Dear Rockstar (16 page)

“Yes.” I touched his cheek, drawing his attention back up to me, eyes locked with mine. “Yours. I promise. Yours.”

He moaned, reaching for me, folding me up into his arms as I rocked on top of him, rolling my hips, grinding my pelvis as we kissed, tongues plunging. I’d never felt so safe, so held, as when we were joined this way. There was nothing in the world like it, nothing I had ever experienced.

It wasn’t just sex—it was beyond that basic, animal drive. This man knew me. I didn’t have to tell him anything. He just knew. The way we rocked together, the way he kissed me, the way he looked at me when he thought I wasn’t watching, the way my world suddenly revolved around him like my body had found its core, the center of the universe—it was everything.

Coming together with him like this wasn’t some quick fizzle and pop, like I’d experienced with other guys. It was a long, sustained, glorious stretch of energy, as if together, we created our own plane of existence, far above the world we walked around in every day. It was like magic, like the joining of our bodies transcended everything, even our selves, until we were floating together as one out among the stars.

Dale cried out beneath me, his arms tightening around my back, pulling my breasts down, flattening them against his chest, hips thrusting up, doing all the work now. He was taking me, fucking me from underneath, moving toward that final moment, as if he could thrust up through me and burst me right open, like a sunburst exploding on the surface of the sun.

“Come for me,” I moaned for him, just like he had for me, grinding my hips into his, meeting him, wanting it too. I wanted to feel him blast off inside of me.

Dale stiffened suddenly, groaning and driving up hard, hips bucking under mine, and I felt the white-hot burst of him deep inside my belly. He shuddered with it, his mouth capturing mine, the moment one long sustained ride of pleasure so beautiful I cried, bursting into tears with the flood of emotion, unable to contain it.

He held me close, whispering my name over and over into my ear, kissing my tears. I wasn’t sad. I tried to tell him. I tried to open my mouth and say the words, but only more tears would come. I clung to him as he pulled a blanket from the sofa over us, my breath hitching as the heat in my chest and belly began to ebb.

“Are you okay?” he murmured as we snuggled under the Christmas tree and stared up through the branches at all of the lights and decorations.

I nodded, still not able to speak, my tears drying on my cheeks.

I was feeling something so big and so foreign to me, I couldn’t quite identify it at first. Like Dale, with Dale, it had come into my life out of nowhere and had taken over. When had it crept in? While I wasn’t looking or paying attention? It happened as quietly as the snow falling outside, blanketing everything.

I sobbed, letting him hold me and wipe away my tears, and knew, finally, what it was.

I was happy.

     
CHAPTER FIFTEEN     

“Do I look fat in this?” Aimee turned sideways in the bathroom mirror.

“You know better than to ask me that question.” I looked over at her from where I was leaning over the sink, touching up my mascara, moving aside when another girl came out of one of the stalls and wanted to wash her hands.

“I just…” Aimee smoothed her hands down over her dress and her practically concave stomach. “Matt’s mother said something at the wedding.”

I gaped at her. “About your weight?”

“No. About Leslie. You know, the bride.”

I snapped my mascara closed and tossed it back into my purse. “What does that have to do with you?”

“Nothing I guess.”

“What did she say?”

“That a woman should be at her thinnest and most beautiful on her wedding day.”

“Ridiculous.” I scoffed, coming over and putting my arms around her from behind and resting my chin on her shoulder. “Besides every bride is beautiful. It’s like newborn babies or puppies. They can’t help it.”

“I hope so.” She met my eyes in the mirror and smiled. “Because Matt asked me to marry him.”

“What?” I turned her around to face me, hands on her shoulders, my mouth hanging open. “You’re kidding me? Right? You’re…?”

She pulled off one of her white lace Madonna gloves, showing me her left hand. There was a ring on it. It wasn’t huge, but it was a diamond.

“How did he afford this?” I gasped, grabbing her hand and staring at it.

“He’s making pretty good money working for his dad,” Aimee explained. “Once he gets his CPA, he’ll be a full-fledged accountant. He’s the only one of the boys interested in the family business… Did you hear me? I’m getting married!”

