by Gia Riley
Rock the City
Copyright © 2016 by Gia Riley
All Rights Reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded, or distributed via the Internet without the publisher’s permission and is in violation of the International copyright law.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Cover designer:
Sommer Stein, Perfect Pear Creative
Interior design and formatting:
Christine Borgford, Perfectly Publishable
Editing:
Hot Tree Editing
Table of Contents
Rock the City
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Epilogue
About The Author
Other Work by Gia Riley
Acknowledgements
To family.
Whether by blood or by circumstance, love is all that matters.
Most girls turn into demons when they’re upset, and the one who just ran by me looked mad enough to murder someone. It’s been a slow night, and I’m so bored I’d rather get wasted than think about all the things I could be doing back home.
I haven’t seen my family in months. I haven’t written any music in weeks, and what bothers me most is how much I envy my bandmates and the relationships they have—that all-consuming love that eats you alive before you ever see it coming.
That’s why, as I approach this mystery girl, the one I’ve already had my eye on, I realize this might be the last chance I have to speak to her. Even if she doesn’t want me near her, I have to get closer for reasons I don’t totally understand. All I know is that each time our paths have crossed, I feel like she’s been silently speaking to me, wishing I was able to read her mind.
If I did have superpowers, I’d use them all on her just to make her smile and so she’d never know what pain felt like, even if it’s already written all over her face.
“Are you okay?” I ask her cautiously.
At first, she ignores me, but after she brushes her tears away, she turns around with her arms dangling by her side. “What do you want?” she asks, as defeat continues to consume her.
“To make sure you’re okay.”
Like she just realized how pathetic she sounded, she stands a little straighter, crossing her arms over her chest. With a stronger voice, she says, “And if I’m not? What are you going to do about it?”
She’s feisty—just like I hoped she’d be.
“I’ll help you,” I tell her without thinking it through. I may not even be qualified to listen to her story, but considering the pull toward her is even stronger now that we’ve spoken, I’d do it anyway. Her tears don’t change the way I feel about her.
She’s practically shaking, but her eyes brighten the slightest bit as a hopeful tear flutters across her lashes. “You’re the drummer from Midnight Fate, aren’t you?”
It always makes me cringe when girls ask me that because I know what comes next. Now that she’s recognized me, she’ll probably turn into a super fan, asking me for an autograph as she morphs into the same obnoxious girl I meet every night of the week. I silently beg for her to be different.
Still, I play the part that’s expected of me, holding out my hand for her to shake, praying she’s as different as I think she could be. “Lane Lewis,” I tell her. “Nice to meet you.”
She bypasses my hand completely, reaching out and hugging me instead. Despite our difference in height, my six feet three inches to her barely five feet, she catches me so off guard I stumble backward. I don’t even know her name, but I’d never let her fall.
“Sorry,” she says once she regains her balance. “I’m a big fan. I’m sure you get that all the time, but my best friend is with your lead singer, Easton. That’s probably old news to you though.”
“Actually, I try to stay out Easton’s business.”
“Oh, I guess I just messed that up for you then.”
Already hooked on her smile, I can’t help but grin along with her. Sure, I’ve had girls jump on me, beg me to marry them and then some, but even though she was just as eager to meet me, I’m not the least bit put off by her. Unlike all the others, I’m intrigued. That’s why I’m not afraid when I take an unexpected leap. “Do you want to go someplace and talk?”
Her eyes brighten and cast away the shadows. “Really? You’d do that for me?”
I nod, shoving my hands in my pockets to keep from touching her the way I want to. “Yeah, I would. You look like you could use a friend right now.”
Like I reminded her of why she was standing here in the first place, a little bit of the light I put back in her eyes burns out. “Can we go back to my room?”
Surprised by her bold invitation, I pray she’s not going to ruin this. Mostly because I wouldn’t be able to tell her no, even if I want so much more than sex with her. “Your room?”
“I promise I’m not going to try anything. I just don’t want to stay around here and deal with anymore bullshit.”
I’ve seen it many times; a beautiful girl comes on one of these cruises to find her perfect guy, only to be let down when she finds out he’s all wrong for her—not at all what she was hoping for. Talking to me isn’t going to make him a better match for her. It isn’t going to take away her problems either; they’ll still be there when we’re finished. But what we do between now and then, that could be a game changer.
Against my better judgement, she makes me say yes with one simple look. I’m pretty sure she could get me to do just about anything right now. “I’ll go if you tell me your name.”
Blushing, she ducks her head and smiles. “It’s Noelle.”
