Rock Star Romance Ultimate Volume 2

by Mankin, Michelle

  As Abby finished up the song, I adjusted my guitar on my shoulder, so I could head out to join her. We’d planned to sing several duets together, including I’ll Take You with Me. But Abby surprised me by abandoning her stool and handing off her guitar to a technician. She then went over to the piano and sat down. “There’s one more song I’d like to do tonight before Jake joins me. It’s another song by one of my favorite and most inspirational singers, Pink. It’s called The Great Escape, and it’s for anyone who has hit rock bottom and is thinking about making an escape.” She glanced up from the microphone and met my questioning gaze. “But most of all, this one is for you, babe.”

  Her fingers effortlessly flew over the black and white keys as she began the song. Leaning against the side of the stage, I listened intently to the lyrics. Even though I tried fighting them, tears stung my eyes, especially the part about how the passion and the pain would keep me alive someday. The song captured so much of the desperately dark emotions I’d been experiencing in the past two months since Mama’s death. I knew there would be more desperate times ahead, but I wouldn’t be making any escapes. I had Abby by my side, my bandmates and brothers, and the new love of Abby’s family to get me through.

  When Abby finished, I strode out on stage and pulled her up from the piano bench. After I wrapped my arms tight around her, I murmured into her ear. “Thank you, Angel.”

  “You’re welcome.” She kissed me on the lips, which caused the crowd to go wild. Working the moment, Abby took a microphone from the technician and asked, “I guess you guys are ready for us to sing together now?”

  Whistles and catcalls filled the air. “Well, all right then.” The set was changed to where two microphones sat between two stools. Abby and I adjusted our guitars on our laps.

  The first song we did together was a cover of Tim McGraw and Faith Hill’s I Need You. Perched on the stool across from me, Abby grinned when I changed the lyrics from riding across West Virginia to West Georgia and the part about cowboys going out like that to rockers. We finished the song to thunderous applause. I bobbed my head at Abby to do the next introduction. She grinned and winked at me. “We want to thank everyone who has made I’ll Take You with Me a hit. It means so much to Jake and myself because we wrote the song together. In fact, it was the first songwriting I ever did. So here it is.”

  Even though the song was emotional hell, I never got tired of performing it with Abby. Each time she brought something different to it—either emphasizing a new word or whispering part of a line. She kept me on my toes on stage just like in the real world, and I loved every minute of it.

  After the applause died down, I leaned in to the microphone. “So for our last song together, we wanted to do another cover. Hopefully this time next year we’ll have written more material together. But for now, this song captures so much of what I feel for Abby, or my Angel. Here’s Paul McDonald and Nikki Reed’s All I Ever Needed.”

  Throughout the song, Abby and I kept our eyes locked. Although we were separated by our guitars and the microphone stand, we inched as close as we could. Like the lyrics, she was my shelter in the storm and all I would ever need.

  When the last verse echoed throughout the park, Abby leaned over the microphone to kiss me passionately. The crowd loved it, and the applause and cheering became deafening. Abby started to rise off of her stool to make her departure from the stage, but I stopped her.

  Her brows furrowed in confusion. “Jake—”

  I tried stilling the rapid beating of my heart. I knew what I was about to do was huge, and I wanted to make sure it was absolutely perfect. Speaking into my microphone, my voice cracked as it echoed over the crowd. “Two of the songs we sang together mean everything to me, Angel. You’re all I’ve ever needed, or I could ever want. There’s nothing I want more than to spend the rest of my life making you happy.”

  I rose off my stool and dug the small jewelry box out of my pocket. When I cracked it open, the enormous emerald cut diamond caught the stage lights, and it sparkled, causing Abby to shriek with shock. “Oh my God…Oh. My. God!” she exclaimed. Her hands came up to cover her mouth.

  With a grin, I knelt down on one knee before her. The crowd started screaming and whistling so loud I could barely hear myself think. I’d gone over and over in my head a million times what I planned to say. I wanted it to be heartfelt and meaningful. I was a songwriter for fuck’s sake, but in that moment, it all flew out of my head.

