Revival: A Rockstar Romance (The Rock Legend Series Book 3)

by L. V. Lewis

  “Breakfast lunch and dinner can either be had in our suites or in Athiri, one of three island restaurants. Bride and Groom would love to see you for meals, but understands if you want to sleep in some days.”

  Eric rubs his hands together. “I hope they have a gym so I can work off some of this good food we’ll be consuming here.”

  “Yes, there’s a gym right off the lobby of the resort offices.” I continue to read the rest of the schedule. “So, welcome mixer only tonight at Tavaru. Tomorrow, the ladies will explore the island amenities while the guys golf. Do you golf?”

  “Of course. My dad taught me years ago. It’s come in handy when I’m trying to impress a director or producer.”

  “Good. That means you won’t be bored. There will be impromptu jam sessions since you’re on this island with a bunch of musicians. You can come with if you’re not going to be bored to tears, otherwise there’s other stuff to do like scuba diving, tennis, even squash.”

  Eric grins, “And miss out on an opportunity to see you, The Savages, and Skylar sing live and up close. No way!”

  I’ll give him points for including me first in that recitation. Once upon a time I would’ve been all over him, and prepared to use my special perks with IYM, Inc., but he barely gets a rise out of me libido-wise.

  “There will also be group scuba diving, karaoke, sailing, and the requisite bachelor/bachelorette party in our two week stay, with impromptu jam sessions interspersed throughout. None of these are required, but Sky and Brody have tried to give us both structured time and plenty of time to relax so we won’t feel like we’re being over-booked on what’s supposed to be a vacation.”

  “This is so cool,” he says with a wide smile. “I’ve been around enough actors to not be as star-struck with them, but you are all awesome. It’s going to be great seeing how you guys collaborate.” Fanboy much, Eric?

  “Thanks.” I return his smile. “So, I’m going to call first dibs on the shower if that’s okay.” I’ll be damned if he’s going to hog the hot water, not that I expect that will be a problem here.

  “Sure, go ahead. Can I ask you a question first, though?”

  “Yeah, shoot.”

  “How much do you want me to play up the PDA while we’re here. I know you mentioned that the drummer is your ex, but are we going for making him jealous, or just chilling?”

  “Good question. Let’s just chill unless I request you to do otherwise. Thankfully, I got a chance to see him before this trip, so it won’t be too much of a shock seeing him this time around.”

  “Okay, if he or anyone asks, we met three months ago at La Paella and bonded over Tapas, and the fact that we are both only children.”

  “Great back story,” I say. “We can fill in a few more blanks when I get out of the shower.” I grab a change of clothes and scurry into the bathroom.

  When I emerge, Eric has shucked down to his boxers. If he thinks I’m going to be impressed by his nicely sculpted body—he would be right. I can admire the presentation but not partake of the buffet. He immodestly carries only a pair of board shorts into the bathroom with him.

  I’ve donned a bikini under my shorts and tank. The water looks so great, I’m sure I’ll take a dip, or at the very least, get my feet wet before it’s time for the Meet and Greet. Tonight’s shindig is casual, as will be most of the events, except the wedding, according to the itinerary.

  Eric takes about as much time as I did in the bathroom, and I’m not judging him, just being observant, I swear. When we swap notes, I learn that he’s been acting since he was sixteen when he landed a part on a teen night time soap on the CW. He’s been landing bit character parts on major motion pictures now for about five years, and he’s almost making enough to stop working for IYM, or so he says.

  “What are the most recent movies you’ve been in?” I ask.

  “Memorial Day,” he says. “I play a terrorist. But you probably know Game of Thrones better. I played a Dothraki Screamer in that. Minimal lines, and even those were in the Dothraki language.” He laughs.

  “That’s cool. I’m an avid fan of ‘Dem Thrones. I’ve also wanted to see Memorial Day for a minute. I’ll try to pull it up on my Netflix account when I get a chance. In case someone asks me about your work, I’ll be able to speak intelligently about it.”

  “So, what’s going on with you career-wise, other than opening up for Skylar?” He riffles through a drawer and pulls out a tank, which he doesn’t put on right away.

