Rock the Heart

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Rock the Heart Page 5

by Michelle A. Valentine


  My eyes widen. “He threw you out? Your mom let that happen?”

  Noel sighs. “She tried to stop him, but Dad was hell-bent on teaching me a lesson. The only thing he let me leave with was my car. Good thing that old Chevelle has a huge backseat. It was my home for quite a while.”

  “I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you call me? I would’ve let you stay with me at the dorm.” The thought of him getting dumped coupled with getting cut off causes an ache in my soul. He didn’t deserve to be tossed aside as if he didn’t matter.

  “I wanted to prove to you and my dad that I could succeed. That music wasn’t just some hobby for me.”

  “You certainly did that. You should be so proud of your success and tell us both to kiss your ass.”

  “I could never do that. That’s just not the kind of person I am.”

  He’s right. I could never picture him telling me or his father that, but I wouldn’t blame him if he did. I deserved it. We both did.

  “Fame’s a lonely life if you don’t have good people around you. People are so fake when fame hits. The only real family I’ve got is my band. These guys are my brothers. They know what all this is like.”

  “When’s the last time you spoke with your folks?” I ask.

  “I haven’t talked with my dad since the night he threw me out four years ago.”

  “That’s awful.” My heart breaks for him. “And your mother?”

  “Mom’s cool. She sneaks around and calls and emails me when she can. If it weren’t for her sneaking me money that first year I was on my own, I probably would have starved to death. Believe me, cheap, shitty noodles are the best meals ever when you’re starving and poor.”

  “I always wondered how rock stars stayed so skinny with all the beer they drink. The starvation diet should be marketed,” I say, trying to lighten his mood.

  He laughs. “You should totally head that up.” The tension in his voice melts away a little with my joke. I want to ask him a million things. So many questions linger in my mind about the possibility of fixing his relationship with his father. Some day I hope he’ll feel comfortable enough to share everything with me again, like he used to. For now, I’ll take whatever intimacies about his life he’s willing to give me without pushing too much.

  Chapter 7

  ––––––––

  The plane touches down smoothly at Columbus International Airport. I’ve never been to Ohio, never had a reason to go. Black Falcon is one of the headliners of a huge two-day rock festival. Noel assured me this is the largest rock event in the area. The sellout crowd is right around fifty thousand people. The sheer volume alone is crazy.

  I grab my bag from the overhead bin after I text Noel that I’ve arrived. He insisted on picking me up himself even though I told him I’m cool with taking a cab. My flight arrived early in the morning—for rockers who sleep until noon.

  My phone chirps, and I read his message: I’m at baggage claim. It’s crazy here. Don’t answer anything.

  Two women ahead of me on the escalator complain about the crowd gathered around the baggage claim carousel. Camera flashes illuminate the center of the mob, and my heart thumps. There he is, signing autographs and shaking hands. Noel’s dark hair is wild, sticking up in every direction, as though he just got out of bed. What is it about crazy rocker hair that is so incredibly sexy? Dark glasses shield his face and emotions from his steady stream of onlookers, but I can tell he’s flustered. I didn’t realize how little privacy he actually has.

  Zero. He can’t even go to the airport without a frenzy of fans.

  Noel glances up from the chaos and notices me. A huge smile spreads across his face. I feel myself grin, and I instantly want to kick myself. Keep it together, Lanie.

  How attractive he is is undeniable—even more in person than on the net or TV. The entire flock of girls in our high school crushed on him. Back then, I never figured out why he was so into me. I’m a Plain Jane—a nobody. Now that feeling is magnified times a million.

  He squeezes through his adoring fans. A couple of girls shove their chests against him when he tries to get past, but it doesn’t faze him. Noel watches me with every step he takes. His arm wraps around my waist and pull me tight when I step off the escalator. He smells so good—like soap, spice, and man all rolled into one.

  “Hey you,” Noel whispers in my ear, and his hot breath caresses my sensitive skin. “Don’t say a word to the leeches, okay?”

  I nod, and his rough stubble rubs against my cheek. We gather my luggage, and Noel slings my duffel bag over his shoulder and picks up my suitcase before we head toward the exit. Bodies shove from every direction to get closer to Noel. The air outside is heavy, and my chest tightens. The sooner I can get out of here, the better.

