Dangerous Rock: A Rock Star Romance (Dangerous Noise Book 3)

by Crystal Kaswell

  Bella takes in the photos on the screen. "He was. And those braces. They suit you, baby." She winks at me.

  "You like the pictures?" Mom asks.

  Bella nods.

  "Good." Mom smiles. "I have plenty more where those came from."

  It's a quiet weekday afternoon at that time between lunch and dinner. This place is dead. There's only one other group here, and from the way they're dressed like they're going to church after this, I'm pretty sure they have no idea who I am.

  Mom delights in embarrassing me all through whatever this meal is called. She's on wine glass two. Bella's still abstaining. And I'm three beers in, which is two more than I should have given how much I need to pay attention. This is one of the rare times when I need inhibitions.

  I can't tell Mom what I think about the divorce.

  Not in front of Bella.

  I don't mind Mom sharing stories and pictures from my childhood. It's part of the whole meeting the parents thing. Not that I've ever experienced it firsthand.

  I'm glad to see Bella smiling.

  I'm glad to see Mom laughing. Even if I don't get how she can be this happy days after announcing her divorce.

  Mom and Bella finish laughing over a picture of my first drum performance.

  Under the table, Bella squeezes my hand. "It's all over little Joel's face. He wants to drum more than he wants anything else in the world."

  "He's always been passionate." Mom looks from Bella to me then back to Bella. "You have to forgive me for talking your ear off. I could go on about Joel and Daphne all day. But I do want to hear more about you too, sweetheart. Joel tells me you're from New York."

  "Yes, my parents… just my dad now. We live in Manhattan. I have my own place by school. Columbia. It's tiny, but it's mine. I could live at home with Dad. He works so many hours that I would have the place to myself."

  Mom makes that mhmm noise. "Yes, I know the type. Joel's father is the same way. Forgive me for asking sweetheart, but it's just your father now?"

  She nods. "My mother died when I was twelve. She had a heart attack." Bella presses her lips together. "Dad stepped up to take care of us, but it wasn't the same."

  Mom nods.

  "Anne, my older sister, she did a lot too. She taught me about clothes and makeup. And boys. She's good at all those practical, life things. I'm much more academic. I can ace a test but I can barely boil water." Bella looks to me. "She would like Joel. Actually, she does like Joel. She's a big Dangerous Noise fan."

  "And you?" Mom asks.

  "They're pretty good. But I'm more into pop," Bella says.

  Mom laughs. "I don't know, the music today, it all sounds like pop. I'm showing my age now, but it's not the same as when I was younger."

  Bella laughs. "I know what you mean."

  "Be honest, sweetheart, do I sound old when I say that?" Mom asks.

  Bella presses her lips together. "A little."

  Mom looks to me.

  I nod. "A little."

  "My son—you can appreciate his honesty. But then, he also thinks I don't realize that he lies to spare my feelings. I sound ancient complaining about the kid's music." Mom smiles at me then looks to Bella. "I was worried when he dropped out of school to play music. It's a hard road. He's done well."

  Bella smiles. "He's a machine. And the way he knows exactly what he wants… it's admirable." She gets a dreamy look in her eyes. "Mom would have liked Joel. She would have been taken aback by all the tattoos, but he's so charming—"

  "He is," Mom says. "I'm not sure where he gets it."

  Bella laughs. "You two have the same green eyes."

  "Thank you." Mom smiles. "What do you do in New York, sweetheart?"

  "Oh." Bella chews on her lower lip. "I'm a student at Columbia Law School."

  "A lawyer." Mom looks to me and raises her eyebrows nicely done. "Do you know what kind of law you'd like to practice?"

  "Well…" Bella stares at her roasted potatoes. "I… Um…"

  Her expression is the picture of misery.

  Mom's voice gets softer. "What was that, sweetheart?"

  "Well… I…" Bella pinches her pointer finger. Then the middle. The ring. Pinkie. Then she's doing the same to her other hand. "That's… it could be a long way off. Maybe."