  “I just finished an album before coming here. It should drop in the fall, at which time we’ll promote it, and then go on tour in the spring. After this next tour, we’ll analyze my streaming sales and digital downloads to see if I’m ready for my own tour.”

  “That’s exciting. I’ll have to try to see you guys on tour if it works with my schedule.” He retrieves a bottle of sunscreen from his backpack.

  “We can always use new fans.”

  He puts his hand to his heart. “You wound me. You’re not going to hook a guy up with some back stage passes?”

  “If you promise not to bring another girl with you,” I say, my expression bland.

  “Oh, so you want this to extend past this vacation?”

  “I’m kidding. Only if it does organically, though. If we don’t vibe, it’s no big.”

  “Would you mind?” he asks with a smirk, holding the sunscreen toward me.

  “Sure.” He turns his back to me and I slather a generous amount of sunscreen onto the skin of his back. It’s been too damn long since my hands have traversed over muscle like this. It makes me remember all the things I’ve slathered over Dylan and I roll my eyes at myself. I should really try to give Eric a shot, even if it’s only to placate my starved libido, but I’ll have to think on that while we’re getting to know one another, at least this first week, since he’d been off on a shoot and couldn’t meet up beforehand.

  When I’m done I give him the bottle back.

  “You want some of this?” When I hesitate, he says, “Or we can wait and I’ll put some on you later when your ex is around.”

  I grin. “Great minds and all that.”

  It’s clear Eric has no clue what Dylan looks like, because he puts sunscreen on me at least half a dozen times before I tell him I’ll give him a signal if Dylan comes around. I think Eric was just copping some feels. A dumb jock he is not.

  Dylan doesn’t come out to the beach, where the bridal party has congregated before the Meet and Greet. I do know that most of the wedding party have arrived by the time Eric and I spend a little while frolicking in the ocean. Eric is either a good actor, or he’s really having fun on this trip. Then I remember, the guys at IYM usually only take vacations when they accept a gig, and in Eric’s case some location shoots could qualify as a nice vacay.

  We finally get enough sun and we’re making our way back to the bungalow on the long pier, where Eric is threatening to push me into the water, and I’m squealing and running from him. We almost run smack into Dylan and the woman who could only be his date when we reach the bungalows. She is taller than me, thin, blond and very pretty.

  “Oops, sorry,” Eric says and steadies me with a hand on my lower back.

  “No harm. No foul,” Dylan says. He looks down to where Eric’s hand is located, but then looks expectantly at me, as if he wasn’t just checking out where Eric’s hand was.

  “Oh, hey, Dylan,” I say, giggling. “This is Eric Trexler. Eric, Dylan Castle.”

  Eric extends a hand and they shake while Dylan introduces his date. “Dani Ayers, this is Alyssa Lawrence and Eric Trexler. Eric. Alyssa. Dani.”

  We all swap shakes and then there’s a bit of an awkward silence before I ask. “You two headed to the Mixer already?”

  “Yeah, this one’s hungry,” Dylan says with a grin and gives Dani a playful nod. “Told you to eat something at the Airport.”

  “It hardly even qualifies as food,” Dani says. “I figure they’ll have fresh fruit and plenty of real food
here.”

  “Yes,” I pitch in. “Sky and Brody’s wedding planner has gone HAM on everything.”

  “Great,” Dani says, then apologetically. “I am really not obsessed with food, I’m just a nutritionist by trade and I try to eat the way I preach.”

  Oh, so not a model. I wonder if Dylan hired her to help him get back to his normal weight. Or if they’re dating for real, she’s likely giving him advice for free, and something else free too, from the way she’s hanging onto his arm.

  “Not always,” Dylan says and laughs. “Remember Giordano’s in Chicago?”

  Dani laughs, too. “Don’t remind me.”

  I laugh with them, the way you laugh when you’re the third wheel in a conversation and utterly clueless of the inside joke. Obviously they vibe in a way that two people who’ve just met would not—unless there was real history between them.

  “Dani? Is that short for something else, or are you the mother of dragons?” I ask facetiously.

  “I wish I were,” she declares, “but I’m not that blond, nor do I have Drogon, Rhaegal or Viserion orbiting around my head.”

