Rock King

by Tara Leigh

  “It means we don’t have to fake it. The whole, Shane Hawthorne’s new shiny toy. The contract you hated from the minute you read it. We don’t need it anymore. We’re real now.”

  An eager kind of hopefulness expanded in my lungs, like helium blown into a balloon, making me feel light and buoyant. A high-pitched laugh overflowed from my mouth. “Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”

  Shane gave a slight shake of his head, his mouth set into a sober line. “No.”

  His single-word answer was as effective as a sharp pin.

  “I’m not asking. You’re my girl. Period.”

  Shane

  I was at the top of my career, but my personal life revolved around looking good in public.

  Taking a chance on Delaney, on a real relationship…It could cost me everything.

  But I didn’t have a choice.

  Fighting to hold on to something is a hell of a lot different from clawing your way to the top. I didn’t know what I was missing until Delaney came into my life. Sex with her was just the beginning. A fucking fantastic beginning…but I wanted more. So much more. And I wanted her to want it, too.

  My girl.

  Brushing wayward strands of hair from her face, I touched my lips to the center of her forehead, the tip of her nose, lingering over her mouth. Giving, taking, tasting.

  When I pulled away, her brow was smooth, her eyes clear. Her shy smile yanking at my heart. “I can be your girl. But…I gave up my job for this.”

  I followed her line of thinking. “I know. You packed up your entire life to come on the road with me. But even though my services are pretty damn phenomenal”—I gave an exaggerated roll of my hips, loving the laugh that tripped from Delaney’s lips and grateful that she saw the humor in this ridiculous situation—“I’m not trying to skimp out on monetary compensation for your time.”

  Her full breasts pushed against my chest. “Real relationships are messy, Shane. And both of us have avoided them because, let’s face it, our lives are messy enough. Having a contract, a defined set of expectations—maybe we need that.”

  What she said was true, yet I still shrugged my shoulders. This might be the dumbest thing I’d ever done, opening myself up, exposing what was underneath my rock-star veneer. But it might turn out to be the best. I roughed a hand through her sex-mussed mane. “Maybe I like things a little messy.”

  She eyed me cautiously, and I wondered if Delaney could hear the forced bravado in my voice. “So you want to throw away the rulebook you and Travis came up with? The one you’ve followed ever since he got you out of jail, the one that helped you turn your life around?”

  I took a shaky breath, trying to see things from her side. If Delaney decided to get up and walk away, I wouldn’t have blamed her one bit. I was all over the place. First I wanted to hire her. Then I wanted to fuck her. Then I didn’t. Then I wanted to, and did. And now I wanted to blur all our carefully constructed lines. It was a lot to absorb, and I sounded like a flighty kid with one buck to spend at the candy store.

  Blood pulsed, hot and heavy, within my veins. “I’m not that same broken guy anymore. Wounded maybe, but not broken. Not anymore.”

  Lowering my chin to rest atop her head, I felt pulled in two different directions. I cared for Delaney more than I ever thought possible, and yet letting go of the safety net I’d constructed was terrifying. A relationship without predefined expectations could lead to chaos. Growing up, I never knew who to trust, who was safe. But now I was the grown-up, and it was time for me to act like it.

  I’d avoided this kind of uncertainty for the past decade. And yet here I was, throwing away everything that made me feel in control and begging Delaney to get on the ride with me.

  No seat belt. No destination. No plan.

  At Delaney’s arched eyebrow, I relented. “Fine. If a few pieces of paper will keep you by my side for the next six months, I’m all for it. But as far as I’m concerned, it’s in name only. Written assurance that you’ll get everything you were promised, because I don’t want you worrying about a job for the next six months. Maybe I’m being a selfish asshole, but I still need you by my side. And besides,” I teased, “I think I’ve grown on you. Maybe you need me, too.”

  She shoved at my chest, a sideways smile pulling at her mouth. “Sure, you keep telling yourself that.”

  Fear and hope clogged my lungs as I rolled onto my back, pulling Delaney with me. “Not many sure things in life, at least not in mine.”

