Interview with the Rock Star

by Rylee Swann

  I look at James. “I almost died.”

  He shrugs and wipes his nose on his sleeve. “Yeah. Got the measurements wrong on that one.”

  “How could you do that to me?”

  He just lifts his shoulders again. “I did it for you, cuz. You were so pussy whipped that you couldn’t see what being with that bitch was doing to your career.”

  “So you just took my money away? Took Presley away? Took my free will away?”

  I feel like such a fool.

  “Nah, it wasn’t like that. I was helping your career. I was keeping you on stage, wasn’t I?”

  He was destroying me, and I didn’t even see it.

  Stephen points at me. “Don’t go there, man. No more guilt. You were set up by someone you trusted, and this bastard needs to pay.”

  James laughs. “What are you going to do? Call the big ass police? Have me arrested? Yeah, you can probably nail some of the money on me, but you can’t prove anything else.”

  The camera.

  I turn to where my iPad is propped up. It’s still streaming. I can see this entire scene playing out in the little box in the corner.

  I look back to James, who is examining his nose. “Anything else you want to get off your chest while you’re here?” I begin to tick his crimes off on my fingers. “Let’s see… you embezzled money from me. You laced drugs and purposefully got me addicted.”

  He scoffs. “I didn’t shove that shit up your nose.”

  I nod. “True. I did that myself. I’ll own the coke and I’ll own the booze. What all did you lace it with?”

  He shrugs. “Depended on the day. Sometimes you needed to be hyped. Sometimes you needed to sleep. So…” He shrugs again. “Lots of things.” He meets my eyes for the first time. “But I didn’t mean to almost kill you, man. Seriously. That just got out of control. You’ve gotta believe me.”

  “I’m sure you didn’t. You wouldn’t want to kill the horse pulling your gravy train, would you?”

  He doesn’t answer, and I swear, if he shrugs one more time, I’ll drill him into the floor.

  I have a burning question. “James, didn’t you see what that was doing to me? Didn’t you give a single shit?”

  He rolls his eyes. “Stop being dramatic. You were doing what rock stars do. I was helping you, man.”

  I shake my head. He really believes it.

  There’s a pounding on my door. Stephen looks at me, and when I shake my head, he goes over to open it.

  Two policemen enter the room, and James pops up from his seat, pointing an accusing finger at Stephen. “You said you wouldn’t involve the cops.”

  Stephen looks at me and shakes his head. He’s clearly as perplexed by their arrival as I am.

  “We received a tip that something was going down here. We pulled up the live stream and it was easy to find you from there.”

  James looks from Stephen to me, then back to the police. “What live stream?”

  I point to my iPad. “I’ve heard that true confession is good for the soul.”

  He scowls and lunges for me but is held back and placed in cuffs. The Miranda rights have never sounded so sweet as they did right then.

  “We’ll need you both to come to the station in the morning to answer a few questions.”

  Stephen and I both nod, and I sit down heavy in my chair as they leave.

  “You okay?”

  He hands me a bottle of water, and I take a long sip. “Yeah. I think I am. Thanks.” I meet his eyes. “I mean it, thank you. I…” Shit. I can’t finish and take another long sip. “I didn’t cheat on her. Do you know what that means to me to know that?”

  Stephen scowls at the door. “Yeah. I can imagine. Think you’ve proven it to her now?”

  “I…” The word trails off.

  My phone.

  I turn and look at where it still lies next to the iPad.

  I haven’t seen her message yet. Don’t have any idea what it says.

  Pushing up from the chair, I walk over to the table and sit down there, my legs feeling like concrete.

  Maybe I should turn the live streaming off now, I think randomly as I pick up the phone.

  No. I’ve shared every piece of me. Might as well share this.

  The subject line has one word: Yes

  My heart picks up speed.

  Kace, you’ve proven it to me, and now I want to prove it to you. I forgive you. I love you. I’ve loved you all my life. I want to see you. I want us to talk. Let’s make these past ten years of separation worth it.

  She sent this before the scene with James.

  I let that sink in.

  Then I smile into the camera.

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  EPILOGUE

  Presley

  But I won’t stop

  I won’t fall

  I did that all before

  No, I won’t stop

  I won’t fall

  Because

  When nothing else matters

  It matters the most.

  Every single person in the coliseum is singing along with Kace as he belts out his two-hit wonder. Including me.

  I look over at my friend Phyllis, who is singing along too, a happy smile on her face as she leans back in Stephen’s arms, their fingers linked together.

  Happiness.

  Pure happiness floods through me.

  Not just for them but for me too.

  Placing my hands over my belly, I smile at the tiny secret deep inside me, still marveling at the idea. There’s a little bit of worry, yes. But it’s overshadowed with complete and utter bliss.

  Today is another anniversary.

  A year ago today, Valentine’s Day was very different. I watched the drama unfold on that screen, and the following day, true to his word, he was in Knoxville again.

  We took it slow.

  We talked and got to know each other again.

