Rock the Band

by Michelle A. Valentine

  Even though I knew it wasn’t polite or good boyfriend etiquette to peek at her phone, I glanced down at the screen. Ten missed calls flashed before she dialed in the code to listen to her messages.

  A distinctly male voice was on the line, and my ears perked up.

  Lane twisted her lips as she listened and then after a couple seconds grinned. Why was she smiling? I was trying not to be a jealous dick, but I didn’t like it when another man made her face light up like that. That was my fucking job.

  She hung up the phone and stared at me. “That was Striker.”

  Both of my hands curled into fists on my lap. “What did he want?”

  “To offer me a job,” she said. “Isn’t that great news?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “No? What do you mean, no? This is a great opportunity.”

  How could she not see what he was doing? This job wasn’t a goodwill gesture. It was a way to keep her close. That asshole obviously still didn’t get it. Lane was mine and he needed to move the fuck on and quit trying to go after my girl. It wasn’t going to happen for him. “You can’t work for him.”

  Lane’s eyebrows furrowed. “You promised you wouldn’t complain about any job I took. I can’t believe you’re acting like this. I know this isn’t the ideal situation or boss, but there’s nothing between Striker and me.”

  A sarcastic laugh slipped from me. “Maybe on your end.”

  “Noel…don’t be that way. I need this job.”

  I grabbed her hand. “But you don’t need this job. I’ll take care of you.”

  She pulled her hand away. “I don’t want to be taken care of. Don’t you understand? I need a life outside of us—independence. The job Striker’s offering allows me to remain on tour with you and still work. He won’t be around like you think. It’s the best of both worlds.”

  I folded my arms across my chest and attempted to listen calmly. “What kind of job?”

  She grinned. “It’s putting together an online marketing campaign for a new line of men’s jewelry Striker has designed with a jeweler. It’s a personal project for him.”

  I raised my pierced eyebrow. “Men’s jewelry? I knew that British fucker was part fairy.”

  Lane laughed and smacked my leg. “Be nice.”

  I held up my hands defensively. “What? Just stating the obvious.”

  She rolled her eyes at me, and I tugged her body against mine in the seat. “This is serious, Noel.”

  I sighed. “I know. I’m sorry, but you have to admit he’s a tool.”

  “He’s pretty nice to me.”

  “Yeah, because he wants in your panties. But I’ve got news for him. It isn’t happening. Those panties belong to me.”

  She gave me a pointed look. “Do they?”

  I leaned down and kissed her lips before I worked my way to her ear. “We both know you love screaming my name when you come. So yeah, they belong to me,” I growled.

  Lane blushed fiercely. I knew that was fighting dirty, but when it came to claiming her, there were no rules. She was mine, and I wasn’t above reminding her or anyone else of that from time to time.

  We pulled into the parking lot a little later, and Big Bertha was a comforting sight with the regular crew gathered around it. Although I didn’t know the roadies all too well, it was good to see their familiar faces.

  Kyle parked the SUV near the back of the bus and hopped out.

  “Feel good to be back?” Lane asked as I helped her out.

  “Yes and no. I miss the guys, but there’s never enough alone time with you.”

  She threw her arms around my neck. “See, then you should be happy about this job.”

  My shoulders tensed under her touch. “I’m just not happy about your new boss.”

  She traced my chin with her finger. “Nothing will happen between me and Striker. I love you. So quit worrying.”

  It was easy to trust Lane, but it was hard to trust that douchebag, Striker. Who knew what his plan was. Everything inside of me told me it wasn’t just to give Lane a job. She was a beautiful woman. Any man would’ve told you that, and that’s why it didn’t add up.

  “I could always try to get the Black Falcon account back from Center Stage,” I told her, hoping it changed her mind.

  She shook her head. “No. They have Aubrey working on it now, and I can’t take that away from her.”

  I knew Aubrey was her best friend and she and Riff kind of had a thing, but her career wasn’t what mattered to me. I guess I was just a selfish jerk because taking something away from Aubrey to give to Lane was something I would’ve tried in a heartbeat if she wanted it. But she would kill me if I did that. There didn’t seem to be a way around her taking this new job.