  She settled onto my shoulder, her hair sweeping across my neck like a mink stole. “From the outside, your life looks pretty perfect.”

  My voice softened, tinged with regret. “You make it feel that way. But not long ago it seemed pretty damn empty.”

  Delaney looked up at me, empathy etched into her face. “Do you have any family? Anyone who loves the real Shane Hawthorne, not the fantasy you project to the world?”

  I grunted. How could I explain? Shane Hawthorne wasn’t real, and the guy living in his skin wasn’t someone she’d want to know. “I do, but I don’t want to think about my family, not right now.”

  A seed had been planted though, and I felt the slow burn of anger coiling around my heart. My parents were both dead, but I did have a brother. Except he’d given up the right to be called family a long time ago. My mind started down the rutted path that only led to a dead end. No. There would be no walks down memory lane tonight.

  The best way to prevent the pointless journey was lying in my arms. Closing my eyes, I let myself sink into Delaney’s sweetness, absorb all the good I felt within her arms. I needed every last bit.

  * * *

  Sipping at a steaming cup of coffee from thirty thousand feet, I stared out the window at the rippling white blanket of clouds stretching as far as I could see. When I was a kid, I imagined heaven would be spent jumping around these clouds as if they were a playground, a guitar slung over my shoulder and an ice-cream cone in my hand.

  I was nearly twenty by the time I boarded a plane for the first time, and it had been a shock to see just clouds and nothing else. No bearded man in a white robe. No angels, no happy cherubs. Just clouds and sunshine.

  Emptiness.

  Peace.

  Right now I felt anything but peaceful.

  Two hours ago, I had slipped out of bed while Delaney was still asleep. Tired after a long night of very little sleep, she’d barely stirred when I dropped a quick kiss on her cheek, leaving a note on my pillow.

  This trip was a spur-of-the-moment decision. One I never thought I would make.

  What the hell was Delaney Fraser doing to me?

  Oh, I knew why she made my pants feel two sizes too small. That was easy. More than any drug, Delaney was the highest high.

  Standing just out of bounds, she tempted me. And last night, I hadn’t stayed behind the line.

  I’d crossed it.

  And here I was, flying across the country, about to cross another one.

  I would be landing in New York City in a few hours, one of my favorite places in the world. Madison Square Garden. Barclays Center. I loved the New York venues nearly as much as New York fans.

  Gavin, my brother, lived in New York, too. He had moved right after graduating high school, never looked back. Now he was a criminal lawyer, one of the best in the country

  The last time I saw Gavin was on my sixteenth birthday. The accident happened a few months afterward. A nurse at the hospital told me she’d gotten in touch with him, but he never showed, not that day and not by the time I left town a couple days later.

  I didn’t just leave.

  I ran.

  Pretending that I hadn’t lost everything I cared about in the blink of an eye. Filling myself with drinks and drugs, fucking any girl with a pulse. Getting lost in music.

  My life was different now. I was different now. My drinking was under control. I didn’t do drugs. And while I still loved making music, these days I only felt lost in Delaney’s eyes. I would do anything for
her. Including reaching out to the one person from my past whose absence still felt like a gaping wound.

  Travis would get Delaney’s father moved to a better prison.

  But I wanted to do more. I wanted to set him free.

  And Gavin could make that happen.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Delaney

  The next morning I studied my body in the mirror, expecting to see Shane’s handprints covering the surface of my skin. Not because he’d hurt me, but because his touch had burned into me. All night, everywhere. My muscles were deliciously sore, and it seemed strange not to see evidence of our coupling, like stamps on a passport. I caught a few darkened smudges, but only in places where he’d squeezed me tightly. If Shane’s skin weren’t so tanned, I’m sure I would have marked him, too.

  Not that he wasn’t marked enough already. Shane’s journey was etched on his skin, in vivid colors and deep, dark black. His tattoos were beautiful, and disquieting. They told a story he hadn’t yet painted with words. I wanted to know every detail, but I’d been distracted by the electric current sparking at every point of contact. So much heat, so much intensity. His fire fueling mine, and vice versa.

