Rock God, page 21
“Really?” Her eyes widened, and for the first time in several days, she looked excited about something.
“The guys already have ideas for the bridge and chorus. They’re really excited about it.”
“Did you tell them about us?” she asked knowingly.
I shrugged. “No, but they know. They can see how I look at you.”
“How do you look at me?”
“Like you’re one of the most important people in the world to me.”
Her eyes got a little misty and she lifted a hand to cup my cheek. “Thank you.”
“Babe, you sure nothing’s wrong?” I asked. “You haven’t been yourself the last few days. Did something happen? Did I do something?”
She swallowed, staring at me. “Wh-what do you mean?”
“You’ve been off the last few days. I can see it in your eyes, and if it’s me, I wish you’d tell me so I can make it right.”
“No. God, no.” She shook her head emphatically. “You’re perfect.”
I doubted that, but it was nice to hear her say it.
“You’d tell me if something was going on, right?”
“Of course. Now come on—they’re waiting for us.” She turned and headed back to the studio, leaving me no choice but to follow.
All I could do was promise myself I’d attempt to pry something out of her before Christmas.
The rest of the rehearsal was phenomenal.
We put the finishing touches on “Symphony of the Broken” in less than two hours. It came together so well we had to sit down and vote on whether or not to add it to the upcoming set list. That was how great it felt to play it as a five-person unit. I’d thought it sounded good with two of us on the piano, but with the rest of the instruments? It was going to blow people away. Hell, I was already itching to make this a single. If we could cross the rock and pop barriers, we’d have a very big hit.
My thoughts were swirling with the possibilities, but first we had to get through the holidays.
“We can put it in instead of ‘Cool Off,’” Z was saying as I tuned back in to the conversation. “That’s a fun one, but this one could potentially hit. Chicks love these broken-hearted heavy ballads. Especially when King gets all gravelly and raw.”
“That’s an idea,” I agreed, ignoring his comment as I glanced at Devyn. “What do you think, Dev? You want to play it live?”
“But no one knows it,” she said with a slight frown. “And people want to hear the stuff they love at shows like this. From a fan’s perspective, I get frustrated when I go to see a band I love and they play shit I don’t know.”
I shook my head. “Yeah, but this would be one song out of fifteen. And we throw new songs into the mix all the time. That’s partly how we decide whether or not they make it on to an album. We test them. And this one will resonate. Believe me, they’re going to love the fact that no one else has heard it yet. Trust me.”
I seemed to say that to her a lot, and she must have been thinking the same thing because her eyes twinkled when they met mine.
“You know I do.”
“Perfect. So, we’ll revamp the set for those last couple of rehearsals after Christmas and see how the fans react.”
“Then we’ll need a piano if we want to do it right,” Devyn said. “Can we make that happen at the eleventh hour?”
Tommy snorted. “Do you even know Kingston Knight? He can make fucking anything happen. He snaps his fingers and people jump to attention.”
I grinned. “I’ve been toying with the idea for a month or so anyway. So fingers snapped a while ago.”
“Sasha and Ross are going to kill you,” Tommy said, laughing.
“Ross already had a head’s up that I might want to go that route and Sasha doesn’t care. We’re not spending her money.”
We talked logistics for a few minutes and then everyone got ready to go, since Tommy was flying home to Wisconsin to see his family, Kellan had plans with friends, and Z and Presley were hosting a Christmas Eve open house. I was flying to Fort Lauderdale to spend a few days with my family, and my mom and younger brother would be there too. I’d been trying to convince Devyn to come with me, but she didn’t want to leave Greatty and said two back-to-back trips would be too much for her. The trip to London was more important, so we’d made the difficult decision to spend Christmas apart.
“I really hate leaving you at Christmas,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around her once we were the only ones left at the studio. She moved against me, winding her arms around my neck.
“It’s just a few days,” she said softly, pretty blue eyes searching my face. “You’ll be back on the twenty-seventh, and we all leave for London on the twenty-ninth.”
We’d decided to leave a day earlier than originally planned since we had so many friends and family members flying on the private jet with us.
“I know, but it’s our first Christmas.”
“How did rock and roll’s biggest playboy become the world’s sweetest boyfriend in two months?” she demanded.
I’d been wondering the same thing the last few weeks.
“I dunno,” I said aloud.
“Send my best to your family,” she said. “Tell them I’m looking forward to meeting them.”
“You’re going to meet them via video,” I replied. “You don’t think you’re going to open your presents without me watching?”
“You bought me presents? Plural?” She looked horrified.
I laughed. “Duh.”
“Kingston! I didn’t get you anything. I thought we’d do something special in Europe or—”
“I don’t need material things,” I interrupted. “Truly. My family doesn’t even give me stuff unless it’s something sentimental or a gag gift. Accordingly, everything I got you has special meaning for us. I also got Greatty a case of the 2019 Isosceles, and I absolutely need to see her face when she sees it.” It was her favorite red wine and at approximately seventy bucks a bottle, I knew they only bought it on special occasions.
