You Really Got Me (Rock Star Romance #1) (28 page)

“It’s okay. We’re good.”

The toilet flushed, and Pete came right out of the bathroom.

“Wash your fucking hands,” Slater said.

“Didn’t your mother teach you anything?” Ben called, smiling.

Emmie took that opportunity to cross the aisle and sit beside Slater. His hand wrapped around her waist, pulling her in tight.

Pete came back out, balling up a paper towel. He tossed it at Slater, who easily ducked.

“Okay, let’s get this done.” Derek stood up, leaned against the wall, his powerful arms crossed over his T-shirt-clad chest. “So, Slater and I talked this morning. We thought we should be more specific about what it means to behave professionally. We’ve got a list here.” He nodded to a piece of paper on one of the small tables. She recognized her brother’s messy scrawl.

“Just so we’re all on the same page. It’s more than just the drug and groupie issues. It’s how we conduct ourselves. So far we’ve been acting like a bunch of teenage—”

“Forget it,” Ben said. “I’m in. I agree completely. I feel like an asshole. I thought it would be fun, but it isn’t. I mean, it is. In a way. But I don’t want to feel like an asshole every day of my life.” He looked down at his bare feet. “That said, I reserve the right to fuck groupies. But discreetly and not all the time. I know how I’ve been acting.”

“I agree,” Cooper said. “Truth is, dude, I don’t even know what we said last night. I remember nearly peeing in my pants when you came at Pete, but I don’t remember what we were talking about.”

“Pete accused Slater of fucking Piper,” Ben said.

Pete’s gaze shot right to Emmie, and she let him know with a gentle smile that she forgave him.

“Oh, fuck, Em.” Pete scrubbed his face with his hands. “I’m sorry. He hasn’t . . .” He looked to Slater, like he was judging what he should or shouldn’t say. “He’s been good, I swear.”

“Leave it alone, Pete,” Derek said.

“Fuck.” Cooper ran a hand over his unshaved jaw. “I don’t remember any of that. And that’s fuckin’ scary because, well, you know my mom’s an addict, and . . . shit, I can’t believe I even went there. I mean, growing up with that shit, I swore I’d never . . .” He blew out a breath, looking so sad and lost. Emmie reached across the table and took his hand, gave it a squeeze. He looked so forlorn. “I agree we need to stay focused, have a plan. I’m in.”

“Well, I’m not a pussy,” Pete said. “I want to get laid and do drugs.” Everyone looked at him as though they couldn’t believe what he was saying. “But I want to be a fuckin’ rock star more. So, yeah, I’m in. But, like Ben, I reserve the right to get laid. I can be discreet, though, like Slater—” His eyes went wide. “Sorry. Shit.”

“It’s fine,” Emmie said. “I know what he did before he met me.”

“Yeah, well, I know what I said last night, but the thing is, Slater, you always kept it clean and discreet. You played it right.”

Slater’s hand curled into a fist on the table, the big muscles in his arms flexing. He looked ready to pounce.

“Besides, you’re the talent behind this whole operation. If you go, we’ve got nothing.” Pete shot a look to Derek. “No offense. We couldn’t do it without you, either. But I agree we’re not going to get where we want to go unless we’re focused and professional. So, yeah, I’m in.”

Slater sat back in his seat, body tense, hard. Shouldn’t he be happy? They’d gotten the coveted prize—the record contract. Something was wrong. She could feel the tension thrumming in him.

She turned to face him. Their gazes caught, held, and the fear she saw in his eyes shot right to her heart.

In that moment, she got it. What this news meant. The guys were signing with a record label. Everything would change now. Once they signed, their lives went into overdrive. Tours, endless studio hours cutting tracks, constant promotion.

He was worried about her. She tried to give him a reassuring smile, wanted him to enjoy the dream he was finally living.

But she knew. He was right to worry.

This new direction? It didn’t involve Emmie at all.

*   *   *

In line for security, Emmie’s phone rang. She couldn’t answer it, though. She had to untie her boots—why had she worn lace-up boots to an airport?—and get her laptop out of her messenger bag. Her phone buzzed. She’d grabbed a bin, set it on the conveyor, and started to load it with her boots, when a second text came in.
Okay, something’s up.

She gave a sheepish grin to the family in line behind her, motioning them to go ahead. Gathering her items into her arms, she set the bin back on the stack. She had to drop her boots, let go of the handle of her carry-on in order to dig her phone out of the inside pocket of her messenger bag. Six new texts.