  I shouldn't step in here.

  I know that.

  But I have to do something about the pained expression on her face.

  "Bella's thinking about leaving law school," I say.

  "Joel." Bella's eyes meet mine. She glares what the hell?

  "You don't want to go back," I say.

  "Maybe." She stabs a potato.

  "Not maybe. You hate law school," I say.

  "No. I just…" Bella stares at the silverware like it has the answers to every question in the history of the world. "Let's talk about this later."

  "So you can make another excuse?" I ask.

  "Not right now." Bella's voice breaks. Her eyes stay on the table.

  "Are you going to run away from this forever?" I ask.

  She looks to me. "Does what I do forever really matter to you?"

  Mom's brow furrows as she attempts to work that out. I'm not about to explain. Or concede Bella's point.

  Mom clears her throat. "You're young. You have time.

  Bella stares at me. Let it go.

  I stare back. No fucking way.

  Bella sets her silverware down. She pulls her napkin from her lap and tosses it on the table. "Excuse me. I'm going to… actually, I don't feel well. I think I'm going home."

  "Bella—"

  Mom clears her throat. "Great idea, sweetie. We'll get some coffee and see you later."

  "Yes. Good. I'll, um. It's been really nice talking to you." She offers Mom a pained smile. Her eyes catch mine. They scream how could you.

  But she says nothing.

  She walks away, calmly, like nothing has ever bothered her.

  Mom leans in to whisper. "Sweetheart, what was that?"

  "You saw her expression when she brought up law school." My eyes stay on my plate. "I'm not going to stand back and let her ruin her life."

  "It's her life to ruin."

  "She's my wife."

  Mom's expression gets serious. "You and Daphne are everything to me. But you've only been married a few days. You don't get to claim she's your wife like it's been thirty years."

  "And you know what about marriage?"

  She doesn't shrink back. "I gave your father everything I had. He didn't give back."

  I bite my tongue.

  "You know that's true, Joel. He's not a bad man. I still love him. I always will. But he isn't the kind of partner I want anymore. I want my own life." She looks to the bathroom. "And your wife, she wants her own life too. Not one curated by Joel Young."

  "I'm not—"

  "You are."

  Maybe. But— "She needs a push."

  "From you?"

  "From somebody.

  "Have you tried looking at things from her perspective?"

  "I'm not going to let her throw her happiness away."

  "Have you?"

  Not exactly.

  But Mom already knows that. It's written all over her face.

  Fine. I take a deep breath and I try to put myself in Bella's shoes.

  I just married a hot stranger and found out he's famous. I'm worried my dad is about to disown me for that.

  Then I have my law school grades to worry about.

  The law school grades part isn't clicking. But if it was an album that bombed…

  If the band was breaking up, or I was giving up on music, and I had to face everyone I know and tell them I'd failed at my life's work.

  Even if I fucking hated music, I'd be terrified. What the hell else would I do?

  How would I deal with the constant pity?

  Mom's voice is soft. "I wanted our marriage to work. Your father wanted it to work. But it was always his way or the highway. And I couldn't live like that anymore." Sh
e pats my hand. "Deep down, you know that. Deep down, you know that we weren't happy."

  Maybe.

  "I can tell you two are new, but you seem good together." She looks me in the eyes. "If you want to help her, listen to her."

  "Yeah."

  "We can meet for breakfast tomorrow." Mom motions to the lobby. "Go, fix things with your wife."

  22

  Joel

  I practically run to the apartment. It's only half a mile, but it feels like an eternity. By the time I arrive, my heart is thudding. My breath is in my throat. My sweat-soaked t-shirt is sticking to my chest.

  Bella is sitting in front of the door, cross-legged, her eyes on her phone.

  "It's the same." She motions to the cell screen. "I still have Cs." She blinks and a tear rolls down her cheek. "I'm still a failure."

  I take a seat next to her. "Don't say shit like that."

