Rock Star Ex Read online

  Evernight Publishing

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2013 Jewel Quinlan

  ISBN: 978-1-77130-600-3

  Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

  Editor: JC Chute

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  For my father, who has always believed in me.

  And for all the role models whose coaching brought me back to my true path in life.

  ROCK STAR EX

  Jewel Quinlan

  Copyright © 2013

  Chapter One

  His voice was a combination of sex and sandpaper. He wore nothing but a pair of distressed black jeans that showed off every curve of muscle and a pair of biker boots. A black leather cuff encircled his wrist. A flowing red and black bandanna was tied around his head, and long dark hair streamed down over his shoulders. The crowd howled and cheered as he gyrated on stage, the light reflecting perfectly off every cut of his abs as the guitars squealed and the drums crashed. He belted lyrics into the microphone clenched in his hand as his eyes made contact with the crowd, pulling them in.

  The energy in the Staples Center was outrageous. It was a living, pulsating field that responded to the band’s every sound. But for Eve, it felt as though she were suspended in time. Everything slowed down in the split-second the lights flashed over his face, and she recognized him.

  She continued to move and sway in a semi-dance with Kate in the front row, but she was no longer amped about their floor tickets right next to the stage. The urge to hide struck her. Which was silly, she thought, because he would never notice her there with the lights shining in his eyes, while she stood among the crush of bodies.

  His voice was mesmerizing. It had taken on a deeper, sexier quality since she’d seen him last. He ran down the catwalk that jutted out into the crowd and slid on his knees as he belted out the last, strong note of the song. He came to a stop just before the end of the stage, his head thrown back, all the muscles of his throat straining as he pulled the final notes from the depths of his soul. All hands reached towards him, women screamed, and the sight of him in his full, unadulterated glory hit her in the gut like a mallet.

  She sighed. God help her, she had to. He was breathtaking, and it was impossible not to be moved by his talent as the music washed over her. Eve lifted her hands to cheer and scream along with the others. The house lights went dark and, for a minute, nothing but the hoots and whistles of the crowd could be heard. Several people lifted their cell phones, the screen lights shining through the darkness in appreciation, as they waited for the next song.

  A spotlight snapped on to reveal Devon sitting on a stool in the center of the stage, a guitar in his hands. He lazily plucked three notes on it and the crowd went wild. Everyone knew the ballad––it had been a hit for the longest time. More cell phones appeared and their lights started to sway as he began to strum. The background illumination came up, revealing the rest of the band.

  She couldn’t take her eyes off him and was glad she could take in her fill of his mesmerizing form without him knowing. She and Kate stood off to the right, below him, catching a great view of his profile as he played. The muscles of his bicep and forearm twitched elegantly as he picked and strummed.

  Never in a million years would she have ever suspected that Devon Quinn would become the new lead singer for Arsenal. When Kate had invited her to the concert, she’d been more than happy to accept. It had been rumored that Arsenal would make a surprise appearance with their new lead singer, but no one had been sure. His identity had been kept top secret and speculation had been rampant.

  Kate smiled at her with glee. “Isn’t he hot?”

  Eve smiled back and nodded, hoping the dark would shield her friend from the fact that it was forced. Kate had no idea. Hot did not even begin to describe it…

  He stood up, continuing to play, as he approached the edge of the stage and then turned to stroll slowly down the right side. Fans reached up to touch and grab whatever they could as he crooned the words of the song. And then, finally, he was right in front of where they stood. Kate went wild with the rest of them, straining her hands out to touch him.

  It was too late to move. Eve was now pinned against the stage as people surged forward. Packed in among the warm bodies, her head mere inches from Devon’s feet, she hoped the crowd would be sufficient camouflage. No such luck. His piercing, khol-lined blue eyes honed right in on her. The instant their eyes met a knowing passed between them, and that strange suspended feeling came back to her. It felt as though he was singing directly to her now.

  Eve stood paralyzed, not knowing what to do. There was no escape at the moment. Her hands were pressed against the wall of the stage, feeling the vibrations. Her eyes were glued to his and she didn’t think there was any force on earth that could’ve made her look away from where he stood above her, his hands skillfully moving along the neck of the guitar. Illuminated by the multiple spotlights aimed on him, Devon looked like a god.

  The song came to an end and the final notes rang out, and still they didn’t break eye contact. The muscles of his chest rose and fell with his breath, a thin layer of sweat giving them a dewy sheen. She wasn’t sure what the expression on his face meant, but recognition was in his eyes.

  The deafening noise of the crowd filled the slight pause before the band started up again. As the beginning notes to the next song rang out, he seemed to snap back into himself. His eyes tore abruptly from hers and he walked away to his next mark, where he began singing again. She was relieved…and bereft. Her inner Eve, the naive Eve, wanted to go to him, to be with him, to shout out his name and make sure he knew it was her. But she fought against its pull. Her rational mind, and her emotional heart, called forth all the facts and remembered the pain he had inflicted on her five years ago, forcing her to relive the despair. Suddenly, she had to get away.

