His Rock & Roll Girl (Emerald City #2)

This book is a work of fiction.

While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2015 by Allyson Lindt

All Rights Reserved

Editor: Sotia Lazu

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

Manufactured in the United States of America

Acelette Press

For Quinn Blaydes, pushing his band Lionheart up the music charts and on a never-ending string of tour stops is the best decision he ever made. Too bad it started with the biggest mistake of his life.

Roz let Quinn walk away to enjoy his fame, rather than become just another groupie hoping the sexy rocker would let her on the bus at the end of the night. When he shows up in her video production studio three years after leaving her behind, she’s happy to prove to him she’s moved on, and he’s missed out. She just has to focus on why she let him leave, instead of remembering how good they were together.

With a second chance on the line, Quinn will have to admit fame and all the adoring fans in the world aren’t nearly so great if he can’t tell the woman he loves how he feels.

His Pretend Girl by Sofia Grey

His Reboot Girl by Sofia Grey

His Conspiracy Girl by Allyson Lindt

For my eternal dragon

Was this night ever going to end? Then again, once it did, it would be tomorrow. Roz’s gaze drifted to the calendar, pinned to the edge of her glasses-screen so she only saw it when she turned her head. Her newest prospective client’s name glared back at her, taunting. When he’d made the appointment, several months back, she’d told herself it gave her plenty of time to work past any anxiety about seeing him again.

Yeah, that hadn’t happened.

Maybe she could make tonight last forever, and then she wouldn’t have to deal with tomorrow. She dropped her face into her hands and rubbed, trying and failing to chase away the exhaustion. She needed to focus on work. Payroll wouldn’t approve itself. Which kind of sucked. With all the technology out there, she was a little surprised—and relieved, if she was being honest—they still hadn’t written an app that read minds.

A chime sounded in her ear. Someone had joined the open chat channel she shared with her friends. “Voice,” she said to the empty air without drawing her attention from her work.

“Hey, girlie.” Ana—one of her best friends, and her ultimate partner in all things that seemed like a good idea
at the time
—greeted her. “Why are you still working?”

Roz tapped the empty air, clicking another couple buttons on her infrared keyboard. “Why would you assume I am?”

“You’re on voice, not text or video. That means you’re not paying full attention, and your keyboard is dedicated to other things.”

“Mhm…” Roz scanned another employee name, and clicked another button. At least this conversation would help take her mind off things. Damn Ana for knowing her so well. “I’m actually working, you know. Not just dragging my feet.”

“Go home,” Ana said in a voice that brokered no argument. “Staying up late is only going to make tomorrow worse.”

Another chime blipped through the line. Dorothy’s, “What’s tomorrow?” broke into the conversation.

“Tuesday.” The moment the sharp word passed her lips, Roz regretted it. “Sorry, I’m not trying to be bitchy. It’s just…deadlines.”

“Ya know, Dorothy”—a teasing twang slid into Ana’s voice—“if you weren’t halfway around the world, too wrapped up in your new guy to talk to us more than once a week, you wouldn’t have to ask.”

“Don’t listen to her.” Roz clicked through a few more links.
Finished.
She paused, waiting for relief to push away her tension. She was done with work. She should feel better, right? No, the dark cloud of anticipation still hung over her head. Speaking of… She pulled up her auto notifications in a new window, replacing the payroll software on her glasses. “She’s just jealous you have a good guy, and she can’t even find a human vibrator.”

“I am not jealous.” Ana’s mock indignation echoed over the chat line. “I just want to know if any of
his
band-mates are… You know.”

Yeah, Roz did. Ana was talking about whether or not any of the guys from the band checking out the studio tomorrow would have synthetic limbs. Poor girl had a hard core fetish for how fast mechanical fingers moved.

