Rockstar Daddy (Wilder Rock #1)

by Taryn Quinn

  That was the week before Maggie visited, when I’d been horny as fuck and full of aggression I’d poured into the song. Anticipation too. I’d been raring to go in a million ways where Maggie was concerned.

  Now? I was operating on a flatline. Just doing the bare minimum to get through each day.

  I tried to lose myself in the music—the pounding drums, the shrieking guitars, and Jake’s steady, rhythmic bass. Myles came into the song with a slam of the keys, rising off his bench the way he often did during shows. That they were all so into the song helped me to dig down deep and find the growl that was my signature. I cupped the microphone and bowed my head, rumbling the words that were etched into my brain from brutal repetition. I’d probably dream about “I Can’t Sleep” tonight.

  You break me apart, rip me to shreds

  Ask me if it’s forever

  Only to do it again

  One night with you has me on the edge

  I can’t sleep

  Oh, I can’t sleep

  One hour away and I’m ready to beg

  Tell you to come back

  Before I ask you to go

  Our last night together

  And I can’t sleep

  I can’t eat

  One more night, give it to me

  Before I learn

  Before you learn

  Before we learn

  What goodbye really means

  At the bridge, Cooper and AJ went into their epic solos, both competing to prove who could climb up and down the frets faster. Cooper went to his knees, throwing his head back so his long dark hair skimmed the floor. AJ was just as crazed beside him, his fingers flying as he added some unmistakable flourishes of his own. Bryan hit the skins behind us, and Jake closed his eyes while he went into his own trance on the bass. He didn’t go for the tricks that AJ and Cooper did, just provided a backbone for the song so they had space for their theatrics. Myles was still jamming on the keys, hitting them with the skill and sly grin that had made me so sure he’d be the perfect fit for the band. For him, nothing mattered as much as the music.

  That had been me too. Nothing had ever come close…until now.

  I came back into the song with a low vibrato that grew into a roar. I yanked the microphone stand to the side, nearly dragging it down to the floor as I worked for those last notes. Pulling them out of me as if each one was formed from my blood, sweat, and tears.

  And my memories, because I sure as fuck understood not being able to sleep. Or eat. Or do anything but wonder where the hell I’d gone so goddamn wrong.

  The song ended with the vibration of the amps as Cooper brought the strings down from scream to mournful cry. I jerked my head up as someone started to clap.

  “Finally. That’s what I’ve been waiting to see in these rehearsals.” Lila Crandall walked forward, her long blond hair restrained in a clip, her blue eyes shrewd and assessing. Her pumps clicked on the floor with every step she took toward us, her gaze sweeping over each member of the band in turn. “If I see more of that, you’ll be booking outside of California soon. Possibly even beyond the west coast.”

  A cheer went up from the other guys. Bryan stomped his feet, and I rolled my eyes. Right. He was excited to sample other varieties of pussy. Midwest pussy, East coast pussy, and definitely couldn’t forget Southern pussy, which AJ claimed was the sweetest of all.

  “It’s a little early to cheer, but you’re getting there. The recent press you’ve received from some of your, ahem, exploits hasn’t hurt either.” Lila held her ubiquitous iPad against her chest. “Donovan is ready to capitalize.”

  “First we gotta get the EP out. Ride FFY for a while longer—” Jake said, always the pragmatic one.

  “FFY is on its last gasp. We’re barely hanging on to top 50. Time to get ‘Felicity’ out there so you can keep the momentum going. Hopefully ‘I Can’t Sleep’ will be a single too. With some of the summer festivals already getting close to capacity, having that in your arsenal would be a big shot in the arm. Donovan may even recommend pushing ICS out first. It’s a more natural fit for the summer concert season at the venues we have in mind.”

  “Hell yeah.” Cooper pumped his fist, going quiet as he realized Myles was giving him some serious side-eye. “But of course, ‘Felicity’ would make a great single too.”

  “As a filler between this EP and a full-length album, yes. We always planned on Wilder Mind bringing a more harder edge to the market, and ICS delivers on that promise. So we’ll see.” Lila shifted her laser-like focus to me. “You’ve been drinking that tea and honey I recommended?”

