I Want You to Want Me (Rock Star Romance #2) (6 page)

“Yeah, I read that. That was awesome.” Buck clapped Derek on the shoulder. “Love to get you in the studio, man. Let everyone hear what you’ve got.”

“Definitely,” Derek began. “I’ll be in touch.”

“Won’t we be in New York next week?” Violet asked him.

“Uh-oh,” his dad said. “Isn’t that where your publicist lives? Does she know you took up with this one?” Eddie lifted his brows in a show of feigned surprise to Buck. “Hey, here’s one for your blog. Breaking news. Derek’s got yet another new girlfriend.”

Anger tightened Derek’s features, and his body went rigid. “Dad—”

But before he could speak, Violet took one step forward. “It’s so sweet how closely you follow your son’s career in the press. You guys should get together when we’re in New York, though, so you can catch up with him personally.”

She gripped Derek’s hand tightly. For just a few seconds, their gazes locked, and the whole world shut down. She could see his anger—a live, seething force inside him—settle down, feel his muscles relax. For that one moment, she felt like his lifeline.

A droplet of sweat trickled down the side of his face, and she gently wiped it away with her fingers. She willed him to keep his focus on her—and not let that snake of a dad get to him.

“Anyhow,” she said to Buck. “Why don’t you give us some dates and times, and we’ll get back to you. He’ll be pretty inundated with press in the city, but we’ll try and squeeze it in. Sound good?”

Buck smiled. “Sounds great.” He shook Derek’s hand. “I’ll be in touch.” He nodded to Eddie and Violet before taking off.

Violet turned to Eddie. “Mr. Valencia, it’s so great to finally meet you. Strangely, everything I’ve heard about you is true.” She squeezed Derek’s hand. “Ready to go?”

•   •   •

The
white noise of the rumbling engine should’ve lulled her overactive mind to sleep, but thoughts kept charging through, jolting her, keeping her wide awake. Strange bus, strange people, weird and very strange new world.

Usually, she could sleep anywhere. She’d had to.

In her first foster home, after her grandma died, Violet had shared a bed with three other little kids. Squished together, they slept like puppies in a basket. She didn’t remember much from the early days—she’d only been six—but she did remember the sticky heat, the tangle of sweaty limbs, and the mix of scents in that first bed. Nothing bad, really. Mostly spaghetti sauce, baby shampoo, and the laundered scent of cotton pajamas.

Her sharpest memory was the loneliness, the fear. When her grandma died, the sorrow had spilled through her like water, a constant, seeping, unstoppable flow. It saturated her tissue, until she carried the weight of it from house to house, along with the worn and tattered book of poetry her grandma had given her. She’d missed her grandma fiercely.

Not that she remembered much, of course. She’d been too young. Just the lovely, quiet routine they’d had. After her postal route, her grandma would pick her up from an old lady’s house—a house she remembered smelled oddly of nail polish remover, no idea why—and take her home to their tiny little house on a busy street in Sound Beach, Long Island.

As she’d fix them a simple dinner, her grandma would talk to her about the dogs that had barked at her that day or the curious man who’d peer at her through the curtains each morning. And then—her favorite part—after they ate, they’d go outside to the tiny backyard and water the flowers, as Grandma told more stories. A whole backyard filled with wildflowers.

Boots clomped on the metal stairs, and her body went on alert. Her senses sharpened, tracking the movements.

The curtain pulled back, hands pressed down on the mattress, and a big body heaved itself into the tiny bunk. Though she’d only met him two days ago, she already recognized his shape and scent, so it didn’t alarm her when Derek crashed into the tiny space.

“I didn’t think that couch would work for you,” she said quietly.

“Kept sliding off.” His gruff voice sent a shot of awareness through her.

“I’m sorry.” She kicked off the blanket.

“Where you going?”

She welcomed the wall of heat against her side, considering how cold the bus was with the constant flow of air conditioning. “I’ll sleep there. You need your sleep more than I do.”

His arm banded around her waist, tugging her back down. “You’re right. So go to sleep.”

“I’m not sleeping in this bunk with you.”

“You’re not sleeping in the lounge either.”

“I’m not as big as you. I won’t slide off as easily.”

He was quiet for a moment. “That’s not the only problem with the lounge.”

