Rock the Band

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Rock the Band Page 6

by Michelle A. Valentine


  What did I have to apologize for?

  “Hey. You okay?” Lane asked her face etched with concern.

  “I’m fine, just tired,” I lied.

  I didn’t want Lane or anybody to know how much not having a relationship with my father bothered me. It was better for people to think I hated him versus being the sad, pathetic sap not even a parent could love.

  Kyle parked along the street, just in between the jewelry store and the shoe store. It was nearly the perfect set up. Now the trick was going to be getting in and out of there without Lane getting suspicious or figuring out what I was doing. She hated when I did things that she thought pushed our relationship too fast. She’d kill me if she knew what I was up to already.

  Having this ring would show her I meant business.

  “This is perfect, Kyle. Thanks,” I said.

  He flicked his gaze to the review mirror, and he nodded, understanding my secret code.

  I helped Lane out of the SUV, and as if on cue, my cell rang. I peered down at the caller I.D. and frowned. “I have to take this. You guys go on in. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  I kissed Lane’s cheek as Kyle led her into the shoe store. As soon as Lane turned her back I swiped my thumb over the end call button and pressed the phone to my ear. It really was a touch of pure genius when I arranged Kyle to call my cell just outside the store. A phone call was a believable diversion to distract Lane long enough without getting her suspicions up.

  Less than thirty seconds later, I stepped inside. The privately owned store was small, but there were amazing looking pieces inside the glass show cases. Each diamond seemed to outshine the next as I made my way down the counter to greet the white haired salesman at the end.

  “Hi.” I cleared my throat. All of the sudden my stomach clenched, and I felt a slight tingle of excitement inside my chest. This was it—the next to last step in getting Lane to agree to marry me.

  “Yeah, hi,” I tried again. “I called earlier about holding a ring for me.”

  The older man’s eyes lit up, and his smiled caused deep crinkle lines around his eyes to form. “Ah, yes, Mr. Falcon. I have that piece right here for you.”

  He unlocked the safe behind him with a key that was attached to a bracelet he wore around his wrist. He removed a ring set in a tiny black velvet box and placed it on the glass counter in front of me. As promised, it was the exact ring I had picked out online. The single diamond gleamed against the lights in the shop, and my heart squeezed almost painfully. It was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen. Not so much the ring itself, but what it stood for.

  Instantly, I saw Lane’s face in my mind. What it would look like when she saw it. The way her mouth would move when she said the one tiny word I longed to hear when I gave it to her. Yes.

  This was the ring. It was like it was made just for her, and I wanted to be the man who gave it to her.

  “I’ll take it,” I told the man as I ripped my wallet from my back pocket.

  He nodded curtly and eagerly took the card from my hand and swiped it nearly immediately, before returning with the card and slip for me to sign.

  My sloppy signature graced the receipt for ten thousand dollars. Granted it wasn’t the typical million dollar ring most stars bought when they got married, but Lane and I weren’t like everyone else. We were just us, plain and simple, a lot like the ring itself.

  “Thank you for your business, Mr. Falcon. I wish the best to you and your love,” the man said as he attempted to place the ring box and paperwork in a bag.

  I shook my head. “No bag or paperwork needed.”

  The old man shrugged as I slipped the ring box safely into my front pocket before making my way out of the store.

  Twenty minutes later, Lane had picked two new pairs of shoes, and we were on our way back to Big Bertha. We were scheduled to leave for the next city on the tour, which I believed was Atlanta, in about an hour. Proposing on the bus wasn’t ideal, neither was in the back of this vehicle with Kyle right up front, but this ring was burning a hole in my pocket. Plus, I couldn’t wait to see it on her finger.

  I took her left hand into both of mine as she stared off over my right shoulder at the passing building. A cold sweat broke out all over my body. What the hell was wrong with me? I could sing in front of thousands of people without so much as a second thought, but was freaking out over asking my best friend and long-time love to marry me.

  Get it together, Noel!

  Lane turned towards me and glanced down at my hands clinging to her. “You okay?”

  I nodded a little too enthusiastically. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m great.”

  An uneasy laugh came out of her as she studied me intently.

  Shit. My mind was blank. Writing songs about love and loss with her in mind, even with dyslexia, came easy, but phrasing something amazing that would blow her away on the spot was kicking my ass. No words came to mind to describe just how much she meant to me.

  She opened her mouth then quickly closed it before digging her phone from her pocket. Her mother’s signature ringtone filled the air.

  “Sorry,” she apologized to me before answering her phone. “Hi, Mom.”

  Never had I been so glad for a couple minute reprieve in order to get my nerves together and pound this muddled mess in my brain down into something that made sense.

  “What?” Lane’s voice kicked up a couple octaves, and she flinched. “What do you mean broke your leg? Oh my God, Mom! Are you okay?”

  I held her hand tighter, but not for the same reason as before. Now, I was worried. Kathy was like a second mother to me, and I was concerned for her well-being.

  “Okay, I’m coming down there. As soon as I get back to the bus, I’ll get packed and book a flight.”

  Shit. I settled back in the seat. This wasn’t the time to give her the ring. It was best if I waited a couple days until she came back from helping out her mom.

