Rock Star Romance: Dan (Contemporary New Adult Rockstar Bad Boy Romance) (Hard Rock Star Series Book 4) (4 page)

****

I had just finished setting up for the day’s
recordings when Jules, Nick, and Mark came into the live room, talking amongst
themselves. “I’m telling you, we need to punch up the vocals on ‘Turnstile,’”
Nick was saying to Jules. “But Alex won’t listen to me, and Jack’s taking his
side.”

“Jack’s on the side of the album,” Jules said,
shaking his head. “If you want to suggest a change, make your case to him.”

“Dan—what do you think?” Nick glanced at me as he
bent over to pick up one of his guitars.

“I think it’s worth looking at,” I replied. Mark
stepped behind the drum kit. “Alex has been getting all ‘artistic integrity’
though.”

“He’s on my ass about the drum sounds, too,” Mark
said.

“Well he should be—you were all sloppy on the
fills yesterday,” I told him.

“I wasn’t sloppy!” Mark scowled at me.

“You kind of were,” Nick countered, grinning.

“Ah—fuck you,” Mark said. Alex came into the room.

“How are we doing today, gents?”

“Got a date for Friday,” Mark said, throwing his
hands up in the air.

“With who?” Nick tried a chord on his Epiphone and
nodded to himself, satisfied with the tone.

“New bartender at Respects,” Mark replied. My hand
slipped on the neck of my bass.

“Really?” I hadn’t mentioned my upcoming date with
Sophie to Mark—I figured he didn’t need to know until after I found out if
there was anything to it.

“That Sophie chick?” Nick raised an eyebrow and
looked at me. I’d told him about going home with Sophie, and that we’d made a
date. 

“Yeah,” Mark said. “I gave her my number the other
night and we’ve been texting back and forth a bit. I’m taking her to the De
Sade show.” Nick looked at me again, and I shrugged—hopefully not enough that
Mark could see.

“Five minutes, guys,” Jack said from the control
room. “Let’s get this show rolling, shall we?”

We started in on the first track, and I tried to
focus on the task at hand, but the fact that Mark had a date with Sophie stuck
in the back of my mind. Mark didn’t know that I had a date with Sophie; so there
was no reason for me to be mad at him—but I was. I was mad at Sophie too,
probably with more reason. After all, she had made a date with me, and then
turned around and made one with Mark as well.
You did tell her to text him
if she was interested,
I reminded myself, but even then it didn’t seem like
any kind of excuse. She knew that Mark and I were in a band together—and she
should have been able to figure out that it would put a strain on things
between us to both go after the same woman.

“We’re getting ragged in the rhythm section,” Jack
said from the control room after we went through one of the new songs for the
third time.

“What’s up?” Jules looked from Mark to me and back
again. “You two are never sloppy like this.”

“It’s nothing,” I said. “Just tired.”

“Take a break,” Alex suggested. He turned to the
control room. “We’re going to take five, Jack—I think we’re overthinking this
whole thing.”

“Make it ten, get a cigarette and come back,” Jack
suggested. I checked my pockets, found my phone and cigarettes, and put my bass
down. I had to get out of the room—and I definitely needed to confront Sophie
about what I’d found out. If she was going to play Mark and I off against each
other, I’d cancel the damn date; I didn’t need that kind of drama in my life.
Fuming, I left the studio and headed outside, blinking against the bright,
mid-afternoon sun.

I sank down onto the grass, took my phone out of
my pocket, lighting a cigarette and found Sophie’s number in my contact list.
She’d given it to me before I’d left her apartment a few days before, and I’d
texted her once or twice since then—mostly just how-are-you, checking in-type
messages. I’d been totally clueless to the fact that she’d even followed up
with Mark.
Hey,
I wrote.
Just heard some interesting news.
I
tapped send and set my phone down on my knee while I smoked, trying to keep my
anger in proportion.

A moment later, my phone vibrated and I looked at
it.
What news would that be? Something up with the album?
I pressed my
lips together until my throat tickled from the smoke hanging in it. I exhaled
the smoke and coughed.

Actually I heard that you have a date with
Mark,
I wrote back. I wasn’t about to sugarcoat anything.
Anything to
say about that?
I checked the time; I had another couple of minutes before
we had to go back into the studio and get back to work.

He asked me out, I said yes. You told me to
text him if I was interested.
I stubbed out my cigarette and shook my head
to myself.

I also asked you out, and you said yes.
I
took a deep breath.
And you said yes to me first. What’s the deal there?
I slipped my phone into my pocket and stood up. I wasn’t sure there was even
anything that Sophie could say that would matter to me at that point; the fact
that she hadn’t apologized or offered any kind of justification, any kind of
reasoning behind accepting dates from two guys at the same time, pissed me off.

Before I could walk back inside the complex,
though, Nick appeared. “I talked Jack into a longer break,” he said, looking me
up and down. “We going to have drama between you and Mark now?”

“Mark didn’t know I’d asked her out,” I pointed
out.

