Too Many Rock Stars (Access All Areas #1) (2 page)

I gave it a scan.

"Alex? That's you?"

He nodded. "That's my phone number and email for you to contact me."

His words said so little but his eyes actually managed to make that sound so dirty that I blushed.

With a brief glance at his bio, I could see he'd played some big name clubs. I'd contact them to make sure he wasn't shitting me but this was some impressive list.

"What are you doing, playing in a town like this?" I asked. I mean, the rock scene here was pretty darn hot but it wasn't big city hot. It wasn't make a zillion dollars and retire wealthy hot. If you are into that kind of thing.

"I have my reasons," he said. Then he smiled as though I was the only woman in the world and, for a split second, I forgot any resolve I had.

"Hey, listen, she's already told you she'll listen to the demo. There's no need for you to stick around. This place is officially off-limits and you shouldn't have been let in here."

Razer glared at Drew and poor Drew just put his head down and kept mopping. Although, to be honest, I had little sympathy for him because he'd let both of them in.

"Well, I guess I'll see you later," said Alex. Again the words seemed loaded with so much more subtext.

Razer grabbed Alex by the arm, pulling him out of the store room. Alex shrugged and went with him. At the same moment, both of them turned back to ogle me.

God, if I had one problem in this life it was too many rock stars.

I checked that creep was well away from the club before I left. Violet didn't need guys like him hanging around her and I sure as hell didn't want him at the club either.

He'd definitely taken off and I needed to kill some time before heading back to the club. I’d be back as soon as the place opened to get the bitter taste of that loser out of her mind. Who was he and where had he popped up from?

I didn't like surprises. I didn't like my plans being thwarted either.

I headed to the guitar shop. That was my place. The place where everything was happy and my heart felt at ease. Who wouldn't feel good surrounded by guitars?

Heat rose from the pavement in waves that went through the soles of my boots. A day like this would almost melt the rubber. Some kids on the street threw water balloons. I kept to the side of the footpath so I didn't get accidentally hit. One of those little buggers had a devilish look in his eyes and I had no intention of ending up saturated.

I hated that my plan had failed. It'd been a good plan. I'd get into Violet's office and she'd have no chance but to give me some of her attention. The woman had to feel the heat between us. Hell, those sparks were flying out in all directions, worse than the time Bill plugged his bass into a faulty amp and ended up in the hospital. The air crackled around us. She tried to avoid it by doing that thing where she lowered her head so I couldn't see into her eyes.

She just had some crazy prejudice about dating rockers. And I won't lie, most rockers I know aren't good enough to be the dirt under her feet. Not that I'm top notch or anything, but I worshipped that woman. She's the sun to my star, the words to my melody, the jam to my peanut butter. All I wanted was a chance to prove myself and I'd be everything good – kind, loyal, loving. I'd make her breakfast in bed and massage her feet. I’d never wake her from her nap ever again.

Since the day I first met Violet, she'd been the only one for me.

Sure, she went on with all that "get out of my office" talk but she didn't mean that. Well maybe that bit about her hating to be woken up was true. I rubbed my head. That boot had hit hard. But she'd been coming around to the idea when that knob jockey turned up.

If I couldn’t be with Violet for the rest of the day, I’d check out my baby. Because the one thing I loved in this world almost as much as Violet was
that
guitar. Maybe I loved the Les Paul more. If Violet showed some sign of returning my love, she'd make it to the number one slot for sure, but there's only so far you can get in a man's heart when you don't requite. My baby, now she requited. She requited like a bitch on heat, responding to my touch and giving back as much as I gave her. On a good day, the best of days, she was my world.

Still, a guitar is cold comfort in the middle of the night. And I knew if I got half a chance with Violet, she'd requite too.

They were a lot alike, my two loves. The reddish-brown of Violet’s hair almost the same colour as the cherry wood. Both with curves I wanted to run my hands over. Violet had brown eyes that flashed when she got angry. It was almost worth getting her angry to see the way her eyes gleamed. She had the kind of face you wouldn’t call pretty but more strong and fierce. I’d rather a girl who looked like Violet than some boring pretty girl any day.

Phil's Music World. Not only full of fucking sweet axes but also air conditioned. Just the smell of the place comforted me. Those fresh, virgin guitars and the older well-loved ones. The wood, the metal. I wandered around the shop, taking my time, not overly anxious, working my way up to my baby. The one guitar I coveted. That bitch hanging on the wall, I'd kill a man if I could make her mine.

You couldn't walk straight in and go to her though. There was a system, a way of working up to it.

It's called foreplay.

It took me a full hour to look around the shop before approaching her. Phil, the owner, had no beef with me getting her down and playing her. He'd offered to let me have a payment plan but I didn't hold with that kind of thing. I'd save and I'd work my guts out but I couldn't let her be packed off to some back room for who knows how long until I got my shit together. I just don't do it like that.

A girl like her needed to be on display and appreciated.

It was tough at the moment though. Things were slow at the site so the boss had given me some time off. That left me free to pester Violet but didn’t help the savings anyway.

My baby would have to wait.

