When I held up a sweater and Maggie said, “Jesse prefers red,” I took it in blue.
When I held up a skirt and she mentioned, “Jesse hates plaid,” I took all the plaid I could find.
Soon, I had a pile of items that Maggie had attempted to veto on behalf of Jesse’s preferences.
Outside the fitting rooms, I was squeezed into the champagne-pink dress, which was super hot, low-cut and showed miles of leg, when I realized she was on to me. “Oh yeah,” she said, shaking her head. “Jesse would hate that.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “Whose side are you on?”
“Whatever side makes Jesse happy. You would not like working for that guy when he’s in a funk.”
I checked out my champagne-pink ass in the mirror.
“Just get the damn dress, Katie,” she said. “You look terrible.”
I grinned. I knew the dress looked good. It felt good. To hell with Jesse Mayes if he liked it or not. Despite what he might think, I wasn’t wearing it for him.
The last time I wore a dress for a man it was white, and that didn’t turn out so well for me. I sure as fuck wasn’t going down that road again—bending over backwards to be what I wasn’t to try to please a guy. Any guy.
“I’m proud of you,” Maggie said, eying me in the mirror. “I kinda feel like you’re the little bird under my wing. I wish I was coming on tour to keep you safe.”
I looked at her, slightly alarmed.
“I’m kidding. But seriously, it’s cool you’re standing on your own. A lot of girls would milk this for all it’s worth, all the time doing their damnedest to get their hooks into him. But not you. You understand this isn’t fucking Cinderella, right? The kingdom isn’t actually up for grabs.” She handed me a pair of ankle boots to pair with the dress. “You’re looking at this as a job, and how best to rock it while maintaining who you are. I totally dig that about you.”
“Thanks.” I wasn’t sure I relished the compliment. Jesse and I had a deal, yes. But it didn’t exactly feel super-awesome being reminded by someone who knew him well, someone I liked and he obviously respected, that I was nothing but the hired help.
Maggie stood back to check me out. “Don’t look now... but I’d say you look about ready for life in the spotlight.”
“Great,” I said. The thought still made my stomach turn, actually.
She stared me down in the mirror. “It fucks people up, you know.”
“Uh-huh.” I turned to face her. “Honestly? I’m pretty freaked out that I have no idea what I’m about to be dealing with. I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“Gone on tour, or dated a rock star?” She handed me my lucky leather jacket. “Or pretended to be in love with someone you aren’t?”
“All of the above.” I slipped the jacket on and turned to the mirror again. My jacket looked totally kick-ass with the pretty, sexy dress and the killer boots. And it also made me feel like myself… only a lot more glamorous.
Maggie stood beside me so we were both in the reflection. “You’ll be amazing,” she said. “Like you were in the video. Just stay out of the way when you’re not needed, and pretend the fuck out of being his dream girl when you are.”
I eyed my reflection skeptically. I looked good. But Jesse Mayes’ dream girl?
Shit.
“He chose you, right?” Maggie said, picking up on my unease. “My best advice? Just be yourself.” She reached under the collar of my jacket to adjust the shoulders of the champagne-pink dress, sliding them outward, deepening the cleavage-revealing V of the neckline. “While wearing this.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
* * *
Katie
When we got back to the hotel, Jesse had come and gone. Maggie said he and his entourage had gone ahead to the venue. He’d taken the time to dirty up my drawing though, making the little caricature Jesse’s eyes bug out of his head in the direction of the little caricature Katie, and adding a lump to the crotch of his pants.
I laughed but tossed the sketch into my sketchbook so it wouldn’t get left behind.
There was also a little bag on the bed with my name on it.
Inside, wrapped in tissue, was an incredibly gorgeous bra and panties. Silky black with lace around the edges. The bra had sparkly little rhinestones set in the lace, which made it both pretty and badass. It had skimpy demi cups, and when I tried it on, not only did it fit perfectly, it did monumental things to my cleavage.
I put on the panties too, because why not?
