Let it Burn: Sons of Sinners Part 2 (A Rock Star Romance)

by Grace James

  My smile widened at the memory, and the fact that he knew about it. “That’s true.”

  “And you did it. It’s a great venue. Look at how many bands are beating down your door to play there.”

  My mood flattened. “They’re only doing that because of you – the show you and Derren put on is the reason everyone suddenly wants a piece of us. It has nothing to do with me.”

  “That’s not true. All I did was draw attention to what was already there. I just gave you some publicity. You did the real work. You should be proud.”

  I thought over what he’d said. “I guess I am proud of it,” I admitted. “Which is why I can’t just stop giving a crap now when it’s finally starting to take off.”

  “And I’m not asking you to. I just want you to give a crap from New York for one weekend.”

  “You mean work while we’re away?”

  “Well, isn’t half the stuff you do on your laptop anyway?”

  That was actually a good point. “…yeah.”

  “So work on the flight. It’s what our management team do.”

  “I guess I could try that,” I agreed, hope filling me that I would be able to go after all. “I’ll talk to Harvey tomorrow and see what he says.”

  He huffed. “You’re the manager, just tell him you’re not gonna be there.”

  “Blake,” I started patiently, “most people don’t just tell their bosses they’re not going to work, most people ask nicely.”

  “You want me to call him?”

  My head shot up quicker than a whack-a-mole. “Don’t you dare! You’re officially banned from interfering with my work – or hijacking my phone calls! No more!”

  He chuckled at my outburst. “Okay, got it.”

  “I’m serious! How would you like it if I stole your phone and called Aiden to tell him you weren’t going to work Saturday night?”

  He stared at me for a moment – then just about doubled up laughing. “You think Aiden’s my boss?! I’m the fuckin’ boss, Princess.”

  I wacked him lightly on the chest. “Oh, shut up. Your ego’s showing.”

  His laughter receded slightly and his trademark dirty smirk surfaced again. “Come up here and shut me up.”

  I grinned as I rolled on top of him and reached up to push my fingers into his silky soft hair, playing with the dark strands as I kissed him.

  His big arms locked around me tight. “I love you,” he murmured against my lips.

  “I love you, too,” I replied, squirming against his hardening cock.

  Suddenly, he flipped me onto my back, covering my body with his, and we made love. Long, slow love that lasted most of the night.

  62

  When I went in to work the following evening, it turned out that Harvey’s errors weren’t as massive the last time I took time off, so I didn’t have as much catching up to do as I’d predicted, which was good.

  Harvey also begrudgingly agreed to let me take the weekend off at short notice to go to Global Citizen Fest, as long as I took my computer and stayed in touch, which I’d planned to do anyway – and I think the ‘begrudging’ part was because he was jealous that I got to go to the festival and he didn’t, and the ‘stay in touch’ part was mostly because he wanted me to send him backstage pictures.

  On Saturday, I took an early morning flight with Blake and the others to New York City. We travelled first class, so the journey was calm and quiet, and everyone just retreated into their own little worlds.

  Kane took a nap.

  Danny watched movies on his iPad.

  Hayley read magazines.

  Derren read his kindle.

  Blake shoved in one ear bud, pulled out his yellow legal pad, and started scribbling lyrics and drawing doodles, stopping occasionally to give me a smile and a kiss.

  And I managed to get plenty of work done – probably more than I would have gotten done if I’d actually been at The Academy.

  The whole flight was the total opposite of what you’d expect travelling with rock stars to be like.

  Basically, the it lulled me into a false sense of security.

  63

  You know when you see pictures of celebrities in magazines and online, and they’re looking all pissed off as they walk through an airport terminal or whatever?

  Well, what I never really realized before was that those pictures aren’t just taken by one guy with a camera.

  There are legions of them.

  And they don’t just stand there politely and call out, “Say cheese!”

  They follow you. They get up in your face.

