Rock Me: A Rockstar Romance (Rock Chamber Boys Book 4)

by Daisy Allen

  “I don’t have a date for the rest of the night,” he says, and my legs clamp together so fast, I almost topple over again.

  “Busy tonight. Sorry,” I say, pushing away from him to face the bar, where James is standing, looking like he’s enjoying my discomfort.

  “Here,” he says sliding a double of Glenfiddich across the bar to me.

  “Bout time,” I glare at him, picking up the glass and giving it a swirl, letting the deep, caramel scent waft up. It burns my nostrils, in that way where the heat creeps up on you. I cradle the glass in my hand for a moment, wanting to savor the moment with my glass of liquid gold. They’re few and far between these days. On my $11 an hour job, I can’t really afford to be indulging my premium liquor cravings. Thank God for Paige and her bank account I tell myself, before I take my first sip.

  I close my eyes as the liqueur slides down my throat like amber lava, smooth but destroying everything in its path. I’m instantly taken away from the deafening din of the bar and the grabby, rambling creep next to me and suddenly I’m home, sitting at my grandfather’s feet as he describes to me the minutiae of scotch distillation, and I swill the glass, learning to discern the notes of honey and almond and orange peel. Bliss.

  The bliss lasts as long as it takes for someone to ram their elbow into my side, trying to make room for himself at the bar. I hug the glass against my chest, protecting it as I open my eyes and snarl at the intruder on my moment.

  “Asshole!” I yell, giving him some elbow of my own. I instantly regret it. His chest is hard and broad. And my jab causes me more hurt than him.

  “Sorry,” he says, not sounding sorry at all. I detect a European accent in the one word. Ugh, fucking tourists.

  “Oi, careful of the lady,” Chris intervenes and I glare at him. I especially don’t need him to protect me.

  Paige pushes past Chris and gives me a look before turning her perfect smile on the elbow owner. “Oh, it’s totally okay. It’s pretty crowded in here.”

  “Not too damn busy for manners,” I say, refusing to let him off so easily, not that he’ll pay any attention to me, now that Paige has turned her charms on him.

  He raises his eyebrows and looks like he’s trying not to laugh. “No, truly, I’m sorry. Let me pay for another round.”

  “No, thanks.” I tell him. Even though my tongue twitches at the thought of getting another glass of Scotch to enjoy. “Just keep your elbows to yourself, next time.”

  Paige gives me a kick and I turn back to glare at her. She just shakes her head and leans in, her mouth against my ear. “Oh my god, what is wrong with you? Don’t you know who that is?”

  “Seriously? Star spotting? Haven’t you lived here long enough to not get star struck?”

  “I’m not star struck, I’m just-…”

  “No! Don’t know, don’t care.” I hold my hand up.

  I turn back to face the bar, there are two hundred dollar bills under the tip glass and both he and the Centipede have gone. Good. It’s back to just me and my drink.

  Thirty minutes later, my first glass of Scotch is empty and so is my second, my third and yes, my fourth (thank you handsome stranger with the offending elbows), and I’m infinitely more relaxed. In fact, so relaxed that my bladder reminds me I haven’t taken a bathroom break since 5 p.m., before the dinner rush. Suddenly, I need to pee, and I need to pee right now.

  I motion to Paige but she’s too busy flirting with James to care. Elbows at the ready, I make my way through the crowd to the restrooms, the extra jostling making the trip all the more necessary. Squeezing my legs together, I suck my stomach in as I push myself through the gaps between dancing bodies to the back of the room. It takes longer than I had hoped and by the time I get there, I’m ready to burst.

  There’s a line out the door. Fuck! I stand there, jumping from leg to leg wondering how likely it is that these ladies are going to let me push in.

  I tap the shoulder in front of me, “Please, can I go ahead of you? I’m dying here.”’

  “No way! I’ve been waiting for like ten minutes.”

  Ten minutes? God no. My bladder twitches at the thought and I almost lose control. I spin around, my eyes crazed, wondering what to do. I see Elbow-Asshole emerge from the Men’s restroom.

  “You!” I yell at him, before I can stop myself. Um… think of something, think of something… “Um, I’m looking for my boyfriend. Is he in there?”

