Rock With Me Page 12
“Why not?” He looks almost insulted and I can’t help but smirk.
“Do I have a reason to worry about groupies?” I ask sarcastically. I know I don’t.
“Hell no.”
“That’s why I don’t give a shit about them, babe. They’re nothing.” I shrug and kiss his chin. “I’ve been around crazy women fans for far too long to let them worry me.”
“That’s right,” realization dawns and he smiles. “I bet Luke had his share.”
“Luke had a woman kill herself in his house, Leo. I know all about women fans.”
“Holy fuck,” he sputters, appalled.
“Yeah. I’m not a jealous person. I never have been.”
“I never have been either, until you. Seeing you put your hand on him made me crazy.”
“So noted. You could have calmly talked with me about it later, you know.”
“I liked this better.” He winks and kisses me playfully just as there is a knock on the door. “Come on, let’s finish this so we can get out of here.”
Leo opens the door to find Eric standing on the other side, about to knock again. “Are we going to work, or are we going to fuck?” He asks with a scowl.
“Fuck off,” Leo mutters and pushes past him. Eric grins down at me suggestively.
“I could take you back in that office…” he begins.
“Stop,” I tell him and face him square-on. “You and I will be fine as soon as we get one thing straight: I enjoy you visually, but I don’t now, nor will I ever, want to fuck you. I’m with Leo. He’s your friend. That’s it.”
Eric sobers and shoves his hands in his pockets, rocks back on his heels and then a slow grin spreads across his face. “I like you.”
“Glad to hear it. Get to work.”
“I like her,” he announces happily as he turns down the hallway.
“I do too,” Leo’s eyes are dancing, watching me.
I roll my eyes. “You get to work, too.”
“You’re awfully bossy,” he grins.
“A little,” I concede.
“We’ll do something about that later.” He swats my ass and leads me to join the others, discussing the space and schedule.
“So, we can begin in about two weeks.” Skip is consulting his iPad. “You can have the studio three times a week, four hours a day.”
“We’ll take it,” Leo pulls his phone out of his pocket to add the appointments to his calendar.
“Great. Thanks, guys. I’m looking forward to working with you.” Skip shakes their hands and shows us out.
“Have you talked to Adam and Jason about coming up here from L.A. for recording?” Jake asks.
“Yeah, they’re good.” Leo exhales. “They’re going to bring the families with them and rent out some houses.”
“Good,” Eric nods. “It’s good to be writing and recording at home again.”
“It is,” Leo agrees and waves as Jake and Eric pull off.
“I want to talk to you,” Rick begins when it’s just the three of us left.
“Okay,” Leo frowns.
“Alone,” Rick clarifies, gesturing toward me.
“I’ll wait in the car.” I begin to walk toward the curb but Leo interrupts.
“No. Stay here.” He glowers at Rick. “Whatever you have to say can be said in front of her.”
“Is she going to be a problem?” Rick asks bluntly.
“What are you talking about?”
“You weren’t even here five minutes before you had to pull her into a locked room and fuck her. This album is a big deal. Your cut alone is over ten million, and that’s before royalties.” I feel my cheeks heat, and my mouth drop.
“Hold it.” Leo holds up a hand, shutting him up and my wide eyes find his before he turns back to the asshole. “You may have forgotten, but it’s never been about the money for me, Rick. It’s the music. The fans love the music. If you have a problem with my girlfriend, I’ll find another manager.”
“I’ve been with you since you were singing in dumpy little clubs in Bothel,” he sputters.
“Yeah, and you’ve gotten greedy.” Leo gets in his face. “Don’t ever disrespect my girl again, Rick. She’s not the problem.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“No, I’m laying it out for you, man. She’s not just one in a long line. Get used to seeing her around.”
Rick glares at me and then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Fine.”
Leo tightens his hand around mine and leads me to the car, settles me into his front seat, and climbs in himself, and speeds away from the studio.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur when I find my voice.
“Why?”
“I don’t want to cause any issues for you.”
He laughs humorlessly and shakes his head. “You are not an issue. Half the guys in the band are married, Sam. Rick’s just an asshole and doesn’t like change.”
“Okay,” I whisper and clasp my fingers in my lap. He’s right. Rick is an asshole. But I really don’t want to be the cause of any issues in the band. In one hour I managed to make Leo jealous, set his drummer straight and piss off his manager.
I’m just a real charmer.
“Stop it,” he murmurs and pulls my hands apart, links his fingers with mine and kisses my fingers. “Trust me, you’re not an issue.”
“Okay,” I mutter and trace the tats on his fingers when he rests our hands in my lap. “Are you excited to get back into the studio?”
“Yeah, it’ll be fun.”
I nod and look out the window. Darkness has fallen. It gets dark quickly in the winter in Seattle.
“So, I don’t think we’re going to make it to dinner before we go to the club.” Leo gives me an apologetic smile. “But I’ll buy you bar food.”
“I love bar food!” Just the thought of it has my stomach growling. “I want potato skins and buffalo wings and nachos.”
“Is that all?” He asks with a laugh.