All from Slater.
Don’t fucking ignore me.

She checked the one before it.

You have to talk to me. You can’t just leave a text like that.

Like what? What text was he talking about? They’d had a great good-bye in the cab just minutes ago. They’d kissed so passionately, he’d had her laid out on the backseat.

She scrolled back in their conversation, found the one she’d written while watching him onstage the night before. When she’d told him to continue to write with Piper. How could that possibly make him angry?

Well, she couldn’t get back to him just then. She’d call him when she got settled at her gate.

The moment she reached for the bin, she heard his voice shouting her name across the airport. Adrenaline shot through her, and she turned to find him racing up the escalator toward the security line, a guard moving in to block him. The last thing she needed was an airport scene. She quickly shot off a text.

Stop. I’ll be right there. Don’t yell.

The security guard reached him just as he pulled up his phone and read her text. God, what was the matter with him? Towering over the armed guard, Slater’s chest heaved as he trained his fiery gaze on her. He’d better control himself. She could just imagine him getting cuffed in the airport.

“Can you excuse me, please?” She smiled apologetically at the people around her as she pushed through them, cutting straight across the zigzagging line. Lugging her boots, carry-on, and messenger bag, she ducked underneath the rope to get to him.

“What the hell, Emmie?”

God, he looked so fearsome, his cheeks enflamed.

“I don’t know what your problem is.” She stood before him, sweating, arms aching from carrying all her belongings.

“What the fuck was that text?”

“Is there a problem here?” the security guard asked.

Slater never took his fierce gaze off her.

“No,” Emmie said. “Sorry. We’ll go over here and talk.” She gave Slater a stern look and then headed toward the far wall. He snatched the handle of her luggage and strode ahead.

The moment she reached the wall, he grabbed her boots, dropped them on the floor. His anger rolled over her, pressing in on her. “What the fuck, Em? Did you break up with me?”

“What? How did you make the leap from me backing off about the whole Piper thing to me dumping you?”

He played with his phone, bringing up the original text. “If you love something, set it free?” He moved in menacingly. “I don’t want you to set me free. I want you to own me. I want you to fucking possess me. How do you not understand what I want? How the fuck did anything I say or do in the past twenty-four hours lead you to believe I wanted my
freedom
?”

Own him? Possess him? Could he make her any hotter? Perspiration beaded over her lip, and sweat trickled between her breasts. “I could seriously have sex with you right here and now.”

“What?” He backed off, jamming his phone in his jeans’ pocket and scratching the back of his neck. “Are you high? I don’t have any idea what’s going on here.”

Jerking on the strap of her messenger bag, she pushed it behind her so that nothing stood between them. Her fingers curled into his belt loops, and she tugged him forward, making him stumble into her. Heat ignited in his eyes.

“That song you wrote with Piper? That was great. I mean, really great. Jonny, you need to write songs like that, and if that means you write with Piper, then you write with Piper. You’re going to be a superstar. I want you to be happy. I don’t want to be the person who limits you or makes demands. The only way we can last—the only hope for us to even have a good relationship—is if I let you go. So I was telling you not to worry about my insecurities. If you want to work with Piper, then work with her. If something happens . . . then, I don’t know, we deal with it.”

“Nothing will ever happen.”

“I’m just saying that if it did—theoretically—then I’ll have to deal with it. But we’re never going to work if I make up a list of things you can and can’t do based on my fear of what might happen. That’s not healthy. I’m saying do what you need to do and don’t worry about me. Because I . . .” She held his gaze, her body heating up, her pulse quickening. “I love you. I want to be with you.”

“You love me?” His smile transformed him from badass to little boy.

She nodded, running her hand through his soft, silky hair.

The tension left his body. “You freaked me the fuck out.”

“I’m sorry. I meant it in a good way.”

“Jesus, Em. I thought you were dumping me.”

“I sent it last night. You just saw it now?”

“You were with me all weekend. Why would I look at my phone?”

“You and Derek are so lame. You need smartphones. You’re big boys now.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Listen. I’m not
something
. And what’s the point of loving someone if your feelings are dull enough to say you’re willing to set them free? I want you to want me so completely you’d engage in hand-to-hand combat with a pack of sex-starved groupies to hold on to me. I don’t believe in fate. I believe in working hard for the things I want, and I want you more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life. So I’m not going to
set you free
in the hope fate means for us to last. We’re going to last because we take hold of each other and hang on with all we’ve got. Jobs come and go, money doesn’t bring happiness, and when I die, the only thing I know I get to keep is my love for you. Are we clear?”

