Till There Was You: Rock Star Enemies To Lovers Romance

by Elizabeth Grey

  She gave the pup a final pat.

  Maybe someday.

  When they left the shelter at 9:30, the sun had fully come out from behind the clouds. They settled back in the van. Amy didn’t immediately turn the key. She looked over at Ronan.

  “Hungry?” he asked.

  Amy’s stomach gurgled.

  “I can grab a snack when we get back to the bus.”

  “Man, don’t you want something that doesn’t come in a throwaway box?” He raised his eyebrows. “Why don’t we find a diner and get breakfast or something?”

  Amy’s first reaction was to act like that hungry pup. Instead, she slid the pair of sunglasses she had on down her nose.

  “Because you’re a famous rock star who can’t go places without fans wanting to take a picture with you.” She smirked.

  “That’s only when they’re expecting to see a rock star.” He shook his head. “I put a ball cap and a college sweatshirt on? I could be anybody.”

  Amy heard the longing in his voice. It was literally her job to help him move through different public spaces. It… wasn’t impossible.

  “Where, pray tell, would you find said sweatshirt and baseball cap?”

  He held up the bag he had brought with him. She narrowed her eyes at him. “Done this before?”

  “Maybe.” He was smart enough to look bashful. She couldn’t find it in herself to be mad for long. Part of her wanted to spend more time with this Ronan, away from the flash and shine of the tour bus. “Alright, fine. Find a diner. I’m still calling ahead.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He gave her a fake salute as he buckled his seatbelt.

  They found themselves seated across from one another in a quiet Greek diner. He kept his baseball cap on and added a pair of sunglasses for good measure. She watched for anyone peering over their menus or sending furtive glances their way. The diner was pretty quiet. They could be in the clear.

  The waitress came over and took their orders. She got black coffee, pancakes, bacon, and eggs. She shot him an incredulous look when he ordered a burger and fries.

  “What?” He looked around.

  “It’s not even 10 AM.” She lowered her voice.

  “You know how people love breakfast for dinner?” He shot her a trademark Ronan Cash smile. “I’m a bigger fan of dinner for breakfast.”

  She would not be charmed by him. She would not.

  “The man behind the guitar,” she murmured to herself, shooting him a half-smile. “Who would’ve known he was such a monster?” “Now you have to tell me one thing about yourself to even the playing field.” He arched an eyebrow.

  “I’m not sure I have something that can match that.” She took a deep breath.

  “Come on, I can keep a secret.” He grinned.

  Her phone vibrated in her pocket.

  “Oh shit, hold on.” Sarah’s name appeared on the Caller ID and Amy answered. “Hey, Sarah.”

  “You and Ronan off playing hooky?” Sarah teased.

  She could only laugh. Something told her there was no fooling Sarah. “The guys ready for us?”

  “Yeah, they got the rig up sooner than expected. Buuuuut,” she dragged out the word. “You don’t have to rush back.”

  She watched Ronan organize different flavors of jam into a mini tower. If she stayed around this version of Ronan any longer, she might get a full-blown crush on him. Better to return to the world they knew.

  “You’re a bad influence. See you soon.”

  Ronan looked expectantly at her when she hung up the phone.

  “We’re gonna need our orders to go.” Amy waved at the waitress before turning back to Ronan. “Looks like you get to be a rock star earlier than expected today.”

  Ronan narrowed his eyes at her, like he had her number but didn’t want to call her out.

  “I’m gonna get you to crack, Sinclair. Just you wait.” His eyes dropped to her mouth.

  That one sentence was so full of promise. It was like he had plucked a string right in her core.

  That promise lingered in her body on the drive back to the venue. All throughout rehearsal, she replayed that moment at the dog shelter when they almost kissed. All night, everytime he looked her way, she could swear a smile was just about to break across his face.

  Chapter 10

  Ronan

  Another day, another city.

  Ronan had stopped keeping track of his tour schedules long ago. It made it easier not to feel like a hamster on a wheel.

