Rock Me (New Adult Romance) Read online

  Rock Me

  New Adult Romance

  By Olivia Marks

  Copyright © 2013, Olivia Marks

  All Rights Reserved.

  Published by Tangled Press

  Olivia Marks

  http://www.OliviaMarks.com

  Email: [email protected]

  Twitter @ http://twitter.com/tangledpress

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations and places are solely the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, including events, areas, locations and situations is entirely coincidental.

  This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint, distribution or use of this book is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without express written permission from the author.

  Chapter One

  “Shay I swear, this is going to be an unforgettable summer!" Aimee exclaimed giddily as we sailed down Broadway in a classic yellow cab in New York City. Her blonde ponytail snapped as she turned left and right to gawk at the scenery—and not just of the male variety.

  I had to agree with her. Everything about New York had exceeded my expectations: the shopping, the skyscrapers, the easy-to-navigate subway system, the amazing cupcakes. And as for its choice of guys, well, I had never seen so many attractive men in one place. Options were practically flooding every coffee shop, deli, corner store, and shop I walked into. After living all my life in pokey Duluth, Minnesota, the choice was dizzying.

  And we'd found ourselves at one splashy party after another thanks to our host, Felicia, Aimee's older cousin and a PR rep at the top entertainment agency in the city. Which was why we were on our way to see Black Dawn, Felicia's client and our favorite rock band and biggest crushes in the whole wide world.

  Said host shot us a look of exasperation from the front seat. She'd had it up to here with our moony behavior. She was cool and sophisticated, the perfect New Yorker. She was tall and model-thin, perfectly dressed, and she always knew how to act and what to say—in short, the exact opposite of my best friend Aimee and I, who were bursting with curves and awkward to boot.

  We’d been that way ever since we’d met in middle school. In fact, we’d bonded over our weight struggles and insane love of rock. And last New Year’s Eve, over too many wine coolers, we’d made a pact that we’d spend the next summer in New York City which we decided would be the perfect cure for our awkwardness and lack of sophistication.

  Felicia checked her make-up in a black Chanel compact. "So if I tell you guys something will you promise to keep it cool?"

  Aimee and I put on our best straight faces. "Totally," we chimed in together.

  "Well, we're not just getting free tickets to Black Dawn's concert. We'll also get to go backstage afterwards." She eyed us for signs that we'd start freaking out but instead we just sat there mutely, our jaws dropped.

  "No way," said Aimee airlessly.

  "We're going to meet Rob Danger and Johnny Nine?" I followed, my voice pitching dangerously. We both grasped the other's hand and literally began vibrating with excitement.

  "Oh no," muttered Felicia as we both broke out in squeals of joy. "This is going to be interesting."

  I didn't even remember to be nervous until we stepped into the concert hall. I was flooded with that familiar feeling that I didn’t belong. Lanky chicks in tight jeans and barely-there shirts moved smoothly through the crowded room, their eyes darting up and down my (not barely there) frame. I pulled down the most rocker chick shirt I owned, a pink top covered in black skulls.

  I’d felt confident when I left the house. I’d curled my long and lanky brown hair and frantically applied coats of black mascara. I looked to Aimee, my size 12 twin. She didn’t look self-conscious at all, just super excited to see her favorite band. I took a cue from her and plastered a smile on my face. Who cares what people thought—I was in New York!

  Felicia left us to go backstage to tend to the band and we squeezed our way towards the front.

  It was intermission. I was a bit bummed that we’d missed the first band. There was a lot of buzz on the Black Dawn message boards that their NYC opening act was one to watch. But, curling impossibly flat hair and trying to find a cab in New York on a Friday night had delayed our arrival.

  I didn’t have time to pout as the stage lights started flashing. The crowd started to scream and dozens of frantic female hands started reaching into the air, begging for their Gods of Rock to come on stage. My heart started pumping like crazy and I reached over to grasp Aimee’s hand. She looked over, her wide blue eyes shining with excitement. And just like that, we started to scream too. Finally, after two years of intense worship, we were going to see Black Dawn live!