  So I gave up and took Abby’s hand in mine. “Angel, will you make my life complete and whole by marrying me?”

  Tears shimmered in Abby’s eyes as she hopped off of her stool. I barely had time to prepare before she threw herself into my arms, almost toppling me over. “Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you!”

  At her acceptance, the crowd once again went crazy while the guys played a rocker remix of the Bridal March. Wrapping Abby in my arms, I stood up and spun her around. As a self-respecting dude, I’d never believed in fairy tales, but in that moment, I did. I’d found my angel to live happily-ever-after with.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  * * *

  Katie Ashley is a New York Times, USA Today, and Amazon Best-Selling author of both Indie and Traditionally published books. She’s written rockers, bikers, manwhores with hearts of gold, New Adult, and Young Adult. She lives outside of Atlanta, Georgia with her daughter, Olivia, her Heeler-Mix, Belle, Black Lab mix, Elsa, and her cat, Harry Potter. She has a slight obsession with Pinterest, The Golden Girls, Shakespeare, Harry Potter, and Star Wars.

  With a BA in English, a BS in Secondary English Education, and a Masters in Adolescent English Education, she spent eleven years teaching both middle and high school English, as well as a few adjunct college English classes. As of January 2013, she became a full-time writer.

  Although she is a life-long Georgia peach, she loves traveling the country and world meeting readers. Most days, you can find her being a hermit, styling leggings, and binging on Netflix whenever her toddler daughter isn’t monopolizing the TV with Paw Patrol or Frozen.

  DIRTY LIKE ME

  JAINE DIAMOND

  Dirty… Sexy… Crazy!

  (It wouldn’t be Zane’s story without a little crazy in it!)

  If you haven’t already read about Zane and Maggie’s white-hot night in Vegas, get Dirty Like Us (Dirty #0.5) FREE in both ebook and audiobook HERE.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  * * *

  A note about the Dirty series and the reading order of the series…

  This book, Dirty Like Me (Dirty #1), is the first full-length novel in the Dirty series—a rockstar romance series about the members of the rock band Dirty, and the women and men who love them.

  Each novel in the Dirty series will focus on the love story of a different couple in the larger world of the series. I consider the books in the series interconnected standalones, meaning you could pick and choose which ones you read, in any order, but you will definitely get the most out of the series, the individual books and the relationships within if you read the books consecutively.

  The only exception to the above will be Dirty Like Us (Dirty #0.5). Dirty Like Us is a prequel novella; the events in that book happen in time before the events of Dirty Like Me (Dirty #1), but it features different lead characters, and you do not need to read it first.

  If I had to choose, I would actually recommend starting with this book, Dirty Like Me (Dirty #1). It is probably the best entry point to the series, as it gives a broader introduction to the world of the series and the various characters.

  Whichever book you choose to read first, I hope you’ll continue on with the rest of the books in the Dirty series as they are released. Along the way, it will be a hot, wild and sometimes crazy ride brimming with passion, angst and humor as we dig into the love lives of the characters who rock the Dirty universe.

  I hope you’ll stick with us until the breathtaking end.

  From beautiful Vancouver,

  Jaine

  CHAPTER
ONE

  * * *

  Katie

  I didn’t mean to crash the meeting.

  I fully intended to knock before entering, like a civilized person. Max had other plans. For one thing he was a dog, and for another he knew we were dropping in on my best friend, Devi. Devi was a total babe, and Max totally dug hot babes. One glimpse of the door to her office, which was ajar, and he streaked past the front desk, big wet tail wagging, startling a couple of Devi’s co-workers.

  “On it!” I blurted, diving after him, but he’d already hip-checked the door open. By the time I caught up, my wayward black lab was shaking off his rain-wet fur in a flurry of excitement, spraying Devi and the three other people standing in her office. I made a mad grab for his collar.

  I missed.

  Hovering awkwardly on the threshold, I clutched the tin of miniature pies I’d been unpacking in the lobby and mouthed a Sorry! at my BFF.