  Their cameras don’t just snap you a couple of times either; it’s like click-click-click-click-click on a loop. And because there are dozens of them, and all their cameras are constantly flashing, you don’t look directly at them, you keep your head down and, yeah, you end up looking pretty pissed off.

  In another Naïve Amy Moment, I hadn’t given much thought to the paparazzi we might encounter in NYC. For one thing, there had been none at McCarran that I had noticed, so when I saw dozens of them waiting in the terminal at JFK, I couldn’t hide my shock. I was walking next to Blake, tapping out a text on my phone, when I glanced up – and stopped dead.

  Danny barreled right into the back of me.

  “Oh, shit!” he exclaimed, grabbing me around my waist to stop me from falling. “Sorry, love!”

  I steadied myself in his arms. “It’s okay, it’s my fault, I just wasn’t prepared for…that.” I gestured towards the waiting hordes.

  “Hey, you okay? What’s wrong?” Blake asked. He’d heard the commotion and turned around.

  “I don’t think she was expecting our welcome party,” Danny explained, his arms falling away as the flashes of the cameras zeroed in on us.

  “How come it’s like that here, but not back at McCarran?” I asked.

  “JFK and LAX are always worse,” Blake explained. “Plus, it’s common knowledge there’s a bunch of musicians flying in for the festival. You sure you’re okay?”

  “…yeah.”

  “Come on, folks! Keep moving!”

  The gruff instructions came from Grant – Sons of Sinners’ burly Head of Security – who had been on the flight with us, along with another man mountain of a minder, called Cody. Grant looked like a typical bodyguard in my opinion – huge and tatted up, with a buzz cut topping it all off. Cody looked like a Viking, with long blond hair that somehow made him look even more badass.

  They had stopped to wait about twenty feet in front of us, with Hayley and the others, while I had my mini-meltdown.

  Blake put an arm around my shoulders and guided me forwards again. “Sunglasses help,” he said as we walked.

  I glanced up at him. “What?”

  “With people looking at you and taking pictures. Sunglasses help. You ever heard that saying, ‘The eyes are the window to the soul’?”

  “Um, yeah, I think so.”

  “Well, your eyes give away a lot about you, right? So, if you cover them, it’s sort of makes you feel…I don’t know, kinda cut off? Like they can take as many pictures as they want but they’re not really getting you, y’know?”

  I’d already noticed that, aside from Grant and Cody, everyone had donned a pair of sunglasses at some point in the last few minutes – even Hayley. “So, you’re not all just doing that ‘celebrity in disguise’ thing? You’re all hiding your souls?”

  He barked a laugh. “Walking around in a pair of aviators indoors, or when it’s dark out, is more likely to attract attention than disguise you – that’s not why people do it.” He pulled me even closer to him; I put my arm around his hips and slid my hand into the back pocket of his jeans. “Having people look at you all the time is intense, even when you’re used to it…here.” He pulled off his sunglasses and slid them over my eyes. “Any better?”

  It sounds weird, but it really was. I didn’t feel half so exposed. “Yeah, actually. But what about you?”

  “Princess, if you’re good, I’
m good.”

  Aww…

  It seemed to take us forever to get through the airport and into the small fleet of SUVs that were waiting to take us to Central Park.

  We didn’t just have to negotiate the paparazzi, there were crowds of fans there, too. Airport security tried to keep them under control, but it still got a little crazy. We were jostled and crowded, people were yelling stuff and shoving things at the guys to sign. I noticed that they did sign what they could, and tried to exchange a few words with fans here and there, before security urged them forwards again.

  It was overwhelming, and I pretty much just clung to Blake – who’s arm stayed locked around me the whole time – until we finally reached the SUVs.

  Blake and I had one to ourselves, and the sudden quiet inside the car was weird after the chaos of the airport.

  But it didn’t last long.

  When we climbed out of the car at the entrance to the area of Central Park designated as ‘backstage’, Aiden was already waiting – he’d flown in direct from LA to NYC. Standing with him was a woman with a headset and a clipboard who was wearing a ‘Global Citizen’ tee. They immediately started ushering us through the throng of similarly dressed people who were scooting all over the place pushing huge equipment cases, maneuvering lighting rigs, or wheeling what looked like smoke canons and pyrotechnic gear towards the stage.

