Rock Mayhem: 8 Complete Rock Star Romance Novels

by Candy J. Starr

  I hoped the sincerity of my words shone in my eyes. I'd hate her to think I was feeding her some lines. I wasn't doing that. I only had my words, and they had to ring true.

  She stared at the table. At least she didn't move away. She stared for a long time. I had no idea what she was thinking. I wanted to reach out for her hand, but I stifled the impulse. I wouldn't try to convince her to do something she wasn't comfortable with. I wanted her to be comfortable. No, more than comfortable. I wanted her to be enthusiastic, ecstatic.

  Instead, I picked at the fries I'd ordered and took a sip of my coffee. It was horrible, but the warmth of it helped me connect to the things around me. Otherwise, I'd be going out of my mind waiting for her answer. I willed her to look up and say "yes", but it was going to take more than my will to get her to do that.

  She still hadn't answered when the other waitress called out to her. "I've got to go, really this time," she said. "I need this job."

  "Think about it, and come to the hotel tomorrow if you agree. I'll be there until around 4:00. If you don't turn up, I'll know you aren't interested."

  Maybe I'd put too much on her out of the blue. After all, a person might want to think things over. That was reasonable. Even so, we didn't have much time. Not much at all.

  She nodded. "I'll think about it."

  With that, she went off, disappearing into the back of the cafe.

  I left without finishing my food. I didn't have an appetite.

  I'd found her, and I wasn't sure whether to be happy or sad. But I'd given it my best shot. I couldn't do any more than that. It was all up to her now.

  The city was coming to life as I walked back to the hotel, and the first glow of the sun brightened the sky. People set up shop for the day. The smell of freshly baked bread hit me as I passed a bakery. Outside another store, they unloaded buckets of flowers. The world swarmed around me. One minute I was confident she'd Rose would turn up, almost dancing. The next, I convinced myself I'd never see her again. My body became taut with the tension of it, my mind buzzed.

  Through all that, one thought hit me. What was Rose doing working at the cafe? Not that there was anything wrong with waitressing, but working at a late-night cafe didn't jell with the expensive clothes and the designer handbag. There was something wrong somewhere.

  Elijah

  I KNEW I HAD TO WORK on my song, but I couldn't settle the next day. Hell no. My life hung in the balance, waiting for Rose to show up. This thing gurgled inside me, keeping me on edge. Every time I picked up the guitar, my fingers turned to bananas, too fat and awkward to play. I'd been like that for hours. I'd barely slept.

  I couldn't help but create a million scenarios. Things I'd do with Rose, things I'd experience for the first time. I wanted to buy her pretty things and take her to amazing restaurants. These few days would be the most magical days of her life. Nothing would be too good for her. All she had to do was show up. I'd race to take her in my arms and make sure she was so happy, she'd never leave me again. That frown, those lines that had been between her eyes last night, would disappear. We'd have a love that would set the world on fire. I'd sweep her off her feet so completely that nothing else would matter to her.

  My phone rang, and I flung aside the guitar to answer it.

  It was Housekeeping, wanting to know if I wanted my linen changed.

  "No!"

  "It hasn't been changed since you checked in."

  "That's fine." I hung up.

  How dare they get me all excited like that? All day, my nerves strained to hear that phone ring. But time crept on, and Rose still hadn't appeared. I'd checked my watch every minute. I'd even put it to my ear to make it was working. I couldn't phone the front desk to ask if she'd turned up, as much as that tempted me. I wanted to go to the lobby in case she'd appeared but was wavering about coming up to my room. Maybe I should've arranged to meet her on neutral ground.

  I went into the bathroom to make sure I looked okay. Then I picked up the guitar, determined to forget about all this and focus on my song. I had to play it for Damo, and it was still nothing. Barely the beginning of anything. The weight of emotion I wanted to put into the song was too immense, and it just kept growing. I wasn't even sure one little song could contain everything. That was asking a lot.

  Soon, Polly would want her guitar back, too.

