I Want You to Want Me (Rock Star Romance #2) (29 page)

The moment turned completely surreal. Derek didn’t even think he was in his body.

Had Irwin Ledger said that to promote the label? The band? The only reason he was on the show was to get Amoeba back in their good graces, so maybe . . .

Jesus, listen to you
. He was so full of shit. Irwin had said that Derek was the soul of Blue Fire. The
heart
. He’d chosen Derek out of all the bass players in the fucking world—and Derek was still questioning his own talent?

Emmie wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him. “I’m so proud of you.”

Slater cupped his shoulder, squeezed. Didn’t say a word. Didn’t need to. Derek felt it.

“Your dad’s a has-been, dude,” Ben said.

“Like V said, he’s got a small dick,” Cooper said. “So small he’d fuck his own kid over. You gotta get that.”

“Get free of it, man,” Ben said.

Derek popped out of his chair. “You want to grab some food?”

“I could eat,” Ben said.

Slater slipped an arm around Emmie’s waist. “Hungry?”

She nodded, and Derek grabbed his key card, following them out.

But the truth was he wasn’t hungry. He was anxious. All he could think about was Violet.

And he didn’t give a shit about eating.

He stopped. “Em?”

She turned toward him.

“I fucked up.”

She smiled sadly, nodding. “Yeah, you did.”

Ben and Cooper reached the elevator bay, punched the button.

“Have you talked to her?” he asked. “Is she all right?”

The smile turned to frustration. “I told you, I’m not getting involved.”

“I know that. I’m just asking how she is.” Fuck it. He had to just go for it. “I need to know where she is.”

“Ask
her
.”

“I don’t think she wants to talk to me.” The image of that nymph’s hands all over his chest, licking him right in front of Violet ate away at him like acid.

What an asshole.

“No, I don’t think she does.”

“She thinks I slept with nymphs.”

“Three nights after you proposed, you blew her off for a three-pack,” Emmie said in an accusing tone.

“Bad move, dude,” Cooper said from down the hall.

“I didn’t do anything with them.” Derek gave him a quelling look, then focused on Emmie. “Tell me where she is.”

Emmie’s gaze cut away. She bit her lower lip. “Chicago.”

“Chicago? She didn’t take the job with Jason Becker?”

“I don’t think she’s taken a job yet. As far as I know, she’s still meeting with clients before she decides.”

“So she’s not in Japan?” Thank fuck. Relief swept through him so fast his knees went weak. “When will she be back?”

“No idea. I don’t have her itinerary. I’m talking to her about the wedding, that’s all.”

Right, the wedding. Out in Eden’s Landing. The ceremony would take place on the beach, the reception on Four O’Clock Farm. So no matter what, Derek would see her.

Not for another week. He needed to see her now. Spinning around, he marched back to his room, slid the key card in.

“Derek,” Emmie called. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to the farm.”

“She’s not at the farm.”

“No, but maybe they’ll tell me where she is. I have to talk to her.”

“She’s not . . . she’s not going to just come back. Trust is hard for her. You broke it.”

He looked at her, standing in the dimly lit hallway halfway between Derek’s room and the elevators. “I hate that I hurt her.”
Destroyed her.

Jesus, he had to fix it. Erase the pain he’d caused. “Is it too late?”

Emmie let out an exasperated breath, her hands going up in a helpless gesture. “It’s hard to say with Violet. But you’ll never know if you don’t try.”

•   •   •

If
New York in August was unbearably hot and humid, Chicago was like crawling into the devil’s armpit. Violet strode quickly down Oak Street, dying to get to the comfort of her hotel room. Perspiration dripped down her back, making her silk shirt cling. She’d worn a light, swingy skirt to keep it loose, but nothing eased the stifling humidity.

Unused to heels after spending a few weeks on the farm, she wanted nothing more than to get to her air-conditioned hotel room and kick them off, strip, and take a cool shower.

Crossing the street to her hotel, she considered the three possible jobs she could take. Jason Becker would be the most difficult. Surrounded by enabling parents, security
guards, hangers-on, all who wanted to keep him happy so they could share in his riches, he had absolutely no interest in cleaning up his act. He was too young to understand the fleetingness of fame or how quickly adulation turned to disgust. The same fans who turned him into a superstar would easily transfer all that affection onto the next It boy.

