Rocking Her Heart
by
MELANIE SHAWN
Melanie Shawn © 2018
Google Play Edition
All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this book. No part of this may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission in writing from Melanie Shawn. Exceptions are limited to reviewers who may use brief quotations in connection with reviews. No part of this book can be transmitted, scanned, reproduced, or distributed in any written or electronic form without written permission from Melanie Shawn.
This book is a work of fiction. Places, names, characters and events are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Disclaimer: The material in this book is for mature audiences only and contains graphic content. It is intended only for those aged 18 and older.
Cover Design by Wildcat Dezigns
Copyedit by CookieLynn Publishing
Book Design by BB eBooks
Published by Red Hot Reads Publishing
Rev. 1.0
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Epilogue
Playing By Heart
Resisting Romeo
Other Titles by Melanie Shawn
About the Author
Prologue
“Valentine Frontman Jet Valentine in Seclusion as Band Disintegrates Mid-Tour”
Oh, my dear readers, do I have a scoop for you. You follow me for all the breaking drama in the world of movies, television, and music and the tidbit I have for you today is exactly that: DRAMA.
Yes, that’s right. It’s a sad, sad day for fans of mega-successful rock group Valentine, ladies and gentlemen. Rumor has it that lead singer and founder Jet Valentine has been kicked out of his own band!
Multiple sources have confirmed that shows remaining on Valentine’s current tour are in the process of being cancelled. As for ticket holders? Well, apparently it’s too bad, so sad. Refunds should be on the way, but that leaves some very unhappy promoters and more than one little birdie has told me that legal action may well be forthcoming.
No word on the reason for the ouster, although Jet Valentine’s well-documented history of erratic behavior makes that particular mystery slightly less mysterious.
Just a little refresher, for those of you late to the saga: there was the time he stumbled around the stage through half of the opening song and vomited spectacularly all over the first row. Those poor concertgoers must’ve thought they were at Sea World, but with an even worse odor, if that’s possible.
The well-documented occasion when he climbed on the bar at Miami’s Club Caliente like he was starring in Coyote Ugly meets Magic Mike and stripped right down to his birthday suit, to the utter delight of thousands of club goers who captured every delicious second on their smartphones… and, of course, of every appreciator of the male form who watched the video later.
Then there was the time he punched A-Lister Kyle Austen Reed on the red carpet – at a fundraising event for Reed’s charity The Angel Network, no less! It was clear Valentine was no angel that night and was only lucky the Oscar-winning philanthropist declined to press charges.
And I would imagine those examples, and the many others made public, are merely the tip of the crazytown iceberg. The more I think about it, in fact, the most surprising thing about this story seems to be that his band actually kept him around for as long as they did!
As for the man at the eye of this storm? Well, no one seems to know where the bad boy of rock and roll has hidden away. His publicist put out a statement—don’t they always?—saying the rock reject would be taking some time for himself while he dealt with personal issues. Vague much?
So, tell me what you think, dear readers. I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments below.
So many questions swirl around this situation. Is Jet in rehab? Will anyone want to see the band Valentine sans its namesake’s founder? Is this the beginning of an epic downward spiral for the disgraced former frontman, or will it be the wake-up call he needs to pull his train wreck of a life together?
And, of course, the burning question on everyone’s mind – WHERE IN THE WORLD IS JET VALENTINE?
Chapter 1
Jet
“Valentine Frontman Jet Valentine in Seclusion as Band Disintegrates Mid-Tour”
Fuck.
Jet snapped the magnetic cover of his iPad closed, wishing he could block out the words in the article as easily in his mind as he could on the screen.
One of the guys in the band must’ve talked to the press. There was no other way the story could’ve leaked. He didn’t know which of them it’d been, but that was only because he suspected all of them equally, not because he couldn’t believe it of any of them.
Jet’s publicist had put out the statement about him being unable to finish the tour because he was dealing with a personal problem. Keeping it vague, letting people speculate about what it might be. Bender. Rehab. Illness. None of those made him look great, but all of them made him look better than the truth.
He’d actually been kicked out of the band that he’d started. The band whose name was his damn surname! How was that possible?
Of course, technically, he hadn’t been kicked out. It was just that every other member had left. Simultaneously. So…same difference.
His whole life had blown up in front of his eyes the day before, when Angelo Daneti, the bassist, had called a band meeting.
Jet had stormed into it, loaded for bear. Who the hell was Angelo to call a band meeting? Was the band called Daneti? Fuck, no. It was called Valentine, and that was going to be the first thing he said.
As it happened, he didn’t have a chance. They walked in, accompanied by their manager Harry, and laid it all out, swift and sharp.
