Hard Sell: A Bad-Boy, Rock Star Romance

by Savannah Skye

“Figured what out?”

  “That’s it.” He chuckled and let out a stifled shout of elation, like Einstein discovering electricity. “There it is.” He cocked his head, turned his ear to the beat and began to sing the lyrics to a song she had never heard before.

  ‘Turn and face the sea,

  Moon shining light upon your skin,

  Take it now,

  Take it all in,

  Feel the burn,

  As it all yearns to end

  The trouble is,

  I can never see,

  Never see what’s become of you and me,

  And you’re drowning in my sin,

  On the boardwalk of yesterday’s dreams.’

  “What do you think?” he asked, eyes narrowed as they probed her face expectantly.

  She couldn’t lie. While it was way different from Sub-Zero’s typical sound, there was a haunting appeal to the lyrics, the beat, and the way it rolled softly and effortlessly across his lips.

  Gina was impressed and she couldn’t hide it. She passed him a wide smile. “That was really good, actually.”

  “You think so?” His eyes lit up and her stomach flip-flopped.

  “I’m not saying your constant drumming on inanimate objects doesn’t annoy me, but yeah, you can definitely write. And sing. And play instruments. You’re a jack of all trades.”

  “That almost sounded like a another compliment.” He reached forward to playfully poke her in the chest.

  She gripped the railing tighter and forced herself not to smile up at him. “Don’t get used to it.”

  “Oh, yeah?” He shook his head wildly, unable to hide the satisfied grin etched across his lips. But it was the heat in his gaze that had her blood rushing hot. “We’ll see about that.”

  Gina’s stomach twisted into knots as she remembered having done the same thing with Peter. It started out innocent enough, two attractive people playing with each other, drawn together by their jobs, until it became something more.

  And then it all fell apart.

  Peter, too, started out as one of her clients, and that admiration they shared for one another somewhere along the way turned into love.

  And then into heartbreak.

  The painful memories brought about a case of whiplash. Her flirtatious smile faded into a frown.

  “We should get back to work,” she said. “You have a date with Carlene Richardson coming up soon and you’re still nowhere near prepared.”

  Chapter 7

  Denied.

  Not that he’d actually made a move, but damn, he’d wanted to. And then she’d shut down faster than an Atlanta grammar school during a snow shower.

  Which—fuck it,—that was probably the best-case scenario anyway. He knew the two of them, he and Gina, could never be a real thing, but it didn’t stop the fantasies twisting through his imagination.

  Maybe he couldn’t touch.

  Maybe he couldn’t feel.

  But he could most definitely dream.

  They made their way to the end of the pier and looked out into the distance, both of them leaning over the wooden railing at the end of the line.

  Finally, Rory couldn’t keep quiet a moment longer. “I’m not going to like Carlene.”

  “Probably not.” Gina shrugged.

  “Then what’s the point?” He cocked his head toward Gina. “If we both know something is going to fail, then why even try?”

  “Because it’s our jobs to try.” She stared up at the stars that were barely visible so close to the towering city lights. “That’s what we do. We try and we fail, and then we try again. You’re an artist, you should know exactly how this works.”

  “You’re right,” he scoffed and broke free from the railing. “I am an artist. I’m not an actor.”

  “We’ve been through this.” She rolled her eyes and let out a desperate sigh. “It’s not about you—”

  “You’re wrong, though,” he pointed out. “It is about me. It’s all about me now and I didn’t ask for it.”

  “Where is this coming from?” She spun to face him, and then dug her hands into the pockets of her jeans. “You’re hot and you’re cold. You’re funny and then you’re rude. I can’t get a good read on you.”

  “There’s an easy explanation for that.” He stepped toward her and leaned close. He knew he had some kind of power over her, just by the way she reacted. Her eyes were wary but needy, her body tensed at his touch even as she leaned into him.

  She swiveled so that her back was to him, shutting him out again. “This was a terrible idea.”

  “She’s too conservative. Carlene, I mean.” Rory said with a shake of his head.

  “You’re wrong,” she said in response as she turned back around to poke him in the chest. “She’s nothing like her father, which is why she’s perfect for you, at least for our purposes.”

  “That’s another thing that’s been bothering me,” he began. “Ever since that meeting with Ava, I’ve started to feel like I’m nothing but a piece of meat.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” She tilted her head.

  “If you were in my shoes, you’d say the same damn thing.”

  “Maybe I would. But you agreed to this, Rory.” She pushed past him. “And I’m obviously incapable of doing the job assigned to me despite that agreement. So I guess it’s me, then.”

  “It’s not like that,” he said between gritted teeth, growing more and more frustrated because he couldn’t put into words the thoughts that were slowly driving him mental.

  “Then tell me what it is like. Come on, Mr. Know-it-all.”

  “It’s about the girls.” He balled his hands into fists at his sides. “Every single one of them, and most definitely it’s about Carlene Richardson.”

  “Fine,” she said and took a step toward him. “Then tell me what is missing. Tell me why you can’t bring yourself to give the time of day to any of these women when you should be thrilled for the chance with half of them.”

