Rock the Heart

by Michelle A. Valentine

  The crowd loved them, screaming and interacting with the band. Women seemed to go crazy for the longhaired British front man. He got nearly as may panties tossed at him as Riff and I.

  “Goodnight, Nashville!” Striker screamed over the microphone before he waved and exited the stage towards us.

  The moment his eyes locked on Lane, a grin broke out across his face.

  “Lane, it’s good to see you. I’m excited to see what that marketing brain of yours comes up with for the line.”

  “Thank you for the opportunity. It’ll look great on my resume,” Lane answered.

  “No problem, love.” He smiled at her.

  My jaw muscle clenched. I hated when he called her that, and didn’t care if it was part of his British slang. It seemed too personal. And that smile. I was ready to knock it off his face.

  As if on cue, Lane’s cell phone rang with her special “Your mother’s calling” ringtone. “I’m sorry. I have to take this.”

  She stepped away from us to take the call privately and I watched as Striker’s eyes followed her. My blood boiled beneath my skin.

  “I’m on to you.”

  He snapped his gaze back to me and smirked. “Oh, yeah? Better be on your bloody toes then, mate.”

  My eyes narrowed and I closed the gap between us. “Watch it, fucker. I didn’t get to finish the job last time.”

  Striker tipped his head up and stared at me. “It wasn’t quite a fair fight last time. Let’s see you try it when my back isn’t turned.”

  Air rushed through my nostrils as I took a huge breath. Adrenaline flowed through my veins. This guy needed ending.

  “Hey!” Lane’s voice rang in my ears as she shoved between us. “What’s going on here?”

  Striker stepped back. “Ask your boyfriend,” he said before turning and walking away. “Lane, we’ll be in touch.”

  She furrowed her brow at me the moment Striker was out of earshot. “What the hell, Noel? You promised.”

  She started to storm away, but I caught her arm. “Wait, Lane. I’m sorry, but the things he was saying—”

  “Don’t mean a thing! Regardless of his intentions, you need to trust me. Have faith in my love for you.”

  My heart pounded in my chest as I dropped her arm and allowed her to walk away. She was right. Relationships were built on trust, and I sure as hell didn’t want mine to crumble just because I was being an overbearing control freak.

  I ran my fingers through my hair as I watched her leave.

  “Ten minutes, Mr. Falcon,” the stage manager said as he walked by me.

  “Okay, yeah,” I answered numbly as a thousand thoughts of how I’d nearly just screwed up my relationship with Lane went through my mind.

  The entire set it was hard for me to focus. When, on our fourth song, I screwed up the lyrics, Riff’s gaze whipped in my direction, and he crinkled his brow. Fighting with Lane always fucked with my head. I needed to get my shit together.

  The crowd roared as I belted out the chorus of the last song. Sweat dripped down my face and back as I ran to each side of the stage and hyped them up. Their fists pumped in the air to the beat pounded out by Trip. The stage lights beamed down on me as I gripped the mic and sang one last note of Ball Busting Bitch—our biggest hit so far.

  The drums got a few more kicks and then silence took over.

  “Thank you, Nashville!”

  I wiped my face with a white towel and tossed it into the air. It landed about fifteen feet into the crowd and instantly the shoving began. It always puzzled me why people would fight over a towel covered in my sweat.

  Riff threw his arm around my neck as I walked off stage. “What’s up, buddy? Want to talk about it?”

  Sometimes I hated how he knew when shit was up with me. Riff had always been the guy in the band I went to when things were on my mind, and I could tell him anything, but it was hard to admit hard to admit to him that I was still having woman problems. I was sure he was sick of hearing this from me by now.

  Finally I shook my head. “Nah, man it’s cool. Just a little off tonight, you know.”

  He dropped his arm from around my shoulders. “Okay, but if you need to talk, you know where to find me.”

  “Thanks, but really, I’m cool.”

  There was no need to drag him into this mess.

