The Roadie: Radical Rock Stars Book 7

by Jenna Galicki

  “Why not? You’re going to eat when you’re done here, right?”

  “I’m very busy. After we finish with the recording, I need to make a decision about offering a record contract to a band.” It wasn’t a lie. She came to Chicago to see local artists on the rise, and her trip got sidetracked when she realized she’d be in the same city at the same time as her sister and Immortal Angel. And then Bulletproof showed up for a recording session and derailed her brain from deciding on signing the band she saw two nights ago.

  “You have a really important job. It sounds awesome.” Brett shrugged sheepishly. “I’m just a roadie.”

  Add humble to the list of admirable qualities this man possessed. “That doesn’t make your job any less important. A show takes the effort of everyone – the audio crew, the production crew, and the road crew.”

  “Thank you for respecting my job. I wasn’t trying to sell myself short,” he said, with pride. “It’s a laborer’s position, but I’m in charge of millions of dollars’ worth of equipment.”

  “I know exactly how integral roadies are. I know what goes into a show and a tour from start to finish.”

  He gave her the onceover, and his eyes sparkled with allure. “Brains and beauty. Smart. Sexy—”

  “Shh.” She smiled as she glanced around the room to make sure no one was listening, except her sister, who was still standing right next to her, absorbing the conversation as if she were invisible. “I have to get back to work. We can talk about it later.”

  “Sure, babe.”

  He gave her a quick peck on the cheek, which embarrassed her, until the touch of his lips sent a rush of blood pumping through her veins and left her hot and tingly all over.

  As soon as he rolled the dolly away, Audra gushed, “Oh my God. He’s gorgeous. I saw the way he was looking at you. He wants you. Badly.”

  “Stop it.” Kira nudged her sister.

  “You’re going to see him tonight, right?”

  “I’m busy.”

  “Really?” Audra asked, skeptically. “Too busy for a good time? Look at him. You’re going to pass that up?”

  Her sister was the devil. Although both were raised with respect and high morals, Audra had always been the instigator in breaking curfew and sneaking alcohol from their father’s liquor cabinet. Kira sighed with indecision as she watched Brett set up the equipment. He offered her a no-strings-attached outlet for the pent-up passion that was exploding inside of her, dying to be set free. It was tempting and hard to pass up, but casual sex wasn’t her thing.

  With his work done for the moment, Brett gave Kira a sly wink and a sexy smile as he passed. She smiled back with giddiness that she hadn’t felt in a long time. Her eyes followed him, while her heart beat faster. Memories of their rendezvous filled her mind and made her cheeks and her panties burn.

  For the next 15 minutes, she listened to Immortal Angel perform with Brandon Bullet on guest vocals and Derek MacAlister as guest guitarist. The bands had totally different aesthetics, Immortal Angel being old school punk rock and Bulletproof being hardcore heavy metal, but they blended. They made it work by meshing genres in a way only seasoned professionals knew how to do. The song took on new depth and a grain of acidity.

  Immortal Angel was all business when it came to recording, but the guys from Bulletproof liked to fool around. They had been at the top of the charts in the heavy metal genre since before they were twenty years old. Everyone knew the name Bulletproof, even those who didn’t listen to music. They seemed to make headlines on a daily basis with their wild out-of-control parties, trashing hotel rooms and insane spending sprees.

  Alan Delgado and Jeremy Kagan were the worst – or the best. Since they were only observing and not performing, they were entertaining themselves, and everyone else, with their antics. Alan, who had proclaimed himself as master of the double bass earlier, was trying to teach Jeremy how to twirl a drumstick. That’s when Kira remembered that the two of them were a couple – a very famous same-sex rock star couple. Apparently, Tommy Blade and Angel Garcia had a rivalry on their hands with those two.

  Jeremy couldn’t quite grasp the dynamics of flipping the drumstick through his fingers, but he kept trying, until the drumstick flew out of his hand and sailed right past Brandon’s face.

  Brandon glared at them, but in a brotherly way. “Dude! Take it outside. We’re trying to work here.”