  “Hey, Katie!” Devi smiled brightly, tussling Max’s ears with a friendly pat. “Max! Aren’t you wet.” She shot me a look that said something like, Nice to see you, but what the hell?

  “Um… hi,” I said. Devi was a talent agent; her agency repped models and actors, so I was used to running into beautiful people in her office. Though I didn’t usually crash her meetings with my dog, wet and disheveled in my paint-stained jeans. “Sorry about my dog. Come on, Max.” I gave Max the get-your-furry-butt-over-here look, a look he knew well but completely ignored, since Devi and her pretty female guest were now loving him up.

  “No problem. We were just finishing up.” Devi gestured for me to stay put, though I really just wanted to grab my delinquent dog and get the hell out of there. I felt ridiculously conspicuous in my white tank top, which I’d regretted wearing about two seconds after it started raining. As Devi wrapped things up with her guests, I took stock. Yep. Purple bra totally showing through my now-transparent tank.

  Great.

  Devi was shaking hands with the built dude in the short-sleeve button-down, and I noticed some tattoos on his muscular arm, but that was about it. My attention had already snapped to the other guy as some unconscious, primal part of me registered his hotness before the rest of me could catch up.

  Plus, he was staring at me.

  Or at least, my see-through shirt.

  Devi strode to the door to see her guests out and I stepped aside, holding my tin of pies, trying to disappear into the wall. He was coming at me. Tall and broad-shouldered, his thick, dark hair in unkempt waves that gave him a decidedly just-fucked look, like some lucky bitch had just clawed through it. Totally worked on him. He wore a fitted black T-shirt, which I swore I could see his well-defined abs through, and ripped, dark jeans molded to his long, hard thighs…

  My brain must have short-circuited, because my gaze got stuck on the package in the front of those jeans. When I looked up, his molasses-dark eyes were locked on mine. He stopped a foot in front of me and stared.

  Fair enough, since he’d just caught me checking him out like a horny perv.

  I cleared my throat, which was suddenly tight. “Pie?” I fumbled with the tin, lifting it between us, blocking his view of my bra. “They’re cherry.”

  He glanced in the tin, where two dozen hand-crafted miniature pies were neatly arranged, my signature cherry filling peeking out through the crisscrossed pastry tops. Then his gaze lifted to mine again. He had the longest, darkest eyelashes I’d ever seen on a man. High cheekbones. Luscious, kissable lips. Strong jaw shadowed with dark stubble, like he hadn’t shaved in days. And those beautiful dark eyes, smoldering at me and making me blush, big time.

  “Maybe another time,” he said, the deep, sexy rumble of his voice stirring parts of my anatomy that hadn’t been stirred in a crazy long time. I noticed something tick against his teeth as he gave me a faint yet heart-stopping smile. A piercing?

  No. Candy.

  Cinnamon. His breath smelled like cinnamon.

  I glanced over at Devi. She and the others were standing in the doorway, staring at us.

  Max, ever the opportunist, snuffled into the hand of the hottest guy in the world as I stood there, dazed. I noticed the big, silver rings on his fingers as he stroked Max’s velvety ears, and the tattoo on his wrist, a pair of dark wings wrapped around his strong forearm.

  “Come on, Max.” I pulled Max back so he could get by. “Sorry. He, um, likes you.” Normally Max preferred the ladies, but I could hardly fault his taste.

  The hottest guy on the planet said nothing. He didn’t really get a chance before the ever-charming Devi intervened and herded all three of them out the door.

  I set my tin of mini pies on Devi’s desk, feeling kind of windblown, like I’d just stepped in out of a storm rather than a light Vancouver mist. Really, a girl should be warned before a guy that hot gave her the most thorough eye-fucking of her life.

  Did I really offer him pie?

  Cherry pie?

  Ugh. So fucking smooth.

  I tidied Max into an obedient ball on the rug beneath the desk and willed him to stay put as Devi returned, shutting the door behind herself.

  “I know,” she gushed. “So fucking hot, right?”