  She pulls her arms over her chest. "Avoiding the words doesn't change the facts."

  "Cs are passing grades."

  "Technically. But they aren't good enough. I'm not cut out for law school and nothing is going to change that." She wipes a tear with the back of her hand. "I've failed at what's supposed to be my life's work. My future." She takes an unsteady breath. Her eyes go to her hands, then to the inside of her wrists. "What the hell do I do now?"

  I resist my urge to argue. I don't know shit about law school, but it's plausible that Cs really are a failure.

  I have to trust Bella here.

  I have to take her at her word.

  I lean in to whisper. "Do you want to go back to school?"

  "You're actually asking?"

  "Yeah."

  She looks up at me with those pretty brown eyes. "You don't want to lecture me about how I'll be miserable?"

  "I got the point across."

  Her eyes go to the floor. "Did your mom give you shit?"

  "Yeah."

  "Good." She presses her lips together. "She seems nice, your mom."

  "She's the nicest person anyone's ever met." I move closer. "And I don't mean that as an insult the way people normally do."

  "I know." She looks up at me for a second. "I'm nice. People say that about me. They mean passive and boring."

  "Or maybe they're struggling for something to say to your face because they're talking about your tits behind your back."

  She lets out a sound that's half laugh, half sob. "That must be it." With her next breath, her eyes go back to the floor. She blinks back another tear. "Right now, you're the only person who knows."

  "Do you want to change that?"

  "I have to tell my dad soon. And other people, they'll ask why I left law school. I'm not sure which is worse, the truth or a lie that I dropped out to follow my husband around on tour."

  "You mean, you don't want to be my pet?"

  She shakes her head. "You… you wouldn't want that, would you?"

  "No. But I wouldn't mind it. If you wanted that, if you never wanted to work again, I'd take care of you."

  "You mean if we… if we stay married."

  "Hypothetically, yeah."

  She looks up at me. "It's hard caring about someone. They can really hurt you." Her brown eyes fill with frustration. "Joel, that stuff you said… how could you ambush me like that?"

  "I shouldn't have said that shit in front of my mom." I slide my arm around her shoulders. "I shouldn't have said that shit, period."

  She nods.

  "I'm sorry. I get out of my head when I see you doing shit that will make you miserable."

  "How did you know it would make me miserable?"

  "You get this expression when you bring it up. It's like… what are those things called, in Harry Potter, that eat your happiness?"

  "Dementors."

  "Like that."

  "Law school is like a soul-sucking dementor?"

  I nod.

  She looks at me like I'm crazy. But also like I'm right.

  Deep down, she knows she doesn't want to go back to law school.

  She must.

  Damn, all I want to do is wipe her pain away. I'm not good at this relationship thing. But I want to try. For her.

  I lean down and offer her my hand. "This will be more comfortable inside."

  "I'm not sure I'm ready to go inside yet."

  That's fair. I take her hands and pull her to her feet. "I do know you, Bella. Maybe not every inch of you, not yet, but I want to."

  She keeps her gaze on the floor. Her voice is still filled with uncertainty. "You don't mean…" Her eyes go to her ring. "We're getting a divorce in less than a week."

  "We could change our minds."

  She stares at me like I'm crazy.

  "Hypothetically."

  "We barely know each other."

  "We did it out of order, got married then got to know each other. So what?"

  She stares into my eyes. "You really want to stay married?"

  I run my fingers through her hair. "We have a few more days to get to one hundred percent certain."

  She laughs and rests her head against my chest. "I like you, Joel. But there's a lot of room between I like you and we should stay married." She bites her lip. "I don't know what I'll want later. But right now…" She looks up at me. Then her eyes flutter closed and her lips press into mine. She kisses me hard and deep.

  I kiss her back.

  Fuck, we need to be inside.

  And I need to be inside her.

  When our kiss breaks, I unlock the door and whisk her into the apartment.

  I pin her to the door.

  She looks up at me with all that trust.

