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Rock Star Romance Ultimate Volume 2

Page 85

by Mankin, Michelle


  And I was right. The room filled, and I sat through the rehearsal monologue, groaning at a few bombs. When the show started taping, there was an odd hush to it all.

  The thrum of excitement swelled as Fallon did his official monologue and we laughed along at the right spots. He held everyone’s attention as he chatted up the celebrity there to pimp her movie. Finally, when it was time for the band to play, you could actually see the host’s excitement for the music.

  Hunter even gave him a good-natured grin when Fallon mentioned the magazine cover as he introduced them.

  The lights went down and my song started its build. Hunter stepped to the microphone, head down. He curled his fingers around the stand, his other hand draped over the stationary mic. “For Kenny,” he said in a low voice, then met my gaze unerringly.

  On television. My name. I was never going to give him shit for calling me Kenny again.

  Oh, this man was never going to be boring.

  He prowled the stage with every molecule of lead singer in place.

  My lead singer.

  My guy.

  My Hunter.

  EPILOGUE

  * * *

  Hunter

  I jumped up and down near the stairs to the stage.

  “Would you stop? It’s going to be great.” Keys was crouched in front of a Toy Poodle. “Such a good girl.” She scratched her ears, offered her a treat, then tied the little card in front of her neck.

  “Do we have them lined up right?”

  “Yes, Nervous Nellie.”

  I dipped my hand into my pocket for the box. “I think I’m entitled to be nervous.”

  “You’re certifiable, but this is definitely going into the grand gesture history books.”

  “Yeah?”

  Keys laughed. “Yes. Definitely. Now, let me get these guys lined up. C’mon Snickers, you’re up first.” The sleek brown Dachshund trotted behind her.

  “Thank you so much for coming out for the Love & Paws Dog Show.” Kenny’s clear voice came from the stage. “It doesn’t matter how young or old a dog is, with the right love and attention, they can be trained to be a perfect addition to your home. Love & Paws will help you every step of the way. We want these guys—Oh, look, here they come now—we want them to find a perfect fur-ever home with you.”

  She introduced each dog as I herded them up the stairs, checking that their cards were in the right order.

  “You ready, Cujo?”

  The Morkie leaped off the stairs into my arms. “I’m trusting you with this.” I dug out the box in my pocket. “This is very expensive. You cannot eat it.”

  Cujo snapped at my fingers.

  I threaded the red ribbon through the sparkling diamond and tied a double bow at the back of his neck. “Now I expect you to do all of the tricks. And I mean all of them.” Cujo tilted his head, then yipped. His tongue lolled out the side of his mouth where two teeth had to be pulled.

  The exact reason why I’d signed the adoption papers that morning. We’d fallen in love with him on sight.

  My stomach jittered and my heart was beating so loud I couldn’t hear Kenny talking anymore.

  I tucked Cujo into the crook of my arm as I climbed the steps. When I got to the top, I winked at Kenny at the podium.

  “And here he is at last.”

  The crowd cheered. People were settled on blankets, strollers were being rocked, and children were playing with dogs near the lake. A sea of people.

  Christ, I hope she said yes.

  “And say hello to my new boyfriend,” she said as I waved. “Cujo,” she finished with a grin.

  “Hey!” I said and the crowd laughed.

  Could you actually sweat through a shirt in two minutes? I was pretty sure you could.

  I cleared my throat. “So, what do you think of our superstars today?” I stopped near Snickers and patted his head.

  The crowd clapped.

  I tore away the paper hanging from his neck. The oversized brass tag had a “W” on it.

  Kenny frowned, but went with it. “Isn’t he adorable? Snickers was the top of his class this last month.”

  I moved down to the next dog and tore off his paper. The “I” jangled with the rest of the German Shepherd’s collar and tags.

  Kenny grinned. “Isn’t Isaiah gorgeous? He came to Love & Paws after his owner died suddenly.” The crowd made sympathetic noises. “He’s perfect for a home with kids. Lots of energy and just a giant marshmallow.”

