Slow Body Rock (Rockstar Romance)
Read Slow Body Rock (Rockstar Romance) Online
Authors: Nora Flite
-SLOW BODY ROCK-
Book 2
The Body Rock Series
Slow Body Rock (Rockstar Romance)
Nora Flite
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Copyright © 2014 Nora Flite
All rights reserved.
Slow Body Rock is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Lola
I
didn't remember falling asleep.
I sure as shit remembered waking up.
The voices were hoarse, gritty sounds that made it clear they were trying to keep the volume low. Cracking my eyes open, I regretted my decision instantly. “Fuck,” I hissed, rolling onto my side. Had someone been punching my skull all night?
Tenderly feeling the side of my neck, I pushed my face into the sweaty blankets.
No, not punched. I was tossed around by those asshole security guards.
Digging through the slowly clearing fog in my head was torturous. Alcohol and sneering dickheads were bad enough, but it was something else that invaded my brain.
Even when I first wake up, he's haunting me.
Grimacing, I pushed my face into the pillow harder.
Is that what I'm dealing with now? Instantly remembering his eyes, his smell, as soon as I regain consciousness?
Could I get no peace from Drezden Halifax?
Someone was shouting. Tugging the cloth off my eyes, I dared to look around my tiny bunk. Light was struggling to break through the tinted window on the wall above me.
It must be early, we haven't started driving yet.
I was glad for that. Especially when I sat up and everything spun in my stomach.
Groaning, I held my forehead. My whole head heavy as a bowling ball. Hanging it between my knees, I felt the rough bandages on my elbows when they touched my bare thighs. That reminded me of Drezden's fingers, callused and firm. How they'd held me still while he administered the burning medicine to my shallow cuts.
Reaching over, I touched one of the bandages.
He was so tender, so insistent when he fixed me up.
Blushing furiously, my eyes darted to the curtain over my door. I recognized one of the angry voices out there as Drezden himself.
His throaty tone riddled me with goosebumps.
Demanding is more fitting than tender. When he was on top of me in the bathtub, that...
Shaking my head cleared the cobwebs.
Stop. Don't think about that right now.
Maybe never.
As if I could help it.
Who could erase a moment like that? His heavy scent in my nose, his hard chest and wicked smiles turning my insides to cotton candy—
No! Ugh, stop it Lola. Just stop.
Scowling at my weakness, I filled my chest with air. It took everything I had to get on my feet and not vomit.
Brittle as an elderly woman, I slid carefully into a tight blue shirt and the same jeans from yesterday. I hadn't packed much for the tour, but I hadn't expected to have to worry about it. As a sweaty grunt moving gear for my brother's band, my clothes didn't matter.
As the new guitarist for the famous Four and a Half Headstones, well...
Maybe I can get Brenda to pick me up something.
Borrowing from her would be no joke; the manager wore things I'd never think about trying on. Also, her heels were killer.
Sliding the curtain aside, I strained to listen to the still ongoing argument. It was hard to see much from my angle. Crisp and clean, Brenda's voice rang like a siren. “—it's the easiest way!” she cried, sounding like she was stomping in place. “Last night wouldn't have happened if they knew who she was, let me put her face out there!”
“The problem,” Drezden growled, “is you hiring assholes who don't know how to do their job. Even if she had been some drunken fan girl, they roughed her up! That's not fucking acceptable!”
Hearing the rawness in his voice was decadent. It hit a place inside of me so primal that I shut my eyes and bit my lip. There was no time to argue with myself over my inappropriate reactions. They were talking about me, about last night.
Shoving into the hall, I stared at the front of the tour bus. Sunlight streamed through the open roof window, turning Brenda's hair into fire and gold. She was sitting on a leather seat, one heel kicking into the base of the table occasionally. Her eyes, thick with makeup, jumped to me.
With his arms in a tight pretzel, Drezden's gaze widened. I didn't know what was glinting in his green depths, only that it set my skin aflame. Quickly he hid behind his indifferent squint. The sun highlighted every muscle on his bare shoulders, the black tanktop exposing him deliciously.
They both watched me, but Brenda spoke first. “Lola! You're awake, good. You can answer this for yourself—”
“She isn't doing it!” Drezden snapped, nostrils flaring.
“I'm not doing what?” My voice was rough. Clearing it, wishing for some water—and a toothbrush—I eyed them both warily. “Tell me what's going on.”
Brenda smoothed her long crimson hair. “Drez told me about last night.” My cheeks went pink as I wondered how much the singer had actually admitted to. “Don't worry,” she said suddenly, mistaking the source of my flash of panic. “No one got any photos or anything. Plus, I fired the assholes involved. We'll have new guys for the next stop, but...”
Leaning off the wall, Drezden took a step my way. “She wants you to do a photo shoot before the next show.”
“Oh!” Blinking at his sour frown, I looked to Brenda for an explanation. “And why is that a bad thing?” I'd never done a photo shoot before. Certainly it couldn't be that hard, let alone worth arguing over.
With a smug look at Drez, the red-head motioned me towards her. Wordless, I sat down on the other seat. “Lola, it's not a bad thing at all. It'll get your name out there, your face, and hype you up to the fans of the band. Clarifying that Johnny Muse is gone, you're in, it's all important to help the face of the band. Plus, things like last night won't be an issue anymore.”
Drezden's palm came down, slapping the table between us. Jumping, I grabbed at my chest, willing my heart to calm down. “It's not the photo shoot that's the problem! It's the time it will take away from practice! Brenda, we have one fucking day before the show in Colorado, we need every minute we have to make sure Lola is ready.”
