Love Notes (Rocked by Love #1)

by Susan Scott Shelley

  When the band met at the middle of the parking lot, a few of the bikers came forward, looking ready to finish the fight. Zander drew her to the side farthest away. "I swear, if they take one step this way…"

  "God, I hope not."

  "Don't worry, I'll protect you."

  Thankfully, it didn't come to that. After tense moments, Dom stepped in between the groups and managed to talk the guys down.

  Relief eased some tension from her muscles but her head still hurt. She wasn't dizzy or nauseous, but laying down seemed like a very good idea.

  Dom had his arm around Irisa. Her friend clutched her wrist. "We're going to the hospital. You need an x-ray."

  "We'll meet you there." Zander rubbed Jayne's shoulder. "She hit her head pretty hard on the bar."

  During the drive, he kept touching her hand or her knee and asking if she was okay. After the fifth time she'd reassured him she was fine, he sighed a long expulsion of breath. "I'm sorry."

  "It wasn't your fault. You didn't bang into me."

  "You should've gone outside when the fight broke out."

  "I couldn't find Irisa, and then you guys all were fighting. I couldn't walk away."

  He nodded, eyes weary and mouth turned down. "I guess I can't argue with that. I couldn't walk out on Luke."

  She'd seen their bond. The way he and Luke could communicate almost intuitively. Even with the tension between them, their friendship obviously ran deep.

  Zander stayed with her in the ER while the doctor ran tests, keeping her company and keeping her calm until the nurse took him away to bandage the cuts on his face and hand.

  Finally, the doctor released her. She found Irisa, Dom, and Zander in the waiting room. "I'm cleared to go home."

  "What did they say?" Zander craned his neck to read the sheet. "Concussion aftercare?"

  "Just as a precaution. I don't exhibit signs of a concussion so they don't need to keep me overnight. The doctor told me to take it easy for the next twenty-four hours. It's good we don't have a show tomorrow night."

  His fingers gripped the paper. "This also says someone's supposed to wake you regularly throughout the night."

  She met his gaze. Would he volunteer? He opened his mouth but before he could speak, Irisa stood. "Jayne can stay with me tonight."

  "Are you sure you don't mind?" Her friend's bandaged wrist probably hurt like hell. Maybe she'd be able to help her, too. If nothing else, they could feel miserable together.

  "It's the least I can do."

  When they reached the parking lot, Zander pulled her behind a large mini-van while Dom fussed over making Irisa comfortable. "Call me if you need anything."

  She grasped his hand. "Will you be okay?"

  "Please, you think these little scratches will slow me down?"

  For the first time in hours, she smiled. "Of course not, Mr. Indestructible."

  He cupped her cheek and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Not entirely indestructible. I do have one weakness." He stroked the bandage covering her temple with his thumb.

  "What's that?"

  Zander caressed the underside of her chin with a rough finger. "You."

  The throbbing of her head was forgotten and so was the need to keep their relationship quiet. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed herself into his solid warmth. Watching him throw and receive punches in the fight, she'd realized she cared about him. More than was wise, and sooner than she'd ever fallen for anyone else. And that scared her.

  He took her hands from his waist, keeping them in his, as he took a step back. "I'll see you tomorrow."

  "Tomorrow." She had an entire night to think about whether ending their relationship early would be for the best.

  By the next morning, the fight was all over the internet and the label wasn't happy. Zander didn't give a shit about those things as much as the three guys nursing injuries in his practice room. They were supposed to be practicing, but instead of drumsticks, microphones, or guitars, they held ice packs, heating pads, and bottles of pain relievers.

  "Hell of a fight last night." Zander tossed fresh ice packs to Luke and Landry. They sat at opposite ends of the couch, with a snoring Shredder between them on the middle cushion.

  "Crazy bikers." Luke shook his head. The purple bruise around his eye looked painful. "Thanks for having my back."

  "We couldn't leave it eight-on-one." Landry smirked. His torn-up, swollen knuckles looked like he'd put his fist through glass. "You're good, but you're not that good."