  As a group, we cut past the large tents and trailers that were scattered between the tall trees, following along behind Aiden as he reeled off a long list of information to the guys.

  Blake grinned at me and crossed his eyes as Aiden spoke, forcing me to mask a laugh with a cough. Getting reamed out by Aiden for laughing while he imparted his ‘vital info’ wasn’t on my list of Fun Weekend Activities.

  Aiden continued issuing his instructions, thankfully oblivious, “Blake, there are some cards in the trailer with suggested comments that you could make before the set. And remember – easy on the cursing, this show’s being broadcast live.”

  Blake shot me a look of mock outrage at that comment – and I had to bite my lip to keep from giggling again.

  Aiden continued, “We’ve got interviews pretty much up to the wire so you guys need to be ready ASAP.” He turned then, walking backwards, to point two fingers at Hayley and me. “Ladies, your passes are in the trailer, do not forget them or there’s a chance you’ll be turned out.”

  Hayley snorted a laugh from behind me. “Aiden that happened one time.”

  He rolled his eyes good naturedly and dropped into step beside Blake. His voice was lower when he spoke next, clearly meant for just us to hear. “Are you sure bringing Amy was a good idea?” The look he shot me wasn’t in the least bit apologetic, and the friendly manner he’d shown just moments before was muted.

  Blake was holding my hand, and I felt his arm tense alongside mine. “What? How is bringing my girlfriend a problem?”

  “If she’s here, she’s a part of it. If you’re going to bring her along to things like this, you can’t expect the press not to jump on it, that’s all I’m saying. You told me that was a problem.”

  Blake’s eyes flicked to mine and away again as a frown fluttered across his brow. Presumably because, yeah, he had told Aiden that after the pictures of us at the Bellagio first got spread all over the internet.

  And now here we were.

  After a few seconds of silence, Aiden spoke again. “All I’m saying is, be prepared for the press to keep digging. And you know what they’ll discov–”

  Blake cut him off coldly. “Okay. Enough.”

  I actually saw Aiden bite his tongue. “Alright…it’s your call.”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  Aiden nodded and moved away, walking brusquely ahead of us again.

  I was so confused.

  ‘And you know what they’ll discover’…what exactly does he mean by THAT?

  Is there something Blake doesn’t want me to know?

  I opened my mouth to ask Blake what Aiden was getting at – but before I could, Aiden was talking loudly to the group again. “Alright, everyone! Your dressing room is just here on the right. You have a half hour in there before we need to prep for interviews. Blake, we might need you sooner.”

  64

  When we entered Sons of Sinners’ dressing room – a large trailer amongst a sea of other trailers – the first thing that struck me was the ridiculous amount of clothes that were in there.

  The second thing that struck me was the really gorgeous woman – all long, glossy, black hair and big, green, cat’s eyes – standing amidst the legion of clothing racks. “Hey, boys!” she called out, her voice husky and feminine. “I was getting lonely in here without you!”

  “Aw, hell,” Kane groaned, as soon as we stepped into the room. “You gotta be kidding me.”

  Blake looked just as unimpressed as his friend. “Shit, Lacey, we’re doing this now?”

  “Well, hello to you, too!” Lacey huffed, but it was clear she wasn’t really offended; she actually looked more amused than anything else as she walked over to the guys.

  “Sorry, Lacey,” Kane said, clearly contrite as he pulled her in for a hug. The other’s followed suit – all apart from Blake, who stayed next to me.

  “What’s up, big guy?” Lacey said to him, her pearly white grin practically eclipsing her face. “Where’s my squeeze?”

  Blake reluctantly let go of my hand to step in and give her a quick hug. “Good to see you, Lace,” he said when he stepped back. “How’s it going?”

  “Good, but I’ll be a lot better when you suck it up and stop whining.” She gave Kane and Blake mockingly-scathing looks. “Jeez, styling you boys is the most thankless job imaginable.”

