Rock King

by Tara Leigh

  But this wasn’t the time or the place. We were surrounded by people and noise and chaos. Just as I was figuring out what to say, there was a shout from Landon. “Dude, you can play with your toy later. We’re on!”

  Toy. With my head turned in his shoulder, Shane didn’t see me flinch. And when he leaned in closer, his lips tickling my earlobe, to say, “Can’t wait to play later,” he probably thought I shivered with anticipation. But no. It was unease that vibrated along my spine. I didn’t want to be Shane’s “toy.” Or his “whore” or any of the other smears that had been tossed my way. As he ran onstage, my stomach twisted into knots.

  Loving him.

  Hating myself.

  Because my parents, both of them, had raised me to be more than a man’s accessory. Even if that man was Shane Hawthorne.

  I wanted to do something with my life, something useful.

  Shane’s jail cell epiphany had given him a focus, channeling his efforts into building his career so he could use his name and money to help those without the gift of his talent.

  Academia was calling to me. My life was calling. There was so much I wanted to learn, and I craved the validation that came with earning a degree. It was a stepping-stone to figuring out what I truly wanted to do with my life. And I wanted to find a way to forgive myself. Wanted to finally help my father. I just hoped Shane would choose to be a part of all of it.

  But first I had to figure out a way to come clean. Not just to Shane, but to the people who had put my father in jail for a crime he didn’t commit. Because otherwise, my secret was a bomb that would undoubtedly go off at the most inopportune time, destroying everything I was building with Shane. I needed to control the inevitable explosion.

  And to do it, I would have to distance myself from Shane. Protect him from the backlash.

  Maybe then he could forgive my deceit.

  More than fifty thousand screaming fans were packed into MetLife Stadium tonight. And every one of them would probably say they were in love with Shane Hawthorne. As he came into view, there was a roar that nearly lifted me off my feet.

  And Shane, he looked…happy. Beyond happy. Exultant.

  This was where he belonged. Center stage, belting out lyrics that resonated with everyone listening, adored by thousands. He needed their love, their recognition. Without it, he wouldn’t be Shane Hawthorne.

  Did he need me? Did he love me? Right now, at this moment, I had my doubts.

  I owe you.

  Those words scraped at my soul, leaving a stinging, jagged gash in their wake. I crossed my arms around my waist, holding myself tight. I wanted to remember this moment always. The sheer beauty that was Shane, using his God-given talent to electrify an entire arena, and loving every minute.

  I wanted to remember the hurt, too, because this might be the last time I had the chance. I could never truly be a part of this life, not if this was all there was.

  My mother had wanted to be an artist but had never pursued her dreams. Had she secretly resented my father for it? Had he felt guilty for letting her give up her passion?

  Resentment. Guilt. Such ugly emotions. If I didn’t take action now, they were bound to come between me and Shane eventually.

  I breathed deep, tasting the acrid smoke of the pyrotechnic effects on my tongue like dregs at the bottom of a coffee cup. I wanted to memorize everything—the flash of lights illuminating pockets of the crowd, the dancing, screaming fans that looked like algae churning in rough seas. The way the pulse of the music reverberated through the soles of my shoes. And always—Shane.

  Tonight I was wearing open-toed silver stilettos and a shimmery, pale shift that barely reached midthigh. It was dressier than I normally wore, but Piper had insisted that tonight’s victory concert was special and I should look the part. Her phrase resonated with me now, because that’s just how I felt. Like I was playing a part.

  I’d known exactly what I was getting into when I’d signed on to be Shane’s girlfriend. Well…maybe not exactly. I didn’t know I would fall so deeply in love with him, or that not knowing if he felt the same was like a malignant cancer stalking its way through my bones. I wasn’t acting anymore. This was real to me. I wasn’t an actress. I was a lovesick fool.

  I loved Shane, absolutely. But I couldn’t be his fool.

  What did he feel for me? Gratitude? Lust? Was that all?

  Happiness and misery were like twin tides, pulling at me from opposite directions.