  What do these people want? The female fans are relentless—screaming and begging for pictures even when Noel politely tells them no. Men with high-tech cameras shout his name and ask him to look their way. A crowd smothers our every step.

  Noel’s long fingers find my hand and pull me against him. It takes us longer than five minutes to make it to a black SUV by the door. We’re greeted by the large man I saw at the restaurant in New York as he holds the fans back. Noel opens the trunk and throws my bags in before ushering me inside the vehicle.

  When the driver pulls the SUV away from the corner, Noel lets out a sigh of relief and pats my leg. His skin is so warm and inviting, which is dangerous. “Sorry about that. I should’ve had security come in with me, but I figured fans wouldn’t see me if I just ran in to get you.”

  I shove his hand off my bare thigh and curse myself for wearing shorts. “It’s fine.”

  His eyes gaze into mine as he leans his head back against the headrest. “You made it through your first fan attack. Think you can handle all this? My life isn’t exactly sane anymore.” His expression is serious. He’s asking me if I can put up with the craziness and make it on his tour for two whole weeks.

  I inspect my arms under his stare. “I escaped your mob of female admirers without one scratch, so I think I’ll live.”

  Noel grins—clearly pleased with my answer—and leans in to kiss my cheek. “I’ve missed you.”

  Warmth spreads clear down to my toes. The things a simple kiss from this man can do to me are unreal. Being so hot and sweet should be against the law. It’s definitely an instant panty-wetting combination. Damn it. I’m in trouble. “Kisses aren’t very professional.”

  He bursts out in laughter and pats my thigh again. “I kind of like this whole hard-to-get game. It’s going to make the sex that much better.”

  I remove his hand from my leg and shake my head. He isn’t giving up. When we arrive at the Crew Stadium a few minutes later, my eyes widen at the number of people milling about at ten o’clock in the morning. “Why are they all here so early?”

  Noel instructs the driver to Black Falcon’s tour bus. “There are forty-four bands here playing over two days. The first band plays at noon. It’s one massive party for the bands and the fans. There aren’t many events like this one.”

  The SUV pulls up alongside the tour bus, and Noel hops out. I sit there frozen. Do I get out now? This is so not my element.

  Noel waves at a couple of tattooed guys I recognize from the Black Falcon pictures I’ve seen. He walks around to my side of the SUV and opens my door. “Come on. I want you to meet some of the guys in the band.”

  I take Noel’s hand and allow him to help me out. Butterflies tumble around in my stomach. How could I be so nervous? I should have prepared myself for meeting these guys. What if they totally hate the idea of me staying on the bus with them? We approach the two men with my hand still in Noel’s firm grasp. I try to pull away, but he tightens his hold. Apparently I’m not getting away from him.

  The guy with jet-black hair and a bandanna tied around his head looks up and elbows the blond guy. They both grin as we approach.

  “You didn’t tell us she was unbelievably hot, Noel,” Bandanna Guy says
.

  My eyes drop to the ground, and I run my hand through my hair. I can’t believe he just called me hot. No guy has ever called me hot. Well, Noel has, but we have history together. Most guys just refer to me as cute or pretty but never hot. Are all rock stars so freaking forward?

  Noel punches the guy in the shoulder. “Don’t be a douche, Trip. Lane, this asshole is Trip Douglas, one of the best drummers in the business.”

  Trip shakes my hand and glances at Noel with a cocky grin. “The best fucking drummer in the business.”

  The blond guy beside Trip chuckles and looks at me. “Noel’s right. Trip is kind of an asshole. Unfortunately, I’ve always had to put up with him. Tyke Douglas.” Tyke holds out his hand. “The asshole is my brother. My twin actually, but please don’t hold that against me. And, oh yeah, I play bass.”

  I smile at both of them. Now that he mentioned they’re twins, I can totally see the resemblance. The stark contrasts of hair color make them look completely different. Noel’s hand grazes the small of my back. “Lanie Vance. It’s very nice to meet you both.”

  Tyke looks at Noel. “She’s too sweet. You sure you want to bring her on that bus with us?”