  He looks me over for a minute, and I try to calm the crazed need to pee look off my face and stop the pee dance. “Er, no. It’s empty. Sorry.” He shouts over the noise.

  Sorry? It’s the best news I’ve heard all day. I eye him up and down. He doesn’t look like a serial molester. But I guess I should still ask.

  “And – are you some kind of serial peeping tom?” His forehead scrunches up for a moment. “Dude. You have to think about it?!”

  “Well, yes. I mean – I only tom peep on the third Thursday of every month that ends on a Monday in years that are a multiple of three, does that count as serial?”

  I’m going to have to take a chance that he’s only joking.

  I grab his arm and spin him around, so his back is to the bathroom door.

  “Ok, you’re just going to have to do. I need to pee. And there’s a line for the ladies’, so I’m going in to the Men’s. You stand guard. You and your elbow owe me!”

  He throws his head back and laughs, and for a moment I’m afraid he’s just going to walk off.

  “Ok, fine. Go. I will stand here and protect you with my killer elbows.” I barely have time to see him stretch his arms out to his sides and wave them around before I run into the restroom and into the first cubicle I see.

  Ah. Holy hell, sweet relief.

  It’s almost a whole minute before I’m done and realize I’m in my worst nightmare. A dirty public restroom. I get up, using a square of toilet paper to pull open the cubicle door. Kicking my way through the scrunched up toilet paper on the ground, I make my way to the sink.

  “It’s a good thing it’s dark in here,” I whisper to myself and thank the owners for dimming the lights and knowing better than to use a black light in here. I wash my hands, shaking the excess water off.

  As I’m looking for some paper towels, my phone buzzes. What is with the late night calls and messages today? I pull it from my pocket. It’s from Paige.

  Where are you?

  I punch in my answer.

  The toilets. Men’s

  Her reply comes in fast.

  ??????

  Don’t ask. I text back. Before she responds, I hear shouting from outside the bathroom door and it swings open. An average sized head dwarfed by a giant neck and torso comes barreling in, startling me. In my shock, I drop my phone. It bounces off the ground and into the urinal trough. I watch it unfold in slow motion, frozen to the spot.

  The giant stops.

  Looks at me.

  And then at the phone.

  “My bad,” it growls and turns and leaves the bathroom.

  Leaving me staring at my phone, currently swirling in gunk I don’t even want to try to identify.

  Fuck.

  Fuck fuckity fuck!

  The door swings open again, and Elbow Jerk steps in. “Hey, that guy-…” he stops in his tracks when he sees me standing there. And what I’m looking at.

  “Oh. Um. Any chance that isn’t yours?” He asks.

  “I dropped it when that meathead came in! You were supposed to be guarding the door.” I jab my finger against his chest, before I remember how iron hard it is. It just makes me madder so I keep jabbing.

  “Lady, did you SEE the size of him? My elbows were useless against that much steroid enhanced muscle!” he tries to explain as he bats my finger away. I can’t even process what he’s saying, all I can do is try to figure out how I’m going to get my phone out of … that. “I think it’s a goner. It probably won’t work anyway after being drowned in that much, um, water.”

  Right on cue, it buz
zes to life.

  I look up to glare at him.

  “You.” I poke him again in the chest. “This is your fault. Your fault. That means it’s your job to retrieve it.” His face scrunches up so much, I can barely make out his features.

  “No, please, I’ll buy you a new one.”

  “No.” I shake my head.

  “I’ll buy you FIVE!” He says, holding up his fingers and wiggling them.

  “No, there’s stuff on that one I need.”

  “Like, right now. You, me, nearest phone store, I’ll buy up their whole stock! I’m serious.” And I believe him.

  “Nope. I want that one.” I point to my phone.

  He sighs, “You’re really going to make me do this?”

  “I really am.”

  “Okay. I can do this. I’ve proven tonight, I can do anything,” he mumbles to himself. And if my phone weren’t bobbing around in toilet gunk, I might be inclined to ask what he’s talking about. “Okay, Toilet Girl, stand back.” I don’t know why I need to, but I obey. I don’t really have much interest in standing close to that reeking metal trough anyway. He looks around for a moment and then digs his hand into his pocket. He pulls out three condoms and throws me a grin.