  I gripped the mic and cleared my throat. Her stare only got sharper. Even clearing the throat could be rough on the vocal cords, and that I was doing it so much meant I hadn’t been taking care of my voice the way I should have been. “Not as consistently as I should.”

  “Get the honey drops too. You sounded amazing, but your voice was fraying at the end. It shouldn’t be. We want you to work with a coach.”

  “What?” I gazed at her, dumbfounded. “Since when? You said you liked that my voice was raw. That the imperfections made it unique.”

  “This isn’t about imperfections. It’s about treating your instrument with care, and you are not.” She gave the others a dismissive glance. “Great set today, everyone. You’re all free to go. Except Kellan,” she added, making me tip my head back with a groan.

  Myles gave me a sympathetic glance as he filed out, and Coop patted me on the back. Jake and AJ both called out goodbyes.

  Bryan was already on his phone, probably to some chick he’d picked up outside the record studio. We were starting to have clusters of fans show up now and then due to our openness on social media—something that had worked well for Lila’s other bands—and Bry wasn’t wasting any opportunities to get laid.

  I sprawled on the couch, sagging back until the cool leather cushioned my aching head and neck. The lack of sleep was getting to me. I hadn’t been working out either and not having that outlet didn’t help.

  As far as sex, I wasn’t going there. I’d been on an abstinence streak before she who would not be named had entered my life. I could deal.

  Lila sat at the other end of the couch. “What’s going on with you?”

  I crossed one booted foot across the other leg. “I didn’t realize you cared.”

  “I do, and you know better than that. Is something going on with the band?”

  “No, Lila. Your investment in us isn’t in danger.”

  “It is if you don’t start taking your vocal care more seriously. You sounded crispy today.”

  “Fuck that. I nailed that song.”

  “Which would be wonderful if you were performing at a school chorale concert and didn’t have to do a ninety-minute set.”

  Even as Lila spoke, I was thinking about Maggie. The way she touched me so gently and intently listened to everything I said. I knew if she had been here for the meeting, she’d be riding my ass about making sure I protected my voice.

  If she even still cared about me. I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t. I’d pretty much ground her feelings to dust with my cruelty, and I didn’t even know if she had any in my direction. At least beyond what I knew instinctively when we were together, which made no sense.

  None of this made sense, including the fact that I’d been like a dead man walking since she left my place with her best friend and her brother. She hadn’t cried in my presence, but her disappointment had rung out loud and clear. That I deserved it didn’t make it any easier to take.

  “You’re right,” I said hollowly. “I need to be more careful. Got it.”

  “You think it won’t have consequences. I’ve seen what happens to a guy with a blown out vocal cord. It isn’t pretty. We’re talking likely surgery and months of—”

  “I said I got it, all right?” I snapped. “I’m not your usual strung out junkie lead singer. I’m fully lucid and well aware of what you’re saying. Your concern is duly noted. And unnece
ssary.”

  “It’s not unnecessary until you show me I don’t need to be concerned any longer.” She crossed her legs and gripped her iPad in her lap. “We’re friends, are we not? Come from common stock and all that.”

  It made my lips twitch. “Common Turnbull stock, you mean?”

  “Yes.”

  “You think that makes a difference?”

  “You’d be surprised. I’ve found there’s a different sensibility out here.” She shifted toward me on the sofa. “Just putting it out there that if you wanted to talk, I could listen. Or pretend to ignore you. Whatever makes it easier to spill your guts.”

  “I’m good.” I heaved out a breath and stared up at the ceiling. “I’m not, but I can’t talk about it. Not work-related though, I promise.”

  Lila nodded and stood. “I understand. If that changes, let me know.” She walked to the door and paused with her hand on the handle. “Maybe there’s someone else you should talk to instead.”

  “Playing shrink, Lila?”

  “No. Taking guesses as a friend. By the way, you won’t piss me off with your patented routine. You forget I am married to the poster child for bad attitudes and not only dealt with him but married him. Mostly voluntarily.”

