Waking Up Married: A Rock Star Rom Com

by Lisa Suzanne

  She nods and side hugs me with her arm around my shoulder again. “Of course you can.”

  I pack a quick bag and then we’re off for a night with just the two of us.

  CHAPTER 26: ADAM

  I feel like I’ve searched every square inch of the bar before I finally run into Kylie.

  “Have you seen Emily?” I ask.

  She nods. “She wasn’t feeling well. She headed home.”

  It’s then I remember what I figured out at the meeting...I’m almost positive Kylie is pregnant.

  But now’s not the time to question her about it. Not only are we both wearing mic packs and surely cameras are nearby, but I need to find Emily. I need to tell her it’s all just a misunderstanding.

  And not just that.

  The neighborhood around here is safe, but I need to make sure she got home okay.

  “Alone?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. “Amber was with her.”

  I nod. “Thanks.”

  I dash off toward home, running the entire way. I switch off my mic pack halfway there, but when I get home, the house is dark. I check my bedroom anyway, but the light’s off and the room is empty.

  She’s not here.

  I try calling her, but she doesn’t pick up.

  “Fuck,” I mutter to myself as I slide onto my bed. An hour ago, everything was great. I was planning to tell Emily I’d fallen for her when we got back here tonight, and now I don’t even know where she is.

  I try texting instead.

  Me: I need to talk to you. Can you pick up?

  When my message reads as delivered but she doesn’t reply, my chest hollows.

  I try calling my sister next since Kylie said they were together, but when the call goes to voicemail, I try texting instead.

  Me: Are you with Emily?

  Her reply takes a while, but it does eventually come.

  Amber: Yes, and she’s pretty upset. I think she just needs a night.

  I blow out a breath. Did Bree manage to ruin this for me? I have to explain. I have to find a way to let Emily know that the kiss didn’t mean anything.

  But she won’t pick up...and to be honest, she’s being a little dramatic. She signed a contract agreeing to be my fake wife, nothing more. This only tells me that she has feelings for me, too. She has to, because the kiss shouldn’t have affected her this much otherwise.

  I send her another text and cross my fingers as I wait for it to show as delivered.

  Me: I’m sorry. It wasn’t what it looked like. Let me explain.

  My heart races as I watch the bubbles appear to indicate she’s typing a response. And when that response comes through, my heart drops.

  Emily: There’s nothing to explain. This is just a fake marriage anyway, right? Spending the night at Amber’s.

  Yeah, it is a fake marriage, but it’s also becoming more to me...and I thought it was to her, too, but clearly I was wrong. And so, with that in mind, I send her another text.

  Me: Don’t forget we have Sacramento tomorrow. It’s in your contract to come with me.

  It’s a little harsh, maybe, but it’s also a reminder that she can’t just run away. She signed an agreement that she’d accompany me to band functions, and a concert in Sacramento is part of those obligations.

  Emily: I remember what the contract said. Every letter. In fact, let’s both just stick to what it says. I’ll be at your place in the morning.

  Disappointment lances through me. No...not disappointment. Something much, much stronger. We were so damn close to having everything I’ve dreamed of with someone I never saw coming, and now we’re back to square one.

  I need to find a way to explain what she saw, but after that conversation, I’m pretty sure it won’t matter anyway.

  When I wake in the morning, I toss some clothes in a bag so I’m ready for the next couple days then run down to the kitchen to see if she’s here yet.

  She sits at the table laughing and sipping coffee with Dax, and my heart leaps. “Good morning, hubby,” she says, and she winks at me.

  She’s here. She came back.

  And then reality drops on me like a bag of bricks.

  She’s not here for me.

  She doesn’t love me.

  She signed a contract, and she’s only fulfilling the terms of it so she can make a hundred grand at the end of it. She’s putting on an act for the cameras, and the level of disappointment that comes with that fact is surprising.

  “Hey, wife,” I say, and I drop a kiss on the top of her head. “How was your girl’s night?”