  Last night Shane had looked at me with raw need, his desire propped up by desolation, vulnerability shining from every pore. As if he expected to be turned down. But why?

  Shane Hawthorne was gorgeous and successful, an idol to so many. And yet it was obvious he’d been hurt by those closest to him, was still hurting.

  I was falling for Shane, every minute with him another chance to break my heart.

  And yet with every fiber of my being, I wanted to heal his.

  So I’d agreed to a contract in name only, weakening the rigid set of rules Shane had imposed on his life. What would being Shane’s girlfriend, for real, feel like? I had no idea. And I wasn’t going to find out today, either.

  This morning I’d woken up to a note on my pillow encouraging me to spend the day relaxing, that he would be back tonight. It was signed, XO, me.

  I traced the letters with my fingernail now. Kiss. Hug. Shane.

  What if last night had been too intense? If he regretted letting me stay, or deciding we were more than a convenient arrangement?

  What if he regretted everything?

  Deep in the night, his voice thick with passion, Shane had drawn me close, his cheek flattening my hair, breath hot on my ear. “Do you know what you do to me?” he’d whispered.

  No, I didn’t. Although maybe it felt something like what he was doing to me. Driving me half crazed with lust and fear.

  Lust was self-explanatory. Shane was an international sex symbol.

  But my fear stemmed from wanting too much. Scared of being slapped down by disappointment. Swept away by loss. Again.

  Did I have any instinct for self-preservation at all? Obviously not.

  Because all my instincts had jumped up and leapt on Shane.

  Who was he exactly?

  Every time I thought I had him figured out, he showed me another side, unveiled a new piece I hadn’t even guessed at.

  Shane was like a thousand-piece puzzle bought at a garage sale. The chances of all the pieces being in the box were slim to none, and even if I slowly and laboriously fit the jigsaw together, I had no idea if the pieces would eventually form the picture on the cover, something else entirely, or if they were just a bunch of mismatched segments I couldn’t figure out no matter how hard I tried. And yet giving up was unthinkable.

  Oddly enough, so much of what I had discovered, reminded me of…me.

  I couldn’t quite tell if that made me understand Shane more.

  Or myself less.

  I didn’t come to L.A. to find myself, like I’d heard so many other people say. What did that mean—finding yourself? I knew who I was. Or at least I had, three years ago.

  No. I came to L.A. to lose myself. To forget who I was, what I wanted, what I believed in.

  In this crazy town I’d been just another waitress. It was the perfect job title. Because I’d been waiting for my life to begin again.

  And then Piper recognized me, introduced me to Travis, and I met Shane Hawthorne.

  Last night hadn’t been about waiting.

  It was about finding.

  Not myself. Not even Shane. But finding something to believe in again.

  And it felt good. Really good.

  Shane

  A baseball cap pulled low over my face, I lurked in the elegant lobby of an Upper East Side apartment building, bribing the doorman who’d been none too thrilled by the presence of a tattooed stranger in ripped jeans and a leather motorcycle jacket sprawled across his couch. The older man’s uniform was perfectly pressed, shoes shined, gray hair buzzed close to his skull. Definitely not a Nothing but Trouble fan.

  After nearly two hours, I finally spotted a face that was as familiar to me as my own, despite not having seen it in more than a decade. “Gavin.” I called out my brother’s name, the syllables skating through my clenched jaw.

  He jerked to a stop on the polished marble floor and swiveled toward me, recognition spreading across his face.

  Unfolding myself from the uncomfortable upholstery, I stood. “I probably should have called first.”

  “I didn’t realize you had my number, Sean.” His voice was flat, even.

  I swallowed past the lump in my throat. No one had called me that in years. “It’s pretty easy to find someone these days. If you make any effort at all.”

  Gavin ignored the not-so-subtle barb. “Do you want to come up?” He spoke slowly, keeping his hands at his sides, as if he was afraid any loud noise or sudden movement would scare me away.