  “I’m going to the bathroom! Meet me out front if I don’t make it back!” she screamed in Kate’s ear. Her friend nodded, continuing to sing along with the crowd, her smile brilliant with excitement. Eve wasn’t sure Kate heard her, but at that moment she didn’t really care. She just had to put some distance between herself and the stage.

  Once out in the hallway, Eve felt better. Breathing a sigh of relief, she headed for the bathroom. Arsenal was the finale in the lineup of the many bands that had played that evening, so their set wouldn’t be too long. Her feet ached from the hours they’d already been there. It was now one-thirty in the morning.

  Washing her hands, she inspected her reflection in the mirror. Her eye makeup was still in place and her lips were still glossy with red lipstick. She was glad now that she had gone all out and worn the short, black strapless leather dress. Combined with her fishnets and spiked heels, it was an outfit that made her feel extra confident. And it never hurt to look your best when confronted with an ex. It wasn’t something Eve normally wore, but she and Kate liked to dress up occasionally. Last month they’d gone to an 80s concert and she’d worn the best imitation Madonna outfit she could find.

  She smoothed down her long, dark hair and listened as the concert went on. Even in the bathroom it was loud, penetrating…sexy. Eve hated to admit it, but Devon put Arsenal’s last lead singer to shame. The rich depths of his tones grabbed at her even in here.

  Devon.
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  Why had she ever allowed herself to fall for a musician? It was really no surprise that he’d broken her heart. Such a cliché.

  She supposed he’d gone through many women after her. The last time she saw him was five years ago, when he’d boarded a rickety bus with his last band.

  “I already miss you,” she said. Her arms wrapped around his lean waist and she didn’t ever want to let go. She rested her head on his chest in the spot that felt like it had been created just for her.

  His arms held her tighter. He leaned his face into her hair. “I’ll miss you too,” he whispered. “I’ll be back soon, though.” He pulled her so that their bodies pressed even closer together, making her feel that spark again deep inside her. She was glad they’d at least had the chance to explore that before he left. It had been absolutely the best night of her life.

  “You’d better be.” Tears were beginning to well beneath her eyelids, and her nose was starting to get stuffy. She wished with all her heart she could go with him but she’d just started her first semester of college. She had no money, no job, and he was pursuing his dream. She tried to pull herself back together. This was what he wanted to do. She was supposed to be supportive, wasn’t she? But she didn’t want to be. She wanted to grab onto him and beg him to stay.

  He gently pulled her shoulders back from his a fraction and lifted her chin with his hand to look deep into her eyes. “I love you,” he said, his tone rich with meaning and promise.

  Her mouth lifted in a smile and a tear escaped to roll down her cheek. “I love you too.”

  His lips pressed down on hers firmly, passionately and she responded with everything she had. God, how she loved him. He was everything to her. Their tongues teased each other lightly and then he gently nibbled on her lips. One of his hands rose to cup her cheek and gently eased back to look at her, leaning his forehead against hers.

  She caught her reflection in the mirror, instantly disgusted with herself at the forlorn look on her face. Ugh, the awful replay of memories was always the worst part about running into an ex. As she left the bathroom, women flooded in past her. The lobby was full and more people streamed out the doors of the arena. She headed for the exit herself, eager to move on to the after hours party at a warehouse they’d gotten wind of. She hadn’t even noticed the concert ending while lost in the memory of him, she realized with irritation.

  She was about to step past security and through the exit when she felt her phone vibrating. She stepped to the side to allow other people through and pulled the cell from her cleavage, wishing again that women’s clothing had more pockets.

  Where r u? It was a text from Kate.

  At the door, heading out front, she responded.

  Don’t go! Came a quick text back. Head back to our section and meet me.

  She turned and headed back, stopping in front of the door to their section where she scanned the faces coming out until she found Kate.

  Her friend beamed with excitement when she saw her. “You are not going to believe this!”

  “What?”

  Kate reached into the waist of her skirt and pulled out two colorful laminated squares and waved them at her. “Backstage passes! The security guard handed them to me right after you left. We get to hang with the band backstage and be at their after-party!”

  Eve’s jaw dropped open--she absolutely did not want to go backstage, but she did an internal attitude adjustment in a split second. “Oh my god!” she exclaimed with just the right amount of squeal and enthusiasm. “That’s so great!” But it wasn’t.

  It was so not great she couldn’t stand it. Any other night she would have been ecstatic, but not tonight. She quickly weighed the options in her mind, but there was no way to back out on her friend. They had also come in the same car and she couldn’t abandon Kate, especially if there was a wild after-party involved. Plus, scoring backstage passes on a night like tonight was a once in a lifetime event.

  Eve pasted a smile on her face and followed Kate’s lead down the hall. She had no choice. They were going backstage.

