I Want You to Want Me (Rock Star Romance #2) (8 page)

“Why the fuck not?” Derek knocked back the whole cup into his mouth and swallowed them with the fresh lemonade she’d made. He smacked his lips when he’d finished.

Violet couldn’t help smiling at his willingness to play along. Most of her clients fought every step of the way—sometimes for weeks. These guys were pretty decent.

Picking up Cooper’s cup, she took out the large white pill. “Everyone gets this one. It’s a multivitamin.” She pulled out two others. “And I’ve given everyone milk thistle and dandelion for your livers.”

Cooper tossed his napkin on the table. “Jesus. We’re not alcoholics.”

“Of course not. But the amount of alcohol you
do
consume is definitely more than your livers can handle, so while we’re scaling back, why not help it heal a little? Can’t hurt.”

When Derek offered the serving spoon to Pete, he batted it away. It clanged against the CorningWare plate.

“Fuck this shit.” The keyboardist pushed his chair back and stomped off to his bedroom, slamming the door so hard the framed artwork on the wall rattled.

“Sorry about that,” Emmie said.

“Oh, please. Don’t even worry about it.” She drank some lemonade. “You guys are easy compared to most of my clients.”

“This is so fucked up,” Cooper said. “No offense, but it’s not like we’re out of control.”

A knock on the door got Ben on his feet and racing to open it.

Slater chewed, swallowed, then drank some lemonade. “It’s not bad.”

“I like it.” Emmie looked at Derek and Cooper. “You should try it.”

Neither said a word.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about.” Ben came back to the table with two boxes of pizza.

“Pizza’s here,” Cooper shouted toward the bedroom.

Pete came out, headed into the kitchen, and grabbed some beers. He slammed them down on the table.

Tension filled the room. Emmie looked uncomfortable, like she needed to do something. But there was nothing she—or anyone—could do. It took time. Violet wasn’t worried. She watched as the guys tore open the pizza boxes, twisted the caps off the beers, and dug into their dinner.

“Are you as cool inside as you look on the outside?” Derek reached for a slice of pizza. “Because nothing seems to faze you. Not even Pete’s stanky dreads.”

Emmie nearly snorted lemonade out her nose. Everyone laughed.

“Fuck you, asshole,” Pete said. “I like it, and the chicks love it. And it’s a hell of a lot better than what I used to have, right, Em?”

Violet noticed the look of affection in Pete’s gaze as he regarded Emmie. A pang of envy struck her—these guys were so tight. No matter their troubles, they really liked each other. They were better than a family because they’d
chosen
each other.

She looked at Derek, laughing at something Cooper
said. That night in the bowling alley? She’d wanted so badly to let him in. Feel the stroke of his tongue in her mouth. Have him pour that energy, that
passion
into her. She wanted to know what it would feel like to have his possessive hands all over her body.

God, she’d bet he would just consume her. Nothing hesitant or careful—he’d just take what he wanted from her body.
Yes.
A tremor of excitement rippled down her spine, and the shock to her chest made her sit forward.

She had to stop thinking about him this way. He was a
client
.

Look at her getting carried away with things she couldn’t have. Getting attached to Derek, this band? They saw her as an intruder, someone forced upon them. And as soon as they could be rid of her, they’d gladly see her gone.

“That’s some nasty shit.” Pete flicked a spoonful of quinoa across the table, nailing Cooper in the chest.

“Hey, asswipe.” Laughing, Cooper got up and grabbed the spoon out of his hand, ready to scoop out his own ammo.

Before he could, Derek rose. “Knock it off.”

Eyes practically bulging out of his head, veins and tendons popping from his neck, Pete grabbed a handful of quinoa and hurled it at Derek.

He ducked, and the mess splattered on the carpet. “What the fuck’s the matter with you?”

Derek shot Violet an apologetic look, but she made sure not to reveal any emotion. She didn’t care if they didn’t like the dish, but Pete’s behavior—his agitation—led her to believe he was deeper into his addiction than anyone thought.

“What’s the
matter
?” Pete shoved back from the table, headed into the kitchen. “
She’s
the matter. This whole fucking thing is bullshit.” He grabbed another beer from the refrigerator and came back to the table. Popping the cap, he overturned it into the casserole. “I’m not eating this shit, and I don’t want to fucking bowl. I want to rock, and I want to rock hard.”