Finally, the revolving door in sight, Violet let go of the breath she’d been holding. Truthfully, she hadn’t taken the Jason job because of Derek. She couldn’t bear the idea of letting him go completely. Going overseas for three months, all the way across the world, would have cut him off for good.

The Chicago attorney would be a job like all the others she’d ever had. It paid well, and it didn’t involve musicians. The third, another CEO like Joe Capriano, would keep her in the city. Back in Randall’s world.

Randall. He was a really good guy. He’d been so supportive through this whole ordeal with the farm. More than anything, she appreciated his even-tempered nature. She could count on him.

As much as losing Derek hurt, she knew she wasn’t cut out for someone with such a passionate nature. Mercurial, she’d discovered, didn’t work for her.

She would never forget the week of pure hell she’d endured after he’d blown her off.

Never again.

The moment she entered the lobby, cold air enveloped her. Her skin tingled, then tightened as the perspiration dried. Only, as she strode toward the elevators, the tingling didn’t stop. The hairs at the back of her neck sprung up.

Awareness gripped her. Out of her peripheral vision she noted the form of a man. She turned and saw him, and electricity swept through her.

Derek.

Her heart leapt into her throat, her blood raced.

Derek.

She froze, the weight of her bag digging into her shoulder.

“Violet.” His broad shoulders stretching the fabric of a dark gray T-shirt, his thigh muscles prominent in the worn
jeans, Derek approached her with urgency, like he was afraid she’d go up in smoke.

She wished she would. She didn’t want to see him. Why was he here?

What
the hell
did he want?

Everything in him softened when he reached her. “Hey.”

She forced herself to speak over the pounding of her heart. “Derek.” She said it coolly. Good. “What are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you.”

He needed . . .
are you kidding me?
She didn’t give a damn what
he
needed. “How did you know I was here?”

“I went to the farm. Talked to Mimi. V, please, can we talk somewhere? Let’s go to your room.”

“No, Derek, we can’t talk somewhere.” Was he serious? Just like that she’d take him to her room? “Please excuse me.”
Go to hell.
She carried on toward the elevator.

He stepped in front of her. “No.”

At the snap in his voice, people turned to look.

She wanted to curl into herself. For as much as she’d pulled herself together since her week in a twisted ball of misery, she realized in that moment how tenuous her hold on her inner strength really was. “Don’t make a scene.”

“I’m not making a scene. I just need to talk to you.”

“I don’t care what you need. I really don’t.” She took a breath, calming herself. Hitching her bag up her shoulder, she looked at this impulsive man who thought he could take whatever he wanted when he wanted.

God, he was gorgeous. From his bulging biceps to his battered black Converse high tops, he was a seething, roiling wall of pure masculinity.

And he’d nearly killed her. She had to remember that. “For every moment we shared over our six weeks together, do you know the one I see every single time I close my eyes?”

His shoulders slumped, and it looked like the life drained out of him. “I think so.”

“How could you propose to me one night and then three nights later ignore me like some groupie you’d already forgotten?”

He winced. “I was fucked up.” But then he straightened,
reanimating himself. “I didn’t sleep with those women. I haven’t been with anybody—how could I? I’ve missed you. V, I can’t . . . I can’t fucking live without you.” He reached for her hand, but she jerked it back. He seemed surprised. “Sorry, I . . .” His eyes lit up from within, and he smiled. “Hey, I made the Ledger List.”

A jolt of happiness traveled along her nerves, but she tamped it down. “That’s wonderful. Congratulations.”

“Yeah. It’s pretty cool.”

“So you got everything you wanted. I’m happy for you.”

“I did, and it sucks. I’m miserable without you.”

Oh, no. Oh, no, no,
no
. She was not going to get sucked back into that world with him again. Okay, she needed to get a hold of herself.

Mercurial.
As much as she’d enjoyed the wake-up call to her heart he’d provided, she didn’t have the temperament to endure his inconstant nature. Because as quickly as he’d turned his energy on her, he’d turn it off.

