Changing the Key: A Detrimental Rock Star Romance (Book 1) Read online

  Eli pushed a cart ahead of us, adding a few cleaning supplies. Jaxon dropped his arm to take my hand as Eli steered towards the produce section.

  “What’s with the look?” Jaxon asked.

  “What look?” I felt the dopey grin on my face but couldn’t stop it.

  “You look like a kid in a candy store,” he laughed.

  “You will probably think I’m a dork, but I love the produce department.” Of course, his thumb rubbing circles on my palm, added to my overall sense of giddiness. He was so openly affectionate and at ease, making it comfortable to be with him in a way I had never experienced before.

  “Seriously?” he asked, pulling me against his chest. He leaned close to whisper in my ear. “Bananas excite you?”

  A laugh burst from my lips. “Yes, but not like that, you perv. I didn’t have a lot of money growing up, and produce was expensive. Most kids wanted candy. I wanted fruit.”

  Eli fist-bumped me. “I lived on rice and beans. My father was a migrant worker and would bring home crates of produce that were either leftover or too damaged to sell. Weeks of eating apples or sweet potatoes made me crave the rice and beans again.”

  “I would have been in heaven. I used to hide the apples my friends didn’t eat at lunch into my jacket, then stash them in my backpack to take home.”

  Jaxon’s hand squeezed mine and his brow creased as he listened to our conversation. Then he added a huge bag of apples to our cart.

  “I used to sneak the extra peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”

  “Ugh,” I groaned. “That was my version of rice and beans.”

  Eli chuckled. “Too bad we didn’t know each other when we were kids. We could have traded.” He continued to wind through the area, adding carrot sticks and grapes to the cart. “Every now and then, when my father would have some extra money or it was a special occasion, he would let me pick out un gustico, a little treat. I usually chose pizza.” He hummed, lost in the memory. “What was your little treat?”

  I thought back to my childhood and the fact that there were no little treats for me at home. However, I’d once found five dollars on the ground and felt like I’d hit the lottery. I made sure to hide it until my friend and I could walk to the grocery store together. All she wanted was a candy bar, while I’d gone straight for the fruit.

  “Fresh raspberries,” I said, remembering my first taste of them as I sat under a tree at the park that day.

  Jaxon pulled me tight for a hug and didn’t seem to want to let go.

  “I need to go get a few things,” I said, leaning back to look at him. “Meet me up at the registers?”

  “Sure. What do you need?”

  “Um, bras and panties,” I admitted. Some things were never meant to be purchased at a thrift store.

  He hummed, low and rumbly, wiggling his eyebrows. “Need any help?”

  I laughed again, liking this playful side to him. “I think I can manage.”

  “Let me know if you change your mind.”

  With Woodchuck once again behind the wheel, we all huddled into the front lounge for movie night. Everyone claimed their spots as Pops loaded the latest Marvel movie, which played on both TVs simultaneously so everyone had a good view. Jaxon covered my legs with a throw blanket before he settled onto a cushion on the floor in front of me. Popcorn, drinks, and candy were passed around while the opening credits rolled.

  I only gave the movie half of my attention. With Jaxon’s head resting against my knee and his hand slowly stroking my calf under the blanket, it was easy to get distracted. In return, I ran my fingers through his hair, gently massaging his scalp. He didn’t seem at all self-conscious in front of the others, so I tried not to let myself overthink it. Like I’d done that morning.

  Waking up as Jaxon was sneaking back to his bunk, I had wrongfully gotten the impression that he regretted sleeping with me. Not that there had been anything inappropriate, no matter how much I’d wished otherwise. Still, it had felt like a rejection of sorts.

  Working through my emotions, I’d spent the morning hiding out with Pops. As he’d gone over more of my job expectations, I’d resolved to make the best of the situation. This morning’s events reminded me of my place there, and it would be greedy to ask for more than I had been given. Jaxon was just being friendly. No matter how lonely I was or how much my body reacted to him, I would not allow myself to hope for anything beyond that. Besides, he had dozens of confident, sexy women throwing themselves at him on any given day. There was no way I could even begin to compete with them.

