Rock Her Long (Rock Her Series Book 3)

by Alyson Hale

  This is Eddie, your new favorite rock star ;)

  The winky face affects me more than I wish it would. I’m glad he doesn’t know he’s always been my favorite rock star, or all the filthy, sinful things he’s already done to me in my head.

  “You have a phone number with our area code?” I ask, surprised.

  “I bought a phone just for our time in the States,” Eddie explains.

  Oh, right. This guy is loaded. Of course buying another phone plan was nothing for him. I must look so stupid to him in my second-hand clothes and the Uggs I’ve been wearing since senior year of high school.

  “I’ll text you when we’re hanging out,” Eddie says. He tucks his phone into the other back pocket of his jeans. The way he’s looking at me makes my stomach flutter.

  Damn, this guy is hot. I don’t care how poor I look, I’m going to party with him every chance I get until we go our separate ways.

  “Sounds good. Do you want your jacket back before it’s time to go?”

  “No, it’s all right,” Eddie replies.

  “Are you sure?” I ask. “You must be freezing out here.”

  Eddie shakes his head. His brown hair falls into his eyes, making his cheekbones look higher and his jaw look sharper. I watch his sexy smile crawl across his face one more time, hoping he doesn’t see what he’s doing to my insides.

  “Keep it. It suits you.”

  Chapter 8

  Eddie

  “Oi, moron!”

  My charming brother lifts his empty beer bottle in my direction as I walk into his flat and close the cold metal door behind me. Alex is in his lap, cradling a beer of her own as she suckles on his neck. Cyril is in an easy chair opposite the couch, minding his own business with a beer in one hand and a cigar in the other.

  “Bring me a beer from the icebox,” Damien orders.

  I glower at my older brother. “You expect me to do you a favor after you insult me like that? Fuck no.” I cross the open layout to the icebox and grab myself a Guinness. Looking him dead in the face, I open it and sit down in a black egg chair across from them without bringing him anything.

  The unexpected regeneration of my backbone gets Damien’s attention. His gray eyes, identical to mine, study me intently. “What’s gotten into you, Ed?”

  I sigh, looking off to the side as I cross my right ankle over my left leg. “That’s a loaded question,” I mutter under my breath. Taking a long draught of the milky beverage, I allow my mind to ponder the answer. What has gotten into me? Earlier this evening, I was still determined to never let a woman see my emotional side again. Tonight I came dangerously close to doing just that. Elyza Calloway almost talked it out of me. Unlike other girls, I wasn’t annoyed by her questions and conversation. It wasn’t just a hurdle I had to jump over to get to the prize. I could have stood on that porch and talked to her all night, and I hate that I could’ve. I hate what she did to me. I’ve spent ten years hardening myself, and she’s made me all soft on the inside again.

  Alex’s chuckle echoes through the open space. She sings, “Somebody likes Elyza.”

  “Goddamnit.” I set the beer bottle on a nearby end table and run my hands down my face. “Was it that obvious?”

  “You only spent the entire night together,” Cyril pipes up. He grins at me around his paper-wound smoking device.

  “Not the entire night,” Damien corrects.

  I roll my eyes. Damien would be the one whose mind went there.

  Alex slides off of Damien’s lap, letting him wrap his arm around her. He reaches around and squeezes her large, round tit. Alex scowls and smacks his hand away.

  “Not in front of your family,” she scolds. Damien just waggles his eyebrows at her. She shakes her head, then turns her attention back toward me with concern in her big brown eyes. “It seemed like you two were hitting it off. Why are you so upset?”

  I run my forefinger in circles around the mouth of my beer bottle. “It’s a long story,” I tell her.

  Alex snuggles in closer to Damien and pulls his hand down until it’s too low to touch her breasts. He scowls in disappointment, but she doesn’t notice, or at least pretends not to. She shrugs in my direction. “We’ve got time.”

  Everyone in the room stares at me. I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck, and lean forward on my elbows. “My ex-girlfriend, Chelsea, and I met at a friend’s birthday party in London. She encouraged me to help found the band. She came to every performance and cheered us on. I thought I’d met the girl of my dreams. When we left to tour Europe, I asked her to wait for me. We kept in touch for a while, but then her texts and calls started coming less and less frequently.