  “Gross,” I say, rolling my eyes.

  “Says the girl who’s going to be putting her face up against a urinal phone,” he shoots back. Can’t argue with that one. I watch as he tears open the condom packets.

  “Here, hold this.” He says, handing one to me. The hell?

  “Yeah, no thanks, I’m not really in the mood.” Seriously, what is wrong with this guy?

  “Do you want your phone or not?” he says, shoving the now open condom into my hand. It’s a strange sensation, standing here in a dingy men’s’ toilet holding an unwrapped condom. I keep watching as he slides one over his thumb and the other over his index finger.

  “I’m a genius,” he says, wiggling them at me and grinning proudly. I don’t respond, I’m not quite sure how to. “Sheesh, tough room,” he complains.

  “Stinky room!” I shout.

  “Agreed. Okay, I’m going in,” he announces, like he’s the first man exploring an undiscovered cave.

  He bends at the knee and reaches into the metal trough, grimacing as he pinches my phone between his fingers and stands up, holding it as far away from his body as his arm will allow. It’s dripping and he makes a move as if to shake it.

  “No!” I yell, shielding myself with my hands, “Don’t fucking shake it!”

  “Argh! Open the rubber! OPEN THE RUBBER!” He yells, and I have no idea what he means. “Blow up the condom! Blow it up!” he yells, gesturing wildly with his other hand at me.

  He’s got to be kidding me. But he’s holding my pee drenched phone in his hand so for once I do as he says. I blow into the condom, watching it inflate like a balloon.

  “Now, hold it out to me!!” he orders me, a little too excited. I stretch the opening of the condom as far as I can and he shoves my phone into the rubber casing and then takes it from me and twists the neck into a knot before turning it around, inspecting it. “Mission: accomplished, Toilet Girl. I’m a fucking genius,” he says again, holding out my now condom sealed phone to me.

  I can’t help but laugh at his excitement over the achievement. I take the phone from him and rinse the outer rubber casing under the tap.

  “What? No, thanks?” He says, freeing his fingers from their makeshift gloves and throwing them into the trash, and joining me at the sink.

  “Thank you,” I say.

  “You’re welc-…” he starts.

  “Thank you,” I continue, cutting him off, “for doing such a bad job of guarding the toilet door, that you let a minotaur come charging in here, scaring me and making me drop my phone into a public urinal.”

  It doesn’t faze him. He just grins even more widely and holds out his hand as if to shake mine. “Like I said, you’re welcome.”

  I bite my tongue, trying not to get caught up in his charm. For the first time I really notice him. Tall. Slim waist but broad shoulders. His grey t-shirt hugging him tight around his firm stomach. Square, strong jaw, and green eyes. And blonde. Dirty, sexy, blonde. I wonder how many women he’s gotten into bed, just by smiling at them like he’s smiling at me right now, with one gorgeous green eye coyly hidden behind his long, flick[R1] fringe.

  I ignore his hand and head toward the door, fully aware that I need to get out of here before that smile is going to do some damage to me.

  “Well, Mr Elbow Jerk. It was nice to meet you, again. My drowned phone and I will be off now.”

  He moves in front of me, blocking me from leaving. “Whoa, not so fast. Don’t I at least get a name?”

  “Your parents didn’t give you one? That’s terribly negligent. Okay, then I shall dub thee – Sir Elbow Jerk of Condom Fingered County.” I tap him lightly on each shoulder, as if knighting him. His very strong, broad shoulders. That stretch down over that iron hard chest. Damn.

  He sighs, the corner of his mouth twitching. “What? You don’t kneel before royalty? Treason!”

  “Dude, I knighted you. I out royal you, you should be kneeling before me,” I throw back at him, surprising myself. That Scotch must’ve really gone to my head, I don’t usually feel this comfortable bantering with a complete stranger. It could also be the effect of the location, making equals of us all. Lentil scooper and drop-dead heart throb.

  “Sweetheart, I’d be on my knees in front of you, in a second.” He drawls, running his hand through his hair, flicking his fringe up, so both his eyes are locked on mine.