“Oh, Kingston.” She rose up to kiss me and our mouths moved together easily.
I loved kissing her and didn’t know how I was going to go three days without doing it.
I really hated that she wasn’t coming to Florida with me.
“You’re a thousand percent sure you don’t want to come?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.
“I’m sure. I’ll see you on the twenty-seventh. If you want, I can be waiting for you.”
“Naked?”
“On the piano.”
“Oh, baby, that will be the best belated Christmas present ever.”
“But you can get that anytime,” she said, wrinkling her nose.
“There’s no reason why I can’t get my favorite thing in the world every day of the year.”
32
Devyn
Kingston spoiled the hell out of us for Christmas.
Greatty squealed with delight when she opened the case of wine, and then she sat with her feet tucked under her watching me open mine. The pair of Louboutins were my favorite and I immediately slipped them on. I would never have bought myself a pair of thousand-dollar shoes, but after our conversation about me wearing heels, obviously Kingston was showing me just how much he paid attention to things that were important to me.
Like the incredible red-bottomed shoes by Charles Louboutin.
Classic black pumps with a skinny heel and a little strap around the ankle.
They were going to be my favorite item of clothing and I planned to be wearing nothing but those damn shoes when he got home.
There were other things too, like a Betsey Johnson handbag shaped like a hot pink corset, a pair of glittery, turquoise Doc Martens, and the most amazing one-of-a-kind dress by Alexa Humboldt, made specifically to be worn on stage when I performed. It was a rich blood-red color, with black trim and ties. It laced up the front and back, showing off cleavage, and the kerchief style bottom would show off my legs when I moved during a show. There were no words to describe how much I loved it.
“There’s one more package,” Kingston said after I’d run to put it on and model it for him since he’d called using FaceTime.
“Kingston, this is too much,” I said.
“Open it.” He looked as gorgeous as ever in a plain gray T-shirt, his hair sticking up a little as he lounged outside by his brother’s pool.
The last package was more like a large manilla envelope, and I slowly pulled out the contents. It seemed to be a contract of some kind and I frowned as I read it.
It mentioned “Symphony of the Broken,” with wording that had to do with writing credits and royalties and a bunch of things I didn’t completely understand.
But I wasn’t stupid.
He’d done something amazing for me.
He was giving me the sole writing credit for the song.
So, if Onyx Knight wanted to perform it, they would have to buy it from me.
And I’d make royalties for writing that song for the rest of my life.
I blinked away tears and took a deep breath.
“Kingston.”
“I want you to have something of your own,” he said quietly. “No matter what happens with the band or me.”
“Kingston.” I swiped at my eyes, trying to keep from crying.
“You wrote the song long before you ever met me.”
“But we wrote the lyrics together and then the band added some finishing touches that are fantastic.”
“We did, but we added performance touches. We had no part in the creation of the idea. The melody, title, and early lyrics were all yours. Once we register it, that’s it. It’s yours forever.”
“It should have all of our names on it,” I whispered.
“Nope. We talked about it and the guys all agree this one is yours.”
“You guys split all the songs, on every album, equally.”
“Except this one.”
“Kingston…” Words seemed to be failing me.
“Say thank you!” Greatty stage whispered. “Do you remember a single one of the manners I taught you growing up?”
I sniffled, shaking my head. “Thank you doesn’t feel like an adequate phrase for this. I mean, seriously, Kingston. This might be the best gift anyone has ever given me.”
“You mean it’s not that damn American Girl doll you wanted when you were ten? The one I had on layaway for months so I could afford it?” Greatty demanded, shaking her head. “I see how you are. You are never getting another doll from me, that’s for sure.”
All three of us cracked up, lightening the mood.
“I need to know what doll you’re talking about,” Kingston said when we’d stopped laughing.
“I still have her,” I replied. “I’ll get her out next time I see you.”
“Cool.”
“I’m going to go get dressed,” Greatty said. “We have to leave soon. Thank you again for the wine, Kingston. You’ll have to come over for dinner and share a bottle when you get back.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” he told her.
“Hang on a second.” I got up and carried the phone to my bedroom, closing the door to give us a few minutes of privacy.
“Merry Christmas, babe,” he said.
“Merry Christmas.”
“You guys going to the soup kitchen?”
“Yeah, we’ll go around eleven to help set up for dinner.”
“Remy and Noelle have a bunch of people coming over, so I might be hard to reach for a few hours.”
“That’s okay. We’re going to work at the soup kitchen and then drop off gifts for the kids in the cancer ward at the children’s hospital, so we’ll probably be out until early evening.”
“Okay. I’ll call you tonight then.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him I loved him, but there was something I had to do before I could say those words. He deserved to have all of me if I was going to say something so important, and until I told him about my past, he didn’t have it.
“I miss you,” I blurted out instead.
“I miss you too. But I’ll be home late tomorrow and we can make up for it.”
