Rock Star Romance Ultimate Volume 2

by Mankin, Michelle

  That was followed by about fifty happy face emojis with stars in their eyes.

  I groaned and tossed my phone aside. Then I stretched my achy, probably-still-a-little-drunk body and sat up.

  Unlike Devi, who was dreaming up all the fabulous modeling jobs I should now try out for, I was in denial about this whole thing. It was just too much to wrap my head around the fact that I was now holding company with the likes of Rihanna and Adele—other women whose videos were watched as much as mine was, and oh yeah, were so famous they went by only one name. Kinda like Jesse Mayes’ real girlfriend, Elle.

  Not that I was that famous, but still.

  Fucking weird.

  At least all those women had actual talent. Not only did I not particularly want to be famous, I very particularly did not want to be famous for doing absolutely nothing but putting on some lacy underwear and getting groped by a rock star. Which I now kinda was.

  While I contemplated this, Max whined and snuffled my foot.

  “Yeah, Max. I know. Pee and food.”

  I gave myself three more seconds to be weirded out by all of it, then dragged my ass off the bed. Because even though I was some kind of music video sensation out there in internet land, in real life I was still a regular girl with bills to pay, no boyfriend—rock star or otherwise—and a job to do. A crappy job, but still.

  And a dog to take outside to pee.

  ***

  It was a gorgeous mid-summer morning, trees heavy with blossoms and the air sweet with the scent of freshly-mowed grass. The sun was already blazing out of a flawless blue sky. Max jogged alongside my skateboard as I rolled to work, tongue lolling contentedly out the side of his mouth.

  Really, my life was pretty good.

  By that I meant my life, not the life of that girl in the video who got to roll around in bed with Jesse Mayes. Because clearly that life didn’t exist, as evidenced by the fact that once we were finished shooting it, I never saw him again.

  That didn’t mean my life hadn’t changed at all.

  I was still the same person, but now I had little kids coming up to me asking for my autograph, jealous chicks giving me catty stare downs, and random guys hitting on me a lot more than they used to. I’d even gone on a few dates. They weren’t exactly earth-shattering or anything, but really, one could hardly expect regular, mortal dudes to compare with Jesse Fucking Mayes. Which was okay. Once the overwhelming memories of my hours in bed with him eventually dissipated, and the crazy, sexy dreams stopped, I was sure to find someone super cool who’d rock my world, right?

  Or so I’d been telling myself to get over the feeling that the most thrilling thing I’d ever done, and may ever do, was over. And it wasn’t happening again.

  Forget about it, I told myself, part of my new daily mantra. It was cool. It was crazy. It was brief.

  It’s done.

  Welcome to reality. It’s not so bad.

  My sister’s place was a beautifully maintained heritage house in Mount Pleasant, less than five minutes from my apartment, where Nudge Coffee Bar occupied the front rooms. If I thought I could get away with it, I would’ve rolled right on past and taken Max for a longer cruise around the neighborhood, but I was already running late, thanks to my red wine hangover. So I turned my skateboard and rolled on up the sidewalk toward the house.

  I noticed the big dude out front right away. Kinda hard to miss. Over six feet, muscles bulging from his sleeveless black shirt. He was wearing dark shades and leaning on a black luxury car parked in the no-parking zone, and for a dude with a giant tattoo of a gnarly tree running up one arm he kinda had the vibe of a Secret Service agent. Or maybe a bodyguard…

  Holy shit.

  I rolled to a halt.

  A rock star was sitting on the stairs to the front porch of my sister’s house. Which would explain all the vibrating my cell phone was doing in my ass pocket on the way here. Kinda regretted ignoring that now.

  He was wearing shades so I wasn’t sure he’d seen me yet. He had a takeout coffee cup in hand and I started rapidly calculating the odds that he’d just happened by for coffee. Then his head tilted in my direction and a dazzling smile broke out on his face. He stood and started walking over to me.

  Shit.