  “So much fun,” she says, her voice dripping with sugar. “Amber and I had a lot of catching up to do.”

  Translation: I had a great night away from you. I spilled everything to your sister and you’re in hot shit.

  “I missed you,” I say.

  Translation: I missed you.

  I did. My bed felt empty without her in it. Funny how quickly I got used to having her next to me.

  I hate that she’s mad at me. I hate how cold her texts were. I hate that I allowed this to happen. Most of all, I hate that I potentially ruined the best mistake I ever made.

  She’s quiet on the way to the bus lot, but half of us are piled into Dax’s car and Kylie monopolizes the conversation with details about our next two nights. With our mic packs on and the general excitement that comes on gig days, it isn’t the right time to chat about last night anyway.

  The right time doesn’t come once we board the bus, either. I show Emily the bunk we’ll be sharing. I can see in her eyes how anxious she is about sharing such a small space with me in front of the cameras, but I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure she feels comfortable.

  At least as comfortable as two people can be sharing a tiny bunk that’s frankly smaller than a twin bed.

  We don’t get in the bunk on our way to Sacramento. She’s loving and kind in front of the cameras, but I have no idea what private time later will bring.

  I don’t get a chance to talk to her one-on-one at all until after the gig, when everyone has gone to bed, after she’s washed her face and I’ve already settled into the bed we’ll be sharing for the night. Our mic packs are switched off, sitting on the table in the forward cabin, and even though we’re on a bus with nine other people, we finally have some private time to be alone.

  “Are you okay?” I ask softly when she climbs in next to me. I think about calling her buttercup, but she doesn’t seem to be in the right mood to hear it.

  “Fine.” The single word tells me more than anything else she has said to me today. She’s not fine. She’s pissed, and her tone conveys that.

  “Can we talk about last night?”

  She shrugs. “Nothing to talk about. Let’s just get some sleep, okay? I’m exhausted.” She shoots me a quick fake smile.

  I press my lips together in disappointment and nod. I’m torn between appeasing her and fighting to give her the truth.

  “Good night,” I say.

  She doesn’t respond.

  CHAPTER 27: EMILY

  Maybe I’m being a little dramatic. It was just a kiss, one that he said he wanted to talk about but I didn’t give him the chance.

  Because I don’t want to hear it.

  I don’t want his excuses, and I don’t want to do this anymore, but I’m stuck.

  There’s always a way out of anything. That’s the advice my father taught me growing up, but my way out of this is faking a smile in front of the cameras, dealing with it for six months, and collecting my paycheck at the end. A hundred grand is a pretty good payday, and it’s not that long.

  The problem is that it hurt so much more than it should.

  Walking in on that kiss when I did was probably the only thing that could’ve taken my head out of the clouds and put me back on firm ground. Seeing for myself that Adam isn’t quite over Bree is one thing, but to see it for myself on the very first day of filming is just something else entirely.

  It’s agony to act
like I’m not aching on the inside every time I have to pretend for the cameras. So far I’ve managed to avoid actually kissing him, but sharing a bunk, holding hands, and pretending to be in love with someone I’m actually in love with but can’t have is some rare form of torture.

  But it’s a torture I’ll endure because there’s a light at the end of the tunnel.

  No matter how big this damn tunnel might be, the light’s still there. It’s just a tiny dot right now, but each passing day makes it a little bigger.

  We arrived in Oakland sometime last night when we were sleeping, and I wake to nearly complete darkness. I reach for my phone and see that it’s a little after seven and I’m stiff from sleeping in this tiny space with Adam.

  But as much as it hurts, I wouldn’t trade it.

  I got to sleep beside him, and even though I pushed his arm off me when he flung it over me in his sleep, I still knew he was there. I wish things could be different, but I’m not in the business of getting hurt.

  And that’s what this is.