  The sun was already burning bright when he stepped off the bus. A wave of heat greeted him immediately. He double checked his phone. Right: New Orleans. Already, his shirt stuck to his back.

  He stared up at the Super Dome. Tonight, the arena would be packed with people, all there to see him. It still hit him sometimes, how far he had come after Di had died. She would never be able to see any of this success. When the lights came up on him, he paused and wondered, Would Di be proud?

  The roadies that came off the bus groaned at the heat. Ronan would have to deal with the heat tonight. But they had the harder job, at least in the immediate: They were the ones that had to heave amps and rigs without air conditioning. If he wanted, he could lounge in the air conditioning for the next few hours.

  Sinclair came out just behind them. Ronan felt his breath catch. Her hair was up, showing off the slope of her neck and shoulders, with the tiniest straps holding up a tank top. She wore a pair of shredded black jean shorts that showed a flash of color on her upper thigh. Holy shit, Sinclair had tattoos?

  He watched her chat with the crew. He felt like an idiot. How had he worked alongside her every day for a month and not noticed what a knockout she was? She wasn’t a typical LA girl: she kept her hair darker instead of the typical blonde. Instead of the boho vibe he seemed unable to escape, her edge was harder.

  He was into it.

  He wanted to explore more of her. Sitting across from her in that diner had felt… nice. And he hadn’t felt nice in a long, long time. Did he want to see if she would melt under his touch? No question. But sleeping with someone on tour was borrowing trouble.

  He watched as she bent over to grab one of the amps. The muscles in her back and arms tensed and bunched. Her shorts rode even higher, revealing taut legs and a very grippable ass. A line of sweat trickled between her shoulder blades. Jesus Christ.

  He tried to think of all the reasons sleeping with Amy Sinclair would be a bad idea. He couldn’t remember a single one.

  Instead, he ambled up to one of the roadies. “Why don’t I help?”

  “You sure, man? You’re the talent.” The guy looked up from the brim of his hat.

  He waved the other guy off. He made sure Sinclair was still there. He whipped his shirt off and tucked it into the band of his jeans. “Sinclair, can you tell him I can help?”

  The look she gave when she turned was priceless. Her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped.

  Ronan tried not to look too smug, but he also wanted to tease her, just a little bit. He heaved one of the amps up and perched it on his shoulder.

  “Where do you want this?”

  The guy directed him inside. Even though it was an indoor venue, it still felt massive. He had to weave in between rows of seats and seek out shade wherever he could. It was such a throwback, hauling equipment. When he was first starting out, he didn’t have a crew. It was him, Di, and some of their friends hauling mics and guitars into dive bars. It felt good to get into the rhythm with the crew. He made sure to find as many excuses as he could to walk by Sinclair.

  Within an hour, though, the novelty was wearing off. He forgot that when he and Di were hauling all this equipment, they had been in their mid-twenties. Now, Ronan was edging into his mid-thirties. His body wasn’t ready to handle this for long stretches of time. His arms screamed from carrying fifty-pound speakers and his legs burned from carrying them up fifteen flights of stairs onto the field.

  He slipped into one of the backstage rooms, which was blissfull
y cooler. He drenched a towel with cold water and pressed his face into it. The relief was visceral. He would take a shower before the show tonight. He just needed a minute to reset.

  Two sharp raps sounded from outside.

  “Door’s open,” he yelled.

  Sinclair appeared. She was just as sweaty as he was, her hair plastered to her forehead.

  “Ah, Ms. Sinclair.”

  “I thought you would have a shirt on by now.” She kept her eyes on his face. He smirked.

  “What brings you back here?” He dabbed his face with the towel.

  Her eyes dropped.

  “Uh, I just…” she took a deep breath. “I needed… something.”

  A flame started burning in Ronan’s stomach. He stepped closer to her, wiping the front of his chest with the cool towel. He watched as her eyes followed his hand.

  “Oh yeah?” He looked around “And what’s that?”

  God, she’s beautiful. His gaze drifted to her lips.