  I looked away for a sec to get my bearings. I was in the right place, right? I was awake, right? This wasn’t just another horny dream where we were about to go at it on the hood of his car while his bodyguard watched and then I woke up in a sweaty heap, alone with my dog?

  I popped my skateboard up into my hand and let Max’s leash out enough so he could bounce over to Jesse Mayes, which he was dying to do. I watched as Jesse Mayes patted my dog, then slipped his shades up onto his head where they sat in his thick, dark curls.

  He stopped in front of me. “Katie Bloom.” He was still smiling when he said my name.

  “Jesse Mayes,” I said as coolly as I could while my heart drummed like a Dylan Cope drum solo. His eyes dropped to my chest and for a split second I thought he could actually hear it. Then I remembered it was supposed to be hot as fuck today, so I was wearing a skimpy white halter-style bikini top and the tiniest jean shorts I owned.

  Even though he’d seen me in less, I felt utterly naked as he looked me over. His smile faded, replaced with the same dark, unreadable look he’d given me most of the time we were shooting that video.

  “Um… I thought rock stars didn’t get out of bed before noon or whatever,” I said. Because it was really fucking early in the morning to be standing face-to-face with Jesse Mayes, unprepared. And it was definitely too early for him to be looking so good.

  “You’ve been in bed with a rock star?” he asked, straight-faced.

  “Just the once.”

  At that, he grinned again. “You got a minute?”

  For you? Um, yeah. Pretty sure I could find the time.

  “Uh-huh. Want to come around back? I need to drop Max off.”

  “Lead the way.”

  We headed around the back of the house, Jesse’s bodyguard remaining out front, but it was Max who actually led the way, bounding down the side lane and through the backyard gate. The fence was overgrown with trees and the entire yard was a maze of sometimes competing shrubs and gardens; my sister and her husband had dueling green thumbs. The yard said comfy chaos, and I loved it. It was one of my favorite places in the world.

  And now Jesse Mayes was standing in it.

  Trippy.

  My niece and nephew came screaming in our direction.

  “Katie!” Owen screeched, hurling himself at my leg.

  “You’re late,” Sadie announced.

  Great. Owen and Sadie were four and six years old, respectively, and had zero concept of time. Which meant my sister had been looking for me.

  I bent and kissed Owen on his blond head, tussling his unruly hair. “Go tell your mom I’ll be in in a few minutes, please.”

  “Yeah!” Owen dashed into the house, happy to have a job to do.

  “I’m going to talk to, um, my friend,” I informed Sadie, who was standing by, playing with the hem of her sundress and staring at Jesse. “Can you go play with Max?”

  “Okay,” she said, and steered Max over to the play area in the corner of the yard.

  I watched them go, giving myself an extra few seconds to take a breath. Sadie watched Jesse over her shoulder the entire way, reminding me of the young girls who came up to me now and then demanding to know what Jesse Mayes was like. I usually told them he was super nice, because it was adorable when they got all giggly and starry-eyed. But the truth was I had no idea whether or not the guy was nice.

  All I knew was that he’d paid me a hell of a lot of money so he could grope me, kiss me, and thrust his hard cock against me until I almost saw stars; then he’d tossed me to one of his big biker-looking security guards, who drove me home.

  And now here he was, and I was pretty sure he was checking out my ass in my jean shorts… because they were that small, and honestly, if I was a co
cky rock star, that’s what I’d be doing.

  I turned to face him and smiled. Like it was no big deal that he was standing here on the cobbled path between Becca’s rose bushes and Jack’s hydrangeas, looking at my ass.

  “Cute kids,” he said.

  “My niece and nephew.”

  I blinked up at him, wishing I’d put on some makeup to cover up the sangria-induced circles under my eyes, instead of just planning to whip on some lip gloss and mascara once I got to work. Because the man was nothing short of dazzling, the sunlight catching in his eyelashes and glinting off his rings, blinding me as it bounced off the white T-shirt stretched over his hard pecs.

  “Did you enjoy the pie?” he asked, all innocence, showing a flash of perfect white teeth.

