Waking Up Married: A Rock Star Rom Com

by Lisa Suzanne

  “Then make her listen.”

  I lift both hands in the air. “We’re almost always in front of the cameras, and in the little alone time we do have, she changes the subject or goes to sleep or walks away every time I try.”

  “Then try harder.” He says it like it’s so simple.

  “And do what? Pin her down until she listens?”

  He shrugs. “If that’s what it takes. You have to fight for her if you love her, man. You have to make her see that it didn’t mean what she obviously thinks it means. What the fuck was Bree even doing at Emerson’s?”

  “Honestly I think she just wants to be on the show.” The door to my right cracks open as I’m talking, and I look up to catch Emily’s eye.

  “Is that what you think of me?” she whispers. Her eyes are glassy.

  “No,” I say, standing. I blow out a breath. “Not you. Bree.”

  She nods. “Right. Well, glad to see you’re still reminiscing about your special kiss. Good to know you’re going to give her that chance.” She slams the door shut and I stare after it for a second as I try to reconcile what the hell just happened in my hungover mind.

  I turn and look at Dax as if to say, See? That’s what she does!

  “Go the fuck after her!” he practically yells at me.

  “And what? Confess in front of the cameras?”

  “Hell yes! Fuck the cameras. We’ll edit.”

  “What if someone in production gets wind of it? Some show runner or something. You know that shit happens all the time. You know I can’t just run out there and talk about personal shit in front of the cameras if I don’t want it ending up on Celebrity Snaps and every other piece of shit gossip site.”

  He nods, relenting. “Yeah, I know. But you have to do something.”

  I know I do. I’m just not sure what.

  My phone rings, and when I see Kathryn’s name on the screen, I pick up. “Hey,” I answer. “Any news?”

  “The paperwork is ready for your signature and the house is move-in ready. The old owners have already vacated.”

  “Excellent,” I say. “Thanks for the call. I’ll be back in town in a couple hours.”

  “You’ll have the first appointment at the title company tomorrow morning.”

  “Great. See you soon.” I hang up and text the interior designer friend I’ve been in contact with over the last week. I may not have started my shopping yet, but I have at least one good idea to make my bride happy.

  “Are you really in love with her?” Dax asks me.

  I glance up at him. Am I?

  I haven’t had feelings this strong for someone since Bree, but this feels different. Maybe because it’s all fake, or because it’s for the cameras, or because it was an accident. Maybe because I’ve known about her crush on me for years and she just feels familiar.

  Or maybe because I’ve been blind to what was right in front of me for nearly my entire life and every ill-timed decision and failed relationship led me here.

  “I am,” I say, hedging, “but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to double down and say I’m ready to spend the rest of my life with her. I hardly know her.”

  “But you know how you feel.”

  I lift a shoulder. “Well yeah. I know how I feel. And this feels different...important. I want to date her, but we’re already married. It’s just a jacked situation.”

  “Then it’s up to you to fix it.”

  He’s right. It’s been less than three days, but I can’t stand this silence from her for a second longer.

  I march out of the office, through the bunks, and to the forward cabin. I find Emily sitting in a chair, and I haul her up out of it. She gasps with surprise, and I take the moment to swallow her gasp with a passionate kiss when my lips crash down to hers.

  I don’t care that Rascal is making catcalls or Kylie is whooping and clapping. I don’t care that the cameras are watching—this isn’t for them, it’s for me. For her. For us.

  I push my tongue aggressively past the seam of her lips and force my entrance. I pull her hips closer to mine, and her body relaxes into me as she gives into the kiss, into the passion we both share...into whatever this is, whether it’s love or something like it.

  When I finally pull away, she’s panting as she tries to catch her breath and her eyes are wide and a little confused. I grab her arm and steer her through the bunks and back toward the office. When Dax spots us, he picks up his tablet and exits, giving us the privacy we need for this conversation.

  “I know you don’t want to hear it, but I need you to listen anyway. That kiss you saw? That was all Bree. She ambushed me and kissed me.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Whatever, Adam. That’s not how it looked.”

  “I don’t care how it looked. I can tell you how it felt, and I felt nothing for her. When we broke up, I was devastated. Heartbroken. I didn’t think I’d ever fall for someone again...and then you and I somehow ended up married after a night in Vegas and I started to feel things again. I feel things when I kiss you, Emily, and it’s not because I’m faking for the camera. It’s real. I’m falling for you, and I need you to hear me when I say it’s over with Bree.”

  “You’re...falling for me?” she asks softly.

  I nod. “I’m falling hard and fast, Em, and I don’t want to stop.”

  CHAPTER 29: EMILY

  What do you say when the one person you’ve waited nearly your entire life to say he’s falling for you says it?

  You jump in headfirst, right?

  Wrong.

  I’m too careful.

  Too logical.

  Too scared after having my heart broken…to scared of someone cheating on me again.

  I’m starting to see how the scars Chad gave me run a little deeper than I first thought. Seeing Adam kissing his ex fired up all these fears that he would eventually cheat on me, too...which is ridiculous since we’re just faking it anyway.

