Gauge: Rockstar Romance (The ProVokaTiv Series Book 1) (9 page)

I walked into the room and saw Jessie and Trinity sprawled out in the plush bed, sound asleep.  Just because I was awake didn’t mean everyone else was.  I snuck over to the dresser drawer, pulled out some clean clothes for the day, and went to take a shower and an aspirin.  We were supposed to go and have a fun day in one of the most beautiful cities in the world.   I had to revamp to 100%.

A long, hot shower felt great. When I finally opened the bathroom door, followed by a huge puff of steam, I saw Trinity and Jessie propped up in the bed, eagerly waiting for me to be done in the bathroom.

“Get your little ass over here,” Trinity said, smacking her hand down on the comforter.

“Good morning.  I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“Yes, but who cares.  We’re excited to see you,” Jessie said.

“And hear all about it,” Trinity added, wrapping her arms around her bent legs.

“The party was amazing,” I said.  “Thanks so much.  I still can’t believe it.”  I smiled brightly, ignoring how that hurt my head

“Don’t be coy with us,” Trinity said.  “Tell us.”

“Everything,” Jessie added.  “What happened after you left the party?”

“Go figure, I partied too hard and don’t really remember.  I know we didn’t have sex.”

“You just talked?” Trinity asked.  There was doubt in her voice.

Jessie smacked her arm.  “There’s nothing wrong with that, Trinity.”  She turned back to me and encouraged me to continue.

“I honestly don’t remember everything, and I could kick myself for it, but I feel good about it, really content,” I offered.

“You two have some crazy chemistry.  I’ve never seen anything like it,” Trinity said.

“I hope you two weren’t worried about me,” I offered.  “I should have let you know that I wasn’t going back to the room.”

“It’s okay.  Gauge left us a message saying you were crashing there,” Jessie said.  I knew from the way she was smiling that he’d earned bonus points with her.  That type of thing was on her ‘stand-up guy’ list.

“He did?” I asked.  I’ll admit, that touched me, too.  It was thoughtful.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t suppose he gave any hints as to what we talked about?  I have some fuzzy recollections, but I’m not sure if they were in my dreams or really happened.  You know that feeling.”

Jessie said “no” at the same time Trinity said “yes.”

We all laughed, and my amazing friends got up and started to get ready.  We were going to go have a fun day. Tonight, before they took the late flight out of here and back to Minneapolis, they were going to be backstage with me at the ProVokaTiv concert.

It turned out that we all had a lack of energy, and we spent our afternoon lying on the beach and enjoying the sparkling shades of blue of the Mediterranean Sea.  The water was amazing. I loved how I could look down to my feet and see the soft, white sand and the color of my toenails through the clear water.  So beautiful!

“So, what did you guys think of everyone from the band and the crew?” I asked when we were walking through the water.  I turned my head and had to take my hair out of my face.  The wind was sending it flying everywhere and unlike Trinity and Jessie, my hair wasn’t long enough to put up in a tie.

“They seemed very nice.  I can tell they like you a lot, too,” Jessie said.

“Hunter’s pretty cool,” Trinity said.

“I don’t remember all of last night, but I definitely remember that you two were cut from the same party mold,” I said.

“He’s wild.  You know how I love wild.”  I laughed at Trinity’s animated expression.  “Is he always that way?”

“For the most part,” I said.

Jessie wasn’t saying anything. I looked over at her.  She was running her fingers through the water, showing off her Marilyn Monroe-curves under a crocheted black bikini.  “So Jessie.  What did you think of meeting Simon in person?”

“He’s different than I thought he’d be,” she said.

“Is that good?” I asked.

“It’s…”  She paused as she tried to find the word she wanted to say.  “It’s nice,” she concluded.

“Oh, come on, Jess,” Trinity said, splashing her with a healthy dose of water.  “Don’t be so sweet.  You thought he was damn good looking, admit it.”

“I already knew he was good looking,” Jessie said.  “It was nice to see that he didn’t seem like a stereotypical rock star.”

“Like Hunter?” Trinity said.  Trinity got a serious look on her face, and I knew she was yanking Jessie’s chain.  Jessie went to significant lengths to say everything in a kind way and never offend anyone accidentally or on purpose.

“Well, you have to admit that he fits the type better,” Jessie said.  “I meant the way he talks and the type of conversation we could have, not that we talked that much.  I actually found that Boomer guy to be pretty interesting.”

“You don’t think you talked ‘that much’?” Trinity asked.

“No, not really.”

I patted Jessie’s back.  “You may not have thought you talked a lot, but even I noticed how Simon always ended up navigating back to you to throw in a sentence or two before moving on.  He was just subtle about it.”

“Like two ships in the night,” Trinity said in a syrupy voice.

Jessie and I stared at her, then burst out into wild laughter.  “That was the grossest thing you’ve ever said,” I said.

“And you’ve said some pretty gross things,” Jessie added.

“Are you guys ready for the concert tonight?”

