Rock the Heart

by Michelle A. Valentine

  He stuffs the paper into my hands, and I furrow my brows. Is he serious? Does he think that just because he shoves some gold paper in my hand I’ll instantly drop my panties for him? I shake my head and try to hand him back the paper. “No thanks.”

  “Not interested?” Riff laughs. “Sweetie, that’s cute, but you don’t have to play hard to get. I know why you’re back here, and I can guarantee there’s no better time to be had than the one you’ll get with me.” He licks his lip and runs his hand down my arm. His skin on mine makes my blood boil. How dare he think he can just touch me like that?

  I slap the paper into his chest. “I’m waiting for someone, you asshole. I’m not some random fucking groupie.”

  Surprise registers on his face and then a slow grin. “You’re feisty. I like that.” He tilts his head. “What a shame. We could’ve been pretty awesome together. You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

  I huff as Riff lets the paper fall. It lands by his feet, and he smirks before he turns and walks away. What I wouldn’t give for murder to be legal. I should kill that asshole for the benefit of all womankind.

  Noel finds me about ten minutes after my run-in with Riff. At first I think about telling Noel, but I decide against it. Their chemistry has to be on point in front of this many people. I can always tell him about it later. Besides, I’m sure Riff will feel like a jackass when he discovers who I am.

  Noel’s white T-shirt strains against his chest and biceps as he wraps his arms around me. “Are you going to watch my set?”

  I try to pull his arms away, but Noel grins and squeezes me tighter. I sigh. “Not if you keep manhandling me.”

  His laugh rumbles in his chest, and our pelvises smash together. “I think if you keep rubbing against me like that, I’m going to take you back to the bus and fuck you right now.”

  I raise an eyebrow and fight the urge to smack his smug face. “You wish. Besides, if you disappoint your fans, they might just fire your conceited ass.”

  Noel’s hands cup my face. He leans in for a kiss but stops just inches from my lips when I resist. He licks his lips. “It might just be worth it.”

  A laugh escapes me, and I immediately cover my mouth. My eyes widen as I realize I’ve let my tough shell crack a bit. He’s so damn forward and it’s kind of comical.

  He growls and pulls me against his warm body. “You know it drives me crazy when you giggle.” He cups my butt and presses the bulge in his pants against me. “See what you did? How am I supposed to go in front of fifty thousand people like this?”

  I laugh and pull away. “Not my problem. You’ll just have to hide it behind your guitar.”

  An impatient stage manager appears out of nowhere. “Noel, we need you in position.”

  Noel takes a heavy breath. “Okay, gotta go. See you after we’re done.”

  He smiles and heads toward the stage. Another giggle bubbles out of me when he adjusts his pants and picks up his guitar. Poor Noel. Smug satisfaction, mixed with a little guilt, surges through me. My eyes glue onto Noel’s backside until he’s out of sight. I must admit his butt is really nice. Okay, okay—it’s damn near perfect. No wonder so many women lust after him.

  The crowd chants for Black Falcon to take the stage. It’s not surprising considering people really love Noel’s band. They’re one of the most-played bands on the charts. Noel’s dream of millions of people hearing his music has most definitely arrived. Some critics say they could be one of the next greats, throwing them in line with bands like the Beatles, Queen, Aerosmith—bands that changed the face of music. I always knew Noel was great, but I never realized how great until the rest of the world discovered him. It’s as if he walks on water to his fans. The band is his life, and I couldn’t be happier he allowed me back into his world, considering I dumped him after graduation.

  I take a couple steps toward the stage. It’s definitely the best spot in the stadium to watch a Black Falcon performance. A woman with bright red hair, whom I recognize from the music video channel, steps out on to the stage. She’s this weekend’s host and hops from stage to stage introducing the bands. The crowd roars as she waves to them, wearing her skin-tight black leather pants and halter top.

  She brings the mic to her lips and asks, “Are you fuckers ready for one of the best damn bands at this festival!”

  I scream along with the crowd.

  “These guys are one of my personal favorites, not to mention they look pretty fucking amazing, too. Right, ladies?” She pauses for crowd reaction. “Give it up for BLACK FALCON!”