  With newfound determination, I’d forged ahead. Pops explained my daily responsibilities and some of what would be expected of me at each venue. Once that was done, I took advantage of the time to log into my online classes and try to get ahead of the week’s assignments since I had no way of knowing what the days ahead would bring.

  The thrift shop that had come into view as the bus pulled into the shopping center had been a stroke of good luck. The signs in the windows proclaiming a huge blowout sale on clothing quickly upgraded Karma to BFF status. Megan would understand.

  Set on expanding my wardrobe, the last thing I had expected was Jaxon’s lunch invitation. Equally embarrassed by the idea of telling him I couldn’t afford it and that I needed to visit the thrift shop, I’d let him believe I wasn’t interested. Plus, it was intended to help me keep a little distance between us.

  Then he’d obliterated all of those plans.

  Knowing that he genuinely wanted me had been impossible to ignore. I’d tried to resist, though all of my arguments were half-hearted at best. And for every reason I gave to not get involved with him, he responded with the perfect rebuttal. There was no explaining it, so I didn’t try. Being with him just felt right in a way that nothing had before.

  Pulling away from me, and bringing my mind back to the movie, Jaxon took my hand to kiss it. “Be right back.”

  Closing the door to the bunk area behind him, he missed several scenes of the movie before returning. Resuming his seat, he kissed my hand again, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

  As the movie ended, everyone took turns in the bathroom, showering and getting ready for bed. The tour was officially back on track tomorrow with their first show in Bangor, Maine. Excitement filled me as I thought about it all: the northeast landscape, the behind-the-scenes action, and the full headlining performance.

  Last to shower, I found all of the bunk curtains closed except for Jaxon’s. He was stretched out, two pillows propped behind his head, engrossed in the screen of an iPad. His bunk light was off, only the glow of the screen lighting his face. Already shivering despite my new pajamas, I turned to my bunk and found a blanket and extra pillow waiting for me.

  “Did you do this?” I whispered, my defenses rising at the idea of him buying things for me.

  I’d gotten the distinct impression that the extra food at lunch had not been an accident either. I hated feeling indebted to anyone and, in my experience, gifts came with a catch.

  “I may have stocked the bus with some extra supplies.”

  “It’s pink.”

  “You don’t like pink?”

  “I love pink. But you bought a pink blanket for Detrimental’s tour bus?” I argued, aware that I had been outmaneuvered but also secretly flattered that he had made the effort. For me. It was even sweeter knowing that he did it before I had agreed to anything beyond friendship.

  “Sure, why not? I can put it in the cabinet if you don’t want to use it. I just figured it would keep you from turning into a popsicle.” He went back to his iPad, seemingly unfazed.

  Accepting the thoughtful gesture for what it was, I got into my bunk and spread the blanket out. It was gloriously soft and fuzzy. And so very pink. Growing up, I’d been given mostly hand-me-downs. Whether it was clothes or bedding, I had rarely gotten anything that was pretty or girly. Now it always felt like an indulgence.

  Snuggling under the fuzzy warmth, I released a contented sigh
. Thanks to the man across from me and from facing the reasons behind my fears, my bunk seemed much more welcoming tonight. I bravely flipped off the light switch, prepared for the darkness. Instead, the night sky lit up above me, making my breath catch. Reaching up, I felt dozens of little glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to the wall above me. In that instant, I knew that he was going to completely ruin me. And I didn’t have the will to try to stop it.

  The only remaining light was from the small aisle lights along the floor. I could barely make out the features of Jaxon’s face, but he was watching me.

  “Thank you,” I called quietly and blew him a kiss.

  He blew one back. “Sweet dreams, Angel.”

  The next four days passed in a hectic blur of nonstop madness. Callie was a great teacher, ever patient with me as I continued to tackle a variety of tasks. I posted the dailies, sorted through the band’s never-ending email, and accompanied Jaxon on his publicity trips. I also helped at the meet-and-greets and in organizing the band’s dressing rooms. With so much to be done, it was a wonder Callie had managed everything on top of her other duties.