  Trip laughs. “Especially around Riff. You better not turn your back, bro. He’ll be all over that shit.”

  Riff, the lead guitarist, is a well-known womanizer. He is the epitome of rock star. He’s covered in tattoos and piercings, and his Mohawk alternates between blond and black. It’s crazy, but the girls seem to go nuts over him. There are always pictures of Riff licking, kissing, or whatevering strippers and randomly naked groupies on the internet. He’s kind of disgusting. Riff’s antics are one of the main reasons the band got so much attention at first, but Noel’s made plenty of headlines in that area too. The Douglas brothers obviously don’t know that I would never go for someone like that.

  Noel tenses. “Riff knows better. Lane is off limits.”

  Trip and Tyke look at each other with raised eyebrows. I get the distinct feeling that Riff knows no boundaries. Whatever they’re thinking, it isn’t going to happen. I am not having sex on this bus with Riff...or anyone for that matter. We say good-bye to the guys and grab my bags from the SUV. Noel insists on carrying them into the bus.

  He stretches out his arm and invites me up the steps. “Welcome aboard Big Bertha.”

  Big Bertha is a mess. It’s a huge R.V. with a full sitting area, cluttered kitchen, and beer cans stacked everywhere. The sink is full of dishes, and the garbage can is stuffed to the brim. The stench of sweaty man and rotten food makes my stomach turn. It’s almost bad enough to make me want to turn around and run off the bus. I could follow them in a car, couldn’t I?

  “Now, I know what you’re thinking, but I promise we’ll get it cleaned up. It’s not always this bad. Being on the road without stopping tends to make the place a disaster.” He smiles at me. “Come on. Let’s take your bags to my bedroom.”

  I freeze mid-step. “Your bedroom? I thought you were kidding.”

  “Where else would you sleep? The four bunks are taken. You could sleep in one of the swivel seats up front. Trust me, my room is the best place. Come on.” He grabs my hand and pulls me toward the back of the bus. I follow Noel. “The bunk beds with curtains are where Riff, Trip, Tyke, an my bodyguard, Mike, sleep. Being the leader gives me special rights to the only bedroom.”

  I roll my eyes. I’m sure he shoves his status in their faces anytime he can, just like he does to me. We step inside the bedroom, and I’m surprised by its tidiness. The full-size bed takes up most of the room, but some stage drawers are built into the walls and under the bed.

  “Put your clothes wherever you can find room. I know it’s tight in here, but it’s better than sleeping in the little foxholes. They can make anyone feel claustrophobic.” He shuts the door, trapping us, and wraps his arms around me. I tense as I breathe in the spicy scent and the unmistakable smell of Noel. “Now that I have you all to myself, let me give you a proper hello.”

  I place my hand against his chest. “This isn’t how it’s going to work. I didn’t agree to this deal to be your sex slave.”

  He backs me against the door and places a hand on either side of me, trapping me. My arm feels like Jell-O as I try to hold him back. I swallow hard as he leans in and traces his nose along my jaw. “Sex slave? Hmmmmm, I kind of like the sound of that.”

  I shove him back a little and shake my head. “Don’t get any ideas. That isn’t happening. I came here for business, remember?”

  He threads his fingers into my hair. “I don’t see why we can’t mix a little pleasure in too. Don’t you remember how hot we were together? God.” He takes a quick breath through clenched teeth and runs his hand down my side. “The things I can do to your body if you’d let me.”

  My nerves jitter. Noel’s skin is so warm, and I swear he’s leaving a trail of fire in his wake. Fire spreads from my core, causing an ache I didn’t know was possible. I’ve dreamt of his touch for four years. I want him so much, but I can’t let this happen. If I give in, he’ll tire of me quickly, and not only will my heart break, but my dreams for a killer job will be crushed.

  He takes a strand of my hair between his fingers. The corners of his lips turn up, and he tucks the loose hair behind my ear. His fingertips linger on my cheek. “You look exactly the same. Still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.” He brings his lips toward mine. Warmth from his breath touches my face, and all I can think about is his kiss. What it will feel like? Will it be just like old times?

