Love Song (Rocked by Love #2) (7 page)

She set down her phone on
a glossy white table. "You've been in a few fights recently."

He'd been in a few scraps
lately, and admittedly, at least one was his fault, but he never went off
half-cocked without a damn good reason. "So?"

"So, I didn't want
another one to break out in the middle of my studio. You guys looked like you
were ready to tear each other's heads off."

"Likely were."
But she looked far too upset for his comfort, and that wasn't okay. Remorse
trickled through him, shaming the angry beast within. He cupped his hands over
her shoulders. Stiffened muscles met his palms. "And I apologize. Owen and
I have a lot of bad blood between us. He gets under my skin."

"I noticed. How did
this feud start?"

"We were both
nominated for the same award a few years ago. The Fury won and he thought his
band should have. He was pretty vocal about it. Then, one of the online rock
magazines held a weekly head-to-head contest for lead singers. He and I were
going against each other. Again, I won and he got pissed off. We've had some
interesting exchanges since then. Some were minor pranks, and a lot of
trash-talking, but that incident with the fan club and my supposed leaving the
band went too far."

"Aren't you guys
with the same record label?"

"We were before
Excite released my band. That doesn't mean we have to like each other." He
massaged the tension knotting her muscles. "But I shouldn't have done
anything here. That wasn't cool. Again, I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted.
Just promise me that you guys can get along at the fashion show."

His fingers tightened on
the muscles he'd just finished soothing. "He's going to be there?"

"Since Vanessa is
modeling, he said he'd come. He'll know a lot of the attendees."

"Hmm." The last
thing he wanted was to be stuck in a room with Owen. At least he'd have his
guys there to hold him back if necessary.

Her hands slid from his
hips to his chest. "Luke, this show is really important to me. I don't
want to have to worry about you and Owen on top of everything else."

"I promise I'll do
my best to not kill him." He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.
"You don't have to worry about that."

Finally, her smile
returned. "Good."

The jangling tune of
Audrey's cell phone filled the air. He glanced at the screen and her shoulders
stiffened again. A sigh escaped her lips. "That's Dante's number."

He bit back a growl.
"I'll leave if you want privacy."

"You can stay."
Remaining in the circle of his embrace, she held the phone to her ear.
"Hello."

"Audrey, how are
you?" A deep voice with a hint of an Italian accent came through the
speaker, as loudly as if Audrey had put the phone on speaker.

"I received the
roses you sent."

"They made me think
of you,
bella
. I hope you liked them."

"They're
beautiful... but remember that rocker I told you about?" She raised her
gaze to his face and smiled. Her small hand tightened further around his back,
securing her hold. Luke leaned into her touch.

Silence reigned for a
long moment, and then Dante sighed. "Luke, right?"

"Right. The thing
is, we just started seeing each other."

"I see."
Another long pause followed. "Well, I hope it works out the way you want
it to."

Luke shook
his head at the voice coming out of the receiver. The guy answered like a true
suit, without backbone and giving up without a fight. Not that Luke wanted him
to fight, but Dante wasn't any kind of man in his book. Audrey deserved better.

"Thank you. Me
too." She cuddled in closer until the warmth of her body mingled with his.
Luke rubbed his hand up and down her back. She was smart, beautiful, talented,
and kind—damn, he was lucky.

Dante continued,
"You're special, Audrey. Make sure he treats you that way."

"I will. I hope you
find what you're looking for, too." She ended the call and set the phone
on the table. "There, all settled."

He hoped so. "Think
that's enough to make sure he gets the message you're not available?"

"Yes. He really is a
good guy, you know."

"He can be someone
else's guy. Not yours."

She pulled him down for a
kiss. "I have my hands full with you anyway."

He wrapped his arms
around her and deepened the kiss. Having her hands full with him was one thing.
Being a distraction to her was another. He'd find a way to deal with being
around Owen. No way would he disappoint Audrey again.

Luke
spent most of Wednesday huddled in the back room of Audrey's studio. They
finalized the few tweaks she'd made to the Furious Records logo and began
discussing color and texture preferences for the launch party in Vegas. She'd
been working non-stop for days, going from The Fury's business to her
preparations for the show, and if he hadn't culled out a corner of her space to
use as his makeshift office, he would have only seen her for a few minutes at
night before they tumbled into sleep.

Late that afternoon, he
stood outside a hotel near Central Park South with Ivan waiting for the next
contestant. He checked the info Jayne had sent him. Mikala Mason's demo had
impressed him. Her range stretched several octaves and the way she'd torn up
one of The Fury's newer songs,
Shredded Justice,
was too awesome to
believe.

He needed a good audition
to take his mind off of the stress of dealing with Owen, of Audrey working with
Owen, and the fact there was nothing he could do about it. Owen was like a
constant dark cloud hanging over his mood. Guard up, Luke couldn't relax.

"Luke?"

He glanced up at his
name. A sleek blonde approached wearing tons of makeup, spiked heels, and a hot
pink dress that left little to the imagination.

