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Redemption: A Rockstar Romance (The Rock Legend Series Book 2) Page 13
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“I think that might be why we stopped sharing hotel rooms on tour,” she says. “You didn’t want to give up eggs, and I didn’t want to be exposed to your silent but deadlies.”
“I didn’t tell you that taking Gas-X solved my problem, because I liked having a room to myself, especially when I wanted to watch Scandal and you didn’t.”
“Now you might have to share a room with me and Brody on tour.” She teases.
“Not likely since I overstepped some major boundaries with him a few minutes ago. He might hate me now.”
“Brody could never hate you, Alyssa. I love you, so ergo, he loves you, too.”
I gaze into her eyes as steadily as I can after having consumed a pitcher of Margaritas (with double shots of top shelf liquor per pint of mixer) on my own. “I’m sorry, Sky. You are nothing like your mother. It’s possible you got all your redeeming qualities from your father. Asian people are generally less bitchy than us Americans.”
“I beg to differ. Have you seen Crazy Rich Asians? Those Chinese Mean Girls operate on a Godfather tip. They make the American version look like unhappy toddlers. Apology accepted,” she says. I’m surprised she didn’t call me on my sweeping generalization, but Sky never really does. She’s the one person who accepts me as I am with zero judgment. I’m a November baby and my default setting for most people stays on “mildly annoyed.” Except for her and a select few other people in my life.
“We’re gonna have to watch that together. Bet?” I say. I hop down off my bar stool and go in for a hug and a sloppy kiss on the cheek. Sky indulges me, even though I know she prefers PDA from Brody, not her drunk best friend, who’s been a mess since Dylan Castle made me think there was something real between us. I met his mother two months after we met for goodness sake, and the man really knows how to lay pipe. Oh my God! I promised myself not to think about how great the sex was between us, but the mind wanders when it’s impaired by alcohol.
“Bet.” Sky agrees. “Come on. Let’s go see what Della’s cooked up for us, hmm?” She takes my hand and leads me out of the den and into the kitchen. Brody joins us a few minutes later, and we sit down to the best lunch I’ve had in days.
The food at Naveah wasn’t all that, but I didn’t turn it down, because I was trying to be polite. And they preferred I didn’t take Jacob out to eat, because he was kind of on house arrest until he got his assigned person to shadow him everywhere. I think they were afraid he would be tempted to order a drink if we went out somewhere.
“Brody,” I say after we’ve eaten silently for a few minutes. “You know you don’t have to listen to your girlfriend’s best friend when she’s trying to tell you anything, especially when she’s drinking a whole pitcher of margaritas, right?”
Brody chuckles. “If that’s your sad attempt at an apology, accepted.”
Sky does that thing where she’s sharing unspoken communications with him across the table. I put her out of her misery and answer her unspoken question.
“I said some stuff to Brody that I shouldn’t have about giving up on performing, and I’m sorry, especially because he didn’t ask for my opinion on the subject.”
“Oh,” Sky says. “You’ve been in rare form today.”
I take another bite of whatever it is Della has prepared us for lunch. I can’t identify it, but it’s good. “Yes. I have, and when I’m done eating, can I sleep in my guest room tonight? You know I’m not like Jacob. I’m not a worthless drunk, so I won’t drive when I’m drunk.”
“Yes, of course,” Sky says. “Your regular room is always ready.”
“Okay.” I say, and I eat every bite on my plate. Only then do I allow Sky and Brody to help me up the stairs. Although, I am tiny by average standards, I can hold my liquor, so there’s no fear that I’ll be worshipping the porcelain god in the wee hours of the morning, but I will likely have a nice hangover.
Brody discreetly leaves us alone when I plop down on my designated guest bed so Sky can help me out of my clothes. The bed is a welcome respite for my travel-weary, heartbroken soul. Visiting Jacob always takes it out of me, because although I know he’s probably going to disappoint me yet again, I always adopt a stance of muted hope. Truthfully, my bender was only partly about Dylan, but it was the largest part. Even though drinking helps me forget him in my waking hours, Dylan always invades my dreams, and I am barely into REM sleep before he does just that.