  Trip takes the stage first and throws up a metal sign. People scream as the black-haired rocker takes his seat and gives the bass drum a kick. Tyke comes out second and picks up his bass guitar. Screams erupt when he thumps out a couple cords. The twin brothers look at each other and smile as though they have a secret, and it drives the fans nuts.

  Riff and Noel come onstage together. My eardrums feel as though they’re about to explode from the sheer volume in the stadium. Noel glances my way, and I wave. Riff, still clueless, smirks at me and wiggles his tongue while his back is to Noel.

  Dear God, does that asshole think I’m here for him? I roll my eyes at Riff, and he smiles before he puckers his lips. He just doesn’t get it and won’t take no for an answer.

  The band kicks up and plays their intro song. I do my best to stare past Riff and watch Noel, but every time Riff sees me, he makes sexual gestures of some kind—once even thrusting his hips while stroking his guitar. The crowd loves it, of course, but I’m about five seconds from losing the bagel I ate on the airplane.

  Noel leans into the mic and wraps both hands around it. He licks his lips and closes his eyes. The red stage lights on him causes stirs in me. It’s as if it highlights him as the most sexually pleasing man I know. My knees buckle when he belts out a love song. The audience sings along to every word. I sway to the beat but never take my eyes off of him.

  Something flies onstage at Noel’s feet. I look down and realize it’s a thong. Women are actually throwing their disgusting panties at him. Several more join the first one at Noel’s feet.

  Riff steps up to his mic. “That’s what I like to see. Horny women! Damn.” He points into the crowd. “You fuckers better not let all that pussy go to waste. Now show me some titties.”

  Men throughout the place cheer and chant, “GET NAKED! GET NAKED!”

  A couple girls near the front row climb onto guys’ shoulders, rip off their tops, and shake their boobs at Riff and Noel. My fists clench, and I have half a mind to go yank them down and ask just where do they get off shoving their breasts in Noel’s face. Thankfully Noel just shakes his head at Riff and laughs. I relax a little. I remind myself that this is part of Noel’s life. It’s all an act. He won’t be screwing around with those girls later just because they flashed him. I walked in on him with those two sluts back in Houston, but I don’t think he’d do that now that I’m here. Would he?

  Riff, on the other hand, I’m not so sure about. Several times when I spoke to Noel after a show, he’d told me Riff had some random groupie in his foxhole with him. I could even hear the girls screaming in pleasure. It was disgusting.

  Riff glances at Noel, points at one topless girl, and nods. “Now that’s what I’m talking about!”

  I shake my head. Riff is a complete sex fiend. The only reason he’s in a band is probably for the women. Noel’s smooth voice shoots over the crowd. I close my eyes. It’s like a beautiful lullaby. For a hard-rock band, they could sure play a sweet ballad.

  I open my eyes, and my gaze locks on Noel’s. He sings about the love of a good woman, and I feel a blush creep up my neck. When the chorus hits, he breaks our stare and faces the audience. Cell phones light up across the sea of people, and they dance like fireflies at dusk. The song ends, and the crowd roars until Trip pounds out a fast beat. Tyke and Riff join in, and the next song zings to life.

  Noel’s voice changes to the signature growl he likes to use when
the band rocks out. He yanks the mic off the stand and bends at the waist to belt out a note. The crowd hypes up when he runs from one corner of the stage to the next. Girls stretch out their arms, hoping to touch him, and guys reach out for a high five. Everyone wants a piece of him.

  The song ends, but the guys play an extra few bars to allow Noel time to thank the crowd before they wrap up their set. Tyke waves to the fans before he heads offstage. Riff throws out guitar picks, and Trip wings his sticks out to the people in the back. Noel wipes his face with a white hand towel that he tosses into the mass of people. About ten fans shove and grab for the towel before one lucky guy yanks it into his grasp. The life of a rock star is unreal.

  Big Bertha is quiet when Noel and I climb inside, which is a relief. We had to fight our way through a ton of screaming women on the other side of security. Those guys in the yellow shirts put up with a lot of crap to protect the stars.