  Shane came running offstage after his set, stopping just short of pulling me against his sweaty chest. “If I hug you now I’ll ruin your dress,” he said, frowning.

  “I don’t care.” I leaned forward, every pore straining for contact with him.

  His hands curled around my shoulders, keeping me at a distance. “No, baby. Not tonight.”

  Confusion twisted my brows. “Why not?”

  A roadie appeared at Shane’s side, holding a towel and a fresh shirt. Shane took off his sweat-soaked tee and rubbed himself off as I watched, traitorous heat throbbing between my thighs. He caught the naked want in my expression, grinning lewdly. “Trust me.” Putting on his fresh shirt, Shane gulped from a bottle of water, glancing around to see if the guys were ready to get back on.

  Landon met his eyes. “You sure you’re up for this?”

  A grin streaked across Shane’s face. “Just get your drumsticks ready, Landy.”

  “Don’t you worry. I’m pulling them out of my ass just for you, Shaney-baby,” Landon teased. There was a jagged edge to their banter tonight.

  Shane turned to face me as Landon strutted back onstage, performing a drum solo before Jett and Dax took their places, each of them reveling in their individual performances before coming together as a group for Shane’s entrance. “You’re going to stay right here. Don’t move, okay?”

  I would have laughed, but there was a seriousness to his instruction that quelled the impulse. “I’ll be right here. I promise.”

  He gave a tight smile, squeezing my shoulders. And then he was off, the crowd welcoming him like the second coming of Christ.

  This time he launched into a song I’d never heard before. And I knew instantly it had been written after our night on the beach together. The night I’d been convinced he was dead and had run to him out of fear. Fear that had morphed into something much different the second my hand touched his skin.

  That night that had ended with me alone in the bedroom he’d assigned me, a Band-Aid on my foot and a certainty somewhere deep inside my gut that it wouldn’t be the last time I’d be hurting because of Shane.

  Until tonight, I’d lulled myself into believing that if I loved Shane enough he would love me back.

  He wanted me, sure.

  Thought he needed me.

  Thought he owed me.

  But did he love me?

  The song ended, and I wiped at the tears streaming down my face with the back of my hand, knowing I was probably ruining the makeup that had been so expertly applied less than two hours ago. Not caring.

  Could that four-letter word be strong enough to withstand the bombshell I was about to drop?

  Shane turned his back to the crowd, looking at me as he lifted the microphone to his lips. “And now I want to introduce you to the person who’s responsible for me being here tonight. We started off in a very unconventional way, as I’m sure you all know.” Most of the crowd was with him, laughing on cue, although there were a few “dump her pick me” shouts scattered among them.

  “I started my career after the death of my best friend, Caleb Branford. He’s the one who should be with us tonight, holding this microphone.” There were no more shouts. Fifty thousand people were silent, mesmerized by Shane’s remarks. “But he can’t be here. Someone else is, though. Someone who taught me to face the truth head-on. To stop hiding behind lies, hiding behind people lying for me.”

  The enormous LED screen behind the stage came to life, with a new hashtag in bold, bright letters. #SayYesToShane.


  The crowd began chanting it. “Say yes to Shane. Say yes to Shane. Say yes to Shane.” It rippled through the arena like a hurricane gathering speed. I sucked in a quick breath, my lungs scorched from the overheated air.

  Landon started a low, almost ominous beat on his drums, and Shane looked at me again. “Come out here, Delaney.”

  There were catcalls and whistles and applause. And a few boos.

  My heart plummeted. I knew what was about to happen. What was happening. Everyone in the audience did, too.

  My eyes were as round as saucers, but my feet wouldn’t move. Until they did.

  In the wrong direction.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Shane

  Dread seeped into my pores as I turned away from the audience to seek out Delaney’s face. Something was wrong. Really wrong. I took a few steps toward her, thinking maybe the lights were distorting my view. But no. I froze, the emotions radiating from her face tearing through me like shrapnel. “Delaney?” I breathed, forgetting about the microphone in my hands until her name reverberated in my earpiece.