A shudder of anticipation went through me as I reached up to her, easing my way in with a gentle touch, when the shop bell rang. Instinctively, I turned.

Holy fuck. It was that poser. Alex Shithead. In my guitar shop.

For some reason, I retreated. I didn't want to see that guy and I definitely did not want to talk to him. I'm not the kind of man to run and hide but he'd got my back up and I didn't want trouble. I left my baby and hid behind a shop display. I'd watch him, wait for him to leave then get back to business.

He strode through the store. That's the kind of poser he was, the kind that strode, not walked.

I hoped he just wanted to get some strings or something and then leave. He'd be off my turf.

The creep barely looked around the store, just went straight to the back. He obviously wasn't a man who knew about foreplay.

He stopped just before the counter. Near my baby. Awfully close to her.

My heart jumped up to my throat and my fists balled. Get away from her, I wanted to scream. I kept pretending to look at oboes though. Fixed my gaze on them and tried to control my breathing. I could see him out of the corner of my eye. You should never take your eyes off a snake in the grass like him completely.

That poser reached up. His hand was near my baby. He grabbed her, just went straight in for the grope. What an animal.

He picked her off the wall. His filthy hands were all over her. He held her like she was nothing.

I wanted to rush him then. Inaction made my blood throb in my veins like fuel through a V8. I'd smash that fucker to bits.

Except I couldn't hurt him without harming my baby. My baby was in his arms. If I threw him to the ground, she might break or get dented.

Before I could do anything, he was at the counter, wallet out. He hadn't even played her. He'd not caressed her. He'd not known the gentle joy of her. How could you even buy a guitar without playing her first?

That traitor, Phil, smiled and nodded. He didn't care that she was going to bad home. A home where she'd never be loved like she needed to be loved. A home where she'd not be precious.

The fucker just handed over cash and took her, like she was some cheap whore on a street corner. My baby should be treated better than that.

I'm not a man who cries easily. I'm not a man who cries often but, when I saw that wanker walk out with my baby, I had to wipe a tear from my eye.

Razer came up beside me as I stood at the bar. I turned to Carlie, the barmaid, and put my hand to my face to block him from my view. I was in no mood for chit-chat. He'd caused me enough trouble for one day.

Carlie rolled her eyes and got me another drink.

"I'll get that for you," Razer said.

"No need. I tell you every time, I get free drinks for working here.”

He stayed beside me though. It was a Tuesday night and things were pretty quiet. Well, quiet in that there weren’t many people in the bar. Upstairs, in the band room, a bunch of punk chicks screamed so loud, you could hear them down here. I'd asked one of the barmaids to take over working the door for me – she was actually rostered on to work the door but had thought she was too good to do it – and slipped out for a break. You had to be in the mood for that wall of sound kind of stuff and it wasn't my night for it.

He hovered around for a moment, not seeming to get the hint. If I started chatting to him, it'd only encourage him to stick around. I could be icy cold when it suited my purposes. He didn't even try to start a conversation. My freeze out was working.

“Hey Razer, come over and join us…” a girl standing at the bar called to him.

“Maybe, later.”

Every single person who came into the bar seemed to know Razer. It was amazing. I knew a lot of the regulars and, of course, the bands, but that was nothing compared to Razer’s popularity.

After a while, he picked up his drink and went back to his friends. I turned to watch him as he left. To be honest, he hadn't even tried that hard.

"What's with that?" Carlie asked. I didn't like the glint in her eyes.

"Huh?"

"You could do a lot worse than Razer. What? Are you going to be an old maid for the rest of your life? Living alone with a pack of cats?"

"You know, life could be a lot worse than that. Hell, cats can be house-trained but guitarists, not so much. Anyway, he's only hanging around so he gets more gigs booked. That much is certain."

Carlie poured a customer a beer then came back to me.

"Think about it, Violet. Does he need to do that? You can pretty much ensure good numbers when they play here. From a business point of view, he doesn't need to peddle his man-meat to get a spot on the roster. You just want to tell yourself that's the case so you don't have to face up to facts."

Before I could refute her crazy claims, a couple of business men came to the bar. They did that sometimes, the corporate types. And they always seemed like complete tools, standing at the bar in their suits looking a bit shell-shocked. Maybe they'd wandered in by accident. Carlie would make short work of them. They'd order one drink to save face, drink it down fast then leave.

The shorter one's gaze darted around the black, cave-like bar until it settled on a couple making out by the Galaga machine. He gave them the once over then must've realised where the guy's fingers were and his head spun back for a second look. He nudged his friend but the friend stared straight ahead, as though afraid to look too much.

Christos, the resident bar fly, moved up beside them, a joint in his hand and stood a little too close for comfort. He ranted at them about something. More than likely about sticking it to the man or the evils of corporations. Normally he slurred enough that you could only pick out every second or third word. He poked the taller one in the chest.

The taller guy just kept staring ahead, then jolted as Jackson make his way into his line of sight.

Jackson had a lot of anger in him. Anger on the verge of boiling over at any moment. The kind of anger that could see him knife a guy then walk away with a smile on his face.

