MY FAVORITE BAND, page 62
My teeth grit together. That’s just under what I make in a year. “You can’t buy me into this, Adam.”
“Everyone has a price.” He says it so nonchalantly, so flippantly, that I can’t really believe it’s him talking. I may not know him that well, but I know him better than that. “Fifty.”
My shoulders drop, but I just shake my head as I feel tears start to heat behind my eyes.
Great. Just great. Now I’m going to cry in front of my husband.
“Look, the mistake has already been made,” he says, standing and taking a step toward me. My hands are still on my hips, and he rubs my biceps. It’s a sweet and endearing motion, one that tosses me slightly off-balance as I try to reconcile the crush I’ve had on him for years with this new version of him I’m just meeting. “The video is already out there, and your picture is splashed all over the media. Like it or not, your life is going to change. Let’s ride the wave together and have a little fun with the press. No one has to ever know that you also made a little money off of it.”
“Fifty thousand dollars isn’t a little money, Adam. But that’s not the point. If I pretend to be your wife, what does that even mean? Do I have to pretend in front of my family? Do I quit my job to go on tour with your band? Do I move out of my apartment and into your place? There are too many logistics to think about, and it’s never going to work.”
He shrugs. “I guess we get a lawyer involved and draw up a contract to define what it means and who knows the truth versus who doesn’t. We’ll let the lawyer make all those decisions for us.”
“I don’t want someone else deciding what my life is going to look like!” I explode. “I can’t believe you’d even suggest that!”
He nods and closes his eyes, and then he walks over toward the window. His shoulders droop a little in defeat. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
I clear my throat after silence floats between us for a few beats. “I’m not saying no.”
He turns around and opens his mouth to speak, hope back in his eyes. I hold up a hand to stop him before he gets a single word out.
“I’m not saying yes, either. I’m saying I want to be involved in the decisions, and I’m going to need more than fifty thousand. That’s only one year’s salary for me.”
“And I’m only asking you for six months,” he points out.
“Yeah, but what if I have to quit my job and then I can’t find another one after the divorce?” The last word comes out on a squeak as I remember my mother’s words about how Clarkes don’t get divorced. “I’m just looking for an insurance policy.”
“We’ll draw it into the contract,” he promises.
I sigh and walk over to the window. We both look out over the Strip, and I can’t believe how much my life has changed since the last time I looked out over this view a mere fifteen hours ago.
“Let me think about it.”
He tosses a casual arm around my shoulder and presses a soft kiss to my cheek. “Thank you,” he whispers, his warm breath tickling my ear.
I shiver as I breathe him in, but I play it off like it’s cold in here when I cross my arms over my chest and rub my arms with my palms...and then I notice much to my dismay that I’m protecting my heart with my arms once again.
I glance over at him, and I wish I hadn’t.
The hope in his eyes nearly convinces me. This is obviously important to him, and what really is holding me back?
It’s not my bank teller job, though I’m up for a promotion to personal banker in January.
It’s not the fact that I don’t want to be famous by marriage or that my family doesn’t do divorces.
I think it has more to do with the fact that I actually like Adam. I’ve always liked him, and after our conversation last night—before the wedding, obviously—I felt like we had a real connection. And then we messed it all up by getting married.
“I’ll leave you alone to think,” he says.
I press my lips together and give him a small smile and a nod.
When the door closes with a small click behind him, it’s then that I remember something crucial.
I actually have nowhere to live since Chad and I broke up just before I left for Vegas.
Adam isn’t just offering me money. He’s offering the potential to change my future.
And maybe we pretend for the press...but what if it turns into more?
CHAPTER 14: ADAM
“What the fuck happened to your hair?” Brody asks Rascal.
We’re having an emergency band meeting before we take the stage for our first show at the Mandalay Bay.
Rascal laughs. “It’s between Amber and me.”
Brody gives him a look that clearly says he’s stupid and it’s a stupid answer, and then Kylie, who is all business all the time, starts the meeting.
She fills everyone in on the proposal for Rock on the Road. Dax and Mark are working with our lawyers to get an expedited contract together, and I have a call into them to get our marriage contract drawn up—along with a nondisclosure agreement for everyone in the know about our mistake—just in case Emily agrees.
It’s been six hours.
Since I last saw my wife, I’ve had lunch, a little time to get past my hangover, a soundcheck, a fan meet and greet where I precariously dodged questions about my wedding last night, and a quick rehearsal for tonight’s performance.
I realize I said I’d give her time to think, but what’s there to think about?
And it’s not just that.
Rascal showed some of the videos from last night to the other guys in MFB, and they triggered more memories from the time that’s missing.
It’s just flashes of our night together, a series of images, but some of those images are paired with emotions far stronger than I’m prepared to feel for someone I wasn’t expecting to feel them for.
My hand slowly grazing up her thigh.
My mouth on her neck.
The tight bud of her peaked nipple between my lips.
The taste of her sweet pussy as my tongue lapped it.
The feel of her lips wrapping around my dick.