  “It’s short for Danielle,” Dylan offers.

  I’m not gonna lie, I definitely feel some type of way knowing that were they to marry, they’d have the same fucking initials. DC. The initials of my favorite city to visit, and my second favorite comic book franchise. But that’s nothing, if we were to marry our initials would be AC/DC, and that’s some strong rocker shit there. What the fuck? I need to stop thinking like Dylan and I are a couple, especially around Dylan and his date.

  “Eric was a Dothraki Screamer in that show, so I guess I have Game of Thrones on the brain,” I say. Could you be any more lame, Alyssa?

  “We’ll let you guys go get a head start with the food,” Eric says smoothly. “To tell you the truth, I’m looking forward to it, too, after the half-cooked, fly ridden fare they served up on set for the Dothraki.”

  “If I could lose my appetite I definitely would over that one,” Dani says. “But I’m too hungry to care right now.”

  “Okay, see you guys in a bit after we change,” Eric says, his tone laden with innuendo.

  Dylan doesn’t respond. He just nods and ushers Dani away. Score one for Alyssa. Zero for Dylan.

  Twenty

  Velaa, The Maldives

  ALYSSA

  The venue for the Meet and Greet is Tavaru, the teppanyaki restaurant, better known as the tallest, whitest structure on the island. We are in a private dining room which seems to swallow the small wedding party, even with the security detail with us, whom Sky has generously invited to all the events. Malik is family and the other security guys we’ve all become quite fond of.

  We might be a small group right now, but our numbers will grow as the days lead up to the wedding. We are all talking loud enough to fool anyone standing outside the room that we’re a bigger group. The Savages band mates and the other men are shooting the shit, while the women are chatting at a bit lower decibel, surrounding Sky like she’s the Queen and she’s holding court.

  When Marnie and Nicole see Eric and me enter the room, they go apeshit and run to me screaming. “Alyssa!” “Girl, have we missed you!”

  I can’t tell which said what because they’re acting like a couple of excitable sorority girls. I should’ve gotten used to this when we were at our fitting, but from their reaction, you’d think we haven’t seen each other for years, or they’ve had a bit too much to drink already.

  They group hug me and begin the jumping up and down thing which I fold my arms and refuse to do, but they hug me again anyway and both begin talking to me at the same time.

  “Hey, who’s this fine fella?” “Who’s your date, Alyssa?”

  “Okay, Nicole Alto, Marnie Rios, this is Eric Trexler.”

  “Hey, Eric,” they say almost in unison, which is creepy as hell.

  “Hey Nicole, Marnie.” Eric makes a point of repeating their names so he can remember. Most actors are good at that.

  “Isn’t this place beautiful?” Nicole chirps.

  We each respond in agreement in varying ways, and Marnie and Nicole launch into a stream of word vomit that I’m barely tuned into. My eyes find Dylan and he’s standing next to Brody and their band mates, and Marnie and Nicole’s dates are chatting Dylan up like they’ve know him forever. I’d love to be a butterfly on his shoulder, just to hear what they’re talking about.

  Eric’s eyes glaze over as Nicole and Marnie continue their constant narrative until I finally touch his arm and urge him toward the men. “Go on over and introduce yourself,” I say. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

  There’s a Dee Jay playing an eclectic mix of rock, pop, hip-hop and R&B tunes. All top forty. All the time. I am distracted by the buzz I feel having Dylan in the same room, but I’m really doing okay nodding and providing monosyllabic answers to Marnie and Nicole’s chatter when the Dee Jay plays a duet by H.E.R. and Bryson Tiller entitled, “Could’ve Been,” where they are extolling what might have been between them if he hadn’t been physically and emotionally unavailable. I had stricken this song from my playlist shortly after Dylan ghosted me. It was too painful to listen to.

  Even now I’m finding it hard. I am about to bolt when Sky’s wedding planner interrupts the Dee Jay and asks for his mic. Thankfully, he turned that fucking song down so I wouldn’t have to skip out on my best friend’s first wedding event.

  “Okay, ladies and gentlemen. It’s time for us to get together for some bonding exercises. The bar is open so, if you haven’t already, grab your beverages of choice and join us in that circle of chairs right over there!” She points to the circle of chairs as if we’re kindergartners and are unable to follow simple directions.