“Can’t wait.  I can’t believe I’ve never seen them in concert before,” Trinity said.

“If you’ve seen one, you’ve seen twenty,” I said.

“Is that how many concerts you’ve sat through this summer?” Jessie asked.

“It is,” I said.  “Twenty-one after tonight.”

“Are they all the same?”

“What the fans see is basically the same, but different things happen behind the scenes at everyone.  It depends on the city, culture, venue, things like that.”

“Any sex parties?” Trinity asked.

“Not that I’ve stumbled upon, thank God,” I said.  I changed the subject with relief. “It’s too bad that you guys have to go after the concert.  I’m feeling spoiled, and I’ll miss you more than ever,” I said.

“Oh, it’s hard not seeing you, too, Brynn.”

“Kind of crazy to think that we’re all headed off in different directions now,” I said. It also meant that we would never be back in the Minneapolis again, unless it was for a reunion.

“I don’t worry about us losing touch.  I don’t think it’ll happen,” Jessie said confidently.

“Okay, you two, this is about fun, not worrying about all that,” Trinity said.  “Let’s get back and get ready for the show.  Plus, I’m starving and need to eat.”

My friends and I went back to the hotel and up to our rooms.  We all stood there, staring at ourselves in the long mirror that hung across the double vanity.  Our hair was windblown, our cheeks had a slight rosy glow to them from the Mediterranean sun, and Jessie and I had gotten a our tropical tans on.  Trinity’s complexion turned a bit more golden from the sun, accenting her Asian complexion beautifully.

“I’m thinking selfie,” I said.

I went and pulled out my camera and took a picture of all of us, our heads huddled together and big smiles on our faces.  As the camera light blinked, I felt a flush of happiness that almost made me cry.

Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t stop thinking about Jessie and Trinity after they were gone. Seeing them was a hard-hitting reminder of how much I’d missed them, and I’d done a decent job of keeping that in check until the party. I was grateful for it, but it forced a small bout of homesickness on me. That had made for a melancholy evening after I’d seen them off to the airport. I had to push my feelings aside the next day and get into gear, because today was a huge day for me.

In a half hour, I would be conducting my official, on the record, interview with Gauge. I was excited and a bit nervous, too. I’d never been in a situation where the lines between my personal life and a professional project were obviously blurry. There was only one thing to do; master the situation.

Dressed nicely but not too nicely, I strolled down the hall, giving myself a mental prep talk about what I expected to happen during that interview. I even went so far as to do some visualization, an old trick for these types of situations.

“Let’s do this,” I whispered, folding my hand and wrapping my knuckles on the white lacquered hotel room door. I knocked, and the door opened a second later. Wow, that was fast!

“Hey, you ready,” I said, smiling brightly at Gauge. His hand was on the door knob to his hotel room, and he was holding his t-shirt in his other hand. Was that an intentional distraction? What a crafty bastard.

“I am,” he said. “Come on in.”

I walked in and past him, catching a slight whiff of his scent. I took in an invigorating draft that combined aftershave and sweat. He was absolutely intoxicating. Focus, I thought. I couldn’t afford to have this interview go any other way than how I chose it to.

“Feeling spritely today, I see, Brynn.”

“Well rested and ready to do this interview,” I replied, sitting down on the place I wanted to be on the couch of his suite and looking at him expectantly.

“Got it,” Gauge said, not able to hide his cheeky grin. Was he laughing at me?

“Do you need a second to get ready, or anything?” I asked.

“No, I’m ready,” he said. He sat down with his shirt off. I put my eyes down, trying to hide the fact that I was rolling them into the back of my head to get the image of his body out of my mind. Then it happened…a spark, a revelation of what I could do to be in control of this situation and essentially give myself permission to stare at his Adonis-like body. If he was going to do this to me, even unintentionally, I was going to come out of it on top.

“Great, let’s start with your tattoos, since they’re easy to get to right now,” I said. I pulled out my recorder and pressed
play
.

“What about them?”

“I want to know the stories behind them, what inspired them. We’ll go from there.”

“Okay,” Gauge said. “Ask away.”

I looked at him and reached over and touched his bicep with my pointer finger, lightly touching the swirling tattoo. It wasn’t elaborate but it was powerful. “Let’s start with the one everybody can see.”

“Hm, interesting,” Gauge said.

“This was the first tattoo I ever got. I was only sixteen but lied and said I was eighteen. Wow, was my mom pissed off.”

“Did you know she’d be?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t care.”

“What does it represent?”

“Well, it reminds me that you have to be a warrior for your dreams; if you don’t keep them going, no one else will. I have to fight my battles, accept my defeats alone, and my victories with grace.”

“Is it a pattern that was at a shop or one you picked out?” I asked.

“Simon actually sketched it out for me, believe it or not. He sketched it, I took it to the artist, and that’s it.”

“That’s pretty cool.”

Gauge shrugged, not seeming to particularly agree or disagree with my sentiment.