  Right. The pie.

  Even though I hadn’t seen him since the video shoot, I had heard from him. Once.

  Sort of.

  The morning after the shoot, he’d sent me a pie. Which was kind of cruel, since it just got my hopes up that I might actually see him again, or that sending me pies might be some kind of regular thing. It wasn’t. There was only the one, sent to my apartment from Stella’s Pies. A delivery guy had shown up with it, with a card that said, I hear they’re the best in town. J.

  The pie was cherry.

  “It was good,” I said.

  “Just good?”

  “Mine are better.”

  “I thought Stella’s was the best.”

  “That’s because you haven’t tasted mine.”

  “I’d be happy to taste your pie, babe.”

  Whoa.

  On the other side of the yard, Max barked as Owen came running back outside. I watched my dog frolic happily with the kids in their giant sandbox, which gave me an excuse to look distracted so I could recover from that comment.

  “Well,” I said, taking a chance, “maybe I can make you one sometime.”

  “I’d like that,” he said. Which made my heart skip a few beats and gave me all kinds of wrong ideas.

  “Look.” He sat down on one of the stone benches in his ripped jeans, spreading his hard thighs, and gestured for me to sit across from him. “I want to apologize to you.”

  I didn’t know quite how to take that. It was pretty much the last thing I expected him to say.

  I sat down. “For what?”

  “For kissing you at the video shoot,” he said, “in that… situation.”

  I noticed he didn’t say for kissing me, period.

  “For making you uncomfortable. You know, being an asshole.” A smile twitched at the corner of his gorgeous mouth. “Should I go on?”

  “Or you could just stop doing things you need to apologize for.”

  “I’ll work on that.” He sipped his coffee. “Seriously, though. Sorry about that whole cock-struck thing. I honestly thought you were just there to meet Zane.”

  That, I didn’t understand. Zane was gorgeous and all, but Jesse? Shit.

  I studied him for any hint that he was kidding, but it wasn’t there. “That happen to you a lot?”

  He smiled, an incredibly genuine smile. “More than I like to admit.”

  Wow. Who knew cockiness blended with just the right dash of humility was so… hot.

  I didn’t know what to say. When I’d left the video shoot I definitely hadn’t expected a morning-after pie, much less an apology in my sister’s backyard.

  “Okay,” I said. “If it makes you feel better. I forgive you. But really, being kissed by you was hardly a low moment in my life.” I felt my cheeks heating even as I said the words, but I said them anyway, in keeping with my promise to Devi to keep grabbing life by the balls. “It’s cool of you, but you really didn’t need to come here just to apologize.”

  “I’m not here just to apologize,” he said. “I’m here to ask you to come on tour with me.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  * * *

  Katie

  Jesse Mayes wanted me to go on tour with him.

  Um.

  What?

  Apparently I was wrong before. That was the last thing I expected him to say.

  “As my girlfriend,” he added.

  Wrong again. That was the last thing I expected him to say.

  “You know, like in the video.”

  I blinked at him. Repeatedly. “Um… in the video we were acting.”

  “Yeah.”

  I stared at him. For a while.

  Then I started to get annoyed. What the hell did he think I was, some kind of rent-a-babe?

  “Yeah,” I said, a little edge to my voice. “And you were… you know…”

  His mouth curled in a devious grin. “Hard.”

  Jesus. He didn’t even try to make excuses or act the slightest degree embarrassed about it. Kind of made me feel sorry for his real girlfriend. Even though she was gorgeous, talented and filthy rich. I mean, her boyfriend was in bed with me, with a giant erection, and he wasn’t even pretending to care.

  And now this?

  “But you have a girlfriend.”

  “Nope,” he said. “Broke up.”

  Okay. Totally new information.

  My hungover brain scrambled to make sense of it.

  “But you were together when we shot the video?”

  “Actually, we broke up over a month before the shoot. Just didn’t go public with it yet.”

  Shit.

  Which meant when we shot the video he wasn’t being a dirty, cheating bastard when he kissed me.