  He shrugged, and then averted his gaze so that it was hidden under the blanket of darkness between the soft pools of light. “I want—need—someone who is confident and—”

  “All of these girls share that same basic common trait.”

  “Are you going to let me finish or—?”

  “Yeah.” She pushed herself back against the railings and listened with bated breath. “Continue.”

  “A girl who is beautiful in all the right ways. I need a woman who knows what she wants, but doesn’t always chase after it because there is also a dollop of humanity lurking underneath her ambition.”

  Gina glared. He could have sworn her eyes were burning hot against his skin, her gaze as effective as lasers, but he was already on a roll and he wasn’t about to stop now.

  He bowed his head. “I need a girl who has a past and a future where she can get over that past. I need a girl who knows how to stay, who wants to stay. And maybe on the surface she’s not all these things. Maybe she needs a hell of a lot of work in the same way that I, too, need work. But she at least needs to know that there’s something on the other side of today.” He raised his eyes to meet hers, caught her hook, line, and sinker, too. “Did that give you any insight?”

  She swallowed in lieu of a response.

  “Yeah.” He began to approach her with one careful step after another.

  Her eyes glistened underneath the pale yellow lights and as she took another impossible step backward, her body pressed tight against the wooden railings. She had nowhere left to go…

  Right where Rory wanted her.

  Right where he needed her.

  “What if you’re that girl, Gina?” he whispered. “What if you’re the one you’ve been searching for?”

  “No,” she scoffed, shaking her head furiously. Or was it a chuckle? Rory couldn’t be certain either way, he was too busy navigating the overfilled corridors of his mind.

  “Are you crazy?” she hissed. “You must be crazy, or you’re fucking with me, which would
just make you even crazier.” She pushed herself up against his body, but she was no match for him.

  “Why not?” He dropped a hand to caress her cheek first and then her arm. She shivered underneath his touch, her legs trembling and offering advance warning that they could go out from beneath her at any second.

  If Rory loved getting her riled up, then he was absolutely thrilled with the prospect of making her weak in the knees. He combed a hand through her hair and she did something unexpected, she leaned against his touch this time with her eyes flirting between staying open and fluttering closed.

  He dropped his head slightly, just enough to tease her with his warm breath. She placed a steadying palm against his chest, and then her gaze shifted and she shook her head so gently that Rory himself would have missed it if he had stopped to blink.

  “Wh…What are you doing to me?” she stammered, pushed her hand tighter against his chest, her fingers digging into the fabric of the AC/DC tee and the harder than rock muscles beneath the black shirt. “We shouldn’t. We can’t.”

  “Who makes these rules anyway?” It was a question he didn’t need a response to, just needed to see her eyes twinkle under the waning light of the moon once more. That’s when he dropped his head lower, his lips close to hers so that he could practically taste the cherry perfection.

  She broke away from him in a frenzied panic. “I’ll make sure your car is ready for your date tomorrow.”

  Rory could have said something, but he knew it would have been fruitless. He pushed his hands into his pockets and sighed as she turned and walked away slowly, disappearing into the neon-lit abyss behind her one careful step at a time.

  Gina would only be in New York for a couple more weeks. By then, he and the band would be done recording this album while she went back home and put together a plan for the tour to follow.

  Which meant she was stuck with him for a while longer. If tonight had proven anything, it was that she wasn’t as immune to him as she pretended to be. So he’d just have to use the next two weeks to wear her down.

  Because he hadn’t been kidding. He wasn’t interested in a single one of the women she’d picked for him.

  Because he was crazy about bossy, hard-headed, too-blind-to-see-what-was-right-in-front-of-her Gina Saldano.

  Chapter 8

  Rory was on his date.

  He was out there, having a grand old time and where was she? Lying on the bed in her hotel suite, staring blankly at the ceiling, watching as the fan above her turned in slow circles. Her eyes were heavy, not from physical exhaustion but from mental strain.

  Her phone vibrated on the nightstand, and she reached for it to check who was calling. It had been forty-eight hours since Peter had announced his engagement for all the world to see and she still wasn’t particularly in the mood to hear from her family yet.

  Just her luck, the caller was her sister Fiona.

  She groaned, briefly thought about answering the call but decided against it. As Fiona had done at least ten times by now, Gina figured she’d leave another voicemail.

  The phone continued to purr in her hand, and when it stopped she waited for the voicemail alert to pop up. When it did, she sighed as she swiped her finger across the phone to listen to the message.

  “Hey, sis, this is Fiona. You remember her, right? Well, she’s your sister and she’s worried about you. You’re going to be okay. You’re going to bounce back and one day, you’ll get married too—”

  Gina groaned. That was all she needed to hear. She deleted the voicemail and dropped the phone back onto the bed with a heavy sigh. Peter was everything her family ever wanted for her. He was everything she ever thought she wanted as well, but his lying, cheating ass proved to be incompatible.

  She forced herself out of bed, though she honestly could have lay there for days, if only it weren’t for that pesky little thing called work.

  And, more specifically, Rory.

  She sat up in bed and pushed her back to the wall, reached for a pillow and pulled it into her lap to cradle as she thought back to the previous night.

