Waking Up Married: A Rock Star Rom Com

by Lisa Suzanne

  “What do you want?” My words are laced with venom.

  “Someone is paying me handsomely to release this photograph to the press. If you outbid them, you win.”

  “I won’t be part of some auction,” I spit at him.

  “Then I release the photo. Easy as that.”

  I glance at Emily, and the look in her eyes breaks my fucking heart. She wants no part of this. She might even be second-guessing a life with me if this is what it gets her.

  I decide to appeal to this guy’s sense of morality. “Why would you do that? Why would you try to tear apart my marriage?”

  He looks from Emily to me and grunts out a laugh. “I think I made it pretty clear.”

  “For money? You know what that photo could do. You know how it’ll change people’s perceptions.”

  “Which is why I hold the power.”

  I heave out a breath. “How much?”

  “A million.”

  I laugh in his face. “You’re delusional.”

  I glance around to be sure we’re still alone, because I have a feeling it might get a little ugly back here...and I certainly don’t need more fodder for the press.

  He lifts a shoulder and pulls out his phone. “I just have to press this one button, and it goes to all my contacts.”

  I slap his phone out of his hand, and it clatters to the ground. He bends to pick it up, and as he does, I grab the photo out of his hand.

  But it’s useless.

  In today’s day and age, there’s never just one copy of a photograph.

  I rip it up in front of him and let the shreds fall to the ground. “I’ll deny it. It was from before Emily and I got married.”

  He grunts out another ugly laugh. “That might work, but we have video footage from that night. We have you and Bree walking through Emerson’s to get outside. We have Emily walking in on the kiss and then running out of the bar in tears. So you can try to deny it, but it won’t matter. Everyone will know that you’re a cheater, and your poor little bride here will look oh-so-pathetic and sad, especially after the way her last relationship ended. People will think it’s something to do with her, that men can’t help but cheat on her.”

  Rage fuels my next move at his words.

  No one talks about Emily like that.

  No one.

  It’s like everything around me blacks out for a second as I grab him by the throat and push him up against the brick siding of the building we stand behind. I lift him up just a little so his feet aren’t touching the ground. “Fuck you, you greasy little pig.” I hear Emily’s voice beside me, telling me to stop, yelling my name, but I’m so full of fury that I can’t stop. He sputters and coughs as I press a little harder into his throat, a little spittle dripping down to his chin. “She’s the single greatest thing to ever happen to me, and I won’t let you talk about her like that. I love her, and neither one of us cares what you do with that photograph.”

  “Adam! Stop!” Emily’s voice finally pulls me out of my haze.

  I drop my hand and he falls to the ground, clutching his throat and heaving as he tries to draw in a breath.

  “Don’t even think about blackmailing me again. It’s a crime in this state and I’ll have you arrested faster than you can wipe the spit off your chin.”

  I grab Emily’s hand and pull her away from this nasty scene, afraid our night has officially been ruined after things were going so damn well.

  CHAPTER 37: EMILY

  He grabs my hand and we start our walk back home like everything’s normal.

  It’s not.

  Tonight I saw a side to life with Adam I never really thought about. I’ve never seen Adam like he was with that guy tonight, and I have to admit...it scared me.

  “I have one more surprise planned for you,” he says as we stroll along the boardwalk. We’re not holding hands this time, though not for lack of him trying. I squeezed back and then dropped his.

  I guess I’m processing everything that just happened.

  First was the crowd that gathered around us, something I hadn’t expected tonight, and then the whole blackmailing and pushing that guy up against the side of the building thing...

  “I think I’d like to just go home,” I say softly.

  I don’t know if this life is for me.

  And I don’t know how to say those words to him.

  “Please,” he whispers.

  “Fine,” I say flatly.

  He doesn’t attempt to grab my hand again, but as we get closer to our house, he cuts down one of the openings in the wall toward the beach. He stops and takes off his shoes, and I mirror him. We hold our shoes in one hand as I follow him, and he stops in front of a bonfire.

  No one else sits by this fire, and we’re almost directly across from our house. It’s just the two of us having a very private moment on a very public beach.

  And there’s something insanely romantic about that.

  If only I could enjoy the romance that he’s creating. Instead, I can’t stop feeling the fear that bubbled through me when we were surrounded by people yelling our names and trying to take pictures of us.

  I blow out a breath as he gestures toward one of the chairs, and I sit. He sits beside me. We’re close enough to touch, but we don’t.

  He pulls two glasses and a bottle of wine from a basket beneath his chair that I didn’t even notice.

  “How’d you do all this?” I ask.

  He smiles. “I have my ways.” He uncorks the bottle and pours some liquid into a glass. He hands it to me and pours his own then holds it up. “To starting with a new beginning. Again.”

  I tap my glass to his, but I’m not entirely sure I believe in the toast. I don’t know how we start over after all that’s happened.

  We sit in what would have been comfortable silence before the events of the last hour unfolded. We should be enjoying the fire together, reminiscing about old times. I should be thanking him for remembering one of the very things I loved so much about this place when I used to come as a teenager.

