Hard as Rock (The Rock Star's Seduction 3)

She leapt back up as Derek continued to wail on Ryan – but this time, she lunged for his head.

Specifically, his ear.

And bit.

There was a spurt of red and an outraged shout from Derek. He wrenched himself away from Riley and fell to the floor, clutching his ear.

Riley stood above him, blood on her mouth and wife-beater.

The entire audience was screaming now, on the knife’s edge of violent hysteria.

Riley looked possessed. Or like a rabid dog. Maybe both. She launched herself at Derek again –

But by then twelve security guys were onstage.

One of them bear-hugged Riley from the back. Another guy grabbed her legs to stop the kicking and stomping.

Another one pulled Ryan to his feet and hustled him off the opposite side of the stage.

Another lifted up Derek, still clutching his ear with blood-soaked hands, and followed behind Ryan at a safe distance.

The other eight stayed behind to throw back the fans rushing the stage and trying to join the fight.

Chaos erupted as the sea of humanity surged forward. Cups and beer cans rained down like a hailstorm.

Killian, who had been watching the whole debacle with the sad, detached air of a funeral-goer, quickly hustled to safety.

“Get her out of here!” Miles shouted, and my roadie me pulled away from the carnage and into the darkness backstage.

113

My roadie chaperone sat beside me in the back seat of a car as someone else drove to the hotel. I sobbed the entire time for them to let me go see Ryan and Derek, but nobody paid me any heed.

Turns out that was the best thing after all. I got out of the car in front of the W and saw Miles pacing in agitation.

“They want to see you,” he said as he grabbed my arm and hustled me inside.

“They’re already here?”

“The doc’s patching them up as we speak.”

“They didn’t go to the hospital?”

“No – that might involve the police, which is something

I’d

like to avoid.”

I let Miles guide me through the lobby to the elevator, my legs working robotically as my mind spun out of control.

I kept replaying the scene over and over again, of Ryan lunging for Derek, of Derek taking him down, of Derek punching him until a 98-pound punk rocker chick handed him his ass. Or his ear, I guess.

Despite my abhorrence of what had happened, though, I have to admit something. I’m not proud of this, but it’s the truth, however ugly:

The whole thing turned me on the slightest bit.

It wasn’t like I was thinking,

Oh, that was cool!

If anything, I was thinking,

Oh my God, that was horrible!

The key word in there is ‘thinking.’

The lizard part of my brain, that primal part of me, the Id, whatever you want to call it – that part was… well… kind of stoked.

It wasn’t every day that two gorgeous men I loved came to blows over me.

In a really fucked-up, Neanderthal kind of way, it was one of the hottest things ever.

So while my thinking mind was wailing

How could they do that?

there was a part of me way deep down that kind of got off on it.

Like I said, ugly. But it was the truth.

However, I was caught again staring at the Gordian Knot, the unsolvable problem. Two men, both incredible, both sexy, both with their good points and bad, had fought each other because they were in love with me –

And now I had to choose one.

I thought I had already decided on Ryan.

But I was torn – now more than ever.

The thinking part of me still yearned for Ryan, but the id – the deepest, darkest part of me – hungered for Derek.

It was like the angel on my right shoulder pleaded for Ryan, but the devil on my left wanted Derek.

And I didn’t know what to do.

But I knew with nauseated surety that I was going to have to figure it out quick.

114

We entered the suite where the band had gathered for meetings and to hang out. Derek was on one side with a medic bandaging his earlobe. Ryan was on the other side of the room with an ice pack over his eye. Next to him sat Killian, nervously plucking at his guitar.

Several beefy roadies – and Riley, of all people – stood in the middle of the suite like a barrier between the warring sides. Riley was sporting a purple bruise on her cheek, but otherwise didn’t look any the worse for wear. As long as you could overlook the dried blood on her wifebeater.

As soon as Miles and I walked in, though, Derek and Ryan stood up.

“Are you okay?” they both asked at the same time, then glared at each other.

Then they both looked expectantly at me.

It was like one of those contests you see in the movies, where two kids are calling to a dog to see which kid it will go to – and thus who will get to keep it.

Not that I like comparing myself to a dog, mind you, but that’s how it felt.

But I was frozen to the spot. I couldn’t move towards either.

Luckily, a bunch of things happened that covered up my indecisiveness.

“Is

she

okay?” Miles said in disbelief, then shouted, “Have either of you two fuckin’ idjits

looked

at yourself?”

“What about

me?”

Riley yelled at Derek. “What about askin’ if

I’m

okay?”

“I don’t give a fuck about

you!”

Derek yelled. “YOU nearly bit my goddamn ear off!”