  Brendan stretched out on an overstuffed chair with a heating pad over his left side. "What happened with Jayne and Irisa at the hospital? Are they okay?"

  Zander rubbed his hand over his face. Every time he thought about Jayne's head hitting the bar, he wanted to punch someone. "Irisa has a sprained wrist and Jayne was evaluated for a concussion, but they let her go home."

  He'd texted her that morning and she'd responded that she was okay. 'Okay' didn't tell him a whole lot.

  Footsteps echoed down the hall. He was expecting his housekeeper, but Irisa came through the door. "How's everyone feeling today?"

  "Fine." Zander shrugged. He wouldn't complain about his cuts, the sore wrist, or the large bruise on his thigh. He'd toughened out worse fights in the school yard.

  Brendan touched his ribs. "Got some bruises from last night, but nothing that'll keep me from drumming."

  Landry flexed his fingers. "I'm still icing, but should be fine by tomorrow night."

  Luke removed the ice pack he'd held to his eye. "Now that we've all determined everyone's fine, what's the word from Excite? Did you have to assure them that their investment was fine?"

  "Oliver did ask about your condition, and yes, they'd like you guys to refrain from making poor decisions."

  Zander cracked a smile. "Really? That's what Oliver said?"

  Replacing the pack, Luke laid his head on the back of the couch. "I can't believe Excite keeps that whiny ass-kisser around."

  Irisa surveyed them with a sympathetic smile. "Take the day off, no practice, just rest. Keep icing things. I'll see you tomorrow."

  "You're heading out? I'll walk you." Zander followed her from the room. When they reached his kitchen, he stopped her. "How's Jayne?"

  "She's okay. Nothing odd. She's back at her place now. I told her to rest all day, and to skip tomorrow's show if she needs to."

  "I couldn't get to her in time." He finally said it out loud.

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Last night, at the bar. The fight started and some guy slammed into her. I saw her going headfirst into the bar and it was like everything was suddenly in slow motion. If I'd been five seconds faster, it wouldn't have happened."

  She pressed her lips together and studied him for a moment. "Is something going on between you two?"

  Hell, he wasn't going to lie. "Something." He shrugged and tugged his hand through his hair. "I don't know what to call it. She's different from the other women I've dated."

  "Just be careful."

  Shit. Jayne didn't want anyone to know yet. "Don't say anything to her, okay? It's too new. No one knows. I don't want to upset her. Or scare her off."

  "I promise." She patted his shoulder, then glanced at her phone. She typed something and then smiled. "I have to go. Maybe you should call Jayne."

  As soon as the band left, he loaded Shredder into the car. Forget a phone call—they were making a house call.

  One of her neighbors held open the security door for him. When he reached her apartment door, he crouched beside Shredder. "No loud barks, okay? She might need quiet."

  A grumble responded. Satisfied, he knocked.

  Jayne opened the door. She wore a bright pink t-shirt and soft gray yoga pants. Her hair flowed around her shoulders. Her smile brightened his mood. "Hi."

  "We thought you might need some company." He waited while she slowly bent to greet the dog. Then, he handed her the bouquet of yellow and pink flowers he'd bought on the way.

&n
bsp; "They're beautiful. Thank you." She sniffed the blooms. "I'll grab a vase from the kitchen."

  He followed her through the living room. A white couch in the center was balanced by a piano on one side of the room and a desk on the other. Shredder padded beside him.

  Jayne came back and placed the flowers on her desk. She moved a little slower than normal. "You can let him off his leash."

  He did, and Shredder ambled to a patch of sunlight under a picture window. Zander crossed to her. His hands framed her face and he brushed the white bandage on her temple. Then he lowered his head and gently touched his lips to hers. "How are you feeling?"

  "I'm a little sore and my heads hurts a bit, but no other issues. I'm fine, really."

  "I'm not."

  Immediately, her hands lifted to his chest. "Where are you hurt?"

  He shook his head. "You scared me. I keep replaying your head hitting the bar. I'm sorry I couldn't get to you in time."