  Saturday afternoon, I sat in the local laundromat relaxing, literally watching clothes dry. I finally had time to call Megan and confess all of the details I’d withheld while I was in Daytona. She was understandably upset, but we both knew there wasn’t anything she could have done except worry. Since things had worked out, all was forgiven.

  “I still can’t believe you’re on tour with Detrimental!”

  “It’s not quite as glamorous as you would think, but it’s interesting.”

  “Okay, give me a day in the life of a rock star,” she urged.

  “An early breakfast in the catering tent is followed by hours of local radio interviews, promotional appearances, and video conferences. After that, we have a late lunch and a little downtime. That’s when I do my schoolwork. Then we’re off to soundcheck, meet-and-greet, dinner, pre-show prep, and backstage routines before the nightly performance. Then it’s back to the green room to mingle with the local VIPs. Once that’s over, we get back on the bus to shower, wind down, and sleep so we can repeat it all the next day.”

  “Sounds busy. What’s it like backstage? All sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll?”

  “The meet-and-greets can get a little crazy,” I said, remembering the lines of fans, mostly women, who’d all wanted to be up close and personal with the band.

  Some of them had tried to get a little too personal for my liking. I’d heard countless offers and innuendos, but Jaxon and the guys were pros at keeping things at an appropriate level while making them happy. After the shows, the backstage rooms were filled with activity and various people who had gotten passes. Some were groupies while others were locally well-known people, there to rub elbows with the band. After mingling, drinking, and flirting, the guys made their way back to the bus at their own pace. Jaxon usually came straight back with me while the others took their time. I had no idea how they spent that time, and I was fine with that.

  As far as drugs, the smell of weed had been pretty common, but I hadn’t seen any of the guys smoking, so I couldn’t say for sure. A drink or two on the bus after the show hadn’t been uncommon, but that had been the extent of their partying.

  “The guys have a good time, but it’s been pretty tame compared to the reputations of other bands,” I offered.

  “How are they treating you? Is Jaxon as big of an asshole as he seems?”

  “WHAT? No, he’s not an asshole at all.” Well, other than our initial meeting, but that was just a misunderstanding. “It’s an image his publicist created. He’s actually pretty amazing.”

  “Uh oh,” Megan said, concern lacing her voice. “You like him.”

  I could have denied it, but it was always good to talk things over with Megan. “Yes, I like him. As crazy as it sounds, he likes me too. We’re sort of dating. And I already know it can’t lead anywhere because I go home in five weeks. Honestly, it’s kind of perfect.”

  “Of course he likes you. You’re awesome, and if he doesn’t recognize that then he doesn’t deserve you at all. But what makes a dead-end relationship perfect?”

  “I always wonder when the guy is going to leave. This way, I already know when it will end, so I can relax and enjoy the time we have.”

  “Hmmm.” Megan quietly processed that. “It’s just like going to a fortune teller and finding out when you’re going to die. Once you know, you can be as crazy as you want because you don’t have to worry about the consequences.”

  “Wow. Kind of a morbid comparison, but sure.”

  “Interesting. Where are you now?”

  “Providence, Rhode Island. We have the next two days off, so everyone is checking into the hotel before the show. I can’t wait to stretch out on a big bed after taking a long, hot bath.”

  “And? Any plans with Mr. Rock Star?”

  “Yes. I need to finish a school assignment in the morning, but then we’re spending the day together. He won’t tell me what we’re doing. He wants to surprise me.”

  Over breakfast yesterday morning, he had officially asked me out on a date, though he had been spending as much time with me as possible. Which wasn’t much considering his demanding schedule. It made his efforts even more meaningful.

  Holding my hand in the car and constant little touches had become expected, but he hadn’t taken things further. Sure, he affectionately kissed my forehead, hands, and cheeks throughout the day. It was sweet, yet incredibly sexy. And equally frustrating. I was hopeful that our date would change that. The anticipation was killing me.