  “She started sounding pissed off every time she answered the phone. I stopped calling her because I didn’t want to hear her anger on the other side of the line. I bought an engagement ring, thinking perhaps the distance was taking a toll on her and she needed reassurance of my feelings for her. Then I came home, walked into my own bedroom with the ring in my pocket and saw her legs spread wide open for another man’s cock.”

  I hear groans of sympathy from around the room. Even telling that story makes me feel like a shell of a man. After I kicked her out of the flat and my life for good, I destroyed everything in that room. I changed flats. I did anything and everything to wash her out of my life, but she’s always in the back of my mind, taunting me. Saying I wasn’t good enough to wait for.

  I’ll never say it out loud, but she destroyed me. I can’t be whole for Elyza or anyone else because of how much she stole from me that day.

  Alex’s eyes flood with tears. “That’s horrible,” she rasps. “You seem so cheerful all the time. I never would have imagined you were carrying this much pain inside.”

  I shrug. My eyes hurl daggers at my brother. “What was I supposed to do? Give this fucker more reason to put me down on a daily basis?”

  Damien’s face registers guilt. He lets go of Alex and crosses the room to crouch in front of me.

  “Look, mate…” Damien lays his hand over mine, gripping me as if I’m his lifeline in a storm. I have been his lifeline pretty much my entire life. He’s never been strong enough to resist the girls, the drugs, the drinks...I’m always the one he depends on and utterly takes for granted. It’s not just him, though. My signature smile and cheery attitude make people feel like life isn’t so shitty, so they depend on me to keep it going. Now that my guard is down, I don’t know what to expect, so I wait silently while Damien swallows down his emotions.

  “I know I haven’t been the best brother to you.” He looks me in the eyes. I’m surprised to see sincerity there for the first time in years. “I know you’ve had to be my rock over the past few years, maybe even longer than that. But you need to know that all that’s changing now. Now that I have Alex, I am living proof that it’s never too late for a second chance.” Damien smiles and looks over his shoulder at Alex. She winks, a slow smile starting on her face. He turns back to me. “From here on out, I’m going to start acting like the example you need me to be. I may rag you from time to time, but I want you to know I’ve never hated you and I didn’t mean to kick you when you were down. If I did that, I feel horrible about it. Please forgive me, brother.”

  I swallow hard, clenching my teeth until my jaw hurts. Memories of my brother passed out from mixing drugs and alcohol and waking up screaming obscenities at me as I rushed him to the hospital run through my mind. Even on “good” days, he was still cruel to me. I remember him purposely stealing women from me by cutting me down in front of them. He used to tell everyone I was shit at playing the bass and was only a part of the band because of him. I knew it was utter bullshit because I’ve written half our songs, but it still hurt, especially after all I’ve done to keep him afloat. He’s right, he hasn’t been the best brother. He hasn’t even been a good one. But it’s obvious Alex has caused a shift in him, hopefully for the better.

  “You promise you’re gonna get your shit together?” I challenge him with my eyes
.

  He gives me a lopsided grin. “I already have. Trust me, the right woman changes everything.” He leans in closer, any hint of joviality or teasing receding. “Which is why I think you should give Elyza the chance to show you she’s not Chelsea.”

  My eyes bulge out of my skull. My brother, the manwhore, the one who once said it was “disgusting” to fuck the same vagina twice, telling me to go after a girl? Maybe I’m not the one who’s going mad.

  I look up at Alex. She’s known Elyza since she was practically an infant. “What do you think, Alex?”

  Alex’s eyes soften until they look like pools of melted chocolate. “As soon as you two met, I started hearing wedding bells. I think you would be perfect together.” She stands and walks across the room to lay her hands on Damien’s shoulders. “But listen, Eddie: Elyza’s been hurt too, more than once, and not just by guys her own age. Her daddy left her when she was way too young to have to feel that kind of pain.” Her eyes glisten with tears. If I didn’t know better, I’d think Alex was just as hurt by it as the Calloway girls were. She’s more than a friend to them. She’s more like a third sister. “I think she’s still in denial about it. If you go after Elyza, you’re going to have to understand that she may not trust you right away. You’re going to have to win her over, and it might take a while.”