  But instead, the quiet between us is filled with awkward tension, and I can’t help but wonder if he can feel it, too.

  “What’s wrong?” he finally asks.

  I shrug. “It was just...scary.”

  “What was?”

  “Being surrounded by people who were desperate for a photo. Feeling closed in and claustrophobic and terrified we wouldn’t be able to escape. Watching you pushing that guy up against the wall and threatening him the way you did.”

  He shrugs and looks away from me, and it’s the moment things take a turn. I’m scared I’ve lost him in all this. I should be the one scared off, yet I feel like he is...or we both are.

  He sits back in his chair, a little defeated. “The paparazzi thing...it’s just part of this life. I’ll always protect you from it, Em. The best I can. But that guy? Well, when he said those things about you...I don’t know. Something came over me, and the barbaric need to protect you took over. That’s never happened to me before. I wanted to kill him for making you feel like anything less than the beautiful, caring, perfect woman you are.”

  I laugh. “Perfect? Hardly.”

  “To me, you’re perfect. And I feel you pulling away from me already, and I hate it. You just said you’d try, and then this...” He trails off like he wants to add more but isn’t sure how to say it.

  “It was scary, Adam. The people rushing us for pictures or just to get a glimpse of you. The yelling and the questions. I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

  He reaches over and grasps my hand, and this time I don’t let go. I let him comfort me as he rubs a gentle pattern on the back of my hand with his thumb.

  “I realize now I should have warned you before you agreed to try things with me. I probably should’ve warned you before we got married, but clearly neither of us had all our faculties about us that night.”

  “Warned me?” I ask. “About what?”

  “I need you to understand that
this is my life. Pictures and blackmail and fans and paparazzi. Accusations and allegations. Lying to get out of a crowd. People charging toward us. And this will all be part of your life, too. You’ll be a star of Rock on the Road, and the hard truth is that some people will love you because you’re good for me and some people will hate you because they can’t be you, both without even knowing a single thing about you other than what they see on television. But no one will know you like I do.”

  “And how do you know me?” I challenge, because at the core of all this, isn’t that what it’s all about?

  “I know you love numbers and dream of being an accountant someday. I know you’re logical and careful to a fault and that your favorite thing to do is over-analyze. I know you were dissatisfied with your life before Vegas and you’re terrified of the adventure that has come since. I know you like white wine more than red but you’d usually rather have a margarita. I know you have five brothers but you’re closest to David. I know your parents are hard on you but it’s because they love you, and you know that, too. I know you want to order pizza but opt for chicken and veggies nine times out of ten.”

  I chuckle at that one. It’s so true. I always want pizza.

  “I know you hate to exercise but will walk on the beach until you can’t walk anymore. I know you love animals but don’t have one because Chad didn’t want one and you wanted to make him happy, and I know Chad broke your heart but you got over him so fast because deep down you knew he wasn’t right for you.”

  My nose prickles as the heat of tears stings behind my eyes. He’s picking out the details I didn’t know he was paying attention to all this time, and there’s something beautiful in that.

  But that doesn’t change what happened tonight.

  “I know you can make people feel comfortable within seconds of meeting them. I know you can make me feel like the hottest guy in the world with one simple look.”

  My cheeks heat.

  “But those are all surface things. I’m getting to know your heart, and the more I get to know you, the more I see that it’s the most beautiful heart I’ve ever known, and if you’ll give me the chance, I’ll let you know mine, too.”

  I draw in a shaky breath as I try to ward off the tears. “I just need some time to process everything that happened tonight.”

  He presses his lips together and drops my hand. He stares at the flames cracking and burning in front of us. “I understand.”

  I hope he means it, but I’m already afraid we’ve both failed our first test after agreeing to give this a try.

  I stare down at my hand with the princess cut diamond glittering in the light from the fire.

  “And one more thing,” he adds. “I got you the ring you’re wearing because it’s the one you said you wanted. I knew you wanted the round cut one I picked out for you first. I saw it in the disappointment in your eyes when I flipped open the box. You tried to hide it, but I know you better than you think.”

  I glance over at him with a little bit of confusion. “I love this ring,” I say, holding up my hand. I do. It’s gorgeous, even if it isn’t the forever ring I’d always imagined. “But if you really believe that, why’d you get me this one?”

  He gives me a sad smile. “Because I had a feeling you weren’t ready to wear the ring you want to wear forever.”

  My heart glows with emotion for him. He really is getting to know me beyond the surface, and that means something.

  CHAPTER 38: ADAM

  “You want to come with me?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. “I’ve got some things I need to do here.”

  I feel like it’s her way of saying that she doesn’t want to interfere, but having her at practice with the band wouldn’t be an interference. In fact, I’d love to have her there. I choose not to force the issue, though. We have nearly six months ahead of us for band practice and time spent together, and longer if I have anything to do about it.

  Once I get to the house where I used to live—and still have a bedroom if I ever need it—I find the four other members of MFB sitting around the kitchen table with coffee cups in front of them, a far cry from the days when we used to sit around with beer bottles in front of us no matter what time of the day it was—which, incidentally, were also the days when we wouldn’t be caught dead up and at ‘em before ten in the morning, the start time of this particular meeting.

