You Really Got Me (Rock Star Romance #1) (26 page)

“You knew my name.”

He smiled, eyes twinkling. “He talks about you all the time. What you did for the band, how you saved him.”

“Saved him from what?”

A knowing look took hold of his features. “From everything you just ran from.”

—

Slater tore through the greenroom. He couldn’t find Emmie anywhere.

Fuck. She did
not
leave. Christ, when he closed his eyes, he saw her expression, the shock and devastation of seeing him with Piper.

Okay, he had to get his shit together. She wouldn’t leave him.

He shouldn’t have taken so damn long, but hell, what could he do? After the interviews Piper’s manager had pulled him and Derek into a meeting, and time had gotten away.

Think
. He knew she wouldn’t watch Piper’s set. Slater pushed out the doors, stepping into the cool air. He headed for the bus. One hard knock, and Don opened the doors for him. Slater must’ve looked as freaked out as he felt, because Don just smiled and pointed upstairs.

“I told her which bunk was yours.”

“Thanks, Don.” He climbed aboard but paused at the top step, clutching the railing. “Is she okay?”

Don shrugged. “A little upset.”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks.” Shit. What had happened? He hoped like hell Piper hadn’t fucked with her. He hurried up the stairs, hunching over on the second floor thanks to the low ceiling. With anxiety driving his every step, he reached his bunk, pulled the curtain, and found her on her side, facing him, hands under his pillow, sleeping.

She looked so sweet and innocent, and his heart expanded at the sight of this pure-hearted woman he’d fallen in love with. He wanted to be worthy of her. He wouldn’t do anything to fuck up this relationship. Well, any more than he already had. What the fuck had he been thinking giving Piper any opening at all?

Hopping in, he climbed to her other side. She jolted, her eyes fluttering open. When she saw him, she looked worried. “Oh. I fell asleep.”

Drawing the curtain closed, he couldn’t help the rush of happiness coursing through him. He had her in his bunk, just as he’d fantasized for weeks. Alone with her in this tiny space, he could breathe in her fresh, sweet scent and press the full length of his body over hers. “Sorry it took so long.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.” She rolled onto her back, opening her arms for him. “I’m glad you’re here now.”

“We won’t have long. The guys’ll be boarding soon. We’re having a meeting.” He hesitated, not wanting to spoil their time together. “We got some good news tonight.” He ran his finger over the furrow between her eyes. “Hey, what’s the matter? What happened?”

“I just . . . um.”

“Talk to me, Em.”

“I saw Cooper and Pete doing lines with Piper’s guys, and Ben having a threesome in the greenroom.”

“What? Are you sure? About the coke?”

“I’ve been around this stuff a long time. I know what I saw.”

“Shit. I’ll talk to them.”

“I’ve seen this too many times before. This is how a band blows up. I’ve seen it, Slater.”

Slater. She’d called him Slater. So, he hadn’t won her back all the way.
Fuck.

“Please talk to Derek. You two have to be on the same page. And Ben with the girls . . . What’s going on? He’s not like that.”

“I think he’s got to find that out on his own. He’s living out some fantasy.”

“But . . .”

“You’re thinking about Tiana. Take her out of the equation, and is there anything wrong with what he’s doing? He’s a single guy with two willing participants.”

“No, you’re right. It just surprised me. I didn’t think he was like that.”

“Come on, you know better than anybody. Most rockers grew up in their bedrooms with a guitar in their hands and a sticky copy of
Playboy
under their beds. They didn’t date or go to parties. Suddenly, they’re onstage, and girls are dropping their panties. It takes a while—if ever—to get that out of your system.”

Thank God, she smiled. “Fortunately for me, you weren’t that guy.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

The doors whooshed open, and the bus filled with the sounds of laughter and conversation.

“So, tell me the big news.”

He didn’t know how she’d take it. It was great for the band but possibly devastating for their relationship. But what could he do? It was happening.

“Eric wants to sign us. We’ve got a record contract with Flow.”

*   *   *

The guys spread out on the two black couches, Emmie tucked in close to Slater’s side. She hadn’t said a word since he’d told her the news. Both Cooper and Pete kept in constant motion, tapping their fingers, jackhammering their legs, cracking their knuckles. Confirmation of what Emmie had told Slater.