  ****

  Devon lifted the guitar from his shoulder and handed it over to one of the guitar techs. It was the usual kind of chaos backstage: there were people of all kinds, everywhere. Groupies, managers, techs, agents, friends of friends were filtering in the door, guarded by two security staff. Roadies, dressed in black of course, were scurrying around trying to get their jobs done amid all the partying. The musicians who had gone on previously were already hammered and the caterers were scrambling to refill food on the buffet as people swarmed it, looking for late-night snacks.

  Several of his band mates were giving each other high-fives. Their English bass player, Drew Haley, slapped him on the shoulder. “Awesome job, brother! Did you see the crowd go wild for it?” He put an arm around Devon’s shoulders and turned to the others. “I knew it! I knew this guy was a keeper.”

  “Good job, man,” said the drummer, Shane Nelson, a smile on his face. He turned to the tall strawberry blond guitarist next to him. “What’d you think, Tommy?”

  “I don’t know,” said Tommy slyly. “We’ll have to see how he does with his shirt on next time.”

  Devon laughed. He and Tommy, the lead guitarist, had become good friends in the short time he’d been with the band. “You’re on,” he said. “I’ll wear a shirt at the next one. But even with my shirt on there’ll be a trail of wet panties in my wake,” he parried. They all laughed as he sauntered off.

  He headed for their dressing room, which was really more of a suite, with its multiple lighted mirrors, couches, TV, refrigerator, tables and chairs. Glad to find it empty, Devon shut the door behind him, muffling the sounds of the crowd outside.

  Had it been Eve? He could’ve sworn they were the exact same eyes, but he wasn’t so certain of the rest. Well, maybe she had a twin she didn’t know about. Or a cousin. He grabbed his t-shirt off the couch and shrugged back into it.

  He could easily have been seeing things. The arena had been packed. In the darkness, all he’d caught was a glimpse of her face and a hint of breasts from where he’d looked down at her. He’d never seen Eve wear a lot of makeup, and the girl in the crowd had had smoky eyes with thick, black lashes and red lipstick. It probably wasn’t her.

  But those eyes.

  The exact same sea-foam green, the ones he still saw in his sleep. It wasn’t just the color, though. There had always been something in their expression that captured him. There was something more behind her eyes. It was that something more that had always intrigued him.

  He hadn’t meant to stand there for so long, staring at her, trying to figure it out. At least it seemed no one had noticed. They would already have been teasing him mercilessly by now if they had. It was amazing how much a part of the band he felt already. He was only a few months in, but joining Arsenal was a vastly different experience from the others he had bounced around to. They were professionals who had their acts together. They worked hard on their craft and drew the line at any kind of addiction or laziness. That was made clear from the beginning. In addition, the support team was sharp and organized.

  His mind went back to the girl in the crowd and he wondered what Eve was doing these days. No doubt she was married to a doctor and had kids by now. Isn’t that what all the normal kids did after college? Not him. He actually never even spared college half a thought. He’d known since he was very young that his life wouldn’t follow any ‘normal’ path. At the moment, he was pretty satisfied with where it had led him…except for one thing. He went to the fridge and pulled out a beer. Twisting off the top, he flipped it in a supreme basketball move to the trashcan on the opposite side of the room and went to rejoin the party.

  He was immediately accosted by a flock of groupies waiting just outside the door. It was something he’d had to get used to in his years on the road, on a smaller scale, but ever since joining Arsenal the throngs of women had gotten larger. The band had brought him in quietly, keeping him a secret
so they could do the big reveal tonight. But even before everyone quite knew who he was and what he was doing hanging out with the band, the women had set their targets on him. They must have had a sixth sense for new band members or something. Or maybe they were just big sluts. Who really knew? He tried to give them the benefit of the doubt on that last, but it was hard sometimes.

  Several had managed to make it into his room. He had his suspicions about how so many made it through locked hotel room doors. He supposed his band mates were just trying to help him out, help him to relax. Tommy was always saying how intense he was. But he wanted, more than anything else, to make it. He’d dreamed of this since he was five.

  Smiling, he welcomed the flock of girls good-naturedly and slung his arm around the one who seemed shyest, a rail thin redhead. She giggled nervously. The shy ones were always the safest, least likely to try and sneak their hand down his pants or their tongue in his ear. They were very young and extremely scantily clad, with long limbs, perky breasts and barely-there outfits. They looked at him with shining eyes, as if he were a god come to life.

  As a red-blooded male, his eyes appreciated the view, but that didn’t stop the red flags from going through his mind. He bantered with them, trying to figure out how old they were. It was crazy, the resources women had to disguise their ages these days. You never could tell, when they were all dressed up.

  Unfortunately he wasn’t really into groupies. They were hot, but they had this way about them that turned him off. Simpering, that was it. They simpered. The word fit, but he couldn’t remember where he had heard it. It wasn’t a word he would use out loud, at any rate.

  Safest thing to do was get back to the crowd, so he steered them towards the bar. A steady supply of alcohol was always a party pleaser and he considered building fan loyalty a part of his job.