And now he was nothing but a former client. She would do well to remember that.

“Well, of course it doesn’t make you happy.” Oh, good. Her calm, professional tone had returned.
Thank God.

He cocked his head, confused.

“The kind of happiness that comes from an award or a great review is fleeting. It doesn’t scratch the itch. The only person who needs to think you’re talented is
you
. No matter how many times your records go platinum, it’ll never be enough. Until you believe in yourself, you’ll always need more.”

His gaze hardened. “Cut the shit, V.”

“Excuse me?”

“Drop the act. I’m not your client anymore.” He grabbed her arm and tugged her so hard, she slammed into his solid chest.

Oh, God, he smelled so familiar it made her ache. It threw her right back to their bodies pressed together in the dark of his bunk, the rumble of the bus’s engine humming through her bones. She wanted his arms around her, wanted his kisses on the curve of her neck.

She wanted
them
.

He stood there, a wall of heat and energy. “I’m your man. And I’m here to get you back.”

She shoved his chest, but he didn’t budge. “Go to hell.”

“Oh, I’m already there. Don’t worry about that. Yeah, I fucked up. I get that. Your rejection on that stage hurt, and I acted like an immature jerk trying to shut you out. I’m a pussy, I get that. But I can’t . . . it’s not over, V. I need you. The way you touch me, the way you see me, the way you calm me the fuck down, V. I need you.”

Damn, he was good. He was
so
good her brain scrambled to find a way to let him back into her life. Give him a second chance.

Like that would ever happen. “You need me
now
? Oh, okay. That’s nice. But what about when I do something to hurt your feelings again, which I
will
do because I’m only human after all, then you won’t need me anymore, right?” She shook her head. “Sorry, I’m afraid I’m not up for that kind of game.”

“This isn’t a game.” He leaned toward her, grabbed her arms. “I love you.”

People were watching them, but she couldn’t stop. “
Love?
Are you kidding me? You don’t love. You play this high drama
show
of love, but you don’t
feel
love. That whole side of you was shut down when the little boy in you decided he’d had enough rejection from the dad he worshipped, the man he loved with his whole and trusting heart.
That
piece of you is locked and buried away. How do I know? Because you proved it to me. Not when you proposed as a publicity stunt—that I could get over. But when you didn’t return a single one of my texts begging you to talk to me, when you ignored me so cruelly—you saw my eye, you knew how devastated I had to have been to wind up with a broken blood vessel. I could
not
have gotten into your heart if you could treat me the way you did in that hotel room. No, you don’t love me. You want me to get up onstage with you and play out a few more high drama scenes before you move on to the next play thing. And I can assure you, that is
not
going to happen. Not with me.”

God, everyone was watching them. How could she let herself get carried away like this? She needed to escape to the privacy of her room. “Good-bye, Derek.”

He followed her, so close that with every swing of her arm she brushed up against his hard body. She reached for the button, but he caught her hand, brought it to his chest, right over his heart.

“You make me want to be a better man. You see me. And guess what, sweet V? I see you, too. You’ve got that damn professional face on again—I did that, I know—but I see the beating heart underneath. The passionate, sexy woman that only
I
bring out. We’re good for each other. Don’t walk away from me. Give me a chance.”

A big part of her was ready to cave, to fall into his arms, because that woman he described? Yes, she was alive and breathing somewhere inside her. But Violet didn’t want her to be. Because that woman knew too much pain. And she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t go there again. Not for anything.

So she looked behind her, scanning the lobby, making a big show of it. “Is this being taped? Am I going to find myself on every entertainment outlet in the morning?”

“What’re you talking about? Of course not.”

“I’m curious. What happened this time, Derek? What did your dad do to hurt you and make you go racing off to Chicago to stir up new drama for the press?”

He stepped forward, crowding her. “You think losing you wasn’t lesson enough? Are you fucking kidding me? Yeah, I get what I did. I get it. I used the noise from the press to cover up my own fucking inadequacies. I get that. But believe me, I’m done with it. Because it cost me you.”