My Rock #3 (The Rock Star Romance Series - Book #3) (2 page)

That’s where
I
had gone
wrong.
I
knew that when you started fucking one girl
all the time she started thinking that she was your girlfriend and making
subtle changes in your life. It all starts messing with your head. There’s only
one head
I
wanted in my ‘relationships’ and that’s the
one in my pants.

“Hey there, beautiful,”
I
said, taking the seat next to the blonde. If
I
remembered correctly, her name was Brooke or something like that. “How are you
doing tonight?”

She giggled. Giggling really annoyed
me
, but for a C cup or better, I was willing to endure a
little of it—as long as she ended up putting out.
I
usually got a certain vibe from a girl who might be willing. This one was
putting that out all over the place.

“Hi,” she said, flashing her dimples. “I’m a nervous
wreck about today,” she said with another giggle, “What about you? How are you
doing?”

I
gave her my coolest look and said, “Nah, I got this.” Then
I
raked my eyes across her body and said, “I’m sure you got it too.”

“You think so?”

“Sure, baby, you’ve got a gorgeous voice. It’s
hot—like the rest of you.”

Another round of giggling ensued. I honestly had no
idea
what
her voice sounded like.
I
did my best to tune the rest of them out; if you started worrying about the
competition, it just fucked with your head.

“I like your voice, too,” she said. “Everybody does.
My older sister told me she used to be in love with you when she was in middle
school.”

I
gave her the once over again and said, “If your big sister looks anything like
you, then I hope she’s still in love with me.”

She
blushed
a little, but
then she said, “She’s pretty, but kind of old. She turned thirty last week.”

“I’ve always liked the little sisters best,
anyways,”
I
told her. As we talked more, she put out
all of the signs that said she was ready, willing, and able to fuck. She flipped
her hair over her shoulder and made a point to sit up straighter so her tits
pointed up at
me
. She got up at one point to get
something to drink and she had a little extra wiggle in her hips.

As
I
watched her delicious
ass walk across the room, I caught Elly’s eye. She was watching
me
watch Brooke, and she didn’t look happy about it. Good.
Let her fucking sweat. It’s the least she deserves for walking out on
me
in the middle of a fucking blow job. Who does that? There
was no way she was going to leave
me
with blue balls
and get another chance. It’s true what they say about there being plenty of
fish in the sea, and
I
had got the perfect bait.

When Brooke came back,
I
turned my body towards hers as we talked so that my back was to Elly.
I
wanted to make a point to her that I didn’t care if she
was watching me or not.
I
did what I wanted to do, and
no woman was going to tell me different.

“So, Brooke…you have a boyfriend?”

“No, no boyfriend,” she said, leaning into
me
.

I
tried to look as sincere as possible as I said, “That’s hard to imagine.
There’s something wrong with a world where girls who look like you are single.
You have to be single by choice. Most guys probably just don’t measure up.”

She batted her long eyelashes at
me
and said, “That’s sweet. You’re
pretty nice
to look at
yourself. I like being single, I like to be able to do what I want.” Score! “Do
you have a girlfriend?”

I
could see Elly out of the corner of my eye all of a sudden. She’d stepped over
to the refreshment table. She was pretending to get something to drink, but
I
knew she was just trying to see what was going on with
Brooke and me. Her obvious jealousy was
really pathetic
.
I
reached up and slid my finger slowly down the curve
of Brooke’s cheek and whispered, “Thanks.
I
don’t have
a girlfriend. I like to do who—I mean what—I want too.”
I
grinned.

She blushed then and licked her lips.
I
really thought they were just dry, but it was sexy. She
had nice, full lips. That night at the bar, it had been what
I
’d
noticed first about Elly.
I
was picturing Elly’s lips
suddenly…remembering the way she tasted….

“What are you thinking?” she asked.
I
realized that I’d phased out. It was unlike
me
to think about another woman when I had a prime one on
the hook.

“I was just thinking about how lucky I was to be
sitting here talking to you.
I
think you’re hot and
you said I’m not so bad looking either. You look good, I look good, I was just
thinking about how good we’d look together.”
I
traced
a line down her cheek again with my finger. She leaned into it. Oh yea, she
wanted
me
….bad.
I
could still
see Elly looking.
I
don’t think she could hear what we
were saying, but I’m sure she got the basic idea that we were working on
hooking up.

A few minutes later, Elly’s little partner called
those of us left in the room to line up. We got in our places and, to
my
eyes delight, Brooke’s sweet ass was right in front of
me. As Elly walked up,
I
made sure to give it another
appreciative glance.

I
waited until she was standing right next to us and I said to Brooke, “So, are
we going to hook up and hang out sometime outside of this place?
Somewhere more private, where we can really get to know each
other.”

She flipped her blonde head around to look
me
in the eye and she said, “I’d like that.”

“
Gimme
your phone,”
I
told her. She handed it to
me
; I
looked at Elly and gave her a little half smile before putting my number in
Brooke’s phone. She turned her head and walked away, but not before
I
made sure that she heard me say, “Call me anytime you’re
up for some fun. I’ll show you how friendly our city can be.”

If looks could kill, Elly would have set
me
on fire with the one she gave me.