  When it got to 3:30, I knew I had to let go of all my dreams. Rose wouldn't turn up. I'd said 4:00, but if she wanted to see me, she'd have been here by now. She hadn't wanted to refuse me to my face, so she'd lied to get rid of me.

  I set the guitar down again, and all the life drained from my body. I had no other options. If she didn't show, I couldn't keep chasing her.

  Things didn't seem right. Had she gotten into a car crash? I hoped not. Maybe the trains were on strike. I checked the news on my phone. Nothing at all to say anything was wrong in the city. Why hadn't I asked for her number? I'd been too dumbfounded just seeing her to think of anything sensible.

  I picked up my room phone to make sure it worked. It'd be a bitch if they'd been trying to call me and the phone didn't function. I heard the regular buzz, though.

  Finally, I had to let go and get ready to go to sound check. I'd have to humiliate myself in front of Damo with my unfinished song on top of everything else. The last thing I felt like doing was putting myself up for judgment. My heart was already sorely bruised, but I needed to push those feelings aside and get through tonight.

  I went to brush my teeth. As I did, I looked at myself in the mirror. Hell, I wasn't even that good-looking. I mean, I had great hair and great cheekbones, but was that enough? It'd been a while since I'd shaved, but I'd always thought that stubble made me look cooler and more manly. Maybe I'd been wrong.

  Women threw themselves at me, and I'd thought that made me a god, but if they were willing to hook up with Fartstard as a backup option, their standards couldn't be that high to start with.

  I was about to leave my room when someone knocked on the door. My heart pounded, but it wouldn't be Rose. They'd call from the front desk, not just let her up. It'd be Housekeeping. Or maybe Fay or someone.

  I opened the door, ready to get angry.

  But it was Rose. She'd come. The breath left my body like I'd been punched in the chest. I put my hand on the door frame to steady myself, then just stared at her, not sure if she was real.

  I wanted to gather her into my arms, but I froze. My heart pounded like a sonic boom, but I couldn't overwhelm her, not now. It'd taken so much to get her here. I'd tread gently for a while.

  But she was here, and we'd be together.

  She was here.

  Elijah

  ROSE CAME WITH ME TO the show that night, but we didn't have much time to talk beforehand. I had to play my song for Damo, and I didn't want to do it in front of her. It was bad enough playing it for Damo, this cringeworthy little half-baked tune. Normally, I didn't get nervous, but my hands trembled as I sat down with the guitar.

  "It's not finished," I said to him. "It's not nearly finished."

  He grinned. "Just play what you have."

  I inhaled. I needed to start playing, but my body told me to flee. What an idiot. I was just playing for Damo and Crow. My buddies. I'd known them forever. It wasn't like they wanted to crush me. Well, Damo could be a bit crushing. Not on purpose, just when other people didn't live up to his standards.

  I hadn't realized until I sat down how much his opinion mattered to me. Normally, we had clearly defined lines. He did his thing, I did mine. But this songwriting thing was veering right into his territory. The place where he was a master.

  "Are you going to start?" Damo said, looking at his watch. "We don't have all night."

  I began playing. Then I stopped. I'd screwed it up. "No, that's not right."

  I really did look like an idiot. The biggest idiot. Then Crow grinned at me. Hell, I might be an idiot, but that guy had nearly shat himself onstage. Writing a crappy song was nothing compared to that. H
e'd never live it down.

  I began again, thinking about Rose and how happy she'd made me when she appeared at my door. The song sounded better than ever. By the time I got to the chorus, I'd settled in with it. The nerves were gone. I'd forgotten Damo was here to judge me and just took pleasure in my own playing.

  When I finished, I set the guitar down. Damo hadn't said a word, and I didn't look at him. I'd rather he say nothing than criticize me. And I definitely rather silence to laughter, but still, the air was tense.

  "I should get back to Rose, I guess," I said. I didn't want to force him to say lukewarm words.

  "Wait," Damo said. "It's not bad. Not bad at all. There are a few bits that need work. If you have some time tomorrow, we can go through it."