“I can’t wait to thank you in person.”
“I’m very much looking forward to that.”
I felt terrible that I hadn’t bought anything for Kingston for Christmas, but there hadn’t been anything I could think of that felt like the appropriate gift. I couldn’t afford to buy him something memorable, like a Rolex, or anything as exotic as plane tickets for us to travel somewhere. I wasn’t poor, but I certainly wasn’t a millionaire like him, and Kingston already had all the fancy cars, jewelry, and clothes he needed.
“Maybe the best gift isn’t something tangible,” Greatty said as we drove. “Time together might mean something to him, outside of songwriting and lovemaking. Or write a song about him. Maybe a poem or something emotionally intimate.”
“I feel like that’s what we did with ‘Symphony of the Broken.’ I brought that to him as a kind of gift to the band, because I’d had a feeling they would like it. I was saving it for the perfect situation and the moment they asked me to be in the band, I’d known that was exactly what I’d been saving it for.”
“Then maybe the best gift you can give him is honesty,” she said softly. “Tell him about your past, the porn, and everything Larry did. Both with you and to you.”
I grimaced. “And what if he decides he can’t be with someone who used to do porn?”
“We talked about this. If that’s the kind of thing that bothers him, then he’s not the man we think he is and he certainly doesn’t deserve you.”
“There’s nothing special about me,” I said quietly.
“Everything about you is special,” she responded in a firm voice. “And while I like Kingston very much, you are and always will be my first priority. If he hurts you, he’s dead to me.”
I smiled, turning into the parking lot of the shelter where we’d been volunteering for several years.
“I love you, Greatty.”
“Of course you do.” She got out of my car, and we gathered up the things we’d brought with us. I was donating some clothes I didn’t wear anymore, and she’d stocked up on basics to donate to the shelter.
“You going to flirt with Big Mike today?” I teased, referring to a homeless man she’d gotten friendly with over the last year. He was probably only in his sixties, but they seemed to have become good friends and I liked giving her a hard time about it.
She lifted her chin. “None of your business.”
I laughed. “Okay, then.”
“Good morning!” The director of the shelter, Chandra Myers, called out as we walked in.
“Merry Christmas!” Greatty immediately went over to chat with some of the volunteers she was friendly with. She volunteered here often. I honestly didn’t have the time with my work schedule, but I knew everyone too, and I waved as we began setting up for the rush of people who would probably start lining up around one or one-thirty.
“We got a very nice donation yesterday,” Chandra said, her eyes twinkling as she looked at me.
“Oh?” I asked, confused. “From whom?”
“Your band!” She grinned. “Fifty big ones.”
“The guys donated fifty thousand dollars?” I asked in surprise.
“Yup. I’ve already put in an order for a few more beds, new linens for everyone, and non-perishable food items. That kind of money makes such a difference. So, thank you for telling them about us.”
“I…” I wasn’t sure if I’d ever told them the name, but when it was all said and done, what difference did it make? Kingston had probably called Greatty to ask her so he could surprise me. He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately, and it was nice.
He was nice.
Well, he was more than nice.
He was an exceptional human being.
Gorgeous, talented, kind, and rich.
Not to mention good in bed, generous, and a smart businessman.
I wasn’t sure how anything could possibly make him more attractive.
No, Kingston was the whole package, and I was being ridiculous by holding on to my secrets.
The only way for us to move forward as a couple was for me to tell him everything. Otherwise, it would always be hanging over my head, affecting not just my personal life, but also the band.
And the last thing I wanted to do was something that could impact Onyx Knight.
I was one of them now.
What happened to them would also happen to me, so in order to protect myself, I had to protect them.
I’d already spoken to my lawyer, who’d assured me nothing I’d done was illegal. She’d also said there was nothing in my contract with Onyx Knight that prevented me from doing porn or having done porn, like a morality clause or anything.
The only wild card was how Kingston and the others would react to the news.
That was what scared me most, of course.
“You’re her!” Someone spoke from behind me, startling me, and I turned to see one of the regulars at the shelter giving me a toothless grin.
“Hi, Harvey,” I said, smiling back at the elderly Vietnam veteran.
“You’re the new bass player for Onyx Knight,” he said, eyeing me. “I thought it was you that night at the Whiskey, but I couldn’t get close enough to talk to you.”
“What were you doing on Sunset?” I demanded, since I knew he lived here at the shelter, which was more than twenty miles from Hollywood.
“One of my buddies came and picked me up. We’re big fans.” He nodded. “We was gonna try to get tickets, but I didn’t have the dough.”
“Next time we play locally, you’ll come as my guest,” I promised him. “I didn’t know you were a fan, but now that I do, I’ll keep it in mind.”
“You’re a good girl.” He smiled but then his face turned serious. “You gotta be careful, though.”
“Careful of what?” I asked.
He flushed, the tanned skin of his cheeks turning pink. “A bunch of people here at the shelter—we know.”