  “I.. don’t remember.” She blinked.

  “You know what I think?” He tossed the towel to the floor.

  Her eyes locked with his. Searching. But then they narrowed and she closed the distance between them. He watched a drop of sweat roll down the flush of her chest as it rose and fell.

  She took a step even closer and his breath hitched. Standing this close to her, inhaling the salty perfume of the hot day, tinged with sweat and some floral notes. He caught her looking at his mouth.

  The hell with it.

  He looped his fingers in her belt loop and drew her to him. She came to him like she was underwater. When they were nose to nose, he leaned forward until he was just a breath away from pressing his lips against hers.

  “I’d really like to kiss you right now.” He closed his eyes.

  Her nose brushed against his as she nodded. That was all it took. Their kiss was more of a whisper, their lips barely brushing one another. Then Amy leaned in closer and pressed herself to him. He felt all the tension that had been building crash between them in that one kiss.

  Ronan wasn’t sure when it started; a few hours, a few days, or even that first day when he saw her in the recording studio. All he knew was he had been longing to kiss her. He wanted to drag his hands through her hair and make her unravel. He slipped his tongue into her mouth and felt her arch under his touch. The perfect fucking reaction.

  He wrapped his hand in her shirt and pulled her closer. Her stomach tightened under his grasp. He wanted to lick the sweat off her neck and follow the trails between her breasts. Despite the air-conditioned room, he could feel her warmth seep through her shirt.

  He dragged his hands to her ass and pressed her even closer. She gasped into his mouth. Ronan got a flash of what she would sound like under him. He would go slow, drawing out the tension until they were both losing their minds. Her nails dragged along his sides, a ghost of a touch. It made him go even crazier.

  He gave an involuntary thrust. She must have gasped, because when he did it a second time, it was very intentional. Her hands moved from his sides to trail up to his shoulders. She gave a small laugh, which she swallowed when she felt his cock press against her.

  A crash of metal on metal outside the door cut through the haze. Amy broke the kiss, but Ronan kept her pressed against him. Voices murmured further down the hall. His heartbeat pounded in his ears and his chest heaved. How long had it been since he had gotten so worked up? She buried her face in his chest; he instinctively brought his hand to her hair. After a few moments, the voice subsided. Heavy footsteps carried down the hallway. Then, it was quiet.

  He tenderly dragged his fingers along the nape of her neck, playing with her hair. He wasn’t all that eager to let go. They stayed like that for how long, Ronan wasn’t sure. But it told him that not only would Amy Sinclair be a real treat in bed, but he could also be with her like this.

  That was a fucking scary revelation.

  It was like Amy could hear his thoughts, because she suddenly took a step back. Her lips were puffy from kissing him and a flush still lingered on her chest. Her hands went to her hair to fix it.

  “I’m gonna let you take care of yourself. I mean, get ready.” She clenched her eyes shut and put one hand on her forehead. “...For your show tonight.”

  Ronan couldn’t help but smile. She was cute when she was flustered. Just like that she was gone.

  Ronan leaned on the makeshift desk. That cold shower was sounding pretty good right about now.

  Chapter 11

  Amy

  Amy slid into the nearest bathroom. After checking that all the stalls were empty, she faced the mirror.

  Her mouth was puffy, her nipples were hard, and her face was flushed. Some of that she could blame on the New Orleans heat. But the throbbing between her legs and pounding in her chest was all thanks to Ronan Cash.

  She absently brought her fingertips to her lips. Kissing him made everything in her light up. What would it feel like if they had gone further?

  She shook her head. She couldn’t get distracted. She had to keep him – her client – safe and on schedule. The music scene in LA was tight knit. If anyone got a whiff that she was fooling around with Ronan Cash, it could put her career goals in jeopardy.

  But a small part of her wanted to go back to that dressing room and find out what it was like to press him against a wall and explore his chest with her mouth. That same part of her wanted to see his head between her thighs.

