Rise (Rock God 1)

“Hunter, what’s it like hanging out with The Stuffed Muffins?” I roll my eyes at the kiss-ass paparazzi.

Hunter either is a pro at working the room, or he loves them. God, he’s almost as coveted as all The Stuffed Muffins combined. They have that in common. Every member of The Stuffed Muffins is to-die-for hot, and Hunter Falcon fits right in with his California surfer boy look.

He’s also a machine. I don’t know how he does it, but he never gets tired. He’s probably ten years older than me, but the man can shoot all night, get three hours of sleep, then text me because he came up with a great idea about following Cash around as he goes on his morning runs.

That might be why I’m so burned out already. Because I don’t care that Cash runs every day.

I almost told him that this morning. But knowing Hunter, he would have had Sebastian turn the camera on me.

That’s another thing I’m going to have to deal with. Not only is Hunter a consummate flirt, he desperately wants to interview me. I have declined that along with a lot of dinner dates.

I look down at my white sneakers. I rushed to get ready, so my hair is piled on top of my head in a messy bun and I’m wearing light makeup: mascara and red lipstick. Which is stupid since everyone is always late. I lift my camera and snap some shots of Nuke. He’s laughing, and even though it’s freezing and slightly raining, he’s still shirtless. It works for him. His body is all muscle and lean. But I can’t remember seeing him in a shirt in the week that we’ve been filming.

“Stop it.” Sebastian smirks at me. I look up at him. I guess he saw the eye rolls.

“What? I’m tired,” I groan as he wraps an arm around me.

“Do you need a Valium? I can feel your energy.” He looks concerned. I wish I could reassure him, but honestly, the lack of sleep and being around Rhys is messing with me.

“If they’d get their asses on the jet, we’d be there in no time,” I grumble, ignoring the throngs of women surrounding Rhys.

“Why can’t I just take the train?” I look up at Sebastian’s handsome face.

“Because you can’t.” He digs in his pocket.

“Here. Take this now.” He hands me a yellow pill with a V on it. I take it without water and reach into my bag for my cigarettes.

“I thought you were stopping.”

“I am, just not today.” My eyes narrow as I light up.

He holds up his hands like I’m robbing him. “I’m not gonna bitch while we’re filming. Also, Hunter loves your photos. I heard him bragging to someone on the phone yesterday about you.”

I roll my eyes. “You do know he wants to sleep with me,” I mumble, blowing the smoke out into the gray, rainy atmosphere.

“You said no. He’s been respectful, right?”

I smile at his protective side coming out. “Yes, although I have a feeling he thinks he can charm my panties off me.” I roll my neck, hearing it crack. I need a freakin’ chiropractor.

“He’s a creative genius. And completely self-absorbed. I mean, for him not to have picked up on the sexual tension between you and Granger.” He turns me so that I’m facing the action as he massages my shoulders.

My eyes go straight to Rhys. As if he can feel me, he looks over. “There’s no tension,” I say automatically as I try to look away from his intimate stare but can’t.

“All right, we are cleared to take off. Let’s go.” Rafe walks up. He pats Sebastian like they’re pals while he grabs my arm, forcing me to speed walk with him toward the jet.

And here it comes. I shouldn’t get on this plane today. I’m ready to freak, and all I’m doing so far is climbing the stairs.

“Stop pushing me,” I say to Rafe who’s ignoring me.

He puts a hand up, blocking a couple of groupies from climbing the steps. “Sorry, my loves. We need to see how many we have before I let more on.”

I almost say you can have my spot, but like a nitwit I keep climbing until I stop at the entrance. The jet is amazing. It seats close to twenty-five people with a massive bar in the back, which is where the cool kids—meaning the band members—get to sit. It’s decorated in white and black, as in the seats are white, buttery leather, the carpet is thick and black, and the tables are black, along with all the sleek, voice-activated TVs that slide down when needed.

God, what is wrong with me today? My flying phobia hasn’t been this bad in a while. Sebastian and I flew back to LA, and I was shockingly calm. Might have been because I was running away from Rhys and what happened in my room. Whatever, I made it.