Bad Boy Rock Star (9 page)

I opened the car door and climbed out.

"Umm, Hannah?"

I noticed he called me by name instead of
"babes". I don’t know why that made me grin. I ducked my head because I didn't want him to know that made me happy. Instead of answering, he stared at his hands resting on the steering wheel. I couldn't read the expression on his face and waited for some snarky remark.

"Thanks.
For organising the gig."

He
reached across and shut the door and drove off quickly, leaving me to wonder why I couldn't stop grinning and why my heart was being so stupid.

So I turned up at the filming location with a heap of clothes I’d begged and borrowed from some very funky designers. All I'd had to say was that we were filming a clip and people happily loaned me stuff. I'd not realised it would be so easy.

The warehouse buzzed with activity.
I’d been expecting a couple of Angie’s friends with some borrowed camera – real low-grade stuff, but this was like walking onto a Hollywood set. I almost swooned looking around the place. Then I nearly got knocked down by a guy carrying a bunch of equipment.

"Sorry, Sorry," he called as he rushed off.

"Where do I –"

He disappeared before I could ask him where to leave the clothes.
I'd slung the bags over my shoulder and they were weighing me down. I couldn't see anywhere to set them up, although Angie had told me she'd have an area organised for wardrobe.

There seemed to be about twenty or more people
buzzing around. Across the room, a couple of girls set up a bunch of backdrops, while some guys played around with a big metal box of technical-looking equipment. A couple of other guys laid tracks down on the floor.

In the middle of the filming area stood a huge prop that looked like an old pirate ship with cannons and skull and crossbones flags and rope ladders.
It even had a network of sails that looked all piratey and authentic.

"
Hey you, get up here and help me fix these gels!"

I looked up and saw a dude hanging off some scaffolding.
And he wanted me to help him with his gels? Why did he need his nails done? That just seemed blatantly stupid. Maybe he was messing with me. I figured it was best to ignore him.

"
Hey, I asked you to help me. Get your arse up here."

I looked around the warehouse to see who he was actually talking to but there was nobody else nearby.

"Yeah, you. What? Are you stupid or something?"

This guy obviously had a death wish.
Could he not see that I wore an outfit not made for clambering? High heels and a skin-tight pencil skirt pretty much ruled out climbing up scaffolding.

"
God, what are you waiting for? Make yourself useful."

"
Oi, Peter. Stop giving orders to Hannah. She’s the band manager not your lackey. Hannah, you have the wardrobe? Awesome sauce. Is it all awesome and pirate? The guys are going to look freaken cool in this clip if it kills me. But what if they get super huge and I can’t even get tickets to see them play? That’d suck. You’ll get me tickets, won’t you Hannah? Promise me, no matter, you’ll get me tickets."

She
led me over to some racks in the corner so we could hang the clothes.

"
Oh, Jack has to wear this frock coat. Imagine how his broad shoulders will look in it. And he has to wear the ruffly shirt with it with that lace. With his leather pants. Oh my god, I’m getting wet just thinking about it."

"
Angie!"

"
Well, it’s true. Don’t tell me you aren’t?"

"
I’ve told you before –"

"
Yeah, yeah. You can say it all you want but I can’t believe any woman would NOT be interested in Jack Colt." She grabbed my wrist and held it between her thumb and finger. "You have a pulse, ergo you must be interested. That’s just science."

I shrugged.
There was no talking sense to her. But I loved her enthusiasm for the costumes. Before this filming had finished, that band would be only happy to see the back of me as manager.

"
That one would be perfect on Eric. Emphasis his cute shyness."

I nodded.
I’d picked out the drawstring shirt with Eric in mind.

"
And Spud can wear anything, there’s no hope for him anyway. We can just put him in the back with dim lighting. The band isn’t here yet and I've been running around gangbusters all morning. Come out and have a fag with me until we start."

"I hope they turn up. I have zero faith in Jack Colt."

"You have an agreement with him, right. We worked our arses off getting him that gig." She waved to a guy on the scaffolding as we walked through the warehouse. "They should appreciate what we did for them. They should buy us dinner at a romantic restaurant and flowers and all that kind of thing and Jack Colt should get down on his knees and thank us."

"Not really. It was Frank."

"Yeah, but those bloody kids rolled our tree frog outfits when we took off after jerk face and that was a whole shit fight."

We’d completely forgotten about the bag with our costumes and the posters until later and, when we’d gone back to get them,
they'd been stolen. Angie and I had searched the streets but nothing had turned up.

"I'd have
made sure they were stolen long ago if I'd thought of it."

She laughed.

We stepped out onto the street and she huddled in a doorway to light her cigarette.

"You are looking smoking hot today. Any particular reason? Huh? Huh?" She nudged me and grinned.

I thought so too but hadn't wanted to say it. Angie wore a pair of short shorts with striped tights and she'd added blue to the green in her hair. She looked pretty hot herself. In a grungy kind of way.

"No reason at all."

Angie thought too much about flirting with the band and not enough about making money from them but still, I didn’t know what I’d do without her.

We went back inside and the guys had arrived. Jack Colt stood to one side while three of the girls talked to him and flicked their hair.
For a moment, my stomach clenched tight. Bimbos.

Angie clapped her hands loudly, getting their attention.

"Back to work, girls. No time for standing around chatting. You guys, get to makeup."

"Makeup? No way."
Jack glared at us.

"It's part of the process. You need to look good on film and those lights will show up every imperfection."