  Noel’s sweat-drenched shirt clings to his sculpted chest. His fohawk is a flat disaster. “I need to go shower. I’ll only be a few minutes. Wait for me right here?” He brings my right hand up to his lips and kisses my fingertips.

  A rush of warmth spreads through me before I pull away. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Noel grins before he rushes off toward the small bathroom on the bus. My stomach rumbles. I’ve forgotten to eat during the midst of this crazy day. I step over to the kitchen area and open a couple of cabinet doors. No food. What do these guys live on? Beer? I bend down to check the bottom shelves.

  “I knew you’d be here.”

  I hear the door slam shut and stand to face Riff.

  “The ladies never turn down the Golden Ticket.” Riff’s arm stretches above his head as he balances his weight against a top cabinet. He’s shirtless, and I can clearly see the tattoos across his arms and chest. Both of his nipples are pierced, along with his bottom lip, and his hair still stands in his trademark Mohawk. A slow grin pulls across his face as I pull at the legs of my shorts, hoping to cover some more skin. His eyes trace the curves of my body. He pulls his arm down and takes a step.

  I hold out my hand, palm up. “Stop right there.”

  Riff reaches out for my hand, but I snatch it away. “Baby, I told you. No need to play hard to get. I won’t tell anyone that you fucked me.”

  My eyes widen. “You’re really full of yourself, you know that?”

  He smirks. “Only when it comes to women.”

  I roll my eyes. “I hate to break it to you, but not every woman on the planet is willing to sleep with you.”

  “Maybe.” He shrugs. “But I can tell that you want me.” He takes another step toward me, and I try to back away.

  I bump against the cabinets behind me. I shove my hand into his chest and shake my head. “No, I don’t want you. I’m here with—”

  “Shhhhhhhhhhhhh.” Riff strokes my shoulder. “No more talking.”

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Noel growls from the hallway, wearing a low-slung towel while water beads speckle his chest.

  Riff jumps at the sound of Noel’s voice. He releases me and steps back. His eyes lock on my face. “You’re Lanie?”

  I nod and glance at Noel. “I tried to tell you I was with someone when you first tried to shove that ticket thing in my hand.”

  Noel’s eyes narrow at Riff. “You gave her one of your fucking Golden Tickets? I’m going to fucking kill you.” Noel lunges at Riff, but he reacts just quickly enough to stay out of Noel’s grasp.

  I throw my hands against Noel’s chest. “It’s okay. Let it go. He made a mistake.” I point my glare at Riff. “Right?”

  Riff stares Noel down. “Yeah, we wouldn’t want to accidently steal each other’s woman, would we?” Riff’s tone makes me flinch.

  The muscles in Noel’s jaw clench. “You stay away from her. Or so help me God, Riff, I will end you.”

  I swallow hard. I’ve never seen pure malice until now. Noel’s expression and body language clearly says he wants to rip off Riff’s head and spit down his throat. The tension between them can’t honestly be about me, can it? It feels more personal than just a case of mistaken identity. Riff and Noel stare each other down. There’s obviously some bad history between these two, and I’ve just added fuel to the fire. Something has to give. I can’t let the band struggle because of me. The situation needs to be diffused.

  I pull on Noel’s arm. He tilts his head and gazes at me. I grab his hand and tug him toward the bedroom. “Come on. I want to show you something.”

  Noel stares at Riff, as if he’s debating on if he should just pummel him and get it over with. Finally, he nods and follows me down the hallway, leaving Riff alone in the front of the bus.

  In the bedroom, Noel sits on the edge of the bed while I close the door. He drops his head and combs his hand through his thick, dark hair. The bed gives a little when I sit beside him. His back is smooth and clean, and I run my fingers along it in attempts to comfort him. The smell of soap lingers on his skin. He doesn’t respond to my touch—his gaze points toward the floor.

  I stare at the star tattoo on his right shoulder. “It’s going to be okay. He didn’t realize who I am, and I doubt he’ll do it again.”