  He’d kissed her. Or at least he tried.

  But why? That was the question that was keeping her up late at night. From there, other questions branched out like a tree. What were his intentions? Why did she react the way she did? And why did all these questions seem to matter so much?

  Her feet landed against soft carpet as she made two quick steps to the mini-fridge, ripped it open, and grabbed an ice-cold bottle of tequila.

  It wasn’t Rory that had her reeling. Not really. This—the kiss, the weakness, the doubt—all of it was for one reason: Peter. Peter and his stupid, thoughtless engagement.

  She drained the mini bottle of tequila, set it back on the counter and let the deep, slow burn coat her throat.

  Well, guess what? Daphne Ferrel could have Peter. Gina couldn’t care less. Sure, on some level, she had lingering anger and hurt, but Daphne and Peter deserved each other.

  After all, Daphne wasn’t the only girl Peter had cheated on Gina with. She was just the one who was lucky enough to be picked as Gina’s replacement.

  An S-list singer-turned-actress who wasn’t very good at either of her jobs. A try-hard wannabe dreaming of a fairy tale happily ever after with one of the hottest actors in the world. Daphne must not have realized that fairy tales never last forever.

  Shit, I’m bitter, Gina thought to herself with a slight grimace as she twisted the cap off another mini bottle of tequila.

  “To Daphne and Peter.”

  She eyed the tequila, and found herself tapping her fingers along the edge of the bar instead of drinking it. Then, then the rhythm reached her, she started. She was tapping that same beat Rory had been toying with all day the day before, the song he’d sung for her on the boardwalk.

  He’s getting to me…

  With a frustrated sigh, she reached for the remote, but then she looked down, she found her phone in her hand instead. Shit. It was a sign or something. She held her hand above the screen and grumbled under her breath.

  This was the real reason she’d been drinking. Not because of Peter’s stupid wedding and not just because of Rory, although she hated to admit that he was a huge part of it. But mostly because she knew what she had to do. Her job.

  She just didn’t want to do it.

  Once she found his number—still saved into her phone after all this time—she hesitated for a moment before pressing with her thumb against the screen.

  Her heart thundered in her chest in the short period of silence before the first ring. And after the first ring, she tried to take a steadying breath, but it was no use—the blood was hammering in her ears and she felt woozy and weak. The terrible, awful way Peter made her feel.

  And then the line clicked to life, and she held her breath, waiting for the deep voice she still knew all too well.

  “Hello, Gina,” he said, voice low and curious. “I have to say, I didn’t expect to hear from you ever again.”

  “Yeah, well, we hardly ended on great terms,” she shot back.

  “Never mind, I know why you’re calling,” he said. “You think I should call off the wedding or something—”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffed. “The truth…the truth is that I need a favor from you and getting back together with me is so not it.”

  “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested in what this favor is.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I mean, really interested.”

  Gina couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or if he was being a smartass. It didn’t exactly matter either way as she had one job to do and one job only. “Look, Peter. Think of what I’m about to ask you as a business arrangement.”

  “You have my ear.”

  “As you may or may not be aware,” she said, “I’m working publicity for the band, Sub-Zero.”

  “Yeah, I heard that. Quite the fall from grace if you ask me.”

  Gina swallowed her pride—literally—and forced a
smile even though she knew he couldn’t see her through the phone. “Sub-Zero is on the rise and they’re still riding the success of the previous tour. We’re working to integrate the drummer, Rory, more into the spotlight since the lead singer is now engaged.”

  “What does this have to do with me?”

  “I want an invite for Rory.”

  “You can’t be serious,” he laughed, but she remained calm and steady. “Why would I do that? Close family and friends only.”

  “The band is a hot-ticket item, and Rory is about to be one of the biggest names in town. His presence at your wedding would increase media coverage.”

  Personally, if Gina were getting married, she’d hate to have any publicity at all. She was more of the private breed, preferring intimacy and privacy over fame and fortune. But Peter was different and since she dated the asshole for a long time, she understood his basic needs; to be loved and adored.

  To him, everything was about publicity. Nothing was sacred. Something Gina knew all too well when, two weeks after their breakup, Peter himself made an appearance on the cover of US Weekly with a feature inside where he openly discussed his broken heart.

  “Fine,” Peter huffed with an air of superiority and she could just tell there was going to be an addendum to him agreeing to her proposal. “I’ll help you out for old time’s sake and send an invite to his agent.”

  “Awesome.” Gina nodded, still waiting for the all-important but…

  “But,” Peter began, and she frowned, “since there are no hard feelings, I’d like you to come along, too.”

  “Huh?”

  “I’ll send you an e-vite.”

  “I think I’ll be out of town,” she lied right through her teeth. “I’m sorry.”

  “Come on,” he pleaded. “You’re basically your own boss, so you can make your own schedule. And just think of how it would look to have the former jilted girlfriend come to the wedding. Talk about publicity.”

  Jesus, he was a cold bastard. She couldn’t help but wonder what his future wife would think about this little plan and found herself pitying the girl. For a second.