“After we did press,” Derek said, his hair messy and stiff-looking from sweat. “Eric and John called us into a meeting.” He broke out in a big smile. “Guys, we’re getting signed.”

“Holy fucking shit,” Ben said.

Cooper pumped his fist, jumped out of his seat, and did some weird kind of dance.

“A fucking record contract.” Derek shook his head like he couldn’t believe it. His gaze caught Emmie’s, and the look of love and respect between them blew Slater away. He wanted that ease with her—that total trust.

Emmie leaned into him. “Your dad would be so proud of you.” She smiled and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “Congratulations.”

Caught in that intense force field that locked them together, he didn’t smile, didn’t even breathe. She was right. Holy shit.

I made it
.

He looked away, his heart pounding thickly. He’d made it. And his dad wouldn’t be there to see it. To live it with him. It’d been his dad’s dream—all he’d ever wanted.

Fuck, this hurts.

Pulling out his phone, he texted his mom—the closest he’d ever come to sharing this moment with his dad.
Got a record deal.

She responded immediately.
Gracious! That is wonderful news.

About to put his phone away, it buzzed again. His mom.
I’m proud of you.

He’d never heard those words from her, and somehow they filled him in a way that the record contract didn’t.
Think Dad knows?

Several moments later, she responded.
No doubt, by pure force of will, your dad’s found a way to keep watch over you. Can you imagine what he’s putting the heavenly bodies through to stay close to his son?

He could actually. He smiled at the winking smiley face she’d included. He quickly wrote her back.
Didn’t know you had such mad texting skillz.

We’ll celebrate when you get home.

Sounds good.
And, surprisingly, it did.

“Slater?” Derek said.

Slater looked up, pocketing his phone. Emmie gave him a squeeze.

“You still with us?”

“Yep.”

“I was saying I’m going to go over all the details with you guys tomorrow, and then we can all decide together if this is what we want.”

“What’s to discuss?” Pete said. “We’re in.”

“Fuck yeah,” Ben said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Derek said. “But we still have to go over the details. Em, can you get us an attorney? We’re going to need someone to look at the contracts.”

“Sure.” She said it quietly, making Slater wonder what she was thinking.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Ben said.

“Em, you’re the best thing that ever happened to us.” Cooper jumped out of his seat, leapt across the short aisle, and scooped her up in his arms. “We love you, man. Seriously.”

“I’m happy for you,” she said.

“A record contract?” Pete tipped his head back, hands skimming his hair. “Jesus. It’s not Amoeba, but it’s sure as fuck something. Hell, yes. I don’t need time to think about anything, man. I’m in. We’re all in.”

“Actually.” Slater released Emmie’s hand and got up. “I’m not sure if I’m in.”

Pete stopped moving. Every one of the guys wore identical expressions of shock. Emmie’s eyes went wide.

“What’re you talking about?” Derek said with a guarded expression.

He almost couldn’t believe what he was about to say. “Before I met Emmie, I wouldn’t think twice about any of this.” Yeah, scoring the contract meant a lot to him. But Emmie? None of it would matter if he lost her.

“Slater,” she began.

He gave her a look, asking her to hear him out. “But I
do
have her, and it’s changed the game plan. Don’t get me wrong. I want to move forward with this band, but only if we’re on the same page.”

“What does
that
mean?” Cooper looked pissed.

“It means that as much fun as we’re all having here, ultimately, we’re talking about our careers. We’ve worked our asses off to get to this point—and it’s finally here. But I think we could fuck it up pretty spectacularly if we don’t have a focused, professional approach. And unless we can all agree on that approach, I’m just not willing to risk my relationship with Em.”

“What the fuck, Slater.” Derek held his gaze, looking incredulous and confused. “Are you trying to
impress
her?”

“I’m telling you that I can see us fucking up, going a little crazy with all this opportunity that’s been handed to us. And I’ve got a line in the sand I’m willing to draw.”

“Like?” Derek sounded hostile.

“Like drugs.”

Derek shook his head in disgust. “We don’t do that shit. Never have.”

Cooper, Pete, and Ben looked away. Slater held his gaze steadily on them, demanding they fess up.

“What’s going on?” Derek elbowed Cooper, who sat next to him. “Are you partying?”

The tension thickened in the room. No one spoke. Derek waited, but he looked like he was ready to lose his shit if someone didn’t answer pretty damn fast.