  The corner of my mouth pulls up. “Well...we’re a right mess, aren’t we?”

  “Perhaps.” Damien looks up into Alex’s eyes as if the world revolves around her instead of the sun. “But there is such a thing as a beautiful mess.”

  Chapter 9

  Elyza

  “Lance, my legs are freezing,” I whine, tugging at the clinging, high-waisted red mini-skirt Lance picked out for me. My top half is well insulated by a brand new black leather jacket over a black lace bustier. However, my legs are exposed to the winter cold, since only my calves are covered by my knee-high boots and the skirt barely covers my ass. “Are you sure this doesn’t look too skanky? I don’t want to look like a groupie or a prostitute. I just want to look like a twenty-year-old.”

  Lance’s brows draw together in offense. He straightens the shoulders of my jacket and looks me dead in the eyes, a firm tone entering his light, airy voice. “Elyza Jane Calloway, you know I would never make you look skanky. This outfit says sex and danger wrapped up in a classy package. Eddie’s jaw is going to hit the floor when he sees you in this. It may not be comfortable, but you know the old saying, girlfriend: ‘beauty is pain.’”

  I groan as I walk over toward the three-sided mirror in the dressing room. I’m missing Maria right now, who is hundreds of miles away spending the holidays with her own family. She would help me by using her lawyer-ing skills to convince Lance of how impractical this outfit is. No girl wants to go around in thirty degree weather—or less—with her legs exposed to the elements. If I had time to go home, I’d add leggings, or at the very least some wool tights. It may not be as sexy, but at least I wouldn’t be risking frostbite.

  As soon as my eyes meet my reflection, I eat my words. My reflection looks hot. Womanly hot, not college student hot. Yeah, I might be a little cold for the two minutes I have to walk from the parking garage to Slash, but Eddie is going to be thinking of nothing but getting between these legs...that is, if he even likes me the way I hope he does. It was hard to tell a few nights ago when we met, but he invited me out dancing with him tonight and didn’t mention anyone else coming with us. In most circles, asking a girl out one-on-one is a dead giveaway of sexual intent.

  My stomach twists into a knot. I know that if Eddie asked me out on a date, that means only one thing. Men like him tend to expect sex on the first date and there’s no guarantee of a second one. Jace and Kyri are the exception, not the rule. This is probably going to turn into a one-night stand. I have no idea how I’m going to react once we’re headed toward a hotel room, or God forbid, a bathroom stall. I also don’t know if he’s going to think it’s hot or lame that I’m still a virgin at nearly twenty-one years old.

  Until the moment I met Eddie Turner, I wanted to give my virginity to a man I could stay with. Now I just want the title of my “first” to belong to him, even if the idea terrifies me.

  I twist my hands in front of me. Lance comes around and lays his hand on top of them. He looks into my eyes through the mirror. “You’ve got this, girl. Breathe in, breathe out.”

  I follow his lead and feel much better after my lungs are filled with new air. The worst that can happen tonight is that Eddie tells me he thinks of me as a little sister. If that’s the case, saying goodbye to him when he leaves on tour will be a piece of cake. If he does see me as more than that, this could be the night I’ve been waiting for my whole life.

  This is your one shot, Elyza. Don’t blow it.

  ◆◆◆

  I walk up to the club and find Eddie waiting for me at the end of the roped-off VIP line. He looks like a classic bad boy, leaning against the wall carelessly with a cigar in his mouth and wearing all black with studs on his structured leather jacket. Eddie puffs on his cigar and glances around, looking mildly worried until his eyes rest on me. I watch his smile light up his features and try to calm down the butterflies in my stomach. Men don’t smile like that for their little sisters—or at least, I don’t think they do. Lance has never given me a smile that sparkling and devilish.

