Gauge: Rockstar Romance (The ProVokaTiv Series Book 1) (14 page)

BOOK: Gauge: Rockstar Romance (The ProVokaTiv Series Book 1)
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Chapter Twenty-Two:
A Play on Words

 

 

The driver came around and opened the door for the limo. Gauge got out. I could hear the screams, every bit as loud as they were at a concert, and “I love you, Gauge’s” being shouted out from all directions. It was overwhelming, and I felt a burst of jealousy.

Gauge turned around and smiled at me, bringing me back to the magic of the moment. “Ready?”

“I am,” I said. I tried to forget what we’d talked about and put my prettiest smile on.

He extended his hand and touched mine, helping me step out of the limo. I was standing up and he leaned in and whispered, “You look amazing.”   Then he turned around and the two of us started to face his people.

A slight giggle erupted from me as I tried to smile perfectly. Gauge leaned in. “What are you thinking of?”

“My tongue in our dirty dancing picture. Not letting that happen again.” My heart ached at the thought, but my smile didn’t waver.

“I think it’s endearing.”

We turned back to the cameras. Every type of journalist from every media format seemed to be there—and every other journalist at once, at that.

“Hi Gauge, Jamie Adams for Fret Online, how are you today?”

“Excited,” Gauge said. He smiled and put on his public face. It was much less intense, but I caught his glittering dark eyes and had to look away.

“ProVokaTiv is up for five awards tonight. Any predictions?”

“We have a 20% chance of winning in each category.”

I kept smiling, although I wanted to bend over in laughter. Jamie wasn’t so sure what to think and he changed directions. “And who is this with you tonight?”

Gauge looked at me and smiled. “Brynn Morgan.”

“Anything serious happening here?” Jamie asked.

“No, we’re set for a fun night,” Gauge said masterfully.

Jamie turned to me. “Are you in the business?”

“No, I’m not a musician,” I said, smiling at him. My grin was so huge that my face was starting to hurt. It wasn’t only from smiling, but also from trying to hold back my laughter.

Gauge stepped in. “She’s a journalist for The Rift.”

Jamie looked at me and smiled, then thanked us for our time and moved on. I don’t think he liked giving attention to the competition. I didn’t blame him, either.

We looked over in the corner and saw Melissa Rivers standing there. The fashion police’s Chief Inspector, minus the woman who made it all so fun for us girls to watch over the years—her mother. It gave me a slight pang of sadness. Melissa had a brave face, but it had to be tough.

Gauge was wearing a sports jacket over a t-shirt emblazoned with the word BOOM. His raw-edged jeans and heavy black boots had a slightly punk rock vibe. It looked fantastic, very classic and slick. I think Melissa loved it, too, because she made a point of making eye contact and waving us over.

“Gauge Bronson, you’re looking good,” Melissa said. “Who are you wearing today?”

“I have no idea.”

“Well, who dressed you?  Your date?”

“No, not Brynn. I’m sad to report it was my agent, so all credit goes to them if it looks good. Credit them if it looks bad, too.”  Gauge laughed and Melissa followed.

“Well, Brynn, you look amazing. I bet you know who you’re wearing,” Melissa said.

“Indeed. It’s Sherri Hill.”

“An original?”

“I don’t know that, I’ll admit. It was a present from Gauge.”

Melissa smiled at Gauge. “From you or your agent?”

“I’ll never confess.”  Gauge wrapped his arm around my waist. I felt his fingers lingering on my hip. I flushed, my knees shaking, and prayed that I’d be able to make it through the night without being too distracted. My friend, my pal, was making me horny. Of course, we’d never ruled out the entire ‘friends with benefits’ route.

“Brynn, what’s your last name?” Melissa asked.

“Morgan,” I said.

“Brynn Morgan, the one who wrote the feature for The Rift?”

“That’s me.”  Wow, Melissa Rivers knew who I was. Awesome!

“I guess I don’t have to ask how you two met,” she said.

Then the ushers moved us on down the line until we got inside the doors and were shown to our seats. I’d done it. I made it from the limo to my seat without tripping. Success!

