The Rocker Who Cherishes Me (The Rocker 8)

When the cab pulled to a stop in front of one of New York City’s most exclusive clubs, I didn’t blink. The fact that there was a line to get into the club that wrapped all the way around the block didn’t surprise me either. What bothered me was that they were all lined up, despite the sign that was on the door that said that the club was closed for a private party tonight. Obviously everyone knew who was inside the club and were hoping for a photo-op…

Or, from the looks of the outfits of some of the girls standing outside the front doors where three large bouncers were keeping everyone back behind the velvet ropes, they were there in the hopes of a hookup. As I stepped out of the back of the cab after Natalie, I was shocked to see that some of them had signs that said “I Can Give You A Baby Shane! Drop The Wife And Come Be With A REAL Woman!”

I actually felt sick after reading that trash. I wasn’t sure how the news that Harper couldn’t have a baby had gotten out, but it had hit the tabloids a few weeks ago following a doctor’s visit Shane and Harper had had with a specialist in fertility in Germany. I knew exactly when Natalie got a look at the sign because she approached the burly bouncers with her body nearly shaking with outrage.

“You get those bitches out of here before my brother sees them and commits murder,” she commanded. “If anyone shows up with anything—ANYTHING—like that you get them a cab and send them to the other side of the city. Understand?”

The middle bouncer simply nodded while the one on the right moved forward to follow her orders. I rolled my eyes when the three chicks that had been holding the signs started protesting as they were led away. I wasn’t a violent person, but I would have taken pleasure in getting to slap those three idiots a few times. Harper was a sweet girl and the fact that she couldn’t have a baby was killing her.

After throwing out a few more commands, Natalie opened the door to the club and I followed her inside. “Motherfucking bitches,” she kept muttering under her breath.

I bit my lip. “Do you think that anyone else saw that?”

“I know that Emmie didn’t, because they were still standing there. And I know that Shane hadn’t, because they were still breathing.” Natalie handed her purse over to the coat check girl then offered the girl mine. “So either they aren’t here yet, or those idiots haven’t been there very long.”

I glanced at the watch on my wrist and figured that it was the latter considering that we were running late for dinner by more than an hour. It was my fault that we were late. I’d wanted to do a few things before I had to face everyone—well, someone. A haircut wasn’t something that was going to change me drastically because I simply refused to chop off my hair like Natalie had done. Although I was glad I had been able to talk her out of actually shaving her head, but the haircut she had decided on was not far off. She was rocking the pixie cut that some French guy with a lot of attitude had given her.

The new hairstyle looked cute on her, but I was mourning her hair for her.

I’d figured if she was going to change something about herself so that she could feel like she was putting the past behind her and moving forward with her life, then I needed to do something dramatic like that too. Getting my nose pierced was about as rebel as I was going though, because my nose was sore as hell right now. Still, I thought the stud in my nose was hot and worth the nose bleed I’d had for a few minutes afterwards.

The new piercing—fine, my only piercing other than my ears—along with my new outfit gave me a new confidence that I was planning on rocking tonight.

As we turned toward the bar where music was playing but at a moderate level compared to what it would have been if the place had been open to the public tonight, Natalie ran her fingers over her hair again. At least she had donated her hair to Locks of Love once I’d explained to her what it was, which made me feel a little less sad since her hair was going to a good cause. I’d never wanted a wig when I’d lost all my hair after chemo, but I was sure there were some little girls out there that would be happy to have one made out of Natalie Stevenson’s glorious hair.

“How do I look?” Nat asked me nervously.

I let my eyes rove over her from head to toe. The haircut made her blue-gray eyes pop out more and actually highlighted her soft, feminine features. The new silver dress she had bought after trying on the entire store hugged her slight curves. The killer heels that we had shopped for longer than the actual dress, made her legs look longer. “You’ll make him sweat, sweetie.”

Her eyes darkened for a moment before she smiled. “Thanks. And I know that Wroth will lose his mind when he gets a look at you in that outfit.”

I glanced down at my knee-high stiletto boots over black leggings that I was wearing under the short sleeved, yellow sweater dress that both hugged and hid my very, very curvy body. I wasn’t tiny by anyone’s standards, which I knew for a fact. But the added weight that I couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard I tried because of my stupid thyroid didn’t bother me all that much—with a few exceptions. I preferred this body to the skeleton I’d been after my battle with cancer.

“Okay, let’s get this over with,” Natalie grumbled, turning and leading the way toward the distant sound of talking, laughter and music.

As we entered the bar, I took most of the room in all at once. The bar top was loaded down with a buffet of foods: prime rib, French fries, green beans, mac and cheese, salad, grilled chicken breasts, and even an assortment of desserts. The delicious smells caused my stomach to growl and I realized that with all the running around today that Natalie had to do, followed by our little makeovers, we hadn’t had time to stop and have lunch.

My gaze shifted from the food to the rest of the room in the blink of an eye and I saw four different bands scattered around the room along with an array of children that ranged from the ages of sixteen to less than a year old. Lucy Thornton was sitting at a table in the back of the room with Harris Cutter, glasses of soda in their hands as they sat talking and laughing. Axton was standing with Nik Armstrong and two members of Alchemy, I couldn’t remember either men’s names. Drake Stevenson was sitting at a table with Liam and Linc while he held his sleeping daughter against his chest.

Two little boys that shouldn’t have been as big as they were since they had been preemies toddled back and forward under the feet of their parents and loving family members. My heart melted at the sight of Luca and Lyric Thornton getting into mischief. Those two little monsters were the image of their father and left me aching for one of my own. Layla was keeping a keen eye on them, but the room appeared to have been baby proofed for tonight.