MY ROCK #3
THE ROCK STAR ROMANCE SERIES
By Alycia Taylor
Copyright 2014. All rights reserved.
Get Future New Releases In This Series For 99 Cents
Read My Rock #1 By Clicking Here
Read My Rock #2 By Clicking Here
Read My Rock #4 By Clicking Here
Click Here to Like My Facebook Page
Get An Email When My Next Book Comes Out By Clicking Here
CHAPTER ONE
ELLY
Molly and I were setting up for round five. As we were stringing electrical cords across the room to plug in the sound systems, she was gushing about her new boyfriend. He was fairly new, anyways; they’d been seeing each other for about three months, but it had only recently begun to turn serious. He was a guy named Rob who, of course, sounded like a saint. Why was it that when I was having the worst time with a man, everyone around me chose to be so happy? It was annoying. I didn’t begrudge Molly her happiness. I really liked her and it was good to see her so happy. I hoped that it stayed that way and she had truly found her Mr. Right. I just wondered why I couldn’t be lucky enough to meet a nice guy and actually be attracted to him. Perhaps I was just a glutton for punishment. Back in my high school days, my mother used to tell me that the reason I was attracted to the bad boys was because I had a drive or a need to fix them. She also tried to tell me that everyone couldn’t be fixed, and that some people didn’t want to be. I probably should have listened to her more back then.
“What does he do?” I asked Molly about the new boyfriend.
“He’s a cameraman for an independent film crew. They make YouTube videos, mostly, but their movies are getting literally millions of hits. It started out as an unpaid internship. He just graduated from UC San Diego in June, though and they hired him right away. I met his boss last week. He alluded to the fact that he might have a position for me when I finish this internship.”
“Wow! That’s great,” I told her. “Dan sounds ambitious, and kudos to you, too!”
“He is, and thank you. I‘m so happy about his drive to succeed. I’m not worried about whether or not a guy I’m seeing makes a ton of money, but the last guy I hooked up with couldn’t even keep a job. He’s nearly thirty now; the last time I saw him, he was still sponging off his parents. He was a jerk, too. Not Dan, though. He’s sweet and smart and sexy and funny and drop-dead gorgeous!”
I laughed, “I think somebody is in love.”
“Not quite yet,” she said. “But I’m headed fast in that direction. Speaking of in love, what about you and Tristan? How’s that going?”
I curled my lip and said, “That’s far from love, trust me. Not even in the same ballpark,” she laughed.
“That bad, huh? Is it because of the show?”
“No….I mean, I’m always conscious that seeing him is a problem because of that. But that’s not the real issue. I’d more or less decided that I’d be okay with seeing him on the down low, which I was doing. I was at his house the night of the party…and we were….”
“Naked and nasty?” Molly said with a laugh.
“Shut up! No!” I could feel my face turning red, possibly because I was lying. She actually had it right. “We were kissing, I happened to glance down and there was a crack pipe and a bong on the floor, mixed in with a pile of laundry he’d swept off the couch.”
“Ew, a crack pipe? That’s a little….ew…” I was glad she understood.
“Yeah, I know. I may have not been so upset about the marijuana, but crack is a whole different ballgame. I’m pretty sure that’s it for us. I have history with an addict boyfriend and I’ve had some problems myself….I’m not up for doing that again.”
“What did Tristan say about it? Did he try to say it was ‘a friend’s’ or something? Or did he admit to it?”
I was embarrassed again. “I didn’t even ask him about it…I just left.”
“Wow, you just literally walked out?”
I didn’t think telling her that I had to stop and put my clothes on was important. I just said, “Yeah, I just wanted out.”
“Did he come after you, or at least call you and find out what was going on?”
“He chased me out into the hall. He was….okay, fine, we were naked,” I said, mortified yet again. Molly laughed; I could always count on her for that.
“I’m sorry. It’s not funny…okay, it’s a little funny. I’m assuming you were dressed? I just have a hard time imagining you being okay with running home naked.” She could not suppress her giggles.
“Yes, Molly, I was dressed,” I said, rolling my eyes. “But I got dressed fast and he was a little surprised. I should have talked to him, I know. I just suddenly felt like history was repeating itself and I couldn’t breathe…I could hear him calling after me and I even heard him tell one of his neighbors to mind their own fucking business. As usual with me and Tristan, it was a lovely evening.”
Molly was busting up laughing now. With my eyebrow raised and my arms folded I waited for her to calm down. She apologized again as she wiped the tears from her eyes, “I’m sorry…I’m just thinking what fun it must be to live in that building.”
I rolled my eyes and said, “It’s not all that, trust me.” I was lying. The sight of him fully clothed set my soul on fire. Molly acted like she didn’t hear that anyways.
She went on to say, “I heard a lot back when he was famous about rehab and all that. I mean, I didn’t really hear it, but I read a lot of those teenage rags they sell at the supermarket. Who knows how much of it is true. I did always wonder, especially in a case like his where he’s so talented, what makes someone think the drugs are more important than everyone and everything else in their life. You kind of wonder what the trigger is for some people, you know?”
