Rock Star Romance Ultimate: Volume 1

by Olivia Cunning, Jayne Frost, RB Hilliard, Crystal Kaswell, Michelle Mankin, Emily Snow, Athena Wright

  “I can’t let him support me! Be a g-girl that hangs on his arm like a d-decoration! That life is n-no better than the one I turned down with B-Brad. D-don’t you see that?”

  She blinked at me. “So you’re just going to let your mom win?”

  I shook my head, stalking to my desk to pack up my art supplies. “No. It’s only t-temporary. I’ve g-got a lead on a job in New Mexico.”

  “And what about Cameron?”

  I spun around, tears clogging my throat. “What about him? I’ve only known him a w-week. This is my l-life we’re talking about.”

  Cocking her head, she looked me over from tip to toe. “You’re scared,” she said quietly. “You think he’s going to abandon you like Brad did. That he’ll get tired of you.”

  Her words hit the target, and I rocked unsteadily on my feet. Sinking into the chair when my knees threatened to give out, I buried my face in my hands. “Why should he be d-different than anyone else?”

  Even as I said it, I hoped it wasn’t true. That for a moment, maybe Camron had felt about me the way I felt about him.

  Tess laid something on the desk as she glided out of the room. “He left this for you.”

  Sniffling, I picked up the little plastic bag. A note. As much as I wanted to read it, to drown in his harsh words and the recrimination I deserved, I couldn’t bear it. I wanted my memories of Cameron to be happy ones.

  Coward.

  I wandered to the bed and, easing onto the mattress, I picked up the hand carved wooden box from my nightstand. Tracing the lily on the lid with my fingertip, I smiled. My father had given me the box when I was a child. One of the few gifts he’d ever picked out himself.

  Fur Elise floated to my ears when I cracked open the lid. Sinking against my pillows, I closed my eyes. And when the last note died, I tucked the note inside the box, along with the little piece of my heart that would always belong to Cameron Noble.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  * * *

  Cameron

  “We love you, Dallas! Goodnight!” Logan shouted into the mic.

  Pulling the strap off my neck, I waived to the crowd as I headed for the curtain. An army of roadies flew past me in their quest to tear down our equipment so the next band could take the stage.

  The air was electric, the crowd roaring their approval long after we entered the tunnel that led to our dressing room. Logan turned to me, taking my head between his hand. “You were on fire, bro!”

  “Fuck yeah, I was!”

  Adrenaline flowed through me, pushing thoughts of Lily so far down I almost felt whole. And for a moment, I believed I could forget about the girl with the golden hair, and the soft blue eyes. Because she didn’t know me at all.

  This was me. The real me.

  “Lookie-lookie.” Logan whistled, raising a brow when we rounded the corner.

  I cemented on a smile for the twenty or so girls lining the hallway in front of our dressing room. Blondes, brunettes, and redheads. A smorgasbord of perfect tits and firm asses in tight micro minis just begging for my attention.

  “You want Betty or Veronica?” he called as he waded into the adoring crowd.

  Sliding between a blond and a brunette, my stomach pitched when Lily’s image flashed in my head. But she wasn’t here. And they were. They wanted me, and she didn’t.

  No, they want Cameron Knight

  And that was a good thing, since he was all that was left.

  Cementing on a smile, I glanced between the two girls. “Who says I can’t have both.”

  ***

  “Wake up,” Logan said, giving me a firm shake. “It’s almost time to go.”

  Rolling onto my side, I cracked open one heavy lid. Pain. It was everywhere. In my head. My stomach. Even my hair hurt. “I can’t. I’m dying.”

  Or I was dead. Maybe I was dead. Because this had to be hell.

  Logan chuckled. “You’re not dying, you fucking pussy...”

  I lifted my head, but it was too much, so I buried my face in the pillow. The very cool, soft pillow. It was the best fucking pillow I’d ever felt. “What the hell happened?” I mumbled.

  Logan dropped onto the couch, planting his feet on the coffee table. “About a fifth of Jack.”