  Once he was convinced I was good, he took off. Normally I would have put money on him going off to find some random groupie for the night, but from what I’d heard, Riff seemed to be really into Aubrey. I guess we’d see just how serious he was about Lane’s friend.

  After I fought my way through the fans, I told Kyle to take a break for the rest of the evening. I needed to talk things over with Lane, preferably alone.

  The bus was quiet. The rest of the guys were still at large, living out the high of being on stage. Sometimes it was tough to work off all of that adrenaline without blowing off a little steam. My go-to relief used to be the arms of random women. But those days were nothing but a distant memory. Ones I would love to forget.

  “Lane?” I called down the hall. “Are you in here?”

  When she didn’t answer, I panicked. Where could she be? Even though I hated myself for thinking it, the first place or person she might have been with was Striker. She just yelled at me for not trusting her, and here I was letting crazy images of my worst fear cloud my better judgment.

  The foxholes were empty. So far, I hadn’t seen another soul on this bus.

  The bedroom door was partially closed. With a slightly shaky hand, I pushed it open. There was no sign of her. The bed was still perfectly made, and our luggage was still zipped up tight.

  I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck. When was I ever going to stop fucking up with this girl?

  Behind me, the bus door closed with a thud. I whirled around and my gaze landed on Lane. Her green eyes were puffy, like she’d been crying since the last moment I’d seen her. Without thinking about it, I made a beeline for her, wrapping my arms around her tiny waist and burying my face in her dark curls. She sobbed as she threw her arms around my neck and held onto me just as tightly as I held on to her.

  “I’m so sorry, Lane. I trust you, I do, but Striker just gets under my skin. The things he was insinuating about you...It’s him I don’t trust, but I need to learn to trust that you’d knee him square in the balls if he tried shit with you.”

  She laughed at my lame attempt to be funny while I apologized.

  “I’m sorry too. I should always have your back, and I’m sorry I didn’t give you a chance to explain yourself. I won’t take the job if bothers you that much.”

  I pulled back and cupped her face. “No. Take the job. I’ll try harder to be understanding and trust your judgment.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered before I kissed her lips and proceeded to finish making it up to her.

  Chapter 9

  After Lane went to bed, I spent the better part of the night researching engagement rings. There were tons of really fancy rings but for some reason the simplistic styles spoke to me the most. They were the ones that practically screamed Lane at me. I wanted a very classic two-carat diamond ring set in white gold First thing in the morning, I called the local jeweler and told him exactly what I wanted, and they assured me they could hook me up. After that, I texted Kyle and told him I would need his help distracting Lane. When he asked why, I answered with the truth. If anyone would understand what it was like to really be in love, it was Kyle.

  After he agreed to help me, Lane and I headed out with him for a little shopping. She wanted a new pair of sandals, and I had my mission to somehow covertly buy the ring. Sales people were always eager to please.

  “It’s nice to feel normal for a change,” Lane said, sitting next to me in the back of the Escalade.

  Kyle laughed from the front. “You mean getting chased by hoards of screaming women isn’t normal? After only being here a few weeks, I was starting to believe that was an everyday occurrence.”

>   “Hang around Black Falcon long enough, and it definitely does become an everyday thing,” she teased.

  I rolled my eyes. As much as I didn’t like to admit it, there was truth in their words. It was very difficult to feel normal and not allow the day in and day out fame to go to my head. When the band had taken off, I’d almost felt invincible, like no one could touch me or hurt me. I’d been on top of the world, and everybody wanted me.

  Well, not the people I’d really wanted to want me, like Lane...and my own father.

  My head slumped against the seat. Every time my thoughts focused on my father my spirits plummeted. Why didn’t he love me? Was having a dream so wrong that you’d wish your only son had never been born?

  Well, according to my asshole father, the answer was yes.