  “Does he cheat on you?”

  I hadn’t meant to ask the question, but Lila didn’t miss a beat. “If he did, he’d be missing some vital equipment and I’d be halfway to Mexico.”

  Shaking my head, I chuckled. “Sorry. Inappropriate question.”

  “A little, so I’ll give another inappropriate answer. No. If I truly believed he would, I wouldn’t have fallen in love with him. Granted, my judgment has been skewed before, but I’m confident in my choice this time.”

  “Even though he’s in a rock band and has access to—”

  “Every flavor of pussy he could ever dream of and twice on Sunday. Yes. I’m well aware.”

  She didn’t blink, but I sure did. Lila was not one for that sort of language, ever.

  “Yet you’re cool with it. Not worried he’ll slip.”

  “He’s an adult male, not a confused toddler. Sliding between a woman’s thighs is not the same as sliding in some juice on the kitchen floor. No, I don’t believe he’ll slip, just as he doesn’t believe I will.”

  “Profession aside.”

  “I’m around plenty of supposed temptation too. If rockstars are so hot, well, hello, rainbow of varieties to choose from. But I don’t go there.” She held up her hand, tapping her wedding ring.

  “But what if the situation was different? What if you were, let’s say, a stay-at-home mom. Or a lawyer,” I said, remembering Maggie’s biggest ambition. “Surrounded by lawyers instead of rockstars day in and day out. Would you still feel the same?”

  “It doesn’t matter who either of us is surrounded by. It comes down to who we are and what we value. I could be in a crowd of David Gandys and still not be tempted because I want that jerk, and he’s mine. And vice versa.” She frowned. “All right, so there would be a little temptation. Infinitesimal. But I wouldn’t act on it, no matter what.”

  I laughed and locked my hands behind my neck. “Thanks for answering my strange questions and being cool about it.”

  “Who is she?”

  I started to say no one. There wasn’t a she. From the status of my head right now, that was more than obvious. I’d had Maggie—at least in the flesh—and I’d lost her. Big time. But she didn’t have to be physically present to be a factor in my life. “She’s from Turnbull.”

  “Good choice. Now I have to know who. I might be able to share juicy gossip about her if you give me a name. You know my parents talk to everyone who comes through Happy Acres.”

  Happy Acres was her parents’ apple orchard, and yes, she was one hundred percent correct. They talked to everyone and knew everything that went on in Turnbull. “Maggie Kelly.” I held up a finger. “If you so much as breathe a word to anyone—”

  “Maggie? She’s the sweetest. She used to paint faces on kids during the fall festival. I taught her myself. Passed on the baton, as it were.” Lila cocked her head. “How did you meet? Did you two have one of those clandestine romances from childhood? Though you’d be robbing the cradle a bit there.” She tapped her chin. “Hmm.”

  “Only about five years between us. Not even that. But it feels like light years, man.” I scratched the back of my neck. “She crashed into my ditch on New Year’s Eve.”

  “Now that sounds romantic.”

  Quickly, I told her what had happened. I left out the details, but I didn’t skimp on my own assholedom. I had royally fucked up this whole situation, and I wouldn’t shirk the responsibility for it, even while talking to a friend. Who just happened to be my manager.

  She didn’t say anything, just listened. When I finished, she tapped her nails on her iPad. “So you told her you lied to let her down easy?”

  I frowned. “There wasn’t a lot of easy involved. Mainly just to make a clean break. I knew it was best for her.”

  “What’s best for you?”

  I didn’t answer.

  “Perhaps it isn’t best for her. Ever think of that? She’s a smart woman who knows her own mind. If she’s interested in you, she probably has reason to be. You’re a good guy, Kellan. You just don’t give yourself much credit for it.” Lila turned the door handle. “And for what it’s worth? I don’t think you’d ever slip. I bet Maggie would trust you not to as well.”

  The door closed behind her and I reached for my phone before I could kill the impulse. My mom answered on the second ring.

  “Kell?”

  “Yeah. It’s me. How are you?”

  “Good. Everything okay?”