Once I’d gotten over the thousands of dollars Maggie had dropped on clothes for me this afternoon, I’d decided to accept the fact that things that seemed outlandish in my world—the normal world—were normal here, in Jesse’s world, and I might as well get used to it.
So I wore the beautiful, super-sexy and no doubt expensive underwear, bought for me by a rock star—or more likely, one of the members of his entourage—under the super-sexy champagne-pink dress, also paid for by said rock star, put on my expensive boots and lucky old jacket, touched up my makeup, and met Maggie in the lobby.
Flynn drove us to the venue in a rental car and when we parked in back, inside a security gate and alongside the opening band’s tour buses, my heart started to thump like I was about to take the stage.
Which, in a way, I was.
We sailed through security at the door, thanks to Flynn, and Maggie navigated the bowels of the arena like she’d been there a dozen times, which maybe she had. We ended up at a dressing room door, which was open, and joined Raf, Letty and Pepper inside. They were just pouring shots from a bottle of bourbon.
I’d glimpsed Jude in the hallway, but didn’t see Jesse until he came up behind me and slipped his strong arms around my waist.
I looked up, my gaze locking with his in the wall mirror.
“Hey, beautiful,” he whispered in my ear.
“Hey, handsome,” I returned. The thunder of the crowd rocked the building, but I swore I could hear the thunder of my heart right over it.
The opening band had finished their set, and the crowd sounded mad with lust to see Jesse Mayes in the flesh. Not that I could blame them. From where I was standing his flesh was looking pretty fucking delicious in a pair of low-waisted brown leather pants with a lace-up crotch, and a sleeveless shirt that showed off his fantastic arms.
His hands slid down and gripped my hips. He turned me toward him so abruptly I grabbed his shoulders to steady myself, and he landed one on me before I could think.
The kiss was long, hard, deep and hungry. I had no idea where it came from, but soon I’d forgotten everything but that kiss, the room dissolving to nothing but Jesse and I, locked together in a slow, hot, mind-melting make out.
When we broke apart, everyone was staring at us, but kind of pretending not to.
Someone cleared his throat.
“Jesse?” Pepper was holding out a shot of bourbon to Jesse. Raf and Letty were each holding a shot of their own. Jesse took the shot and handed it to me. Raf took the cue and handed one to Maggie, then poured another for Jesse.
We all did our shots, Jesse kissed me again, quickly, and then they were gone, all four guys heading out the door to take the stage.
When I turned to Maggie she was staring at me, a small grin hooking the corner of her mouth. The bourbon—and that kiss—had left me feeling all warm and fuzzy, and yes, horny. I shook it off as she took my hand. “Come on, beautiful,” she said, imitating Jesse’s husky voice as she pulled me into the hall, where Flynn was waiting.
We hurried to follow the band toward the stage, hanging back to keep out of the way as Jesse, Raf and Letty strapped on their guitars. Jesse exchanged a few words with the guitar tech that I couldn’t hear and they both laughed; his spirits were incredibly high, which was intoxicating to be around, and it wasn’t just that kiss. The man had electric energy that seemed to set off sparks in the air and was more than electrifying; it was magnetizing.
I wanted to get closer but I stuck to Mag
gie like glue.
As of tomorrow, I’d be doing this alone. Tonight, I was in no rush to leave her side.
While she chatted with Jude and Brody, I just stood there watching Jesse. Some local radio personality was on stage, pumping up the crowd, announcing the imminent appearance of Jesse Mayes in French and then English. The crowd went ballistic at the sound of his name, and then the guys were heading on stage.
Jesse turned, his gaze sweeping the small crowd that had formed. When he found me, he walked over, everyone moving aside for him. He took my face in one hand, brushed his lips against mine, and said, “See you after I do this thing.”
Then he turned and sauntered on stage. The curtain dropped, Pepper hoofed out a beat on the bass drum, the crowd’s insanity fired up another octave and the band kicked into “Come Lately.”
My heart was thundering so hard I could feel it over the insane vibrations of the music through the concrete under my feet.