  The band took to the stage, outfitted in low leather pants that barely covered lean, ripped torsos. My heart started to pound even faster. My favorite was the lead guitarist, Rob Danger, who had a mop of curly brown hair and pouty lips. Aimee loved lead singer Johnny Nine. Rumor had it that his last name referred to…err…the length of a certain part of his body. He had bleached blonde hair and a cute round butt that his tight pants didn’t hide. We waved our hands frantically, calling out for Rob and Johnny like we even had a chance.

  The set was everything we’d dreamed about. They played all of our favorite songs off their debut record. Their signature smoking guitar riffs and Johnny’s heated; yearning lyrics were even more intense in person. And they capped off their set with my favorite tune off their new album, a rocking ballad about loving someone you can’t ever have.

  My eyes stayed glued to Rob’s lean abs and the way his fingers masterfully manipulated his guitar. But my mind floated back to a certain someone—my high school crush Bobby. He was the school’s resident bad boy. Translation? He could never have been mine. I thought mournfully of his ripped, tight jeans, his tight rocker muscle shirts, his long sexy brown hair that had a way of covering his eyes.

  Sure he cut class, didn’t do his homework, and even cussed out our biology teacher Mr. Daniels, but I’d seen the way he played the lead guitar during our school talent contest. I knew he was talented and not really a bad ass, just misunderstood. But as it turns out, yearning looks and years of sighing and wishing don’t get you anything in the way of a relationship or even a single kiss. Still, I couldn’t stop wishing that he’d be mine…

  Aimee looked over at me and shook her head. She knew that this song always made me think of Bobby.

  “Girl,” she whispered. “You were too good for him. We’re here to find you somebody way better than that creep.” She took my hand and squeezed it. I smiled sheepishly back at her. I was trying to believe her, but the thought never quite stuck.

  As the song’s powerful riffs died out and Johnny’s last lyrics, full of his signature desire and longing, trailed away, the band came to the front of the stage. The crowd screamed louder, desperate for more. The lights on the stage flashed red. Everywhere was the smell of sweat and the less noticeable scent of desire. We were all reaching, reaching towards our heroes, trying to maintain a connection with them.

  The drummer threw his sticks into the crowd. I saw one sailing towards me and instinctively ducked. But Aimee was a little quicker on the ball. She reached out, hip-checking another crazed fan next to her in the process, and snatched a stick. She looked at me, wide-eyed with amazement, and we started jumping up and down even harder than ever.

  The crowd cried and cried for one more song but the band was done. The lights went up and we were all left to shuffle out, the glow of happiness still on our faces.

  It was then that I remembered t
hat it was time to go backstage. My stomach clenched.

  Felicia pushed her way towards us. With her black mini dress and flat-ironed blonde hair she fit in perfectly with the crowd.

  “Girls, you still wanna go backstage?” she asked anxiously.

  Of course we did. Grasping each other’s hands, we wound our way through the pushy crowd that smelled of hairspray and body lotion. We went through a hidden door and down a winding hall painted pitch black. Naked light bulbs dangled from the walls, giving off a faint yellow light.

  We entered a room at the end that was littered with beer cans, empty chip bags, and four very tall and jaw-droppingly cut men. They were passing around a bottle of whisky and laughing. Their conversation faltered slightly as they saw us. Aimee and I hung close to Felicia like she was our mom taking us to our first day of school. Rob was only feet away from me, his lean frame dripping with sweat, his arm muscles bulging.

  “Hey ladies,” said Johnny Ten. “You want some whisky?”

  Felicia shot us a “don’t even think about it” look. “This is my cousin and her friend. They’re huge fans and I just wanted to let them say hi.”

  “Can we get your CD signed?” said Aimee bravely. I could see that she was fighting to keep her eyes away from the significant bulge in Johnny Ten’s painted-on leather pants.