  But he’s out of my league. I’m just his little sister’s best friend. It’s ingrained in my brain, and I’m not sure how to see past it and believe what he’s saying.

  Of course I want to give this a real try with him. But I keep reverting back to the thought that we’re stuck together for six months. What if we try for a few weeks and realize it’s just not working? Then we’re in an even worse position than we’re in now.

  “I think we need to wait.” The words come out in a whisper.

  “For what?” His brows dip down in confusion.

  I shake my head. “I don’t know. Maybe until filming is over.”

  “Until filming is over?” he asks.

  I lift both shoulders. “What if it doesn’t work, Adam?”

  He takes a step closer to me, and another, until there’s very little space between us in what started out as a small room in the first place.

  My heart pounds against my chest as an ache starts to throb between my legs at his proximity. I half want him to slam me up against the wall and ravish me right here in the privacy of this office. The other half of me wants him to just stop the charade.

  But he doesn’t stop.

  He comes even closer until our mouths are inches apart. “What if it does work, Emily?” he whispers, his breath hot against my lips.

  My eyes flick to his, and before I know what’s happening, his mouth is crashing down to mine like it did minutes ago out in the forward cabin. But that was for the cameras.

  There aren’t any cameras back here.

  He kisses me with all this pent-up passion. I don’t even know he’s steering me backward until my ass slams against the door. He pins me there with his body, one hand still on my hip as his fingertips dig into the flesh there and the other braces himself on the wall above us. He thrusts his hips to mine, and I can tell how much he wants me and wants this.

  I’m inclined to believe him—that he really does have feelings for me, that he’s not just putting on an act to give me what he thinks I want to fulfill the term I signed up for.

 
But despite the fact that this is what I want, maybe more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life, sober me isn’t impulsive enough to jump in with both feet.

  I’m too damn scared, and I just need some time to think.

  But I can’t think when his tongue is assaulting mine the way it is. In fact, the only thing that fills my mind is that this feels exactly how I always dreamed it would. Except better.

  And we’re married.

  How is this my life?

  I give into the kiss for a few beats until the image of him kissing Bree drifts into my mind, completely taking me out of the steamy moment. She wasn’t pressed against a wall when he was kissing her. His fingertips weren’t digging passionately into her skin like he couldn’t wait to get her naked.

  It doesn’t matter, though. The imagery is still there, regardless of the comparisons I’m making in my mind where I emerge the winner.

  Instead of wrapping my arms around him like I want to, I plant my hands on his shoulders and give him a little push. Once there’s space between us, I can think again.

  “I’m sorry, Adam. I just need some time to think. Time away from you and the cameras and all this.” I wave my hands around the bus, indicating the band and the tour and this rock star lifestyle.

  His eyes turn down, but he doesn’t look angry. In a surprise twist of events, he looks a little sad but also understanding. He presses his lips together and nods. “I’ll wait,” he says softly.

  I stare at him a beat longer, and then I open the door, run to the one place I can have a tiny bit of privacy on this bus, and close the bunk curtain before I have a chance to allow the impulsive side of me that I’ve never really met before one fateful night in Vegas to change my mind.

  I must’ve fallen asleep in the darkness of Adam’s bunk, which makes sense since I was awake most of the night last night trying not to move too much to disturb him. I figured if he was awake and he knew I was, too, he’d want to talk—something I managed to avoid until he forced me into the office and made me listen.

  “We’re home,” Adam says, shaking my arm.

  I turn over and find his face close to mine.

  “Hey,” he says softly. “We’re back in San Diego. And I didn’t get a chance to mention this earlier, but the realtor called. The house is ready.”

  I sit up and rub my eyes, smearing my mascara. “It is?”

  He nods. “We close tomorrow.”

  “We?” I ask. It’s his house.

  He nods. “I want you there with me.” He glances behind him and lowers his voice. “And not just for the cameras.”

  I nod, my heart dropping a bit. “But a little bit for the cameras.”

  His shoulders seem to droop at my words, and it’s then I realize that until this show is done taping, I’m not sure how I’ll be able to trust whether his motivations are genuine or for the show. His reaction pushes me to believe it’s the former, but I’ve liked this guy for a long time and he never even gave me the time of day until he found it advantageous to do so.

  I guess I just find it a little hard to believe that he’s actually into me, the sensible, careful, and nerdy bank teller who aspires to be an accountant.

  “No, Buttercup. Not for the cameras. For us.”

  I press my lips together and nod.

  “I have a question,” he says.

  I raise both brows.

  “Have you finished your Christmas shopping?”

  I can’t help a laugh. “Of course I have. I’ve been done for a month. Do you even know who I am?”

  His smile falters a little at my stupid question.

  Of course he doesn’t. We barely know each other at all, and nothing drives that point home harder than my rhetorical question.

  “Well I’m not done. Wanna go with me?”

  I shoot him a tight smile. I know it’s for the cameras. A newlywed date where we shop together. It might be fun if this were real, but instead it’s another layer of torture to add onto an already dumb situation. But what choice do I have? I agreed to it. “Sure.”