He focused that anger on the suits until they twitched and scratched. Then he slowly grinned. Jackson's grin was a powerful scary thing.

Right on cue, the suits gulped down their drinks and left.

Carlie looked at me and laughed, shaking her head.

"Why do they even bother? They freak out when they come in here but seriously, those kind of guys are the biggest jerks after a few drinks. One idiot who came in the other night, too stubborn to leave even though I gave him all the signals, ended up making a complete dick of himself. You know young Gina who comes in here? Really shy girl? He had her bailed up against the wall. Jackson grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and dragged him out. I gave him a good, swift kick while he was at it."

Carlie laughed again. At least she was off the topic of my love life and I was happy to keep it like that. I didn't need the hassle.

Although she couldn't really say much about my lack of romance. I'd never seen her with a guy since she'd started working at the club – and that was nearly three years ago.

Carlie was one of the hottest chicks I'd ever met. Her short hair always looked messily perfect and she was pretty damn buff. She had words tattooed along her collarbones that meant nothing to me. She said they were the lyrics to her favourite song but it wasn't a song I'd ever heard. And, trust me, I've heard a lot of damn songs. I'd even Googled the words but nothing came up.

Maybe she was lesbian? It’s not like that had ever come up in conversation but then I’d never seen her with a chick either. No one at all, so she could stop with the crazy old cat lady comments.

I wasn’t planning on being single my entire life anyway, I just hadn't met the right man. The right man didn't play in a band and wasn’t a total jerk. That shouldn't be so hard. Only, with my job, they were the only men I ever met. Rockers and jerks.

"What's with you anyway? Most of the chicks who come in here would kill to be in your position. You can't be totally oblivious to that."

"Oblivious is a comfortable place to be."

Carlie cracked her gum. "You think you're too good for him?"

We both laughed.

"I know I'm too good for him. Say we go out and maybe he's on his best behaviour because he's trying to get me into the sack. That's all sweet but then, in a few weeks, maybe even days, he thinks he's won me over and it's all him, him, him. All he talks about is his band. I'm expected to stand in the background, supporting him. Then he starts coming home later at night. It's not going to take long to go from all hearts and flowers to messy break up and, in the meantime, I have to endure my life being all fractured. Just to end up alone again. I might as well skip it all and stay in the same place."

"That's for sure. I'll drink to that."

I raised my glass and Carlie grinned.

"Still, you'd get some sex. Don't you ever wonder what he'd be like in the sack?" She looked up and her face reddened. "Oh shit."

I didn't need to turn around. I knew she was looking at Razer. And he’d heard her speculating on his sexual prowess.

I could feel him standing behind me.

"Not so close, dude."

He just laughed. Even though I really meant it. He ordered another drink then sat himself down on the stool beside me.

"So, Vi, what about this gig?"

"Dude, it was only a couple of hours ago, give me a break. You'll get your gig. And don't ever call me Vi again. And also, don't wake me up when I'm napping."

Carlie handed him his beer. "Violet looks great tonight, doesn't she?" she said with a wink.

"I don't look great. You know what I look? Tired is what I look. Because I got woken up from my nap today."

"You sure wake up cranky too, even if you do look cute."

I don't know why this kept coming back to my looks. Sleep doesn't care what you look like. Sleep loves you unconditionally. If I looked great or I looked like shit, sleep would still embrace me. Even thinking about sleep made me sleepier.

Razer rubbed my shoulder but I slugged his hand off.

"Don't even try it. This is your fault."

Both he and Carlie laughed. I wasn't kidding though. I was dog tired and could barely stay awake. I was supposed to stick around to deal with the bands and help close up though. Maybe I could sneak off to my office and have a quick kip. Carlie could wake me for close up.

"Is Chuck coming in tonight?" I asked Carlie.

"Not that I know of. Why? Did you want to see him?"

Down the other end of the bar, some guy tapped coins impatiently against the bar. Carlie gave him a sneer then turned back to me.

"If someone was to say sneak off to their office for a little while, it's not like he'd notice... Someone who had their sleep disturbed earlier today by feral rockers..."

Carlie grinned.

"I'll give you a warning if he turns up but you should be clear. What time do you want me to wake you?"

"Maybe when the last band goes on. That should give me enough time. If the other bands want their cash, tell them to drop by tomorrow. These chicks and the next band have played here often enough to know the drill. I don't need to babysit them going on."

She grinned. "Sure thing."

"Need some company?" Razer asked. Again with the dimple but dimples are nothing compared to the need for sleep. He could keep his dimples to himself.

"That is exactly what I don't need. I need peace and quiet. You are the enemy of sleep, you have already proven that."

I walked off without looking back. It was stupid that I had to hang around the bar all night and, if the boss didn't like it, screw him. I needed to sleep.

As I tried to get comfortable though, the weird feeling of Razer's hand on my shoulder seemed to haunt me. It had been a surprisingly tender touch, not the kind of thing I'd expected from him. Despite what Carlie said that though, I didn't trust that guy. He had no impulse control.

And this new guy, Alex. The way he'd wrapped me in his arms. It'd been like a dream.

Not that either of them was in the running for my affections.