  If I put myself out there, if I tell him how I really feel, I’ll only be rejected. He isn’t over his ex even though they ended things months ago. Besides, I myself probably need a mourning period. I feel like I’m over Chad, but maybe I’m not. Maybe there’s still wounds there.

  And Adam may be the one person who has the strongest capability of ripping the scabs off those wounds, tearing them wide open, and scarring me forever.

  At this point, with how much it hurt to catch Adam kissing Bree...well, I just can’t risk that.

  And so I’ve given up the idea that this might actually work between us, that when the contract is up, he’ll still miraculously want to be with me, like it was always written in the stars for us. Because it’s not. It’s a childhood crush that turned into some adult-ish feelings that I’ll just bury down low because the alternative isn’t a viable option.

  I climb over him, trying not to wake him because even though I’m mad, I’m not quite that much of a bitch, but he stirs anyway. I pause where I am, which just happens to be poised directly over him, one leg on either side of his torso.

  A lazy grin spreads across his lips as he catches me in the act of passing over his body. “Well if this isn’t the best way to wake up...”

  My cheeks heat and I’m thankful for the relative darkness. I keep my body up and away so I don’t connect with his body. He flexes his hips anyway, and the movement sends a sharp ache right between my legs. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  His hands come to a rest on my hips as he holds me in place. “Stay. Please?” He flexes his hips again, this time seemingly an automatic response to having a woman straddling him rather than a meaningful sexual innuendo. His eyes are begging me, something I can see even in the dim lighting of this bunk where only peeks of light come in on the sides of the drawn curtain.

  I shake my head and bat away the hand blocking my exit, and then I swing my other leg over and climb out of the bunk.

  I take a steadying breath before I head out to the forward cabin of the bus to leave the bunks behind, but the breath does nothing to calm my frayed nerves. Either I stay in the bunk—the place I actually want to be with a person who only wants me to be there because he feels bad for me—or I keep my dignity and fake it for the cameras. This morning, my dignity and the cameras win.

  “Good morning!” Kylie says, way too perky for seven in the morning after a fairly late night.

  “Morning,” I grumble, helping myself to a Diet Coke in the fridge.

  “Sleep good next to your hubby?”

  I bite my tongue as I glance up at the camera perched in the corner just above Kylie’s head. “Great sleep for a bunk,” I say, forcing a smile.

  Her brows dip down a little, but she doesn’t comment...not right then, anyway.

  In fact, she doesn’t comment until after soundcheck, when the guys are in the green room and ready to go. She catches me in the hallway, motions to her mic pack, and clicks hers off, indicating I should do the same. There aren’t any cameras out here, and it’s fairly deserted, but she whispers anyway.

  “Are you okay?”

  Tears fill my eyes at her question.

  It’s the first time in a long while that I’ve felt like someone actually cares about my feelings in all this. I can’t be honest with anyone close to me aside from Amber, and she’s biased because he’s her brother and she’s dating a member of his band.

  That night I stayed at her house after I caught him kissing Bree, we barely talked about her brother at all. In fact, we spent more time dissecting her budding relationship with Rascal. Apparently things are going well, and while it was nice to think about something other than my situation with Adam for a night, reality crashed back down on me when I had to get back to his place so we could leave town for a couple nights.

  I’m ready to be back home.

  Home.

  I don’t even have a home.

  The tears that filled my eyes turn into something else entirely. I start ugly-cry-sobbing in the middle of the hallway.

  “Jeez,” Kylie mutters, grabbing my shoulder and pulling me into a dark room. She flicks on a light switch and shuts the door behind us. “Take a deep breath,” she says, her voice soothing as she rubs my back.

  I focus on breathing, and once I’ve calmed enough to be able to talk, she asks, “What’s going on?”

  “I think I’m in love with him but he was kissing Bree and I’m homeless,” I blurt.

  Her eyes widen. “He was kissing Bree?”

  I nod, and another tear spills down my cheek.

  “When? Did the cameras see?”