  I sighed again and felt utterly defeated. “You won’t be around him much?”

  “If ever,” she countered.

  “If it makes you happy, then I’ll try my best to be supportive.”

  Her lips crushed into mine. “And that is why you’re the best boyfriend in the entire world.”

  I grinned and ground my pelvis into hers. “I thought this made me the best.”

  She smacked my chest. “You are impossible.”

  I laughed. “But you love me.”

  The skin on her cheeks was so soft as I cradled her face in my hands. I dipped my head and planted my lips on hers.

  “Oh, God! Would you two get a room already?” a voice remarked behind us. “A week of fuck time didn’t get it out of your systems?”

  I turned to find Trip grinning like an idiot. “Don’t be a jealous asshole. Someday you’ll find a woman you don’t have to pay.”

  “Ha. Ha. Very funny, dickhead. Now come on and get your asses on the bus. We’ve been waiting for twenty minutes on you two so we could head out.”

  I nodded to him. “All right. We’re coming. Simmer down, saucy.”

  He flipped me off and headed for the bus. I turned back to Lane. “Come on, before he gets his panties in a bunch.”

  Once inside, it was good to see nothing had changed. All the guys were present and accounted for. Tyke and Trip busied themselves with restocking the kitchen with supplies, while Riff talked on his cell with a stack of Oreos in front of him. With my girl at my side, all things were right with the world. Everyone that mattered, with the exception of my mom, was here on this bus.

  Lane kissed my cheek, and I watched her with a huge smile on my face head towards the bedroom to settle in.

  Tyke handed me a beer from across the island. “Good break? I see that sappy grin.”

  I twisted off the cap. “Don’t hate.”

  Tyke held his hands up palms up. “I’m not. It’s just going to be weird around here with both you and Riff settled down and all.”

  The liquid in my mouth nearly strangled me. “Riff?” I peered over at my friend sitting at the table wearing a goofy grin while he talked quietly on the phone. “With who?”

  Tyke gave me a pointed look. “Lane’s friend, Aubrey. Who else?”

  My eyebrows rose. “Realllllly? Wow. I thought they just hooked up.”

  He shrugged. “Apparently he spent the entire break with her in New York, and he’s been on the phone with her now for the last hour.”

  “Huh.” I was shocked. My best friend was a totally the bag ‘em and leave ‘em type. The only person he’d ever had a long-term relationship with was Sophie, and even that had only lasted two months before she claimed to have slept with me, but he never acted like he was smitten with her. There must’ve been something about Aubrey that hooked him. For as long as I had known him, I’d never seen that happen before.

  Tyke chugged the rest of his beer and then tossed it in the trash. “Did you hear Attack Jacket dropped off the rest of the tour?”

  “What? When did this happen and why am I just now hearing about this?”

  “Try getting a landline out in that no man’s land you live in. We couldn’t get a hold of you.”

  “Well who did the labe
l get to cover?”

  Tyke cocked his head. “Who does the label always get to cover?”

  Fuck me. Shit. Shit. Shit. Not that asshole. Now his little scheme to get Lane to work for him was starting to make sense. He knew he was going to be around her and planned on using it for an excuse.

  Damn his sneaky ass.

  This was so not good. Striker needed to know Lane was off limits. If I slapped a huge carat of commitment on her finger, he sure as hell would take the hint to back the fuck off.

  The perfect proposal was just going to have to be skipped. When I got a minute away, I was going to buy a ring and ask her the first chance I got.

  Chapter 8

  The next night Lane and I were backstage while Embrace the Darkness wrapped up their set. I never had a problem with them opening for us before, not until their frontman, Striker, tried to put the moves on my girl. Now, it was eating me alive I was so agitated by it.

  The crowd loved them, screaming and interacting with the band. Women seemed to go crazy for the long-haired British front man. He got nearly as may panties tossed at him as Riff and I.

