One Kiss from the King of Rock (The One Book 2) Read online

  “I’d rather Isaac did throw me off the stage.”

  He shook his head. “The older you get, the harder it will be to break out.”

  She wasn’t intending to, it was another question of timing, but really, why was she waiting? “Once upon a time I might’ve wanted this.” Maybe that was true. She’d been opposed to it for so long it was a shock to find standing on the stage imagining it was such a thrill.

  “There you—”

  Unbelievable. She wheeled to face Errol. “You’re not listening. I don’t want this. I never wanted to be a performer. I wanted to be a session singer or a songwriter but that wasn’t good enough for you. I know you manipulated it so that Jay and I broke up, Dad.”

  “No, I—” He put his hand over his face. That fact she’d called him Dad made this extra serious.

  “You never thought he was good enough for me. Or for the band. You told Jay he was holding me back. You wanted us to break up. You made me hate the idea of becoming a musician. I got my own company out of that, but you’ll never understand what I lost in Jay.”

  Head dropped, chin almost on his chest, Errol said, “I never meant to hurt you. I don’t want you to have regrets, and we all know how wrong I was about Jay. I don’t blame him for telling you.”

  “He didn’t tell me.”

  Errol took a step back. He’d turned an unhealthy shade of gray, as if she’d thrown him off the stage and broken his spirit. A kinder, more respectful daughter might be worried about that.

  “When did you, how. . .? I only wanted you to use your talent. You have incredible potential.”

  “No, you only wanted me to be someone I’m not and you still do.” Thank the music gods he’d never know she’d written a new song, it’d only breathe green hope into his ambitions. Jay would never expose her in that way.

  “Evie, that’s not how it is.”

  Everyone was looking at them. This was unprofessional. “I love you, Dad, but it’s going to take a while until I can forgive you for trying to make my decisions for me and I’m going to need to believe you’re proud of me for who I am today, not what I might’ve been, before we’re okay again.”

  Errol’s shade of gray turned to pumice as Evie turned away.

  Wow, like the shot of fear Isaac had given her, she felt taller, stronger. Who knew honesty was a good osteopath?

  She left Errol standing in the middle of the stage and made for the shelter of the back of house. She’d go chill out on her own for a while, let that dust settle and drink some water to try to starve off the headache that that was knocking for entry on her skull.

  Jay had said he was proud of her, but that’d sounded a false note. As much as she tried to unhear it, it was a faint whisper of misgiving. He’d been so happy when she was messing about with Suzy Q, she couldn’t help but think that like Errol, he still saw her as not having lived up to her potential, that he’d love her more completely if she was the person he’d sacrificed for.

  That’s why this was a timing issue. If she was going to let Jay kiss her, she needed to be sure of him.

  Once she kissed him, the lid would come off her reticence and doubt and everyone would smell the delicious seasoning of a second chance and take a bite out of them. They might not be strong enough for that yet. She might not ever be strong enough for it.

  There was chilled bottle water at a refreshment station and she took one and sat on a packing crate. What reason had Jay given her to doubt him? It could be that her old wound was a tender spot, itching as it fully healed. She couldn’t hold Jay accountable for that.

  If she only agreed to a kiss when he next asked that would make him wonder why she’d held out so long, too much of an anti-climax for all its budding sweetness. If she waited too long Jay would be interstate. That would increase the pressure on their next meet-up. She could hardly jump a jet and go see him in Melbourne or Adelaide and keep their relationship under wraps or pretend he didn’t deserve a proper kiss.

  There were some obvious moments. After the high of the first Sydney show, but that was also the moment everyone else would want to claim him and she didn’t want to have to fight for access to his lips. Right before he went on stage. There was some dramatic stuff in that. No, what if that threw him and affected his performance; that would be unforgiveable. She could pick a quiet time when they were at the hotel. That was likely the best course of action, but she wanted this first kiss to mean something more than the sex that would be swift and inevitable if they were alone in his hotel room.

