So I Married a Rockstar (19 page)

"He is," I say, cutting him off mid-rant. "The fact is, he is the
last
concert promoter who is willing to even consider booking you."

He glares off into a far corner.

"That's fucking great, Lauren," Jake says, grinning at everyone. "What's the big deal? He was kind of a jerk but whatever. I say we do it."

Savory doesn't look convinced. He gives me a knowing look, and asks, "What's he want? No way is that dude just going to book us out of the goodness of his heart. He wants something. What is it?"

Drax's gaze returns to me, and I can practically feel it on my skin, warming me. Not in the way I want, exactly, but beggars can't be choosers.

"Me."

I don't dare look at Drax but out of the corner of my eye, I can see him tense.
 

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" he spits.
 

Seriously? He's acting jealous? Don't get me wrong, I don't hate the idea of him being jealous -- and that appalls me just a little -- but he can't act like I'm his property or something.

"In exchange for booking you, he wants me to go back to work for him," I spit back.
 

Silence settles over the group. Jake breaks it as only Jake could. "Does that mean you won't be our manager anymore?"

Duh
, I want to say, but only because I'm already stressed out and irritable. I nod instead.
 

"Nuh uh, that's bullshit," Frank says. "You can't go back to work for that douchenozzle. Besides, we're a team."

My heart swells at his words, as crass as they are. There's nothing quite like feeling appreciated.
 

"That's sweet, Frank, but we won't be a team if you guys split up."

"Jesus," Savory snorts. "It's like Sophie's-fucking-Choice! Take the gig and lose you. Don't take the gig and break up."

Drax has been sitting like a stone statue, just staring at me. I have no idea what he's thinking but my heart does flip flops and I very nearly lose myself in his eyes again. Dang, that's so easy to do! But I have more to say, now that the hook is set.

"Actually, there is another option."

The mumbling and grumbling stop and all eyes turn to me, eager to hear what will get them out of this mess.
 

"I've made a few inquiries, scratched together a few ideas, and I think I have an interesting idea."

I pull out a very rough sketch Papi drew and hand it to Drax. "It's called the 'Route 666 Tour'. We drive the entire length of Route 66, or what's left of it, from Santa Monica to Chicago. We stop every couple nights and perform at any little podunk venue that'll take us. I've called a handful of hip spots and they all gave me a tentative yes."

"And what if they say no?" Savory asks.

"Then we set up in a park or something. We can easily get permits in most small towns -- Marvin doesn't have that much pull -- and even if we can't, holding illegal concerts just adds to Roadkill's bad boy mystique."

"I don't get it," Jake says, scratching his head. Literally. Scratching his head. "How's this supposed to help?"

"It's brilliant," Drax mutters, the tiniest hint of a smile playing at his lips. "Marvin's trying to ice us out. The longer we go without a gig, the faster we'll be forgotten. But if we do a grassroots tour, focusing on the fans and not the money or the prestige big venues offer, they'll come in droves."

He gets it! He gets
me!
 

"Exactly! We waive our fee so the venues keep the ticket prices low, as a thank you to your loyal fans. They spread the word and, hopefully, the tour will go viral, for lack of a better term. Merch sales will more than make up for lost ticket revenue, and the goodwill it'll generate should get us back in the graces of the bigger venues."

The discussion goes on for quite a while, working out details, potential problems, and possible opportunities. Relief washes over me that they're as excited as I am. I half-expected them to take Harry's offer because it was a sure thing. I would have been crushed but I also would have understood.

"I just have one more question," Drax says, catching my gaze. "Does that mean you've decided you want to stay with us?"

I know what he's really asking. He wants to know if I've made a decision about
us
, not Roadkill. Up until this moment, I was still trying to figure it all out, but watching his face light up over a tour where he'd make next to nothing but would thrill his fans clenched it for me. Draymond Maxwell may be an arrogant, bossy show-off, but there's nothing more in the world I want than for him to be
my
arrogant, bossy show-off.

"With all my heart."