  "Like I told you last night, it's not your fault. Besides, you were busy helping Luke. How are the guys?"

  "Banged up, but nothing serious."

  "And you. Are you really okay?" Her hand skimmed the scratch on his cheek.

  "You could kiss it better."

  She smiled and rose on her toes. Her lips touched his cheek. Then she kissed the cut on his hand. "Anywhere else?"

  "I can think of a few other places that are aching."

  Instead of the flirty retort he'd been expecting, her smile faded and she moved her hands to her sides. "We need to talk."

  "What's wrong?"

  "I was scared watching you squaring off against those bikers." She paced to the couch and turned. "Maybe this is moving a little to fast."

  "What is?"

  "Us."

  "Too fast? I've been on a slow burn for weeks." He followed her over. "Is this about the fighting? The band really doesn't get into scrapes. I'm not a guy who goes out looking for fights."

  "It's not that. I'm glad you stood up for your friend." Her fingers twisted her necklace pendant back and forth in her hand. "It made me see that I, well, I care about you."

  "Oh." Something between satisfaction, anticipation, and relief swelled within him.

  "And that wasn't part of the deal, so—"

  "Hold up there." He captured her hand in his. "We never said 'no caring about the other person.' All we said was that we'd be involved during the tour. I cared about you before I suggested our arrangement."

  "You did?" Wide blue eyes met his gaze. "You do?"

  "I wouldn't get involved with someone I didn't care about."

  "Oh." Echoing his earlier statement, she regarded him with a serious gaze. A faint blush colored her cheeks and a slight frown marred her forehead. "But we promised each other at the start that no one would get hurt. Caring means getting hurt."

  That line right there told him all he needed to know. "Caring also means doing your damn best to make sure the other person doesn't get hurt."

  Eyes wide, head tilted back to hold his gaze, she looked so vulnerable. "Zander."

  She was thinking too much and he was tired of thinking. He needed to hold her. "Trust me. I won't hurt you."

  After a long moment, Jayne laid her hand on his chest, over his heart. "All right."

  Relief eased his muscles and he drew her into his arms. "Now, back to those aches…"

  "Yeah?" With a blood-stirring smile, she slid her hand to his stomach, and then to his waistband. "Am I getting warmer?"

  He sucked in a breath and held back a groan and then closed his hand over hers. Tempted to drag it lower, he moved it to his chest. "Today's about you. And I can tell you're sore, so we're taking it easy. What can I do? Rub your shoulders? Make you tea? I'm not much good at kitchen things."

  "The shoulder rub would be nice. I hit my back in the fall too." She pointed to a low spot by her hip.

  He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his fingers into the spot. Rubbing in small circles, he tried not to get distracted by the indent of her waist and how it flowed into the curve of her hip. He averted his gaze the sofa table behind her where she'd placed several framed photos of a Yorkshire Terrier. "Is that Pepper?"

  "Yep. I know, I took a lot of photos, but she was so cute."

  He leaned closer to examine them. In nearly every one, the dog wore a colorful top. "She let you dress her up?"

  "She loved sweaters. I'm guessing from your tone that you either don't or can't do that with Shredder."

  "I'm lucky he doesn't try to remove his collar." He moved his hands to her shoulders. No photos of people who could be her parents, but there were two of Irisa and Jayne, and a few of Jayne with volunteers from the animal shelter and the community center.

  She laid her head on his shoulder. "This feels so good. Thank you."

  His fingers skimmed up her back to massage her neck. "Tomorrow kicks off two weeks on the road so if you're not feeling up to it tomorrow night, you can rest at the hotel instead of coming to the show. Longer trips can be tough."

  "I'll be fine. I don't want to leave more work for Irisa. She has enough to deal with." The way she spoke hinted that she knew more about his sister than she'd always let on.

  "Last night in the ER while you were still getting checked out, she admitted she's been popping antacids a lot to deal with stress."

  "She's been taking them for months. I've asked her about them before."