  I shrug, but her question hits home and my heart aches with loneliness.

  She doesn’t really care about me and my situation. She cares whether the cameras saw.

  “It was out back the other night at Emerson’s. I don’t think the cameras saw. I didn’t see anyone out there.”

  “Is that why you left in such a hurry?”

  I nod again and swipe at the stray tears.

  She pulls me into a hug and rubs my back again. “I’m sure it was a misunderstanding, Emily. I think Adam has feelings for you, and I just don’t see him messing that up by kissing Bree. Not when there’s so much at stake.” She pulls back. “Not when he signed a contract.”

  “The contract, the contract. The contract! It’s all I hear about. It’s all I think about. I hate the stupid fucking contract!” I can’t help that I’m screaming.

  “I know, I know.” She nods and rubs my back again as she tries to soothe me, but it’s fruitless. “We’ll fix this.”

  “How? I’m miserable, Kylie. I’m stuck in this marriage with a guy I’ve had a crush on for years upon years and it should be utter bliss but it’s turning into a nightmare.”

  “Let me talk to Dax. He’ll get Adam to see—”

  “No.” I cut her off mid-sentence and point a finger at her. “Don’t you dare. I don’t want anyone getting Adam to see anything.”

  She shakes her head a little, but she relents. “Okay.” She holds up both hands in surrender. “Okay. I won’t say a word.”

  “Thanks,” I mutter, and I turn toward the bathroom so I can get a hold of my emotions and maybe splash some water on my face or something.

  “But for the record, he never looked at Bree the way he looks at you.”

  I whip around to face her. “What do you mean?”

  She lifts a shoulder. “When you leave the room, his eyes follow. When we’re all sitting together, he’s focused on you. He has feelings for you, Em. Have you talked to him about the kiss?”

  I shake my head. “I haven’t let him talk about it. I’ve been too scared to hear him say he wants to be with her.”

  She presses her lips together and then gives me a sad smile. “Maybe give him a chance to explain.”

  “I’ll think about it,” I say, and then I close the bathroom door not so I can have a few minutes alone, but in order to end this conve
rsation.

  CHAPTER 28: ADAM

  “What are you getting Kylie for Christmas?” I ask Dax. We’re in the back office of the bus, one of the few places where there are no cameras. This room is small, and I’m sitting on the floor between the door leading out to the bunks on my right and the door to the bathroom on my left. Dax is across from me, lying across the bench. We’re both recovering from mild hangovers due to the afterparty last night in Oakland. Everyone else is still asleep, and we took off early this morning, so we’ve got a few more hours until we arrive back home.

  I’m ready to get off this bus, but mostly because it feels claustrophobic in here sharing a tiny space with someone who seemingly hates me.

  She’s sweet as sugar in front of the cameras, but the second they’re out of sight, she wants nothing to do with me. And let me tell you, this woman deserves a goddamn Academy Award for her acting abilities.

  He shrugs. “I figured the wedding of her dreams was enough. No?”

  I roll my eyes and shake my head. “You know that’s not enough.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. And Christmas is only five days away. Fuck.”

  I laugh. “If it makes you feel any better, I haven’t even started shopping. Like at all.”

  “I’m done. Except for Kylie, apparently. How have you not even started yet?”

  “I’ve been a little busy with my new bride,” I say dryly. “Speaking of which, can I talk to you about something?”

  “Anything, dude. You know that.”

  I nod as I try to come up with the words. “You know how I told you I have feelings for Emily?”

  He nods.

  “She saw me and Bree kissing.”

  His eyes widen and he sits up. “You and Bree were kissing?”

  “Sort of.” I draw in a breath. “She was at Emerson’s. I pulled her out back to have a conversation away from the cameras. She misconstrued what I was doing and kissed me. Emily walked out right when it happened and figured I chose Bree over her. But I didn’t. And now she won’t let me explain. She said there’s nothing to talk about, but there is.”