The cocoon-like warmth of my slumber peels away, layer by layer, until I'm floating in a hazy gray lake of heat. Low pulses of red and white flash behind my eyes as my heart increases its tempo. I squirm with need, inadvertently grinding my ass into something hard and hot. A low moan in my ear draws me closer to the surface and my eyelids flutter open.

I'm in the back bedroom of the bus, nude, and Drax is spooning me in the most filthy and delightful manner. One hand is playfully tweaking the tips of my breasts while the other explores farther south. Without even being aware of it, I've spread my legs to grant him better access. Apparently, I'm running on pure animal instinct.

I grind against him again, earning another moan, this one louder than before. Still fuzzy from sleep, I tip my head back and our lips lock. There's no talking because there's no need. We're together, we're in love -- at least, I'm pretty sure I am -- and fucking like bunnies is expected. And I'll have to say, I've never been awakened in a more pleasurable way.

Drax drags my leg over his thighs and uses his fingers to spread me open and guide himself to my entrance. My body is more than ready for him and I wonder how long he's been warming me up. Long enough, that's for sure, because he slides into me easily and all the way to the hilt.

I cry out into his mouth, his tongue absorbing the noise. He fills me so completely that I already feel the pressure building inside me. Relentlessly, he thrusts into me from behind, his fingers playing me like his guitar until all the light in the world compresses into a single bright pinpoint behind my eyelids. Then it explodes.

I'm still pulsing around him when his guttural moan turns into his own cry of ecstasy. Waves of heat wash over me with each diminishing thrust, until we're a mass of glistening skin and entwined limbs, wrapped in our love.

"Good morning," he pants in my ear.
 

I barely have enough breath to laugh or strength to roll over in his embrace, but I manage both. "Boy, I'll say it is."

He grins and pulls me closer. "Sorry, but you were tucked up into me, all soft and curvy and gorgeous...I couldn't resist."

"You have my permission to wake me up like that every damn day, got it?"
 

"Don't tempt me, Lola," he growls.
 

"Promises, promises," I tease.

After the band meeting last night, we talked for hours while the rest of the band went out to celebrate our new plan of action. Wanting a little more privacy than what we could get at my dads' place or on the boat -- his parents' West Coast racing yacht, as it turns out -- we ended up at the lot where the band's bus is stored. Strictly speaking, overnight guests aren't allowed, but a $20 bill slipped to the night watchman ensured we wouldn't be evicted.

As much as I wanted to jump his bones right then and there, we had a lot to work out first. For starters, what he was doing with his ex the other day.

As it turns out, Drax wasn't expecting Shelby to show up with his parents. They arranged that without his knowledge, and he wasn't thrilled about it. Seeing her in Las Vegas only confirmed his belief that she'd done him a favor by dumping him back in the day. In fact, after I saw him in the Mission that night, he told her there was no future for them, even if they both ended up in New York. And now that everyone is on board with the Route 666 Tour, New York is off the table.
 

I also shared my concerns about losing myself to the lifestyle and that, if he wanted to be with me, he had to be with Lauren, not Lola. "Who do you think I fell for?," he asked, then guided me to the bedroom and made love to me all night.
 

And this morning.
 

Snuggling into the crook of his neck, I breathe him in. It's a heady mix of cloves and sex that gets my motor purring. Even after a passion-filled reunion last night, and this morning's sunrise edition, I still can't get enough of him.
 

Lazily, I skim my hand along the hard planes of his back, down to his tight rump. I've never touched an ass that firm before -- I've only touched one other one, and it was less-than-impressive -- and I can't seem to stop. I could touch him forever and never grow tired of it.

When he twitches against my thigh, I twitch inside. I know guys usually require some time to recoup but I can't wait. It's a primal need, something deep down that demands to be claimed by him immediately.

Skimming around to the front, my fingers wrap around his girth. I search out his lips for a soul-deep kiss while I squeeze and release and pet and stroke, urging him to hurry up already. It's working.

Breaking away, he looks at me in a daze. "Again? I had no idea you were such an animal."

"Shut up and fuck me."

"Yes, ma'am!"

My phone buzzes on the tiny nightstand, drawing me out of my nearly-catatonic, post-sex drowse. I fumble for it and almost drop it before punching the right glowy thing on the screen.