When we took our seats there were four empty seats to the one side of us. I assumed that they were for Hunter, Simon, and their dates. I was right. I heard a loud laugh and some noise. Hunter and Simon were walking down the aisle, following the host that was seating them. Their dates were right beside them, and I couldn’t even believe it—Trinity and Jessie. Apparently I’d been the only one not in the know. It was funny and it was tricky, but I felt pretty miffed.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Trinity said, dancing over to me and leaning over to give me a kiss. “Isn’t this awesome?”

“I don’t know how many more surprises I can take,” I said. I got up and hugged her and then walked over to hug Jessie, too. “You two look hot.”

“Not like you. That’s one sexy dress, Brynn,” Jessie said.

I turned to look at Simon and Hunter. “Hey guys, it’s great to see you.”

There wasn’t enough time to talk and take it all in before I had to be silent for the show. It was about to begin.

 

The first category was for Rock Band of the Year. ProVokaTiv was nominated. I felt so nervous about it when they called the names, but when I glanced over at Gauge, he looked like it didn’t matter in the least. How could he do that?

They didn’t win, and we all applauded. Disappointment swept over me.

Awards shows are much longer and slower paced in person than they are when you watch on television. As it was, I was in agony, waiting for the guys to get their award. My heart tingled and burned with anticipation and embarrassment.

About a half hour later, after a long commercial break and a performance by GRL, the next category that the guys were up for came up. It was song of the year, and their hit “Tripoli” was up for the award.

“And the winner is….ProVokaTiv, with “Tripoli”!”

The guys stood up and smiled, all making their way to the aisle so they could go up and accept the award. Watching them go up there and hearing all the applause was surreal, really putting everything that came with the territory into perspective. Did all artists need an award to love what they did?  No, and I don’t think that Gauge, Hunter, and Simon did, either.

After the applause died down, the guys all began to talk. Hunter took the microphone first and said, “Thanks. Without all of you devoted, buck-ass crazy fans, this wouldn’t be possible!”  The fans screamed and catcalled.

“Your acknowledgement that you appreciate what we do means the world to me. I thank you all for your support, and your vote.”  There were more cheers, but they were more proper than Hunter’s, less goofy.

Now Gauge was standing there. I was so curious to see what he was going to say. He waited for the applause to die down and began to talk in that even-keeled, quiet voice—it made everyone hush like the grave. “I’d like to dedicate this to the amazing experiences that I had this past summer with my girlfriend. I’ve learned a lot, and she’d made me look at things differently.”  Gauge looked at me and nodded, waving the award in my direction.

A sea of heads all turned around and stared at me. I was in shock. My face was frozen, my cheeks felt hot, and I had a grin on my face that couldn’t be wiped off. I couldn’t believe he said that, and that he clearly indicated it was me. I burned with confusion and frustration. This was
not
what he’d said in the limo.

The guys walked backstage, and we didn’t see them again for a half hour. Jessie and Trinity were looking at me—Trinity was giggling, and Jessie was giving me those knowing eyes. I finally managed to whisper, “I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Well, it sounds like Gauge does,” Trinity said. “Oh look, here comes your boyfriend.”  She drawled the words, and I couldn’t help laughing at my own expense.

“Hey,” Gauge said, sitting back down after shaking a few hands in the row behind him.

“Care to explain?” I asked.

“Just wanted to give you something to think about,” he said. He had a big grin on his face, the type that country people would call a shit-ass grin.

“Well, I’m thinking, and I’m confused.”

“You look great that way.”

The show started again and I had to be silent, dwelling on the words and completely tuned out of what was happening on stage. Some column I’d have tomorrow.

Finally it ended and the lights on the stage dimmed, the ones in the auditorium lit up.

“What’s next?” I asked Gauge.

“We can go to some after parties if you like, or we can go and spend a little time alone.”

“I’ll take option B,” I said. I didn’t have to debate that answer at all. Gauge was downplaying things, but I knew he was up to something. I wasn’t going to rest until I found it. Anything to make him stop teasing me.

 

Chapter Twenty-Three:
Claiming the Prize

 

 

We surpassed the limo and took a taxi back to my apartment. The driver knew who Gauge was, making it so I couldn’t find out what was going on. Didn’t need the prying ears and eyes of someone who’d probably sell a cell phone pic to a gossip sight in a heartbeat. However, once we were behind the privacy of my apartment, I planned to nail him.