  Most of the dogs were tagged with the right letter as I went down the line. It was difficult to find enough dogs who would behave next to others for me to spell out what I needed to.

  Cujo pranced and preened along behind me. Totally playing up to the crowd with all his little tricks.

  When I got to the last dog, Kenny stopped talking. The question mark tag on the Alaskan Malamute made her come out from the podium.

  A murmur went through the crowd, followed by laughter and clapping.

  I didn’t look away from her, even when her hand went up to her mouth and she looked down and away.

  “Kenny?”

  She turned to me, her eyelashes starred.

  Cujo shot through my legs. He ran in circles around Kenny until she bent to pick him up.

  Two long strides and I was there in front of her. “What do you say?”

  She gripped my shirt. “I can’t believe you.”

  “Will you marry me?”

  “Yes.” She laughed when Cujo popped up between us and licked her face with a small whine. “Not bad tears.” She nuzzled the wiggling dog. “Good tears.”

  “Only good tears. I told you.” I held up the newest member of our family.

  “Oh, Hunter.” She lifted the ring hanging from the ribbon on Cujo’s chest.

  “Like it?”

  Her eyes were huge and brimming again. “Love it.”

  I untied the ribbon, the platinum and diamond winking in the sun. I dropped down to one knee in front of her. The crowd cheered as she nodded again.

  Then all the dogs ambushed me. I held up my arm as I went down. “Take it!” I yelled.

  She laughed and plucked the ring out of my hand.

  The crowd laughed. Isaiah came barreling through the crowd of mutts and pinned me to the stage, licking my face. The rest of the dogs piled on.

  “You’re not going to help me?” I asked my new fiancée.

  “Nope.” Kenny slid the ring on her finger and held it up to look at. “I’m busy.”

  I pushed away the doggie faces. “This is not the kiss I thought I would be getting.” Somehow I broke through the melee and dragged Kenny down on top of me.

  She leaned away. “You’re covered in dog drool.”

  “Too bad.”

  She laughed, using her sleeve to wipe my face.

  “I’m good now?”

  “You’re good.” She wound her arms around my neck. “I love you, you idiot.”

  “Your forever idiot.”

  Her smile was the most glorious thing I’d ever seen. “My forever idiot.”

  ROCKERS READING ORDER

  * * *

  Lost in Oblivion

  Winchester Falls

  Found in Oblivion

  Hammered

  Rock Revenge

  Brooklyn Dawn

  ABOUT THE AUTHORS

  * * *

  USA Today bestselling author Cari Quinn likes music and men, so she figured why not write about both? When she’s not writing, she’s screaming at men’s college basketball games on TV, playing her music too loud or causing trouble. Sometimes simultaneously.

  USA Today bestselling author Taryn Elliott is obsessed with rock stars, men, and her unending playlists—maximizing these things seemed like a very good idea. When she’s not writing, you can probably find her surrounded by planner supplies trying to organize her life.

  They decided to combine forces and found that hey...this writing deal is even more awesome when you collaborate with your best frien
d.

  And so the Oblivion World was born.

  Contact Us

  taryncari@gmail.com

  www.QuinnandElliott.com

  MEMPHIS BLACK

  MJ FIELDS

  PROLOGUE

  * * *

  October 25, 2017 - Memphis

  I look in the mirror one last time, noticing my hair is longer on top than it is on the sides. The gel I use to style it makes it look messy and black instead of dark brown. With my black boots, I stand at six-foot-three, and having spent an hour at the gym every night after school, I finally have great definition. I’m stage ready.

  I walk out on stage with my guitar strung around my neck, pick in hand, waiting for the nerves to consume me. But they don’t.

  Why? Because I’m a damn legend; that’s why. The stadium is sold out, and the crowd is going wild.

  “Hello, New Jersey!” I hold the mic out for the crowd’s roar, and they give me exactly what I want.

  “I am Memphis Black, lead singer and guitarist extraordinaire for—” Fuck, I hate this part. What the hell is the band’s name?

