Strum Me: A Rockstar Romance (Rock Chamber Boys Book 2)

by Daisy Allen

  “Wha?” Sebastian looks up from his snack.

  “Where’s your ball and chain?” I grin at him, tugging on his tie.

  “On her bus where she belongs!” he says cockily.

  “Ooh, wait ‘til she hears that!” I threaten him.

  “I ain’t afraid of her!” he counters, then loud-whispers back to me, “but seriously, don’t tell her.”

  “Commercial!” Marius announces.

  “BOTTOM’S UP!” Sebastian and Jez shout and down their drinks and motion for me to do the same.

  I sigh and take a drink from the beer Jez handed me. “How long does this show go for anyway?”

  “I dunno, it’s a marathon”

  “Hell.”

  ***

  Did I ever tell you that you smell of blueberry muffins?

  No. And I’m glad you didn’t. Why were you sniffing me?

  I dunno, you always smelled nice. What did I smell like?

  Orange Tic Tacs.

  Oh, I love those.

  I know :)

  I know you know. You know everything.

  Do I?

  Sure. You know I miss you so much.

  You’re drunk. Go to sleep.

  You know I want you so much.

  You’re going to regret these texts in the morning.

  You know, if you were here, I’d be kissing you so hard.

  I didn’t know that, but I guess I know it know. What about you? What do you know?

  I know you want me to kiss you.

  Do I?

  Yes. And you want me to. I could taste it when we last kissed.

  What else could you taste? On my finger?

  Your pussy.

  How could you taste that?

  I remember how it tasted.

  After all this time?

  Yes, I crave it. Look for it. No one tastes like you. Only you taste like you, and I crave it. Do you know something else?

  What?

  I’m stroking my cock thinking of you right now.

  Do you want to know something?

  What?

  If you tasted my finger now, you would taste my pussy.

  Fuck. I’m going to come just thinking of that.

  Then think of it.

  I’m coming, Butter. I’m coming for you.

  Good. Now it’s my turn.

  ***

  “Up and at ‘em, gentlemen! It’s coffee time!” a loud voice announces, accompanying the knock on the side of the bus that seems to go on forever.

  “Kill ‘em. Whoever that is, kill ‘em,” I moan into my pillow.

  “Can’t. They have coffee,” I hear Marius whimper in the room next to me.

  “Fuck it all to damn hell. Fine, spare ‘em, but only if they bring coffee tomorrow too, ”Jez mutters from the hallway as he drags himself out to greet the coffee.

  “Not a damn chance, dickhead,” Sebastian replies.

  I force myself to sit up, my phone falling from my chest. For some reason, my pants are half way down my legs and—

  Oh fuck.

  I check the screen of my phone. Seven messages, all from Emily.

  I can’t believe I’m doing this.

  I want you too.

  Do you want to know what I’m doing?

  Brad?

  Brad are you still there?

  You came and passed out, didn’t you?

  You suck!

  Oh no, no no no no no!

  I scroll through the messages from last night. I can’t believe what I’m reading, and that it went so far. If I wasn’t so hungover, I’d probably have to jack off again. As it is, I’m horrified. it is not what I wanted to happen with her. But oh God, the tequila. It gets me every time.

  There’s only one way to deal with this.

  Grovel.

  I don’t wait for coffee before I send her a message.

  I’m so sorry, I don’t know what happened. I must’ve fallen asleep. Forgive me?

  No. Comes the answer.

  Let me make it up to you?

  You’re obviously still drunk.

  Butter?

  Let’s just pretend it didn’t happen. It’s probably good it didn’t.

  I miss you.

  Get used to it.

  What? You are still coming aren’t you?

  Yes. It was a figure of speech.

  I’m glad you’re still coming.

  Don’t get used to that.

  You coming?

  Anyone coming.

  Yes ma’am. I’m sorry again.

  It’s okay. It was fun while it lasted. Gtg. See you this afternoon.

  ***

  I’m nervous. I’m actually nervous.

