The Baby and the Rock Star (Rock Star Kisses Book 2) Page 3

  “Hey.” Sebastian leaned in, getting a closer look at me. “You need me to go to the pharmacy or something? Or I can drive you to urgent care.”

  Wow, I really needed to focus and not get distracted by Sebastian or wonder what he had going on under his clothes, especially with him standing right in front of me. I probably looked like an idiot.

  “Thank you, but I’m much better. Promise.” The nausea had passed and I felt normal again, except for the fatigue.

  “Good. When you get around to it, text me about tomorrow.” He waved and strolled down the street toward Theo’s.

  My gaze magnetically zeroed in on his butt that had become much more firm and muscular since our night of debauchery. I blinked, disgusted with myself. Seriously, he was a gifted lyricist and received numerous accolades for his guitar skills, but being talented in one area didn’t automatically make him a decent person. Talent and looks weren’t enough for me. I spun and darted down the driveway to the guest house, kicked off my shoes and sprawled out on my bed. And not even the image of Sebastian’s fine ass could keep me awake.

  Chapter Three

  Sebastian

  Throughout my entire exercise routine the next morning, my thoughts kept drifting to Violet. I could totally see how her stress levels might skyrocket from being so uptight all the time. That girl needed to relax in a big way, let her hair down.

  A flash of her straddling my hips, the ends of her red curls tickling my face while we laughed, assaulted me. I dropped from the salmon ladder, then wiped my chest and neck with a towel. Why the hell couldn’t I get Violet out of my head? She had no business being there. And, seriously, if I got together with any woman, it wouldn’t be with someone so high-strung that she developed physical reactions. Hell, I didn’t need the extra stress in my life.

  One thing I’d never learned to swallow was cutting toxic people from my life. It had taken me forever to do that with my parents, who were the most poisonous of them all. Though I never saw or spoke to them anymore, I still wondered where they were and what they were doing. And if there was any hope for them. Did my mom still justify her and my dad’s drinking and hold him above everyone else, even over her own kids? Always coming in last hadn’t been the worst thing, but leaving my sister, India, behind had nearly killed me. She’d been seven years younger than me and she couldn’t defend herself against our dad’s verbal or physical abuse.

  An ache began in my throat at the memory of her. She was fifteen when I’d last seen her three years ago. She’d just disappeared without a word and I didn’t know whether she was dead or alive. I rubbed my chest remembering the detective’s last words, that they needed to put their manpower toward children they might actually find. They promised to keep searching when they could, but the chances of her being alive were slim.

  My jaw hurt from clenching it and I moved it from side to side to relax. I pushed the image of India’s face out of my head and stepped onto the treadmill. If only I’d done something to help her, found a way to get her out of that house. Instead, I’d left her there to fend for herself. And then she’d runaway. Or been abducted. Or worse. I’d hired two private investigators over the last three years and they had come up with squat.

  But I couldn’t go there. I’d never forget India, but I couldn’t keep revisiting her fate, whatever it had been. Thinking of her and all the ways she could’ve suffered would only bury me and I couldn’t afford to go back to drowning my regrets in a bottle. I needed to stay with the living and concentrate on my future, maybe even enter a real relationship once I was back in the band.

  And once again, Violet’s face swam before me. She wasn’t a relationship prospect for me. Now or ever. I set the treadmill speed faster, hoping the exertion would distract me. By the time I finished my usual four miles, I’d had sex with Violet in my head six times. Filled with self-loathing, I nabbed a pencil and paper, and made a beeline for my guitar. Working on lyrics always soothed my soul and playing guitar healed me. Maybe I could return to normal and get Violet’s image out of my head before she arrived in less than a half hour.

  My feelings for you, how my love raged. All for you, the wars I have waged. But no battles were fought, and I left you behind. Now I’m drowning in guilt, I’m losing my mind.

  I hummed, then rolled the lyrics over the melody as I played. That wasn’t right. I started in a different chord and sang the first line again, this time a little raspier to match the unsettling lyrics. Then I tossed aside the guitar and scribbled a flood of words, filling the sheet. After making a few more tweaks, I picked up my guitar again, and experimented with a slightly different melody. Yeah, that worked for me.