CHAPTER
THREE

ELLY

Tristan was being an ass; not sure why that
surprised
me
. He seemed to purposely look right at
me
while he was hitting on that Brooke girl.
I
turned my head as quickly as I could, but I think he
probably saw the look on my face when I heard him tell her they’d ‘have some
fun’; it wasn’t a pleasant look.
I
had long ago
discovered that I’d been cursed with a face that belied my every thought.

I
was supposed to be working the front of the line, sending them out on stage
when it was their turn.
I
took my place and as I stood
there, I watched Molly rearrange the line according to her list. She had
Tristan go in front of Brooke. He must be performing first. That was good; at
least
I
wouldn’t have to watch him stare at her butt.
He wasn’t the least bit subtle about it. Of course
I
wonder if he was trying not to be.
I
’m sure he was
pretty pissed off at me for walking out the way I did, before he’d had a chance
to get any relief. That night,
I
’d honestly not even
considered it.

He flirted with the blonde bombshell until it was
finally his turn.
I
was glad that he had to go out on
the stage. They were making
me
nauseated. They called
his name into
my
headset and I said, “Tristan, you’re
up.” I felt my voice quake a little and I was relieved that it sounded steadier
than it
felt
.

Tristan looked at Brooke and, just
like
he had said to me that first day, he said, “How about a
kiss for luck?” She was happy to oblige. It was a closed mouth kiss, but it was
a kiss nonetheless. Afterwards, he turned back towards me and, with a smile, he
walked right past me like I was invisible, strutting onto the stage
like
he owned it.

As disgusted as
I
was with
him, I had to admit that he looked like he owned it. He was born to be a
performer. Some people just had that star quality.
I
really believed that if he would stay sober, he could end up being a superstar.
I
wondered why he couldn’t see that.

I
looked back over at Brooke as the sound of Tristan’s voice began to waft
through the speakers. He was nailing it…again.
 
It was a beautiful song that I’d never heard
before.
I
wondered if he had written it. It was a love
song with an upbeat tempo, something similar to Van Morris’s
Brown Eyed Girl
but still completely
original. Brooke was watching him
like
I knew that I
did when he sings, with a reverent expression on her face. She turned to the
girl behind her, a contestant named Hayley, and in an almost breathless voice
she said, “Oh my God, he’s amazing.”

The other girl smiled and nodded; Brooke looked back
out at Tristan. She looked like she was having a hard time catching her breath.
I
knew that she was going to call him, and before the
night was over, she’d very likely be in his bed.
I
really wished it didn’t bother me so badly.

I
felt sick to my stomach.
I
tried to deny since day one
that I felt anything for him other than lust, but it was suddenly apparent that
I was feeding myself a line of bullshit.
I
wasn’t just
pissed that he was using drugs—I cared that he was. I cared that every time he
used, he took a chance on accidentally killing himself
like
my late boyfriend did.
I
wasn’t just pissed that he
was hitting on other girls—I hurt because of it.
I
really hated the thought of him being with anyone but me.
I
had feelings for him, and while I was telling myself that I didn’t, they were
getting stronger.

The thing that didn’t make any sense at all was
that, on
my
list of things I didn’t want when it came
to a relationship; a druggie was right up there at the top. Of all the men
I
could have gotten myself involved with, I picked one that
has a drug problem. A psychologist would have had a field day with
me
.

I
looked out towards the stage. He was so comfortable up there, and his voice was
spot-on, pitch perfect. Even angry and disgusted with him,
my
heart swelled when I looked at him.
My
mother was
right: I felt myself wanting to save him.
I
also
wanted to tell myself that there was definitely something there worth saving.
How could the world not be a better place with Tristan singing his beautiful
songs? The big question that
I
needed to ask myself
was whether he’d let me try to save him or if he’d just tell me to fuck off.

He hit the last note of his song high and hard, and
when he finished and looked towards the judges,
I
could see that he didn’t just think he had nothing to worry about—he knew it.
They were all three on their feet, applauding him. They rarely got on their
feet for a contestant—especially the grumpy record producer.

When the applause finally ceased, the country star
told him, “Just so you know man, the only reason we’re going to stop clapping
right now and sit down is because we have to move on.
 
You blew that out of the water and, if you
made a record today,
I
’d go out and buy it. I think
you’re finally starting to believe that you’re as talented as we keep telling
you.”

Tristan smiled and actually looked somewhat humbled
as he said, “Thank you. I appreciate that.” Humble was definitely not a look he
used often, if ever.

Diva went next. She wiped the tears from her
perfectly made up face and, after a dramatically long pause, she actually
yelled out, “You burnt down that stage, baby! I loved it so much; I want to
hear it again—right now!”

“Thank you,” Tristan said. That time he had an
amused look on his face.

The grumpy guy was always the one everyone worried
about. Tristan never seemed intimidated by him, but who knew what he was really
feeling
inside
. He had stood and clapped with the
other two judges, but he was now leaning back in his chair giving Tristan a
look that was impossible to interpret. When Diva stopped gushing and sat down,
he finally said, “First of all, Tristan, you look like a million bucks tonight,
congratulations on that.
Second of all
, you better get
used to seven figure numbers, because you’re going to be counting them someday.
Whether America has enough sense to crown you the winner of this competition or
not, you’re going to be a star.”