  He lowered his hands before his frustration could tighten his hold. "You knew. Torres knew. I see her all the time and had no idea."

  "You can't know everything. Considering how protective she is of you and the band, she probably hid it so you didn't worry." Jayne brushed her hand through his hair. Gentle and soothing, and exactly what he needed.

  He slid his arms around her waist. "I'm supposed to be making you feel better, not the other way around."

  "You are making me feel better. You brought me flowers and a dog." She traced her fingers over the faded logo on his chest. "Can you stay for a while?"

  "For as long as you want." He could see himself staying with her for years, but he'd make the most of the time they had together because when the tour was over, it would have to end.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Five days into the road trip, Jayne finally felt like her old self. The cut on her head had mostly healed and the swelling was gone. Zander had been right about things being tough, but her problem had been the tension that ebbed and flowed between the guys—and Luke and his increasing list of "forgotten items".

  The radio station hummed with excitement. She watched the contest winners file in for the band's on-air five song set. She checked the food table and confirmed all of the band's requests were laid out in front of her.

  "I have a surprise for you." Zander's voice caressed the back of her neck and she shivered.

  He'd been extra-excited all day. She'd known something was up. "What is it?"

  "We're performing my new song. It'll be the first time anyone outside the band has heard it."

  "I can't wait." Although she knew the melody by heart, he'd kept the lyrics a secret.

  In his reaching for a water bottle, he trailed his fingers over her hand. "You know, you were the inspiration for it."

  "I was?" She smiled shyly and fought the heat of a blush. Her? Inspiration? For that beautiful piece? Warmth spread through her chest and she placed her hand on his arm—not caring if anyone could see them. "Now I really can't wait to hear it."

  "You'll be waiting a little longer. It's the last song in the set."

  She smiled. "I know it'll be worth it."

  He waved to a few of the fans. "We're supposed to start soon. I'll see you later."

  She was still smiling after he walked away.

  Luke approached in his usual attire, wearing dark jeans, a dark shirt, and a scowl. "I left my scarf at the hotel. You'll have to pick it up."

  No, no, no. She couldn't risk missing Zander's song. "The temperature feels fine in here. You won't need it."
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  His gaze hardened. "A fan made it for me. She's here and I told her I'd wear it."

  "Can't you just tell her you forgot it?"

  "No. She went to a lot of trouble. We never disappoint our fans." He pointed out a pretty woman, fairly young, wearing an animal rescue center's sweatshirt. "You're the tour manager. It's your job to do things like this."

  Her gaze flicked to Irisa. Her friend had been barking out orders and finding fault with everything since they'd arrived on Saturday. Out of character for her patient friend, obviously something had happened between her and Dom. But she refused to talk about it and cringed at the mention of his name. If Jayne refused, Luke might ask Irisa, and she couldn't bear to see him push her friend into snapping.

  "Fine. I'll go." If she hurried, she might make it back in time to hear Zander perform.

  He handed over his keycard. "It's a black and green crocheted scarf. I think it's on the desk."

  "All right."

  She called for a cab, but the late afternoon rush hour had begun. Walking the eight blocks to the hotel would take twenty minutes and was faster than waiting for the cab to arrive. She half-walked, half-jogged to the hotel, and arrived puffing air and sweating, then jogged to his room. No scarf on the desk. No scarf on the bed or the floor. She peeked in the closet and the open suitcase. No luck.

  Huffing out a sigh, she sent him a text. It's not anywhere that I can see.

  His reply came a minute later. Never mind. Found it here. Going on air now.

  Anger bubbled over. She was going to kill him.

  After a quick stop in her room to change her sweat-soaked shirt for a dry one, she sprinted down the hall and two flights of stairs to the lobby. A cab pulled up to the curb. Maybe her luck was turning. She hopped in and rattled off the station's address.

  Frustration built as the minutes ticked by and traffic crawled along. She abandoned the cab with four blocks to go and jogged the rest of the way.

  She dashed inside the station's lobby, but several people wearing Fury t-shirts were leaving.

  No. She couldn't be too late.