“And deep fried mozzarella sticks. I’ll share with you.”
“Okay.” He shrugs and laughs again.
“How do you know the band we’re going to see?” I ask.
“I met the lead singer back in the day when I played the Seattle circuit. He’s had opportunities to come to L.A., but his family is here, and he’s content here. I haven’t seen him in years.”
“Cool. Are they good?”
“Pretty good, yeah. They do mostly covers, but they throw in some original stuff too.”
“Does he know you’re coming?”
“Yeah, I called him the other day.” Leo frowns and glances at me.
“What?”
“I’ll probably be recognized tonight.”
“I figured. You’re not in your usual disguise.” I snicker and kiss his hand.
“You’re okay?”
I love that he’s worried about me.
“I’m fine.”
“Really?” He looks surprised.
“I don’t trust the fame,” I remind him. “You know this. But it’s part of who you are. I’m excited to go listen to the band with you. I’ll be fine.”
“Okay, thank you.”
He parks, pulls his beanie low so it covers his eyebrow and exhales deeply. “Here goes nothing, sweetheart. Let’s go get your bar food.”
“Don’t touch my nachos.”
Chapter Twelve
“I’ll open your door,” Leo pins me with a firm look. “Wait for me.”
I frown and watch him pull himself out of the car and walk around the front end to my door. He pulls it open and grasps my hand firmly, pulling me close to his side.
Two tall, bulky men are standing stoically on the sidewalk, waiting for us.
“This is Stan and Henry. They’re security for tonight,” Leo murmurs and turns to the men. “You don’t let her out of your sight, ever. Got it?”
“Got it, sir,” Stan replies and they both nod.
“Uh, Leo…” I look up at him with a f
rown. “Is this necessary?”
“Yes,” he replies and cups my cheek in his hand. “It’s a packed house, and I won’t take any chances with your safety.”
Jesus, it’s then it occurs to me that I’m out with Leo Nash. Lead singer and founder of the worldwide sensation Nash. I’m not out with Leo, my boyfriend.
Oh boy.
“Okay.” I smile at him reassuringly and pat his chest with my free hand. “Lead the way.”
He nods at his security guys, and one leads us in and the other walks in behind us. The band has just begun playing a cover of a Nirvana song. It’s still early in the set. The music hits us like a wall as we walk into the large club. The stage is big and in the far back. Most of the patrons are gathered around the stage, drinks in the air, dancing and enjoying the music.
Leo leads me to a booth in the main bar area with a full view of the stage, motions for me to slide in and then joins me, sitting beside me rather than across from me. The security guys sit at an empty table right next to us.
“What can I get you?” A waitress yells above the music.
Leo raises an eyebrow at me. “I’ll take a dirty martini.”
He smirks and gives the waitress my order, along with a beer for himself and all of the bar food I want. He grips my hand in his and kisses my knuckles and smiles down at me. “Do you like Nirvana?”
“Do I live in Seattle?” I respond and wrinkle my nose at him. “Duh.”
He laughs and we settle in and watch the band, the people milling about. No one is paying us any attention, and I can’t help but think that hiring security was a bit over the top.
No one even cares that we’re here.
Our drinks and food arrive and Leo leans in to yell into the waitress’s ear. She smiles and nods and turns away.
“What did you say to her?” I ask loudly and shove a delicious potato skin piled with sour cream into my mouth.
“You’re so classy.” He laughs and wipes a glob of sour cream from my lip.
“I know.” I shrug and keep eating.
“I told her to let the band’s people know I’m here.”
“Oh, cool.” We eat and listen, people watch. Glancing at Leo, I see a trail of sweat drip down his neck.
“You’re sweating.” I frown. “Take your beanie off, babe.”
He shakes his head and looks around the room. “Not yet.”
He’s completely over-reacting. “No one here has even looked at you twice,” I remind him.
“Not yet,” he says again and reaches for a cheese stick.
“We should offer Thing One and Thing Two some food.” There is still a ton of food that we’ll never be able to finish.
He smiles down at me and wraps an arm around my shoulders. “They’re about to earn their paychecks.”
Just then the band ends a song and starts talking to the audience. “Hey, Seattle, are you having a fuckin’ good time yet?”
The crowd goes crazy, screaming and whooping, and I grin. I love live shows.
“What would you say if I told you I have a surprise for you?” The lead singer asks and takes a long swig of water. More cheers. “An old friend of mine is here.”
“That’s our cue,” Leo murmurs to me and nods to security. “Come on.”
“I’m not going on stage,” I protest, and he laughs.
“No, you’re going to be in the wings. I don’t want you in this crowd.” We join our burly security. “I want you guys to escort her to the wings. They’re expecting you and will show you where to go.”
They nod and off we go through the crowd.
“Have you guys heard of a little band called Nash?” The crowd explodes in applause and cheers. “How about the ugly front guy they have, Leo?”
We are led to the right side of the stage and through a door and to an immediate left, and I’m told to stay right here, behind a black curtain. I’m looking onto the stage, and can see the whole band.