“But she knew—at least I assume you asked her out
first,” Nick said. He took his cigs out and gestured for me to sit down.

“Am I about to get a pep talk from you? Because I
gotta say, the idea of getting relationship advice from a guy who until—what—a
year ago was fucking everything with two legs and a vagina…”

“The two legs thing wasn’t a prerequisite,” Nick
said with a little smirk. I rolled my eyes.

“Anyway: say whatever the fuck you came to say.”

“You’re pissed off,” Nick said, lighting up. “I
get it.”

“You say that like most people wouldn’t get me
being pissed over my best friend going on a date with a girl I’m into,” I
countered.

“How many times have you and Mark ended up fucking
the same girl? At least five, right?”

“That’s different,” I insisted. “Those
weren’t…they were just chicks on the road.”

“Still, you put your dick somewhere Mark did. And
vice versa. Hell, you’ve fucked girls who fell out of Alex’s bunk too.” Nick
shrugged. “We all have. What’s the issue now?”

“So you’re saying that I shouldn’t be upset about
it because Mark and I have fucked the same groupies before,” I said. I lit
another cigarette; Nick shrugged and took another drag of smoke.

“You’re pissed because you’re actually into her,”
Nick said matter-of-factly. “But are you pissed at him, or are you pissed at
her?” I considered the question.

“It’s alternating,” I admitted. “Even though I
know I don’t really have a reason to be pissed at Mark—it’s not like he knows
anything.”

“So talk to him about it,” Nick suggested. “See
what he does. If he backs off—then just be mad at her.”

“And if he doesn’t back off?” Nick looked at his
cig for a moment or two.

“Then figure out whether you really want to have
shit with him,” Nick said. “We’ve got work to do, man. We can’t get this album
done right if you and Mark are having drama and trying to point fingers at
who’s being sloppy in the studio when you’re actually both out of sync because
you’re not listening to each other.” Nick stood on his long, skinny legs and
stubbed his cigarette out against the wall. “Finish that and come back in.
We’ll get through it.”

****

I thought about what Nick had said the entire time
we were in the studio that day. I knew I didn’t have any right to be pissed at
Mark until after I confronted him about what had happened; but I didn’t know
if—technically—I even would have a right to be pissed at him even then. Mark
had acted in his own interest, just like I had. Sophie was a separate issue—at
least that’s what I thought at first. She had gone from not dating anyone in
the local scene to dating two guys in the local scene at the same time, and
both of them members of the same band.
Benny’s sure as hell going to be
pissed off about it,
I thought wryly.

I knew I should talk to Mark about the situation,
but there wasn’t an opportunity for the rest of the day. The five of us went
through one song after another, recording, stopping, talking, recording again,
tweaking this, changing that, talking some more. We mostly worked on the songs
that Alex and Nick had written together, and in some respects it was exactly
the way that it always had been—wrangling out details, talking about changes,
reworking this or that or the other thing.

But it was obvious to me at least that things
weren’t exactly the same way as they’d always been. Jules was more aggressive
with his suggestions. Mark wasn’t as patient with working out what exactly Alex
wanted from the drums. I wasn’t gelling with the beat the way that I normally
did.

“What the hell was that?” Alex turned to look at
me when we came to the end of a song—his song—that we’d already played through
about half a dozen times and recorded three of those times.

“What do you mean, what was it?” I looked from
Alex to Jules to Nick, to see if either of them had a similar issue with my
playing.

“You totally dropped the beat in the second verse,
and what the fuck was that bit in the chorus?” Alex shook his head.

“You’re the one that keeps changing it,” Jules
pointed out. “Hell, it’s a wonder I even knew what you wanted to play.”

“But you did,” Alex insisted. “What’s going on,
Dan?” I shrugged.

“Nothing,” I said. It was a lie of course, but I
wasn’t about to drag my issues with Mark out into the studio live room.

“Let’s go through it one more time, recording off,
and see if we can’t get it right,” Nick suggested. “And this time let’s stick
with the original. I’m not solid on that riff in the third verse anyway.”

“Think you’re up for it, Dan?” Alex gave me a
sharp, almost a mocking look.

“Sure,” I said, smiling in spite of how irritated
I felt. “Let’s go over it again. But none of that new shit you’re wanting in
it—just the normal fucking song, okay?”

“Mark, count in.” I felt my heart beating faster
as Mark hit his sticks together to count the beat off, but I pushed the feeling
aside. I was in the studio to work; I’d get a chance to talk to Mark after we
finished for the day. Nick came in, and then Jules, and then I started playing
the bass line, listening to Mark’s beat and trying to separate him from the
beat I had to follow. I closed my eyes and just listened to the music swirling
around me, fitting the notes I played into the fabric of the song itself,
following along as mindlessly as possible. I could play the original version of
this song—the way Alex had first presented it to us—in my sleep. I didn’t even
listen to Alex singing; all I did was go along with the rhythm and melody
without thinking.

“Better,” Alex said when we came to the end once
more.