  Noel rubs his palms together. “You don’t know him like I do. Riff doesn’t stop until he gets what he wants, including women. I won’t let him use you like that.”

  I want to laugh. Doesn’t he know me at all? “He’s not going to get me. I’m not like the random sluts he’s used to seeing you with.”

  Blue eyes meet mine. “No, you’re not.” He searches my face, and his brow pulls in. He opens his mouth then closes it and turns away. “You better get ready. One hell of a party is about to go down.”

  Chapter 9

  ––––––––

  I wiggle a bit between Noel and Riff in the back of the SUV on the way to a humongous after-party for all the bands who performed at Rock on the Range. The A&R Music Bar in Columbus hosts the bash for millionaire bad-boy rock stars, roadies, and of course, their groupies. It takes forever to get close to the building. Hoards of people surround the bar, hoping to catch a glimpse of their favorite rock stars, and are blocking traffic halfway down the street.

  When the vehicle finally stops near the back entrance, Mike, Noel’s bodyguard from the restaurant, hops out and opens the door for us. Trip and Tyke grin at each other before emerging into the mass of fans. They love the attention. They hug several screaming females and even stop to sign a couple of bare boobs thrust in their direction. Riff looks at me and winks before he jumps out.

  I roll my eyes. Of course he would love this. I slide over to follow Riff, and Noel lays his hand on top of mine.

  He says, “Stay by me in here. Shit like this gets crazy. Don’t accept drinks from anyone other than me or Mike. There are real assholes who would love to get in your pants.”

  I raise my eyebrow. “They can’t be any worse than you.”

  His mouth pulls into a tight line. “You have no idea.”

  Inside, the club is like something out of a music video. Bodies writhe to the beat of the rock song echoing throughout the room. Strobe lights flash in every direction, and women wearing bikinis dance in cages. One woman next to me reaches through the bars and strokes my arm. Her touch catches me off guard, and I instinctively jerk away. Noel chuckles beside me.

  I narrow my eyes at him. “So not funny.”

  His smile widens. “Get used to it, babe. When you’re with me, everyone’s going to want a piece of you.”

  “Gross.”

  He throws his arms around me and leans into my ear. “What’s it like to know you’re with the one guy in this room every woman wants to fuck?”

  I shove him away from my ear. “Not every woman.” I storm away from him. Even over the blaring music, I hear his laugh, and I clench my fists tight. I don’t remember him being so stuck on himself. I step up to the bar and order a beer.

  “Trouble in paradise?” I glance over to
find Riff leaning against the bar.

  Great. I’m so not in the mood for another jackass. I roll my eyes and take my beer from the smiling brunette behind the counter. “No trouble...and definitely no paradise. This is just a job.”

  “Ah, the charity, right?” Riff’s brown eyes twinkle. “How’s that going?”

  I pick at the label on the bottle. “Pretty much non-existent at the moment. Noel keeps putting off hammering out the details about the literacy program. That’s the whole reason I’m here—to get the marketing off the ground.”

  Riff nods. “He’s thinking ahead, I’ll give him that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’s stringing you along for as long as he can until he gets what he wants from you. The more information he gives you about the charity, the sooner you can leave and go back to New York. You two have some history, so you’re a challenge to him. That’s a game he hasn’t had to play for quite some time. He tends to always get what he wants.”

  I shake my head. “Yeah, well, what he wants from me, he isn’t going to get.”

  Riff smiles. “That’s good to know.” He nods toward the dance floor. “Want to dance?”

  I turn toward the sea of people, and my eyes fixate on a couple practically molesting each other right in plain view of everyone. They grind their pelvises together, leaving little to the imagination of what a night in their bedroom would be like. How can people do that in public? I shake my head. “Um, no, thanks.”

  He runs his fingers along my arm, and I tense. “Come on, Lanie. I won’t bite.”

  I shake my head, but before I can answer, I’m dragged away by the other arm. Noel’s eyes are hard when he looks at Riff. The pure hate doesn’t seem to faze Riff, though. He lifts his beer and gives Noel a small nod. Why do I feel as if I’m in the middle of a childish game of tug-of-war?