  Delaney’s eyes were wide as she shook her head. One hand flew to her mouth, flattening a palm against her lips as if holding back a scream.

  I blinked, and she was gone.

  Gone.

  Before I could ask her to marry me.

  Tearing my eyes from the empty space Delaney had occupied just seconds earlier, I shot a confused glance toward Landon. The LED screen went dark, hashtag fading. The disappointed crowd was already restless, and if I took off after Delaney like I wanted to, there was no telling what would happen. Landon launched into the opening riff of one of our most popular songs, the one we usually closed with. Good. I could sing it and then get the fuck offstage. My mind raced as the familiar lyrics skated smoothly through my lips, clutching the microphone so tightly my knuckles glowed white.

  Maybe Delaney would be back in my dressing room. Maybe asking her to be my wife in front of fifty thousand fans wasn’t the kind of proposal she wanted. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

  Small hopes that were as faint and thready as the sulfur tail of a match. After it’s been extinguished.

  Fear squeezed my chest, so tight I had to cut a few notes short.

  Maybe I should let her go.

  But why? Surely that black cloud hovering over my head was moving on, or at least had run out of rain. Everything I’d been so ashamed of was out in the open, and life still went on. Delaney knew me. Had seen the very worst parts of me, up close in all my scarred, ugly glory. And she hadn’t run.

  No. Delaney had planted her feet in front of me, wrapped her arms around me. And stayed.

  Why was Delaney running? And why now? When it looked like we might have a future—a real one—together.

  Somehow I managed to get through the song, then choked out a half-assed joke about going to find my stage-frightened girlfriend. I knew she wouldn’t be in my dressing room before I flung open the door, but even so, the sight of the empty room hit me like a kick to the head. The door slammed into the opposite wall and bounced back toward me, but by the time it clicked closed I was halfway down the corridor, confusion and betrayal stewing in my gut.

  “Shane, wait!”

  My heart leapt at the female voice, the unmistakable tap-tapping of heels on cement. But they didn’t belong to Delaney. “Where is she?” I asked Piper, my hands clenching and unclenching at my sides.

  “She took a car back to the hotel. I have the driver on the line. Do you want me to have him pull over?”

  I thought for a minute. I didn’t want Delaney to feel trapped, or spied on. “No. Let him take her back to the hotel. Just tell him to drive very, very slowly.” No way was I going to let her go. Not without a fight.

  Piper spoke into the phone at her ear and hurried to keep pace with me as I raced toward the exit door. “There’s a car waiting, right?”

  “Yes. We always keep a few on standby.” Although Piper had been assigned by Travis to keep tabs on Delaney and ensure she was always camera ready, she rarely came to our concerts. Tonight’s show was special though.

  It was supposed to be special.

  I nodded but didn’t say anything more until I pushed through the door and jumped into the car. There were nearly a hundred fans held back beyond ropes. They must not have had tickets, because anyone who had been in the arena couldn’t have gotten out here this fast. Normally I would have signed a few autographs and posed for selfies, but not tonight. I plastered a fake smile on my face, lifted my hand in a wave, and slid into the car before they could tell me how much they loved me. I wanted to hear those words, was desperate for them. But only if they came from Delaney’s mouth.

  There was an empty part of my soul that was lined with bitterness and self-hatred. The part I’d tried to fill with booze and drugs and meaningless sex. And when that hadn’t worked, I’d filled it with fake relationships I could control, women I pretended were with me because I was worthy of love. But they weren’t with me. They were with Shane Hawthorne, rock star. They wanted money and fame and exposure. But Delaney had never given a damn about any of those things. She saw me. She wanted me. She’d stayed with me when anyone else would have run for the hills.

  If nothing else, I needed to know why she was leaving me now. When I finally believed we might have a real chance.