  Yeah, she wanted that full-body experience, but she’d never denied Jay entry to her body. That was his thing, a way having some control of his own. They could both go on being extremely sexually satisfied without P penetrating V but not kissing with every resource they had was increasingly frustrating.

  Jay was a truly great kisser. From the first time they’d pashed she’d known it made him a keeper. He treated a kiss like an instrument. Respected it, understood the infinite variety of it and that it was a unique partnership between lip and mouth and tongue in duet with the lip and mouth and tongue of a whole other person.

  Jay’s kisses had meaning, told stories with a beginning, middle and an end that fed upon the story her lips told him. Iterations of warmth and desire, spliced with impatience and lust and all the information Evie needed to find her place in the world.

  A kiss on the lips from Jay was a tone sounded right through her body, a tune-up in preparation for the passion to follow.

  She was gagging for it.

  She finished off the water. The headache was still threatening to make an appearance, but she’d made a decision. Her timing was off for confronting Errol, though she was glad it was done, and no time was better than now, when Jay had no reason to expect it, for the first kiss of their second chance to happen.

  She sent him a text. Are you still here? He might not respond to her message. He was a professional and wouldn’t stop a meeting to read his phone. She could go in search of him, but this was a big place and he could be anywhere, and she didn’t want to run into Errol or the boys again today.

  There were iced donuts at the refreshment station. Donuts were good for headaches. That had to be a thing, right? She ate a donut and checked her phone to find his text response. A photo of the stage from way back captioned Meet you at the worst seats in the house.

  That meant a lot of climbing, up to the furthest row of seating. She was going to burn off that donut and when she kissed Jay, she’d taste of chocolate and baked goodness.

  And he’d taste of opportunity.

  SIXTEEN

  From where Jay sat, way up in row 396, where they could have some privacy, Evie was a little ant commencing her climb. When she’d stood on that stage and opened her arms wide, chin high and a huge smile on her face, she’d looked like an absolute star.

  He didn’t know what to make of that. She didn’t look like she was messing about so much as trying the space on for size.

  She wasn’t lying when she said she didn’t want to be a performer, but he worried she’d dug her heels in about it and then reinforced her opposition by having to defend her decision year after year. That kind of setup didn’t allow her to easily reconsider. She’d have to back down and Evie wasn’t one for backing.

  Which was something he needed to remember, because it applied to him.

  He slumped back into the unforgiving plastic chair. Evie was dog-sized now. She’d stopped to catch her breath, hand over her eyes to shield them from the sun. He waved. She gave him big-dog energy and what he guessed was a fuck-you gesture.

  He had no doubt she could record the new song and have a hit on her hands. It wasn’t the kind of song that played to stadiums like this. It was the kind that sat around at the top of the pop charts for weeks and got people excited and sold albums faster than rockets, then got licensed for a movie or a TV show and a decade later for a big advertising campaign.

  It was better than anything he’d written for a year or more. />
  He’d listened to the song a dozen times. When they first started playing, Evie was hesitant, focused on laying down words, not how they sounded, and uncharacteristically self-conscious. By the time he recorded her, she’d virtually forgotten he was there. She was deep into the flow and sang full-throated. She’d come out of it exhausted and triumphant. Fucking awesome moment for celebratory kisses. He’d made do with carrying her to bed and making her little spoon. It was no hardship.

  Evie hadn’t moved other than to type something on her phone. That thing was nearly permanently attached to her hand and when she talked about Tice Social it was with pride and ambition for how she wanted it to grow.

  With the exception of the uncomfortable revelations of how they screwed up last time around, nothing with Evie was a hardship. Yeah, he wanted her lips so badly, he was a little fixated on getting them—a lot fixated.

  Fiercely fixated.