"Hmm?" I'm too drained to care how unprofessional it sounds.
 

It's Savory, and he doesn't sound happy. "Jake's been arrested."

That sure as hell wakes me up. "What?!"

"I guess he got trashed and made a mess of some bar after I left him last night. The cops were called and he's in the drunk tank now. They said he'd be ready to pick up about now."

"Shit! How much damage?"

Drax stirs next to me.

"I've already talked to the bar owner. He agreed to not press charges or send us the repair bill if we comp him a show."

I let out a sigh of relief. The band doesn't have much in the coffers and we'll need every penny to get the new tour rolling.

"But, Lauren, this has become a problem. Something needs to be done."

He's right, of course. Jake is out of control. He's a nice guy, but I've always been a bit disgusted by his drinking. I guess it just hits too close to home.

Savory tells me where to collect Jake and rings off. Drax is fully awake by now so I give him all the dirty details and we come up with a plan. Three hours later, we're all on the boat, poor Jake looking like death and smelling even worse.
 

"We can't have it, Jake," Savory is saying. "We need to be able to rely on you and, right now, we can't."

"I'm fine, guys," he insists but it's easy to see that even he doesn't believe his own words.

"Jake, I've found a good place that we can take you today."
 

The look he gives me breaks my heart and disgusts me at the same time. It's sort of a 'Don't do this to me, I want to keep killing myself slowly' look. I've never understood how someone could destroy themselves so completely and do it so willingly.
 

"But..."

"Jake," Drax interrupts. His expression is hard but his tone is gentle. "It's either rehab or you're gone. Your choice, bro."

Jake gapes at him. "You'd really fire me? What the fuck, man? We're fuckin' musicians! You know, rock n' roll and all that? It's not like you have a reputation for acting like Mary-fucking-Poppins!"

Drax shakes his head. "And it's about time we all grow up and start acting like professionals."

"What about the tour?" Jake asks, grasping at straws.

"We'll wait for you, dude." Savory pats him on the shoulder.
 

"But who's gonna pay for it?" His arguments are getting weaker and weaker. "I don't got that kinda money."

"Don't worry, bro, it's taken care of," Drax says.
 

Contrary to my previous assumption, Drax is no starving artist made good. He had family money, and a lot of it. Not only did he pre-pay Jake's 28-day stay at the exclusive in-patient rehab, but he also paid for Frank's, as well as a gigantic diamond wedding ring. When I asked him this morning why he didn't just pay off Marco, he pointed out that bookies don't usually take credit cards.

"But..." Jake mumbles.

"Dude, you woke up in jail this morning, ferchrissakes," Frank says, wrapping a comforting arm around his friend's shoulders. "You have a problem. You gotta admit
that
, at least."

Jake sniffs and ducks his head. "Yeah."

"That's the first step, right there, bud! Now Drax and Lauren are gonna drive you up to the place, m'kay? We'll see you in a month, and you better be ready to rock, you got it?"

Jake smiles weakly. "Okay."

The poor guy sobs quietly in the back seat the whole way up to the rehab center my dad recommended. Drax tries to give him encouragement but Jake's too wrapped up and wiped out to hear much of anything. It's touching to see how much Drax cares for his bandmate. A lot of guys would have just fired the kid, but Drax is putting him through a pricey rehab.
 

My stomach knots up as we get closer to the facility. I've never been to this one but I've seen enough to know they're all pretty much the same. Some are fancier than others but they all serve the same noble, if often futile, purpose. Growing up, I learned to hate them all for their failure in curing my mother. It was a heckuva lot easier to hate the institution than to hate the patient.

Although that came, too.

I shake away the painful memories as we pull up to the facility's main entrance. It's a beautiful Greek revival building, complete with ivy growing halfway up the brick walls. The landscaping is perfect and the overall tone is serene.
 

Stepping out of the car, I catch quiet snippets of classical music outside. If I didn't know any better, I might be lulled into thinking everything was going to be okay. It seems to work on Jake because he's stopped sobbing and seems almost eager to get inside.