  I sang through the second verse. “Your love filled me and gave me speed. How could I know you’d make me bleed? Now you’re gone and I’m all alone, to deal with the seeds that I have sown.” I dived right into the chorus. “Tell me the rage will go away, that I’ll live to fight another day.” I did a short guitar solo, then rolled into the bridge. “Falling fast, I’m nearly destroyed. Make it stop, send me into the void.”

  Yeah, that’s what I’d been needing. All the tension that had been slowly suffocating me had gradually seeped out during the songwriting process, like I’d been cleansed of all the bad things in my life.

  “Uhm…” Violet cleared her throat. “I hate to interrupt. You seem so happy. But if we don’t leave soon, we’re going to be late for the interview, unless we skip lunch. I don’t want you to miss out on the chance to be seen. And you still need to put on a shirt.”

  I glanced up at Violet and my shoulders tensed. There went all the tranquility I’d just created. Some warning would have been nice. Maybe I shouldn’t have given her the code to my front gate. And what the hell was she wearing? Could anyone really call that a skirt? Wasn’t she cold? Maybe she was banking on the leather jacket keeping her legs warm. “How did you get in?”

  She shifted uncomfortably, her fingers clasped tightly around a key. “Sorry. When you didn’t answer your door, I got worried and called my dad. He told me where you keep the extra key.”

  “Lost track of time and didn’t hear you knock.” Damn, she looked amazing. “Give me five minutes while I get showered and dressed.” And I would try not to think about that V-neck that showed just enough of her breasts to make me wonder what they’d feel like in my hands. Or in my mouth.

  Damn it. I bolted into my bedroom, chastising myself for the direction of my thoughts.

  Violet was high-maintenance and rude. She wasn’t for me and she never would be. I kept reminding myself of that as I showered, then threw on jeans and a black, button-down shirt. On my way out of my room, I scooped up my military boots and rushed back to Violet. She was sitting on the sofa scanning my lyrics.

  “That’s not finished yet.” I ran a hand through my wet hair, not sure I wanted an outsider, especially Violet, to see my stuff before I passed it by one of my bandmates.

  “It’s amazing.” She glanced up from the sheet, her lashes wet. “You must have loved her very much to transfer that much raw emotion into a song.”

  Okay, maybe I didn’t mind Violet reading it. But no way would I discuss my sister with the queen of cold. I shrugged. “You ready?” Without waiting for a reply, I made tracks for the garage.

  “I guess you’re driving,” she said, stopping in front of my shiny red convertible Bugatti. “How’d you get this anyway? I thought this was the number one most expensive car ever.”

  “Got a good deal on it, because some rapper guy couldn’t keep it under one-fifty. His girl thought he was going to get himself killed in a high-speed car chase. Made him get rid of it.” I opened the door for her. “For a really sweet price.”

  “It’ll certainly get us some attention.” She slipped into the passenger seat. “Which is the whole point.”

  Between the car and her short skirt, we’d probably accomplish everything we wanted to today and more. I reached into the console to get the garage door opener, brushing her arm in the proces
s. Ignoring the tingle on my skin and blaming it on my lack of contact with women these last three years, I concentrated on the future. I was about to spend the day with one of the most beautiful girls I’d encountered in forever. May as well enjoy it.

  On second thought, that probably wasn’t possible with a girl like Violet.

  “If we’re going to make the headlines, let’s make sure we’re seen.” I removed the top of the Bugatti, then we climbed in. After firing it up, I cleared the garage door, passed the gate and pulled onto the street.

  Violet gathered her massive amounts of hair and wound it into a ball, then held it in place with an elastic tie. I liked how she was prepared for anything. Rather than getting turned off by her practicality, I was aroused by it. But hadn’t I already concluded that my attraction to her was because I’d been too long without a woman? My appendages were simply responding to lack of activity. That’s all there was to it.

  “They’ll assume we’re an item. Is that going to bother you?” I asked her.