"I don't think he has any imperfections," one of the girls said.

Angie shot her a look to silence her.

"It's not optional," she said and pushed them towards the makeup area.

I didn't really have much to do
, so I found a spot out of the way and settled down to watch.

A little while later
, Jack Colt returned. I don't know what that makeup artist had done but he looked hot. Super hot. As he walked toward me, my legs turned to jelly. That was stupid. He was still the same person but I'd never noticed how sculptured his cheekbones were and the dazzling intensity of his eyes was even brighter with all that eyeliner.

I called him over so we could get started on the costumes.

"You want me to wear what?"

I'd held up the velvet coat jacket. It was the perfect blend of pirate and on
-trend. The designer had been an absolute doll and I thought the clothes were perfect for the look we wanted.

"I'm the manager. You wear it."

"I said I'd do the video, I didn't say I'd dress up like an idiot." Those eyes flashed at me and for an instant, I wanted to back down and agree to anything he said, just so I could get to see his smile again.

Then I realised that would be letting him win. Why couldn't he do as I asked without it becoming a thing?
Maybe I needed to push him more, make him realise that life would be hell with me in charge.

"It's part of the image."

"I have no image."

"You didn't. You do now."

I held out the jacket, waiting for him to take it. Instead he walked away.

Screw that. I was sick of him and the way he walked away or brushed off everything I said.

I ran after him and blocked his way, crossing my arms and staring him down.

"Is this how you treat everything you don't agree with in life? Walking off
and not even discussing it? Maybe that's a big part of your problem."

He tried to brush me aside.

"No. Let's talk about this. What do you want? Tell me, instead of just ignoring everything I say."

"I didn't think you cared about what I want. You turn up and tell us you
’re in charge now. In charge of our band. Now you want us to have an image. What makes you think we want any of this?"

 
"Well, what do you want? You don't talk to me. You ignore me when I try to discuss the band, so how do I take your wishes into account when I have no bloody idea what they are?"

I stood with my hands on my hips waiting for him to respond.
But he said nothing; he just stared at me like I was some kind of freak. I trembled a little inside but I had no intention of letting him see that.

"Look
, Jack, it's a video clip. You just need to act out a part. We've got this whole team of people here waiting for you get to work. You don't want to waste their time, do you? They are all here working for free so that we can get this done and you are acting like some spoilt little prima donna. And you say I'm a princess!"

He didn't answer but he strode back into the warehouse and grabbed the clothes off the rack.
I pointed to the change room Angie had rigged up with a sheet but he ignored me and pulled his t-shirt off.

The room went quiet as every head turned toward him.
I had figured he had a good body, he didn’t try to disguise with those tight t-shirts he wore, but seeing him half-naked was something else altogether. The muscles down his back rippled as he raised his arms to put the shirt on and the light reflected off his skin, giving it a magical sheen.

I couldn’t look away
, even though I wanted to ignore what his naked back did to my insides. All the air had been sucked out of the room and everything disappeared except those hard muscles. My fingers twitched to reach out and touch him, to trace the line of his hard shoulders down to that delicious curve of his arm and around his shoulder blade. I wanted to flick my tongue into that tasty indentation.

Then he unzipped his jeans.

I willed myself to look away, to remember what a jerk he’d been, but his thumbs had hooked around the belt loops and he slowly lowered his jeans, exposing the white fabric of his jocks beneath.

He bent over slightly and my vision was filled with that perfect cu
rve of butt. The hollow where the curve started, that space, it belonged to a woman’s hands. Holding him as he rose above her in that moment just before he thrust inside.

"
Hannah, close your mouth. You’re drooling." Angie slapped me the arm. "I know exactly what you are thinking."

I shook myself about to deny it but I could feel the flush in my face and the heat rising through my body.
I didn’t want to meet her eyes because I knew she’d see something primal there. A part of me I didn’t even know existed.

"Let's get started then."
Angie tried to sound all business but she turned to me and motioned fanning herself.

Jack Colt
, now fully dressed, strutted over to the set in a way that showed he’d been fully aware of every person watching him. Angie cued up the music for them to lip sync to and the filming started.

I tried to clear my mind but the images blurred together.
Those powerful muscles with the sound of his voice
that
night and the feel of his lips on mine.

"Cut," Angie called.
"Spud, can’t you even lip sync to your own song?"

"What?
I'm supposed to be lip syncing?"

Angie had put him in a black and white striped
t-shirt with a scarf around his head and an eye patch. It kind of worked.

"You are out of time.
Can you just maybe hoist the mainsail or something?"

"How do I do that?
What's the mainsail?"

"Buggered if I know but look like you are doing sailor
-type things, okay?"

"Okay."

He shrugged and looked confused, shooting a look at Jack.
Jack nodded slightly as if to say it was okay. Spud was so his bitch.

"Let's go from the top."

Angie cued up the music again. The song we'd decided to go with,
In Your Pretty Party Dress
, was one of my favourites on the CD Eric had given me. I'd kept singing the chorus all the time. That's what you want in a song. Something catchy.

"Cut."

"Again. I'm trying to look sailory."

"Not you this time, Spud.
Jack, can you try to look a bit more… well sexy?"

Angie actually said that?
The same Angie who spent half her life talking about how sexy Jack was? The same Angie who’d just been drooling over his butt?

He winked
at her.

"I can't look sexy on cue, babe."

Angie pouted. "Sure you can, babe. Just think sexy thoughts. Think of banging some hot chick. Think about it real hard."