  “Try managing them,” Aiden commented from behind me. “Thank you for flying all this in last minute, Lacey, we appreciate it.”

  She smiled. “No problem. Anything for my number one clients.” She handed each of the guys a different colored roll of stickers. “When you see something you like, put a sticker on the hanger and I’ll do the rest.”

  Blake and Kane took the stickers, along with the others, but Kane looked over at Blake and put his hand to his temple, imitating a gun.

  “I feel ya, brother,” Blake muttered.

  “Well, I think it’s exciting,” Hayley gushed, pulling me with her towards the clothing racks. “We get to dress them like Ken dolls!”

  Derren had already handed his stickers off to her and was wandering over to the couches at the other end of the room. It didn’t surprise me that Hayley would be the one choosing his clothes.

  I noticed that each of the clothing racks had a sign taped to it, declaring which member of the band it was for. “That’s a hell of a lot of clothes for one show,” I commented, moving to look at the rack with Blake’s name on.

  “Oh, honey, these aren’t for tonight,” Lacey told me. “We need new wardrobes for all the promo they’ll be doing in a few months in preparation for the album release – but trying to pin these guys down to look at clothes is always a nightmare, that’s why we have to resort to trickery and deceit.”

  “Oh…” My mind boggled a little. “You need a new ‘wardrobe’ for that?”

  Lacey looked at me like I was the dumbest person she’d ever met. “Yes, of course,” she said slowly.

  This really is another world.

  I looked back at Blake. “But you still wear old band t-shirts that you’ve had since I knew you before.”

  “Yep,” he agreed. “I keep telling them.”

  I picked up a pair of leather pants from his rack and couldn’t help a little snicker. Blake so wasn’t a leather pant type of guy.

  Lacey must have totally misread the smile on my face. “You like the idea of him in leather pants, too, huh?”

  “Um…”

  Lacey approached Blake and curled her hand around his arm as she tried to tug him towards the clothes. “Come on, big guy, if even your ‘girlfriend’ likes them, they must be worth a try. Plus, I found
some amazing shirts to go with them – come see?”

  Okay, she didn’t actually air quote the word ‘girlfriend’ – but her tone totally implied it.

  And “big guy”? Really?

  AND the possessive hold she had on his arm?

  RELAX, she’s their stylist, she’s just doing her job. Reasonable Amy spoke up inside my head.

  Yeah, if her job is fawning all over my boyfriend! Jealous Amy shot back.

  Blake scowled and pulled his arm out of her grasp, moving away from her and towards me, completely ignoring her invitation. “You wanna do this for me, Princess? You know I hate this type of shit.”

  I was surprised that he’d even consider letting me decide what he wore, what with him being a control freak and all. “How do you know I won’t dress you head to toe in leather and…oh my God, is that net?” I asked in disgust, pointing at a black, fishnet wifebeater style thingy.

  When he saw what I was looking at, Blake’s grimace was laughable. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he muttered.

  “That’s to be layered up,” Lacy spoke up, exasperated. “Here, with this over the top –” she picked up a washed out, grey denim button down “– and maybe a few of those necklaces.” She waved her hand towards the end of the rack, where some accessories were hanging, as she added, “It’ll look hot, trust me.”

  “He hates wearing jewelry,” I said, before I even thought about it.

  Maybe, subconsciously, I was trying to piss her off.

  Maybe.

  Okay, it wasn’t even a little bit subconscious.

  Blake looked kind of pleasantly surprised, like he wasn’t aware I knew that about him, but he liked that I did.

  Lacey looked furious for a fraction of a second before she gave me a so-fake-it-hurts smile. “Well, I guess you two can take it from here, then.” She turned away abruptly, heading over to Danny, who was sifting through a rack piled high with skinny jeans and colorful pop-art t-shirts. He seemed to be a much more willing client than Blake – or Kane, who was looking through his selection with about as much enthusiasm as a cat taking a bath.