Finally, Cooper let a breath. “A little.”

“It’s not that big a deal,” Pete said.

“It is to me,” Slater said. “Nothing will kill us quicker than drugs and acting like out-of-control rock stars.”

“We’re just partying with Piper’s guys,” Ben said. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Piper hires session guys,” Slater said. “She hires guys to go on tour with her. They’re all replaceable. We’re a band. We’re in this together. And, frankly, we’re building a brand. I take this shit seriously. If we’re going to take the next step, then I have to know you’re all going to take it seriously, too. That means no drugs.”

“I agree with that,” Derek said to the other guys. “That’s fucked-up, you guys.”

“U2, R.E.M., they didn’t get where they are without a plan,” Slater said. “You don’t just become a legend. You put your heart and soul into it, you have a goal, and you don’t take your eyes off it. And I’m willing to give you guys a hundred percent—you’re my brothers—but only if we can agree we’re not in it to be rock stars, to fuck groupies, and party. Because that shit’s going to burn out fast. I’m not risking Emmie for a situation that’ll wind up in failure. And that’s what I predict if we continue on this path.”

“This is why we have the no-girlfriend rule,” Pete said. “You’re thinking with your dick.”

Slater spun on him. “Wrong, asshole. Do you know what drives me out of bed every day of my life?” He saw Emmie shift, saw her move closer to him. “Failure. Thanks to my dad, that’s all I knew growing up. He’d take me to an audition, enter me in a contest, whatever, and I’d come close. Sometimes, I’d even get the gig. And then they’d drop me because no one would work with my dad. He fucked up everything.”

“We’re not failing, man.” Cooper looked at Slater like he couldn’t believe this discussion. “We’re pure fucking win.”

“Not with the shit we’re doing right now. My dad failed because he had no discipline. He was all over the place. He thought rock ’n’ roll was one big party. And it sure as hell can be. If you want to be a roadie or a wedding band. But I don’t. I’d rather make a living publishing my songs than be in some out-of-control party band. You know I’m totally committed—I’ve never done anything to make you think otherwise. But I’m only willing to go forward if we all decide we want the same thing and are willing to make the same sacrifices to get there.”

“Well, I am,” Derek said. “And I completely agree. Look at Bon Jovi. He’s like a fuckin’ CEO. He runs that band like a boss. We can still have fun—hey, it’s the nature of this gig. But we have to do it the right way.”

The other guys didn’t look convinced. Slater understood. They were still teenage boys alone in their bedrooms strumming on guitars and beating off to the memory of the girl who sat in front of them in history class.

“This is bullshit, man,” Pete said.

“Fuck you,” Derek said. “Are you on drugs right now?”

Pete looked remorseful. Good sign.

Derek shook his head in disgust. “I’ve waited a long time for this chance. And this is it, guys. How long have we been spinning our fucking wheels? And then Emmie comes along—”

“It’s not me,” Emmie said. “It’s you. It’s Slater, who spends every day composing, writing, studying his craft. It’s Derek, who handles the business end so well. It’s all of you committed to rehearsing as often as you do, making sure your sets are perfect. You got to this point yourselves. All I did was open the door. If you hadn’t been ready, you wouldn’t have gotten in. Do you understand? You’re there. Where you’ve worked hard to be. Where thousands of bands wish they could be. You’re right there.”

“But if we want to take it to the next level,” Slater said, taking over so no one blamed Emmie for his line in the sand, “we’re going to have to agree to stay completely professional and focused.”

“Does that mean we can’t fuck our headliner?” Pete gave Slater a hard look.

Rage lit him up like a match, and he lunged for his friend.

“Shut the fuck up.” Derek said, grabbing Slater’s arm and jerking him aside. He towered over Pete. “This is what drugs do, you asshole. All you’re doing is proving Slater’s point.” He shoved Pete’s shoulder. “I’m not going forward, either, unless we all agree to cut this shit out right now. We’ve never been assholes to each other, and you’re being an asshole right now.”

“Come on,” Pete said. “The guy who’s stuck his dick in all thirty thousand of our Facebook fans is suddenly telling us we have to be good little soldiers?” He gave a bitter laugh. “So, we have to all become saints now that you’ve got a girlfriend?”