  That was high praise from Damo. He wasn't the gushy type, for sure. I wanted to spend all day tomorrow with Rose since we had such limited little time, but I couldn't say no to Damo, either. He didn't make offers like that lightly. I was sure I could work something out. If he thought my song was worthless, he sure as hell wouldn't have offered to help.

  "Sure," I said.

  "I know you've been working hard on this," he said. "We just need to give it a bit of polish."

  I nodded. I didn't want to say, but it made me so happy that he hadn't laughed and told me to forget any songwriting ambitions I might have had. That had been my fear, that they'd both laugh and make a joke out of me wanting to write a song. If they'd done that, I would have had to pretend it was a joke too. Stupid Elijah, thinking he could write a song. When I'd first gotten the idea, I'd thought songwriting would be simple, but it really wasn't. I'd never underestimate people who did that again. Creating something out of nothing was a real skill.

  Tonight was the greatest night of my life. I had Rose. My song was coming together, and now we had a show to play. I soared, my feet hardly touched the ground.

  "Sorry to leave you alone," I said when I got back to our dressing room.

  I wanted to scoop her up in my arms and kiss her hard to make up for the time I'd been away from her, but I wasn't sure she'd be comfortable with me doing that in front of everyone. I almost never hesitated in my impulses, but I had to think of someone else now and not just myself. I couldn't be my old selfish self.

  "I didn't mind. I should've shown up earlier."

  I put my arm around her shoulder. "At least you showed up."

  I think my happiness shone out of me like radiant sunbeams.

  "I wavered all day. I'm still not sure I did the right thing."

  "What's life if you don't take a chance?"

  My heart pounded just being around her. I almost resented having to go onstage, because that would be time we'd be apart.

  Wreckage had just come offstage, so I introduced Rose to Fay and Polly. That would've gone much easier if Fay hadn't gotten the giggles. She could be such a kid at times. I did a cutthroat sign at her behind Rose's back, and she pulled herself together.

  "You can come with us to watch the Freaks, if you like," Fay said. "Although one day, I'd love to get out in the crowd. It's not nearly as much fun being at the side of the stage and having to act all serious. Sometimes I want to dance around and scream like a normal fangirl."

  "At least you don't get bashed around and have beer spilled on you when you're up here," Rose said with a smile. "You get to focus on the show."

  "Yep," said Polly. "And no random guys trying to hit on you."

  They seemed to be getting on well, but I really hoped not too well. I didn't want Rose spending too much time around Fay. That Firecracker could be a bad influence.

  That night, my playing took on an extra dimension. I'd never felt so inspired. Every time I glimpsed to the side, Rose was there. And I glimpsed a lot. I had to make sure she was still there. I played for her. Everything I did onstage, I did for her. I wanted to see the smile on her face and the sparkle in her eyes. She'd become all the more precious because I'd lost her. I'd never lose her again if I could help it.

  Damo seemed in a particularly good mood. I'd never have asked him for help with my song, but now that he'd offered, I knew it would be the greatest song ever. A song that people would put on repeat. Even better, a song that people created happy memories to.

  I was on top of the world. Nothing would ever ruin this. I had everything I wanted within my reach.

  Elijah

  I'D TOLD FARTSTARD to order me a limo for after the show.

  "All the trimmings, the best champagne. No skimping on the spending, here."

  "Sure thing, boss," he said.

  Nothing was too much trouble for that guy, not after I'd set him up with those twins. He'd even forgiven me for giving him that nickname. I just hoped he knew classy when he saw it, because I didn't want anything but the best for Rose.

  "Make sure it doesn't look like a prom date car," I added.

  The last thing I wanted tonight was any reminder of the dork I'd been in high school. Or that Rose had been my teacher and definitely not my prom date. I wanted us to be on equal footing.

  Fartstard came into the backstage room and gave me the finger guns.

  "Time for us to go," I said to Rose. I put my jacket over her shoulders. I wanted the world to know we were together.

