Sweet Temptation: A Players Rockstar Romance (Players, Book 3)

by Jaine Diamond

  “That’s what you’ll be doing with the Players?”

  “Definitely. We’ll be making new and totally original music. All of us together. Ash is really insistent on us not writing for our album until we’re all together in one room. That energy is important to him. And I’m really looking forward to that. Because as a DJ, it’s all about energy. When I’m onstage…” She got this kinda dreamy look in her pale-blue eyes. It was mesmerizing, like the state that came over her when she was onstage.

  It was magical, for fuck’s sake.

  I’d worked at a lot of live shows over the years, huge rock concerts… but I’d never seen anything quite like Summer Sorensen on a stage.

  “There’s this collective energy,” she explained, “between me and the audience. This… euphoria… that takes over. And it can be super fucking intense.”

  Yeah, I’d definitely felt that at her shows. Her connection to the audience, and them to her, was obvious.

  “You might’ve noticed at my brother’s place… that vibe when everyone was dancing out in the night, under the trees. It’s powerful. It’s tribal. It’s intoxicating.” She shrugged. “I just want everyone to have a good time with me. Most DJs, in my experience, don’t really want to be in the spotlight like rock stars do. It’s not about you, the DJ. It’s not about your ego. My brother and I get into debates about this all the time, but at the end of the day, it’s not about your equipment or even the music. It’s about how happy you can make the crowd. It’s about that communication with the audience, the connection. And I really want to bring that to my shows as a rock musician.”

  “I see that at your shows,” I told her. “Actually, I feel it. The way you want people to feel good. Everyone can feel it.”

  “Good.”

  “So where does that desire come from?” I asked her.

  She cocked her head at me. A surprised, curious smile lit up her face. “I don’t think anyone’s ever asked me that before.”

  “Maybe because as long as they’re happy, they don’t bother questioning it.”

  “But you do.”

  “I question everything. It’s my nature. Unfortunately.”

  “That’s not a bad thing,” she said. “What would I do without you? You questioned everything you saw when you walked into my life. And maybe I needed that. Just like you said.”

  Okay… So we were officially getting to that point in our relationship where we were starting to really open up—and vocalize—our appreciation of each other. She’d been saying things like that a lot lately.

  I kinda loved it… even when it made me uncomfortable.

  I’d decided, long ago, that I was taking a little… hiatus… from falling in love. Not that I was never gonna do it again. I’d be an idiot to make a promise like that to myself, because who the hell knew that the future held?

  But I’d definitely put my heart on ice. And out of reach of the women I met.

  It was a conscious choice.

  I just didn’t see Summer coming. This woman who’d not only thawed me out, but set me on fire.

  It was intoxicating, being admired by her. Being wanted by her.

  Being with her.

  But I also had years of honing my extreme self-control, my cool demeanor, my icy self-protectiveness… and it wasn’t so easy to just let it all go and openly bathe in her kind words.

  “Well,” I said modestly, “if it wasn’t me, Brody and Jude would find someone else. There are other men who do what I do.”

  “No,” she said firmly. “There aren’t.”

  God. She was killing me.

  Just take my heart, for fuck’s sake.

  It’s yours.

  I almost wanted to say it to her.

  Instead, I looked away, at the posters on the walls. “So, did you play all these shows?”

  “No. Most of them, yes. But some of these are just flyers from shows I went to that I loved, or ones where I loved the art they put on it. I wanted every inch of wall in this box to inspire me, so no matter which way I look, I like the view.”

  I looked at her, and she was still looking at me.

  “Did you always know you wanted to be a bodyguard?”

  “No. I had an uncle who ran the company before I did. He was always a role model for me. And then he became a mentor. If it wasn’t for him… I probably would’ve ended up in the military.”

  Or maybe in jail. Who the fuck knew?

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “Uh. I just can’t really see you marching in formation, taking orders.”

  “Why not?”

  “You’re way too alpha.”

  I smirked a little. “So maybe I’d be giving the orders?”

  She eyed me. “Nope. Still can’t see it. Underneath that stony exterior, you’re a free spirit, Ronan Sterling.”

  “Maybe. Either way, my uncle was in the military. And he told me if I went that direction I’d be dead or destroyed before I was twenty-five.”

  “Wow. That’s harsh. Though possibly true.”

  “Possibly. He probably knew me better than I knew myself at that point. So, he gave me a job. Brought me into his company while I was still in high school. He showed me the ropes, taught me everything he knew.”

  “What about your parents? Your dad? Was he a role model, too?”

  I considered that. Not like I didn’t know the answer. I was just never sure what to say to women when they asked about my family.

  It wasn’t exactly a fairytale.

  But I really had no reason not to tell her the truth. It wasn’t my fault my parents were so fucked-up.

  “My mom was fine with me joining the military,” I told her. “She was fine with me working for my uncle. She didn’t really have a lot to say on the subject. Or if she did, she didn’t voice it. My dad… wasn’t really the role model type. He was there, and they raised me together. If you could call it that. But I don’t remember him ever being happy. He was an electrician, but I don’t think he liked it. I don’t remember a day he didn’t come home from work with a frown on his face, and sit himself in the front of the TV. My parents had a pretty gray existence.”