"Mikala?" Just
to be sure... The woman in the video demo hadn't been as groupie-esque as the
one who stood before him.

"Hi." She
extended her hand. "I'm so excited to meet you."

"It's nice to meet
you too." He shook her hand, and jolted back when she captured him in an
exuberant hug, enveloping him in a cloud of sugary sweet perfume. Patting her
back, he eased away. "Ready for your audition?"

Her eyes sparkled.
"I'm ready for
you
."

Behind her, Ivan coughed,
but it sounded strangely like a laugh.

Luke gestured toward the
hotel's double doors. "We've reserved a conference room. When we get in
there, we'll start recording. Just be natural. No need for nerves."

As soon as they stepped
into the hotel lobby, she pulled out her phone. "Can we take a selfie?"

Before he could agree,
she'd leaned in close and held up her phone. That cotton candy perfume was
already giving him a headache. One picture quickly became five before she
deemed the last one acceptable.

He moved away, creating
some space between them. Mere moments later, Mikala was plastered up against
his side. "We could go to your hotel room. That's more personal than a
conference room. I think I'd do better there." She grabbed his forearm
while she talked.

He shifted away again.
"All auditions are taking place in the same type of room. The acoustics
need to be similar." He'd made that shit up, but the way she was looking
at him raised a red flag.

Mikala laid her hand on
his shoulder. "Rules, hmm? I suppose I understand. Maybe later." Her
gaze darted to Ivan and then back again. "When we're alone."

Red flag, again. But
surely she realized she was way too young for him. He didn't want to hurt her
feelings or embarrass her, but he didn't want to encourage her either. "We
won't be alone. Ivan's here for the duration. And so are the fans watching at
home." He pointed to the camera and gently stepped away.

He barely gave Ivan a
glance, more intent on keeping his arms and legs away from Mikala. She seemed
part octopus. The sooner he finished the audition, the sooner he could get back
to the hotel and check in with Audrey. Their quick kiss goodbye when he'd left
the studio hadn't been nearly enough to satisfy him.

Mikala beamed a smile and
then grabbed his hand. She clutched tight as they walked through the hallways
toward the conference room, words tumbling out of her brightly painted lips. He
was impressed with her knowledge of the band's history, and less enthused with
the extent of her knowledge of his personal life.

Within moments, they were
seated at a table in the center of the room. Rather than sitting across from
him, Mikala moved her chair until they were side by side. "This is
cozier."

Warning sirens buzzed in
his head. As casually as he could, Luke shifted his chair a few inches away.

"Let's take another
selfie." Phone in hand, Mikala bumped her chair until it met his. She
tilted her head until it almost rested on his shoulder. "Smile."

Luke forced his cheeks to
lift into a semblance of a smile, but from his view, it was more of a grimace.
Beside him, Ivan stifled another laugh.

"There."
Fingers flying fast over the keys, she typed and then held out the screen to
show the picture posted on her media feed, captioned
Luke and me
with a
little heart.

Shit. He edged away
again. At this rate, he'd be in the next conference room before the audition
even began. "Start the recording, Ivan."

"It's already
rolling, boss."

At Ivan's word, Luke
glanced into the camera. "Hey guys. Luke here. I'm with the second
contestant in the New Band Contest. This is Mikala Mason."

"Thank you for
making me feel so welcome, Luke." Her voice purred, dropping an octave and
her hand touched his.

Again, shit. That warning
siren buzzed louder.

He moved her hand off of
his and reached for his bottle of water. "Your voice impressed everyone in
the band. So, you've been singing for how many years?"

"Several." She
fluffed her hair and then rested her elbow on the table, hand under her chin,
and gazed at him. "You've been singing for several, too. Life on the road
must get lonely."

He resisted the urge to
press his fingers over the dull thudding in his temples. This pre-audition
interview was a disaster, but it could be edited later. "Not really. I
travel with three other guys, our band manager, the road crew, and occasionally
a dog. If you'll please stand in the center of the room, we can get
started."

"Sure." She
swayed out of her chair like a stripper giving a lap dance and sauntered to the
center of the room.

"Whenever you're
ready." He set his phone on the table and tried to relax. "We'd like
you to sing
Shredded Justice
again."

She opened her mouth and
the off-key notes and wrong tone scraped along his skin like a bad itch.

Gaping at Ivan, Luke
shook his head. "Something's not right."

"Sounds more like
something is dying a slow and painful death."

Luke stood, motioning for
Mikala to stop singing. "Hold up. What's going on with your voice?"

A blush touched her
cheeks and she placed her hand on her hip and cocked it out to the side, posing
as though she were celebrity at a red carpet event. "What do you
mean?"

Okay—so no stories of
strained vocal cords or anything to remotely explain the reason. The voice on
the demo hadn't sounded auto-tuned... not that auto-tune could correct what
he'd just heard. "Want to try again? You sound completely different."

She cleared her throat
and belted out the chorus of the song. The screeching was bad enough to curdle
his blood.

"Stop. Just
stop." He waved his hands to silence her. "What the hell is going on
here?"