  “I couldn’t care less so long as we both get what we want. Besides, people love a good romance. They love a mystery even more. While the paparazzi are speculating, you’ll be getting exposure.”

  Wow, what I had started to view as a joy ride, Violet had managed to turn back into a business transaction. I knew I was just a problem for her to solve and she was only doing her job. But, for some reason, having so little value to her made me feel a little more hollow inside. And, apparently, sobering up had turned me into a wuss.

  Chapter Four

  Violet

  When I’d walked into his living room a few minutes ago, and saw him singing as he strummed his Fender, my stomach had flipped. Over the last couple of months, he’d become perfectly sculpted, unlike the softer man I’d gotten drunk with. His hair had been damp and the sparse hairs along his happy trail had glistened over solid muscle. He’d obviously recently finished a workout and I was thankful to have missed it or I might have fainted.

  He was fully clothed now and I wasn’t drunk. And, thankfully, I’d been such a hag to him there was no way in hell he could be even remotely interested in me. I couldn’t imagine him going for a boring businesswoman when he could sleaze it up with some heiress or starlet. Nothing else would happen between us. I would keep my lust in check and I’d get through this job in no time.

  “How are you feeling today?” Sebastian’s gaze flicked my way a moment before steering the Bugatti onto Sunset Boulevard.

  “Decent.” Not entirely true. Though I probably wasn’t in any danger of puking up my guts, being with Sebastian seemed to up my anxiety level. He was a douche bag and too gorgeous for his own good. Or mine. But as long as he kept that shirt on, at least his looks wouldn’t throw me off my game. Much.

  Screams on the opposite side of the street were followed by shouts in our direction. “Sebastian Trevino! Oh, my God, it’s Sebastian! It’s him!”

  I glanced straight ahead to the red light, then refocused on the girls. They were weaving through sidewalk body traffic and sprinting in our direction. “Sebastian, wait!” a tiny blonde begged.

  Sebastian laughed. “We’re parking in a moment and we’ll come back to say hello.” The girls shrieked in unison and he hit the gas. “Do we have time?” he asked me.

  “We don’t have a choice now that you’ve promised them.” He was about to willingly brave a group of screaming fans. He had to be crazy. But whatever. It was his career. I could lead him to the right choice, but I couldn’t make the decision for him. I just didn’t want him screwing up my hard work by being late to the interview, because he had to be suck up to his fans. “Let’s be quick about it.”

  Sebastian swerved and slipped into a parking spot on the street. We had to walk a block to get to the girls, which wasn’t an outrageously long distance by any stretch of the imagination. But it would burn time. I’d worked hard to line up the interview on such short notice with Exposed! magazine. Normally, they’d send someone out to the celebrity’s house, but Sebastian had only recently closed escrow and moved in. He’d seen the paparazzi go after Liam and he wasn’t ready to have his property invaded yet. I figured getting out into the world and being seen would help the mission anyway. As long as we were on time.

  The girls greeted us halfway from the shop where we’d first seen them. The blonde jumped up and down while another girl stood dumbstruck, and the third one wrung her hands, grinning at Sebastian like she worshipped him.

  Blondie squealed and thrust a napkin and pen toward Sebastian. “Do you think you could sign this?”

  He flashed the most gorgeous smile I’d ever seen as he took the pen and napkin. “What’s your name, doll?”

  I caught myself melting and reminded myself I didn’t date musicians, especially loser alcoholics who didn’t even have a job.

  “Would you like to take a picture with me?” he asked them, returning the signed napkin.

  After a few shots with the girls, I urged Sebastian to leave and we rushed to make it to the interview. He and I made it to the Exposed! building with only seconds to spare. We rushed up the elevator and as soon as the receptionist recognized him, we were escorted to a private room. We crossed the fake wood floors and each sunk into an overstuffed chair. So that I wouldn’t have to talk to Sebastian, I grabbed the current issue of Exposed! off the side table.

  But I couldn’t concentrate on any celebrity tidbits. I was too busy remembering how sweet Sebastian had been to the girls and the looks on their faces when he hugged them. I scolded myself for the warm and fuzzies creeping up on me.