She belted her arms around his waist, hugged him tightly. “Very, very clear.”

“Say it again.”

“I love you.”

“Now that’s what I’m talking about.”

She could feel the tension leave his muscles as he curled around her, burrowing his face into her neck.

The moment Emmie entered the house, she abandoned her suitcase, tossed her jacket on the couch, and called Irwin.

He answered his private line right away. “Emmie Valencia, please tell me you’ve changed your mind.”

“No, but I’m about to change yours. Eric’s offered Snatch a contract.”

“I heard every word in that last sentence except the third.”

“Irwin.”

“Yes, yes, I’m on it.”

“Meaning . . .”

“Meaning you win.”

“You’ll sign them?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t believe this. I’m so excited. This is amazing. This is the best news ever. What convinced you?”

“The video you sent me.”

“That was over a month ago.”

“Indeed.”

“So, you’ve known since then?”

“Quite right. So, let’s talk about what really matters. When are you coming back?”

“You’re promoting me?”

The pause made her spirits deflate.

“Irwin?”

“Emmie, are you still sleeping with the singer?”

She collapsed on the couch. “How did you find out?”

“Those cookies you made were delicious. Why didn’t you ever make them for me?”

“I never had time.” Of course. Some promotions guy told Irwin all about the care packages she’d been sending the guys. “You went to see Wicked Beast in Albuquerque?”

“That’s what I love about you. You’re sharp as a tack.”

“Irwin. Come on, I didn’t introduce you to the band because of the singer or my brother. They’re the most talented act I’ve seen. And I’ve kept you apprised of everything I’ve done to get them where they are.”

“You have.” He mumbled something to someone, then got back on the line. “Em, I have never doubted your capabilities.”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’ve slept with exactly two guys in my life.”

“All the more reason to limit the number of bands you work with.”

“I’ve earned this promotion.”

“As long as you’re sleeping with Slater Vaughn, you’re not going to be their A&R coordinator.”

“Irwin, please. I want to be part of this. It means so much to me. And I’ve
earned
it.”

“You will be part of it. Through your brother and your boyfriend. Look, even if you weren’t engaging in unspeakable acts with the singer, you simply can’t work with your brother. The ties are too sticky.”

Oh, dammit, dammit, dammit. “What about Piper? Are you going to sign her?”

“I suspect so.”

“Is she . . .” God, she hated how much she wanted an answer to her question. “Do you think she’s talented?”

“Janis Joplin.”

“What? She doesn’t sound anything like Janis Joplin. She certainly doesn’t look like her.”

“Which makes her even better because she’s bloody gorgeous, her voice is sultry and powerful, and she’s a superstar onstage. Her musical ability reminds me of Joplin, the way she absorbs a variety of musical influences and mixes them together like an alchemist to create her own style. It’s genius. She’s fresh. She’s ballsy. And not only from an artistic point of view. She’s a terror of a businesswoman.”

“Why don’t you marry her instead of signing her?”

“Well. Isn’t this
fascinating
? In all my years with you, I’ve never seen your claws come out. I never even knew you had them. Where is this coming from?”

“I don’t understand why you’re hesitating if you think she’s all that.”

“I haven’t met with her yet.”

“You haven’t met with Snatch yet, either.”

“I certainly have.”

“You have?”

“You’ve lived with them. You’ve worked with them. I know all I need to know.”

He trusted her implicitly. That might have been the highest compliment ever paid to her.

And that and $3.50 could buy her a medium decaf latte.

*   *   *

Stepping out of the shower, Emmie heard the distant ring of the phone.

Who would call on the house phone?

She snatched the towel off the rack, wrapped it around her, and tore out of the bathroom. Racing down the stairs, she skidded at the turn into the kitchen. She answered breathlessly. “Hello?”

“Em?” She could hear excited chatter and hollering in the background.

“Jonny?”
Yes
. He’d heard the news. Her heart pounded as she waited for him to share. Nothing had been harder than keeping such important news from him.

“Let me talk to her,” she heard Derek say.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell us?” Sounded like Ben.

“Fucking
Irwin Ledger
?” Definitely Pete.