My cock pushing into her.
Taking her from behind.
Kissing her mouth as her soft body moved beneath mine.
The sound of her moans as I pushed her toward the edge of pleasure.
Our bodies rocking together.
Her fingernails clawing at my skin as she moved closer and closer to her orgasm.
The beat and pulse of her release as it pushed me into my own release.
We definitely had sex, and there was definitely no condom, and until this very moment, neither one of us remembered it.
But now that I remember, all I can think about is how I want it to happen again.
And offering her a place in my life for the next six months isn’t just a shot at getting it to happen again. It’s a shot with her—someone so unlikely to be suited for me, but maybe it’s one of those she’s-always-been-right-in-front-of-me-and-I-didn’t-even-notice-her situations.
“You’re offering her more than she’s offering you,” Rascal points out, pulling me out of my thoughts. He stares at me. “Are you okay?”
I’m sure I’m flushed from the memories. I push them away...for now. It’s not the time or the place.
I glare at him. “I’m fine. She’d be giving up her life for me. I can’t expect her to do that.” I say the words because social cues tell me I should, even though expecting her to do that is exactly what I’m doing.
“Didn’t you say she’s wanted you since she was a teenager?” Rascal asks, never one to back down.
“Since before then, actually, but that isn’t the point.” I shake my head at him.
“What is the point, then?” Brody asks. “Why does this have to be the focus of Rock on the Road Revisited?”
“Because the first season on the show highlighted love stories. We saw you and Zoey fall in love and break up and then get engaged,” she says to Brody. “We saw Dax and me strengthening our bond. We saw Kane and Sierra face distance through your first headlining tour. We saw the cost that fame and being on the road had on Adam’s relationship with Bree.” She looks over at Rascal. “And Rascal was there, too.”
Everyone laughs.
“But if we’re revisiting MFB on this tour, we need that crucial love story angle. What would be better than starting with a wedding and showing the newlyweds in love and ending the season with another wedding?”
“Another wedding?” Brody asks, tilting his head in confusion.
Kylie looks over at Dax, who’s smiling.
“We picked a date,” he says. “March twenty-seventh.”
“As in three and a half months?” Brody asks, and Dax nods. “Why so soon?”
I look back and forth between Dax and Kylie. He’s grinning, and she’s glowing, and it dawns on me...a quick wedding matched with their desire to push the attention on me and my marriage...
She’s pregnant.
She’s pregnant and she wants the heat off of them and on someone else. I haven’t quite figured out why yet, but the pieces always come together.
I catch Kylie’s eye, and I’m about to ask if that’s the reason when her eyes widen and she shakes her head just slightly. I close my mouth, but that confirms it—and it also confirms that she doesn’t want everyone to know, but she knows I figured it out.
“Because we can’t wait to spend the rest of our lives together,” she says.
We’re a band of brothers, and that pronouncement is met with a whole bunch of eye rolling and fake gagging noises.
“Congratulations,” I finally say.
“Thanks,” Dax says, and both he and Kylie are smiling so widely that I can’t help but wish I had that.
I’ve always wished for it, and I had it for a while with Bree...but now I don’t, and if I pretend to be married to someone for the next six months, I won’t have it for at least that long. I’ll be taking myself out of the dating pool for at least that period of time, maybe longer since theoretically I’ll have to have some time to get over my marriage once it ends. And I’ll be forcing Emily out of the dating pool as well, which might not really be fair to her.
The door opens, and Mitch, our tour manager, walks through. Standing in the doorway is Emily with Amber by her side, and all six heads sitting at the table swing toward the door as we await her answer.
“Can I, um, talk to Adam?” she asks timidly. Her cheeks are bright red and she looks like she might pass out.
I stand and start to move toward her.
“Yes!” my sister blurts. “Her answer is yes!”
My jaw drops and my heart races in my chest. “Yes?” I ask, my eyes on Emily.
She shrugs. “Let’s give it a try...pending the contract from a lawyer, of course.”
I nod, a grin spreading across my lips, and I haul her up in my arms and swing her around. I don’t even think twice about it when I set her down and plant a kiss on her mouth.
She gives in for half a beat, and then she gently pushes me away. We do have an audience, after all.
And speaking of audiences...
“It’s time,” Mitch says, and I turn toward Emily.
“We’ll talk after the show,” I say, and she nods. I lean in for a hug, and I bury my face in her neck for a minute as more memories from our intimate time together last night plow through me. “Thank you,” I whisper, and I’m not sure what, exactly, I’m thanking her for. It might be for agreeing to do this with me, or it might be for one of the best nights of my life last night...even though neither of us can explicitly remember it.
She trembles in my arms, and then I let her go and head over to the other guys in my band so we can play the fuck out of this place.
And we do.
I take the stage with a new level of confidence and excitement, and it takes me nearly half the show to realize it’s because Emily is backstage watching me. Every time I’ve looked over at her, she’s been singing along. She knows every word to every song, which puts her in the mega-fan category.