We both looked at each other and screamed, squealing and hugging and laughing and jumping up and down like three-year-olds until two girls came in to use the bathroom and looked at us like we were crazy.

“That means you and Carrie are going to be sisters?” I blinked at her. “How weird is that?”

“I know.” She laughed. “Carrie said the same thing.”

“She knows?”

“Matt proposed at the rehearsal dinner.”

My jaw dropped again. “Wow.”

“I was embarrassed—I thought it was kind of mean, to steal Leslie’s day, but I guess he’d been planning it. They all knew about it and wanted him to.”

“His parents are okay with it? I mean… you’ve been dating, what, six months?”

She blinked at me. “As long as you’ve been dating Dale.”

“Well yeah… but I’m not marrying him.”

“Yet.” She grinned.

“Come on, I think he’s next.” I grabbed her hand as we hurried back out into the club, where it was so dark, smoky and loud no one could hear themselves think—which was probably the point.

“I thought
you’d drowned.” Matt winked at me as we slid back into our seats at the table. The lead singer of the band on stage was a Flock of Seagulls wannabe and his mohawk was just a flash of white over the crowd.

“He’s up next!” Wendy had to practically yell to be heard. Carrie was on the other side of her.

“Is he any good?” Matt draped his arm casually across Aimee’s shoulders. I’d forgotten he hadn’t seen Black Diamond performing in the mall the day we’d met up with them, before the movies, and he’d missed the first auditions, the qualifying round for today—the semi-finals.

“He’s
amazing.”
Aimee pointed toward the stage where Black Diamond was setting up their equipment.

“He’s going to win,” I said, but I don’t think anyone heard me.

Dale was up there, looking like a god in his jeans and t-shirt and combat boots, head bent as he tuned his guitar and plugged it into his new amp. The band was setting up too, his bass player, Terry, leaning over to say something to him. Terry didn’t like me. None of them did. They thought I was too much of a distraction, and they were probably right.

I felt a little sorry for the other guys in the band. They could play—the music sounded good, mostly because Dale was a harsh taskmaster, forcing them to practice every single day—but no one ever noticed them. It was terrible, but I couldn’t even remember the drummer’s name. He was a big bear of a guy, full beard, wore a headband and only a tank-top when they played, and I just thought of him as “Bear.” Their lead guitarist, Rick, was a Dale wannabe, but nowhere near as enigmatic. I think he was the only one who really resented the way Dale stood out and the rest of them faded into the background simply because he was on stage.

I think the rest of them knew they were superfluous, but kind of like Ringo had once said about the Beatles, they were just happy to be there, part of something greater than themselves.

And they were great. Not only were they great, they were ready. I’d heard them play just two nights ago in the academy auditorium, where they held our all-school assemblies, and had been blown away by how good they sounded.

But I was still nervous.

There were cameras here from MTV, although this part of the Battle of the Bands wouldn’t be televised. They were just gathering footage in case any of these bands happened to make it to the finals.

“Sara, don’t bite your nails,” Aimee said, looking up.

“Yes, Mommy,” I snapped, pulling my hand away from my mouth, inspecting the damage I’d done. If I bit them any more, they were going to bleed.

“It’s starting!” Wendy pointed.

“Here’s another group—they hail from Iselin, New Jersey.” The emcee’s voice was loud over the speakers. “They call themselves Black Diamond!”

The noise level swelled and it reminded me of a smaller version of the Tyler Vincent concert. The lights went dark, all of them, and then began pulsing with the beat of the song. And there was Dale, standing in front of the microphone, head slightly belt, listening for his cue. His leg moved slightly to the beat, one hand on the mic, the other on his guitar.

When he lifted his head and began to sing, looking out into the audience, the spotlight focused on him and him alone, it was immediately clear this man was a star. Every girl in the place jumped to her feet, unable to contain the feelings he elicited. There was something about him that forced a woman to respond. I felt it too, my body rising without thought, screaming along with the rest of the crowd.