  A couple minutes later we parked next to the bus, and Lane ended her call. “So, Mom took a nasty fall while trying to clear a bird’s nest from the gutter on her house. She broke her right leg in two places and needs surgery.”

  “That’s terrible. Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “No, but I will have to go help her for a while. Hopefully, Striker will understand that I won’t be around to consult, and he’ll be okay with working with me via email until Mom’s back on her feet.”

  I knitted my brow in confusion. I didn’t like the sound of this. “How long will you be gone?”

  Lane frowned, and my stomach dropped. That was the face she got when she was about to tell me something I didn’t want to hear. “I don’t know. I guess as long as it takes to get her back on her feet.”

  “Any idea how long that will be?”

  Her frown deepened. “The surgeon she just saw said it would be six to eight weeks of recovery.”

  Six to eight weeks? How the fuck would I make it without her that long?

  Shit.

  “I’ll go with you. We’ll leave tonight.” It was the only logical solution I could come up with.

  She shook her head. “No, Noel. You can’t. There are a string of shows you’re booked for. Maybe when you get done—”

  “No. I can’t be without you.” The thought of not seeing that angel face everyday was a weight that nearly crushed me.

  “You aren’t coming with me.”

  I flinched. “You don’t want me there?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Then what’s the problem?” She wasn’t making any sense.

  “I won’t hold you back from your dream. Finish this tour. I’m not going anywhere this time. I promise.”

  She was right. A lot of people were counting on us. The roadies and production people didn’t get paid if we didn’t play. I couldn’t be selfish in this situation, even though I really, really wanted to.

  “Okay, fine. But can I spend every off day I have with you?”

  “I can’t let yo
u spend all that money flying back to see me every spare moment you get.”

  “Money isn’t a problem for me, Lane. You know that. All that matters to me is being with you every second I can.”

  She sighed and reached her dainty fingers up to touch my face. “Sometimes you seem too good to be real.”

  I stared into her green eyes and threaded my fingers into her dark hair. “Now you know exactly how I feel about you.”

  Chapter 10

  The bus felt cold without her. I lay on the bed and stretched my hand over to touch the pillow where her head typically laid. It’s only been a couple hours, and I was already losing my shit.

  It was early, and I wasn’t tired, but I didn’t feel much like being social.

  I picked up my cell and checked the time. In about ten minutes, her plane would land, and I could call and make sure she got there safe. Traveling alone wasn’t something I liked her doing. There were too many crazies out there, and I wouldn’t be there to shield her from them.

  A knock on the door startled me from my thoughts. “Come in.”

  Riff pushed the door open and stood in the doorway. “We’re about to start a Halo campaign. You in?”

  This felt like old times—the bus rolling down a lonely stretch of highway while we kicked each other’s asses in a war video game. It was the best way we found to pass the time, other than sleeping, when we were cooped up inside Big Bertha for hours on end.

  But right now, I wanted to wallow in my sadness over being without Lane. “Nah, I’m pretty tired.”

  Riff folded his arms across his chest while his crazy Mohawk stood high on the top of his head. “Dude, I know you miss her, but you can’t mope around in this room the entire time she’s gone. It’s not healthy.”

  I sighed. “I know, but it’s hard to be without her.”

  He nodded. “I know what you mean, but still you have to live, man. She won’t be gone for ever.”

  That was true. I would see her again in a week when I got a three-day break between shows, but until then, I didn’t see anything wrong with a little depression. “I get it. But I’m really just tired. It’s been a long day.”

  A sarcastic laugh tumbled from his mouth. “Kyle took you shopping all day, how stressful could that be?”

  Since he was my best friend, I needed to share with him my true venture of the day, so I fished the ring box from my pocket. “It was kind of a big deal.”

  I held it between my thumb and index finger for Riff’s inspection. His eyes widened. “Holy shit! Does she know you have that?”

  I shook my head. “Nope.” I sighed. “She left before I got a chance to ask her.”

  “That’s a huge deal. You sure about this? Don’t you think you should wait awhile?”

  “No. It’s the right time. It’s something I’ve thought about doing since high school. Plus, that douchebag, Striker, keeps sniffing around her. What better way to show him she’s off the market?”

  Riff took the box and opened it up and let out a low whistle. “Well, don’t rush in because you feel threatened by Striker. She loves you. Any idiot can see that.”

  That was what I thought too, but apparently Striker was the only blind man around. “Like I said, it’s not just for his benefit. This is something I want. I want her to know I’m committed to her.”

  He handed me back the box. “If you’re sure, then I’m happy for you. Now, get your ass up, and come help me whoop Trip’s ass. I’m not taking no for an answer. I need my wingman.”

  I sat up and tucked the box back in my pocket, a little less heavy-hearted, and readied myself for some guy time.

  An hour and a half into the game my cell rang. I checked the I.D. and felt a little silly for the sheer amount giddiness that rolled inside me from seeing Lane’s name. I hoped the guys didn’t notice. I’d never hear the end of it.

  I pressed the phone to my ear after I rubbed my thumb over the green answer button. “Hey.”

  “God, I miss you.” It was awesome to hear she was feeling the exact same way I did. “A week is so long.”