He’d been acting more and more like a prick for the past few years and even though people had tried to talk to him, it had only gotten worse. He’d missed shows with no notice. He’d wrecked hotel rooms and green rooms. His behavior was costing them close to what they were making some months, and leaving them open for legal action in others.
And they were done. End of story. No discussion.
Then they’d walked out. Walked. Fucking. Out.
He’d been seeing red, so livid he couldn’t even think straight. He kicked a couple of chairs and overturned a table.
How dare those assholes walk out on me? On me, of all people! I’m the fucking star! I’m the lead singer. It’s my goddamn band; just look at the name!
He picked up a vase and was right on the verge of smashing it to the ground – the first step in what was sure to be the latest in a spectacular series of hotel room trashings over the
years – when something truly remarkable happened.
He heard a voice in his head, so clear that it could’ve been coming from right next to his ear, although he knew that it wasn’t. It couldn’t be, because the person it belonged to was his mother, and she’d been gone for over five years.
“Jet Valentine,” the words echoed in his mind, “how dare you behave this way. This is not the way your father and I raised you. I’m so ashamed of you right now I can’t stand it.”
The vase fell to the floor and smashed into a thousand pieces, but not because he’d hurled it there as he’d been planning. Shock had turned his fingers to ice and it slipped from his grasp like butter.
Tears sprang to his eyes, like they always did when he thought about his parents, who had both died the same night in a car accident. The grief was still so crushing, in fact, that he made it a point never to think about them, but to use booze and women and fame and performing as convenient distractions.
But now his mother’s voice rang through his thoughts with such bell-like clarity that they couldn’t be denied. There was no amount of Jack Daniels that would drown them out, and he had a suspicion that throwing a temper tantrum and trashing the room would only make them come through even louder and clearer.
In a sudden flash of painful insight, he saw his actions through his mother’s eyes – and not just the vase, or the destructive fit he’d been about to throw. He saw the childishness that he’d come into the meeting with, furious that anyone else in the band would dare to want to have a conversation if he hadn’t initiated it.
He saw how his first instinct had been to ignore all of their complaints, but rather focus on how he couldn’t believe they were treating the star this way.
Worst of all, he’d acted this way a hundred times in the past five years. Shit, probably a thousand times.
His belly filled with roiling shame, so thick he thought he might vomit it up. He squeezed his eyes tight shut, but found it impossible to shut the feelings out. After all, they were coming from inside of him, not in front of his eyes. It would’ve been so much easier if they were.
“What can I do?” he whispered. “How can I make it up to you?”
On some level, he realized that he was probably cracking under the stress of having lost everything he depended on in the space of about ten minutes. He was, after all, whispering questions to a voice he could only hear inside his head.
On the positive side, he didn’t fully expect to hear an answer. On the negative side…he really hoped he would.
He did hear his beloved mother’s voice ring through his head again, one last time, and it was just as clear as the first. Her answer was short and to the point. “Become the man I know you can be. Live up to who you really are, and who I raised you to be.”
That was no small task, but his mother hadn’t been the kind of woman he argued with and he had no plans to start now. If she was sending him a message that he had to make a change, to get back to his true self, then he was damn sure going to do it.
And there was only one place he could go.
That’s how he found himself on a plane, barely twenty-four hours after the fateful meeting, heading back to the town where he’d grown up.
He didn’t know if he could become the best version of himself, but if he had any chance at all, it was going to be in Valentine Bay.
There was one person there who might be able to help him, if anyone could. She’d always pushed him to be better. Not because she’d been supportive. Hell, no. They’d always been in competition. But whenever they’d been striving for the same goal, he’d reached heights he never would’ve come close to without her.
“Abby,” he whispered under his breath.
He didn’t know if she still lived there, but deep inside, he hoped like hell she did. If there was anyone who could whip his ass into shape, it was Abby.
Chapter 2
Abby
“Valentine Frontman Jet Valentine in Seclusion as Band Disintegrates Mid-Tour”
A tremble ran through Abby’s entire body as her eyes scanned the article that sat underneath the headline. Jet was in real trouble. Hurting.
Over the past couple of years, the entertainment news websites had become increasingly full of his antics. Drunken rages, missing concerts, or falling apart onstage. Altercations in nightclubs. DUI arrests.
To the rest of the world he must look like a spoiled little rock star, acting out because he needed attention or because he had a serious case of lacking gratitude for the blessings life had bestowed on him. And, sure, that was probably part of it.
But Abby had known him since they were little kids, and she’d seen him throw tantrums. She knew what triggered them – fear of losing control.