“Don’t know, don’t care. Even if everyone was going to be here, and not just him, it’s not like you’d act on it, anyway.” Roz tapped her fingers in the air, making sure to keep her chat link intact while she scanned any auto notifications with her or her company’s name. The last three bands they’d had in-house, someone had leaked that they were going to be there. The bands hadn’t been happy with the crowds waiting at the front door, and she didn’t blame them. She let out a tiny sigh of relief when she didn’t see anything incriminating. At least that would go right.

Ana’s sigh filled the channel. “This is about fantasy, not whether or not I make it real. I just want details; that’s all. There’s no way that bassist is playing like that with organic fingers.”

Without her trying, the names of at least half a dozen classic bassists who were better scrolled through Roz’s thoughts. She owed Quinn that. It had taken her a long time to admit he’d done some good things for her—taught her things she wouldn’t have known on her own, but she could now. Which was why she didn’t understand her own apprehension over tomorrow morning. She kept the list of names to herself. She knew Ana was just talking.

“Hello, fill me in?” Dorothy prompted.

“Lionheart,” Ana offered before Roz could. “Their lead singer is coming to check out the studio.”

Roz knew most girls, and just as many women, squealed at that name. Some of her own staff even had, and they had famous people in studio all the time. Her friends though…they knew her better than that.

“Quinn.” Dorothy managed the word with as much knowledge and understanding as a single syllable could carry.

Roz flinched. It was a good thing she still had them on chat. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry, hon.” Dorothy’s sympathy was nearly tangible. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Forcing her tone to remain casual helped take the edge off Roz’s tension. Almost. “It was three years ago. A stupid college crush. It’s not like I’m still holding a flame.”

She really wasn’t. She’d dated seriously since then, moved on, all of it. Sure, sometimes she missed how well they knew each other’s ins and outs; the way they frequently seemed to be thinking the same thing, even without saying so; and yeah, the way he made her moan. But they’d dated because they liked each other. She was allowed to have fond memories of their time together and still consider herself over him. “I need customers to keep my business running, they need to use my equipment.”

“You should use his equipment. Show him what he gave up. Torture him a little before you cut him loose,” Ana said.

Roz obliterated the part of her that snagged the idea and danced around in her skull with it. “Listen when I say this, unlike the last fifty times I’ve said it. This is business.”

“At least show him how much better off you are without him.” A persuasive edge lined Ana’s suggestion.

“She owns a one-of-a-kind, state-of-the-art video studio she designed from the ground up,” Dorothy said. “That’s pretty good proof that she’s rocking life just fine on her own.”

This wasn’t getting Roz anywhere. A yawn stretched her mouth wide, and her eyes watered. She needed to get home, before she passed out at her desk. Again. But she’d have to take off the glasses, and either end the chat or transfer over to her ear piece to keep talking. Another yawn followed on the tail of the first. “I need to sleep. Sorry, ladies.”

They said their good nights—good mornings, in Dorothy’s case—and then Roz tossed her glasses on top of her desk. As she finished shutting down the office for the evening, Ana’s words echoed in her head.

There was no reason to give Quinn any indicator at all that she cared about what had happened back then. She didn’t. So why couldn’t she get rid of the thought of showing what he was missing out on? And that’s all it would be. She wouldn’t be trying to win him back or anything.

Her phone chimed, and she glanced at the text from Ana.

If you change your mind, I can be at your place first thing with something sexy.

Roz dropped her phone back in her purse. No, she wasn’t going to do that. She’d be professional and polite, and the day would pass before she knew it. She didn’t care what Quinn thought. That was a past she’d made a conscious decision to leave behind.

Trees passed by the Mag-Car window at high speed. Quinn’s attention wandered over the scenery. He’d missed Emerald City. Not a lot of places in the US had so much green left.

An image danced through his thoughts—black hair draping pale shoulders, covering a gorgeous, bare figure. His body reacted to the memory, and he shoved it all aside. This wasn’t about how good they’d been together. It was all about showing her what she’d given up.

The jangle of his phone jarred him back to the present. The cab driver met his eyes in the rear view mirror. “Is that the new Lionheart single? Love that song, man.”

