Dirty Rock: A Rock Star Romance

by James, Vicki

  The thought of losing her, of her being on the road with another band… shit… it fucked me up. My chest tightened and panic set in. My baby. Where would my baby be? Who would take care of them both if I wasn’t around?

  Apparently, I didn’t keep those questions inside my head. I blurted them out for Julia to hear.

  “I’m not leaving you,” she assured me, nestling in by my side and forcing me to lie back down. “I’ll stay with you guys on the road, but I’ll work for them. I’ve got a new girl coming in to take over my position, but I’ll be there to oversee what she does and advise along the way. I can work for FRF while being away from them. Yeah, I’ll have to fly off around the world occasionally—”

  “With my baby.”

  “Our baby.” She smirked like the words still hadn’t sunk in with either of us. “But I’ll take you with me when I do. On the rare occasions that can’t happen, we’ll make it work.”

  I sighed heavily, knowing I couldn’t argue with her for shit on this. Her mind had been made up, and when you fall in love with a strong woman like Jules, you make your bed, and you have to goddamn lie in it.

  “We’ll make it work, right, Rhett? That’s what you always promised me.”

  “I’ve taught you to be a manipulator all too well,” I grumbled, pushing a hand through my hair and digging my fist in tight with frustration.

  “No, Sinatra,” she purred as she leaned in to hover her lips over mine. “I’ve always known how to be that. How do you think I got the hottest rocker on the planet to hand his life over to me?”

  When I peeked an eye open in her direction, I saw mischief staring back at me.

  “You’re going to regret wanting that for yourself,” I warned. “I can be a living nightmare when I want to be.”

  “Regret Rhett? Never.” She kissed me and whispered against my mouth. “I bet on Rhett, remember? I always have, and I always will. You’re stuck with me now. You, me, and this little life we’ve created. Think you can handle it?”

  Could I handle it?

  Hell, yes, I could.

  I wanted it all with her, and as I brought her mouth back to mine and cradled her neck in my hands, brushing my thumbs along her jaw, I poured all the assurances I had for her back into her kiss.

  The world had Rhett Ryan, sure.

  Julia had me.

  She’d always be the one who got this version.

  A little broken. Always ready. Eager to learn and desperate to please.

  Youth Gone Wild was my job now. Julia Speed was my passion. And I hoped, with all the happiness straining against my wildly beating heart, that this was my forever. I’d seen everything life had to give, and the woman in my arms was the best of it.

  Epilogue

  JULIA SPEED

  A Few Months Later

  “Julia?”

  I spun around to see Danny, the guitarist from Front Row Frogs, staring at me with wide eyes and a pale face. He was in his early twenties but looked young for it. Danny was the one from the band who was most unsure of himself, yet bizarrely, he was definitely the most sought after by the fans. I’d been around in this industry long enough to know that his uncertainty came from him not wanting the attention, thanks to a six-year relationship with a girlfriend back in his hometown that had been put on hold, while he focused on his career.

  Danny missed the girl but wanted the band to make it.

  I’d seen this story a thousand times already.

  “Yes, Danny?” I said, strapping on a smile.

  “Halo told me to come and have a word with you about something.” Halo was the band’s lead singer. That wasn’t his real name. As a mother to be, the thought of calling my child Halo made my insides squirm. But every lead singer needed to make a name for themselves, and I guessed Halo’s way was by calling himself Halo when he was, in fact, the devil in disguise.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked Danny, guiding him away from the stage. They were due to gig later that night, and the rest of the band were currently going through the setlist. “What’s Halo advised you to do this time? Set yourself on fire like Nikki Sixx again? Please don’t, Danny. This isn’t the 80s anymore, and we have a lot more paperwork to fill in at the end of the day when people drop diesel all over themselves then go near an open flame.”

  “No, no. I… did something.”

  “Now, I’m going to need you to tell me what you did so I can help.”

  “I screwed around with someone I shouldn’t have.”

  “The girlfriend back home?”