  Um, yeah. But I knew better than to answer that honestly. The last time I casually inquired about a hot guy I glimpsed at my best friend’s office, she took it upon herself to hook the two of us up on a blind date. And when a hot male model gets set up with someone he assumes will be some equally hot female model, but turns out to be just some regular girl, things do not go well. For the regular girl.

  Luckily, Devi didn’t even wait for my response. “Jesus, Katie.” She strode over, a takeout coffee cup in each hand. “What the hell?”

  “I know. Max just bolted for your office—”

  “Not that.” She gave me a no-contact air hug, then glanced down at my chest. “You look like a sexy drowned rat. Heard of an umbrella?”

  “My hands were full.”

  Devi scowled. “Do not tell me you rode your skateboard in the rain. I hate it when you do that.”

  I rolled my eyes a little. My glamorous best friend had never understood my love affair with my skateboard. Of course, she drove a luxury SUV her parents bought for her and lived in her own suite in their giant house, so she didn’t exactly relate to my thriftiness. In the case of my preferred mode of transportation, she just saw it as risky behavior. Unfortunately, my big sister agreed with her. “Becca already gave me the lecture when I stopped to pick up the coffees.”

  Devi set my cherry-vanilla latte on the desk with a little harrumph and eyed the mini pies with suspicion. “You’ve been baking.”

  “Just some pies.” I flopped into one of the chairs facing the desk, which still had hot guy pheromones all over it. I sucked back a deep breath, savoring the lingering scents of cinnamon, leather, and the faint, intoxicating musk of a warm, clean male.

  “Katie.”

  “What?” I glanced up; Devi was studying me accusingly.

  “Just pie?”

  “And some scones.”

  She raised a slender eyebrow.

  “And a few cookies,” I added.

  “What flavor?”

  “Chocolate chip.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And pecan butter ripple.”

  “I knew it. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Bullshit. You look…” Devi looked at me sideways. “Horny.”

  “I am not horny,” I lied. Who wouldn’t be after getting eye-fucked like that? My head was still dangerously deprived of blood.

  Devi sat down behind her desk. She looked gorgeous, as always, her dark hair smoothed out, flawless cappuccino skin set off with velvety red lipstick, sleeveless black top tricked out with a chunky necklace and leopard-print leggings, all of which she’d probably worn specifically for the meeting she’d just had. Fashion was just one of the many ways Devi built rapport with people.

  I, on the other hand, considered myself coordinated if I managed to pul
l on matching shoes.

  “Spill.” She gathered up the slew of model photos that littered the surface of her desk, stuffing them into a file folder. “I’ve got like ten minutes before my next meeting. What’s up?”

  “Nothing. We just miss you.” It was true; my best friend had been pulling a lot of overtime, which was great for her career but not so great for me.

  “I miss you guys, too.” She reached beneath the desk and pet Max. “But that’s not the reason you busted in here.”

  “Again, sorry. Just wanted to talk to you. I figured this may be my only chance to do it face-to-face.”

  “Talk about…?”

  I took a breath and sighed. “I think… I may be ready.”

  Devi lit up, then caught herself and cooled her reaction. “Oh?” She was trying really hard not to jump for joy. It was kind of cute.

  “I know you’ve been telling me this for a long time. I just had to get there myself.”

  “For sure.”

  “For so long I just wasn’t ready, you know? And then maybe I was, sort of, but I was scared. And then it just got easy to keep avoiding it. But now…”

  “Now?” Devi fluttered her dark eyelashes hopefully.

  I sipped my latte. “Are you sure you have time for this?”

  “Hell, yes.”

  “Okay. I think I need to go on a date.”

  “Halle-fucking-lujah!”

  “Alright. Ugh. I’m so bad at this.” Just saying it out loud to Devi made me nervous. Especially when she got all sparkly about it.

  “What? Dating?” Devi sipped her coffee, waving a manicured hand in the air. “You always say that, but you never date. How do you get good at anything unless you practice?” She waggled her eyebrows, making me grin.

  When it came to dating, Devi was a total pro. I, on the other hand, was pretty much a born-again virgin, more or less by default.