  I guess it all just goes to show that we’ve grown up.

  “Where are the women?” I ask, eliciting a laugh from around the table because we all know they’re usually not too far.

  “Kylie’s taking the day off to spend it with her family,” Dax says.

  “Zoey’s at Ethan and Maci’s house,” Brody says, naming Vail’s drummer and Zoey’s big brother and his wife, a badass rock star herself.

  “Sierra’s at her place,” Kane pipes in.

  “Your sister’s still in Michigan.” Rascal rolls his eyes and runs a hand over his short, red hair.

  I guess it’s a good thing Emily declined accompanying me today since she would’ve been the only woman present. This is good, though. It’ll give me a chance to catch up with my best friends, my brothers of MFB, guys I’ve been with for the majority of the last few weeks but haven’t really had a chance to catch up with.

  “You ever gonna tell us what the fuck happened to your hair?” I ask, and all eyes turn curiously to Rascal while I pour myself a cup of coffee.

  Rascal shakes his head, but his pale face turns a little red at some memory. “Nope.”

  I slide into a chair at the table.

  “How are things with the wife?” Brody asks.

  “Good.” It’s an automatic response, but I’m still not really sure where we stand after last night. We said some things, and I was sure it was going my way...and then she got scared off by the paparazzi.

  “That good doesn’t feel very good,” Kane says, the one in our band who’s best at reading exactly the things people aren’t saying.

  “It is and it isn’t.” I draw in a deep breath and admit the truth to the men I know will only cheer me on. “I want to be with her. I’m in love with her.” I gauge various reactions from a jaw drop (Rascal) to head nods (Kane and Dax, who already figured it out) to wide smiles (Brody). “And I think she wants it too. She agreed to give this a real try with me last night...” I trail off, and I’m met with phrases like awesome, man, and that’s great, and fuck yeah. “But then we had a run-in with the paparazzi at Belmont Park and I think it scared her off a little.”

  “So win her back, man,” Dax says. “It’s just the paparazzi.”

  I nod, because I know. But I also know about the accidents they’ve caused and the people who’ve suffered because of them. I can promise to protect her to the best of my ability, but that doesn’t mean she won’t get ambushed anyway.

  And I get it. That lifestyle’s not for everybody even though we’re used to it now.

  Well, as used to it as anyone can get.

  “I know. I’ll work on it. What’s on tap for today?”

  “Band meeting whenever we’re ready, going over setlist, and reviewing Kylie and Mitch’s responsibilities for the last leg of the tour,” Dax says, reading off a checklist Kylie left for him. “Then practice.”

  “Can we start in a half hour?” Kane asks. “Sierra just texted and needs to talk.”

  “I’m gonna go shower,” Brody says, and he gets up and heads upstairs at the same time Dax says, “I have to make a phone call.”

  That leaves Rascal and me alone at the table, and I realize I haven’t really talked to him at all about the fact that he’s with my sister.

  “How are things with you and Amber?” I ask.

  He looks at me for a minute, and it’s then I see how different he is. It isn’t just the new, shorter hair, though that’s part of it. He looks a little older. A little wiser. A little more mature.

  A little less like a Rascal and maybe a little more like a Will.

  “I feel like
I can’t win by answering that,” he says. “You’re gonna be mad if I say good because you didn’t want us to hook up, and you’re gonna be mad if I say shitty because she’s your sister.”

  “Then let’s leave my relationship with her out of the equation. You can be honest with me.”

  “Okay,” he says, “but first I need to know why it was such a big deal to you that I didn’t hook up with her.”

  “Not that it mattered because you did it anyway, but it’s because she’s my sister. She’s blunt and can be a little mean. And you’re...you. You piss off girls and they keep your shoes and you’re a little on the wild side and impulsive. I guess I just never wanted either of you to get hurt. I care about her because she’s my little sister. And, well, you’re part of MFB. I don’t want things fucked up between us because it went south for you.”

  I’m not used to having these vulnerable conversations, especially with Rascal of all people.

  He nods like that makes sense, and then he finally says, “I don’t think you need to worry. Things are fucking incredible, man.”

  I can’t help my smile. “Really?”

  He nods. “She’s so goddamn smart and cool and funny. I’ve never really been interested in a relationship before, and now it’s like I can’t get enough of her.” He sighs, and yep, it’s definitely love. I can already see visions of mini-Ambers with curly, fiery red hair. It’s a little jarring from a brother’s perspective, to be honest, but I’m glad they’re happy. “And Jesus, she’s fucking smoking hot.”

  I wrinkle my nose. “That’s my sister you’re talking about.”

  He glares at me. “You told me to ignore that.”

  “Well, let’s go ahead and acknowledge it again.” We both laugh. “Just don’t fuck her over, okay?”

  “I won’t. I love her,” he says softly, and I get the feeling that we won’t just be connected as brothers by MFB for much longer. My gut tells me he’ll be an actual part of my family someday, and it’s kind of incredible to think about how much love there is in this little band of brothers we started when we were in junior high.