Rock Hard: A Bad Boy Rock Star Romance

by Archer, Arielle

  Kayla rolled her eyes. "Watch it."

  I held up my hands. "I know, I know. That was the last one. Promise."

  I turned and looked around. There really wasn't anything open. There were no lights to be seen on the first level of any building. Sure there were lights twinkling in some of the towers, but that was to be expected. And I was pretty sure none of the lights up there were hiding a diner or a restaurant or anything like that. Maybe a break room with some popcorn, but I needed dinner. I pulled out my phone and tapped, tried to find something that was actually open this time of night in this part of town.

  My face lit up. There was a small diner that was pretty close to the arena. More importantly it looked like the only place on my side of the arena that was still open.

  So with phone in hand I started navigating towards it.

  I stepped inside and the smell of burgers and fries hit my nose. That wasn't normally the kind of thing I'd go for, I had a figure to watch after all, but as far as I was concerned it was manna from the heavens tonight. I sidled up to the counter. An actual honest to God counter where you could order and eat.

  The only other person in the place was some guy at the far end with his head down chowing down on a burger and fries. This seemed like a very burger and fries type of a place.

  I decided that sounded like just the thing and I put in my order with an older waitress with a sweet smile and a voice that sounded like she’d enjoyed one cigarette too many over the years.

  The waitress had just put my meal down and I was about to bite into it. Only before I could bite down a shadow fell across me. I looked up and blinked. It was the guy who'd been sitting in the corner with his head down eating. At least I assumed this was the same guy. The hair color was the same and it's not like there was anybody else in here.

  And holy shit. Good God damn.

  I'd said I didn't have a chance of meeting a hot guy at the concert, but I guess I'd never taken into account meeting a hot guy somewhat adjacent to the concert. This guy was built without necessarily being huge. He looked like a guy who took care of himself. Spent time on the weights. Had the sort of six pack abs that showed through a tight T-shirt and made me want to lick him.

  Well then. Where the hell did that thought come from? I gave myself a mental shake. Tried to come out of this funk. Only his six pack, his toned chest, his incredible shoulders, the way he held himself, that cocky confident smile on his face. It was the full package.

  I found myself going weak in the knees. Weak to the point that it was a damn good thing I was sitting on a stool because otherwise I might be falling on my ass, and it wouldn't be a good first impression to fall on my ass right in front of this incredibly hot guy, now would it?

  Talk about your all time terrible first impressions. That would probably beat out the time I went up to ask Grant Thomas to dance with me at a seventh grade dance, incidentally it was a Twenty Promises song playing which wasn't winning any points for the group let me tell you.

  I'd tripped on my formal dress, ripping it in several places and also face planting in the process. Enough blood came pouring out of my nose that night that anyone who saw probably worried I was about to pass out from the blood loss. Only they were all wrong. I knew what was really going to kill me that night. That was the night that I very nearly had the world's very first case of a clinically proven death from embarrassment.

  Of course I wasn't even asking the good questions here. Like why did this guy decide to come over from where he was sitting and obviously trying to avoid being seen? Why was he smiling down at me with that expectant grin on his face? What was he expecting?

  Oh no. It had to be the way I was dressed. I immediately felt a blush rising. And at the same time I could've killed Kayla. He probably thought I was a hooker. I wasn't sure if hookers hung out in the financial district at this time of night, but all that was really needed was for him to assume that's what I was.

  And of course there was also another reason for that blush. A thought that ashamed me even as it excited me. I was thinking about how nice it would be to maybe play that role for a little while. Have a little fun with this guy. Even if he was the kind of guy to approach a hooker in the middle of a diner. It was completely out of character for me and it might be saying something about the dry spell I'd been dealing with that the idea of living up to my outfit and completely slutting it up was giving me a thrill.

  No, that couldn't possibly be what he thought.

  "Can I help you?" I asked.

  "So you're going to the concert?"

  I looked down at my outfit and laughed. "Am I that obvious?"

  "Well let's just say I've been to a few of these and you kind of look the part."

  A laugh and a pregnant pause where it seemed like he was waiting for me to say something. Waiting for me to do something. What the hell it was he was expecting was beyond me, but whatever.

  This guy was obviously a little weird. Incredibly hot, but just a little weird.

  "Wait a minute," I said. "Did you just say you've been to a few of these concerts?"

  There was that laugh again. Followed by that same look. Only this time there was something else there as well. Confusion. He was expecting me to react in some way, but I didn't know what the hell he was expecting.

  "Well yeah," he said. "I kind of follow the group around…"

  And then a light went off in my head. "Oh that's so sweet! You have a crush on one of the guys in the band or something? Do you go with your boyfriend?"

  Whatever it was he thought I was going to say it was plain from the look of confusion on his face that what I said was the last thing he expected. It was plain from the look on his face that I might as well have opened my mouth and started speaking in Sanskrit for all that he could understand what I was saying. And then he laughed that easy sexy laugh.

  "No," he said. "No boyfriend. I'm sort of unattached at the moment."