  I was looking forward to our date more than I would admit to Megan. My whole life, I had been on my own, but the idea of a few days to myself seemed depressing. Even thinking about sleeping in my own room, where I couldn’t just look over and see Jaxon whenever I wanted to, made me lonely.

  “Well, have fun. And I want all the details,” she begged.

  I agreed to call her again soon, with no promises of sharing any dirty details.

  After I hung up, I thought back over the past few days of learning the routines and even coming to anticipate Jaxon’s moods and needs. A little grumbly in the morning, a cinnamon roll or pastry usually sweetened him up for the ride to the local radio station. He still hated the publicity shit. Yes, he had me calling it that now too. And, honestly, I could see why. His relationship with the media was uncomfortable and forced, like estranged exes attending a family Thanksgiving together for the sake of the kids. Neither trusted the other.

  Trying to figure out the history behind everything and fill in a few blanks, I had done some online research. What had shocked me the most was the change between the first album and the second. Everything was darker. The songs, as well as his overall image, had changed drastically. Even the promotional photos were different. With the first album, they were all together, smiling and loving life. For the second album, the guys were pushed into the background while a brooding Jaxon remained in the forefront.

  I didn’t understand any of the reasoning behind Jaxon being singled out for promotional appearances or why he was made to keep up some bad boy image. It wasn’t him at all. Other than using her connections to create a lot of media attention, nothing I had learned about good publicity lined up with what Bianca was doing. Though it wasn’t my place to say anything, it was getting harder to hold back my opinion when I saw how it was affecting Jaxon.

  Everything else about my first week had been amazing. Without any pressure or expectations, Jaxon and I had spent little pockets of time getting to know each other better. We ate all of our meals together, the novelty of his company competing with that of having readily available food whenever I wanted. Both were pretty freaking awesome.

  The days had been hectic but enjoyable. I never tired of Jaxon’s company, not that we had a lot of time alone anyway. One highlight of each day was the ritual right as he went on stage each night. Since Daytona, we had replicated our exchange, including the hug
for luck, which had grown longer and more intense.

  As wonderful as all of that was, I looked forward to bedtime the most. We cuddled together on the sofa, watching old reruns so he could wind down. Then he hugged me goodnight and kissed my cheek before we climbed into our opposing bunks. Sleeping with our curtains open just enough to see each other, we maintained that small connection. That meant Jaxon’s face was the last thing I saw before I closed my eyes.

  There was no denying the feelings he was stirring in me. The most powerful one was that of belonging. It was scary and overwhelming, and I was afraid to let it in. Hope wasn’t something I could afford, especially knowing that our time together would end with us going our separate ways. So, as it had been ingrained in me to do, I ignored the longing for more and focused on what I had while it lasted.

  Chapter 11

  Jaxon

  Bouncing outside Anna’s door, I was like a kid on Christmas morning. Checking my watch for the third time, I saw that I was still a few minutes early, but it had been almost twelve hours since I’d seen her or touched her. Though not much in the grand scheme of things, I didn’t like it. All week long, she’d been there; breakfast, lunch, dinner, and most of the time in between. And it had taken all of my willpower not to pull her into the nearest dressing room and kiss her senseless. But it had never felt right. There were always too many people around and too many distractions. Even with our limited time, I wanted our first kiss to be special somehow and knew that it would be worth it. She was worth it.

  Just being with her was different in a way that was hard to explain. I was excited to be with her, but it also felt completely natural. We had agreed to a casual fling, yet I was quickly becoming infatuated. It was apparent in so many little ways.

  Not a morning person, I usually just had coffee on my way to whatever publicity shit was on my schedule. This week, I’d found myself getting up early to make sure I could have breakfast with Anna. Most nights on tour, I didn’t sleep well, too amped up from the show and already gearing up for the following day’s agenda. This week, I’d slept soundly. Normally, I welcomed the silence and solitude of a hotel room after several days on a crowded bus, but last night, I’d been restless. Even the plush, king-sized bed in my room hadn’t been enough to help me sleep. Something had been missing. Not something, someone. Damn it, I’d missed her.