Rock Me (Jaded Ivory Book 1)

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Rock Me (Jaded Ivory Book 1) Page 1

by Rebecca Brooke




  Rock Me

  rebecca brooke

  Copyright © 2017 by Rebecca Brooke

  Cover Design by Marisa-rose Shor of Cover Me Darling

  Editing by Ryn Hughes of Delphi Rose

  Proofreading by Judy Proofreading

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used factitiously, and any resemblance to any actual person, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owner.

  All rights reserved.

  DEDICATION

  She stood in the storm, and when the wind did not blow her away, she adjusted her sails.

  ~ Elizabeth Edwards

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Other Books

  About the Author

  CHAPTER 1

  Mari

  “Ready?”

  I glanced over at Sawyer. My stomach rolled and my heart pounded in my chest, and for a brief moment, I thought I might vomit. “Not really. I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”

  Voices echoed from the next room over. Forget butterflies, my stomach might as well have been a ship in the middle of an ocean during a hurricane. Sawyer, on the other hand, twirled the drumstick in his hand like this was just another night in his garage.

  “You can do this. You’ve got an amazing voice. I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t think you could do it.”

  I swallowed hard as the sounds grew louder. My eyes shot to the door. “It’s a one-time thing, right? When Jackson gets his voice back, he’ll sing again.”

  Sawyer rolled his eyes and draped his arm over my shoulders. At over six foot, the top of my head came right to his shoulder and that was in heels. “I swear, Mari, for someone who sings on stage three or four times a year—with your own solos I might add—you have the worst stage fright.”

  “This is not our college choir. You’ve done this before.”

  He turned me to face him, his gray gaze gleaming under the fluorescent lights. “So have you. It’s just different music.”

  A hand clasped around my arm. I peeked over my shoulder to see Heath; Jackson stood to his right. Jackson was the lead singer for Jaded Ivory, but lost his voice over the weekend.

  “Thank you for doing this.” Jackson’s voice was so soft I could barely hear him.

  “He’s right.” Heath ran a hand through his shoulder-length black hair. “We couldn’t really afford to give up this gig.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  There was a slight tremor to my own voice but hopefully they hadn’t noticed. They’d been trying to book this gig for months. Sawyer’s friend Brandon pulled some strings and got them in. If they canceled, they would never get another shot. This was their chance to get their foot in the door; into bigger, better venues.

  Sawyer chuckled. “Mari’s a little nervous.”

  Heath glanced over at me. “Why would you be nervous?”

  I shrugged, going for nonchalance. Sawyer, the bastard, saw right through it.

  The moment I walked into Freshman Seminar and took the seat next to him, I started the chain of events that led me here: backstage, about to sing with his band. Both music majors, it didn’t matter that I was vocal while he was instrumental. He decided that we would be friends, and that’s what we became.

  Sawyer found me that day. The real me. The one I’d hidden down deep to protect.

  Anything he wanted, I would do.

  I owed him.

  Which left me standing here, at a club, about to sing for the first time with a band. I’d been to all the practices, knew the songs, but I could not shake the rolling nausea because the only other time I’d ever performed on a stage with an audience was when the lights were so bright I couldn’t see the people watching me. See them judging me.

  “She’s nervous because she’ll be able to see the audience.”

  I elbowed Sawyer, needing him to shut the hell up.

  “Really?” Monty stepped into the room, the light bouncing off the silver ring in his bottom lip. There always seemed to be more gel in his hair for a show, the spikes looking strong enough to hold the weight of a guitar. “That’s the best part. Nothing gears me up more than a cheering crowd.”

  The gleam in Monty’s eyes brought out a little of my own excitement. The same rush I got before one of my solos.

  “Sawyer, you guys ready?”

  I turned and had to crane my neck to see the guy. His long blond hair was pulled into a loose ponytail at his nape, drawing my attention to the way his shoulders stretched the T-shirt across his chest. A small voice in the back of my head screamed Oh, hell no. Are you crazy? With a huge amount of effort, I pasted on a smile. Sawyer glanced at me and smirked.

  “I think we are, Brandon.”

  Brandon gestured toward the stage door, if you could even call it that. A wooden door that separated the hallway with the bathrooms from the bar and dance floor didn’t exactly scream professional stage. But it was what it was, and that was good enough.

  Heath and Jackson followed Brandon out. My eyes darted to a darkened corner and I thought about hiding in the hallway. By the time anyone noticed it would be too late to pull out and they’d have to play on without me. They might be mad, sure, but by that time everyone in the audience would have heard how great they were and it might not matter so much.

  A warm hand landed on the small of my back.

  “You can do this, baby girl,” Sawyer whispered in my ear.

  Sucking in breath after breath, his dark eyes on mine, I nodded.