  I’ve played to millions of people on TV at the Grammys, I’ve played to hundreds of thousands of people at Glastonbury, but standing here at the airport with this stupid rose in my hand, waiting for Emily to get off the plane, I’m actually fucking nervous.

  It’s bad enough that I was having spontaneous heart palpitations and erections just thinking of her, but after my stellar performance last night, I’m not really sure what she thinks of me right now.

  I’m actually glad for the buffer that Ben is going to be, and to be honest, I’m really looking forward to seeing the little tyke as well. He’s like a tiny male version of Emily. He’ll say something and it’s like I’ve heard it before. Or he’ll run his hand through his hair and then look at it, as if surprised at how silky it is, just like I’ve seen her do a thousand times before. I’m fast falling for the little kid, and it’s scaring me almost as much as it is falling for her.

  “Brad!”

  “Benny Boy!”

  He runs up to me as if we’ve known each other for years and jumps up into my arms. I hug him tight, taking care to not jostle his arm. And he giggles, for what seems like no reason at all.

  “How are you doing, buddy? I’ve missed you guys!”

  “You have? Mommy’s missed you too. She said it like ten times.”

  “Oh she did, did she?” I allow myself to look at her for the first time.

  “Never mind that. Go get your bag.” Butter ushers her son along.

  “So, you missed me, did you?” My grin feels like it’s splitting my face in half.

  “I thought you ‘knew’ that already.” She glares at me.

  I lean down close to her, my cheek brushing hers and I think I hear a soft gasp from her lips. “I’m just glad you did, because I missed you so much, it hurt to breathe,” I whisper low into her ear.

  “Seemed like you were breathing just fine last night.” She pulls away and rolls her eyes at me before shaking her head and letting out a tiny chuckle. It’s little, but it’s something. Something to say, “the door’s not closed on us yet.”

  “I got my bag, Mommy.”

  I take his backpack from him. “Okay, let’s get this show on the road! How ‘bout you tell me all about your helicopter ride, hey?” I pick him up and carry him through the crowd to the waiting car while listening to his excited babbling.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Emily

  I’ve been gone almost a week after having spent only three days with the band and crew, but they welcome me back like family. Even more than that. They welcome my family like family. I arrive to find that the empty room has been made up for the nurse, a cute redhead that fell in love with Ben at first sight, Carrie. Cadence has also moved to the guys’ bus to bunk with Sebastian, and given her room up for Ben.

  When Ben is taken into his room, I think he’s going to faint from excitement. They’ve decorated his room in Transformers bed sheets and posters on the wall. And there are a Transformers toothbrush and a towel waiting for him in the bathroom, and Transformers DVDs lined all along the shelf in the living room. It is going to be impossible get him to go home.

  Having Ben here is a welcome distraction, though.

  After last night and the unexpected direction our text conversation went, I’m not sure that Brad and I should be left alone. Ever.


  I don’t know what came over me. One minute I was lying there, hugging the phone to my chest, so glad to hear from him. The next I’m closing my eyes, picturing him lying there, stroking his hard cock, wishing his hands were on me, his fingers sliding into me, instead of my own.

  Even after he’d stopped responding, I continued, my orgasm building as I remembered the way he touched me. How his fingers slid into me eight years ago, driving deeper and deeper while his thumb caressed my clit, my back arching, and him catching my nipple in his mouth.

  I wanted him so bad if he’d been there I’d have begged …begged him to fuck me, begged him to release the orgasm building through my body. As it was, I came pretty hard anyway, imagining his mouth catching my climax, his tongue strumming against my pussy, extending the pleasure.

  Yeah.

  Brad and I should definitely not be left alone.

  There’s a knock on my door and I clear my throat before I answer. “Yeah?”

  “We’re ready to go out to dinner, probably just across the road at the pizza place, since Ben will most probably like something there. Is that okay?” Cadence asks.

  “It’s…guys, you don’t have to worry about Ben. Don’t make any extra effort; he’ll be fine. I don’t want him to get in anyone’s way.”