“I think we have it solid now,” Jack said from the
control room. “Why don’t we revisit this after you’ve had some time to get the
parts into your muscle memory? Call it a day.” I looked at Alex; ever since
he’d taken up with Mary the perfectionist streak in him had come out more and
more, and it was hard to know when it would show up. He looked at each of us in
turn and then nodded.

“Yeah,” he said. “We’re not going to get it any
better than that today. Let’s call it done, and we’ll listen to the replays tomorrow
when we get in.”

We started putting our shit away, and I rehearsed
what I was going to say to Mark in my mind. I couldn’t start out in anger; Mark
hadn’t known that I’d already asked Sophie out. Hell—I hadn’t even told him
that I’d stayed the night at her place. He was just doing what made sense: he
had given her his phone number, he had made the move, he had closed the deal. I
couldn’t blame him for any of that. But I’d asked her out first. Really, both
of us should be mad at Sophie; she was playing us.

Mark somehow managed to clear out before I could
get my thoughts together. I heard him saying his goodbyes and almost dropped
what I was doing to follow him; but instead I finished putting away my guitars
and gathering up my things. I didn’t even know what to say to him—I didn’t know
where to start. I didn’t really have any kind of specific claim on Sophie in
spite of the fact that she’d said yes to going on a date with me. All I had was
some resentment that one of my best friends had unknowingly asked out the same
girl I wanted to see.

I was still thinking about the situation when I
left the complex. “Dan!” I looked up and stopped in my tracks. Sophie was
sitting on the hood of my car, a few feet away from me.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I stared at
her. She was wearing a jumper and a tee shirt, and something about the cut of
it, about the way it looked on her, made her sexier than ever.
Don’t give
into it. Don’t.

“Well, you weren’t answering your text messages,”
Sophie pointed out. She slid off the hood of my car and walked up to me. “So I
figured that if I wanted a chance to make things right, I would have to do it
in person.” I raised an eyebrow.

“How long have you been waiting there?” Sophie
gave me that little knowing smile.

“About an hour,” she said. “Fortunately I’m off
tonight so even if you stayed in there until midnight it would’ve been okay.” I
couldn’t help myself; I laughed.

“Okay,” I said. I resisted the urge to reach out
for the hips that practically begged for my hands on them. “So how are you
going to make this right?” Sophie crossed her arms over her chest and looked up
at me.

“I was going to tell you that I get why you’re
upset. I shouldn’t have accepted a date from Mark.” I nodded.

“Go on,” I said.

“I am going to tell him that I have to cancel,”
Sophie told me. “I should give you precedence since you asked me first.”

“That is very mature of you,” I said, resisting
the urge to smile. “And so fucking eloquent.” I found myself moving closer to
her instinctively. “But I’m not sure it’s enough to make up for going behind my
back.”

“I didn’t!” Sophie looked up at me sharply. “You
said to text him back and to go out with him if I wanted to,” she pointed out.

“I said if you were interested,” I corrected.

“Whatever,” Sophie said. She rolled her eyes. “So
what will it take for you to forgive me for creating tension between you and
Mark?”

“Go to dinner with me,” I told her. “That’ll make
up for it.” I moved closer still; it was like her body was a magnet, drawing me
in, almost against my will. “Go to dinner with me and don’t tell Mark why you
have to cancel.”

“The first: okay,” Sophie said. “The second: why?”
I licked my lips. I wanted to kiss her so badly I could almost taste it.

“I need to talk to him, guy-to-guy,” I told her.
“Just let me handle it.” Sophie looked up at me, meeting my gaze with her big,
dark eyes for a long moment.

“Okay,” she said. “We’ll do it your way. Where are
you taking me for dinner?”

“Oh—you’re taking
me
to dinner,” I told
Sophie. “After all, you’re the one who wronged me.”

“You make so much more money than I do! That’s not
fair. Besides, you said go to dinner with you, not take you to dinner.”

“We’ll split the check,” I suggested. Sophie
pouted, shaking her head.

“This isn’t a date then?” I laughed.

“It is, but it’s a makeup date. You’re making it
up to me for going after my friend after you already said yes to me. So you pay
for your own food. Next week, when we have our actual date, I’ll pay.” Sophie
flashed that little smile up at me and I almost couldn’t resist the urge to
kiss her.

“Deal,” she said. Sophie took a step back and
laughed, shaking her head. “I cannot believe you got me to agree to that.”
Sophie half-turned away from me and slipped her keys out of her pocket. “You’re
lucky you’re hot.”

“Lucky? Luck has nothing to do with it,” I
informed her. “I have the most aggressive skin care regimen of anyone in the
band.” Sophie snorted.

“Where am I going?”

“Get in the car,” I told her. “I’ll bring you back
by here to get your ride after dinner.” Sophie gave me a watchful look, but
slipped her keys back into her pocket.

“I will so get a fucking Lyft if you use this as
an excuse to be an ass,” she said firmly.

“I promise I will be a perfect fucking gentleman,”
I said. “Get in the car.”