  We took long walks by the river and spoke on the phone every night when he was on tour.

  It was a month before we kissed. Another month before we made love.

  We’ve fucked like bunnies since then.

  I press my hands on my belly again. And this is the result.

  The last lines of the song echo through the cavernous building, and the screaming of the fans come even louder and more intense.

  A very sweaty Kace runs toward me and sweeps me up into his arms. My toes curl when his lips find mine, but I’m not swept back into the past. I’m firmly in the present.

  The fans scream for an encore, but I can tell Kace is torn about leaving me. I push against him. “Go, Mr. Rock Star. We have all night.”

  When the show is officially over, I get another sweaty kiss and he drags me to his dressing room so he can shower and change.

  I wave to Phyllis over my shoulder, but she and Stephen are kissing and she doesn’t see.

  I wonder if he’ll propose to her tonight. The first moment they set eyes on each other, I could practically feel the sparks coming off them like an electrical storm. I’m happy for her. Them. I’m happy for us all.

  Kace has brought up marriage, tiptoeing around it like the subject itself is a hungry bear.

  There is no rush.

  I don’t need the pressure of the wedding. Or the press of a wedding either.

  I’m happy with things just like they are.

  “Ready?”

  I smile up at Kace, who is smelling good again, his hair still wet at the ends. I link my fingers through his. “Ready.”

  And I am. I’m ready for anything.

  Dinner is nice, and I’m starving so I eat it all. I’m going to be one of those pregnant women who gain seventy pounds, I know.

  “Want to take a walk?”

  I look out over the river and nod, linking my fingers through his. His palms are sweaty, but so are mine, even on this cool February evening.

  When we’re under the bridge, Kace surprises me by turning and pressing me against the column, his l
ips finding mine in a kiss so urgent and hungry, it steals the breath from my lungs.

  “Presley…” He presses his forehead to mine. “I love you, and I can’t wait anymore.”

  My heart begins to pound as he begins to sink to one knee. Then a camera flashes and someone screams,” It’s Kace Rymer,” and the moment is spoiled.

  I grin at him. “Let’s go home. Can you wait that long?”

  But I’m the one who grows impatient as I wait for him to sign autographs. At first he refused, but I urged him to not disappoint his fans. Now I wait, watching my man being the rock star his destiny intended.

  When he breaks free, it doesn’t take long for us to be back in his car and back to my apartment. Our apartment. I smile at the guitar sitting next to the couch.

  We’re barely in the door when he’s pulling me to him. “Presley, I…” He looks so nervous it makes me smile as I gaze into his beautiful blue eyes.

  I can’t let him worry another moment. “Yes.”

  He blows out a long breath and a smile explodes across his face. “Really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  “You didn’t even let me ask.”

  I laugh. “You didn’t have to. Your face said it all.”

  Digging into his pocket, he pulls out a ring. It’s not the other ring, and it surprises me. It delights me. It’s the most stunning thing I’ve ever seen.

  “I tossed the other ring in the river after you gave it back to me.”

  I gape at him. “You did?”

  “Yeah. I knew that, even if I was lucky enough to win you back, I would want everything between us to be fresh and new.”

  I think of the baby growing inside me as he slips the emerald cut diamond on my hand. He or she is about as fresh and new as anything can get.

  Kace leans down and kisses me, but I don’t deepen the kiss. I have a question of my own.

  “I wonder…”

  He grins and pulls me to him. “Yes?”

  Twisting away, I go to the table and pick up a little box of my own. “I wonder… how the great Kace Rymer feels about this.”

  His brow is furrowed as he unwraps the box. He blinks several times as he pulls the pregnancy test out. He looks at me. He looks down at the stick. He looks at me again. “We’re having a baby?”

  “Yes.”

  Tears fill his eyes, and he falls to his knees, pressing his face to my belly. “Close your eyes, little one. I’m about to do something to your mommy that you should never see.”

  And he does.

  Kace takes off my clothes like he’s unwrapping the most delicate of presents. Kissing each inch of flesh he exposes, I relish each touch, unable to believe this is happening for us.

  As Kace slips inside my body, connecting us in the most primal way possible, I gaze into his eyes as he begins to move. He’s so careful. Too careful, and I tighten my legs around his hips, and force him into me harder.

  “More. I need more. I promise I won’t break.”

  My ring winks at me as I hold his beautiful face in my hands. He slides in and out of me, harder and deeper with each stroke.

  “I love you,” he says as I begin to tighten around him, the overwhelming emotions I’m feeling making everything that much more glorious. My vision goes white and my entire body quivers as I tumble toward the edge of ecstasy.

  He follows, growling my name and declarations of his love as he spills into me. When he collapses on me, he pushes back up, a panicked look on his face. His, “Sorry, little guy,” makes me laugh.

  Later, as his finger traces a circle on my belly, I pull his face to mine.

  “I love you too, Kace. And I’ll prove it to you the rest of my life. Nothing will separate us again. I’ll never stop fighting for us. I promise.”