“I do know, from experience.” I didn’t talk about my past much, but I trusted Molly. “My first really serious boyfriend died a couple of years ago. I was devastated. I started doing a lot of coke, getting so wound up that I’d have to take pills or smoke a lot of marijuana to come down. I was a mess. The trigger for me was his death…but the drugs quickly took control. Then the coroner’s report came back and I found out that he’d overdosed on meth; I realized then that I was hurt, but if I lived, I’d get over it. I didn’t want to die, so I told my parents what was going on; they helped me find a rehab facility. Thank god for their support. It was a good place and I learned a lot. I wonder sometimes how someone like Tristan could have gone to facilities like that so many times and still choose to use.”
Molly put her arm around my shoulder and gave me a quick squeeze. “Wow, I’m sorry for your loss, Molly. That had to be tough. Good for you though, cleaning up your act—you’ve got a lot to be proud of. As far as Tristan goes, maybe whatever was driving him to use was still a problem when he got out of rehab. It’s about forgetting things and being numb right? It’s easy to not use when you don’t have to deal with the situation, but if you put someone right back into it, well, you know. You used because you didn’t want to feel the pain your boyfriend’s overdose caused you. You were able to find a way to cope with that and you moved on. He has to have something in his past, or even something that’s still going on now, that still hurts him, don’t you think?”
“Maybe,” I said. “I guess it’s easy to look in from the outside and think someone has everything and shouldn’t have a worry in the world yet have no idea what they’re really going through. I try really hard not to judge people, but sometimes it’s easy to forget that.”
“I also read stories about his parents mismanaging his money and giving him pills. If
that’s all true, it’s really sad. It sounds like he didn’t have any kind of support system growing up. You sound like you have great parents. My family is pretty good, too. Tristan’s family doesn’t sound so put together. That is, if what you read in the gossip columns are true.” Molly shrugged her shoulders. She had some good points.
“Yeah, it is sad.” I suddenly felt like a terrible person. I had judged him based on some paraphernalia I saw on the floor of his apartment. I should have stopped and talked to him. I should have given him a chance to talk to me. I had run away from a guy who, more than likely, really needed a friend. Molly had made some really good points. Maybe if he had some support, he wouldn’t be so messed up. Maybe I was too worried about myself and what I’d gone through to be a good friend—or any kind of friend at all. I needed to rethink walking away from him. I suddenly wondered how I would feel if I read about his overdose in the paper someday and I hadn’t even offered him a friendly ear to talk to.
CHAPTER TWO
TRISTAN
It was the night of round five. I was filled with nervous energy and having a hard time sitting still. The traffic in the waiting room was getting thinner and I was glad there were fewer talentless idiots to deal with. I felt like I was ready for it. I’d written my own song and the band had done a great job of playing the music I’d written and helping me tweak a few parts so it all pulled together more smoothly. I wished that it was all I had on my mind. I couldn’t stop thinking about Elly and what had happened the last time I saw her.
She had looked at me when I walked in. I think she expected me to say something to her about the other night. I had plenty to say that night if she’d come back, but it was a moot point by then. I could admit that I got a little freaked out when she just left like that. I even went back out into the hallway one more time, hoping she came back. I saw the elevator sliding closed and I thought it was her so I yelled out her name a few times. That attracted the attention of my nosy ass neighbors. Mrs. Stromboli had already gotten a sweet show and the rest of them wanted some of it now. I was still butt ass naked, but I didn’t give a fuck. The people that lived in that building were nothing but trash anyways. I turned to walk back into my apartment and I saw the man who lived in the apartment next door to me glaring at me through a crack in his door. I kicked the door before I went back inside and told him to “Mind his own fucking business.” I didn’t give a fuck if they liked me or not; at least three times a week I had to listen to him and his old lady fighting or the chick across the hall having multiple, loud orgasms…while her husband was at work. Fuck ‘em all.
I’d stormed back into my apartment and closed the door, wondering why it bothered me so badly that Elly had walked out. It was true that she was the best piece of ass I’d ever had, but I needed to remind myself that she was most definitely not the only one. Hot chicks who liked to fuck were pretty much a dime a dozen, and sitting in the waiting room backstage, I thought I’d just found another one.
This girl was twenty-two; she had blonde hair that hung down to her waist, a nice round ass, and massive tits. I remember seeing her the first day of try-outs and thinking I wouldn’t mind tapping that ass while I had my hands wrapped up in that silky mane of hers. I hadn’t done anything about it yet because I’d been focused on the contest and busy fucking Elly every chance I got.
That’s where I had gone wrong. I knew that when you started fucking one girl all the time she started thinking that she was your girlfriend and making subtle changes in your life. It all starts messing with your head. There’s only one head I wanted in my ‘relationships’ and that’s the one in my pants.
“Hey there, beautiful,” I said, taking the seat next to the blonde. If I remembered correctly, her name was Brooke or something like that. “How are you doing tonight?”
She giggled. Giggling really annoyed me, but for a C cup or better, I was willing to endure a little of it—as long as she ended up putting out. I usually got a certain vibe from a girl who might be willing. This one was putting that out all over the place.