Four
Flushing, NY / Bronx, NY
About A Year Ago
ALYSSA
Meeting Dylan Castle in the middle of all the crazy stalker shit happening on the Tour was a godsend for me. Everyone else was on edge, but I was kind of Zen when I met the drummer with the messy dirty blonde hair and full sleeves of tattoos adorning his perfect muscular arms. My memories of meeting him and my dreams line up almost perfectly.
My heart skipped a beat when Dylan stood to greet Sky and me like a perfect gentleman, but I’d read enough about The Savages to know that he was the biggest man-whore of the bunch. Despite my prior knowledge of his past, when his eyes landed on me, it was as if his demeanor immediately switched from barely interested to an inexplicable recognition. He smiled a genuine smile that wasn’t the lascivious smile of a man who was simply trying to score; it was like the serene smile of a man who’d already done so, had the obligatory cigarette afterwards—and had taken me to meet his mama.
When he took my hand and kissed it, my knees quaked because it was as if he were saying, ‘please have my babies, my queen,’ but what he actually said was, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Alyssa. I’m Dylan.”
“Hey, Dylan.” I kept my cool. Barely. I flashed him a semi-coy smile that I hope didn’t make me seem too eager.
He held my hand and my gaze, while the rest of the band introduced themselves, and before The Savages left the Charity Event, Dylan and I had exchanged phone numbers.
Having a man show interest and actually follow up on it is a rare occurrence for me, so by the time we had our first real date, we’d been talking regularly, blowing up our cell phones with texts and meeting up whenever we could elude the security detail, and sneaking him into my hotel rooms.
Security was tight because someone had made an attempt on Sky’s life, and mine by association. I handle stress differently from most. I use comedy to take the edge off, while my friends brood. It also helps that I’d met someone who really seemed to get me for once. It was liberating.
Malik, or the extra bodyguards he’d hired, were sticking to me and Sky like glue since the lights almost squashed us at the Philly concert, so it’d been hard as fuck sneaking around with Dylan since we met at the Charity Gala in Minnesota. Going on a public date with Sky and Brody would make it easier for Dylan and me to get together once the bodyguards saw he wasn’t a threat.
On our first free day in a while, Brody set up a surprise for Sky which he’d graciously let me in on because Sky and I had made plans which he wanted to change. I wasn’t particular about his plans as long as they included one hot as fuck drummer in the mix.
As agreed, I waited fifteen minutes after Brody returned to his and Sky’s hotel room to text her so she’d snap out of her funk and get moving. I understood how an attempt on your life could make you skittish, but I refused to let that light malfunction, which could have killed us but didn’t, keep me from living my best life.
Get up or I’ll throttle you, woman. I need to get out of this hotel NOW!
Malik, Sky, Brody, and I rode together, as always. While the security detail tailed us to provide additional coverage, if needed.
The half hour drive from Flushing culminated with us exiting at a sign that said, “The Bronx Zoo,” and Sky’s face lit up like Christmas, but I quietly donned a knowing smirk.
“A zoo?” Sky asked.
“What’s wrong with the zoo?” Brody responded, looking between Sky and me. “I have it on good authority that you both like animals.”
“Hey, guys!” Dylan yelled and did a two-armed abov
e the head wave from the entrance at us like we might miss him, but there was no way I could. I’d spent too many days and nights thinking about his fine ass to not notice him now that we were seeing each other in the flesh again.
“Here’s another animal now,” Brody joked.
It was difficult for me to maintain my chill when I saw Dylan. Our long conversations by phone, and massive strings of texts are nothing like beholding the real thing. Sky gave me a look that said “we’re going to dish about this later, chick.”
“I told you she wouldn’t be lonely,” Brody said to Sky, almost as if I weren’t there.
“Didn’t you fight with them?” Sky asked.
“Just Stephen. He’s Kim’s brother, so we’ve been at each other’s throats for a while.”
“That’s right. I forgot about that,” she said.
Dylan told me the story behind Stephen and Brody’s tension. Stephen blamed Brody for his sister, Kim’s addiction and subsequent death. Unlike Stephen, I didn’t blame anyone but Jacob for his drinking. At some point we had to acknowledge our own shit.
As we walked to join Dylan at the entrance, Brody continued. “Dylan is cool. We were friends long before The Savages, so I’ve known him longer than everyone else. He can be a little forward sometimes, but he’s a good guy.”
“Better be,” Malik said, “or he’ll be missing a limb that I’ll throw to one of the lions inside.”