  But everything else in the bedroom department was earth-shattering, carefully boxed up and labeled either joyful annihilation, merciful tenderness or passionate beast. It would be sacrilege to pick a favorite mood. It was a surprise how easy it was to give away the notion that his true sexual satisfaction was only to be found in Evie’s vagina. His ten years ago self would never have believed that was a possibility. As usual, Evie was one step in front of him. She’d known denying him kisses would be the biggest penalty.

  And she had to know it would make him scheme for one like he was Errol’s successor.

  Evie did the next bracket of stairs while talking to someone. The sound of her explaining how to use some kind of photo animating software drifted up to him and made him smile. By the time she finished the call she was close enough that he could see the flush on her face. One flight of stairs later, she threw herself into a seat two to his left. O to his M.

  “You know how to take a girl right to the, oh God,” she gasped, “top.” She made a blowfish face at him and bent forward, breathing heavily and holding the top of her head. “No wonder they call these seats the nosebleeds.”

  “I’m just trying to keep things on the lowdown. Are you going to keep sitting all the way over there?” This seating arrangement wasn’t increasing his chances of getting kissed.

  “I should’ve eaten two—” she breathed. “Ah, shit, I’m out of condition, and my head is pounding. Donuts.”

  “You got donuts with your site inspection?”

  She sat upright. “It’s not who you know.”

  He could sidle over, but maybe giving her space was a more considerate way of getting her lips. “I saw you on the stage down there from the array line.”

  “Amateur hour to get into a fight with your dad in front of people who are supposed to help us look and sound good.”

  He twisted to face her. “Okay, I didn’t see that bit.”

  “He wasn’t going to throw me off the stage, the dirtbag.”

  “What?”

  “Isaac. He’s excited bordering on terrified. We all are. A stadium show is a big deal for Lost Property.”

  “I didn’t see that bit either.” He circled a finger. Rewind. “Go back to the fight part.” In their own way, the Tice boys worshiped Evie. It was unfortunate that part of their own way was never to let on about that, but a fight with Errol was something to be concerned about.

  “Tell me what you did see first,” she said.

  “You, looking like you were measuring the place up to see how it’d fit you.”

  She snorted. “Imagine that.”

  He didn’t buy the brush-off. “Did you?”

  Evie grinned. A private smile that wasn’t for him, like she’d slipped back to that moment and was reliving it, enjoying it. Her eyes were down on her lap, but whatever she was seeing was far more interesting than her blacked-out phone screen with the little Tice Social logo and a massive message count glowing on it.

  “Want to slide over here and tell me about it?” he said, patting the seat beside him. Desperado.

  “What, sorry? Oh, that.” There was no sidling. “It’s so different to the theater and festival venues my bands play. It’s wild how much confidence you need to stand there and know you’re responsible for thousands and thousands of people enjoying themselves and do it every night for weeks.” Her eyes met his. “You are something else, Jay.”

  If he sidled now, it could look like he was asking for more compliments. “It’s a skill you learn. I had to. Start small, work up to it.” Evie could do that if she wanted it badly enough.

  “That’s what Errol said.” She gave him side-eye. “I stood on a blank stage and faced an empty stadium and I could feel the immensity of it.” She put her hand to her chest. “Fear and power. It’s a potent combo.”

  There was nothing like it. Superhero-level adrenaline high for hours afterwards. It still scared him. Wasn’t unheard of for him to vomit before going on stage and again when he came off. Once he’d blanked out up there, forgot lyrics, forgot what city he was in. It was funny and a heart attack at the same time. It was only a momentary lapse that he’d recovered from, but it’d felt like he was outside his body looking at himself on stage and thinking how absurd the whole thing was. Remembering that made his stomach lurch.

  While the site inspection was a laid-back affair, tech rehearsals and sound checks over the next two days would test his calm. He had a knack for looking like he was unaffected by the stress of his life most of the time, but he’d barely sleep, have trouble eating and retreat to a moody silence until after that first show. He needed to tell Evie so he didn’t spook her.

