wanted to go, and I didn’t want to disappoint her.

  But my nerves were a mess. It wasn’t the guys in general that made me nervous. It was just one.

  “You wanna ride with me?” Journey asked, gesturing to the empty passenger seat beside him.

  My throat went dry. Tristan only irritated me, but Journey completely unnerved me. No guy had ever elicited the reaction he had. Not even Saber.

  Didn’t I owe it to myself to explore that? After all, wasn’t tonight supposed to be about trying new things and forgetting the boyfriend who’d been stringing me along?

  My mind made up, I moved toward Journey. “Sure, I’ll ride with you.”

  It was time to let loose.

  Lotus

  “Let me get that door for you.”

  Journey jogged around the black hood. His muscular body was like a Greek statue, only clothed and in motion. Looking at him seemed to make time slow while it also made my heart race. He was very much alive with warmth I could feel, and an enticing scent that eluded me in the outside air. His gaze swept over me as he opened the passenger door for me.

  “Thanks,” I murmured, unable to ignore the warm shiver his scan induced. I brushed against him climbing in. The shiver became a shake that made my legs tremble.

  “You’re welcome.” He closed the door and retraced his steps around the hood while I watched. His confident, ambling stride was a watch-worthy event.

  “What kind of vehicle is this?” I asked as he climbed in.

  “An International Harvester Scout.” He clicked his seat belt without glancing at me.

  “I’ve never heard of it.”

  “It’s old.” He cranked the key. “But it has seat belts. Put yours on.”

  “Oh, right. Sorry.” I reached back to find it and clicked it on, experiencing another pleasurable shiver at the knowledge he was looking out for me. I ran my gaze over the dash, noting the gleam of the metal. The leather underneath me was plush. “It looks new. It’s nice. And it’s comfortable.”

  “I like making old things work. Some of the best things I know are in the past.”

  Journey gave me a long look, something processing behind his eyes. I didn’t know what, but it seemed significant.

  “I guess I prefer new,” I said. There were a lot of losses in my past.

  He turned his head, his features sharper than they’d been a moment before. Did I say something wrong?

  There was something here between us. At least, on my side. I certainly didn’t want to upset him.

  I licked my lips, trying again. “Did you buy it like it is now or restore it?”

  “I found it half-buried in a lady’s backyard, bought it for almost nothing, and restored it. No way could I afford one that had already been done. Especially nowadays.”

  His response gave me a lot to be curious about. What lady? How long had it taken him to fix it up? Where had the process taken place?

  But I just asked, “Why especially now?”

  “A model like this one is featured on a popular television series.”

  “Oh. I don’t watch much TV.”

&n
bsp; “Me either.” Journey shifted to get the vehicle in motion and followed the sedan. “If not television,” he turned on his blinker, “what do you do in your spare time?”

  I hugged my bag to my chest. “I don’t have much spare time.”

  “Why not?” he asked, steering the Harvester onto the freeway.

  “I work a lot. I’m kinda on my own.” Kinda meaning completely when it comes to being the responsible adult.

  As we picked up speed, my hair started blowing around all over the place. I grabbed a handful of it and secured it into a ponytail with an elastic band I wore around my wrist.

  “You’re not in college?” he asked, sounding surprised.

  “No.” I shook my head. “I never went. Too expensive.”

  He gave me another sharp glance. “Couldn’t your da—parents help you with expenses?”

  “No.” I swallowed hard, my eyes immediately burning. “My parents are both gone.”

  “Where are they?” His gaze narrowed, and I could feel the intensity within it, boring into me from the side this time, rather than from behind.

  “I’d rather not talk about it.” Staring straight ahead, my vision blurred. The sheen over it came from an inescapable sadness. The hardest events in my life to accept were the unchangeable ones.

  “All right,” he said after a lengthy pause. “So, you’re a working girl, bartending for Ashland Keys?”

  “I bartend for him for special events. But I do other stuff for him too. For Outside, I mean.”

  “Such as?”

  “Plants. I take care of the ones at the studio, and bring in and arrange temporary ones for the label’s launch events. I have a contract to care for the plants at his penthouse too.”

  “You like plants?”

  “Yes, I do. That’s what I meant about new. I like planting seeds, watching them grow into something beautiful that wouldn’t have existed without my care.”

  Giving them the right amount of sunlight, water, and nutrients yielded a certain predictable result. I liked feeling like I made a difference, and that I had control over something in my life.

  “I like plants too,” he said. “Reminds me of . . . well, you’re right about the taking care of something. Easier, more predictable results with plants than people, for sure.”