  “Goodnight, Nashville!” Striker screamed over the microphone before he waved and exited the stage towards us.

  The moment his eyes locked on Lane, a grin broke out of his face. “Lane, it’s good to see you. I’m excited to see what that marketing brain of yours comes up with for the line.”

  “Thank you for the opportunity. It’ll look great on my resume,” Lane answered.

  “No problem, love.” He smiled at her.

  My jaw muscle clenched. I hated when he called her that and didn’t care if it was part of his British slang. It seemed too personal. And that smile. I was ready to knock it off his face.

  As if on cue, Lane’s cell phone rang with her special “Your mother’s calling” ringtone. “I’m sorry. I have to take this.”

  She stepped away from to take the call privately. I watched Striker’s eyes follow her, and I felt my blood boil beneath my skin. “I’m on to you.”

  He snapped his gaze back to me and smirked. “Oh, yeah? Better be on your bloody toes then, mate.”

  My eyes narrowed, and I closed the gap between us. “Watch it, fucker. I didn’t get to finish the job last time.”

  Striker tipped his head up and stared at me. “It wasn’t quite a fair fight last time. Let’s see you try it when my back isn’t turned.”

  Air rushed through my nostrils as I took a huge breath. Adrenaline flowed through my veins. This guy needed ended.

  “Hey!” Lane’s voice rang in my ears as she shoved between us. “What’s going on here?”

  Striker stepped back. “Ask your boyfriend,” he said before turning and walking away. “Lane, we’ll be in touch.”

  She furrowed her brow at me the moment Striker was out of earshot. “What the hell, Noel? You promised.”

  She started to storm away, but I caught her arm. “Wait, Lane. I’m sorry, but the things he was saying—”

  “Don’t mean a thing! Regardless of his intentions, you need to trust me. Have faith in my love for you.”

  My heart pounded in my chest as I dropped her arm and allowed her to walk away. She was right. Relationships were built on trust, and I sure as hell didn’t want to crumble mine by being an overbearing control freak.

  I ran my fingers through my hair as I watched her leave.

  “Ten minutes, Mr. Falcon,” the stage manager said as he walked by me.

  “Okay. Yeah,” I answered numbly as a thousand thoughts of how I nearly just screwed over my relationship with Lane went through my mind.

  It was hard for me to focus my entire set. On our fourth song, I screwed up the lyrics. Riff’s gaze whipped in my direction, and he crinkled his brow. Fighting with Lane always fucked with my head. I needed to get my shit together.

  The crowd roared as I belted out the chorus of the last song. Sweat dripped down my face and back as I ran to each side of the stage and hyped them up. Their fists pumped in the air to the beat pounded out by Trip. The stage lights beamed down on me as I gripped the mic and sang one last note of Ball Busting Bitch, our biggest hit so far.

  The drums got a few more kicks and then silence took over. “Thank you, Nashville!”

  I wiped my face with a white towel and tossed it into the crowd. It landed about fifteen feet into the crowd and instantly the shoving began. It always puzzled me why people would fight over a towel covered in my sweat.

  Riff threw his arm around my neck as I walked off stage. “What’s up, buddy? Want to talk about it?”

  Sometimes I hated how he knew when shit was on my mind. Riff had always been the guy in the band I went to when things were on my mind, and I could tell him anything. But it was hard to admit hard to admit to him that I was still having woman problems. I was sure he was sick of hearing this from me by now.

  Finally I shook my head. “Nah, man it’s cool. Just a little off tonight, you know.”

  He dropped his arm from around my shoulders. “Okay, but if you need to talk, you know where to find me.”

  “Thanks, but really, I’m cool.” There was no need to drag him into this mess.

  Once he was convinced I was good, he took off. Normally I would’ve said he was off to find his random groupie for the night, but from what I’d heard, Riff seemed to be really into Aubrey and I wondered if he would find a girl for the night. I guess we’d see just how serious he was about Lane’s friend.

