Dangerous Rock (Dangerous Noise 3)

The guy continues staring at my boobs.

Joel glares.

The bouncer offers an apologetic shrug. He motions to the door behind him. "Head in. Everyone is ready for you."

We do. But Joel isn't walking with his usual bouncy steps. He's clearly irritated. Is he jealous?

I study his expression. There's something protective about his stance, but there's this frustration in his eyes.

It's not jealousy.

It's more that he doesn't like people thinking he treats women like interchangeable sex toys.

Maybe.

I'm not sure.

I should ask.

That's the key to marriage, communication. But when I open my mouth, words refuse to fall.

I don't want to talk about this.

I don't want to talk right now.

I want to run away from everything and everyone and find some magic clarity.

That's not going to happen. I might as well enjoy another few days as a rock and roll wife.

Sound check at a cool, nearly empty club is a good start.

This place looks big enough to fit a few hundred. Right now, it's about a dozen.

Roadies are setting up gear on stage. Bartenders and servers are mulling around by the bar. There are hanger-ons there too.

A tall guy with dark hair nods and moves towards us. Oh, that's Ethan Strong. The guitarist. I remind myself of the gossip—he was mowing through lingerie models until he got back together with his ex-girlfriend. There aren't many pictures of them together, but the ones I saw stood out. She's a strawberry blond with a noticeable and incredibly hot goth style.

She's not here. At least, not somewhere I can see her.

Ethan extends his hand. "I'm Ethan Strong. You must be Bella."

I shake his hand. "Bella Chase, yeah." Or did I take Joel's last name? I don't remember seeing any paperwork.

Joel nods. "You kept your name."

My cheeks flush. How did he know exactly what I was thinking?

Ethan is mostly hiding his what the hell expression, but he isn't quite there. I don't think it's anything about me. I think it's more that he can't believe Joel is showing up with a wife.

I clear my throat. "It's nice to meet another friend of Joel's."

He nods. "Yeah, Mal had a lot to say about your jam session. Well, a lot for him. My brother isn't exactly talkative." He turns to me. "He said Joel tried to teach you to play the bass."

"Only for a few minutes," I say.

"You want to learn a guitar riff?" he offers.

"No thank you," I say.