This rock star bad behavior was basically just an adult version of the tantrums he’d thrown when they were young, and she was certain it was caused by the same thing.
It had all started when Jet’s parents had died five years before and had steadily escalated since then. Her heart went out to him. It actually skipped a few beats.
He must be so upset. So lost.
The deep ache in her soul, the compassion she held for his situation, was not something she would ever admit if they happened to see each other. That just wasn’t how they were. It wasn’t their vibe.
In fact, a small glow grew in her chest as she remembered some of their epic banter battles. Busting each other’s balls was the way they related to each other. It was how they showed they cared.
“Hey, girly. What are you reading? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Abby’s head snapped up at her friend Ella. She hastily swiped the screen to lock her phone. “Oh, nothing. Just…you know how the news can be. Depressing.”
Ella nodded. “I know. That’s why I try to steer clear of it. It can just be too much.”
“Yeah.”
Abby’s heart pounded at the close call. So far, she’d been able to keep her habit of keeping track of Jet’s life a secret, and she hoped to keep that trend going for at least the next forever or so.
The two friends that she was meeting for coffee today, Ella and Gen, were absolutely the last two people she’d ever want to find out that she still thought about Jet Valentine. They were each dating one of his brothers, and if the cat got out of the bag around them, she was sure it wouldn’t be long until that damn noisy cat was meowing at Jet himself.
She couldn’t have that. If he found out that she had…well, if she was honest, something resembling feelings for him…God, she’d never hear the end of it.
In their constant exchange of points in a running tally to see which of them was “winning,” that would be the ultimate defeat.
“Hey, hot mamas. What’s shakin’?”
Gen popped into the coffee shop, changing the atmosphere in the place like a whirlwind. That was the force of her friend’s personality and magnetism – every time she walked into a room, all eyes turned on her. It had been that way since they were in high school, and in this instance especially, Abby was grateful for it. Anything that distracted from what she’d been doing would help.
“Abby’s been depressing herself by reading the local news on her phone,” Ella said as Gen settled herself in the third chair that sat around the small, round coffee shop table.
Yes! Abby hadn’t specified what kind of news she’d been reading, but in the game of telephone that was human communication. Ella’s brain had filled in her own assumption and incorporated it as part of the story, and Abby was so freaking thankful for that quirk of human psychology at that moment she could have kissed Ella’s brain, gray squishiness and all.
Gen rolled her eyes. “Oh, God. You wanna talk depressing? Forget the local news. Have you guys seen what’s going on with Jet? There were a ton of articles all over the gossip sites this morning.”
Ella’s eyes widened. “No! I went into the studio early and had my phone off. What’s going on with Jet? Is he all right?”
Abby feign
ed ignorance, following along in Ella’s wake like a water skier pulled behind a speedboat. “Yeah, what’s going on with Jet?”
“Oh, God. His band is breaking up. Honestly, I’m surprised it took this long with all his shitty behavior the last few years. Apparently there are a bunch of cancelled concert dates and promoters are talking about suing, and it’s just all really ugly.”
“Oh, no!” Ella exclaimed. “I should call Donovan.”
“Yeah, and I haven’t even gotten to the worst part yet,” Gen continued. “Jet’s apparently gone into some kind of hiding, and no one knows where he is or how to get a hold of him. Gavin’s even freaked out, and you know him. Mister Stoic.”
“Okay, that’s it. I’m going to call Donovan.” Ella hustled out of the coffee shop, phone in hand, already furiously tapping icons to get to the screen where she could dial her fiancé.
They watched her for a moment through the oversized window that fronted the coffee shop. She stood on the sidewalk, her face the picture of concern as she talked to Jet’s brother.
Finally, Gen turned back to Abby, a twinkle in her eye. “So. Are you sure you hadn’t already heard the news about Jet?”
Abby froze, ice water running through her veins, tingles skittering over her skin. She did her level best to keep her face neutral and tone even. “What do you mean?”
Gen shrugged. “I don’t know. I just always thought that you two had… a vibe. A connection.”
Abby screwed up her face. She made a point to keep it kind of subtle, though. She didn’t want to fall prey to protests-too-much-itis. That disease had been the killer of many a lie, and she wouldn’t let it take hers down. “If by connection you mean competition, and if by vibe you mean constant bickering, then yeah. Connection and vibe. That was us.”
Gen chuckled. “Yeah. That actually was what I meant. Trust me. All that arguing was masking mega sexual tension.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Crazy like a fox. Trust me. I know what I’m talking about. You two are headed for the bone zone at some point, and it’s going to be freaking epic.”
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