  “Black Hawks,” my sister Madison whispers.

  “The Black Hawks!” I yell to the crowd.

  “That name is so lame.” I hear my sister’s friend Tally giggle.

  “You two, out.”

  “No, you said, if we videotaped this, you would—”

  “Out!”

  “Come on, it’s our first dance. We need to learn how!” Madison stomps her foot.

  “Well, you didn’t hold up your end of the deal, now did you?” I lift the guitar strap over my head.

  “Come on, please,” Madison says with huge eyes.

  “Yeah, please,” Tally joins her.

  I consider telling them to fuck off, but they would tell Mom. I consider a simple no, but they’d tell her that, too. Therefore, I choose the safest answer.

  “Fine. But you both have to shut the hell up.”

  Tally covers her mouth, looking horrified. The girl is a train wreck in epic, adolescent proportion. She has kinky brown curls and a ribbon always wrapped around her head. Freckles bridge her nose and dot her face, and she always wears cartoon character T-shirts. Today, it’s Care Bears.

  “What now, Tales?” I huff.

  “You said—”

  “Hell?” I laugh.

  She giggles again. “Yeah, you did.”

  “You know what? I think the both of you should just stay home. All freshman girls do at a dance is stand in a corner, giggle, and look like dweebs.” I look at my sister. “Mads, if a boy asks you to dance, you’ll start laughing and snorting.” Next, I point at her friend. “Tall, you’ll get some big-ass grin.” I roll my eyes when she covers her mouth again. The little girl can’t handle a curse word to save her life. “Just keep smiling and laughing, and they’ll think there’s something wrong up in those crazy heads of yours. Besides, you’re both in that—I don’t know—the awkward stage: braces, boobs just budding...”

  Tally covers her mouth again, while Madison starts to get really pissed off.

  “I mean, look at that hair. Mads, you’re so used to wearing a ball cap you have permanent hat head. And you—” I can’t resist taking one more shot at Tally—“how the hell are you gonna get a comb through that kinky mess before Saturday?”

  That’s when Madison finally screams for Mom. Tally just looks at me like that cat from the cartoon, the one with the big, green guy. Shrek? Yeah, Shrek. Puss, Puss in Boots. That’s what her face looks like.

  Looking back at her, I almost feel kind of bad for giving them a hard time.

  Mom comes in then and gives me the third degree. She tells me, “Girls are sensitive when they’re going through changes,” and that I should ‘be more thoughtful.’

  Finally, I can’t take it anymore.

  “Okay, Mom, fine. I will buy into their little girl fantasies about that girl with the blue dress, the one with the mice that turn into horses—”

  “Cinderella.” In spite of herself, my mom laughs.

  “Yeah, her.”

  Her face goes from amused to suspicious. “What exactly are they doing in your room, anyway?”

  “They were supposed to be taping my performance.”

  I try not to smile as she gives me that look. I know exactly what she’s about to say: that my rock star fantasies are just as lame as some dumb fairytale with talking mice.

  “It’s not the same thing, Mom. This is my dream, something I can actually make into a career one day.”

  “I know, Memphis.” She pats my back, smiling. “But maybe their dream is to dance.”

  CHAPTER ONE

  * * *

  THE BAND

  Three Years Later - Memphis

  “What do you mean, ‘we need a new name’?” I ask Nick DeAngelo.

  Nick, or Nickie D as we call him, our manager, crosses his arms, the black ink on his dark skin peeking out from under his shirtsleeve. “Steel is used in everything now: the popularity of the tattoo shop, the business, the—”

  “Not our fault no one else has an ounce of creativity.” Finn stands up, pulls his knit cap down to his eyebrows, pushes his dark hair to the side away from his eyes, and starts pacing. “I mean, really, what the fuck is wrong with people? Get your own shit.”

  I back him up. “Steel is where it all began. It means something to us, Nick. And to Xavier, to—”

  “His wife, Taelyn.” River wiggles his eyebrows.