Maggie bumped shoulders with me, and when I glanced over at her she smiled. “Time to see your man in action.”
She drew me through the small crowd; I didn’t even know who all these people were or what they were doing. Some wore press passes, and some were obviously crew, or members of the opening band. Whoever they all were, none of them bat an eye when Maggie and I, flanked by Brody and Jude, made our way into the side stage area to watch the show.
Which was incredible.
Jesse blew me away.
It was nothing like the VIP show in Vancouver, which was small, intimate, and largely unplugged.
This was huge, concrete-rattling, blow-your-hair-back, electric rock madness, and Jesse was totally in his element. The man was electric backstage, but on stage, he was on fire. This was so clearly his passion. I could feel it in his music.
His voice filled the venue, somehow carrying over his guitar and Raf’s. Pepper was a madman on the drums but he and Letty and Raf didn’t bother trying to upstage Jesse, and even I could tell that at times they could barely keep up. The man’s fingers flew over his fretboard, so fast and hard I thought for sure I was actually going to see sparks fly. He crunched out raunchy Dirty covers and played the most melodic and moving songs from his solo album, his voice one with the music, haunting and raw.
I fucking loved his music.
I got so lost in it, I forgot about everything else going on around me. I stopped feeling conspicuous or caring if anyone thought I should be here or questioned who the fuck I was. I forgot about Maggie and Brody and Jude.
I got so lost in it that it startled me when Jesse announced they were playing the last song.
Then the band ripped into “Try Me On,” the heaviest track from Sunday Morning, and Maggie leaned over. “Let’s go see it from the other side,” she said.
* * *
It was oddly otherworldly walking through the outer area, the public area, of the arena while the band played the final notes of “Try Me On.” The music was muffled, my head felt like I was underwater and I made a mental note to get some earplugs before the next show. When the song ended, the thunder of the crowd was also muffled, thudding like an erratic heartbeat.
People began to trickle out of the many entrances from the arena bowl, and soon the trickle became a never-ending throng. Inside, thousands of people were still chanting Jesse’s name, demanding an encore.
The corridors filled, and Maggie took my hand as we made our way through the crowd. Flynn followed at a distance, as usual. I glanced back at him, his dark head visible in the crowd. All of Jesse’s security guys were tall; now I could see why.
Curious, I leaned into Maggie conspiratorially. “Hey. Can we give him the slip?”
“No,” Maggie said, and leveled me with a no-bullshit look. “And you’re not gonna try.”
The crowd had thickened to near-impassable, and suddenly everyone was in a mad rush, heading back inside the arena bowl. I could hear Jesse’s voice; he was talking on stage, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying. I was trying not to get sucked into the stampede, and pretty much flattened myself against the wall. I tried to avoid eye contact with the people passing us by. Was that an effective way to avoid being recognized?
Just how famous was I by now?
Maggie laughed, pulling me toward a set of stairs that led under the arena, blocked off with a chain rope. We went over the rope, Flynn close behind. I heard the band rip into “Dirty Like Me.” The crowd hit a new level of off-the-hook, and I just hoped we’d get our asses backstage before the show let out.
Down the stairs was the same as up, with less people milling about. The music was even more muffled but I could still make out the slow, grinding thump of “Dirty Like Me.” I really would’ve liked to see Jesse play this song, but Maggie had run into Jude and was chatting with him. I wandered over to a big double door with a security guy sitting in front of it; every time it opened the music swelled. I listened to Jesse’s voice, getting swept up in the song.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
I turned. A couple of roadies in crew shirts had approached and stood staring at me. The guy in front had a big grin on his face. The other one, who looked pretty shifty, peered at me over his buddy’s shoulder, a cap with a worn old Slayer patch pulled low on his head.
“Hey,” I said.
“You wanna blow my friend, I’ll get you backstage.”
Um… right.
Before I could respond to that generous offer, a shadow fell over us and the guy’s eyes went wide. I turned to find Jude standing over me, Maggie at his heels.