I nod toward the elevators, letting her lead the way. “Let’s go.”
She’s quiet the entire walk back to her room, and I already sense a million questions swirling around in that gorgeous head of hers. I’m sure she’s about to set the first one free when I catch her watching me out of the corner of her eye, but she holds onto it a little while longer.
Once we’re in her room, she waits until the door closes behind me before she sits on the edge of the bed and curls up with a pillow, watching me like I’m here to put on a private show just for her.
I�
�m not the biggest talker, but if I don’t say something soon, this will end up with the both of us naked. That’s how much I already want her.
“What are you thinking about?” she finally asks, breaking the ice but making the sexual tension that much thicker.
I could lie and talk about the weather, or tell her the truth. On a whim, I decide to go with the truth. “I’m thinking about how pretty you are.”
“Are you trying to get me naked?” she fires back right away, but she doesn’t seem the least bit mad. In fact, she seems happy I’m interested.
“Would I have to try?”
Smirking, she finally laughs, a sound so unexpected it’s borderline obnoxious. But it’s also infectious, leaving me wanting more instead of praying for it to end. “You’d be surprised what a girl from the country can do.”
I don’t doubt it.
We easily talk for two more hours, starting with what makes the country so enticing and ending up with her forgetting all about her tears. The time passes by so fast it seems more like ten minutes.
“I have to pee,” she says as she scurries off the bed and into the bathroom like we’ve been friends for years.
The entire time she’s gone, I look around her room for hints about her. The perfume she wears sits on the table. Her drink of choice sits on top of the mini fridge. A half-eaten chocolate chip cookie wrapped in plastic rests next to the bed. I don’t know what it is about the cookie specifically, but the simple fact that she’s a dessert girl speaks volumes compared to anything else in the room.
When she finishes in the bathroom and walks toward the bed where I’m still sitting, the air in the room shifts. Her eyes meet mine and the instant attraction I continue to have for her doesn’t go away—it only grows stronger.
Without question, she walks into my arms and stands between my legs. She’s not much taller than me, even though I’m sitting down, but in the short distance I have to look up at her I see so many truths and a whole lot of questions behind her eyes. Each one lures me in and has me craving more of her story.
The urge to kiss her becomes so strong I lick my lips, already imagining her mouth on mine.
She does the same thing, her gaze zoned in on the tip of my tongue as I brush it back and forth over my bottom lip. “Are you going to kiss me now?” she asks, in a voice barely above a whisper.
I reach out for her face, cupping her delicate jaw in the palm of my hands. The callused tip of my thumb rubs over her pink lips and, without answering her question, I show her my response.
Like they’ve been on a collision course since I first laid eyes on her, our lips crash together. It’s as if they’re being reunited after a long break. Nothing about it is awkward or forced—it’s simply meant to be.
When we finally do pull apart, I expect a smile that matches mine, but it’s not there. Instead, all I see is regret. “What’s wrong?” I ask her, wishing we could go back in time if the kiss we shared is going to mess up what we had.
“Everything’s wrong.”
“What do you mean?” Even though she’s not giving me the response I was expecting, I wrap my arms around her waist, keeping her right where I want her. At least until she tells me more.
“Lane, that was exactly what I was hoping for.”
Not understanding, I wait for her to elaborate, but she doesn’t. “And that’s a bad thing?”
“Maybe,” she whispers.
With as much conviction as I can possess, I tell her, “Maybe it’s time to stop questioning why you’re in my arms and focus on how good it feels to be here.”
She pauses and blinks a couple times, like she wants to get lost in nothing for a little while. Still, I can feel the wheels turning inside her. She’s anything but settled. “I’ve watched you on stage this week. I’ve seen you on TV and I’ve even been to your shows. You’re talented and amazing, but I’m scared to want you, Lane. Your world’s so different than mine. I’m scared I’ll lose you before I even get you.”
I rest my head against her stomach, breathing in her sweet coconut lotion. “But you want me anyway, don’t you?”
Without a single pause or stammer, she replies easily. “Yeah. I think I do.”
Six months later . . .
“Are you sure you have everything? What about protection?”
I turn around in my tight closet, hangers poking me and a couple shirts falling to the floor in a heap, all while staring at my best friend, Lark, like she’s lost her damn mind. “I’m about to see Lane in person, after doing this whole long-distance thing for almost six months, and you ask if I have condoms?”
Lark narrows her eyes, not completely understanding why I have a problem with her question. “Um, yeah. That’s pretty much what I’m asking.”