Mega-fans aren’t typically what I’d consider relationship material. They only want to be with a band member because of what they know of his public image.
But Emily isn’t just a mega-fan.
She’s someone I already know...someone in my history even though she’s only ever been in the periphery. But suddenly she’s been thrust front and center, and I’m not mad about it.
In all honesty, I could think of worse people to end up married to. If I was going to get blackout drunk last night and do something dumb like marry someone I hardly know, at least it’s my sister’s best friend and not some random mega-fan.
Those images of our night together come back to me in the middle of our eighth song, a slow song with a steady beat that somehow reminds me of the intimacy we shared.
Maybe this whole fake marriage thing won’t be so bad after all.
CHAPTER 15: EMILY
I cross my arms over my chest as I watch MFB perform, bobbing my head and singing along to every song.
In the whirlwind of the last twenty-four hours, I’d forgotten how talented my husband actually is. Every once in a while, I catch him glancing toward the place where I stand. I’m under no illusions that he’s actually looking at me back here, but a girl can dream, can’t she?
I don’t know why I agreed to stay married to him. Maybe it’s because of my chat with his sister—who I’m still mad at for being the one to even suggest we get married—or maybe it’s because I couldn’t stop thinking about the way his breath felt against my neck when he thanked me after I agreed to think about it. He smelled like a day at the beach mixed with a night of passion, and I couldn’t help my shiver at his proximity.
I think deep down I agreed because I have nothing to lose that I haven’t already lost. My family already knows, a million other people already know, and I really hope that little piece of shit Chad knows. What’s the worst that could happen?
When the show’s over, Adam rushes off the stage, makes a beeline right for me, crushes my body to his, and plants a steamy kiss on me.
He’s slick with sweat, but that doesn’t stop me from wrapping my arms around his middle and kissing him back. When he parts from me and his eyes meet mine, there’s heat in his. We stare off for a few beats, and then he guides me by the small of my back toward a hallway.
A kiss that hot can’t be fake. Can it?
As we leave the backstage area, it’s then that I notice the cameras.
It’s with a heavy heart that I realize the kiss wasn’t meant to be real. It was a show for the media, and I have to start getting used to the fact that I’m an actress playing a part now.
When I wake up the next morning, I’m alone in my own bed and much less confused than I was yesterday morning upon waking up.
I’m fully clothed, I’m alone, and I’m headache and hangover free after skipping the booze last night at the after party.
Obviously I’m never drinking again.
Amber slept in Rascal’s room, and this trip to Vegas that was supposed to be a fun girl’s weekend has turned into something else entirely. She’s busy hooking up with her brother’s friend while I find myself completely alone. The only person I even remotely know here besides Amber is my new husband, and it suddenly feels like he’s either pity-hanging out with me or he’s doing it for show, not because he actually wants to be hanging out with me.
I open the curtains and let the morning light stream through as I stare thoughtfully down at the Strip below. Am I making a huge mistake by agreeing to this? I’m really only giving up the next six months in exchange for money, but at what cost to my own personal life?
Usually when a relationship ends, there’s a mourning period, a time to get over what was lost.
I didn’t get that with Chad.
I take a quick shower, and I’m just about to pull my underwear out of my suitcase with the tiny hotel towel secured around me when there’s a knock at my door. “Hang on!” I call into my suitcase, but the door opens anyway.
I jump around, startled, and hold the towel over my chest tightly as I face the man on my mind himself. “I said hang on, not come in.”
A lazy smile slowly tips up the corners of his mouth. “Sorry.” He doesn’t look very sorry as his eyes move lasciviously down my towel-clad body. “I guess we’re even since I was in a towel when you two got here.”
My cheeks turn red, and I turn around to finish fishing my clothes out of my suitcase. “What do you want?”
“Just to see my wife naked.”
I whirl around to face him again, my eyes widening. “What?”
He’s laughing, and I must have moved too quickly because the towel comes untucked at the top and I watch in horror as it flutters to the ground in what feels like slow motion.
“Wish granted,” he murmurs.
“Oh my God!” I yell, and I jump to the floor to grab it and cover myself with it. “Go! Get out! Give me two minutes to find some clothes!” I’m shrieking and screaming and yelling all at the same time, and he just laughs as he spins out of the room, the door clicking shut behind him.
I’m freaking mortified.
I draw in a deep breath to try to compose myself as my heart races.
Was he eyeing my naked form appreciatively? Or was that all in my imagination?
It all happened so quickly that honestly it’s difficult to tell. It had to be my imagination playing tricks on me.
I get dressed, run a comb through my wet hair, and meet Adam in the living room. “What did you need?”
“The lawyers moved our meeting up.” He glances at the clock on his phone. “We have an hour until they call, and they gave me a list of topics to talk about with you before the call so we’re prepared to answer their questions.”
I sigh. I’m not ready for this, but who is ever really ready to draw up a contract spelling out the details of a fake marriage to a rock star? “Fine. I just need a cup of coffee first.”
He nods toward the pot. “Can I get it for you?”