  The night Lane dumped my ass out on the dock, I’d been a wreck. I’d destroyed my room and smashed my guitar. All of it meant nothing without her. She was my world, even back then, and without her it was a very dark place. Dad had shown no sympathy for me. In fact, he’d even voiced how smart Lane had been to get rid of a loser like me before I ruined her life.

  That hurt, but the crushing blow came when he’d said he regretted having me at all. To hear your own parent express pure hatred for you was something you never forget. Lane had broached the subject of making up with my father for my mother’s sake, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

  What did I have to apologize for?

  “Hey. You okay?” Lane asked, her face etched with concern.

  “I’m fine, just tired,” I lied.

  I didn’t want Lane or anybody to know how much not having a relationship with my father bothered me. It was better for people to think I hated him versus being the sad, pathetic sap not even a parent could love.

  Kyle parked along the street, smack between the jewelry store and the shoe store. It was nearly the perfect set up. Now the trick was going to be getting in and out of there without Lane getting suspicious, or figuring out what I was doing. She hated when I did things that she thought pushed our relationship too fast and she’d kill me if she knew what I was up to.

  But regardless, having this ring would show her I meant business.

  “This is perfect, Kyle. Thanks,” I said.

  He flicked his gaze to the review mirror, and he nodded, understanding my secret code.

  I helped Lane out of the SUV when, right on cue, my cell rang. I peered down at the caller ID and frowned.

  “I have to take this. You guys go on in. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  I kissed Lane’s cheek as Kyle led her into the shoe store. As soon as Lane turned her back I swiped my thumb over the end call button and pressed the phone to my ear. It really was a touch of pure genius when I arranged Kyle to call my cell just outside the store. A phone call was a believable diversion to distract Lane long enough for me to get the ring, without rousing suspicion.

  Less than thirty seconds later, I stepped inside the jewelers. The privately owned store was small, but there were amazing looking pieces inside the glass showcases. Each diamond seemed to outshine the next as I made my way down the counter to greet the white-haired salesman at the end.

  “Hi.” I cleared my throat. All of the sudden my stomach clenched, and I felt a slight tingle of excitement inside my chest. This was it—the next to last step in getting Lane to agree to marry me.

  “Yeah, hi,” I tried again. “I called earlier about holding a ring?”

  The older man’s eyes lit up, and his smiled caused deep crinkle lines around his eyes to form. “Ah, yes, Mr. Falcon. I have that piece right here for you.”

  He unlocked the safe behind him with a key attached to a bracelet he wore around his wrist. He removed a ring set in a tiny black velvet box and placed it on the glass counter in front of me. As promised, it was the exact ring I had picked out online. The single diamond gleamed against the lights in the shop, and my heart squeezed almost painfully. It was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen. Well, not so much the ring itself, but what it stood for.

  Instantly, I saw Lane’s face in my mind. What she would look like when she saw it. The way her mouth would move when she said the one tiny word I longed to hear when I gave it to her.

  Yes.

  This was the ring. It was like it had been made just for her, and I wanted to be the man who gave it to her.

  “I’ll take it,” I told the man as I ripped my wallet from my back pocket.

  He nodded curtly and eagerly took the card from my hand, swiping it nearly immediately, before returning with the card and slip for me to sign.

  My sloppy signature graced the receipt for ten thousand dollars. Granted it wasn’t the typical million-dollar ring most stars bought when they got engaged, but Lane and I weren’t like everyone else. We were just us, plain and simple. A lot like the ring itself.

  “Thank you for your business, Mr. Falcon. I wish the best to you and your love,” the man said as he attempted to place the ring box and paperwork in a bag.

  I shook my head. “No bag or paperwork needed.”

  The old man shrugged as I slipped the ring box safely into my front pocket before making my way out of the store.

  Twenty minutes later, Lane had picked two new pairs of shoes, and we were on our way back to Big Bertha. We were scheduled to leave for the next city on the tour, which I believed was Atlanta, in about an hour. Proposing on the bus wasn’t ideal, neither was in the back of this vehicle with Kyle right up front, but this ring was burning a hole in my pocket. Plus, I couldn’t wait to see it on her finger.