  She stared at herself in the mirror. Not gonna happen, she told herself. No matter how much she wanted it to.

  Amy steered clear of Ronan for the rest of the night. She had Sarah take over the Meet and Greet they had scheduled, instead choosing to work the front gate. As fans flashed their tickets at her and opened their bags, she mentally ticked off the remaining tour dates they had.

  Ronan finally found her as she walked through the venue.

  “Come with me.” He took her hand, quickly moving down the hall. Amy was too shocked to protest. She tried not to think how similar he sounded when he kissed her.

  He brought her back to the same room and faced her.

  “You’ve been avoiding me all night.” Despite the heat, his hair was perfectly styled and his white shirt clung to him, revealing every dip and plane of his chest and abs.

  It wasn’t a question.

  “So what?” She crossed her arms. He shot her a smile and her cheeks burned.

  “Do you find this funny?” Her eyebrows pinched together.

  He shrugged, hooking his fingers into her belt loops.

  “What can I say?” He went to pull her closer.

  “I don’t take this lightly.” She shook her head, trying to get some space between them.

  “Neither do I.” His expression grew serious.

  “You say that now,” she hissed. “You’d be surprised what people do when it comes down to it.”

  “Maybe.” He took a step closer. “But I wouldn’t do that for two reasons. One: What you have on me is a hell of a lot juicier than what I have on you. And two.” He reached up and brushed her cheek. “I very much want to do that again.”

  He turned around and left before she could think of a witty comeback.

  Chapter 12

  Ronan

  He had pushed his luck by admitting he wanted to kiss her again. When he saw hurt flash across Amy’s face, he wanted to do something to make it go away. He made it halfway across the parking lot before the sound of her Doc Martens followed.

  “Wait.”

  He turned. Her eyebrows were drawn together and her hands were balled up at her sides.

  Every part of him wanted to pull her closer. Instead, he simply raised an eyebrow.

  “God dammit,” she muttered under her breath, grabbing his arm and pulling him over to a quiet part of the venue. The gravel crunched under their feet while the cicadas hummed. When they were out of sight, she pressed him against the wall. He swallowed a victorious smile.

  “I
want to go on record that I think this is a bad idea.” She looked up at him.

  Then she threw her arms around his neck, covering his lips with hers. His hands darted under her jacket and beneath her ass. She wrapped her legs around his waist, moving her hot core closer to his cock. He flipped their positions, pressing her against the wall, so he could get closer to her skin.

  He dragged his mouth from hers down her neck. She hissed in pleasure, pulling on his hair. Thank fuck for her loose ripped t-shirt; he could dip his tongue between her breasts and fondle her nipples easily. He heard the light thud of her head hitting the wall as she wrapped her legs even tighter around him.

  Why did they both have to be wearing jeans? He longed to slip his hands into her panties and feel how wet he was making her. He shifted his stance so he could lavish even more attention on her nipples. Perky and rosy, he circled each one slowly.

  After a few minutes, she started to whine.

  “Jesus, fuck.” She panted. “If you don’t slow down… I’m not sure I can stay quiet.”

  He thrust against her. He then moved his tongue across her nipple faster, syncing the rhythm between them. She pulled his face up to hers, crying out her orgasm into his mouth. He never heard anything sexier in his life. She buried her face in his shoulder, keeping her legs locked around him.

  He slowed his movements, but he couldn’t ignore the lust clawing up his legs. She picked her head up, returning a languid kiss to his lips.

  “Let me,” she whispered.

  Ronan pulled Amy aside when they touched base in Nashville. While the rest of the crew was inside, the Country Music Hall of Fame watched over them.

  “It’s been four hours,” he whispered. “I need to kiss you again.”

  She rolled her eyes but kept her hands firmly on his hips. She pressed her lips quickly to his cheek.

  “There you go.” She started to saunter off. She only got a few steps away before he wrapped his arms around her. She squealed in delight.

  “Oh no you don’t.” He nibbled her ear.

  When they stopped in Pennsylvania, Amy snuck him a keychain.