Rock the Heart
Page 15
I take Noel’s outstretched hand and allow him to help me out. Butterflies tumble around in my stomach. How could I be so nervous? I should have prepared myself more for meeting these guys. What if they totally hate the idea of me staying on the bus with them?
We approach the two men—my hand still in Noel’s firm grasp. I try to pull away, but he tightens his hold. It’s apparent I’m not getting away from him.
The guy with jet black hair and a bandanna tied around his head looks up and elbows the blonde guy. They both grin as we approach.
“You didn’t tell us she was unbelievably hot, Noel,” bandanna guy says.
My eyes drop down to the ground, and I run my hand through my hair. I can’t believe he just called me hot. No guy has ever called me hot to my face before. Well, other than Noel, but we have history together. Most guys just refer to me as cute or pretty, but never hot. Are all rock stars so freaking forward?
Noel punches the guy in the shoulder. “Don’t be a douche, Trip. Lane, this asshole is Trip Douglas, one of the best drummers in the business.”
Trip shakes my hand and glances sideways at Noel with a cocky grin. “The best fucking drummer in the business.”
The blonde guy beside Trip chuckles and looks at me. “Noel’s right. Trip is kind of an asshole. But, unfortunately, I’ve always had to put up with him. Tyke Douglas.” Tyke holds out his hand. “The asshole is my brother. My twin actually, but please don’t hold that against me. And, oh yeah, I play bass in the band.”
I smile at both of them. Now that he mentioned twins, I can totally see the resemblance. The stark contrasts of hair color make them look completely different. Noel’s hand grazes the skin on the small of my back. “Lanie Vance. It’s very nice to meet you both.”
Tyke looks at Noel. “She’s too sweet. You sure you want to bring her on that bus with us?”
Trip laughs. “Especially around Riff. You better not turn your back, bro. He’ll be all over that shit.”
Riff, the lead guitarist, is a well-known womanizer. He is the ultimate definition of rock star. He’s covered in tattoos and piercings. And his Mohawk alternates between blonde and black. It’s really crazy, but the girls seem to go nuts over it. There are always pictures of Riff licking, kissing, or whatevering strippers and randomly naked groupies on the internet. He’s kind of disgusting. Riff’s antics are one of the main reasons the band got so much attention at first, but lately Noel’s been making more headlines in that area.
The Douglas brothers obviously don’t know that I would never go for someone like that.
Noel tenses next to me. “Riff knows better. Lane is off limits.”
Trip and Tyke look at each other with raised eyebrows. I get the distinct feeling that Riff knows no boundaries from the looks on their faces. Whatever they’re thinking, it isn’t going to happen. I am not having sex on this bus with Riff…or anyone for that matter.
We say our goodbyes to the guys and grab my bags from the SUV. Noel insists on carrying them into the bus.
He stretches out his arm and invites me up the steps. “Welcome aboard Big Bertha.”
Big Bertha is a mess. It’s a huge R.V. with a full sitting area and cluttered kitchen—beer cans stacked everywhere. The sink is full of dishes, and the garbage can is stuffed to the brim. The stench makes my stomach turn. The mixture of sweaty man and rotten food is evident within the first couple of seconds I’m inside. It’s almost bad enough to make me want to turn around and run off this bus. I could follow them in a car, couldn’t I?
“Now, I know what your thinking, but I promise you we’ll get it cleaned up. It’s not always this bad. Being on the road without stopping much tends to make the place a disaster.” He smiles at me. “Come on. Let’s take your bags to my bedroom.”
I freeze mid-step. “You’re bedroom? I thought you were kidding when you said that at dinner the other night.”
“Where else would you sleep? The other four bunks are taken, unless you want to sleep in one of the swivel seats up front. Trust me. My room is the best place. Come on.” He grabs my hand and pulls me toward the back of the bus.
I follow Noel down the hallway. “The bunk beds with curtains are where the other guys in the band sleep, and my bodyguard, Mike. Being the leader of the band gives me specific right to the only bedroom on the bus.”
I roll my eyes. I’m sure he shoves his status in their faces anytime he can, just like he does to me.
We step inside the bedroom and I’m surprised by its tidiness. The full size bed takes up most of the room, but there’s some stage drawers built into the walls and under the bed for clothes.
“Put your clothes wherever you can find room. I know it’s tight in here, but it’s better than sleeping in the little foxholes. They can make anyone feel claustrophobic.” He shuts the door, trapping us inside the bedroom, and wraps his arms around me. I tense within his arms as I breathe in the spicy scent and the unmistakable smell of Noel. “Now that I have you all to myself, let me give you a proper hello.”
I place my hand against his chest. “This isn’t how it’s going to work, Noel. I didn’t agree to this deal to be your private sex slave.”
He backs me against the door and places a hand on either side of me, effectively trapping me. My arm feels like Jell-o as I try to hold him back. I swallow hard as he leans in and traces his nose along the length of my jaw line. “Sex Slave? Hmmmmm, I kind of like the sound of that.”