Quinn gave him a tight-lipped smile, and clicked ‘Answer.’ He’d loved it too. The first hundred times he’d played it, it had been his favorite song. It was the last time he was using one of his tunes as a ring tone, and he really needed to change it now he was out of his keeper’s grasp. He glanced at the caller ID long enough to see it was his business manager. Speak of the devil. “Morning, boss-lady.”

“How’s it going so far?” Iris’s tone was cool and professional.

He rolled his eyes at no one in particular. She hadn’t wanted him to take this trip. Said it was too dangerous with the death threats and all, on top of being a waste of time. She’d almost had a breakdown, when he insisted he was going without bodyguards or a handler, or anyone else. “You know I’m not due in for fifteen minutes.”

“Oh, right. I got confused with the time difference.”

Because crossing two time zones made a fifteen minute difference hard to follow.

Normally her attitude kept them in work, out of court, and on track with their various obligations. But he wasn’t in the mood for her brand of passive-aggressive professionalism this morning. “Of course you wer—” The car pulled into the studio parking lot, and the sight in front of him erased his thoughts. “Fuck me. You’ve got to be kidding.”

“You okay?” Concern leaked into Iris’s voice.

Crowds of women, girls, and some men packed the area surrounding the building. So much for keeping this visit a secret. Had someone on his staff told, or were the rumors true, and someone working for Roz was less than discreet? Not that it mattered. What was done was done. “I’m fine. It’s just packed here.”

“I warned you.”

“It’s all good.” It wasn’t, really. He’d hoped for some peace and quiet for this reunion. It was part of the reason he’d made the trip alone, instead of waiting until they were in town on tour. But it was what it was.

“It’s not all good. What about the threats?” Of course she had to bring those up.

“I’ll be fine. They’re just from some crazy kid, talking to be heard.”

“Quinn—”

“Iris. I’ll be fine.” He kept her from pushing for more, by saying a quick goodbye.

The moment the car door opened, screams pierced his ears. Some people hated the crowds, but he didn’t. The attention dragged a smile to his face. He pushed through the throngs, waving, shaking hands. The brief moment refreshed him. None of these people were a threat. Iris was worried over nothing.

The door opened for him the moment he reached it, and swung shut quickly behind him.

“It locks automatically.” A familiar voice obliterated the rest of his morning, and he spun to face her. “They won’t follow you in,” she said.

“Zee, baby.” His smile grew. She didn’t look at all like he expected. It was true he’d known she’d still be beautiful, but the clothing wasn’t her at all. At least not the Roz he knew. Her cream-colored skirt and matching jacket hugged every curve perfectly, and the wine top underneath had an extra button undone, teasing him with just a glimpse of her round, full breasts.

A twinge of something he couldn’t name rolled inside. He was here to make amends, not rekindle an old flame. So why didn’t the slight ache in his chest want him to look away?

“You look gorgeous.” He stepped forward, rested his hands on her shoulders, and kissed her on the cheek.

She stepped back and slid her palm into his in a handshake instead. “Mr. Blaydes.”

“Really?” He kept his pleasant expression intact. He traced a finger down her arm, gaze locked on hers. “After what we shared, and that’s all I get?”

“It’s been three years,” she muttered, smile fixed in place. It was soft, and on the surface looked genuine, but he knew her well enough to see the strain in her eyes. “If I let our clients get grabby, I’d never get any work done.” Despite the forced expression, her tone was warm and friendly.

“Of course.” He could play formal but polite, despite what her touch did to him. His cock twitched in protest, and a long forgotten ache grew in his chest. Maybe he’d missed her more than he realized. His primary reason for being there was to check out her state of the art video studio for the band and a new video they were shooting. It was a bonus Roz had created the technology they wanted to use.

He didn’t like the way they’d left things when they’d split, right after he and Lionheart had signed their first contract. And now he finally had another chance. Given the way she’d dumped him, making amends would be a tough road, but he was up for the challenge. “I just meant… It’s great to see you again.”