  She was looking at the stage. “For a few seconds, I pretended I could handle the sound and fury of that kind of fame.” She turned a pensive look his way. “It’d be terrifying.” She shook her head and patted the seat beside her. “I’d probably love it.”

  The world would probably love her, but not as much as Jay did. He moved into the seat beside her, trying not to grimace at the fact they now sat in N and O.

  She leaned into his side. “I told Errol he and I are not good with each other because of what he did to you and me.”

  “How did he take that?” He smoothed her hair behind her ear, so he could get to her piercing.

  “Did a good imitation of all the variants of gray in a Dulux paint chart. He thought you told me what he did. I’m guessing you already had it out with him.”

  Oh shit. “I promised I wouldn’t tell you. I hoped he’d talk to you himself.”

  She shifted, bending forward to rest her elbows on her thighs. “I don’t know how that makes me feel. Conspired against. Again.”

  He put his fingertips to her back, hoping she wouldn’t flinch away. “I’d never conspire against you, least of all with Errol. It wasn’t for me to tell you what he did.”

  “I should be furious with you about that, but I get the point.” Evie’s weight against his hand was a relief. “There’s no way I’d have listened to you if you’d led with blaming my dad.” She threw her leg over his and hell, that was promising. “I was going to lead with something else now that we’re up here in the clouds,” she said.

  He put his lips to the shell of her ear. “I’m your most devoted follower.”

  She shivered and shifted, sliding into his lap and laying her head against his shoulder. “I like the sound of that.”

  He could take the first kiss. They hadn’t discussed a rule about who initiated it. Warming his lips up on her neck made her sigh and settle more heavily in his arms. He was tense with the wanting of it, but it would be more of a victory if Evie offered.

  “Where are we going, wild thing?” he said into her skin. Anywhere, anywhere with her. He would find a way. Maybe she knew it, she was humming a tune. It wasn’t a lip lock but it was equally magical.

  “You can fly without wings and fear on your side. You can die without fear and fame along for the ride. Not cool, that power. Only pure hearts in flower. Out of control on the hour. You can fly without wings if they,” she laughed. “I’m stuck.”<
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  “Conspire,” he said.

  She turned sideways and traced a finger over his lips. “That’s it. Artists and fans conspire together. It’s a grand plot, a big love fest, especially at a show like this.”

  Exactly the reason he still got nervous. Performers had a contract with fans to deliver to their expectations but none of that was clearly written down or fixed in a foolproof way that you could plan for. It was a colossal mystery how he’d come this far, and it was an iron weight in the knowledge that it could end at any moment with a bang or slow leak that no one would ever find to plug. If he had to choose what was most important to him, his rock star life or the woman in his lap, it was no contest. He’d made the wrong choice once, he wouldn’t do that again.

  “You’ve got songs in you, Evie.” He ignored the vibrating phone in his pocket and ran his nose up her cheek and kissed her temple. Those sickening nerves were waiting, plotting, but he didn’t feel them now and maybe with Evie around it wouldn’t be so bad. “That’s where it all starts.”

  “It’s being around you.”

  Now she’d do it. Finally, an epic lip symphony. His phone stopped. “They were always there. You hoarded them.” And started again. “Hey, I want you to know that I’m going to get stuck in my head until we play that first gig, but I want you with me.”

  She took his face in her hands and oh man, her expression was sunlit beach and crystal-clear waters, and he could fly without wings.

  “You’re vibrating,” she said.

  All over.

  “Jay, your phone.”

  Jesus suffering fuck. “Ignore it.”

  She kissed the tip of his nose and when she climbed off his lap he learned that disappointment tasted like rusty metal. “We have time. I’ll see you tonight,” she said.

  It’d be unprofessional to focus on her arse as she took the stairs. Useful that he could multitask. He took the call and when it was done, he found Evie had sent him a cool photo of her and the guys on stage.