  “Too long,” I agreed.

  “Well, maybe I’ll actually get some work done this week without you here to distract me all the time.”

  I laughed. “So glad you’re looking forward to being without me.”

  “You know what I mean,” she chided. “It’ll be nice to have my proposal done for Striker this week.”

  The name Striker coming from those beautiful lips was just plain wrong. “Let’s not talk about him.”

  “Noel…” Her voice held a warning.

  “I’m not jealous or anything. I just don’t like him.” Honesty was the best policy about my thoughts that revolved around him.

  Normally I would never have believed Lane would’ve gone for a guy like that, but after that night in the bar, I knew different. It was hard to get the vision of how he touched her that night when they danced out of my head. I snapped when I saw he was about to kiss her, and she was going to let him. Things in me went crazy and I attacked him to keep that from happening.

  Lane sighed into the phone. “Okay, no more talk about him.”

  “Thank you.” I paused. “Have you made it to the hospital yet?”

  “I just pulled in the parking lot and wanted to call you before I went inside to tell you that I love you and miss you already.”

  The heart in my chest swelled. “I love you, too. Tell your mom I hope she gets back on her feet soon. I want to show her my mad pancake flipping skills.”

  She laughed. “Will do.”

  After the call ended, I felt better about missing her somehow. It gave me comfort to know I’d be with her soon and that I could call her anytime I wanted.

  ****

  The next show was in Orlando, and it was an outdoors. Singing to a sold out crowd of over twenty thousand people always got me amped. It was still surreal at times that we had the amount of fans we did. And man, some of them were dedicated.

  Backstage I watched as Embrace the Darkness ended their set. It was really starting to get under my skin that Striker and his band were getting a lot of notoriety.

  He seemed to really enjoy hoarding on things that were mine—fans and Lane—things that meant the most to me.

  Striker sauntered off the stage with that cocky grin he wore half the time I saw him. “Try not to chase the fans off, too,” he commented as he walked past me.

  I narrowed my eyes. “What the fuck is that suppose to mean?”

  He spun on his heel to face me. “It means you’re really good at driving things away. Careful, mate, or you’ll drive more than your fans straight to me.”

  I closed the gap between us. “Try something with her, fucker. Give me one more reason to beat your ass.”

  He laughed. “You don’t scare me, Falcon. I’m just waiting for you to fuck up before I make my move on Lane. She’s too good for you.”

  Every muscle in my body shook and spots clouded my vision. On instinct, my fist drew back ready to blast Striker in his smug face.

  My arm snapped forward, stopping inches from my target. I jerked my arm hard, so caught up in my anger I didn’t notice Riff had my arm hooked in his.

  Riff dragged me back. “He’s not worth it.”

  My nostrils flared, and my brain couldn’t absorb his words. “He needs to stop trying to fuck my girl.”

  Striker laughed as he stalked off, my heart still hammered hard as every piece of me still wanted to tackle him with full force.

  Riff shoved me back. “Noel, dude, calm the fuck down. He’s just trying to get to you and you’re letting him. This is exactly what he wants—you to doubt Lane and drive her straight to him. Don’t let that happen. Lane loves you.”

  My chest heaved as my body was still in fight mode. “You’re right.”

  I scrubbed my hands down my face and took a deep breath. Striker found my weakness, and he took full advantage of it.

  Trusting Lane wasn’t the issue, but knowing Striker was set on t
aking her from me ramped me up even more to stake my claim on her for the world to see.

  Chapter 11

  After two weeks of being without Lane, I still missed her like crazy. Life just wasn’t the same without her.

  I rolled over and I picked up my cell and searched out her number. I needed her voice to be the first thing that I heard in the mornings. It was our new morning call routine and it was one of the only things that kept me going.

  It rang a couple times before Lane’s groggy voice answered. “Hey.”

  “Hey, baby. I didn’t wake you, did I?”

  “Oh, no. I was awake.”

  My brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m feeling a little sick again,” she answered.

  “Are you having the same symptoms as before?” I questioned again.

  “I wish.” She sighed. “I’m been sick to my stomach all morning.”

  I rubbed some sleep from my eye. “You’ve been throwing up?”

  “Yeah, but thank God I was able to bring Mom home after surgery last night. It would’ve been hell to feel like this at the hospital.”

  I sat up in bed and then tossed my legs over the edge. “I’m coming down there.”

  “Noel, you have shows to do.”

  I shook my head even though she couldn’t see me and hopped out of bed. “To hell with the shows, Lane. You need me, I’m coming down.”

  My suitcase was out on the bed before I even finished my last sentence.

  “I’m fine, really.” She was trying to convince me, but I knew she needed me. Kathy needed help getting around after her surgery, and Lane wouldn’t be much help to her if she wasn’t a hundred percent herself.

  “I’m taking the next flight in what ever city we’re closest to.”

  “Noel—”

  “No more arguing about this, Lane. I want to come. Please don’t fight me.” I threw some clothes in the bag and zipped it up.

  “Okay.” I could hear the reluctance in her voice but pumped my fist anyway.

  “I love you, and I’ll see you soon,” I told her before I ended our call.

 

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