  River, our drummer, adores our boss’s wife. He should. She saved his ass from being kicked out at least ten times due to his inability to stay sober for more than ten damn minutes.

  “Keep Steel, then.” Nick throws his hands up. “Just make it different.”

  “Better,” Finn snarls. “Fuckers.”

  Nick looks at his watch. “I have a meeting to get to. You guys put your creative minds together and come up with something. But don’t take too long. This tour is gonna happen. Hell, it is happening. We just need a strong name. Something Steel, but—”

  River grabs his junk through his torn up jeans. “Deeper.”

  “Much deeper.” Finn reaches over to give River a fist bump.

  “Balls deep,” I join in, making it a three-way fist bump explosion.

  Nick shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, but ‘Balls Deep’ isn’t gonna fly, boys. Keep brainstorming and shoot me a text. Then I need to get T-shirts and merch’ rolling.”

  “Do we get a cut of that?” River asks.

  “River, the money is used to help cover the band’s expenses.” With that, Nick walks out the door without a backward glance.

  Once he’s out of earshot, we all look at each other.

  “We’re sticking with Steel,” I declare.

  “Hell yes, we are,” Finn and River chime in together.

  “Steel Rocks?” Finn suggests.

  “Lame.” Even as I say it, I know River agrees.

  “Steel Destruction,” I try, and we all look at each other, speculating. “Bad ass, right?”

  “Yeah, but it needs to be totally bad ass, without question, man. Has to be totally fucking us, totally fucking hard, and hot. Just like our music.”

  I laugh. “Steel Total Destruction?”

  No one says a word; we all just stare at each other.

  After a while, River nods. “That’s right. We’ll go so hard, we’ll make anything else look like shit.”

  “Ruin it for all the other fucks out there,” Finn adds. “Tear shit up.”

  I like where this is headed.

  “So, we’re set. We are now ‘Steel Total Destruction’?” I wait for the vote to carry.

  “Fuck yes, we are.”

  “I’m sending Nick a text.”

  I chuckle evilly to myself as I type:

  WE WILL BE ‘STEEL TOTAL DESTRUCTION,’ THE BADDEST ASSES OUT THERE, GIVING RESPECT TO THE MAN WHO FOUND US.

  Not even five seconds later, Nick messages back that he loves it.

  �
��He’s in.” I laugh out loud.

  “What’s so funny, man?” River asks.

  “Not a damn thing.” I shake my head, laughing inside. Killer fucking name.

  ***

  I wake up to my phone squawking with last night’s audition grumbling, lying bare-assed next to me. Still half asleep, I grab my phone, read the message, and push her off me.

  First things first. I stumble out of my room in search of some ibuprofen and a gallon of water to get rid of the hellish hangover I’m sporting. Finn is still awake, writing, and River is asleep in his room with the Bobbsey Twins. Not really twins, but Finn felt inspired. Apparently, the treat he brought home wasn’t as important as the lyrics running inside his head, so River got two for the price of one.

  “You get a text, too?” I ask Finn after popping the pills.

  “Yes.” He doesn’t even bother to look up. “I just need ten more minutes. This is coming together perfectly.” He reaches for the bottle of Firewater sitting next to him and takes a swig.

  “Finn, your liver’s gonna be pissed at you, man,” I say over my shoulder as I head toward the bathroom.

  There’s no damn way I could do that shit: drink all night, get no sleep, eat no food, score no pussy, and still be awake in the morning, writing. He’s crazy.

  ***

  Saturday morning, we walk into Forever Four, our label’s headquarters, for an impromptu meeting. None of us are feeling it. The whole way over, Finn and River were trying to figure out what the hell is going on.

  As soon as the door opens and I hear Xavier Steel’s voice booming from the conference lounge, and I know what is up. But fuck if I’m gonna let them know that I know.

  “He sounds pissed, man.” River’s eyebrows are sky high. “His wife is probably not giving it up since I’m sure she is just waiting to tell him she’s in love with me. She’s going to leave his ass for mine. Of course, I’d try to talk her out of it. Out of respect and shit.”

 

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