  Malls close at six o’clock on Sunday evenings, but apparently they stay open for the right price. The mall is empty except for the workers and the cameraman following us.

  Adam and I stroll in and out of stores hand-in-hand as he picks up a necklace for Amber, some perfume for his mom, and an obnoxiously flowery Hawaiian shirt for his dad. He grabs a vintage Nirvana shirt for Rascal and spends a little extra time in one of those stores with memorabilia signed by celebrities. He picks out something for each member of MFB, all thoughtful gifts, and then we stop in front of a jewelry store.

  He grins at me. “Come here,” he says softly, and he lowers his lips to mine for a sweet kiss. He pulls away and rests his forehead against mine. “If you could pick out your dream wedding set, what would it look like?”

  I lift a shoulder and fake a smile. “I’ve never really thought about it.”

  It’s a total lie—every girl has thought about it at some point—but everything about what we’re doing is a lie anyway. Besides, part of me is interested in where he’s going with this.

  “Take a look around and tell me if you like anything you see,” he says. We meander through the aisles together, pointing out different sets, and when he stops in front of the French-set halo diamond engagement band with a round diamond and a matching eternity band, I can’t help but hold my breath.

  It’s the ring.

  It’s over the top and it’s way too expensive and it’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of.

  And I don’t know why I’m holding my breath, but it feels like some kind of test. Like if he gets this right, maybe he somehow knows me better than I’ve given him credit for.

  “Oh, Em. This is beautiful.” He looks up at me. “It’s so...you.”

  And just like that, he passes the test.

  I can’t help when I press my lips to his. It’s an automatic reaction not for the cameras, but surely he’ll think it is after the way I’ve run so cold the past few days.

  But I don’t want it from him, and I need to tell him that.

  “It’s too much,” I gush.

  But it’s not that it’s just too much. There’s a little something else.

  It’s the ring I want to wear for the rest of my life, and if he gives it to me, it’ll be forever tainted by this whole experience. I won’t get to wear it forever because in six months, I’ll have to take it off.

  So instead of telling him the truth, I steer him in another direction. “I love it,” I say, and then I point to a different one. “But I think I want something else. Something like that.” I point to a simple, classic princess cut diamond.

  I guess some small part of me hopes that he’ll read between the lines.

  Translation: I love you, but I think I want someone else.

  Because I can’t see how this will ever work between the two of us.

  CHAPTER 30: EMILY

  “You didn’t bring your new husband with you?” my brother Eddie teases me with a laugh. We both glance at his wife, Maggie, who looks genuinely curious as well as we stand beside the mountain of presents beneath the Christmas tree. We’re celebrating the Clarke family Christmas on Christmas Eve at my parents’ house, as has become our extended family tradition.

  “No,” I say lightly. “He left yesterday to spend some time with his family in Michigan. He made the plans before we tied the knot, and I couldn’t miss out on some good, old-fashioned, Clarke family Christmas fun.” It’s the same speech I’ve already given four previous times...the same speech I’ll give another time or two at least.

  It would’ve been easier if they would’ve just all ambushed me together rather than making me tell the lie again and again, but I’ve said it so many times now that it’s starting to feel like the truth.

  Just my immediate family has twelve adults, but add my grandparents, aunts, and uncles into the mix, and there are closer to twenty-five. Add in the cousins and nieces and nephews, and my parents’ hous
e is full.

  I brought a fruit salad.

  It feels pretty lame considering I married a rock star.

  And that’s all anyone wants to hear about.

  I try not to cringe on the inside as I see my grandmother approaching me. Aside from Eddie and Maggie, I’ve already been grilled (and have lied to) my parents, my brother Jimmy and his wife Anita, my brother Keith and his wife Stella, and my only single brother, Joey. My final brother, David, hasn’t shown up yet with Grace, his long-term girlfriend, but I’m sure they’re next. My grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, and nephews—at least the ones old enough to care—have better manners than my siblings and parents and have so far stayed out of it.

  Thank God.

  I wish I had just one person here I could be honest with. Adam gets Amber, and it doesn’t seem fair.

  Of all my brothers, I’m closest to David. He’s three years older than me and not the closest in age of my brothers to me, but he’s the one most like me. He’s logical and careful and sensible—which could explain why he’s been dating the same girl for six years and hasn’t put a ring on her finger yet. He’s the kind of person who thinks through his decisions and trends toward deliberate thoughtfulness rather than impulsiveness.

  And it’s not just that.

  David knows Adam. They were the same year in high school. They didn’t run in the same circles, but David was well aware of my crush.

  Which is why I know my conversation with him is going to be the hardest of all.

  It’s also why I haven’t decided whether I’m going to keep up the ruse or confess the truth to him.

  I’ve got plenty of material I can use for blackmail if I need to...like the Playboys David used to steal from Eddie or the time I caught him smoking Joey’s weed or the fact that he once bumped Keith’s car with my dad’s. Silly things now—and things that don’t really show his sensible side—but at least it’s something.

  I just need somebody on my side in all this. I’m constantly around people from Adam’s camp, and while they’ve all certainly been accepting of me and nice to me, I can’t help but feel it’s not because they genuinely like me.