  As Rose and I left the room, Fay gave me a thumbs-up. Thumbs-up for what, though? Did that mean she approved of Rose? Because her approval meant jack shit to me. Or thumbs-up for a good night? Or just a general thumbs-up?

  Oh, well. I had better things to worry about than trying to interpret Fay's weird gestures. Firecracker had problems enough of her own to deal with.

  I put my hand on Rose's back as I led her out to the car. A bunch of groupies hung around the limo. Who could blame them? That was a damn fine car. Much better than the van they used to transport us to and from the hotel. That car said "rock star style" from a mile away but it was still classy as hell. It definitely didn't have that prom date look to it.

  Gleaming silver-gray paint work and even shinier trim.

  Somehow, I didn't think it was the car that the girls admired. They screamed extra loud when they saw me.

  Security held them back while I opened the door for Rose. Didn't stop the groupies from screaming and hooting. I blew kisses all round. No harm in sharing my good fortune. That raised even more screams.

  That car had seats like nothing I'd ever sat on before. Well, there'd been one girl when we'd toured Texas who'd come close, but I'd never been in a car like this, and I'd been in some great cars in my time--mostly belonging to our record label and probably bought with the money we made for them.

  The smell of soft leather hovered in the air. Even though this thing was as big as a football field, I shuffled over so that our legs touched. I didn't want to come on too strong, too early, but there was no need for us to have to yell to hear each other, either.

  "Does that bother you?" I asked Rose.

  I'd become accustomed to screaming girls and crazy groupie antics, but it must be strange for her.

  She shrugged. "It goes with the territory, I guess."

  "Yep. I hated it at first. Well, that's a total lie. I never hated it. From the very first, I loved it. When it was a handful of them, at most, I definitely loved it. But when you get numbers like that--there must've been over a hundred girls there--you get worried. Ever since Berlin, it's become more than just a joke, you know. A bunch of groupies turned on Polly, and it got nasty. Shit! I don't want to scare you off. They're fine. Most of the time, we have so much security around, they don't even get close."

  Rose nodded. "I read about that in the paper. It must've been horrific for her."

  "I think she was pretty shaken, and she's tough. On the up side, it made her and Damo stop being such idiots about each other. Anyway, enough about that. Check out this spread."

  It was all laid on: a bottle of champagne on ice and a tray of fancy snacks. This was what being a rock star was all about. I wanted to impress my lady.

  "Champagne?" I asked.
r />   "It would be a pity to let it go to waste," she replied, then grinned.

  I opened the bottle and managed to pour two glasses without fizzing it everywhere. I didn't want Rose covered in champagne, although licking it off her belly later would be an extreme pleasure.

  The limo drove us around the city as Rose pointed out some highlights. But I didn't need to see the view. Watching her face was enough for me. That, and this awesome champagne and the little finger foods. Mainly Rose's face, though.

  "That's the Van Gogh Museum," she said, reaching across me to point it out.

  I was sure Van Gogh had been a great artist and all, but his works had nothing on Rose's boobs pressing against me as she leaned over. They were the kind of art I appreciated most. I made a murmur of acknowledgment just to show that I thought about more than tits. I didn't want to look like some kind of yokel.

  We kept driving. I topped up Rose's glass.

  "You should check out some of the galleries if you get a chance," she said.

  "I don't think I'm an art gallery kind of person."

  "What's an art gallery person?" she asked. "You don't have to be a certain type. You're a creative guy. Get inspiration where you can. No matter what other people think, it's not about snobbery or any of that. It's about finding what you like and enjoying it."

  I'd most definitely found what I liked, and that was Rose. While she wasn't sitting especially close to me, her leg rubbed against mine. I loved the feel of that expensive silk and the smell of that perfume. So close now, not just a ghostly reminder.

  "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm getting into school teacher mode."

  "Not at all. I love hearing your thoughts on things. I spend all my time around musos and crew, people who think of nothing but music. It's creative, sure, but it's also very closed up, you know. There are things outside of music."