“Come on, Katie.” Maggie reached around Jude, grabbed my arm and yanked me toward the double door. When I glanced back, Flynn and Jude were talking to the roadies. The security guy opened the door for us and Maggie whisked me through. “Don’t wander off like that, ’kay? And put this on.” She handed me a backstage pass like the one she was now wearing.
“Why’s everyone all twitchy about me being alone?” I asked as I followed her backstage, but my heart was still pounding. The frenzy of the thunderous crowd, which was going berserk in the aftermath of Jesse’s head-spinning, heart-stopping version of “Dirty Like Me,” wasn’t helping. “It’s freaking me out.”
We stopped at the back of the side stage area, just out of the way as the guys started coming off stage; I saw Pepper toss his drum sticks into the crowd.
“I guess it’s hard to understand the level of madness that comes along with fame until you’ve experienced it,” Maggie said. “Crazy shit happens at rock shows.”
“Uh-huh. Like some dude asking me to blow his friend.”
“What dude?”
I whirled around. Jesse, all dripping with sweat and stage lust, swept me up in his arms, holding me against him so tight I felt the thunder of his pulse pounding through his body and his semi against my groin. Evidently, he did get horny on stage.
He kissed me, long and hard, until my knees almost gave out. He tasted like the salt of sweat. When he relaxed his hold on me enough that I could look into his eyes, they were narrowed. “What dude?”
“Um, one of your roadies asked me for a blow job?” I didn’t know why it came out like a question except that my head was still spinning from that kiss.
“What roadie?” He did not look amused. Though that kind of thing must’ve happened all the time in his world. It was fucking weird to me, but as this day had made even clearer to me, I wasn’t from Jesse’s world.
“Uh, the guy with the crazy hair?” I looked to Maggie for help, but she just raised an eyebrow, staying out of this one. “You know... the kinda bow-legged one.” I looked up into Jesse’s eyes, which were blackening by the second.
Pepper and Raf walked up and Pepper slapped Jesse on the back. “Great show, man.”
Jesse ignored them, still locked onto me. “A blow job?”
Pepper and Raf took their cue from Jesse’s tone and made themselves scarce. I would’ve liked to join them, but Jesse still had me in his arms and his grip wasn’t letting up.
I didn’t even do anything wrong.
“Uh-huh. What creepy friend?” Okay. Definitely pissed. And also sexy, even when pissed.
It was starting to dawn on me, however, that I wasn’t the one he was pissed at.
“Oh. The, uh, mute one in the Slayer cap.”
I glanced at Maggie again, who for once had nothing helpful, clever or managerial to say.
Not a good sign.
“Last one?” Raf called over, switching out his guitar.
“In a minute.” Jesse wiped the sweat from his face with a towel someone tossed him. “Wait here,” he told me. He tossed the towel aside, kissed me again, and stalked back toward the stage.
The guitar tech handed him one of his guitars and he slung it on. I followed as far as I could and stood with Brody at the side of the stage, watching.
A singe white light shone on Jesse as he walked on stage. The thunder of the crowd was deafening as he took his place, center stage. It died down slightly when he gripped the mic in his fist, and gradually hushed as he began to speak.
“This one’s for Katie,” he said, and the crowd erupted again as the band kicked into a song I’d never heard before.
By the time they reached the chorus, I figured it out.
It was the new song. My song.
The one he said he was going to play for me on tour. I’d really thought he was joking. Flirting.
But the song was real. And it was awesome. Sweet. Sexy. Catchy as all hell.
By the end of it I was humming along with the chorus. If Brody wasn’t standing right next to me, I would’ve sang it out loud.
There’s a new girl, and she’s just my kind...
Found a new girl now, and I’m gonna make her mine.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
* * *
Katie
I could totally see how it could overwhelm a guy, like completely hijack his hormones, when a bunch of pretty French-speaking chicks in very little clothing swarmed around him, begging for his autograph and firing questions at him with their cute accents.
Rock Star Romance Ultimate Volume 2 Page 42