  Bits and pieces of the night filtered through my foggy brain. The show. Betty and Veronica. Their hands on my ass as we climbed into the elevator at the Omni hotel.

  I flipped onto my back, and when I didn’t puke, I called it a win. “Where is everyone?”

  “Sean and Christian are downstairs.”

  “What about…the girls?”

  The girl. My girl. Lily. If I was going to have a bout of amnesia, why couldn’t it be her that was erased from my memory? I rubbed my bare chest, the ache returning the moment I thought of her.

  “What girls?” Logan snorted. “The ones you chased off with your whining about Lily? Her hair, her eyes, her feet…really, bro? Her feet?”

  “She has cute toes,” I blurted. “So I didn’t…”

  He cocked a brow. “Nail Betty and Veronica? Fuck, dude, you couldn’t. After you drank all the booze, you curled into a ball and passed out.”

  Great. Lily not only ripped my heart out, she took my balls along for the ride.

  “I’m going to grab some breakfast,” Logan said as he hauled to his feet. “Take a shower. You stink.”

  I pulled the pillow over my head.

  “We’re leaving in thirty minutes,” he said on his way to the door. “With or without you.”

  “I’ll be there,” I grumbled.

  I wanted to get out of Dallas as fast as I could. Though I suspected even two hundred miles away from Lily wouldn’t be far enough to cure the ache.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  * * *

  Lily

  “Lillian, stop playing with your food and pay attention.”

  Lifting my gaze from the pile of scrambled eggs, I found my mother staring at me from across the table, her face twisted in the same disapproving expression she always wore when I was around. And I didn’t know why, since she’d won.

  For two weeks, I’d done everything she’d asked. I let her drag me to parties. To high tea. Allowed her to parade me around to all her friends like a dog she’d brought to heel. And most importantly, I resisted the urge to contact Cameron.

  Though, I wanted to. Everyday.

  The ache in my chest felt like a bullet wound. Gaping and open and painful.

  Setting my fork down, I pinned on a tight smile. “I’m s-sorry, mother. You w-were saying?”

  She cringed as I fumbled to get the words out. My stutter was always worse when she was around. Like my thoughts couldn’t find a voice if they sensed her presence.

  Maybe the words don’t want to leave your lips any more than I do.

  I felt the smile creep up from nowhere.

  My mother must’ve seen it too because she picked up her coffee cup and glared at me. “Your handicap is no laughing matter, Lillian. Maybe you should take your therapy more seriously. How do you plan to sell art if you can’t even speak?”

  I straightened in my seat. “I’m an artist, m-mother. I don’t need to open my mouth. N-Nobody cares what I have to s-say.”

  Certainly not you.

  One of her perfectly arched brows hitched up. “That’s beside the point. You don’t want to sound like an idiot, do you?”

  The blow hit me right between the eyes, and I looked down. “I’ll t-try harder.”

  Jerking when a warm hand landed on my shoulder, I offered my father a weak smile.

  “Try harder at what, Lily Bear?” he asked as he strode to the head of the table. Miles away, or so it seemed. I could never understand why we didn’t eat at the breakfast nook in the kitchen like a regular family.

  “Good morning, D-daddy.”

  Another irritated sigh from my mother drew his gaze. “What is it, Abby?” he asked as he placed the linen napkin in his lap. He didn’t really want to know, since he was already motioning
for the maid to fetch his coffee.

  I suspected my parents went days without speaking to each other. It was like they orbited two different suns. Only coming together when it was necessary. How sad.

  “Lillian refuses to take her therapy seriously. I was hoping she’d get herself in check before the holiday party season begins.”

  Something that resembled empathy flashed across my father’s features. But it was gone just as quickly. “You worry too much, Abigail. Lily is fine.” He smiled at me. “Beautiful.”

  “As long as she doesn’t open her mouth,” my mother muttered.

  Pausing with the coffee cup halfway to his lips, my father glowered at her. But only for a second. Whatever it was that made Marcus Tennison fierce in the boardroom withered in the presence of his wife. My mother would’ve made a formidable business woman.