  “Ex-girlfriend, but no. Not her.”

  I raised a brow and waited. I was only a decade older than Danny, but sometimes, with these kids, it felt like we were centuries apart.

  “I… I fucked JJ Jones.”

  My heart sank, and my stomach settled. An odd combination, but I was partly relieved he wasn’t telling me he and Halo were in a love affair, and partly disgusted to hear that woman’s name floating around in my life again.

  Resting a hand on Danny’s shoulder, I squeezed it tight and pulled him closer. “Danny?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Everyone has fucked JJ Jones.”

  He scowled at me, no doubt waiting for something else to follow that not-so-epic statement, but there was only so much energy I was willing to waste on that social climbing beast.

  And, yeah, I loved Rhett Ryan with all my heart, and that brought out little snippets of jealousy every now and again. Not because I thought she had another chance with him, but because of the way she’d exposed us to the world and thought she had any claim over my man whatsoever.

  Mine.

  Rhett Ryan, the most desirable crooner to exist, was mine.

  “Why are you smiling at me?” Danny asked, confused.

  “Hadn’t realised I was.” I tried to shake the smile away, but it was screwed into place. “But seriously, Danny. Don’t sweat it about JJ.”

  “What if she tells the press?”

  “What if she does?”

  Danny closed his eyes for a second before he opened them again. “I can’t have Daisy finding out.”

  My smile slipped to a sympathetic one. “Daisy being the girlfriend back home.”

  “Ex…”

  “Right.” I sighed for him. The poor fool. “If she’s an ex, why can’t she find out?”

  “Because it will hurt her.”

  “Why is she your ex, Danny?”

  “What?”

  “Why is Daisy known as your ex when you obviously want her to be your everything.”

  His eyes drifted to the band members on stage behind him, before he focused back on me. “Can’t have it all, right?”

  I thought back on the journey I’d had to get Rhett. On the journey we’d taken together. The very thoughts of ‘we can’t have it all, right?’ that floated through both our minds as we wasted time on the back and forth and all the pretending. I thought of Presley and Tessa, too. The battles they’d endured to be with each other the way they were always meant to be.

  The music industry, or any industry in the spotlight, stripped the people within it of a right to live. They were forced to choose between business and personal, and that sacrifice would always, always end up in heartbreak and unnecessary distress. I didn’t want that for these kids anymore. I didn’t want it for Front Row Frogs. I didn’t want it for Youth Gone Wild. I didn’t want it for JJ Jones or any of them.

  I was in a position to do something about it, too.

  “You listen to me, Danny, and you listen good.” I leaned in, and Danny’s brows rose as he watched me. “You can have it all. You can have everything you’ve ever wanted, and then you can ask for more. You can even demand a bloody cherry on top if that’s what your heart desires. You can have the music, and you can have the love. The two aren’t mutually exclusive, and if anyone tries to tell you otherwise, you send them to me, okay? You don’t waste your time sleeping with women like JJ Jones to forget about your Daisy. You don’t waste time speaking to
me in the corridors of buildings we won’t remember tomorrow when you could be on the phone, speaking to someone who matters. Someone who could give you everything if you just let them.”

  “Shit, I thought… I thought you’d…”

  “What? Berate you for wanting to stay true to your heart? Hell no. You leave JJ Jones to me. If you want to deal with your Daisy issues, that’s up to you. I won’t get involved. But I also won’t sit by idly anymore and let this industry tell humans they can’t be human just because they sing, strum, or drum for a living. Whatever you decide, I’m your publicist, and I’ve got your back, Danny.”

  He blinked wildly for a few moments before colour rose in his cheeks and his eyes lit up with genuine excitement.

  “Youth Gone Wild were right,” he finally said.

  “About what?”

  “You being the biggest badass on the planet.”

  I laughed fully, feeling the flutters in my belly joining me. I placed a hand over my stomach the way I always did when I felt those blessed motions before I chucked my chin and gestured for Danny to make a move. “Get out of here, lover boy.”