  “Are you an only child?”

  “I am, but that was probably a good thing. I didn’t like being home. There was never much to do there, and my parents hardly spoke to each other. Except when they were fighting. I always got along better with my uncle Rob. He’s my mom’s brother. Him and his wife were like second parents to me. They never had kids of their own, but they treated me like a son.”

  “That’s amazing,” Summer said. “I’m glad you had that.”

  “Yeah. Me, too.” I studied her. “Did you always want to be a musician?”

  “For sure. I didn’t know what kind of musician until I was a teenager. I came to the DJ thing pretty early, but I’d grown up playing piano. My grandma played piano, and it was just the thing we did. Justice played, too. We’d do these little concerts in the living room for our parents.”

  “Were you and him always close?”

  “Of course,” she said simply. “He’s my baby brother.”

  I left it at that. I wasn’t sure yet what the right time would be to mention to her that her baby brother had a coke problem—and a friend problem, in the form of a drug dealing biker—but this wasn’t it.

  “So… you became DJ Summer as a teenager?”

  “Pretty much. I’d already tried out a bunch of different instruments by then. I liked experimenting with the sounds I could get out of them more than actually playing them properly and learning exact songs. But I knew how to do that, too. By the time I was in high school, I was pretty advanced compared to the other kids in my music class. I was the lead in the school band, playing piano and making arrangements for our performances with the music teacher. At that point, I guess it went to my head. I had this incredible conviction that I was gonna be a famous musician.” She laughed a little. “When I performed with the school band, everything else but t
he music and the reaction of the audience faded away in my mind. You’d think it was Madison Square Garden or something.”

  “You were a star already.”

  “I wanted to be a star, but I knew as a DJ I probably wouldn’t get all the way there. How many DJs can you actually name?”

  I blinked at her. “Who, me?”

  “Exactly. We’re not exactly household names. But I had to go down my own path and follow my musical heart. I carved out a niche for myself. I have a style and a sound and a reputation, and I have my following. But I’m ready for the next stage of my career. I’m more than ready.”

  “Well, it’ll be cool to see what you guys can do. See you take off as a band.” I wondered, as I said that, if I’d be around to see it. How long I was gonna be her bodyguard.

  Or her lover.

  “Yes, it will be.”

  “I should, uh, get out of your hair here. Let you get some work done.” I got to my feet, but hesitated.

  I looked at her there, relaxed in her composer’s chair, in her midnight-blue jumper; the vision of confidence. Gorgeous. “The zone” looked good on her.

  Everything looked good on her.

  “Thanks for playing me that song you’re working on. It’s hot as hell.”

  “I thought you didn’t know anything about music,” she teased.

  “I told you. I know what I like when I hear it.”

  And when I see it.

  She smiled up at me.

  “So… what’s on your agenda tonight?” I asked her, finding my balls. “Your schedule is mysteriously empty.”

  She studied me, probably wondering what I was getting at. “I mean, I could splash ‘party time’ across every night of the year if it helps you remember.”

  “Is it party time?”

  “I was thinking of hitting the Artemis. I know the DJ who’s playing.”

  “Of course you do.”

  “He’s from New York,” she supplied, like that was supposed to be meaningful somehow.

  “I’m sure he’s incredibly talented and it’s a can’t-miss event,” I said. “But…” I reached down, putting my hands on the arms of her chair and leaning in close to her. “Are you bent on that plan?”

  “Why? You don’t approve?”

  “Just wondering if I could sway you.” My gaze drifted down to her mouth, so close to mine, and I brushed my lips over hers. “Like maybe if I gave you a better option.”

  “And what would that option be?” she asked, a little breathless.

  “How about dinner with me? You know, in public and stuff.”

  A grin spread slowly across her face. “Why, Ronan Sterling. Did you just ask me on a date?”

  “Yes, Summer. Yes I did.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Summer

  That evening, while I was in my bedroom getting ready for my date with Ronan, Elle called.

  “For fuck’s sake, lady,” I bitched as I answered her on speaker. I was just strutting into the bathroom to touch up my makeup—wearing a strappy purple bra, panties and garter-and-stockings ensemble. “How much urgency do I have to pour into a voicemail to get your popular ass to call me back in a timely fashion?” I set the phone on the counter and dug through my makeup.

  “It sounded fun urgent,” Elle said dryly. “Not life-or-death urgent. Priorities.”

  “What is more urgent than fun?” I asked, carefully applying my favorite mascara.

  “I had a hungry baby.”

  “Fine,” I conceded. “But trust me, this is almost as important.”

  “I’m all ears.”

  “Alright…” I finished applying mascara, then stood back from the mirror and checked myself out. “Brace yourself.”

  “Okay…”

  “Flynn is in love with your sister.”

  Silence.

  I dug through my lipsticks and selected one. There was no sound from the other end of the line, and I glanced at the phone. “Elle?” I started applying lipstick. “Hello? Did you drop the phone?”

  “Uh… almost. What?”

