Read Online I Want You to Want Me (Rock Star Romance #2) by Erika Kelly - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Erika Kelly
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blow up because of partying and nymphs and rock star behavior.
No, he didn’t need a babysitter. But truthfully? It
wasn’t
working.
He twisted off the cap and downed half the bottle.
It wouldn’t hurt to have someone looking out for the bullshit stuff—the drugs, drinking, and partying. It’d give him a chance to have a little fun himself.
He thought of Gen, how he should’ve been able to have time alone with her last night. He
should
be having fun—not just handling things.
Soft laughter drew his attention back to the trio at the table. As he stood before them, all their eyes turned to him, and he said, “Okay.”
Violet’s features warmed and lightened. “Okay.”
• • •
Standing to the side of the stage, where she had a clear view of both the band and the audience, Violet watched the sea of ecstatic faces. Gazes pinned on the lead singer, the crowd screamed, danced, and sang along to the final song of the night.
She completely understood why the women called him Slater-fucking-Vaughn. It wasn’t about his outrageously good looks or his incredibly hard body. It was the accessibility, the humility. He just came across as a really nice guy, who happened to rock a pair of jeans like a model.
Weirdly, though, while Slater commanded the attention with his stage presence and deeply emotional singing, her gaze always seemed to wander back to the bass player.
An intense bundle of energy locked into a rock-hard body, Derek didn’t show off or try to draw attention to himself. Instead, he got lost in the music, sometimes closing his eyes, his head moving like he was reading the beat in the air. His passion drew her in, made her fixate on him.
Just then, as if sensing her interest, he opened his eyes and looked right at her. Awareness exploded in her chest, sending a shower of fiery sparks throughout her body.
Oh, brother. In his worn jeans that molded the hard muscles of his thighs and ass and his big black boots, he was pure, hot
man
.
With a screech of instruments, the song came to an abrupt end. The audience went crazy, rushing the stage and screaming. Ben tossed his drumsticks into the crowd, Derek hefted his guitar over his head with one hand andpumped it a few times, while Slater shouted, “We fuckin’ love you guys,” before leaving the stage.
The guys brushed past, not even noticing her. She could see the wildness in their eyes, the sweat on their skin, the savage smiles. They were amped up, just as Derek had described.
Forcing herself into work mode, she joined their entourage, trailing behind them, keeping her sights on Pete. So many people hugged them, shook their hands, it was hard to see more intimate interactions—like who was handing him a snack-sized baggie.
“First time backstage?”
She whipped around to face Derek. With a white hand towel, he mopped his face.
My God, he’s gorgeous.
Towering over her with an almost feral energy, his worn black T-shirt clung to his broad shoulders and thick arms. A tribal tattoo banding around his right biceps only heightened his rugged appeal.
“Oh, no. My clients get all kinds of invitations. I’ve been to every kind of show or event you can think of.”
“You don’t seem pleased. Didn’t like the show?”
She gazed into amber eyes that studied her with unnerving intensity. Where Slater had movie star good looks and charisma, Derek had a rougher, earthier vibe. Scruffy chin whiskers, tats, and an aura of pure sexuality gave him an edge that made her just a little uncomfortable.
Not that she thought of him sexually, but if she did, she’d think of him as hard, demanding, and
completely
uninhibited.
Why did that get her excited? She’d never been with anyone like that before.
Okay, not thinking about Derek Valencia in that context.
“I loved the show. You guys are terrific. It’s just . . .” She gestured to the backstage frenzy. “It’s hard to keep an eye on three guys in all this chaos.”
He leaned in
No, he didn’t need a babysitter. But truthfully? It
wasn’t
working.
He twisted off the cap and downed half the bottle.
It wouldn’t hurt to have someone looking out for the bullshit stuff—the drugs, drinking, and partying. It’d give him a chance to have a little fun himself.
He thought of Gen, how he should’ve been able to have time alone with her last night. He
should
be having fun—not just handling things.
Soft laughter drew his attention back to the trio at the table. As he stood before them, all their eyes turned to him, and he said, “Okay.”
Violet’s features warmed and lightened. “Okay.”
• • •
Standing to the side of the stage, where she had a clear view of both the band and the audience, Violet watched the sea of ecstatic faces. Gazes pinned on the lead singer, the crowd screamed, danced, and sang along to the final song of the night.
She completely understood why the women called him Slater-fucking-Vaughn. It wasn’t about his outrageously good looks or his incredibly hard body. It was the accessibility, the humility. He just came across as a really nice guy, who happened to rock a pair of jeans like a model.
Weirdly, though, while Slater commanded the attention with his stage presence and deeply emotional singing, her gaze always seemed to wander back to the bass player.
An intense bundle of energy locked into a rock-hard body, Derek didn’t show off or try to draw attention to himself. Instead, he got lost in the music, sometimes closing his eyes, his head moving like he was reading the beat in the air. His passion drew her in, made her fixate on him.
Just then, as if sensing her interest, he opened his eyes and looked right at her. Awareness exploded in her chest, sending a shower of fiery sparks throughout her body.
Oh, brother. In his worn jeans that molded the hard muscles of his thighs and ass and his big black boots, he was pure, hot
man
.
With a screech of instruments, the song came to an abrupt end. The audience went crazy, rushing the stage and screaming. Ben tossed his drumsticks into the crowd, Derek hefted his guitar over his head with one hand andpumped it a few times, while Slater shouted, “We fuckin’ love you guys,” before leaving the stage.
The guys brushed past, not even noticing her. She could see the wildness in their eyes, the sweat on their skin, the savage smiles. They were amped up, just as Derek had described.
Forcing herself into work mode, she joined their entourage, trailing behind them, keeping her sights on Pete. So many people hugged them, shook their hands, it was hard to see more intimate interactions—like who was handing him a snack-sized baggie.
“First time backstage?”
She whipped around to face Derek. With a white hand towel, he mopped his face.
My God, he’s gorgeous.
Towering over her with an almost feral energy, his worn black T-shirt clung to his broad shoulders and thick arms. A tribal tattoo banding around his right biceps only heightened his rugged appeal.
“Oh, no. My clients get all kinds of invitations. I’ve been to every kind of show or event you can think of.”
“You don’t seem pleased. Didn’t like the show?”
She gazed into amber eyes that studied her with unnerving intensity. Where Slater had movie star good looks and charisma, Derek had a rougher, earthier vibe. Scruffy chin whiskers, tats, and an aura of pure sexuality gave him an edge that made her just a little uncomfortable.
Not that she thought of him sexually, but if she did, she’d think of him as hard, demanding, and
completely
uninhibited.
Why did that get her excited? She’d never been with anyone like that before.
Okay, not thinking about Derek Valencia in that context.
“I loved the show. You guys are terrific. It’s just . . .” She gestured to the backstage frenzy. “It’s hard to keep an eye on three guys in all this chaos.”
He leaned in
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