  “Are you kidding? We all adore him. You’re going to have to keep an eye on him or else one of us is going to adopt him.”

  I don’t know if it’s true. But it’s awfully nice of them to say.

  I knock on the wall adjoining our rooms.

  “Come on, Buster, pizza for dinner!”

  “YAY! Do you think they have ice cream as well?”

  ***

  The next few days are an absolute blur. The Birmingham leg has the band doing four thirty-minute shows, eight radio interviews, and two mall signings and meet and greets. Between following the guys, writing a short column for Phil about the tour, and looking after Ben, there’s barely time to breathe let alone have any less-than-platonic thoughts about Brad.

  But that doesn’t stop my entire body from burning hot whenever he’s around.

  The days start early. Morning breakfast listeners up early for the drive into work have proven to be the band’s target audience and for three days in a row, we’re up before 6 a.m. The nanny has proven to be a godsend and Ben adores her which makes leaving him with her easier for me, so he gets to sleep in until we meet up with him somewhere for a quick lunch.

  “THEY LOVE IT!” I yell as we’re shoveling fish and chips and salad before rushing off to another radio interview on a drive time show.

  “What? Who loves what?” Brad asks, through his mouthful of fish.

  “My column. Phil says the response has been really positive! It’s gotten three times as many views as any of the other articles today, and he’s already received calls from about three other publications to commission the entire series.”

  “Did you post a picture of us?” Brad wonders.

  “Of course.”

  “Well, duh, that’s why!”

  “Oh hush!” I throw a chip at him and it bounces off the tip of his nose.

  “Just kidding, it really was great. We all told you so last night.”

  “I dunno, could you have left out the part about my spending thirty minutes in Sephora?” Jez whines.

  “No.” I grin and shove a chip into my mouth. I’m so happy.

  “Then, yes, it’s still a great piece,” he concedes and gives me a cheeky wink.

  I sink back into my seat, shaking from the excitement…and in some part, relief. I had invested everything in this, dropped all other writing work, dragged my wounded son along on tour, and sacrificed my sanity following my teen love around for a month. Knowing that it might have really been worth it feels like a giant two-ton weight has come falling off my shoulders.

  I pull Ben into a hug and he growls a little in protest. “M-om, I’m eating. And everyone’s watching.”

  “Let them watch, ‘cause now they’re going to see this!” I lean over and give him a big kiss on the cheek, wiping off the lipstick mark I leave behind.

  “Ewwwww!”

  “You’re a lucky boy, Benny. I’d love to have a lipstick mark like that on my cheek!” Brad teases Ben.

  “You can. You just have to get Mommy to love you like she loves me.”

  “Got it, kiddo, I’ll keep that tip in mind.”

  ***

  On the third and last day in Birmingham, the guys have a special concert at the chamber concert hall lined up. Dennis arranges a mid-morning rehearsal so the guys can practice some of the pieces they haven’t played for a while off the new album. We all meet up at the rehearsal studio after a quick breakfast, and it’s clear that everyone’s feeling a little tired from the last few days.

  After the first few songs, Marius puts his viola down and lies down flat on the floor.

  “Can I sit this one out?” he begs.

  “Lay this one out more like it,” Jez quips.

  “Me too,” Brad says and falls down on the ground almost on top of Marius. “Let’s make it a cello-only song!”

  “Make that a cello solo piece,” Jez adds as he joins the pile of male musicians building up on the studio floor.

  “Fine by me,” Sebastian grins. He picks up his cello and plays a quick scale. Then bows and grins, holding his arms up waiting for applause.

  “It’s a good thing he’s good in bed; his cello playing’s becoming somewhat questionable,” Cadence says to the mock offense of her fiancé, and the amusement of everyone else.

  “What does that mean?” Ben suddenly asks from his corner where he’s behind his iPad.

  Everyone freezes and their eyes turn to me. I take a swig from my water bottle, stalling as I try to think of an answer.