  “I’m p-probably not going to have t-time for parties,” I ventured. “H-hopefully I’ll have a job by then.”

  “Nonsense,” my mother replied, leveling her serious blue eyes on me. “The Peterson’s son is back from Harvard and I’ve already arranged for him to accompany you to the Black and White Ball. If things go well your social calendar will be full for the entire season.”

  The ever present pit in my stomach doubled in size. “I’m not interested in dating.”

  I managed to get the sentence out in a clear voice. No fumbling. No hesitation. Maybe my mother had been right about Cameron, and he would’ve left me in the end. But the thought of letting anyone else touch me was unimaginable.

  Pursing her lips, my mother stared into her cup. “That doesn’t matter, Lillian. As long as you live in this house, you’ll do what’s expected.”

  And with that, she pushed back from the table, dropped her napkin onto her plate, and stalked from the room. I was just about to do the same when I felt my father’s eyes on me.

  “Have you spoken to your friend lately?” he inquired when I stood up.

  Friend?

  Surely he wasn’t talking about Cameron. “Tess?”

  She was the only other friend I had.

  “No…” Drawing the word out, he eased back in his chair. “The musician.”

  I shook my head. “Um… no.”

  I stopped short of mentioning our deal. Mostly because I was ashamed. No, I hadn’t taken my parents up on their offer to buy me a car. And the credit card my mother gave me remained untouched on the desk in my room. But I had let my parents pay off my school debt.

  “What is it, Lily Bear?”

  “It wasn’t part of the deal, you know that.”

  A crease formed between my father’s brow. Confusion? But why?

  “What deal?” he asked, catching my gaze and holding.

  Anger flared from deep in my belly. “Look, Daddy, I can’t t-talk about this. I know you had your reasons b-but…” I took a deep breath. “I agreed to the terms. But just so you know, I loved Cameron. And I thought maybe he felt the same. He asked me to go to Austin with him… d-did you know that?” My father’s lips parted, but I continued before he could answer. “And maybe m-mother was right. Maybe he would’ve grown tired of me. And without my d-degree or a means to support myself, I couldn’t just pack up and move.”

  I looked my father in the eye then, letting him know that I was more like him than I wanted to admit. I’d made the smart choice. Even though it gutted me. Even though I regretted it every single day. In the end, common sense had won out. And every day that passed, a little of my resolve melted. By Christmas, I’d probably give in and let my mother set me up with the son of one of the business magnates in her social circle. And maybe I’d forget about New Mexico. And art. Maybe I’d marry. Have children. And I’d die a little inside. Because my parents’ money had never given me choices. It had only taken them away.

  When I realized that I’d managed to get out the entire speech without stammering, I smiled. A small victory. I was still basking in the glow when my father said, “Come here, Lily.”

  His tone brooked no argument and my feet moved without hesitation. Sliding into the seat on his left, I folded my hands in my lap and stared at the untouched place setting. Bone china. Only the best.

  “What terms are you talking about?”

  Surely he didn’t want to pour over the details. Like my mother had always said, money was never discussed in polite company. Not if you had class. Since I feared she was right, and I didn’t have any, I decided to let it fly.

  “I know you think that a d-degree in art isn’t worth the paper it’s written on, but it’s all I have. Something that’s all m-mine.”

  Running a finger around the rim of his cup, he sighed. “I never said that, Lily.”

  “You didn’t have to. Taking away my car and refusing to pay my tuition was enough.”

  I’d never seen my father surprised. It’s what made him so good at his job. But as I looked at him now, that’s what I saw. Shock. And something else. Something more.

  Slowly his gaze shifted to the door where my mother had disappeared. And when he looked back at me, pain had replaced the confusion in his eyes.

  He took my hand, something he hadn’t done in years. “I want you to start at the beginning,” he said, his tone low and maybe a little sad. “And tell me exactly what deal you’re talking about.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  * * *

  Cameron

  I pushed myself to sitting when Logan slipped through the door of the dressing room at the Parish. “What’s the good word?”