“Love you, Emmie.” Cooper.

And then someone started singing “You Light up My Life,” and they all started cracking up.

“Okay, okay, back the fuck up,” she heard Slater say. Slowly, their voices receded. “Em?”

“Yeah.” Her face hurt from smiling so hard. She was so happy for him. For all of them.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Irwin made me promise not to. Not until he was sure.”

He went quiet. Her fingers curled tightly around the phone, wishing so badly she could be with him. “You okay?” she asked.

He let out a shaky breath.

“This is pretty cool, huh?” she prompted.

Still, he didn’t answer.

“It’s where you guys belong. Top label, top A&R guy. I promise you, Irwin will take you where you guys should go.”

She waited, not quite sure what Slater was feeling or thinking. But she had a sense he was overwhelmed, maybe thinking about his dad. Thinking about his future—Irwin would make them into huge stars.

“I love you,” he finally said.

And her breath caught in her throat because he’d been thinking about
her
.

“None of this,” he said. “None of it would’ve happened without you.” His voice so low, so gravelly, she had to press the phone to her ear to hear him.

“Let me talk to her,” Derek said, right before distortion sounded in her ear. “Emmie?”

“I’m so happy for you, Derek.” But her heart, her mind, her whole essence was still with Slater. God, she wanted to be with him so badly. Share this moment in person.

“I can’t believe you did this for me. I swear to fucking God, you are gold. Pure gold. Fucking hell. Amoeba. Irwin. This is . . .” He blew out a breath. “It doesn’t get better than this.”

“I know. But Derek, you have to know, you did this. It’s your talent. You’re one of the best damn bass guitarists in the business.”

He was quiet for a moment. And then, “Fuck,” scraped out of his throat. “That means fucking everything to me.”

She knew.

He cleared his throat. “So, does this mean you’re moving back to the city?”

“He’s not promoting me, so, no. I’ll stay until I discover a different band.”

“What the fuck? You’ve got to be kidding me?
You
made all this happen.”

“Okay, let’s not go there right now. Let’s just be happy with today’s news.” She wouldn’t ruin their good news by telling them
why
Irwin wouldn’t promote her. “So, what’s next?”

“Em, I’m going to make it happen for you. Not now. I haven’t even signed yet, but after I do, I’m going to make sure you work with us. Only you.”

She appreciated his conviction, but he wouldn’t have that kind of power for years. Besides, she’d make it for herself. Of course she would. “It’s okay, Derek. It’ll work out for me, too. Alex has a band for me to see that he’s sure I’ll love. So, talk to me. What did Irwin say is next for you guys?”

“He’s flying us out to New York City the week after next. Wants us out there for the weekend. Wine and dine us—”

Her stomach gave a sharp twist. “I know exactly what he’ll do for you.” She didn’t want to think of her brother—the little boy who’d run out of the room at the first sight of the flying monkeys in the
Wizard of Oz
—doing the disgusting things the Amoeba guys would provide for Snatch. But she
really
couldn’t bear to think about Slater surrounded by all that decadence.

“You should come out, too.”

“Weekend after this one?”

“Yeah.”

“I can’t. That’s when I’m checking out the band Alex told me about. Plus, Tiana’s got something planned for my birthday on Friday night. But, no, believe me, you guys won’t want me around for that.”

“You know what, Em?”

“What?”

“I’m partying with you on your birthday.”

“What? No. You just said you have to be in the city.”

“I’ll fly to Austin on Friday, then fly to New York City Saturday morning.”

“You can’t just make those decisions. If Irwin wants you on Friday—”

“He hasn’t given us firm plans yet. Besides, let me worry about that.”

“That’s sweet, but you don’t have to come out here.”

“Fuck that. Mom and Dad never did anything for you. Everything revolved around Dad and his fucking world. Besides, none of this would be happening without you. None of it. I
want
to be there. I know it hasn’t been an easy time for you lately, and the last thing I want is for you to spend your birthday alone in Austin.”

“I’m not alone. I’ll be with Tiana.”

“Can I talk to my girl now?” she heard Slater say.

“Hang on,” Derek said to Slater. And then to Emmie, “Listen, the guy who used to be my idol, who’s now become this pussywhipped sad sack, wants to talk to you. But, Em, I’m going to see you Friday night. You don’t get it. You’re the only one who’s ever believed in me. And you are single-handedly responsible for today, this moment, when I got the call I never thought I’d get. So, fuck yeah, I’m gonna be with you on your birthday. Oh, and Em?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Derek. I’m happy for you.”