  He must have noticed as he smirked. “Sure ladies, my pleasure.”

  With shaking hands we presented our CDs, purchased on pre-order from Black Dawn’s website. The guys were nice and Rob even signed his ‘xoxo’ but I could tell that they’d be happy to get back to their drinking. We shuffled out, elated but also a bit down. We’d met our heroes, what now?

  We were just about to leave when another door opened and an unbelievably good-looking guy came out. He made Rob look like ground beef he was so smoking. He was wearing tight, ripped black jeans, a white tank, and tons of chains, plus his muscled arms were covered in swirling black tattoos. His shaggy, sweaty brown hair somewhat concealed what was most striking about him—blazing green eyes full of intensity but also something else that stopped me cold. It was a type of yearning and also suspicion mixed with determination. His whole body radiated that crazy charisma that defined a Rock God. I was floored, not caring whether he noticed whether I was staring or not.

  He spotted us and his eyes travelled over to me. I tried to look away, embarrassed for my gawking, but his penetrating eyes held me fast.

  “You guys aren’t leaving already?” he asked in a husky voice.

  * * *

  The Rock God addressed all of us but his eyes stayed fixed on me. I felt like my whole body was melting. I was so attracted to him yet I felt so exposed too.

  “Uh yeah, we were going to let the boys get on with their night,” said Felicia, her voice sounding perplexed.

  “No way, you have to join us at the after party. It’s at Johnny Nine’s loft in the Meatpacking District. He won’t mind—will ya, Johnny?” he asked, his eyes still not leaving mine.

  I could practically feel Johnny shrug. “Yeah, the more the merrier.”

  “So Felicia, who are these gorgeous ladies?” he asked in his rough, low voice.

  “This is Aimee, my cousin. And this is her friend Shayla. Girls, this is Liam Carter. He’s the guitarist for Hazard 41, the opening act, and the hottest new band around.”

  “You don’t need to sell it to them,” he said smoothly. “They can judge for themselves.” His eyes bored into mine. I began to flush furiously, so much so that I swore my feet were even turning bright pink. He smiled slightly but his brilliant green eyes stayed just as intense. “So you coming or not?” he asked.

  And that’s how I found myself in a black stretch limo with one of the hottest bands on the planet and another band that I was suddenly a lot more interested in—Hazard 41.

  Aimee, Felicia and I squeezed into one of the leather benches. Liam intentionally slid in next to me. His side and thighs pressed against mine sending waves of heat through my body. Liam, who was apparently the lead guitarist, introduced me to his fellow band mates—a uniformly attractive and motley crew that included a lead singer, drummer, and bass guitarist. They acknowledged me but looked mostly disinterested. I started to feel a bit uncomfortable and looked to Aimee for reassurance.

  “Baby, we are not in Duluth anymore!” she hissed, tearing her eyes away from Johnny Nine for one moment. She must have seen how nervous I was because she laid a hand on my shoulder. “What is it, Shay?”

  “What am I supposed to say to him?” I hissed. “He’s right beside me.”

  “Good thing too,” Aimee said, grinning. “He is quite the piece.” I rolled my eyes and she sighed audibly. “Just ask him about his music. And don’t worry, you look amazing and even better, you are amazing. So stop talking to me and talk to him.”

  Clearing my throat I turned around to see an amused and incredibly sexy Liam staring at me. I wondered if he’d heard our conversation. “Um, so how was the show tonight?” I ventured through blushes.

  He looked disappointed. “You didn’t get to see it?”

  I shook my head guiltily. “I would have loved to but we had a bit of a cab issue.”

  “Yeah that happens a lot in New York. If you’d like I can play you a couple of our songs. You’re a fan of Black Dawn?”

  “They’re my favorite!” I exclaimed. “Well, I mean, I haven’t heard your music yet…”

  He laughed and placed a very warm and very solid hand on my knee. “Don’t worry about it, sugar. Black Dawn had a huge influence on me when I was putting the band together. Now we’re on the same label. After they heard our demo they demanded we open for them in NYC. I owe these dudes everything.” He looked sincere but something in his voice made me wonder if something had happened between the two bands.