  I turned on the speaker and set aside my phone, then reached for the guitar I’d left leaning against the sofa. I strummed through the beginning of “Turn the Page” before blowing out a breath and tapping out the beat against the body of my old Taylor. “Yeah. Everything’s good. You?”

  “Good. Just as it was two minutes ago.” There was a smile in her voice I’d missed hearing. We didn’t talk much anymore. She was actively dating and she was busy at school, and I was on the opposite coast most of the time. Bethy usually seemed to be our go-between other than on holidays.

  We definitely weren’t the Kellys or anything close.

  “Sorry. I’m a little scattered today.”

  “That’s all right. I’m just glad to hear your voice.”

  “How’s school going?” I asked, deliberately picking a topic I knew would keep her talking. Once she finished, maybe I’d have summoned enough nerve to say the reason behind my call.

  Cheerfully, she told me about some of her favorite students. As I listened, I rubbed my knee through the hole in my jeans. Even that gesture reminded me of Maggie and how she’d disliked my rockstar look. Hated might’ve been a more accurate assessment. She liked me better bearded and in sweats and rough around the edges. No hair gel or eye makeup or glitz.

  Me fucking too. Her preferred version of me was my true self, not the prettied-up version that sold albums. The stage look was my uniform, just a crazier one than most people had to wear on a daily basis. But when I was home, I could be me again. The me Maggie appreciated.

  The pseudo rockstar was the version she had no use for, and God, I loved her for that. Just loved her period, and it scared the shit out of me.

  I’d tried to talk myself out of it. Tried to ignore my feelings and bury them and pretend what I was experiencing was just lust. Except lust wouldn’t make me ache like this to see her again. I wanted inside her sweet pussy, but that wasn’t all I wanted. I craved hearing her laughter, her teasing, the way she laid her hand against my cheek and studied me so carefully while she tried to figure me out.

  In other women, that might annoy me. Not with her. She didn’t have an agenda and she wasn’t looking to change me. She wanted me as I was. God only knew why.

  Or at least she had, before.

  “You knew Maggie Kelly,�
� I said during a break in the conversation, unsurprised by her silence. “Years ago.”

  “Yes.” Her voice softened. Warmed. “I remember Maggie. Such a kind girl. Easily wounded, but she hid it well if you didn’t know how to read her.”

  I did. Somehow I did already, and knowing I’d hurt her—even though I’d tried to convince myself it was for her own benefit—was killing me.

  “She told me about you.” I cleared my throat and decided I’d work on not doing that another day. I could only fix so many flaws in one goddamn week.

  This week, I was working on the reason why I’d driven away the best person I’d ever known. Because I wasn’t good enough for her. Because I didn’t want to possibly harm her down the road. Because I might turn out to be just like my fucking father.

  Instead I’d hurt her right from the start.

  “I didn’t realize you knew Maggie,” my mom said, her pleasure evident.

  “It’s a new thing. We met on New Year’s Eve. I’m probably in love with her.”

  Yeah, that was me. Subtle all the way.

  My mom laughed. “Wow. Well then. Are you calling to tell me you’re thinking about getting married?”

  I didn’t have a reply for that one. My vocal cords had glued themselves together in sheer terror.

  Married? Was that the way this had to end?

  Probably. Just not right now. A guy needed some time to ease in, even if he had basically fallen in love in the course of a night.

  Christ, I was so fucked.

  “If so, I can’t wait to help her pick out a dress,” my mom continued. “Maggie was such a tiny thing. Big family. Big strapping brothers who grunted if anyone so much as looked sideways at her. I always thought she was a bit stifled, if you want to know the truth. Overprotected in the extreme. Why, she was practically treated like a doll in the window.”

  “Yeah, just what I want to deal with. Barreling through a football squad to get to her. Oh, and the wedding thing? No. Not now. Not yet.” Any more qualifiers and I might as well cancel the whole statement.

  “Oh.”

  “Don’t sound like your dog just died. I just met the girl.” I shook my head, amused rather than irritated. My mother hadn’t hidden her desire for more grandchildren. She just usually harassed Bethy, not me. I wasn’t likely to produce one this century.