  Something low in my stomach flickers to life and I swallow hard, trying to snuff it out. I give him a slow, drawn out eye roll. “I assume you’re used to women saying the same thing to you.”

  He just grins that shit eating grin in response. Before I can wipe it off his face with my next comment, the door swings open and two very drunk guys stagger in.

  “Hey!” one slurs, pointing at me. “What’s that doing in here?”

  “Oi. Who you calling ‘that?’” I ask, insulted.

  “This is for dicks only!” drunk number two adds, pointing to his groin and both of them lurch towards us.

  “Well, you’re certainly that,” I snicker.

  Sir Elbow Jerk facepalms and mumbles something like, “crazy woman,” under his breath and grabs my hand.

  “Er, no problem, our sincerest apologies, gentlemen. We were just leaving,” he says, pulling me toward the door.

  “Hey! I know you!” drunk number one says, pointing a sweaty finger at Elbow Jerk. “You’re…um…”

  Elbow Jerk stops and pulls a twenty from his pocket and shoves it into the guy’s shirt pocket. “I am… very grateful to you for not telling anyone about this. Have a goodnight!”

  He waves to the drunk guys and pulls me out of the restroom and back into the bar.

  It’s so dark and hot and loud and crowded compared to the bathroom. The sudden change make it feel like the walls are closing in around me.

  My heart lurches right into my throat and I feel every inch of my skin burst into sweat. I freeze, even as I feel his hand pulling on mine. I take a deep breath and still feel like no oxygen is entering my lungs. My legs buckle under me and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. And the last thing I see, is a blonde fringe and green eyes filled with worry looking at me, just before the world goes black.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Jez

  Her eyeballs are flickering under her eyelids, so at least I know she’s alive.

  I lift her over my shoulder, and search for the nearest exit. Mike, our body guard, is next to me in an instant.

  “Over to the left,” he growls into my ear and clears a path for us to the door at the side of the bar. There’s a guy stationed there, and Mike talks to him for a moment, before waving me through.

  He pushes the door open and suddenly we’re outside. The cool air fresh against the back of my neck.

  “Can you find a bo
ttle of water?” I say to Mike, and he nods and goes back inside. I lay her down, propped up against the wall.

  “Hey, Toilet Girl,” I say, patting her gently on the cheek. “You okay?”

  She stirs and her eyelids flutter for a moment. “Stop calling me that,” she murmurs, her voice groggy and barely audible. She takes another breath and her eyes open wider, looking around. “What happened?”

  I breathe a sigh of relief to hear her speak, “I don’t know. You just kinda decided you didn’t want to stand up any more.”

  “Damn. How embarrassing.” She shuffles back so she’s sitting upright, her back flush against the wall.

  “Nah, it’s okay. You knighted me, so it’s only right I fulfil my duty of saving a damsel in distress.”

  “I was not in distress,” she glares at me, seemingly regaining full strength.

  “What about the phone in the urinal part?” I say, pointedly.

  She scrunches up her face, and it’s hard not to note how cute she looks when she does that. “Yeah, okay, that was kind of distressing.” She pulls her sweater tighter around her body. “Sorry. And thanks.”

  “No problem. Are you cold?”

  She shakes her head and takes a deep breath, slow and steady, then exhales, the color fast returning to her face. “I get claustrophobic sometimes. It was just so loud and crowded in there. Guess I found it a bit overwhelming.

  I wave her explanations away. “It’s fine. My friend’s just gone back inside to get some water. He won’t be long.”

  “Oh. That’s okay. I should get back inside, anyway. My friend is waiting for me.”

  “Your boyfriend?” I ask. Hoping she’ll vigorously deny having one.

  “What?”

  “Before, when I came out of the restroom, you asked if your boyfriend was in there.” And he was also there basically dry humping you at the bar, I think to myself and somehow managing to keep quiet. Try not to sound like a stalker, Jez.

  “Oh, yeah. I, er, I better get back inside.” She pulls her legs under her and gets ready to push herself up. I know I should offer her my hand but I don’t really want her to go. I’m not sure what’s drawing me to this woman, but I don’t want our interaction to end just yet. As bizarre as it’s been so far.