  I hesitated, then shook my head. “No.”

  “So…” Gavin drew the word out, looking at me expectantly. “What can I do for you?”

  A hint of the recalcitrant younger brother I’d once been resurfaced, my attitude a mix of sheepish and surly. “What makes you think I’m here because I want something from you?”

  He gestured to the bank of elevators, the reception desk. “If all you’re after is a reunion, we don’t need to have it in public.”

  My nerves were as shredded the tattered jeans I was wearing. Just spit it out. “I’d like to hire you.”

  Gavin blinked several times in rapid succession, as if he was trying to make sense of my explanation. “You could have called me for that. Or come to my office.”

  I shot a grin at my brother. “The press would have a field day. Shane Hawthorne hires top criminal defense attorney.” A quick flare of pride streaked across Gavin’s face. Good. He should be proud. Gavin had always been the smart one in our family. Years ago I’d put a Google Alert on his name, and my in-box was regularly cluttered with links to articles about cases he’d won, honors he’d been awarded. He’d done it all without running away, without lying about his real name. Gavin may have given up on me, but I had never stopped looking up to my older brother.

  “Fair point. Okay, consider me hired. Why don’t you come up to my apartment? We can discuss your case—”

  “No. It’s not for me. It’s for a friend of mine. The father of a friend of mine. Will you still take the case?”

  A deep furrow gathered between Gavin’s brows. “You’re not connected at all?”

  Someone came through the revolving door, and a rush of cool air pushed my hair in front of my eyes. I swiped it away. “To the case, no. Just the girl.”

  Gavin lowered his briefcase, his eyes searching mine. “She’s important to you?”

  “Yes. Very.” My answer was immediate, automatic.

  I didn’t breathe until he answered. “Okay. E-mail me the details and I’ll make it my top priority.” He handed me his business card.

  The way Gavin said the words, with a confident sincerity, reaffirmed my decision to come here. “Thanks, Gav.”

  His expression softened at the nickname I tossed out so instinctively. “You think we can catch up one of these days? Been a long time.”
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  “Sure. We can do that.”

  Silence rippled between us, churning with unsaid accusations and unmet expectations. My brother offered a skeptical nod. “How about now?”

  Now? No. Too soon. “I have a show in L.A. tomorrow. I’m heading back to the airport now.”

  “Oh, all right.” Gavin bent to pick up his briefcase, but not before I saw a disappointed crease slash across his forehead.

  I took a step toward the door, thought better of it. “Actually, the jet’s chartered, so I can stay for a while. You know, if you’re free.” Curling my hands into the pockets of my dark jeans, I rocked back on my heels, holding my breath.

  Gavin’s familiar smile warmed me from the inside. He waved his hand in the direction of the elevator. “After you.”

  A few minutes later, I collapsed into the nearest chair in Gavin’s spacious living room and glanced around his apartment. “Nice place. You’ve come a long way, huh?”

  He lifted a sardonic brow. “Not quite as far as you.”

  Winning this particular competition was cold comfort. Alone with my brother for the first time in years, I wasted no more time. “You left me.” My voice was ragged with emotion and hurt.

  Gavin winced, as if my accusation hit him like a sucker punch to the kidneys. “I had to. I couldn’t stay there, not even for you. Not all of us are born with talent like yours, knowing it’s only a matter of time before you hit it big. If I wanted to get anywhere in life, I needed to leave home.”

  I snorted. My success had been far from guaranteed. I could just as easily be singing on a corner for spare change as selling out stadiums. “So that’s what you’ve been telling yourself all these years?”

  Gavin reared back, incredulous. “Jesus Christ, Shane. You were almost a teenager by the time I took off. Dad was barely around by then, and even when he was, you knew as well as I did how to avoid him.”

  My jaw dropped. “You think I care about our piece-of-shit father? What gets me is that you knew about the accident. You were my next of kin; I gave the hospital your number before they released me. And you never showed.”