  And I won’t. I’ll believe him. I’ll trust him. And I’ll give him every reason to trust me as well.

  He pushes my hair back from my face. “I promise too.”

  THE END

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  A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

  Thank you for reading INTERVIEW WITH THE ROCK STAR. I hope you enjoyed it! If you did, may I ask you to please write a review HERE? Reviews are so important and can make or break a book. You hold the key to helping me reach my life-long dream of writing for a living!

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  And now, continue on for that promised Sneak Peek!

  A SNEAK PEEK

  LOVER WANTED

  Rylee Swann

  CHAPTER ONE

  Eviction.

  I yank the boldly written notice off my door just as old Mrs. Peterson shuffles down the hallway toward me. She avoids my gaze, but I can hear her mumbling something along the line of “irresponsible young safe space jackasses” and I guess, in her eyes, I fall into that category.

  I look closer at the letter. Thirty days to vacate the premises.

  I sigh. I guess she isn’t wrong.

  But dammit, she isn’t right either. I’ve tried so hard to keep up, working two jobs when I could just to make ends meet. I swipe at a tear as I stuff a key into the lock of my shabby apartment. Who gets fired from flipping burgers? Granted, I didn’t enjoy it—I’d always had a desk job—but it afforded me the privilege of living in the crap of luxury.

  Tossing the letter down on the flea market coffee table, I collapse on the sofa and stare at my six year old laptop, remembering what I heard the two college students giggling about earlier. They’d used words like Fun. Sexy. Totally legit. And the most important word… cash.

  What the hell.

  Feeling like I had a thousand pound weight on my shoulders, I shove myself into a sitting position and boot the laptop up. Opening a browser, I begin to type. Then… holy shit… an ad appears, just like the girls said it would.

  Question - For exhibitionists who possibly need some doe - m4w

  My hand hovers over the mouse before I take a deep breath and click. An even more bizarre message appears next:

  Can you fuck a fit white male while being watched for doe?

  If so, write for details and tell me if you are truly capable of doing this.

  I laugh at the typo, ready to move on to the next ad. Doe. I can’t help it. Julie Andrews singing Doe-Re-Mi pops into my head.

  Then it hits me. It isn’t a typo. This guy means dough as in money. He must have typed it the way he did because it’s against the rules or against the law or whatever to solicit for sex on Craig’s List. I don’t know. It’s not like I peruse the casual sex ads on any site every day. Or ever.

  I drop my face in my hands, glad no one is around to witness this moment of shame. Me… Kim Pond is looking for casual sex on Craig’s List. Hell, I didn’t even know there was such a thing until today. I guess that’s what people do these days when they’re horny, have no husband or even a boyfriend, and no money to prowl the bar scene.

  Straightening my shoulders, I take a deep breath and grab the guy’s alias to email him back. I’m totally anonymous. Surely it won’t hurt to just ask a question or two.

  I read your Craig’s List ad and have questions, but I think I could do this. Just give me a couple of glasses of wine. Tell me more?

  My finger hovers over the send key for a few seconds, then I just click it before I can change my mind. Email sent, and come what may. I’m ne
rvous. What the hell am I doing?

  I check my email to see if he’s replied in the thirty seconds I haven’t looked, then make a dash for the kitchen to see what I have chilling in the fridge. Ah, my salvation. A bottle of Chardonnay.

  Is it just the cheap bottles of wine these days that are screw tops? Or does wine not come corked anymore? I wouldn’t know; I don’t have the budget for the expensive stuff. Ah, who am I kidding? I don’t have the budget for the cheap stuff either, but you have to take some pleasure out of life no matter how small.

  I enjoy a good cold glass of wine and always have a wine goblet chilling in the freezer. I grab it and pour myself a generous amount. I take a sip, then another and then another.

  The fact is I’m tired of being broke. So very tired of it. Glass of rapidly draining wine in hand, I go to the TV to lose myself in some mind-numbing sitcom. I grab the remote before remembering that I canceled my cable service a few days ago. It was either that or cancel my internet and then how would I work? How would I look for jobs? How would I connect? So yeah, cable had to go. Bon voyage, I knew you well.

  Feeling even more depressed now, I make my way back to where my laptop beckons to me. Clicking refresh on my email, I take another gulp of the sour grapes… and almost choke. I cough and wipe tears from my eyes so I can read the reply from Mr. Doe Man.

  My name is Michael, and I’m a white, older, well educated, professional, but also have a kinky side to me. My post reflects what I’m into. Hopefully, you will be interested and want to explore this with me. Know that this is more than just about the money. You must truly love sex and must enjoy my company sexually. Vice versa, of course. I’m very unselfish in bed and find doing this incredibly hot and kinky with a female who shares my interests while making money too. Let me know if you’re still interested.

  My stomach twists as I finish reading the email and then read it again. With trembling fingers, I click reply and look to my glass of wine for some help. I’ve already finished it. When did I do that? I don’t wait to refill the glass. Pulling up my big girl panties, I place my cursor in the reply box and start to type.