  I took her left hand into both of mine as she stared off over my right shoulder at the passing buildings. A cold sweat broke out all over my body. What the hell was wrong with me? Why was it that I could sing in front of thousands of people without so much as a second thought, but I was freaking out over asking my best friend and long-time love to marry me.

  Get it together, Noel!

  Lane turned toward me and glanced down at my hands clinging to her.

  “You okay?”

  I nodded a little too enthusiastically. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m great.”

  An uneasy laugh escaped her mouth as she studied me intently.

  Shit. My mind was blank. Writing songs about love and loss with her in mind, even with my dyslexia, came easy, but phrasing something amazing that would blow her away on the spot was kicking my ass. No words came to mind to describe just how much she meant to me.

  She opened her mouth then quickly closed it as her mother’s signature ringtone filled the air. She dug her phone out of her pocket..

  “Sorry,” she apologized before answering her phone. “Hi, Mom.”

  Never had I been so glad for a couple of minute reprieve in order to get my nerves together and pound this muddled mess in my brain down into something that made sense.

  “What?” Lane’s voice kicked up a couple octaves, and she flinched. “What do you mean broke your leg? Oh my God, Mom! Are you okay?”

  I held her hand tighter, but not for the same reason as before. Now I was worried. Kathy was like a second mother to me, and I was concerned for her well-being.

  “Okay, I’m coming down there. As soon as I get back to the bus, I’ll get packed and book a flight.”

  Shit. I settled back in the seat. This wasn’t the time to give her the ring. It was best if I waited a couple days until she came back from helping out her mom.

  A couple minutes later we parked next to the bus, and Lane ended her call. “So, Mom took a nasty fall while trying to clear a bird’s nest from the gutter on her house. She broke her right leg in two places and needs surgery.”

  “That’s terrible. Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “No, but I will have to go help her for a while. Hopefully Striker will understand that I won’t be around to consult, and he’ll be okay with working with me via email until Mom’s back on her feet.”

  I knitted my brow in confusion. I didn’t like the sound of th
is.

  “How long will you be gone?”

  Lane frowned, and my stomach dropped. That was the face she wore when she was about to tell me something I didn’t want to hear.

  “I don’t know. I guess as long as it takes to get her back on her feet.”

  “Any idea how long that will be?”

  Her frown deepened. “The surgeon she just saw said it would be six to eight weeks of recovery.”

  Six to eight weeks? How the fuck would I make it without her that long?

  Shit.

  “I’ll go with you. We’ll leave tonight.”

  It was the only logical solution I could come up with.

  She shook her head. “No, Noel. You can’t. There are a string of shows you’re booked for. Maybe when you get done—”

  “No. I can’t be without you.” The thought of not seeing that angel face everyday was a weight that nearly crushed me.

  “You aren’t coming with me.”

  I flinched. “You don’t want me there?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Then what’s the problem?” She wasn’t making any sense.

  “I won’t hold you back from your dream. Finish this tour. I’m not going anywhere this time. I promise.”

  She was right. A lot of people were counting on us. The roadies and production people didn’t get paid if we didn’t play. I couldn’t be selfish in this situation, even though I really, really wanted to.

  “Okay, fine. But can I spend every off day I have with you?”

  “I can’t let you spend all that money flying back to see me every spare moment you get.”

  “Money isn’t a problem for me, Lane. You know that. All that matters to me is being with you every second I can.”

  She sighed and reached her dainty fingers up to touch my face. “Sometimes you seem too good to be real.”

  I stared into her green eyes and threaded my fingers into her dark hair.

  “Now you know exactly how I feel about you.”

  Chapter 10

  The bus felt cold without her. I stretched out on the bed and rested my hand on the pillow where her head typically lay. Even though it was still early, and I wasn’t tired, I didn’t feel much like being social. It’d only been a couple hours and I was already losing my shit.