  He walked straight to the bar in the corner, grabbed a bottle of tequila, and dropped onto the chair across from me. From the look on his face we weren’t celebrating. More like drowning our sorrows.

  “Mac says he’s not comfortable scheduling any studio time until we get our management situation squared away,” Logan said as he poured a shot for each of us. “He gave me the name of someone at Distinct Management who wants to set up a meeting.”

  Groaning, I let my head fall back. “We said we were going to hire local. I don’t want to get into another Lindsey situation.”

  Logan blew out an irritated breath. “Lindsey did a lot for us.”

  That was the guilt talking. In the six weeks since we’d fired our manager, the band’s opportunities had virtually dried up. And Logan blamed the hell out of himself. So much so that he wouldn’t see reason.

  Still, I tried. “Dude, don’t you see what Mac’s doing? He’s not our friend. He owns the label. He’s just trying to make us think we don’t have any options.”

  Logan tipped forward, glaring at me. “I hate to break it to you, but we don’t have any options. Not if we can’t secure representation.”

  “Bullshit,” Chase growled, taking a seat beside me on the couch. “You’ve got two singles on the Billboard charts. And—”

  “And our reputation is shit,” Logan interjected. “None of the big concert promotors are taking my calls. We’re fucked, man.”

  My brother chuckled dryly. “That’s what Mac wants you to think. And you’re playing right into his hand. He’s the one who set you up with Lindsey in the first place. And I got news for you, he probably knew about all the shit she was pulling.”

  Logan’s gaze found mine. “You’re giving them too much credit. Nobody knew what was going to go down in Dallas.”

  The band around my chest tightened, stealing any argument I was about to make. Because I knew he was talking about Lily. Slumping against the cushions, my mind wandered to places it shouldn’t. Like where she was. And if she was happy. And how it felt to sleep with her tangled in my arms.

  I’d tried to get over her. With varying degrees of success. A couple of days ago I’d managed to get a girl all the way back to the dressing room before giving up and sending her on her way. The minute her lips had touched mine, I knew I wasn’t ready. Unfortunately, my dick didn’t get the memo, and we were no longer on speaking terms.

  “Listen,” Chase said to Logan, using the same tone he did when I stole
his car my freshman year in high school. “Get your head out of your ass and hear me. You’re not hurting for money. Stop trying to force something to happen. This shit with Lindsey will blow over. You’ve got a gig here for as long as you need it.”

  I half expected Logan to storm out. But after the shitstorm in Dallas he was making an effort to control his temper.

  After a tense moment, Logan jerked a nod. “Yeah. Okay.” Hauling to his feet, he roughed a hand through his hair. “I’m going to go find Sean and Christian. You coming, Cam?”

  “He’ll catch up with you in a minute,” Chase said, before I could answer.

  “Don’t keep him too long,” Logan said on his way to the door. “We’ve got a show tonight.”

  “What’s up? I asked once we were alone.

  Chase pulled a postcard from his back pocket and held it out for me. “Tanner’s hosting a small show for a new artist at his gallery in a couple weeks.” I stopped short of plucking the card from his hand when I spotted the “L” in the corner beside the hand drawn flower. Flicking my gaze to my brother, I blinked at him. But he just shrugged, like the choice was mine. But it wasn’t. Lily had made her feelings clear when she left me without a word.

  I hopped to my feet. “I’m going to go find the guys.”

  Chase nodded, tucking the card back in his pocket. “Have a good show.”

  Pausing at the door with my hand on the knob, I sighed. “Why did you tell me?”

  I hated myself for asking. For wanting Lily so badly, still, that I couldn’t help myself.

  “Because she asked me to.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  * * *

  Lily

  “For someone who just sold a ton of paintings, you look seriously unhappy.”

  Taking the glass of champagne Tanner offered, I gave him a practiced smile. “I’m not unhappy. I’m…”