  We didn’t have long to wait before a woman entered. She wore a snug pencil skirt and a white blouse that dipped low in the front. Her lipstick was painted just above her lip line which made her mouth appear fuller. But the bright red also reminded me of the Joker. Other than that, she could be pretty, I supposed. If you liked red hair that came from a bottle.

  “Hi, I’m Lisa Alcott.” She bent forward to extend a hand to Sebastian, her boobs nearly toppling out and falling on him. She held his fingers much longer than necessary.

  Despite being repelled by her insincerity, I plastered on a smile, ready to introduce myself as the one she’d spoken with when setting up the meeting. She didn’t even glance in my direction. My hackles went up when I realized she didn’t plan to acknowledge my existence in any way.

  “Let’s get right to it, shall we?” she asked, oozing something that was more like smarm than charm.

  I inwardly twitched, wondering if Sebastian found her attractive. But if he liked plastic women and wanted to hook up with a piranha, that was his business.

  Sebastian flashed that brilliant smile and I relaxed. He wouldn’t fall for her act. He was working her better than she was working him.

  God, I hated Hollywood.

  “So…” She gave him angelic eyes and her sweetest smile. “Let’s talk about your sister’s disappearance.”

  His sister? My eyes cut to Sebastian’s stricken face. Clearly, Lisa had hit a chord and who could blame him for being stunned? I didn’t know Sebastian even had a sister, much less that something had happened to her. But now wasn’t the time to get my curiosity satisfied. Sebastian needed rescuing and the whole reason I’d come to the meeting was to make sure it turned out beneficial to him. “We’re limiting the interview to Full Throttle’s upcoming CD. Sebastian has also agreed to take questions on his newfound sobriety, but any other questions, he’ll have no comment.”

  Sebastian shook his head and sent me a reassuring smile. “It’s okay.” Then he turned to Lisa. “Old news, but if you want to recycle something from three years ago, be my guest. What would you like to know?”

  “Have they come up with any new evidence in the case?”

  “Not that I know of. We’ve barely heard from anyone at the police station in probably two years.”

  She scribbled on the notepad in her lap, then peered up at Sebastian. “And your parents? How are they doing?”

  A slo
w smile crept over his face. “You already know all this. What’s your angle?”

  Her eyes widened in feigned innocence. “Responsible journalism?”

  I snorted and she sent me a death glare. “Whatever you really want to know, just ask. If he doesn’t want to answer, he won’t. But let’s not waste everyone’s time.”

  Lisa pivoted in her seat and stared straight at me. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave. We reserve the right to conduct interviews without an audience.” She rose to open the door, but Sebastian’s voice had her halting midstep.

  “She stays or I leave.” He waved her back to the chair. “Next question?”

  “Very well.” Resigned, Lisa huffed and returned to her seat, crossed her legs and reviewed her list. “Were you aware that after your father passed away, your mother became unstable and was admitted to a hospital two weeks ago where she remains in a coma?”

  He folded his arms over his chest and dipped his head to the side. “Next question.”

  She lowered her chin and straightened her spine. “Do you want to know which hospital she’s at?”

  Sebastian checked his phone, eyeing the screen. “If you have any real questions, I suggest you get to it. We have somewhere across town we need to be.”

  Lisa’s face fell and she cleared her throat, as if Sebastian had finally broken her. “Are you dating anyone?” she asked.

  “Not right now.”

  “You haven’t been photographed with a woman in some time and your Full Throttle fans are anxious to know if you’re straight.”

  He laughed, a beautiful robust sound I found incredibly sexy. “Women are definitely my drug of choice.”

  The rest of the questions went off smoothly and Sebastian answered all of them without needing any further assistance from me. Not that he had needed me at all. After the last question, Lisa laid on the sugar and told Sebastian how lovely it had been to meet him. Then she ushered us out. We walked at a casual pace until we were safely tucked inside the Bugatti. The energy around him changed as he put up the top and closed us in. His fingers trembled as he started the car. “I need to get to the hospital.”