  “He started it,” Jeremy pointed at Alan, who retaliated by putting his boyfriend in a headlock.

  “See what I mean,” Jeremy said, breaking free.

  Alan wrapped his forearm around Jeremy’s neck again and Kira thought they were going to start wrestling once more, but Alan said, “C’mon, bruh. Let’s get lunch and leave these dudes alone so they can finish the song.”

  “Lunch?” Derek stopped fingering his guitar and stood at attention. “I could use some chow.”

  “You could always use some chow,” Alan said, over his shoulder, as he and Jeremy headed for the door, now arm in arm.

  Derek turned puppy dog eyes on Brandon. “I’m hungry, Bran.”

  Kira was about to suggest they order sandwiches, but Bulletproof’s manager returned to the studio with a crew of caterers, stopping Jeremy and Alan from leaving. In a matter of minutes, a table on the far wall was covered with a banquet of food and drinks.

  “What’s all this?” Angel inquired. Immortal Angel never took lunch breaks. They always worked until a recording was complete, without distraction.

  Felix rolled his eyes, exasperated. “If I don’t order food for these hooligans, they’ll get unruly. They need fuel. Especially this one.” He motioned to Derek, who was already filling a plate with . . . everything.

  Derek pushed his waist-length black hair over his shoulder and presented a broad smile as he grabbed another chicken tender. “I have a high metabolism.”

  Felix clapped his hands together in order to get the room’s attention. “Eat up, everyone.” He glanced back at Derek. “Before Mr. MacAlister devours it all by himself.”

  Audra and Kira shared soft laughter at the camaraderie between the members of Bulletproof and their manager. Felix was a well-known disciplinarian when it came to business, but he was also extremely amusing. And he wore many hats. If anyone wanted to get near Bulletproof, they didn’t go through the band’s label. They went through Felix.

  “I hope you don’t mind that I dropped by unannounced with lunch.” Felix addressed the members of Immortal Angel. “I forgot to mention that my boys are insufferable if they miss mealtime. Please help yourselves. There are a few healthy options hidden in between the meat and grease these Neanderthals consume.”

  Kira made eye contact with her sister and almost started laughing at Felix’s over-the-top dramatics. After she had a small plate of couscous and broccoli rabe, Kira excused herself to use the restroom. As soon as she opened the door and stepped into the hallway, a gust of warm air hit her, and she almost choked. Considering the high price of renting a music studio, they could at least keep the air on in the hallways. She stopped at the water cooler and drank a small cup of water. Fanning herself, she blew the hair off her face.

  “Now I know why it’s so hot in the hallway.”

  Brett’s voice made Kira freeze. She thought he was gone. There was no reason for the roadies to be inside the building, and she wondered if he was waiting for her. Unsure of what to say, she didn’t answer.

  “Mind if I join you?” His eyes remained fixated on her while he filled a paper cup with water, and it overflowed onto his hand. He switched the cup to his other hand and shook the water from his fingers. “See what you do to me? I can’t concentrate when you’re around.”

  She let out a giddy laugh, like a giggling teenager, and wondered where the hell it came from. She hadn’t laughed like that since . . . since she was a teenager.

  “You got a real pretty laugh, babe.”

  She usually hated when men called her “babe” because she thought it was demeaning. But wh
en Brett said it, the way he said it – with a sexy crooked smile and the quirk of his eyebrows – made a tingle dance over her flesh, and she let out a breath. “I’m going inside.” This was ridiculous. She did not flirt with rock stars or their entourage. Although they certainly turned her on, she had always dated professionals, when she had the time, which seemed like eons ago.

  “Where are you running off to?” Brett asked, placing a hand on her upper arm. “I thought we’d share a cold drink. We’ve already had a hot one.”

  Kira stared at his hand, then into those smoldering eyes. She wanted to be annoyed that he brought up their quickie at Starbucks, but the memory left her dizzy and made her stomach flutter. “It was a one-time thing. I don’t know why it happened in the first place.”