Was he talking about the decadence that went on in there? They hadn’t let any nymphs on the bus since Violet had joined them. “Don’t worry about me. You can’t imagine the places I’ve slept.”

She started to climb over him, but his hand clamped down on her thigh.
Oh
. Why did his big hand on her skin feel so good? She’d never dated a forceful guy before. Had always chosen guys who let her take the lead.

“Slater’s room is right next door. The walls are thin.”

“If you think Slater’s loud, you should—” A soft moan floated up the stairs. Heat burst inside her chest as she realized what he meant. “Ah.” How awkward was that? Did Emmie know she could be heard throughout the bus?

Even in the darkness, she could see the flash of white teeth from his grin. “Yeah.”

“Well, when they’re done, I’ll go.”

“You’ll never sleep. Abe’s got talk radio going on all night. It’s how he stays awake.”

Why bother fighting? They’d be up in a few hours anyway, and Derek needed rest to play the festival in Virginia Beach. “Well, we won’t be sleeping on the bus as much from now on.”

“Yeah? How’s that?”

“We’ll switch over to hotel suites whenever possible. I can make things more comfortable for you guys with a kitchen and actual bedrooms.”

“That means driving during the day instead of all night.”

“You’ll be getting better sleep, so you can actually work during the day on the bus. Without distractions. Isn’t that the fun stuff for you guys, making music?”

He studied her a moment, and she couldn’t imagine what he was thinking. Maybe she presumed too much? He exhaled. “Yeah, that’s the fun stuff.”

He seemed so tired. She’d let him get to sleep. Just as she started to turn over, his arm hooked around her waist. “You protected me tonight.”

“Your dad—”

“You don’t need to do that.”

“I know.” As intimidating as he was with all his badass intensity, she had to admit the almost immediate intimacy he assumed between them utterly thrilled her.

“The only reason I let you is because I didn’t want to lose it in front of Buck.”

“And that’s the only reason I did it. Has he always been like that?”

“No.”

“Oh, that’s good. I couldn’t imagine growing up with a dad like that.” Not that she could imagine growing up with a dad at all.

“When I was a kid, he was way more direct about it.” His hand flew up, his palm right in her face. “This is the view of my dad I remember most.”

Oh
. It hadn’t even happened to her, but she felt the stinging slap of rejection. How
awful
. She caught the offending hand, lowered it between them and held it tightly. No matter how powerful and in command he appeared, she read
pain and vulnerability in those eyes. And he only confirmed it when he didn’t pull away.

“You know what I remember?” Usually, Derek was passionate, full of energy. But when he talked about his dad, he flattened out.

She gently shook her head, keenly aware of his pain. The blond scruff around his mouth accentuated the sexiest pair of lips she’d ever seen. Were they fuller than most? Or did she notice them more because of the beard framing them?

“My dad had a studio in the basement. He always kept it locked. And, you know, we lived in the suburbs. There was no reason to keep it locked. Except to keep
me
out. So it became like the Holy-fucking-Grail to me.”

“Of course.”

“And when his dudes came over, I’d follow them around like a puppy. Not in the studio, of course. I wasn’t allowed in there. But I remember this one time, the guys came upstairs and they left the door open. I snuck in there, and it was, like, surreal, you know? All those instruments. Owned and played by guys I revered. So I started just wailing on my dad’s sax. And let me tell you, no one touched the great Eddie Valencia’s sax. And then I beat the skins, had a blast. Eventually, the guys walked in. And they all just watched me. But in a cool way, and it egged me on. They smiled at me, like I was all right. And then my dad busts in and, you know, he’d never make himself look bad in front of anyone, so instead of yelling at me, he goes, ‘Well, shit, buddy, you better keep up your grades in school. You’re gonna need it.’”

Violet couldn’t stand it. She hitched up on an elbow. “He’s such a jerk.”

“Yeah.” Whatever hint of emotion had burned through cooled. “It was a long time ago. My point is that I’ve dealt with him my whole life. I don’t need anyone running interference. It’s between me and my dad.”

“Not on my watch.”

He studied her for a long moment. It was dark enough she didn’t think he could see how upset she’d gotten. But then one side of his mouth hitched up. “You gonna be my champion?” He said it like he didn’t believe it.