She clenched her jaw and glanced away for the briefest second, before pointing her beaming, painted-on-glee in his direction again. “It’s good to see you too. It’s always wonderful to have friendly faces back in studio. Can I get you anything this morning? Water? Soda? Something stronger? Some bands like to stay sober, but I don’t know how much things have changed since you made it big. We always keep a fully stocked bar.”

All I want is you. Maybe on your desk.
The thought came out of nowhere, surprising him. But he liked the vivid images it brought with it. “I’m great, thanks.”

She gestured toward a hallway lined with doors. “You mentioned there wasn’t enough information online. What would you like to know, now that you’re here?”

That cool, professional demeanor. Never yielding or giving any indication their relationship had been more intimate in the past. She
was
going to be tough to crack. “How about giving me the grand tour?”

Her mouth twisted—in amusement or irritation, he couldn’t tell. Maybe it was both. “Of course,” she said. Her mask was slipping. The strain around her eyes leaked into her voice. “It’s easier to show you what we do, if I know what you’re working on. There are so many details here, and I know you’d like specific information.”

“Where’s the high-tech stuff?” He closed the distance between them, pausing when he was close enough to feel her heat but not quite touching her. His every nerve ending pleaded for him to move closer. This had better be impacting her the way it was him. He obliterated the desire to do more than press her against a wall, and ignored the urge to just wrap her up and make the formal bullshit vanish by paying attention to every luscious inch of her gorgeous body. “The stuff you came up with.”

Pink colored her cheeks, but she didn’t pull away. Her smile shifted to something more genuine. “Most of it’s in the mixing room. This way.”

She turned away, and he let his gaze travel over her again. She looked just as good from behind. And with her dark hair piled on top of her head, her long neck was tempting. His cock perked to life at the memory of his running his lips over her porcelain skin.
Down boy. At least for now.

She nodded at a closed door. “We can’t look at the filming studio now; a local station is shooting a commercial. But it should be open in a few hours.” She paused in front of another door, and nudged it open with her toe. “This is where the real magic happens.”

The rest of the office had been steel and glass. Sleek and clean. And in comparison to this, it looked almost Stone Age. A paper-thin computer screen covered one wall from ceiling to floor and corner to corner. Plastic tablets with pens decorated several tables, and LEDs blinked everywhere he looked. He recognized a lot of the equipment, but he had no idea how she was making it work together. Not only just as sexy as he remembered, but still using her stunning intelligence as well. “Wow.”

Her expression grew more pleased. “I haven’t even explained any of it.” Pride lined her reply.

“I’m not sure I would understand it.” He continued to survey the room. “But try me.”

He’d been wrong before, when she’d greeted him. Her looks were nothing compared to the way her face lit up when she started talking tech. That was the woman he remembered from college.

His dick stirred again, straining against his jeans. It was true, he was only here for a few days, but spending time with her was going to be worth it. Even though their past needed to remain history, maybe when he flew out he could take some new memories with him.

She faced him, face flushed with excitement. “Did you get all that?”

“About half of it.” He returned her grin. “But I trust you on the rest. I’d really like to see where you film, though.”

“Do you want to come back when the room is open?”

He’d rather stick around, and see what they could get up to while he waited. Now that the idea was in his head, it wasn’t going away. He just wanted a little taste. Okay, he wanted more than a little. “Let’s head into your office. Discuss details. I’m really liking what I’m seeing.”

She led him a few feet down the hall, into a room that glowed with her influence. It was the only wood he’d seen in the place. Mahogany stained desk, programming books lining the walls, and haphazard stacks of discs littering every available surface.

She gestured for him to step inside, and followed. The moment they were both through, he rested his palm on the door to close it, placing her between him and the wall. His voice came out huskier than he expected. “I’m
really
liking what I’m seeing.” He dipped his head close, inhaling deeply. She smelled amazing too. He’d like the next twenty-four hours just to reacquaint himself with her nuances, and that would be just the appetizer.