  Piper scooted in beside me, and I stifled the brief flare of annoyance. My misery and frustration filled the car enough without another body sharing the space. But she’d been useful so far, and there was a chance I would need her again. Until she huffed out a sigh reeking with judgment. “Did you say something to Delaney? I mean, I made sure she was perfectly made-up and dressed once Travis told me what you were planning to do tonight. She seemed fine earlier, and she looked gorgeous. I don’t understand.”

  I turned pained eyes on Piper. “Of course I said something to her. I told Delaney how much she meant to me and how grateful I was to her for supporting me through the bullshit Greek tragedy that is my life.” I ran anguished hands through my hair, tugging at the ends. “You tell me, Piper…Where did I go wrong?”

  Piper’s mouth pursed, almost as if she was holding something back. “That’s something you’re going to have to figure out, Shane.” She hesitated, pressing her lips together.

  My patience was in shreds and I didn’t offer any. “Spit it out.”

  Hoisting one shoulder upward, Piper dipped her head toward it. “Maybe it’s what you didn’t say that made her leave.”

  I pushed my fingers beneath my thighs before I could wrap them around Piper’s neck and squeeze the life out of her. What the hell was she talking about? How could Delaney be upset about something I didn’t say? But before I could prod further, we pulled up to the entrance of the hotel. Without waiting for the driver to open my door, I flung it aside myself and bounded out.

  As I strode through the lobby, heads swiveled and called my name. I ignored them, aiming straight for the elevators, but there was nothing I could do about the gaggle of girls that came rushing up and followed me into the elevator car. For twenty-two flights I signed autographs and stared into cell phone cameras, not even attempting a smile, fake or otherwise. As I put the room card into the lock, I had to shake off a particularly aggressive pair intent on a threesome. “Not tonight,” I hissed, closing the door and bolting it shut.

  I knew instantly Delaney was there, could smell the delicious scent that wafted off her skin like pollen suspended on a summer’s breeze. My boots slapped the polished marble floor, announcing my presence well before I made it to the carpeted bedroom. Delaney’s black suitcase was open on the bed, clothes haphazardly tossed in its general direction. She stood a few feet away, clutching her toiletry bag to her chest like a security blanket.

  The look in her eyes slammed into me with such force I rocked back on my heels. They were a cerulean riot of confusion and pain. “Hey.” The word scraped through my throat, sounding harsher than I intended. I lifted my hands and wrapped my finger
s around the molding edging the doorframe, squeezing tight. “What’s going on?”

  A ripple of warning skidded along my spine as I waited for her answer. One beat passed, then two. Delaney pressed her lips together, her tongue fluttering between the crease, then disappearing. “Don’t, Shane,” she murmured, eyes shimmering. “Please, just don’t.”

  Delaney

  The mechanical sweep of the lock against the door made my heart skip a beat. A tiny sound and yet it reverberated through my bones like a sonic boom.

  It was too much to hope that I could have gotten away before Shane came looking for me. He must have left the arena as soon as possible without provoking a revolt by fifty thousand angry fans, because I’d been in the suite only a few minutes.

  I shouldn’t have fallen for him. Should have followed the rules of that stupid, stupid contract and left my heart out of the mix. But I had broken the rules and fallen in love. Hard.

  Not with the Shane Hawthorne I’d crushed on since I was a teenager, but the man behind the facade, stuck somewhere between Shane and Sean. And now my heart felt like it had been torn in two, stomped on by those rugged boots he wore everywhere.

  Shane’s bulk filled the doorframe. Energy radiated from every brawny inch, exuding confusion and anger. His wounded eyes cut me deep. I looked from his head to his boots, knowing I’d touched and kissed every inch of the man standing before me. And that in a few minutes I’d go back to seeing Shane only in magazines and on album covers.

  Hands straining to reach for him, I instead hugged my cosmetics bag tight to my chest, my heart thudding against a rib cage that felt as if it had shrunk overnight. Could I even put my emotions into words?

  There was a good chance I would be the one in jail in the not too distant future. I certainly deserved to be. Would Shane ever be able to trust me once I admitted what I’d done…and that I’d been lying about it to everyone? Even him. Especially him.