  “It’s a pretty amazing opportunity. And obviously, it comes with perks,” I said, not sure what to say. I pretended to admire the limousine in order to tear my eyes away from his powerful gaze.

  “Like everything it has its perks and its drawbacks. With all the glamour there’s a lot of darkness and superficiality too.”

  I frowned, turning my eyes back to him. But his gaze was off in the distance. “What kind of darkness?” I asked, genuinely curious. I’d never thought of the rocker lifestyle as anything but playing great music, making good money, and living like people did in the movies with fancy cars and fancier houses.

  “You’ll see once we get to the party,” he said vaguely. He looked at me again, his eyes soft. “Don’t worry I’ll be with you. I’ll make sure everything’s chill. The last thing I want you to feel is uncomfortable.” He gently reached over to run his fingers through my hair. “You’re too good for that lifestyle, I can tell already.”

  We entered Johnny’s loft in the fashionable Meatpacking District and immediately my movie theories were confirmed. It was huge with wide, tall windows and exposed pipes and pillars. Long sleek purple couches and gold frame chairs sat atop a massive zebra print rug. Black and white prints of artful nudes covered the walls. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling.

  “Oh my God, it looks like a brothel,” I whispered to Aimee.

  “I’m going to find Johnny’s bedroom,” she whispered back. I tried to hold on to her, but she scampered off, waving giddily. “Please watch her,” I hissed to Felicia.

  “Got it,” Felicia said with a look that said ‘why me?’ She was really cool but I knew she felt like hanging with us was like babysitting 24/7.

  I turned my attention back to Liam. “Wow, it’s quite the place.”

  He shrugged. “You want to meet the crew?” He waved out at the crowd of model-perfect people with their perfectly pressed hair, designer clothes, and bored looks. I shrunk back instinctively. Would these people react to me the same way Liam’s band mates had? If so, I didn’t want to risk it.

  “Can we go somewhere a bit quieter?”

  “Sounds perfect to me,” he said in that deep, rough voice.

  We settled int
o the music room which was decorated with huge blow-ups of Johnny’s heroes such as Kurt Cobain, Robert Plant, Elvis Presley, Mick Jagger, and more (I didn’t know who most of them were but Liam gave me a tour). Microphones were scattered on the plush purple rug and stereo equipment lined one wall. Liam closed the door and headed for the huge rack of vinyl.

  “What do you want to listen to, sugar?” he asked, flipping through the records.

  “Your album?”

  He laughed and flashed me a smile that was so good-natured I wondered who this supposed bad-boy was. “Aw, we’ll get there. Any other requests?”

  “You choose,” I said, flustered. I liked Black Dawn and a couple of other big rock bands but I suspected he knew a lot more about rock history than I did.

  He shrugged and popped a record into the player. Even I could identify the melodic but rocking sounds of the Red Hot Chili Peppers.

  “This is a great album!” I exclaimed, proud that I wasn’t completely ignorant. “By the Way, 2002!”

  “Yeah! Nice one. You dig them?”

  What I dig is you! I thought suddenly and to cover my embarrassment I started blathering. “They were one of my favorite bands in middle school. Aimee and I saw their concert in Minneapolis. I had a poster of them over my bed and everything.”

  He smiled, his sexy lips curving in a way that made me melt. “I felt that way about Jimmy Page when I was a teenager. I had his posters and I even listened to Led Zeppelin albums during class, well when I wasn’t skipping and hanging out in the music room.”

  “Did you have your own band?”

  “Yeah, a couple of buddies and I thrashed around, though we weren’t that great. There was this one dive that would let us in even though we were underage. We’d play for a beer. I think everyone was too drunk to notice how badly we stunk.”

  “I wish I’d known you in high school,” I blurted out. “I would have thought you were really cool.”