“Well,” the singer continues, “I knew Leo back in the day when he was just singing around Seattle, and it just so happens that he’s in town and has dropped by to see us!”
He has to stop speaking because the cheers are deafening. I can’t help but bounce on the balls of my feet in excitement, my throat clenches in joy and I grasp my hands together, holding them against my chest.
Suddenly, from the other side of the stage, Leo hops up and joins the singer, giving him a real hug and whispering in his ear. He’s pulled his beanie off, showing his messy light brown hair and piercings. He’s still in his blazer, but he takes it off and throws it off stage to someone in the wings.
The girls scream some more as he stands there in just his Levi’s tee, the sleeves hugging his muscular, tattooed arms. Dear Lord, he’s beautiful.
And completely in his element.
He’s grinning widely, waving and nodding at the crowd, and he takes a mic when it’s offered to him.
“Hey, Seattle!”
More screams, and I clap along with the crowd. Leo turns his head and finds me behind the black curtain and winks.
“So bro, what do you want to do?” His friend asks him.
“Well… I don’t know.” He frowns and looks out at the fans. “Do you guys want to hear something?”
Well, that’s a stupid question. The girls go mad, and Leo laughs.
“You’re welcome to borrow my guitar, man.”
“Nah.” Leo shakes his head and motions to the piano. “Can I jack your piano?”
“Anything you want.”
The pianist stands and bows to Leo and the whole band exits the stage, saying hi to me as they pass, and Leo is alone on stage. Whoever is running the lights points a spotlight on him, dimming the rest of the stage.
I can’t look away. I can’t blink.
“So, this is a new song,” he begins, adjusting the mic on the stand and settling behind the piano. “Would you like to hear it?”
“I love you Leo!” a girl screams drunkenly from the front row.
“Thank you, sugar,” he winks at her, chuckles and begins to noodle the keys, warming his hands. “I’m gonna slow things down a bit. This song is called Sunshine.”
He plays the lead in. It’s soft and sweet and glaringly familiar to me.
And then he starts to sing.
I don’t wanna be your friend
‘Cause I’ve already let you in
Every time I see your sweet blue eyes
I know I need to make you mine
My walls crumble… And crumble
So all you see is the real me
I’m stunned. It’s me. He’s singing about me. And the music is the music he wrote when I was sick, when we were at the piano together.
He hits the hook, and my heart swells to almost bursting.
I wrote that music.
I had no idea he was writing a song about me. Or that it would turn into a song at all. I thought he was just playing around while he was bored and taking care of me.
He wrote a fucking song for me.
When you smile
Your sunshine hits me
And the shadows in my soul
They are gone
Oh how many times
Have I stared at your lips
Wishing I could feel them on me
When you’re so close
Baby, I forget how to breathe
He looks up at me and pins me with those deep gray eyes, his look is fierce and possessive, and then one side of his mouth tips up as he leads back into the chorus.
When you smile
Your sunshine hits me
And the shadows in my soul
They are gone
When I run my hand
Over your perfect skin
I know you see me
And not what I’m covered in
My walls crumble… And crumble
So all you see is the me I need you to see
I feel the tears tumble over onto my cheeks, but can’t move to brush them away. His vo
ice is surrounding me, cocooning me in its warmth, in the tenderness of the words, in the sweet music from the piano.
Can’t play well my ass. I bet he does everything well.
Finally the song comes to an end and he takes a deep breath and grins at the audience. He stands and waves, gives a small bow, and runs off the stage to me, scooping me up into his arms.
“Oh my God!” I exclaim and wrap my arms around his neck.
“Did you like it?” He asks and leans back to look into my eyes.
“It’s fantastic,” I respond and kiss him soundly.
“It’s yours.”
“I hope so, or I’d have to cut a bitch.” I immediately respond and he lets out a belly laugh, holding me tightly against him. “It’s the best gift I’ve ever been given, thank you.” I murmur in his ear and he grins widely. Proudly.
“Let’s go back stage.” He pulls me behind him as the band resumes their place on stage to finish out their set. I didn’t even notice that the security twins had been standing behind me the whole time, and they follow us now. One of them hands Leo his jacket.
There is a decent-sized group of people back stage waiting for the band. Some in business attire, who I assume are industry people. Some look like family members or friends of the band.
And there are more than a few groupies.
Leo leads me in, my hand gripped firmly in his, and begins introducing me to people he knows. I’ll never remember their names or even their faces, but the fact that he keeps me next to him and includes me in every conversation says a lot about this man.
He cares about me.
The band comes barreling in the room, reaching for beers and high-fiving each other, obviously happy with their show.
The room is electric with energy.
“Dude!” The lead singer charges for us and tackles Leo in a hug. “Nice song, bro.” He winks at Leo and smiles down at me. “I’m Lance.”
“Sam,” I respond and shake his hand.
“How long are you in town?” He asks Leo.
“A while. We’re recording the next album here,” Leo responds. “I’d like you to come in and help out on a few tracks.”
Lance’s eyes spark with interest and he grins. “Done.”
“Cool.”
“Great show, babe.” A pretty redhead hugs Lance from behind and he turns to pull her in his arms.