  Eddie takes his time looking up and down my body. I can almost see him salivating over me. I was right: this is a date. I’m about to get insanely lucky tonight.

  “There you are, darling,” he says. He takes my hand and presses a light kiss to my cheek before leading me up to the bouncer.

  My heart pitter-patters at the use of the word “darling.” I know it’s a common English greeting and probably doesn’t mean anything, but it sounds so damn good in his accent. He probably calls all the girls he takes out “darling” and “sweetheart.” I have to separate my feelings from this. If anything happens between us tonight, it’s just sex. It can’t be anything else.

  We approach a bouncer that looks like a stone giant. His pitch-black eyes squint at me for a second before settling on Eddie. “Is she of age?”

  “Yeah, barely twenty-one,” Eddie bullshits him. “She just looks young, that’s all.”

  I squirm in my nervousness, but put on a smile. The bouncer grunts and gives me another once-over. “Let me see some ID,” he says.

  My stomach crawls up into my throat. I dig in my brand-new clutch and realize I don’t have my wallet. I was so nervous thinking about spending the night with Eddie that I forgot to switch it over to the new purse Lance just bought me. “I-I forgot my ID.”

  The bouncer’s facial features tighten. He sighs, his shoulders slumping. “Well, I’ll let it slide this one time since she’s with you.” He turns to Eddie and unhooks the rope to let us into the club. His dark brows pull down over his eyes. “You’d better not get me in trouble, Turner.”

  “Thanks, mate. I owe you one.” Eddie points a finger gun at him and wraps his arm around me, leading me into the club.

  Slash is loud, overcrowded and bright. Over the dance floor, lasers reflect off a disco ball, turning the dark space into a virtual light show. Hungry bodies crash together all around us, creating a thick heat that could almost be cut through with a knife. I hold on to Eddie’s hand for dear life. I’m used to high school and college parties, but I’ve never been anywhere like this before.

  We reach the curtained-off VIP section, and my heart immediately sinks. There on the crisp white couch are Jace, Kyri, and the others, drinking and shouting over the cacophony behind us. Eddie leads me to a set of empty chairs near the group. A waiter approaches us, and Eddie orders a Scotch, neat. He orders me something called a Slippery Nipple. My hopes try to climb up the mountain one more time, but he brings them crashing down to the ground when he says:

  “Sorry for ordering such an explicit-sounding drink. It’s just the best shot on the menu. I figured we’d start you out light tonight, being a
newbie and all that.”

  I put on a smile and nod. I’m such an idiot. I don’t know why I ever thought Eddie would invite me out on our own. He said I could party with them, not that he wanted to date me. Lance bought me an expensive outfit for no reason.

  Fuck my life. Just when my new look was starting to grow on me.

  Eddie and I carry on pleasant small talk as we wait for our drinks. Apparently he’s not a fan of cold weather either. He thought Georgia’s heat would carry over to the winter months and was unpleasantly surprised. After we’ve talked for a while about the cold front that just came in, Eddie glances down at my legs. I know he wants to ask me why my legs are exposed. I have no answer, so I beg him inwardly not to ask the question. Just before he opens his mouth, our drinks arrive. I breathe a sigh of relief and immediately down the shot, amazed at how smoothly it goes down.

  “This is delicious,” I say, smiling at him.

  Eddie grins back at me. “I told you it was good. That’s Irish cream and Sambuca.”

  “It’s great.” I tip the glass up to get the last little bit of liquid that got caught at the bottom, disappointed when it’s gone. I would love to have this as a drink. “Can you get me another one?”

  “I’ll get you as many as you want, sweetheart,” Eddie says with a wink. He waves down the bartender. “Oi, another one for the lady.”

  The server brings me two more shots, and I start to feel lazy and silly. Being so small, it doesn’t take much at all to get me drunk. I needed something to get me through tonight, and this is more than enough.

  Suddenly, Eddie sets his empty glass on the table with a clunk and appears in front of me with his hand outstretched. “You wanna dance?” he asks. There’s a smile on his lips, but his eyes are guarded. Shaking off my curiosity at his odd expression, I nod and give him my hand. He pulls me to my feet.