  Sky catches my eye and grins. She recognizes my descriptive you’re-an-idiot-bitch face immediately. I grin back at her and head for the bar. I resist the urge to go hard on the liquor and choose a white wine. It’s going to be a long night, so I need to take it easy. If I get smashed early on, I might do something stupid. I’d rather keep my wits about me, because allowing Dylan and his date to see drunk Alyssa won’t be a good look on me at all.

  Eric joins me at the bar and selects a light beer. Actors and their constant weight obsessions.

  “When’s your next acting gig?” I ask.

  “I’ll be doing an independent film called Spotlight in Vancouver in about a month.”

  “So why don’t you indulge while you’re here? Is light beer your idea of indulgence?”

  He examines the bottle as if it’s going to answer my question. “You know, you’re right.” He sets the beer back down on the bar. “I’ll have a Jack and Coke, please.” He tells the bartender, who immediately obliges.

  We clink our glasses together and join the couples filling in the circle of chairs. Eric, holding my hand, leads us to a couple of seats on the opposite side of Brody and Sky. Dylan and Dani are on the other side of the bride and groom, so we’re in relative close proximity to each other.

  “So listen up, guys and dolls,” Ellie, the wedding planner says. “This game is called Truth and Lies, and the way you play is very simple. Each person is to come up with two facts about themselves and one lie. The lie should be realistic instead of extravagant, to make it hard for others to guess.”

  Wow! This should be interesting. Wonder what Dylan’s going to pick as his lie? Obsessed much, Alyssa? I really need to pipe my ass down before I do or say something thoroughly embarrassing. Eric casually slings an arm around the back of my chair, and my cheeks warm, despite knowing this is all an act. I can do coy in this room of friends and strangers.

  “I’m going to be so embarrassed if I don’t guess Brody’s,” Sky whispers to me.

  “Hey, I’ll probably not get Eric’s either, so you won’t be the only one,” I whisper back.

  Ellie continues her instructions, “We’ll begin with the bride and end with the groom…” The room erupts in cat-calls, and loud two-fingered whistles. “… and g
o clockwise around the circle. Each person will stand, introduce themselves and state their two facts and a lie in random order, without revealing which is the lie. After each person shares, the rest of you will try to guess which is the lie. The person stating their two facts and a lie will choose the winner. The person who guesses the lie will get a point.” She holds up some bride and groom figurines. “Whoever collects the most of these will win a fabulous prize.”

  “Oh, it’s on now!” somebody screams. This room full of obscenely wealthy people act as if this prize is going to be the shit. I’ve seen Ellie’s prizes. They are nice, but not all that. It’s a consolation prize at best. But, I get it. People love competition. I just don’t want to look like I’m being difficult, so I’ll play along.

  Sky is the picture of a glowing bride-to-be as she shares. “As you all know, I’m Skylar Samuelson-Amamoto…” She began to hyphenate her name once she got back in touch with her father, whom her mother had alienated from her for years. “…soon to be Skylar Kent.” Everyone cheers, and Sky’s cheeks become as red as beets, but she continues. “My three things have never appeared in any magazine or live interviews, so good luck guessing.” She ticks them off on her fingers. “My favorite meal is a burger and fries, but I can only eat it a couple of times a year due to obvious reasons.” She runs her hands down her svelte figure. “I perform before millions on an annual basis, but I’m actually an introvert. Go figure. And finally, I want to have six children, but my groom thinks I only want two.”

  “Six children!” Brody screams. “Oh God, let that be the lie.” He says under his breath.

  “Brody’s right,” Sky says.

  Brody gives her a sweet and very relieved kiss.

  “No fair,” George says. “You sleep with this chick.”

  Brody flips him off, and everybody laughs. Ellie gives him a tiny bride figurine.

  “Okay, your turn, Alyssa,” Ellie says.

  “No way,” I object. “I thought the Bride and Groom were going first.”

  “We’re going clockwise, and you’re obviously not a good listener,” Ellie says in the passive-aggressive way she’s taken to addressing me. I probably deserve it. “Brody goes last.”