  “I do.”

  “Really?” she challenged him. “Why do you think it happened?”

  “Because you like me.”

  “I don’t even know you.” Was he used to women throwing themselves at him, as if he was a rock star? She wondered if groupies hooked up with the road crew when they couldn’t score with the talent. “I have to get back to work.” She spun around and marched toward the studio without bothering with the restroom. She quickened her pace when she heard his footsteps following her, stepped wrong and twisted her ankle in those God damn five-inch heels. Brett was suddenly there, one arm across her lower back. His other hand caught her by the elbow. “Thank you. But I’m fine,” she said, as she regained her footing.

  “I think you broke your heel.”

  “No!” She quickly examined her boot and realized he was joking. Relief made her smile. “Very funny.”

  “I’m glad your shoe’s OK. They’re really hot.” He bent over to look at them more closely. “You have a scuff.”

  She wasn’t falling for it again but worry made her look. “Shit. They’re brand new.” A white mark, probably from the cheap floor wax, streaked across the black leather.

  Brett pulled a bandana from his back pocket and rubbed at the mark. When it didn’t come off, he licked his finger, wiped a wet trail along the toe of her boot, and tried again.

  Did he just put saliva on her leather Christian Louboutin ankle boot? She couldn’t decide if she was offended or turned on. Heat flushed her cheeks. Turned on. It definitely turned her on.

  “That’s the best I can do. It’s not coming off.” Brett remained squatting next to her and tried one more time with his bandana.

  “Thank you. Please get up. I’ll have the shoe place take care of it.”

  He stood and took her elbow in his hand. “Do you need me to help you? Are you all right?”

  “I’m . . .” While he held her elbow, his thumb gently massaged the indent on the inside of her arm. It was insanely erotic, and she couldn’t finish her sentence. Her mouth was still open, but nothing came out. He was standing so close to her, less than a foot away, and she was frozen by his gaze. It traveled deep within her, caressing her from the inside out. His stare turned her into a pool of melting butter and broke down all of her defenses. Her eyes dropped to his mouth as he leaned in, making her lips quiver and beg for another visit from his skilled tongue.

  While his thumb continued to stroke the tender flesh on the inside of her elbow, his kiss suffocated her. She couldn’t get enough of this man and leaned into him. He pushed her against the wall and flattened his body against hers. One hand slid around her waist, and the other cupped her cheek, while his scruffy beard tickled her and his tongue claimed her. Everything came back to her. The way he had consumed her until she cried out. The way he penetrated her while holding her suspended in his arms. The way he brought her to unsurmountable ecstasy. And the way his strength made her weak.

  His erection made itself known like a steel rod and drove a shuddering sensation through her core. It was unlike any reaction she’d ever had before, and she sighed loudly. “I don’t know what you do to me.”

  A sly smile spread across his lips. “I’m just doing what you want.”

  They melted into the wall as they shared another kiss, bodies molding together from shoulder to knee.

  “I have to get back to work,” she said, breathlessly.

  “Meet me for dinner.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  She had absolutely no good reason not to see him. Except that he totally corrupted her ethics. “All right. Seven thirty.”

  He stole her phone from her back pocket and held it up to face her. “Put in your code.”

  “What?”

  “Just do it.”

  She punched in her security code, unlocking her phone. He turned it around and tapped on the keypad. Ringing came from within his pocket before he ended the call and handed her phone back to her. “Now you have my number and I have yours. I’m calling you at seven. Don’t stand me up.”

  She went back to the studio, flushed and overheated. Before she opened the door, she stopped and glanced back at Brett, who was still standing in the hallway and smiling at her. Get a grip, she told herself, taking a deep breath and pushing her shoulders back before entering the studio. She expected to find everyone back to work, but they were all still enjoying lunch and goofing around. At least Angel and Tommy were deep in conversation with Brandon Bullet, discussing something around the soundboard.

  Kira went straight over to her sister. “Do you see your husband? I guess these Bulletproof guys are a bad influence.” Jimmy and Alan Delgado were in the middle of a competition to see who could spin their drumsticks the longest.