  I reached out and put my hand on his. I felt an electric shock. Damn. Why did it have to be that all the good ones were either taken or gay? Especially with the way his touch made me feel. Okay, so maybe it wasn't exactly his touch. I was touching him. But whatever. Close enough.

  "I'm sorry," I said. "Was it a bad breakup?"

  He took a seat at the stool next to me and leaned against the counter. He smiled again. That mysterious smile. "You might say that."

  "Well whoever he was, he doesn't deserve you!"

  "You could say that. So I take it you're not a big fan of the band?"

  I blushed again. Damn, this guy had a way of making me blush. He had a way of making me feel like that schoolgirl going up to ask Grant for that dance. It wasn't an entirely unpleasant feeling.

  "Am I that obvious?"

  "Well let's just say it's pretty obvious to me when somebody isn't a fan of the group."

  I sighed. "What can I say? They came along at a time when I was rebelling against anything popular. And they were the most ridiculously popular thing out there when I was in middle school."

  He blinked. "Middle school?"

  "Yeah? Why?"

  "Nothing," he said. "Just suddenly feeling kind of old."

  I laughed. "Are you serious? You don't look like you could be more than…"

  It suddenly occurred to me that this could be a sensitive subject. Still, he didn't look like he was any older than maybe his late twenties or early to mid thirties. Not much older than me at all, in the grand scheme of things. Sure a few years ago it would've been an eternity, but now that I was out in the real world my sense of scale when it came to age and relationships had adjusted. Not that I'd had much chance to put that revised scale into practice.

  "You can't be older than your mid thirties," I said.

  "Younger than that, actually," he said. "I just hit the big thirty, and let me tell you it's been hitting me pretty hard. You're making me feel my age saying you were in middle school when the band first hit."

  "You're being ridiculous. Besides, I'd kill to lo
ok as good as you when I'm getting to thirty. Most of the people I work with that age have really let themselves go."

  He arched an eyebrow. "As good as me? You really think I look that good, do you?"

  There was a mischievous twinkle to his eyes. A twinkle that would've sent a chill running down my spine if I didn't know he was interested in the gentlemen. Not that there was anything wrong with that particular choice, far from it. It was just frustrating knowing that particular choice was keeping me away from what seemed to be one hell of a catch at first glance.

  "You know what I mean," I said. "Obviously you keep in shape. Besides, I work with a lot of people your age, not that your age is that old. You're only like seven years older than me…"

  I was babbling. I needed to get control of myself. "The point I'm trying to make is you look damn good!"

  I wanted to put my hand over my mouth. Why the hell was I acting like this? I was acting exactly like that girl who'd been babbling at Grant right before I tripped and fell and nearly broke my nose. I had the same feeling as though I'd tripped and fell all over again, the only difference being that in this case I was tripping and falling all over myself metaphorically rather than literally. Which was less painful, physically at least, but I still wanted to curl up and die.

  Only he had that easy laugh. He had that easy look. "Well thanks for the compliment. Though I have to admit I have a question for you."

  "Shoot," I said. I was surprised at how easy conversation was coming with him. It was actually kind of weird. I hadn't hit it off with the a guy like this in forever. It figured he'd be gay.

  "If you don't really care about the band then why are you dressed up like that?"

  "Solidarity. My friend Kayla loves the band. She won a contest and got excellent seats close enough for the band to see us. She refused to let me go out in something frumpy. The last thing I wanted was to look like a groupie for a bunch of washed up rock star wannabes."

  To my surprise he threw his head back and laughed. A long loud laugh that filled the diner and got the waitress looking over to us. When he came down from that laugh he was wiping a tear from his eye and smacked the counter a couple of times. I blinked at that reaction. Definitely not what I was expecting, but it made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside to get a laugh like that.

  Not the reaction I was expecting from a guy who said he followed the group around. I figured he'd be insulted if anything at my frank assessment of the group.

  "Did I say something funny?"

  "Oh it was nothing," he said. He wiped a tear from his other eye. "You just pretty much mirrored exactly something I was saying in a conversation just a couple of months ago."

  "Oh. Well I guess great minds think alike and all that."

  "That they do," he said. "That they do."

  He glanced down at his watch and back up at me. He had a smile on his face again, but this time it was filled with regret. It really was too bad. He was fun to talk to. I had a feeling this was going to be the highlight of my evening. From here all I had to look forward to was being deafened by decade old pop rock music.

  "It was very nice to meet you…"

  I blinked. "Oh! I can't believe I forgot. I'm Mia."

  I held a hand out. He took it and I felt that electric shock again. Damn! He dripped with sexiness, and once more I found myself cursing the universe for giving that sexiness and that confidence to a guy who was only interested in other guys. It wasn't fair!

  "Nice to meet you Mia," he said. "I'm Grant."

  I sighed. Grant. Of course his name would be Grant. It was like the universe was playing some sort of cosmic joke on me. It was as though I was destined to run into a Grant every time I met an incredibly beautiful man.

  Apparently he noticed that look. "What's so funny?"

  I shook my head. "Nothing. Just the universe playing a joke on me."

  "You're funny Mia," he said. "I think I like you."

  I smiled and blushed. I found myself wondering what our children would look like, and viciously stomped down on that thought as soon as it occurred to me. "I think I like you too!"