I take her by the hand, sitting her down on the bed. “I get we don’t live together anymore, now that you’re married to Easton and all, but have you completely forgotten who I am?”
Laughing, she stands and opens my suitcase. Her smile grows as she discovers just how much protection I’ve already packed. “Three boxes? You’re only going to New York for two weeks, right? Plus, I’m pretty sure they sell rubbers in the city.”
If I didn’t have my salon to worry about, I’d stay longer, but there are only so many days I can stay away when I’m the boss. Lane wasn’t thrilled, mostly because if he had it his way, I’d be packing all my shit into boxes and moving in with him—just like Lark did with Easton. When the men of Midnight Fate fall, they fall hard, and they’re all in. Even if it takes a little while to get there.
“Noelle?”
“Yeah, two weeks. Sorry.”
“You realize there’s thirty-six in each box?”
I walk over and glance at the three black boxes. “I hope I have enough. Math’s never been my strength.”
Lark falls to the floor, laughing her ass off. “If you two do it a hundred and eight times, I’ll have to take one of you to the hospital. Maybe both.”
“According to my calculations, that’s roughly seven times a day. That’s totally doable.”
She stares at me, her laughter slowly fading once she realizes I’m not joking. I never kid about sex. When she sits up, she folds her arms over her chest. “I’ve been on a honeymoon, Noelle. My husband is a complete hornball, and even we didn’t come close to seven times a day.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that.”
“Just pack your stuff so we can get to New York before they get off the bus. I want to surprise them. Gina’s meeting us there.”
I still can’t believe that after five and a half months on tour, and being about as far apart as we could possibly be from one another, that I’m about to be reunited with Lane—the guy I fell so hard for after one of the most memorable weeks of my life.
Sure, maybe we didn’t have the most romantic meeting, given the fact that we were on a cruise ship in the middle of the Caribbean. But after seeing him, I realized I hadn’t gone all that way for nothing.
I may never understand how we happened to be in the same place at the right time, but no matter what the cause, Lane rescued me when I thought I wasn’t worthy of love. When I was positive I’d go on being invisible, he told me differently. He showed me I was enough for him.
“I don’t want to leave you,” he whispers against my face as I hold tightly to the handle on my suitcase, wishing it was him I were holding onto instead.
“I don’t want to go either, but we both have a world to get back to.”
He doesn’t disagree as he grabs onto my hip, pulling me against him. “Promise me you’ll still want this when you get home.”
“I’m sad we don’t have more time, but this feeling inside me isn’t going to disappear in a day, Lane. If it does, I’ll see a doctor—because surely I’d have lost my damn mind.”
He stands up, laughing as he puts even more distance between us. When I look up and into his eyes, I see a man I’m going to enjoy getting to know beyond this physical pull we have. And as I stand he
re memorizing every inch of his face, in case I never get to see it in person again, I say a silent prayer that he’ll still want me in the morning and every morning after that.
“Don’t question it, Noelle. You have nothing to worry about.”
“I believe you,” I tell him. “Just don’t make me regret it.”
Looking back, I’d have regretted not giving Lane a shot. For me, all our moments—whether face to face or from a distance—have been equally special. The little bit of time we’ve spent physically holding each other doesn’t seem that insignificant—not when I’ve been holding him in my heart for months.
Those first calming moments grounded me, and they’ll always be ours.
Lark tosses a T-shirt at me. “Hey, stop daydreaming. You’ll see him soon enough.”
“It’ll never be too soon,” I tell her, already wondering if it’ll be like we’ve never been apart a single day, or if we’ll have to work on the connection I felt so strongly about before he left. “I haven’t talked to Gina in a while. She kind of feels like a stranger lately, but I take it she and Dom are still solid?”
Lark tosses a sweater in my suitcase I wasn’t planning on bringing because the more clothes I’m wearing, the less likely I am to be screwing my man.
“They survived touring together, so I’d say so.”
I was the only one who had to stay home because of my job. Lark’s still working as the band’s publicist, and the guys gave Gina a job as their financial advisor, with her being an accountant and all.
The day they all left was the first day I ever regretted having my own business. More than anything, I wanted to close up shop and live life on the road, but I worked too hard to get where I am to give it all up. “What about you? You toured with them, too.”
She smiles, rolling her eyes. “Let me tell you, PR for Midnight Fate is no joke. You wouldn’t believe the stuff people try to pull, mostly the gossip magazines. They have no shame in making up stories, that’s for sure.”
“So, if you skipped out at the end of the tour, who was watching over them all week?”
“Even when I’m not there, it’s still my job. In fact, just last week, I squashed a story about you.”