My heart was skipping and stuttering over that word,
girlfriend
, but my logical mind was still countering with hard logic. I’d either dropped the ball and really missed something, or else Gauge was messing with my mind. I’d rather have him mess around with my body. Speaking of which, I was so horny I was almost aching.

“Okay, Mr. Bronson, talk,” I said, not wasting a second.

“About anything in specific?”

“About the girlfriend comment during your speech.”

“Didn’t you like it?”

“It’s not what we’d agreed upon when we were talking in the limo.”

“It isn’t?” Gauge asked. He went to sit down on the couch and leaned forward, crossing his arms and looking up at me.

“Remember, we don’t want a long distance relationship.”

“Of course I remember. You’re right.”

“Don’t be so frustrating. Just because you’re sexy doesn’t mean you get away with that,” I said. I crossed my arms and looked at him, then uncrossed my arms, put my hand on my hip, and started to tap my red shoe impatiently.

“I just got a place here in LA,” he said.

My jaw dropped. Had I heard him right?  “You did?”

“I did, about a half hour from here.”

“I didn’t know you were planning on moving to LA.”

“Well, my lease was up in New York, and I’m not really a fan of that super cold weather, so I thought, why not LA?”

“You’ve moved here for the weather?” I asked.

“And the hot girls.”

I smiled. “Anyone in particular?”

I didn’t let him answer. I just walked over to him, hiked my dress up, and sat down on his lap. I leaned in to kiss him. I wasn’t going to risk blowing anything by talking too much. It was time for my body to do the talking and express what I was demanding. At that moment, it was Gauge’s connection to me.

“It is pretty hot here, isn’t it?” I whispered. I stood up and slid down my dress, revealing my bare breasts and black thong panties. There I stood, exposed and eager, trembling with hunger for him.

I reached out for Gauge’s hand and took it. He got up and followed me as I guided him to my small bedroom.  I peeled off his jacket and slid my hands under his shirt. I kissed his tattoos. God, I’d missed them. Furious and urgent, I stroked his flank and peeled off his pants.

My hands went on his chest as I guided him backward onto the bed. He laid back. I swung a leg over him and slid on top, guiding him in. I needed him, not the foreplay and the talk at that moment. I needed to cement that this was real in my mind and show him how much I wanted him—no more questions. I was wet and ready, no stalling or explanations needed.

I began to rock back and forth, feeling my explosive energy rise and prepare to release. It was slow and steady, but the urgency couldn’t be ignored. My eyes were open and alert, watching Gauge. He was watching me.

Planting my hands on his chest, I leaned down and kissed Gauge. Then it happened. My back arched and I released. The world tilted beneath us. It all made sense, and I was exactly where I wanted to be. Gauge exploded inside me and the shivers coursed through my body, every inch of my skin tingling with the long, sweet release.

I slid to the side of him and sat up. He was still lying down and his legs were still on the ground. “That was incredible,” I said.

He lifted his hand up and caressed my face and smiled. “I think I’m going to love LA.”

“Trust me, it gets better with each passing day,” I teased.

 

Morning came and I looked over to the wall of my bedroom. It had only one picture on it. It was the cover of The Rift, a gift that had been framed for me when the issue was released.
The Undisputed Champions
. The small byline read:  By Brynn Morgan.

“The article was great, by the way,” Gauge said, nuzzling my ear. It tickled.

“Thanks,” I said.

“What do you think when you see that cover?”

I turned to him and sighed. “Everything in my world changed that day. When I look at that picture, I think of life and how it’s constantly evolving and changing. On that day I saw your passion, heard about how creative people could get with a situation, and realized that every day matters. You never know when something can be taken away forever.”

“So, no regrets?” Gauge asked.

“No regrets,” I repeated.

“So, what do you want to do today?”

“Sadly, I need to work.”

Gauge laughed. “And so it begins.”

“Can I see your apartment later?”

“It’ll have to be a lot later. Song writing session tonight.”

“Oh. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Or maybe you can stay the night.” But as I kissed him, I had a feeling that we had many, many nights together ahead of us—with no end in sight.

 

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