I was horrified by Malik’s malevolence toward Dylan, but I didn’t need his over-protective ass ruining my fun times. We’d have to have a conversation about that eventually. But right then, I was low-key ogling Dylan like a fat kid in a cupcake store. He cuts a nice figure in his fitted Henley and a pair of jeans, adorned with a pocket chain. A pair of black boots completed his ensemble. My only regret had been not being able to see his tatts right then.
I zoned back into Brody and Sky’s conversation after getting two eyes full of Dylan.
“So you rented us a zoo?” Sky said.
Brody laughed. “I guess I did. Do you like it?”
“Hmm…I’ll love it more if you give me a piggyback ride inside.”
Sky laughed as if it was a joke but Brody leaned over. “Hop on, my beautiful Sky.”
Sky jumped up on his back and I challenged Dylan, “I know you’re not going to have me walk inside while my bestie’s getting the royal treatment.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Dylan said and hoisted me right onto his back, where I wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders. Somebody certainly worked out because…muscles!
Brody and Dylan raced through the entrance, the ticket taker shrugged when they carried us through the turnstile. Sky stuck her tongue out at me playfully and I stuck my thumbs into my ears and made a face back at her.
We clowned like this for a few minutes, using Brody and Dylan as our beasts of burden. Sky and I didn’t have the type of childhoods we deserved so this was special to us both. When the guys got winded, we hopped down and walked through the exhibits coupled up, with Malik leading our rag-tag bunch, and the security guys trailing us.
When we decided to split up, I was glad Malik and one bodyguard stuck with Brody and Sky. I didn’t think he’d been serious about tossing one of Dylan’s limbs to the animals, but I was happy we had just the one bodyguard who was less likely to do so, trailing Dylan and me discreetly.
Dylan reached out and took my hand as we strolled and it felt way more intimate for us to be connected in that way. Walking with my arm linked through his was a poor substitute—just like talking on the phone and texting was a sad facsimile for personal contact.
“So, out of all the animals we’ve seen, which is your favorite?” he asked.
I didn’t have to think about my response. I grinned. “The monkeys, hands down.”
“Oh yeah, why?”
“I’ve been watching these documentary stories about Monkeys, ‘Chimpanzee’ and ‘Monkey Kingdom.’ Every time they’re on, I’m glued to the TV.”
“I think I’ve seen them. In one they follow a young chimp named Oscar, and in the other, they follow this monkey couple, where the male gets ousted from the group, right?”
“Yes! Aren’t they the coolest? Monkeys are a lot like us, and those docs paint them as playful and mischievous, strategic, and a lot of fun to watch.”
“They are, but nothing compares to the big cats. The predators.”
“You would say that.”
He faced me, and his neutral expression gave nothing away, as he said, “Is it because of my reputation?”
“It has preceded you, but no. Men in general tend to favor bigger more dangerous things.”
He seemed relieved by my answer. “Like what?”
“Big toys like fast motorcycles, cars, and boats, and big game to hunt and kill so they can mount the heads of them onto their family room walls.”
“I’ll admit I like fast motorcycles, cars and boats, and while I enjoy a good safari, I’m not into killing animals for sport or hanging their heads in my house. I prefer to hunt in the grocery store and the only thing dangerous about that is the grocery bill.”
I laughed. “You’re more of a renaissance man than a rugged outdoorsman then?”
“Exactly. I can appreciate nature, but I prefer an RV over a tent any day.”
“Me, too! There is nothing romantic for me about sleeping on the ground in a sleeping bag. Give me a few creature comforts and I’ll take that trip into rugged terrain right into the nearest RV Park.”
“So, no hikes for you up Mount Everest?”
“Hell no. I can enjoy seeing it from sea level. Thank you very much.”
“Looks like we’re a match made in high-maintenance heaven.”
“Word.”
END OF EXCERPT
AUTHOR BIO
Growing up, L.V. Lewis wanted to be an internationally known rock star, but she unfortunately lived in the wrong part of the country to pursue that career (and neither American Idol nor The Voice were available at that time) An early love for the written word gave her the “Plan B” she needed. Now, she pens romance novels that let her live vicariously through rock stars and other fascinating archetypes.
Learn more about L.V. Lewis at: https://lvlewis.blog .
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