"I wanted to meet
you. My friend let me record her voice and use it for the audition. I
lip-synched when I recorded my demo."

"Holy shit."
Ivan's murmur mirrored Luke's thoughts, just before
what the fuck
broke
in. "Are you kidding me? You and your friend cooked up a little scheme so
you could meet me?"

Wearing a siren's smile,
she sashayed toward the table. "I guess I was a little bad. Can you blame
me?"

"Do you know how
many hours of auditions we sat through? How many people we considered? And you
faked it? Why take the opportunity away from someone else?"

Instead of answering him,
she narrowed her eyes at Ivan. "Give us a minute."

"I'll grab a
smoke." Ivan set the camera on the table and then exited the room.

As soon as they were
alone, Mikala brushed her fingers up and down Luke's arm. "Let me make it
up to you. Any way at all you want. I've been told I have many hidden
talents." The red claws on her fingertips traced along the top of his
thigh.

Enough
.
Luke shrugged away from her touch. "I'm involved with someone."

Green eyes narrowed into slits
and then she gave him a seductive smile too precise to be anything but
well-practiced. "But she's not here now." 

"Let me be clear.
I'm not available."

"None of the blogs
or gossip sites mentioned anything about a woman in your life. No one in The Fury
fan club knows anything about it. Who is she?" The mutinous glare on
Mikala's face reminded him of a volcano ready to blow.

"She's everything to
me. That's all you need to know."

"But I'm...
I'm..." She thrust out her chest and tossed her hair. "I'm perfect
for you. You'd see if you gave me a chance."

"You were here to
audition. For the band. Not for any other role. And you fucking lied about it
all." He raked a hand through his hair. Frustration mounted into a
pounding in his blood. His headache intensified. "Did you think we
wouldn't realize your voice didn't match the one in the video?"

"I thought you'd
meet me and not care about anything else." She lifted her shoulders.
"I'm better than whoever you're with."

"The woman I'm with
is the only one for me. And you're disqualified from the competition."

Eyes spitting fire,
Mikala pushed away from the table. "I'm not happy. Your new label will
hear from me."

He refrained from rolling
his eyes. His band mates wouldn't care. Then again, knowing the guys, they'd
likely bust his balls about it. Whatever. "Go ahead. I'm in charge of
complaints."

"You can go to
hell." She grabbed her purse and stalked out of the room.

That hadn't gone well.
Blowing out a breath, he picked up the camera and went in search of Ivan. The
bastard had high-tailed it to the hotel bar. Luke shoved the camera into Ivan's
gut. "Thanks for leaving me hanging, bud. I'll remember that on our next
tour."

Ivan pointed to the
screen. "I left it set on recording, genius. I figured she'd say more if I
wasn't there. So you have it documented."

"In that case, I owe
you a drink. And I think I'll join you. What a fucking day. Do me a favor and
forward the un-cut video to the guys. They need to see it."

Humid air greeted him
when he stepped outside an hour later, but he relished being free of the sticky
sweet perfume cloud he'd been stuck in all day. He fired off a text to his band
mates ranting about the Mikala mess, then sent a text to Audrey to check in on
her and headed to the hotel, in need of a shower and a pain killer.

By the time he finished
and had a clearer, pain-free head, she still hadn't responded. He checked
through his messages and did another social media sweep. People were commenting
on Mikala's pictures. He'd received notifications because she'd tagged him in
every one. What a fucking waste of time that had been.

His phone lit up with a
call from Brendan. Needing to vent, he answered. "Hey, did you see the
video?"

"Dude. Only you
would have this happen." Brendan chuckled and Luke could picture his gray
eyes brimming with laughter.

"It's not
funny."

"Nope. It was a
waste of time, and you handled yourself better than I would have expected. But
really, you're in charge of complaints for us?
You?
Our resident hot
head? I laughed so hard at that part, I nearly snorted beer out of my
nose."

For the first time in
hours, Luke cracked a smile. "Okay, so maybe I wouldn't be the first
choice there."

"Try the last."
He laughed again. "It'll be good to see you, man. Landry will be here
soon. Our flight is at the butt crack of dawn, so we'll be in New York late
morning, your time."

"Cool. You guys are
staying at my hotel, right?" He hoped so.

"Yeah. Irisa made
all the arrangements. Zander and Jayne are coming in from Maine, and Irisa is
flying out from LAX around the same time as Landry and me. I think we're all
meeting you at Audrey's studio at noon."

They chatted for a few
more minutes, until Landry had arrived and said his own hello. Bidding his
friends goodbye, Luke sat in the utter silence of the room.

He needed Audrey.

Finally, his phone pinged
with her response.

Sorry, was busy with show
stuff. Just got into a cab now.

Good. He'd feel a lot
better after holding her. Lying across his bed, he typed his reply.

Is it cool if I come
over?

He threw clothes into his
carry-on bag. Then her reply chimed.

No.

His lungs froze. They
hadn't slept apart since he'd returned from Nashville. He could sleep alone,
but preferred dropping off into dreams while wrapped in his dream come true.
Especially after the day he'd had.