  All that affection.

  I pull her glasses off her face and set them on the bookshelf.

  Her hands go to my hair. She brings my mouth to hers. She's soft and she tastes good and there's all this affection flowing between us.

  She sighs as our kiss breaks. "We fight a lot."

  "Because we call each other on our bullshit."

  She nods.

  "No one else does that to me."

  "Me either." Her fingers dig into my skin. "I think… even though it's only been a few days… I think you know me better than anyone does."

  "Yeah?"

  "I don't let my guard down with anyone." She slides her hand under my t-shirt and presses her palm against my stomach. "You either?"

  I nod.

  "Joel, I know you can't promise how you'll feel tomorrow. Or the next day. Or the day we're supposed to divorce." Her eyes bore into mine. "But, your mom… she had a tan line on her left ring finger."

  "You noticed that?"

  "I notice everything." She stares back at me expectantly.

  Fuck. I should tell her about this. Even if she'll get the wrong idea. "My parents just got divorced."

  "When did you find out?"

  "That morning."

  "Oh." She presses her back against the door. "I thought the timing would be, but that's fast—"

  I undo her bun and run my fingers through her hair. "It's not like that."

  "At all?"

  "Maybe somewhere in my subconscious I'm proving a point about marriage being forever, but that's not what's in my head. Bella, I really fucking like you." I cup the back of her head. There's too much space between us right now. I need to erase it. "What do you want, right now?"

  "I want to believe you."

  "Then?"

  "I don't know." She runs her fingers through my hair. "In the last week, my life has gone completely off track." She stares back into my eyes. "I want to feel the way you do when you play drums. I want to know I'm where I belong in the world."

  I nod.

  Her eyelids flutter closed.

  She rises onto her tiptoes.

  And she kisses me like the fucking ship is going down.

  It's fast.

  Messy.

  Perfect.

  She pulls my t-shirt over my head.

  Her hands rake over my bare torso. She looks up into my
eyes. "Make me believe you. Please."

  I nod and I kiss her back.

  She presses her palm against my hard-on, over my jeans. "Nothing in the way of us connecting."

  Fuck. That last bit of blood flees my brain.

  I let go of conscious thought.

  I do away with my jeans and boxers.

  She steps out of her panties and pulls her dress to her waist.

  Fuck, we're going bareback. There's nothing in the way of our flesh connecting.

  I drag my hand up her thighs and stroke her clit until she's groaning against my mouth.

  She's wet. Even so, I slip a finger inside her to warm her up. Then two. Three.

  She bucks her hips against my hand.

  Her nails dig into my skin.

  She blinks her eyes open and pulls back from our kiss. "Joel, please. I need you inside me."

  My breath gets heavy. "Say that again."

  "I need you." She tugs at my hair. "I need you inside me."

  I bring my hands to her hips.

  Slowly, I bring her body towards mine.

  My tip strains against her.

  Fuck.

  One inch at a time, I slide inside her.

  Damn, she feels good.

  And there's nothing in the way.

  That's my flesh against hers.

  The trust of this—

  The intimacy—

  Feelings fill my gut. Too many. I'm not good at this kind of thing.

  I really fucking care about her.

  I want the fucking world for her.

  I can't stand the thought of this ending.

  She groans into my mouth as I pump her with long, deep strokes. Her hands tug at my hair.

  My fingers dig into her skin.

  We stay locked together, groans bleeding together, tongues dancing together.

  Her legs are wrapped around my waist.

  My arms are wrapped around her chest.

  Our bodies are moving together.

  Then she's moving faster, nipping at my lips as she groans harder and deeper.

  I pull back enough to watch pleasure spread over her face. Her eyelids press together. Her teeth sink into her lip.

  Her nails rake across my back.

  "Fuck, Joel." She groans it again and again. Then she's blinking her eyes open, staring at me like she's staring into my soul.

  It's not like when Kit or Mal looks at me like this.

  With her, I really fucking like it.