  “Um, Aunt Cadence just means Sebastian is really good at sleeping, honey,” I say, pointing back at the iPad to shift his attention.

  “Oh, what’s going on here?” Dennis’s voice booms through the small space. “Why, pray tell, are you all lolling about on the floor like a bunch of limp sardines?”

  “They’re trying to be as good in bed as Sebastian, Uncle Dennis. Aunt Cadence said he’s so good it doesn’t matter he’s not good at cello playing,” Ben tells the older man helpfully.

  Dennis stops in his tracks and blinks. I can see the profanities dancing on his lips and I give him a pointed look.

  Everyone has had to be on their best behavior around Ben and I’ve truly appreciated their effort, but I’m sure next term at school I’ll be called up to the principal’s office for some colorful language from Ben he’s inadvertently learned on the road.

  “Oh. I see. Okay. Well, not time for sleep now lads, time for play. Specifically, music play. Let’s take it from the mashup of ‘Flight of the Bumblebee’ and ‘Wings.’”

  “Noooooooo, you’re kidding me, right? I can barely hold my head up let alone play Rimsky Korsakov’s torture piece now,” we hear from Brad the molehill.

  I can understand his hesitation—as the token violinist, he has to hold up most of that piece, play it like the bumblebee is buzzing to and fro, whizzing back and forth, ducking and weaving. But judging by the way he doesn’t even care that one of his legs is trapped under Jez and his arm is flung over Marius’s face, that bumblebee might as well fall into a pond of water and drown in an untimely death.

  “Come on, we’ve got to get the transition right. You guys are rushing the tempo change. It’s a mashup, not a smackdown between Korsakov and Birdy.”

  Dennis prods the pile of arms and legs and torsos with his foot and the pile groans. Eventually, it moves and separates into three individual bodies and they take their places again. I’ve heard this piece on their album but not live, and I’m glad Dennis has gotten them back on their feet because I can’t wait to hear it.

  Cadence grins at me and bounds over to the piano. Where she gets her endless energy, I don’t know. Something to do with being a teacher, she said, and how nothing
saps your energy like that.

  Dennis finds a seat and Hailey flips the switch on the recording device so the boys can listen back on it later.

  There’s a sense of electric energy in the air. They know this piece is special. They’ve titled the mashup piece “Bumblebee Wings,” and I think it might just be their Grammy-winner.

  Brad gives the other guys a nod, their faces serious now, forgetting the laziness of just seconds ago. They’re in the zone, and nothing can break it.

  I hold my breath and wait for brilliance.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Emily

  The crowd grows silent. Even though they don’t know what’s coming, there’s something in the air that tells them what they’re about to hear is special.

  I’m still recovering from my experience of hearing it in rehearsal this afternoon, but here in the front row of this small but atmospheric orchestra hall with a thousand hardcore fans behind me, I can’t wait to hear it again. I want to see it played how it was meant to be played, live and for as many people to listen to it as possible.

  As customary, before the opening of any half of their show and encore, the hall and stage fall completely dark. The Rock Chamber Boys’ experience is a full body sensory one. The boys and their crew, their light manager, their backdrop, their décor—they know that every inch of this hall, space, and sound can be controlled to heighten their experience.

  It’s pitch black and I can feel Hailey moving next to me on one side, and Hank, Sebastian’s nephew and assistant on the other. They’re watching through different eyes, having been so close to it and wanting to make sure everything runs as they’ve pictured it all these months.

  I’m buzzing with such anticipation and excitement, it’s a wonder I’m not lighting up the space like a firefly.

  I can hear their footsteps, and not for the first time I can’t figure out how they don’t fall flat on their faces in the dark. I guess it’s partly why they have nothing on stage but them and their instruments.

  “And…now,” Hailey whispers to herself, and as if on cue, there’s a plucking of a cello string. A low bass note drives the rhythm deep. It echoes in my chest and takes over my heartbeat. I know it’s Sebastian, and I can imagine the concentration on his face.