  “You don’t look so bad yourself.” My heart thunders, and I bite my lip.

  “You know I’ve never been great at resisting beautiful women.” Noel’s eyes search my face.

  I should tell him to back off. Saying no right away would be smart, but I stare deep into his blue eyes and I can’t kid myself. I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my entire life. Resisting him is so damn hard. “I—I don’t think—”

  Noel cradles my face. A smile flirts along his lips. “Don’t think, Lane, just feel.”

  That’s the problem. If I feel too much for him, this won’t end well. I can’t let this happen. “We should really get to work.”

  He rubs his nose against mine. “One kiss and I’ll behave all day.”

  I swallow hard and try to pretend the mere touch of his skin isn’t sending my body into overdrive. If he only knew the effect he’s having on me right now. It’s been far too long since I’d been with a guy—over a year, actually. He’s lucky I don’t strip him down here and now. I shake that thought out of my head, and Noel pulls back a little. I say, “That can’t happen. I don’t have those kinds of feeling for you anymore.”

  He raises an eyebrow, and his grin turns wicked. “Are you sure about that? Don’t forget, I know you. I know how you tick and what you”—his eyes scan the length of my body, lingering on my breasts—“want.”

  Damn him. I shove his chest. “You’re wrong.”

  Noel laughs as he pushes away from the wall and gestures me farther into the room. “Well if you’re sure you don’t require any further assistance from me, I’ll leave you to it. But...if you change your mind—”

  “I won’t,” I snap and step past him. I can’t even look at the smug expression I know he’s wearing.

  He chuckles while he lets himself out of the bedroom, and I let out a sigh of relief.

  Chapter 8

  ––––––––

  Five Finger Death Punch rocks out hard on the stage, and the audience is insane. I count at least five mosh pits not far from the front row. Girls sit on guys’ shoulders and flash their bare breasts at the band while the crowd eggs them on. Some must’ve gotten tired of tops altogether and sit there without a shirt while rocking out. Crazy.

  Some sort of wild energy in the air has everyone hyped. Even I feel it, and I bob my head to the beat. Now I know what Noel is talking about. This is a major rock event, and everyone is enjoying themselves to the fullest. S
ome sort of spell sucks you into the moment here.

  Backstage is busy as well. There are people everywhere I turn. I recognize a few of the bands from music videos or tour posters I’ve seen, but the rest of the people are faceless strangers. A few giddy female fans mill about and gush over their favorite bands, and I smile every time one of them mentions Black Falcon. Those girls don’t bother me much. They seem harmless. I don’t think they’re backstage to attempt to get in the band members’ pants.

  The hardcore groupies and strippers, on the other hand, have a different agenda. It’s as if they’re on a mission to get laid by the most famous guy that will have them. A few of them even hit on the female rockers. Pathetic, really. What would drive a woman to want to be used for sex so badly? They must have some serious Daddy issues.

  A crowd gathers by the steps to the stage area where I am. Cameras flash, and I strain to see if Noel’s back from his band meeting. People cram in tightly, pushing to gain every inch they can toward their target. Riff makes it to the top step while he signs autographs and kisses female admirers. I sigh—still no Noel. I tilt my head, curious as to what it is about Riff that drives the girls wild. I just can’t figure it out.

  Sure, he’s really cute, even a blind woman can see that, but that alone wouldn’t make me want to sleep with him. What kind of person is he? I don’t judge, but I’m not going to sleep with a person based off looks alone. I’m no slut.

  Security cuts the girls off on the stage. “Sorry, ladies, this area is off limits.”

  The girls all whine and beg to follow Riff. My eyes dart to Riff, and he smiles when he catches me staring at him. He walks toward me, his eyes never leaving me once.

  “Damn, you’re sexy,” Riff says as his eyes rake slowly over my body. His gaze stops on my breasts. I narrow my eyes at him. He doesn’t seem the least bit bothered that I have the look of red death pointed directly at him. He pulls a piece of gold paper from his pocket. “This Golden Ticket grants you access to my pants when our set is over. Hold on to it tight and give it to the security that guards the buses. They’ll let you through. I only give away one or two of those a night. Consider yourself a lucky lady.”

 

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