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

5,
Kingsroad and Heatkeeper; I accepted both invites and closed out the app.
    “Yo, Dan! Break’s over, man,” Nick said from the
door.
    “Give me two seconds, I need to finish this,” I
told him, waving the cigarette butt in his direction. I thought about Sophie,
not for the first time since I’d seen her at Respects; as I took a last drag of
my cig and stubbed it out, I wondered if she went to any local shows. Probably
not—she’d get her fill of bands working at the club. I went back into the
studio and pushed her out of my head.

 
    ****
    Propaganda was fucking packed; I had to wait an
extra five minutes at the bar to get my Jack and coke—and Kelsey the bartender
knew me, and knew I tipped more than decent. But Mark was with me, and Nick and
Olivia had even agreed to come out; Olivia had an article due about Atreides
anyway, and thought she could get some good pictures at the show. It was so damned
hot it felt like the walls were sweating, but of course Nick—a few feet away
from me—looked like he might as well have been in a walk-in fridge, and Mark
somehow managed to make “sweaty and red-faced” look like a legitimate fashion
choice.
    I looked around the packed club while Heatkeeper
set up, not at anything in particular but just to keep from getting bored; most
of the people I saw were regulars—Lake Worth people, who practically lived at
the club because it was a dependable place to go, and only a few blocks from
their homes. It was about forty minutes away from my place in Deerfield, but
Mark had already said we could crash at his brother’s place in Delray.
    As I was looking around, I spotted her. Sophie had
her hair down instead of in pigtails, but her face in profile—and the deep,
mermaid-green color of her hair—was instantly recognizable. She must have
gotten her hair cut or something, because it looked shorter than it had when it
was up, and it was half-plastered to her face with sweat; but she looked hot as
hell in a tight, pink, old school Middle Class Brats tee shirt, a black and
white plaid miniskirt and a pair of suspenders. I couldn’t see what kind of
shoes she had on, but I didn’t care; just the sight of her, the shirt starting
to go a little transparent from sweat, her tits straining the front of it, the
skirt barely—barely—covering the curve of her ass, was enough to almost make me
forget I was at Prop for a show. She was smoking a cigarette, pressed up
against the bar, talking to Benny from Jackal 5; I looked around to make sure
that Mark was busy, and slowly made my way in her direction.
    “No, you are not going to get Mel to make
one of your specials for Ricky,” Sophie was telling Benny when I finally got
within hearing distance. She flicked the ash off the end of her cigarette and
shook her head. “The last time you came up with a special drink for him he
spewed Jaeger and schnapps all over my fucking kitchen floor and I had to clean
it up.”
    “Make him clean it up this time,” Benny said with
a shrug. Sophie rolled her eyes and turned to look around. I hadn’t realized
how short she was, the week before at Respects; up close, without the bar
between us, she was something like half a foot shorter than me.
    “If he spews in my kitchen tonight I’m going to
make you clean it up,” Sophie told Benny. Benny caught sight of me and
grinned.
    “Danny boy!” I smiled at him. Sophie turned to
find out who Benny was talking to and her eyebrows went up at the sight of me.
I gave her a quick grin and set my drink down to fish my cigarettes out of my
pocket.
    “Fucking packed in here,” I said, shaking my head.
“You guys still play that cover of The Cranberries, Benny?”
    “Of course we do,” Benny said, shaking his head at
me. “It brings down the fucking house—we can’t take it off the set list.”
    “Benny wants to feed Ricky some disgusting
combination of alcohol to see what happens,” Sophie explained to me, clucking
her tongue against her teeth.