The Rocker Who Holds Me (The Rocker 1) - Page 5

The rushing around has made me dizzy and my stomach is still protesting. But I’m not in the mood to argue with him. If he knows that I’m sick he will insist on my going to a doctor. Not going to happen! “Thanks for being up.” I muttered.

“Em…” He trails off when I turn to leave.

I ignore him as I step into the elevator and go one floor up. Drake’s room stinks of sweat, booze and sex. But thankfully the girl—or possibly even girls considering the number of condom wrappers on the floor beside the bed—are gone. He’s already somewhat awake when I walk in. Of course that’s because he’s head is in in the toilet. The sound of him puking makes my own gag reflex overreact and I dry heave in the sink. Green bile is all that I can produce and I turn the tap on so that I can swallow a few mouthfuls. At least now I have something to come up.

Drake’s sweaty hand touches my back. “Em?” His voice croaks my name and I glance down at him, wiping sweat off my upper lip. “You okay?”

I give him a weak smile. “Guess we both had a rough morning.” I mumble.

He groans as he gets to his feet. He’s butt naked but neither of us care. I’ve seen every inch of my guys. None of us are shy about our body parts. No one bats an eye when we see each other naked…Okay maybe I bat an eye or two when I see Nik naked, but I would never let them know. “You never get sick.”

I shrug. “I’m fine. Nothing to worry about. Take a shower, okay?” He nods and I turned to leave. “Brush your teeth.” I remind him.

Ten minutes later they are all seated on the long sofa in the conference room. A buffet of breakfast foods has already been set out. I try to breathe through my mouth to keep from being too overcome with the smells. Normally I would make them a plate of food and cups of coffee, but this morning I don’t think I could deal with that and not throw up. Thankfully none of them seem to care that I’m not taking care of their needs.

The reporter from Rock America magazine is already asking them questions. Skinny with thick glasses and a nasal voice that grated down my spine with each word he that came out of his twisted mouth, I wonder how this guy became such a talked about journalist in the rock community. Probably had a daddy that was a big deal. I wasn’t sure and could have cared less. The man wants to know what everyone else who is a fan of Demon’s Wings wants to know. How did they meet? What is the significance of the band’s name? What are their plans for the summer? When is there going to be a new album?

Like they have always done they don’t answer the man’s first two questions—no one knows where they came from or what their lives were like before they got famous; mostly as a form of protecting me because of my mother’s unpleasant lifestyle even if their own childhood hadn’t been so happy. But they go into detail about the summer and the new material that Nik has been working on for their next album. An hour later the guy stands to leave. After shaking everyone’s hand he turns to me. “So how do you like working for Demon’s Wings?”

“Emmie isn’t the hired help.” Jesse informs the guy, which we all know that he already knew. “Your interview is over.” The warning is plain and clear in the drummer’s voice and the reporter makes his escape. Jesse can be a hot head, easy to anger at times and quick to throw a punch. I have had to bail his ass out of jail a few times for fighting.

I wait a few moments to make sure that the guy is gone before I turn to face them. “I want to say I’m sorry for being a bitch yesterday and this morning.” I tell them, remorsefully. I don’t often act like a bitch to my guys. Honestly I can be queen bitch when I have to be, but not to them.

“Sit down, Em.” Jesse commands me. When I just stand there, he grasps my hand and pulls me down on the sofa between him and Nik. “We need to talk.”

I bite my lip, scared that they are going to make me go to the doctor. Or yell at me. Of the two I think I would rather they yell, but either one would make me cry. Nik wraps his arm around my shoulder, his fingers playing with the ends of my still damp hair. It’s soothing and just being this close to him makes me feel safe and loved. “Emmie, we can see that you are getting burnt out. It’s okay. We all are. That’s why we are going to take the summer off.”

“I already knew that you planned on taking the summer off.” I rolled my eyes at him. “Rich called me last night.” I tell him when he seems confused. “We are touring with Axton and OtherWorld starting in September.”

“Fucking Rich.” Jesse grumbled. “We wanted to surprise you.”

“Anyway…We were thinking of renting a house somewhere. But we thought that you would like to pick where.” Nik smiled down at me, that smile that always makes my heart ache for things I know I can never have. “Anywhere in the world that you want, Em. Pick a place, find us a house and that’s where we will spend our summer.”

My chin trembled. I was relieved that they weren’t yelling, that Drake hadn’t ratted me out to the others and they weren’t all insisting I see a doctor. So why was I suddenly sobbing?

Chapter 4

One more concert and then it was back on the road.

Do you know how hard it is to hide throwing up when you are on a tour bus? It’s near impossible. But somehow I do it. For the next three weeks I keep it from them. With the wakeup calls I get every morning where I have to rush to the onboard bathroom, I have never been so happy that the guys could sleep so soundly in my life.

After retching every morning I’m usually able to make it through the rest of the day without a repeat performance. Still my stomach rolls all day long and I’m losing weight because I can’t force myself to eat. That is something that they all pick up on, even Drake in his almost constant drunken state. They start watching me closer and I know that they are about to gang up on me.

And really I’m more worried about finding out what is wrong with me than an actually trip to the doctor right now. But I’m putting it off as long as possible.

I find us a house online. It’s perfect. Private beach, no one for miles that could possible bother us. And if the guys get restless they only have to drive forty-five minutes to find a club or bar. The price for the house for the entire summer makes my stomach clench. Even after all these years and the life style we lead I feel sick having to spend so much money. But it wouldn’t even put a tiny dent in all of our wallets now.

Tags: Terri Anne Browning The Rocker
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