“And I
told
you,” she huffed, “that I can call ahead and squeeze in a chunk of time tonight! Schedule around it, it'll just be an hour at most.”
“An hour to take photos, yeah. What about the hour to set up the location, then the hour to prep her?”
Brenda rolled her eyes, lips going white.
Though my heart was still struggling to climb into my mouth, I looked up at Drezden. “Why can't we just do the shoot here on the bus? Then we won't lose all the time stopping and setting up or whatever.”
Reaching across the table, Brenda clasped my hands in hers. “Yes! That's perfect! I can have the photographer climb on our bus, along with the makeup and wardrobe, then you won't even need to stop practicing until they're ready for you! When we're done, you can go right back to the music while they pack up and hop out into the car that will follow us! Lola, you're a genius!”
I didn't miss the smug smile she gave Drezden, nor the harsh scowl he answered with. His eyes, normally so green, were dark as a storm when he glared at me. “Fine. Whatever. Just do whatever to make sure last night never happens again, and that this show goes smoothly.”
“Of course I will.” She wrinkled her nose. “Give me some credit, I've kept things going for you this far.” Shoving from the seat, she brushed past the tall singer and dug her phone out. “I'll make some calls, don't vanish. We'll be on the road in thirty.”
The moment Brenda left the bus, Drezden became a black hole. Alone with him so near me, my world shrank to a pinprick. His palms touched the table; mine twitched underneath on my thighs. “You shouldn't encourage her. Brenda gets off on every little win over me. She's ruthless.”
My tongue felt heavy with fluid. “She's right though. Last night happened because the security had no clue who I was.”
Studying me under lowered eyebrows, Drezden didn't move a wink. “Last night happened because we gave weak people a taste of power. They ran with it, it controlled them.”
He was losing me. “What does that—”
“Think about it!” His voice was as good as a slap. I sat up straighter. “Just because they thought you were some drunken slut looking for a ride—” My throat tightened painfully. “—doesn't excuse what they did! Those assholes should have escorted you away. Why did they need to go as far as roughing you up?”
Nail marks formed in my palms. It took a concentrated effort to calm the muscles in my forearms. “You're only partly right.” Drezden tucked his chin, confusion blooming. “They went too far, okay. My cuts and pride will have to agree. But honestly? If they had just tried to escort me away, it would have turned into a fight anyway. I wouldn't have just gone away, I wanted inside here.”
Drezden considered me, then cracked a smile that melted the strength from my body. The seat was much more welcome suddenly. “You'd have fought them instead of just going and finding Colt or Porter or even Brenda?”
His honest surprise told me how little he really knew me.
How could he know? My history isn't written on a CD like his. There's no way for him to understand what I've had done to me... and what I've done.
Memories of a blacktop behind my middle school surfaced. Fists that pummeled, my mouth full of blood.
Drezden couldn't tell how much I was a fighter.
That was probably for the best.
“It doesn't matter.” Scrunching my shoulders to my ears, I started to slide from the seat. “You said you wanted to practice.”
“You should eat first.” Sighing, like something had exasperated him, he twisted towards the line of cupboards on the bus wall. “I wish we had more, we haven't stocked up in a while. I'll remind Brenda. Think you can stomach some plain bagels?”
In the filtered sunlight through the open roof, I watched the back of his head. Then without meaning to, my eyes drifted down his spine. The rows of muscles barely hidden by his tight shirt were like train tracks on a course to my destruction. He was... beautiful. Why did someone so intimidating have to be so easy on the eyes? “Bagels are fine, sure.”
Together we sat at the small table, eating stale breakfast. It was oddly normal. I didn't remember the last time I ate so casually with anyone, not even my brother. Life was always so busy... the luxury of seated meals novel.
Picking apart the bagel, I stared at Drezden's profile in the golden glow. His jaw and nose were strong, sharp enough to cut butterfly wings. It was a face I'd seen so many times in magazines or blogsites, but in person, it served to remind me of where I was. I hadn't gotten over how, yesterday morning, I'd woken up with a tight neck on the hard seat of my brother's busted up tour bus.
How much things have changed.
The bite of bagel was dry in my mouth. I'd inevitably found my mind wandering to last night. Drezden, the bathroom, the tub... I reached over, itching at the bandage on my elbow.
Craning his neck, his hard green eyes locked onto what I'd just done. “Do they hurt today?”
Tingles of pink rolled up my face. Taking a swig from the bottle of water he'd found for me, I wiped my mouth, stalling. “No, they're—I'm fine. Don't worry about it. I'm tougher than you think.”
“I think,” he whispered, “that we went over that last night.” His slow smirk was as tangible as fingers running over my thighs.
Squeezing my knees together, I fought down a wave of—what?
Lust, fear, why can't I tell the difference?
“Could we not talk about that?”
“Which part?”
“
All
the parts,” I muttered. Tossing the rest of my bagel in the trash, I glanced towards the back of the bus.
Drezden read my mind. “If you're worried about the band finding out, don't be. Brenda won't say anything to them.”
Sucking in a slow breath hardly calmed me at all. “Okay, it's just... the aftermath.” Ugh, even talking about the incident in the tub was making my skull throb. Other parts of me as well.
Something touched my ankle under the table. It took me a second to realize the hard material was Drezden's boot. “What about the aftermath?”
My poker face was the worst. Widening my eyes till they ached, I watched him without blinking. How could he look so smug? Did he not care if they found out? I'd been around enough band drama to know that shit like last night never ended well. It only took one rumor—or one reality—to start a scandal or tarnish a name.