  “Thanks, Jules.” In a surprise move, he leaned in to kiss me on my cheek and whispered in my ear, “You’re the best.”

  When he walked away, I let my gaze fall to my hand over my belly, and I smiled to myself.

  “No, you’re the best,” I said to my unborn baby in a whisper.

  Life, like this, was magical.

  The new job was going well, even if Rhett was bugging me about being away for just two days at the moment. Right on cue, my phone rang. The tune of UB40’s The Way You Do the Things You Do bringing it to life with Rhett’s name and devilishly handsome face lighting up the screen.

  I answered and pressed it to my ear, blowing out a breath. “I’m sorry, Julia Speed the publicist can’t talk right now. She’s very busy dealing with teenage dramas of incurable lust and unrequited love.”

  “Hey, Julia Speed the publicist. You happen to know where Jules my insatiable fucktoy and baby mama is?”

  I blushed everywhere. “Hold, please.” I grinned. Dropping the phone down, I took a moment to collect a breath. His molten sex voice made my chest beat wildly. He made my heart skip around inside my body like it had free reign to roam wherever it deemed fit. After everything we’d been through, all the times we’d had sex, made love, kissed, and declared so many sweet things to one another, Rhett Ryan still managed to make me nervous.

  I lived for those nerves.

  I brought the phone back up to my ear and cleared my throat. “Jules the fucktoy and baby mama here,” I moaned seductively.

  Rhett groaned. “There’s my girl.”

  “What can I do for you?” I smirked.

  “So many disgustingly vile things, but you’re not here, and I’m miserable.”

  “I’ll be home tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow is too damn far away,” he grumbled.

  I wouldn’t ever get used to the way he devoured me and never seemed to get enough. He promised me his hunger would never be satisfied as far as I was concerned. The thought of a lifetime of him, me, and our baby made my whole existence seem like a dream.

  “I can catch the earlier flight, maybe,” I offered, giving into my needy man without much of a fight whatsoever. If he was pathetic, I was even more so. “I’m due to land at Heathrow with the boys at 3:00 p.m., but I heard one of the runners saying they were catching the 9:20 a.m. flight back from Berlin.”

  “Don’t tease me.”

  “Teasing is for girls. I’m a woman. I prefer to promise.”

  “How do you do it?”

  “What?” I chuckled.

  “Make me so damn hard with nothing more than a phone call about flights and getting back earlier.”

  “It’s a skill I’ll never share with anyone. That way, I get to keep you to myself.”

  “Always, baby.” I heard the smirk in his voice. Those two words always made my belly flutter, and now I wasn’t sure if it was the baby reacting to its daddy’s voice, or me reacting to Rhett. “Okay, distract me before I end up getting my dick out in front of Coops, and he thinks I’m daydreaming of him instead of you.”

  I laughed… again… and went out to the front of the stage as I told Rhett about my day. I told him how Front Row Frogs were due to meet with a big German producer who wanted to speak to them about their next album before their gig tonight. I wasn’t supposed to be in on the meeting, but I was going at their request. Something their female manager wasn’t too happy about. She clearly saw me as a threat yet seemed slightly obsessed with the fact I was dating the Rhett Ryan, too.

  “She’s probably jealous,” Rhett said down the phone. “I’m quite the catch.”

  “Can’t argue with that.”

  “So, you’re staying there for the band’s gig tonight. You sure I can’t persuade you to come home, like, I don’t know… now?”

  “I love you, Sinatra, but I’m staying for the band’s gig.”

  “Fine,” he grumbled. “Don’t fall in love with any other rock stars.”

  “One is more than enough.”

  “See ya later, baby mama.”

  “See you soon, baby daddy.”

  “Love you.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Always, baby.”

  The rest of the night seemed to drag, and even though I was in a position that thousands and thousands of girls, boys, women and men would give up a limb to be in, I found myself completely and utterly bored.