“Hi,” she said, flashing her dimples. “I’m a nervous wreck about today,” she said with another giggle, “What about you? How are you doing?”
I gave her my coolest look and said, “Nah, I got this.” Then I raked my eyes across her body and said, “I’m sure you got it too.”
“You think so?”
“Sure, baby, you’ve got a gorgeous voice. It’s hot—like the rest of you.”
Another round of giggling ensued. I honestly had no idea what her voice sounded like. I did my best to tune the rest of them out; if you started worrying about the competition, it just fucked with your head.
“I like your voice, too,” she said. “Everybody does. My older sister told me she used to be in love with you when she was in middle school.”
I gave her the once over again and said, “If your big sister looks anything like you, then I hope she’s still in love with me.”
She blushed a little, but then she said, “She’s pretty, but kind of old. She turned thirty last week.”
“I’ve always liked the little sisters best, anyways,” I told her. As we talked more, she put out all of the signs that said she was ready, willing, and able to fuck. She flipped her hair over her shoulder and made a point to sit up straighter so her tits pointed up at me. She got up at one point to get something to drink and she had a little extra wiggle in her hips.
As I watched her delicious ass walk across the room, I caught Elly’s eye. She was watching me watch Brooke, and she didn’t look happy about it. Good. Let her fucking sweat. It’s the least she deserves for walking out on me in the middle of a fucking blow job. Who does that? There was no way she was going to leave me with blue balls and get another chance. It’s true what they say about there being plenty of fish in the sea, and I had got the perfect bait.
When Brooke came back, I turned my body towards hers as we talked so that my back was to Elly. I wanted to make a point to her that I didn’t care if she was watching me or not. I did what I wanted to do, and no woman was going to tell me different.
“So, Brooke…you have a boyfriend?”
“No, no boyfriend,” she said, leaning into me.
I tried to look as sincere as possible as I said, “That’s hard to imagine. There’s something wrong with a world where girls who look like you are single. You have to be single by choice. Most guys probably just don’t measure up.”
She batted her long eyelashes at me and said, “That’s sweet. You’re pretty nice to look at yourself. I like being single, I like to be able to do what I want.” Score! “Do you have a girlfriend?”
I could see Elly out of the corner of my eye all of a sudden. She’d stepped over to the refreshment table. She was pretending to get something to drink, but I knew she was just trying to see what was going on with Brooke and me. Her obvious jealousy was really pathetic. I reached up and slid my finger slowly down the curve of Brooke’s cheek and whispered, “Thanks. I don’t have a girlfriend. I like to do who—I mean what—I want too.” I grinned.
She blushed then and licked her lips. I really thought they were just dry, but it was sexy. She had nice, full lips. That night at the bar, it had been what I’d noticed first about Elly. I was picturing Elly’s lips suddenly…remembering the way she tasted….
“What are you thinking?” she asked. I realized that I’d phased out. It was unlike me to think about another woman when I had a prime one on the hook.
“I was just thinking about how lucky I was to be sitting here talking to you. I think you’re hot and you said I’m not so bad looking either. You look good, I look good, I was just thinking about how good we’d look together.” I traced a line down her cheek again with my finger. She leaned into it. Oh yea, she wanted me….bad. I could still see Elly looking. I don’t think she could hear what we were saying, but I’m sure she got the basic idea that we were working on hooking up.
A few minutes later, Elly’s little partner called tho
se of us left in the room to line up. We got in our places and, to my eyes delight, Brooke’s sweet ass was right in front of me. As Elly walked up, I made sure to give it another appreciative glance.
I waited until she was standing right next to us and I said to Brooke, “So, are we going to hook up and hang out sometime outside of this place? Somewhere more private, where we can really get to know each other.”
She flipped her blonde head around to look me in the eye and she said, “I’d like that.”
“Gimme your phone,” I told her. She handed it to me; I looked at Elly and gave her a little half smile before putting my number in Brooke’s phone. She turned her head and walked away, but not before I made sure that she heard me say, “Call me anytime you’re up for some fun. I’ll show you how friendly our city can be.”
If looks could kill, Elly would have set me on fire with the one she gave me.
CHAPTER THREE
ELLY
Tristan was being an ass; not sure why that surprised me. He seemed to purposely look right at me while he was hitting on that Brooke girl. I turned my head as quickly as I could, but I think he probably saw the look on my face when I heard him tell her they’d ‘have some fun’; it wasn’t a pleasant look. I had long ago discovered that I’d been cursed with a face that belied my every thought.
I was supposed to be working the front of the line, sending them out on stage when it was their turn. I took my place and as I stood there, I watched Molly rearrange the line according to her list. She had Tristan go in front of Brooke. He must be performing first. That was good; at least I wouldn’t have to watch him stare at her butt. He wasn’t the least bit subtle about it. Of course I wonder if he was trying not to be. I’m sure he was pretty pissed off at me for walking out the way I did, before he’d had a chance to get any relief. That night, I’d honestly not even considered it.
My Rock #3 (The Rock Star Romance Series - Book #3) Page 1