  Time was up. I had to keep my promise.

  I let Sawyer lead me down the hall and onto the stage in a daze, the short walk giving me one last chance to calm my racing heart. The guys took their places on stage, instruments in hand, and I gave my hands a quick shake, stepping out of the shadows but still lingering on the edge of the stage. Sawyer shook his head at me, his shaggy chestnut hair falling into his eyes.

  What is that all about?

  Brandon stepped on stage, taking the microphone set up at center stage. “Hello, Mosley’s. Tonight we have Jaded Ivory for you, with a special vocal performance from Mari.

  Fuck.

  I’m going to kill him.

  Sitting behind his drums, using them like a shield, Sawyer’s smile was so bright
it reflected the lights on the stage. With trembling hands, I made my way to center stage to deafening cheers. Butterflies assaulted my stomach. There were people everywhere, screaming and jumping as I took my place on stage. Heat burned my face, but I forced a smile and prayed, not for the first time, that I didn’t forget the words.

  The beat of the drum started, followed closely by the guitar, keyboard, and bass, leaving me no choice but to join in.

  Sweat beaded along my brow as I sang the opening song, my sounding more confident than I expected. Then another. And another. With each song, I felt my confidence growing, the tension in my muscles draining. The cheers of the crowd weren’t a bad ego boost, either. By the time we’d played our set, my cheeks ached from smiling so much, but my heart was full, every nerve ending in my body was alive, and I was panting as if I’d run a marathon.

  We took our bows before exiting the stage. The second I stepped into the hall, many warm, strong arms engulfed me.

  “Fucking amazing.”

  “Why haven’t you sung with us before?”

  “Told you so.”

  “Holy hell, that rocked.”

  They all spoke at once, making it hard to distinguish between them. Then again, I didn’t need to hear Sawyer to know his comment was the “Told you so.” If he had his way, I’d never hear the end of it. He’d never let me live down being nervous before we went on. The chant of the audience seemed to get louder with each passing second.

  “Umm . . . guys?”

  We all turned to look at Brandon. With his brow pulled down but a huge smile on his face, he threw a thumb over his shoulder. “They’re screaming for an encore out there.”

  Monty froze. “An encore?”

  The question in his voice surprised me, as did the giddy way the rest of the guys slapped each other on the back and traded high fives.

  “Don’t encores happen all the time?” At least every concert I’d been to had one.

  “Maybe if you’re Mumford and Sons, but not usually for small bands like us, playing in a bar.” Sawyer wrapped an arm around my head and pulled me down, rubbing his knuckles over my head. I squealed and pulled back, my hands pawing at my hair, which was sticking out at all angles.

  “Listen.” Brandon stepped to the door and cracked it.

  “Mari! Mari! Mari!”

  My whole body turned to ice. The guys stared at me, mouths agape.

  “They . . . umm . . . They can’t—” My eyes darted around the room. I took rapid steps backward, my heart thundering in my chest, the adrenaline rush of before leaking from me, draining my newfound confidence as quickly as water from a bathtub.

  Sawyer eyed me warily. “Mari?” He reached his hands out to take my shaking ones in his arms, the strong muscles of his biceps holding me tight. “You need to breathe.”

  “I’ve . . . I’ve never . . .”

  I shook my head, the words dying on my tongue. My face buried into his chest. There had been praise for my performances before, but most had been a calm, reserved round of applause. Chanting was something else entirely.

  Sawyer’s hands wrapped around my biceps and he held me at arm’s length and bent down enough to catch my gaze. He flicked his head to the side, moving his hair back from his face. The gesture was so familiar, so comforting, it settled me enough to listen. “We need to go back out there. And you need to sing your heart out.” His voice dropped low. “I need you to pull it together, Keys.”

  That nickname.

  The one I’d gotten from Sawyer the first time he heard me play the piano. I owed it to him to go back out there. This was an important night for them.

  I forced my shoulders to relax and although the stiff set of my back remained, a whisper in the back of my mind told me that this wouldn’t be the last time I stepped on stage with Jaded Ivory.

  Holding my head high, I nodded at Sawyer. Stepping out of his grasp, I rolled my shoulders back and walked around him to the stage door. With a quick glance over my shoulder, I gave him a wink and stepped out onto the stage, the roar from the crowd making me wince. I walked back to center stage, knowing the rest of the band wouldn’t be far behind. As the crowd whistled and whooped, their voices combining into one loud chant, I decided to play it up. I took the microphone in hand and smiled.

  “Hello, Mosley’s. Thanks for having me back.”

  * * *

  A light rapping on the door startled me out of the memory.

  “Keys, open this door.”