  Nothing beats the first time, and watching Youth Gone Wild rise to fame from scratch had been a fresh experience—one I’d relished. Now, even though I believed in Front Row Frogs, getting them the same attention was proving tiresome and slow-moving. Maybe the pregnancy was taking its toll on me more than I was realising. I couldn’t be a hundred percent sure, but all I wanted to do while dining in the nicest restaurants and staying in beautiful hotels was…

  Go home.

  To my little yellow cottage, while trying to ignore the rotting blue mess just a few doors down that Rhett never stayed in. The Ugly Money Pit I already knew he’d never part with.

  The thought of it all made me smile to myself as the crowds filtered into the venue to see the latest up-and-coming act. The one fortunate thing my name had gained from the press attention was credibility. I was damn good at what I did, and for the first time ever, a publicist was being recognised for their work.

  I’d requested a front row seat of the performance, leaving the band’s manager to tackle things backstage. Being pregnant garnered certain privileges, and I was making the most of them before the whole world found out Rhett and I were having a baby. For now, only those who had to know, knew, and I was safe in a bubble of protection I never wanted to leave. At roughly five months, though, time was running out. There were only so many black, baggy tops I could keep wearing.

  I settled in next to two burly security guards who were acting as casual fans in case things got out of control. The venue we were in had the capacity to hold roughly three thousand, and for this band, it was a big deal.

  Halo opened up with the first song, and it was good. He owned the stage the way a frontman should; with ease, charm, and a voice decent enough to be known for the music rather than the smirking lips and twinkling eyes.

  I took notes on my phone as I watched them all do their thing. A publicist should know their clients’ weaknesses so they could hide them under strengths. I made notes of those, too.

  As much as I loved and believed in the guys on stage, they didn’t set me alight the way Youth Gone Wild had and still did. Something was missing. An edge. A true belief in the music they performed. Halo was the only one who demanded your attention up there. The others looked how I felt.

  Slightly underwhelmed.

  Still, the fans went crazy, and I couldn’t help but smile as I turned around in my seat and watched all the people there cheering, with their cameras flashing and their screams turned up to full v
olume.

  That smile turned into a grin as Halo finished a song and began speaking into the microphone. I saw a group of young girls not too far behind me, squealing to each other and bouncing on their toes. Music was such a personal experience, and what was my underwhelm was their euphoria.

  I couldn’t argue with their happiness.

  At once, they looked up to the stage, and their faces dropped. The girls pointed and clapped their hands to their mouths before they unleashed the shrillest cacophony of screams I’d ever heard in my life.

  “Oh, jeez,” I mumbled to the guy next to me. “I daren’t turn back around. Has Halo just got his dick out?”

  The guy’s shoulders bounced with laughter. “Not quite, but you’re going to want to see this.”

  “I’m not sure I do.” With a sigh, I turned back around in my seat, only to freeze where I was when I saw a very familiar face staring back at me from the front of the stage.

  Rhett had a microphone in his hand as he looked into my wide eyes. His dark hair was styled yet shaggy, and his signature cocksure smirk was in place. He wore a tight Front Row Frogs T-shirt only he could pull off, with his usual torn jeans and black, heavy boots.

  My man.

  He was right there…

  In Berlin!

  The stadium erupted, the screams and cheers getting louder and louder and louder while my eyes just held his and filled with tears I didn’t want to part with.

  No more crying, he’d warned me.

  Not unless I felt so happy, I thought I would explode.

  That was the kind of happiness that had taken over, and just like the girls who’d been behind me, I slapped my hands to my mouth and shook my head at him.

  Rhett brought the mic to his mouth slowly. He was seducing no one but me, yet the whole venue was eating out of the palm of his hand.

  “Hey, Berlin,” he said smoothly.

  If I thought the noise before had been crazy, it was deafening when he finally spoke. He didn’t seem the least bit concerned as he just stared right at me like we’d been apart for a year, not a day.

  Dropping my hands into my lap, I mouthed to him, “What are you doing?” But my grin was ridiculous.