“Sit down, Pete.” Slater had a hard look in his eye.

She couldn’t be the only one to notice his jittery, anxious behavior. Or his dilated pupils.

“I don’t want to sit down. I should still be sleeping
because it’s not even noon.” He shot Ben and Cooper a challenging look. “And don’t pretend you don’t agree with me. You’re not on board with this crap any more than I am.”

Derek slammed his glass on the table. “Okay, this shit stops now.” He tossed his napkin on his plate. “Sit the fuck down. We’re having a meeting.”

Pete sat, but he gave off the attitude of a rebellious teenager.

“Whether you like quinoa or bowling isn’t the point. The point is that we’re going to blow ourselves up if we don’t get our shit together. We
are
partying too hard.”

“Fine, I won’t party so hard, but I don’t have to do what she tells me to.”

Emmie and Slater had incredulous looks on their faces, like they couldn’t believe this was their friend.

“You’re right,” Violet said. “You don’t.” Everyone watched her. “I have no power over you. If you want my help, great. Happy to do what I can for you. If you don’t . . . frankly, the success or failure of this band has no effect on me.” She shrugged.

“The success or failure of this band hasn’t got dick to do with a pile of steaming horseshit,” Pete said. “Or your stupid ass herbal pills that’ll just make my piss stink.”

“The steaming pile of horseshit is quinoa. And since you’ve got sound check in an hour, I figured it’d be the best source of energy for you guys. Unlike that slice of pizza, quinoa’s a perfect protein, rich with iron and lysine and amino acids. You’ll get—”

“A good shit,” Ben said.

She laughed. “
That
you can count on. While this,” she said, pointing to the pizza box, “is made of white flour, salt, and fat. It’ll make you lethargic. Which of these is going to give you the energy to perform tonight?”

“There’s nothing wrong with our performances,” Pete said.

“Let me ask you something. What do you want?” Her gaze moved around the table, stopping on each one of the band members.

No one responded. She waited.

Slater cleared his throat, wiped his mouth with the napkin. “I want to make great music.”

Violet smiled at him, appreciating his total willingness to make things work with her. “Great, because you already do. What else do you want?”

He looked to Emmie. “I want my girl to feel safe. I want her happy.”

A knot formed in Violet’s throat. God, the way Slater looked at Emmie. The way he constantly needed to touch her. She couldn’t even imagine having that kind of intense, all-consuming love. To be the center of someone’s world? To be wanted so fiercely?

She used to wonder if she was capable of it, but now? After being around these two, so crazy passionate for each other?

She absolutely yearned for it.

Derek brushed hair off her shoulder. “You okay?”

She nodded, not wanting them to see her lose her composure. “Well, Slater.” Her voice came out funny, so she cleared her throat. “You’re a lucky man. Seems you’ve got everything you want.” She turned to Derek. “What do you want?”

“Since I’m not whipped like that sorry sumbitch, I’ll tell it like it is. I want to go gold. By the end of this tour, I want to go gold.”

“Fuckin’ A, man.” Pete slapped the table so hard the lemonade sloshed in the glasses.

“And then what? After this album goes gold, then what?”

“Then it goes platinum. And then double platinum.” Derek smiled.

“And after that? Once this album has run its course?”

“Then we do it again with another one.”

“So that’s really all you want out of life? To sell records?”

He thumbed his lower lip, looking a little uncomfortable. He stared unseeing at his plate. His gaze swung up to hers abruptly, igniting sparklers in her chest. “Respect.” He spoke quietly, making her feel as if they were the only two in the room. “I want to know I’m good.” He swallowed. “Really good.”

She couldn’t believe this intensely proud man had
opened up to her. Her heart expanded, and she put all the warmth she felt for him into her smile. “Thank you.”

The way he held her gaze so intensely . . . God, it just thrilled and unnerved her. It wasn’t just his world that was foreign to her, it was
him
, his raw, unbridled masculinity, and yet she felt this powerful connection to him. It made no sense, but she
loved
it.

Stop it. Just stop getting carried away. This is nothing but business.

“Yeah, well, I just want to play fuckin’ music.” Pete snatched another slice of pizza, the peppers and sausage toppling off. “Which we’re doing.”

“You are doing it, Pete. But how long will you get to
keep
doing it? What about Irwin? Does your success hinge on whether you keep him as your A&R representative?”