  I rolled my eyes. As the only girl in Jaded Ivory, most of the time I changed in the bathroom. I didn’t get much privacy, but what little I could find I grabbed with both hands. This place was big enough to have a separate room just for me. It couldn’t have been any larger than a broom closet, but it smelled a lot better than some of my previous “changing rooms.”

  For the last year or so we’d played venue after venue, each one bigger than the last. Each night, our audience grew. Over time, my nerves settled. Getting on the stage, hearing the audience call my name, got easier each time. Somehow, we’d become popular enough for a small record label to seek us out. Just the thought of a contract made butterflies take off in my stomach. The guy from the label contacted Sawyer last week about upcoming gigs. We’d gotten confirmation yesterday he’d be here tonight.

  When I opened the door, Sawyer had his hand raised ready to knock again. A smile played at the corner of his lips as his gaze raked down my body.

  “Sexy.” He stepped around me into the room, the ever-present drumsticks sticking out of his back pocket. He wandered around the room looking everywhere but at me. I watched him for a moment, leaning back against the doorjamb. When he didn’t take a seat or turn to face me, I snapped my fingers.

  “What’s with the pacing? If you’ve got something to say, say it.”

  With a flinch, he stopped moving and leaned on the small table pushed up against the wall. He pulled one of the sticks from his pocket and twirled it through his fingers. I didn’t think he was even conscious of the fact he was doing it.

  “Well?”

  He moved his eyes from the floor to mine. “I wanted to make sure you’re ready for tonight.”

  “Why wouldn’t I be? It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve been on stage with you guys.” What was supposed to be a one-time thing had turned into something permanent after that first night.

  “Yeah, but remember”—he pointed the stick in my direction—“I know you better than anyone. And when it comes to putting yourself out there, you tend to panic.”

  I shrugged, doing my best not to think about his words or I might just do exactly as he said and start to panic. “And?”

  One of his brows rose. “And? Singing for a small label isn’t a big deal?”

  I ran a hand through my short blond locks. “It is, but I’m trying not to think about it that way. It’s just a regular show.”

  He smirked. “That working for you?”

  I sighed and turned to face him. “No. It made me think of the first time I sang with you guys.”

  He laughed. “Have to say, I never thought we’d end up here.”

  “So much has changed in the last year.” I traced a finger over the birds tattooed on my left shoulder, each one representing a moment when I’d pushed myself to be more than I thought I could. After tonight, I’d add another to the collection.

  His eyes moved to my hand on my shoulder. “Yeah, it has. I’m glad you took the journey with me.”

  The sincerity and love that radiated from him brought me forward and into his arms. He banded them tightly around me, pressing a soft kiss to the top of my head. “You can do this. They’re going to love you.”

  “Us,” I corrected. “They are going to love us.”

  His chest rumbled beneath my ear. “You’re right, they’re going to love us.” Another moment of silence passed, then Sawyer spoke again. “This could be huge. Life changing.”

  “I’m ready for whatever awaits us on the other side of that stage.


  He tipped my chin up with his finger. “You are so much stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

  His image blurred before me. “I’m trying.”

  Swiping at my cheek with his thumb, he brushed away a tear that escaped. “Five minutes. We’ll be waiting for you.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  I turned to look at the small mirror I’d set up on the table and marveled at the woman who stared back at me. She was completely unlike the girl who’d left home at eighteen. The short, messy bob couldn’t have been more of a contrast to the long straight locks she’d arrived with four years ago. No longer were her eyes sunken. Gone were the dark circles under them, the only black near them being the dark rim of eyeliner that accentuated the shape of her eyes. My eyes ran over the tattoos; the piercing through her brow. If I hadn’t been that girl, I’d never believe it was the same person.

  After years of lectures from Sawyer and our friends, I finally loved the woman I saw in the mirror and I wouldn’t let anyone make me believe any different. The time had come to throw it all on the line.

  Rolling my shoulders, I stepped out of the room and saw the guys waiting for me at the end of the hall. As was our own little ritual, they each pulled me in for a tight hug, then left to take their place on stage. Nothing had changed since that first night. They still made me wait to be introduced before taking the stage.

  The owner of the place stood in front of the microphone. “Tonight, we have a special guest for you: Jaded Ivory.”

  I stepped out on stage and the chanting began. “Mari. Mari. Mari.”

  After a few seconds, I took the microphone in one hand and raised the other.

  “Fuck yeah, Island Lounge. You guys are awesome. Just for that welcome, we’re gonna have some fun tonight, right?”

  Cheers filled the room.

  Sawyer tapped us in. The time had come for me to do what I did best.

  A lot had changed since that first night.

  CHAPTER 2

  Cole

  “You cannot sit in this apartment all night.” Ryan kicked my legs which were resting comfortably on the coffee table.

 

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