  “Don’t blame Bulletproof. It was Jimmy who initiated the challenge. And I think he’s winning.” Audra turned toward Kira and her smile faded. She leaned closer and looked at Kira more intently. “Why are you so flushed and out of breath?”

  Kira felt the heat on her cheeks and tried to hide it with her hands. “I just saw Brett in the hallway.”

  Audra’s mouth fell open. “Did you just have a quickie in the hallway?”

  “No! But I agreed to see him tonight.”

  Kira’s phone vibrated at exactly seven o’clock. She knew it was Brett but couldn’t take the call because she had headphones on while she listened to Jimmy’s drum tracks. If everyone weren’t such perfectionists, they would have been done hours ago. Since Bulletproof had a hard stop at four, the vocals and guitar chords were recorded first, and then Immortal Angel was left to add the rhythm, which was taking forever.

  It took 35 minutes before she could pull herself away to return Brett’s call. She ducked into the restroom, found the missed call and tapped on it.

  “Standing me up after all, huh?” Brett teased.

  “No. I’m stuck at the studio. I’m sorry. I’ll be another hour, at least.”

  “I know how it is. I’ve been at enough recording sessions to know they never go as planned. Musicians!” he scoffed, playfulness heavy in his voice.

  She laughed, relieved he didn’t think she was blowing him off. “I really want to see you later. Will you be around?”

  “I got no plans. Except to take a really hot music exec out to dinner.”

  She heard his smile through the phone, and it made her stomach flip-flop. “I’ll call you as soon as I’m done.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  “Problem,” the audio guy said, as soon as she walked back into the studio. “Background noise. We need to re-record the drum tracks.”

  Kira dropped her chin into her chest. It was going to be a long night.

  It was almost ten when Kira finally got back to the hotel. She was utterly exhausted but, at least, the single was done. And it fucking rocked. She plopped down onto the bed and pulled her phone from her handbag. There were two messages from Brett, the last only 30 minutes ago, and she sent a quick reply.

  KIRA: Just got in – exhausted! But still ready to rock. Give me 20 mins to grab a shower.

  She checked her emails while she waited for a response from Brett. Forty-seven new email messages. Her vision started to blur as she s
crolled through them and read a few, her lids growing heavier with each one. She yawned and leaned her head back onto the pillow. Ten minutes, she told herself. Just let me close my eyes for 10 minutes.

  The sunlight slashed across Kira’s face, forcing her to shield her eyes. Momentarily dazed, it took her a few seconds to remember she was in a hotel room in Chicago. Her eyes shot open and she sat up. Brett! Disappointment made her frown, and she let out a sad whimper. She couldn’t believe she’d slept through the night and missed seeing him. She knew it was silly because they’d just met, but she rarely had such a strong physical connection with someone. The sexy, bearded roadie, filled with swagger and confidence, lit up her boring life with passion. She ached for one more night with him, but her commitment and dedication to her career came first and robbed her of a wild night of uninhibited sex. Or at least time spent with someone who excited her.

  The clock read twenty minutes past six. She didn’t care that it was early; she needed to tell him what happened. She found her phone hidden under one of the pillows scattered across the bed. There were three messages from Brett from last night asking if she still wanted to get together and if she was OK. “Damn it!” She quickly typed back a message.

  KIRA: I’m so sorry! I fell asleep and just woke up. I really wanted to see you. 

  She put her head back down on the pillow, visions of Brett filling her body with want. Her phone dinged an incoming call, and she jumped. “What are you doing up?” she asked into the phone.

  “Your text woke me.”

  “I didn’t mean to disturb you. I just wanted you to know that I didn’t intentionally leave you hanging like that. I’m so mad at myself right now.”

  “You’re up. I’m up. Let’s have breakfast.”

  She didn’t have to be at O’Hare until nine so she had time. “How soon can you get to The Godfrey Hotel? There’s a rooftop breakfast buffet with bottomless mimosas!”