  I figured he’d only done it because his giant ego was bruised when he thought I was into Zane. And I’d only kissed him back because with his tongue in my mouth I’d kind of forgotten, momentarily, that he wasn’t single.

  I definitely would’ve felt a lot less dirty and conflicted over the whole thing, though, if I’d known he was.

  He stared at me, grinning, as I contemplated this. I stared back, blushing like an idiot. Just trying to calm myself the fuck down and listen to what the man was saying. Because he wasn’t asking me to be his girlfriend. He was asking me to be his girlfriend like in the video. Which meant…

  “But… you were paying me to… um… do all that stuff.”

  “Right.”

  “So you want to hire me to be your fake girlfriend?”

  “Yeah, on tour.” When I just stared at him, he added, “A tour is what musicians do, usually after putting out a new album. You know, they schedule shows at various venues and people buy tickets to those shows and then the musicians show up and play their songs.”

  I frowned at him. “I know what a tour is.”

  “You looked a little confused.”

  Try a lot confused. “I think I need more information.”

  “Sure. I’m doing a six-week North American tour in support of my new album. Mostly in the U.S., a couple of shows here in Canada. And Brody’s phone has been ringing off the hook. Everyone wants the scoop on the new girl.”

  “New girl?”

  “The girl in the video,” he said. “That’s you.”

  Right.

  “So apparently I have you to thank for the video being such a success.”

  “Um… you’re welcome?”

  He sipped his coffee. “Because, according to the gossip, we might be an item.”

  Yeah, I’d heard “the gossip” too. Thanks to Devi. Though I’d chosen to ignore it, since it wasn’t true.

  “I watched the video last night,” he said, and I felt the heat rise in my cheeks again. The mere thought of Jesse Mayes watching that video… all those close-up shots of embarrassing things like my fingernails digging into his skin and my bottom lip shaking as I breathed… “You looked like you were enjoying yourself.”

  I blushed harder, but I couldn’t exactly argue with that.

  “So did you,” I countered.

  “I was.”

  God.

  “So what do you say?”

  I cleared my throat. “You want to pay me to pretend to be your girlfriend for six weeks?”


  “Yes.”

  “Like, twenty-four seven?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your girlfriend.”

  “Yes.”

  “Like I did in that video?”

  “Exactly like that.”

  Um. “Why?”

  “Because this is my first solo album and it means a lot to me. The song’s doing well, and that’s got a lot to do with you. Even if you’re too modest to admit it, I can tell you it’s a fact. But since the breakup…” He glanced over at the kids and rubbed a hand on the back of his neck, which I took to be Jesse Mayes in thought or possibly even nervous, which was hella cute. “Elle’s solo album did incredibly well. It’s sold more than the last two Dirty albums combined. Between the album and her other side projects, movies, cosmetics… she’s killing it. And there are a lot of people who think this album will only sell if she’s somehow attached. Some of those people are at the record company.”

  “But… you’re the talent. I mean, not that Elle isn’t talented… but you write the songs, right?”

  He looked at me like I was adorably naïve. “It’s not about talent, Katie. It’s about what sells. And if they’re right, they won’t back another solo album from me.” He leaned in, resting his elbows on his knees. “When Elle and I were dating, we were everywhere. We were visible. Everyone wanted to know every little detail of our relationship. Now that’s over. We haven’t exactly confirmed or denied, but there’s only so long we can avoid the question. Only so long I can expect Elle to pretend she’s still with me and not let her get on with her life, just to help my career. I need to let her off the hook, officially. I’m doing it tomorrow.”

  “But I would’ve thought your female fans would love you going single.”

  His lips quirked. “You might think so, right? But even so, I need some help staying in the minds of the fans. There’s a saying, you’re only as big as your last album. Or these days you could say your last single. Well, Dirty’s last album came out almost two years ago. The tour is long over. And I’ve never done a solo album before. But you, sweetheart, you come out of nowhere, and you sell.” His dark eyes blazed into me. “Or at least you and me together, we sell.”