We approach the two men—my hand still in Noel’s firm grasp. I try to pull away, but he tightens his hold. It’s apparent I’m not getting away from him.
The guy with jet black hair and a bandanna tied around his head looks up and elbows the blonde guy. They both grin as we approach.
“You didn’t tell us she was unbelievably hot, Noel,” bandanna guy says.
My eyes drop down to the ground, and I run my hand through my hair. I can’t believe he just called me hot. No guy has ever called me hot to my face before. Well, other than Noel, but we have history together. Most guys just refer to me as cute or pretty, but never hot. Are all rock stars so freaking forward?
Noel punches the guy in the shoulder. “Don’t be a douche, Trip. Lane, this asshole is Trip Douglas, one of the best drummers in the business.”
Trip shakes my hand and glances sideways at Noel with a cocky grin. “The best fucking drummer in the business.”
The blonde guy beside Trip chuckles and looks at me. “Noel’s right. Trip is kind of an asshole. But, unfortunately, I’ve always had to put up with him. Tyke Douglas.” Tyke holds out his hand. “The asshole is my brother. My twin actually, but please don’t hold that against me. And, oh yeah, I play bass in the band.”
I smile at both of them. Now that he mentioned twins, I can totally see the resemblance. The stark contrasts of hair color make them look completely different. Noel’s hand grazes the skin on the small of my back. “Lanie Vance. It’s very nice to meet you both.”
Tyke looks at Noel. “She’s too sweet. You sure you want to bring her on that bus with us?”
Trip laughs. “Especially around Riff. You better not turn your back, bro. He’ll be all over that shit.”
Riff, the lead guitarist, is a well-known womanizer. He is the ultimate definition of rock star. He’s covered in tattoos and piercings. And his Mohawk alternates between blonde and black. It’s really crazy, but the girls seem to go nuts over it. There are always pictures of Riff licking, kissing, or whatevering strippers and randomly naked groupies on the internet. He’s kind of disgusting. Riff’s antics are one of the main reasons the band got so much attention at first, but lately Noel’s been making more headlines in that area.
The Douglas brothers obviously don’t know that I would never go for someone like that.
Noel tenses next to me. “Riff knows better. Lane is off limits.”
Trip and Tyke look at each other with raised eyebrows. I get the distinct feeling that Riff knows no boundaries from the looks on their faces. Whatever they’re thinking, it isn’t going to happen. I am not having sex on this bus with Riff…or anyone for that matter.
We say our goodbyes to the guys and grab my bags from the SUV. Noel insists on carrying them into the bus.
He stretches out his arm and invites me up the steps. “Welcome aboard Big Bertha.”
Big Bertha is a mess. It’s a huge R.V. with a full sitting area and cluttered kitchen—beer cans stacked everywhere. The sink is full of dishes, and the garbage can is stuffed to the brim. The stench makes my stomach turn. The mixture of sweaty man and rotten food is evident within the first couple of seconds I’m inside. It’s almost bad enough to make me want to turn around and run off this bus. I could follow them in a car, couldn’t I?
“Now, I know what your thinking, but I promise you we’ll get it cleaned up. It’s not always this bad. Being on the road without stopping much tends to make the place a disaster.” He smiles at me. “Come on. Let’s take your bags to my bedroom.”
I freeze mid-step. “You’re bedroom? I thought you were kidding when you said that at dinner the other night.”
“Where else would you sleep? The other four bunks are taken, unless you want to sleep in one of the swivel seats up front. Trust me. My room is the best place. Come on.” He grabs my hand and pulls me toward the back of the bus.
I follow Noel down the hallway. “The bunk beds with curtains are where the other guys in the band sleep, and my bodyguard, Mike. Being the leader of the band gives me specific right to the only bedroom on the bus.”
I roll my eyes. I’m sure he shoves his status in their faces anytime he can, just like he does to me.
We step inside the bedroom and I’m surprised by its tidiness. The full size bed takes up most of the room, but there’s some stage drawers built into the walls and under the bed for clothes.
“Put your clothes wherever you can find room. I know it’s tight in here, but it’s better than sleeping in the little foxholes. They can make anyone feel claustrophobic.” He shuts the door, trapping us inside the bedroom, and wraps his arms around me. I tense within his arms as I breathe in the spicy scent and the unmistakable smell of Noel. “Now that I have you all to myself, let me give you a proper hello.”
I place my hand against his chest. “This isn’t how it’s going to work, Noel. I didn’t agree to this deal to be your private sex slave.”
He backs me against the door and places a hand on either side of me, effectively trapping me. My arm feels like Jell-o as I try to hold him back. I swallow hard as he leans in and traces his nose along the length of my jaw line. “Sex Slave? Hmmmmm, I kind of like the sound of that.”