  I was such a goofball. I thought I liked him too? What sort of idiotic stupid thing was that to say? Only miraculously he wasn't running for the hills. I figured that was a good sign. He searched my face for a moment. Once more I had the distinct feeling he was looking for something. What the hell he was looking for was beyond me.

  "You really mean that, don't you?"

  "Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

  "You'd be surprised," he said. And then he surprised me by pulling out his phone. "What's your number?"

  I leaned forward and glanced down at his phone with a thin smile. "My, we're being forward aren't we?"

  He blinked. "So you're not going to give me your number?"

  "Of course I am. I just wanted to make you work for it since it looked like you assumed you were going get it without any trouble!"

  "Again, you'd be surprised," he said.

  I reached out and took his phone. I tapped my number in and hit save. He tapped into his phone and mine buzzed. I looked down. His name. Grant. It sent a chill running through me even though I knew he was strictly off-limits and playing for the other team. Whatever. A girl could dream. A girl could fantasize.

  He smiled and winked at me. "Nice to meet you Mia," he said. "Maybe I'll see you at the concert."

  "Maybe!" I said, though I seriously doubted that was going to happen. The arena was huge. Big enough that there wasn't much chance of running into a complete stranger. Still, I had a feeling I'd get a call or a text from him at some point. Maybe we could go out shopping or something.

  I watched as he left. Damn. It was nice watching him leave. He just had that kind of body. That kind of booty. It made me want to jump him right here, even though I'm sure he wouldn't appreciate it.

  Then it happened. Just before he stepped out the door he turned around. He smiled. And then his eyes ran up and down my body and it was as though a blast furnace opened right in front of me. The heat was that intense. And I realized I'd been completely wrong about him. That wasn't the look of a gay man looking at a new girlfriend.

  No, that look was pure lust. Pure sex. That was the look of a man who was staring at a woman and really liking what he saw. Had I been completely wrong? Had I completely misread this meeting?

  And then he was gone before I could find out for sure. Before I could react to that smoldering stare. Damn.

  At least I had his number. I could figure out exactly what was going on later. Whether I was going to be shopping with him or maybe shopping for something sexy to show off for him. For now I needed to get to the concert. Track down Kayla. She was probably wondering where the hell I was.

  5: Into the Arena

  The concert was underway by the time I made it into the arena. The entrances led to a giant ring running around the arena proper. Once inside there were openings leading to stairs going down into the main concert area. Every time I passed one of those openings I could hear music blasting.

  Only it didn't sound like Twenty Promises. No, it sounded vaguely familiar, but definitely not anything I remembered from back in the day. Not that me not remembering any Twenty Promises songs actually meant anything.

  I looked down at my ticket and realized what the problem was. There was some band name I vaguely recognized opening for Twenty Promises. I quickly tapped their name into my phone and I recognized all one of their hits. Apparently there were fates worse than going on a reunion tour with a once top-of-the-charts band. You could be the opening band that barely even registered on the charts back in the day and only got to go on tour because someone in the aforementioned washed up once-popular band probably owed them a favor.

  Whatever. At least going to the diner meant I missed their opening show. Their music sounded like the kind of crap I wouldn't care for even back when I was thirteen and didn't have anything approaching discerning taste in music aside from disliking Twenty Promises.

 
; I made my way down into the arena. It was difficult to see in the darkness and I couldn’t hear myself think with the music blasting through the place. I frowned. Either they'd never heard of moderation, or years of touring various state fairs had destroyed their hearing.

  I finally found my seat and Kayla. She didn't look like she was particularly enjoying herself. For that matter it didn't seem like most of the people sitting around us were enjoying themselves.

  I smiled. At least she could get a feeling for what my experience was going to be when Twenty Promises hit the stage. Her face lit up when she saw me though, and I felt bad for thinking like that. I was supposed to be here showing solidarity for my friend, after all. Going into this with a sour attitude wasn't going to help anything.

  I was really damn impressed with the seats. When she said she won a contest she really meant she won a contest! The arena was set up with a stage at one end, to be sure, but running down the middle was a catwalk of sorts with a big circle at the end so the band could walk up and down and interact with the crowd. We were situated at the middle of the catwalk, and I figured we'd have one hell of a vantage point when the guys from the band made their way down here.

  It was a clever way of extending "front row seating" well into the middle of the crowd.

  There was barely anything separating us from that walk. Just a short fence and a beefy security guy who looked less like he spent a lot of time at the gym and more like he spent a lot of time at the McDonald's next to the gym. I wasn't sure how effective he'd be at keeping the throngs of crazy women away.

  Whatever. We had front row seats, is what I'm trying to get at, and the only problem was it was front row seats to a band I couldn't care less about seeing.

  "Where the hell have you been?" Kayla asked.

  "It took awhile to find a place that was actually open," I replied.

  I didn't say anything about the guy. Grant. He was the real reason I was so late. He was the reason I got distracted. Only for some reason I wanted to keep that part of the evening to myself. I figured it was a little bit of magic I got to enjoy all on my own, and I felt like telling Kayla about it right now would ruin the magic.