His voice was hypnotic and it drew everyone. The song was a Bon Jovi cover—another New Jersey band who’d made it to the big time. I knew Dale was on his way. Wendy reached over, grabbing my hand, squealing, “Come on!” Carrie was on the other side of her and had her hand, pulling her toward the stage. Aimee made up the last of our all girl train as we threaded our way through the crowd.

There was just no staying still when Dale was on stage. A crowd had already gathered at the front, pushing in, so there was no room for us. We got as close as we could, like everyone else, swept away by the music and the magic of his voice, the way he moved the energy through the room. He shared it, rather than hoarding it, like I’d seen so many bands tonight do. Too many of them had been like some self-contained unit, in a little bubble, performing not for the crowd but for themselves.

Dale knew how to perform, not just for a crowd, but with them. You felt engaged by him, like it was personal. You felt as if he was singing just to you and he meant every single word. I don’t know how he did it. I don’t think it was a trick, or a gimmick. I think it was just Dale. It was just who he was, and he came across on stage like he was the center of the universe, the source of all gravity, pulling us in, pulling us toward him.

I was enthralled. They all were. I glanced at the MTV cameraman and he was working hard to keep up. They had another camera on the other side of the stage that had been off previously, but it was manned now, filming Black Diamond. As the song came to a close, the crowd cheered more loudly than I’d heard yet
. It was as if they had been waiting for this moment all night. Maybe longer than that. And this was just their first song. They had one more to go.

My eyes were glued on Dale, his dark beauty coming so electrically alive I couldn’t look away. The applause was deafening. I was so proud I could barely speak. Dale was sweating and smiling. His happiness was infectious. Their second song was a slow one, something he had written himself. They had to do at least one cover song, but they were allowed to do one original if they wanted to. Most of them had just done two cover songs.

“This one is for my girl, Sara,” Dale said into the microphone. “She’s out there tonight and she’ll know what I mean.”

Aimee looked at me. I saw Matt had joined her, standing behind with his arms wrapped around her waist. She gave me a thumbs up and I smiled back. Every girl in that place wanted to be “Sara” in that moment. But I was Sara. I was
his
Sara. On stage, he belonged to everyone. But when he stepped off it, he was mine.

My heart was full to bursting.

When the music started, it wasn’t the song they’d practiced, the one I’d heard him do in the academy auditorium. It was a song I’d never heard before. Aimee grinned at me, applauding with everyone else. He changed the mood swiftly and easily with the quality of his voice:

“My heart is strong, its beat goes on

Nothing can stop me now until I have won

If I can’t love my own freedom and truth

Why would you trust me when I say I love you…”

He’d found me in the crowd. I don’t know how, under all those lights, but he’d found me and was looking right at me. The energy between us was electrifying. I felt it surging through me, making my toes curl and the hair at the back of my neck stand on end.

“I’ll take you places, baby, you never could

Don’t make me hurt you, baby, for your own good

I’ll be your lover, I’ll be your man

Just never ask me not to be what I am

These hands that work, fight and play hard at night

These hands you trust, girl, everyday to treat you right

Don’t you forget, girl, that they are led by my heart

They’ll always put first what I’ve loved from the start…”

The song ended and the lights went dark again.

The crowd went absolutely wild. So many people rushed the stage we were being crushed. I could barely breathe. The crowd chanted,
“Black Diamond, Black Diamond, Black Diamond.”
The cameras were still rolling and Dale stood at the microphone, head down. I saw his chest rising and falling with his breath, even in the dim haze. The emcee came onto the stage, leaning over to say something to Dale, into his ear, behind his hand. Then Dale handed the microphone over.

The spotlight went on, illuminating the emcee and Dale beside him.

“You want more of Black Diamond?” the emcee asked.

The crowd screamed like crazy. I did too.

“Here they are for an encore.
Black Diamond!”

The emcee handed the mic back to Dale and they were off to the races, doing another cover, this one by Journey. I watched Dale move across the stage, beautiful and strangely graceful, striding back and forth like he owned it. And he did. He didn’t just know it, everyone knew it—even Rick, the envious lead guitarist, who came over to Dale while he was singing, both of them playing guitar together, making the crowd cheer.