Cooper eyed her over his bottle. Ben stopped chewing.

“We can be successful without Irwin.” Pete dropped back into his seat with a twist to another bottle top. “Our music is fuckin’ great.”

“Well, if everyone agrees with that, then I’m not needed. I suggest you have a band meeting and figure out what you want. No offense to you guys, but I’m used to minding one client at a time. Usually that client needs me in order to keep his job, so he’ll play along. But if you don’t need Irwin, and you have no interest in trying new ways of doing things, then let me go. I have other work I could be doing.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Derek said. The room went quiet, the tension thickened. “I want Irwin. Our music was good, but Irwin made it great. And not only that, but if he doesn’t want to work with us, we’re fucked. Tainted. I’m not sure about all this shit.” He lifted a paper cup and shook it. “But damn straight I’ll give it a go.” He looked down at this plate with a somber expression. “Whatever it takes to get us back on track.”

He looked up, held Slater’s gaze. His friend nodded, the two of them locked in agreement.

“I also like the new schedule,” Derek said. “Most days on the road, I feel like shit, and I don’t get anything done. When was the last time we wrote a song? More than a year
ago? So, yeah, I’m down to try some new ideas.” He seemed to perk up. “Definitely.” He looked to the others.

“Me, too,” Slater said.

“Fuckin’ pussies,” Pete said.

“You guys should discuss this privately. You need to be on the same page.” Violet started to get up. “I’ll give you some time.”

“You’re not leaving.” Derek reached for her arm, his grip sliding from her wrist to her fingers.

“I’m not on board.” Cooper reached for another slice. “Sorry, but we’re doing just fine without you.”

“Then why did Irwin wash his hands of you?” she asked.

Ben swallowed. “We got him back.”

“And if I pack up my bags and go back to the city, will you still have Irwin?”

“No,” Derek shouted. “Jesus, guys. What’s the problem? So we’re in a hotel. So we’re eating this stuff. What’s the big fucking deal?”

“Guys, I’m not going to force you to do anything. It doesn’t hurt my feelings if you don’t eat my quinoa. I’m still going to make healthy food whether or not you eat it because it’s my job. My job is to make you feel so good that you get up on the stage without the use of greenies or cocaine.”

“We’re not druggies,” Cooper said. “Jesus Christ.”

“But you do use drugs.” Violet didn’t back down. “I’ve seen you.” She motioned to the three of them, Pete, Cooper, and Ben. “You might not want me here but have the self-respect to tell the truth.”

Ben and Cooper looked chastised. Pete just took a huge bite of the pizza and washed it down with a swallow of beer.

“Am I wrong that your lifestyle is unsustainable? After a gig, you’re too wired to fall asleep. So you party hard, release a lot of sexual energy, and then need help getting to sleep. Then, you sleep late, spend the day hungover, and yet you need to find the energy to get back onstage and wow the crowd? Am I wrong about that cycle?”

“You’re not wrong.” Slater said. “And it’s not sustainable.”

“Well, I can help you fall asleep without Ambien or Valium or whatever else you’ve been taking. Look, I’m not
judging. I’ve only been here a couple days, and I see how hard it is. It’s exhausting to find the energy to perform like you do every night. But I can also see how you’re going to burn out if you keep doing this. And I’m guessing that’s what Irwin sees. He does this for a living. He can see the trajectory. If all you want is to rock stadiums and get laid, then by all means continue what you’re doing. Bax clearly encourages the lifestyle.”

“No, no,” Emmie said. “I know it looks that way, but Bax has a really hard job. He’s got to keep the band
and
Irwin happy at the same time.”

Violet wanted to say something more about her suspicions but now wasn’t the time. She needed to get some resolution to the problem at hand. “Listen, if you want to make a career out of this and not burn out early, then why not try some of my suggestions? What do you have to lose?”

“I want to get laid,” Pete said, knee jackhammering. “I can’t bring girls back to the hotel, not with you and Emmie here.”

“You also don’t have to come back to the hotel until one. I’m not trying to cut you off from nymphs. But the priority is your performance, and you can’t give your all when you’re run-down and tired. Balance, that’s what I go for. Can you get laid after a show? You bet. Can you have all-night orgies? Not on my watch. But other than that? Talk to me, tell me what you want. You don’t want quinoa, I’ll make something else. The point is we work together to figure out the best way to balance it all.”