  “Your bodyguard. Flynn. Is in love. With your sister.” I rubbed my lips gently together to blend the lipstick. “You know. Angeline. Your one and only sibling.”

  “What?”

  “Jesus, how many times do you want me to repeat it?”

  “Until it makes sense to me.”

  “Your bodyguard is in love with your little sister. Desperately.” I stood back from the mirror again, fluffing my hair. “Believe it, baby.”

  “Oh, God.”

  “Why ‘Oh, God’? This is great news.”

  “Why?”

  “Why not? Bitch, he’s been single forever. And that girl needs herself a man.”

  “Does she?”

  “You have got to make this happen.”

  “Do I?”

  “Elle Delacroix,” I scolded her. “Angeline is a sweetheart and she’s dying to fall in love. And you know Flynn is solid.”

  “Angie falls in love every other week,” she said, sounding deeply uninterested in this entire conversation.

  “Unrequited crushes are not what we’re talking about here. I think this is the real deal. He’s mad about that girl. You should’ve seen the way he was looking at her at the club last night. It was poetic.”

  “Last night? I was there last night. Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “Because I wanted to be sure. And believe me, I’m sure. And after you and Flynn left, I grilled her about Johnny O. Nothing is happening between them. She’s just crushing on him.”

  “And that proves my point, if I wasn’t being clear. My sister falls in love with rock stars. If you haven’t noticed, Flynn is not one.”

  “No, your sister drools over your rock star friends from a safe distance. That’s not the same thing.” I adjusted my bra, pumping up my cleavage. I planned to slip a pretty, sheer blouse and a flouncy silk skirt over the lingerie. The outfit would be soft on the outside, pure sex on the inside, and I was hoping my date was gonna love it. “Angeline is an old-school romantic, Elle. Just like you.”

  “Like me?”

  “Yes. Like you. But unlike you, she lives in la-la land.”

  “No shit.”

  “So maybe all that girl really needs is a good man. And not some fantasy. A real flesh-and-blood man who’ll adore her and sweep her off her feet. You know, like Seth did to you,” I pressed.

  “Right…”

  “And treat her like the angel she is.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And fuck her upside-down—”

  “Please don’t.”

  “And Flynn is dying to do it. But he thinks you’ll disapprove. I confronted the ever-loving hell out of him today, and—”

  “What? Really?”

  “Yes, really. I called him. And yes, he was as uncomfortable with my meddling as you are.”

  Elle sighed.

  “Look, Flynn respects you, Elle. And he values his job. He’s afraid it’s inappropriate. Which is why he’s the exactly right guy for you to approve of, big sister. You know he’ll treat Angie right.”

  Elle made what sounded like a gagging noise.

  “Why is this grossing you out?” I demanded.

  “Because if I have to hear my bodyguard and my sister getting it on in the next room all over the goddamn globe now, you’re in deep shit.”

  “Fine. I can live with that.”

  “You’re a romantic yourself, you know that?”

  “Of course I am. Glad you’re finally getting with the program.”

  Elle snickered.

  “Romance is the name of the game, babe. What the fuck are we all doing if we’re not looking for love? If your sister has a chance at finding that and you can help, in any way, it’s your duty as a human being.”

  “Uh-huh. So what do you want me to do about it?”

  “I want you to invite them both over, then leave the room. Better yet, leave the house. Then report back to me, obviously.”
>
  “Aughhh, why am I agreeing to this? My life is perfect right now. Perfect. I’m going on the road to see my man in like two weeks and Emma is the best and everything is amazing.”

  “So? This will only make it more amazing.”

  “For who?”

  “For them. Let them have a chance. If it’s not meant to be, it won’t work out anyway. Then he’ll leave on the road with you, and they’ll both go on with their lives. No harm, no foul.”

  “Ugh. Fine.”

  “Now that’s the spirit.”

  Elle laughed a little.

  “Angie deserves this, babe.”

  “Okay. I’ll do it already.”

  “Of course you will. Because you’re an awesome big sister. When?”

  “I don’t know. Whenever. Do you need a date and time?”

  “Yes. I do.”

  “Fine. Sometime next week, before I leave town. I’ll see when Angie’s free. Does that satisfy you?”

  “Yes, it almost does.”

  “You’re relentless,” she said, “do you know that?”

  “Thank you. I’ve always considered relentlessness one of my finer qualities.”

  She groaned, but I knew she loved me and my relentlessness. “So, what is the fabulous DJ up to tonight?”

  “I’m going out to dinner.”

  “Oooh. Who’s the lucky man?”

  “Ronan Sterling.”

  There was a silent, what-the-fuck pause. Then: “You’re going to dinner with your bodyguard?”

  “Yup.”

  “That sounds suspiciously like a date, Summer.”

  I grinned at myself in the mirror. My makeup and hair were done, and I was pretty sure in this lingerie I looked about as fuckable as Ronan had ever seen me.

  “Who’s paying?” Elle pressed.

  Hmm. Come to think of it… he’d never even let me pay for any of the takeout he’d ordered for me. “He always pays, actually.”

  “What? What do you mean always? Have you been on other dates with him??”