“And that’s the thing. I know you are. That’s the most amazing thing. No matter what’s going on for you, no matter what
you
want, you’re out there thinking about me, making my dreams come true.”

“Now who’s the sad sack?” Slater said. “Give me the damn phone before she loses all respect for you.” She could hear the change of hands, a rustling in the earpiece. “Em?”

“Hey. So happy for you.”

“How come you didn’t tell me about your birthday?”

“I never make a big deal about it. Tiana’s taking me out to dinner, that’s all.”

“Well, it’s a party now. We’ll all fly out.”

“Fuck yeah,” she heard Pete call.

The guys talked about it in the background and seemed pretty insistent.

“You’re making it a way bigger deal than it needs to be. The only thing you should be worried about is getting signed. You guys all need to be there.”

“We will. We’ll just be there on Saturday instead of Friday.”

“Slater.”

“I’ll check with Irwin. But I doubt he’ll mind. He kinda digs you. Now, stop arguing and let Tiana know the reservation’s just gone from two to seven.”

“You’re sweet.” She wouldn’t get her hopes up. “Hey, how come you guys called on the house phone?”

“We got our big-boy phones today.”

“Oh, my God, you got a smartphone? So why didn’t you call me on it?”

“We don’t know your cell number.”

She laughed. “Didn’t you have them transfer your information onto the new phone?”

“They can do that?”

“Jonny.” She dropped into the kitchen chair, tugging the towel over her legs. “Go back to the store tomorrow and have them make the transfer. They should’ve done it automatically.”

“We kind of overwhelmed them.”

“I’ll bet you did.” He was kind of an overwhelming guy. She drew in a sharp breath. “So. Here it comes. The big time. Just like you always wanted.”

He didn’t say anything.

And neither did she. She was happy for them—truly. But where did it leave her? Even when she’d quit her job, she hadn’t felt this scared, this . . . desperate. Like she was running out of time.

Like if she didn’t make something happen for herself
right now
, she’d be left behind.

*   *   *

Happy birthday to me
.

Seated in a high-backed leather chair in a fancy downtown Austin restaurant, Emmie smiled for Tiana’s camera phone.

“You look gorgeous, girl.” Tiana looked at the screen. “He’s going to love this.”

More likely, Slater wouldn’t see it until morning, considering how busy Piper would keep him tonight.

The waiter appeared yet again. “Are you ready to order?”

Tiana glanced toward the hostess stand. “Can you just give us five more minutes?”

“Are we waiting for someone?” Emmie had wondered about the extra place setting.

Tiana just smiled. “I’m just not used to eating in places like this. I keep waiting for the bouncer to throw me out.”

“We didn’t need to go so fancy.” Emmie looked around the hushed restaurant, the patrons’ features bathed in the yellow glow of candlelight.

“Oh, come on. You deserve the best. Besides, I’m not paying.”

Emmie’s stomach plummeted. She hadn’t found someone to sublet her place in the city because her roommates kept blowing off showings. And, while she didn’t have many expenses, she had nothing coming in. The last thing she’d choose to spend money on was a fancy dinner.

“Look at your face. Jeez, girl, I’m not making you pay for your own dinner. Slater is.”

“Slater?”

“Yeah, it’s on him. He feels bad about not being able to come. That’s why he made me promise to send a picture.” She lifted her phone.

“That was nice of him.” Her voice sounded as flat as she felt.

“Oh, girl. You are bumming so hard. It’s breaking my heart.”

“No, no. I totally I understand why he can’t come.” She wasn’t angry at Slater, but she couldn’t stand Piper Lee.

“That bitch is crazy. She’s got serious cojones.”

“Yeah, but she’s incredibly good at what she does. I just hate the power she has over him.” As soon as Slater told Piper the band would be coming to Austin for Emmie’s birthday, Piper went and planned a huge signing party for them on the same night. She’d invited everyone—MTV,
Rolling Stone
, even
Beatz
, the music news blog that was
the
source for music news and gossip in the industry. It was the first site everyone in the industry checked when they woke up in the morning.

Even if the idea was brilliant—and she had no doubt it would catapult the band to immediate fame—Emmie still hated that Piper had deliberately planned it to keep Slater away from her.