Shoving aside her completely inappropriate attraction,
she dropped back into professional mode. “My job is to minimize the stressors so that you can focus on your work. Everything I do is to help you screen out the noise so you can make the magic. Usually, the noise is drugs and alcohol, which it is for Ben, Cooper, and Pete. But for you? It’s your dad. He’s the noise in your head.”

“Used to be. Not anymore.” He closed his eyes. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s get to sleep.”

On her back, she stared into the darkness, her body buzzing with disgust at what that man had done to his little boy.

Still on his side, one hand under his head, he watched her. “What’re you thinking?”

“Sorry, I should go. You’ll never sleep with a stranger in your bed.”

“I’ll sleep after you answer the question. What’re you thinking?”

But she didn’t want to bring up his dad again. So she brought up the other thing that’d been bugging her. “I’m thinking I caused you some trouble tonight.” An article had shown up on Beatz, outing her as Derek’s new love interest—implying that he hadn’t bothered to break up with Gen first. Fortunately, they didn’t have a photo of her to go with it.

“How’s that?”

“With your girlfriend. I didn’t mean for Buck to jump to that conclusion.”

“That’s on my dad.”

“No, I kept touching you.”

“Couldn’t keep your hands off me.”

She smiled. “I know. What’s the
matter
with me?”

“I’m fuckin’ irresistible.” Something sparked in his eyes, and the rush of intimacy ignited something in her heart, making it beat harder, faster. Okay, this was not good. They shouldn’t be connecting on this level. “Yeah, okay, Mr. Irresistible. The point is that the media got hold of it. Is Gen upset?”

He let out a hard laugh, and she covered his mouth with her hand. They didn’t need to wake anyone up. “You’re worried about Gen’s feelings? Don’t bother. Our relationship is nothing like how the media portrays us. Besides, like I said,
that one’s on my dad. Buck wouldn’t have said anything about it. My dad probably told every reporter he saw.”

“Well, tonight, for the first time ever, I was almost glad I didn’t have a dad.”

“What?”

She smiled. “Yours is awful.”

He laughed softly. “Yeah, he is. But he hasn’t been in my life in a long time. You never knew your dad?”

She shook her head.

“No stepdad?”

She drew in a breath. Normally, she’d never share her real life, but since he was Emmie’s brother, he’d find out anyway. “I grew up in foster care.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Your whole life?”

“My mom was an addict. She dropped me off at my grandma’s when I was two. My grandma died four years later. After that, yeah, foster care.”

“You must’ve had some damn good families if you came out like this.”

“Like what?”

“All elegant and sophisticated. Someone took good care of you.”

“Actually, I took care of them. I learned pretty quickly how to keep myself safe.”

“Took care of who, exactly?” His features darkened.

She didn’t like his suspicion. She’d worked hard to live a clean life. “The other
kids.
”

He softened. “Ah. I wondered how you became a minder. Didn’t think there was a major for that in college.”

“I didn’t go to college.”

“No way. No
fucking
way.”

Was that admiration she saw on his features? “Why does that surprise you?”

“Your vocabulary, your intelligence. You’re polished. No way you didn’t go to college.”

“As soon as you turn eighteen, you’re out of the program. It’s not like there’s a locker jammed with savings for us. There’s no transition team or anything.”

“So what did you do?”

“I became a nanny.” She thought of Francesca, the
woman who’d changed her whole life by making a simple call. “Before I turned eighteen, I worked in a day care for one of the fancy beach clubs in the Hamptons. One of the women I met there hooked me up with my first nanny job. And then
that
woman’s husband liked how I handled the kids, not to mention his crazy wife, so he hired me to mind one of his workers who had a substance abuse problem.” She smiled. “And a business was born.”

“You’re kind of amazing.”

The way he looked at her lit a fuse inside her. Her whole body heated and hummed. “Just scrappy. Like you.”

“Naw. You’ve just pretty much humbled my ass. I won’t be whining like a bitch about my dad anymore.”

She liked him. Not that way, of course, but she didn’t think she’d mind spending time with him. Which made her think of his girlfriend. “I can fix this, you know. In most of my jobs, I play the role of my client’s girlfriend. But we don’t have to do that in this situation. I mean, I can be Pete’s girlfriend, if you want, since I do have to keep an eye on him.”