  After I fought my way through the fans, I advised Kyle to take a break for the rest of the evening. I needed to talk things over with Lane, preferably alone.

  The bus was quiet. The rest of the guys were still out living down the high of being on stage. Sometimes it was tough to work off all of that adrenaline without blowing off a little steam. My go-to relief used to be the arms of random women. But those days were nothing but a distant memory, ones I would love to forget.

  “Lane?” I called down the hall. “Are you in here?”

  When she didn’t answer, I panicked. Where could she be? Even though I hated myself for thinking it, the first place or person she might’ve been with was Striker. She just yelled at me for not trusting her, and here I was letting crazy images of my worst fear cloud my better judgment.

  The foxholes were empty. So far, I didn’t see another soul on this bus.

  The bedroom door was partially closed. With a slightly shaky hand, I pushed it open. There was no sign of her. The bed was still perfectly made, and our luggage was still zipped up tight.

  I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck. When was I ever going to stop fucking up with this girl?

  Behind me, the bus door closed with a thud. I whirled around, and my gaze landed on Lane. Her green eyes were puffy, like she’d been crying since the last moment I had seen her. Without thinking about it, I made a beeline for her. I wrapped my arms around her tiny waist and buried my face in her dark curls. She sobbed as she threw her arms around my neck and held onto me just as hard as I held on to her.

  “I’m so sorry, Lane. I trust you—I do—but Striker just gets under my skin. The things he was insinuating about you…It’s him I don’t trust, but I need to learn to trust that you’d knee him square in the balls if he tried shit with you.”

  She laughed at my lame attempt to be funny while I apologized. “I’m sorry too. I should always have your side, and I’m sorry I didn’t give you a chance to explain yourself. I won’t take the job if bothers you that much.”

  I pulled back and cupped her face. “No. Take the job. I’ll try harder to be understanding and trust your judgment.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered before I kissed her lips and proceeded to finish making it up to her.

  Chapter 9

  After Lane had gone to bed, I had spent the better part of the night searching engagement rings. There were tons of really fancy rings, but for some reason, the simplistic styles spoke to me the most. They were the ones that practically screamed Lane at me. I wanted a very classi
c two-carat diamond ring set in white gold

  First thing in the morning, I called the local jeweler and told him exactly what I wanted, and they assured me they could hook me up. After that, I texted Kyle and told him I would need his help distracting Lane. When he asked why, I answered with the truth. If anyone would understand what it was like to really be in love with someone, it was Kyle.

  After he agreed, Lane and I headed out with him for a little shopping. She wanted a new pair of sandals, and I had my mission to somehow covertly buy the ring. Sales people were always eager to please.

  “It’s nice to feel normal for a change,” Lane said while she sat next to me in the back of the Escalade.

  Kyle laughed from the front. “You mean getting chased by hoards of screaming women isn’t normal? After only being here a few weeks, I was starting to believe that was the norm.”

  “Hang around Black Falcon long enough, and it definitely does become an everyday occurrence,” she teased.

  I rolled my eyes. As much as I didn’t like it, there was truth in their words. It was very difficult to feel normal and not allow the day in and day out fame to rush to my head. When the band took off, I almost felt invincible, like no one could touch me or hurt me. I was on top of the world, and everybody wanted me.

  Well, not the people I really wanted to want me like Lane and my own father.

  My head slunk against the seat. Every time my thoughts focused on my father my spirits always came down. Why didn’t he love me? Was having a dream so wrong that you wished your only son had never been born?

  Well according to my asshole father, the answer was yes.

  The night Lane dumped my ass out on the dock, I was a wreck. I destroyed my room and smashed my guitar. All of it meant nothing without her. She was my world, even back then, and without her, it was a very dark place. Dad had no sympathy for me. In fact, he even voiced how smart Lane had been to get rid of a loser like me before I ruined her life.

  That hurt, but the crushing blow came when he said he regretted having me at all. To hear my own parent express pure hatred for me was something I would never forget. Lane had broached the subject of making up with my father for my mother’s sake, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.