“How long before you got the next one?”

“Not until I was eighteen. I may have been rebellious, but my mom’s wrath was worse.”

“Why? What did she do?” I could feel my eyes getting wide, wondering what could be so severe.

“She made me do my own laundry until the very day I moved out of the house.”

I started laughing. I thought it was awesome, but I could completely get how it would not be if I was Gauge.

“How long after you moved out before getting the next one?”

“A week. I’d had it planned out for a long time.”

“So, was that original artwork, too?”

“Yes, they all are. Why be a copy?” Gauge looked at me intensely, his eyes simmering.

“Which one is the next tattoo?” I asked.

He pointed to the side of his abs. I leaned in. A large mermaid had an anchor in her mouth. Some of her features were exaggerated, giving her large eyes, a fierce jawline, and flared nostrils—no sweet and tender maid of the sea there. Blood was trickling down the corners of her mouth, landing in a splash of blood at the base of her tail. The design was a bit rough, but that added to the serious nature of it.

“Tell me about that one.”

Gauge didn’t talk at first, leaning back and folding his arms. I knew I had to tread cautiously, both as a professional and someone with a personal interest, too. I didn’t say a word, waiting for him to talk. It was an old sales trick that my dad had taught me when he helped me buy my first car. He said, “Brynn, the first one to talk loses the advantage, doesn’t get the best deal.”

He glanced at me. I looked at him calmly, showing my patience as he thought it through. Slowly, and in a softer voice than he typically used, he began. “When I was sixteen, just before my junior year of high school, my Grandpa James, a guy I greatly admired, was out on a deep sea fishing trip. It had been a lifelong dream of his, something he’d talked about doing ever since I could remember. Well, on that trip, there was an accident and the boat sunk. There was no chance of a rescue. It was a fluke accident, never fully explained. The anchor was in really bad shape, though, when they finally salvaged the boat and bodies the following week. There wasn’t a way to tell if the anchor was damaged before or after the accident.”

“I’m sorry,” I said softly.

“It was hard.”

“Why get a tattoo to remind you of the tragedy?”

“I’m not afraid to remember the hard times, the challenges. They’re a part of life,” Gauge said.

“So they are,” I replied. Now it was Gauge who was looking at me, and I was struggling to find my words. It was time to move on. “How many tattoos total?”

“Eight.”

“And each has a meaning, a story behind them?”

“They do,” Gauge said.

He went through and shared more stories about him than what I’d learned since meeting him. His body represented a to-date biography. I was completely wrapped up in it. It was worthy of a Shakespearean masterpiece; there was tragedy, horror, love, happiness, heartbreak, and even greed. The greed was hard for me to imagine. Gauge told me about how he’d gotten so wrapped up in his career and his rock star status in those first few years that he’d really been a dick to some great people. When he became more aware, he wanted to get a visual reminder so he had no excuses to revert back to that version of him, one he despised. The tattoo that represented that was a bright green circle with a black Celtic symbol inside that meant greed. It was beautiful, and although greed is by and large considered a negative word, for good reason, I got such a positive, tranquil feeling from it. However, I couldn’t help but notice that it was located in the center of his back, hardly a spot where he could just look at it for a reminder. I snickered.

“What?” Gauge asked.

“You must look at your ass in the mirror a lot,” I said bluntly. His eyes widened. “You see, you can’t see that if you’re just looking down. It takes some work to be reminded of your greed, wouldn’t you say?”

“Case in point. I was running out of real estate where I’d like a tattoo, though.”

“So, are all of them visible?” I asked.

“You’re full of shocking questions when you’re in journalist-mode. Damn.”

“It’s a fair question; goes with the territory,” I justified.

“They’re all visible, aside from one.”

“Where’s that?”

“I’m not saying.” Gauge actually blushed and grew flustered with the question. I liked poking him, being sneaky and playful. It was too much fun.

“Come on. You promised to share all your tattoo stories.”

“No, I didn’t, and I’m not going to. Trust me on this one.”

I dropped it. He was defiant; no big surprise there.

The rest of our interview was nice but not as riveting. We discussed show business, his work ethic, and other things that I’d already gained an opinion on, one that wasn’t too far off from what Gauge expressed. It was nice, but I was revved up. My mind wouldn’t let go of the thoughts of what that last, secretive tattoo was or where it was located.

“Well, I should go back up. The bus leaves for Barcelona in an hour. I’m not prepared at all.”

“Okay, see you on the bus,” Gauge said. He walked me over to the door, opening it, and I walked out. I turned my head to see if he was watching, and he was. I hope my ass looked good.

Gauge slid into the seat next to me on the bus. “Hey,” I mumbled.

“All ready?” he asked.

“Obviously,” I said, breaking into a big smile.

“Any more interview questions for me?”

“Only one, but you won’t answer it.”

The bus pulled away, making our bodies jerk backward in the seat slightly.

From behind us, Hunter called out, “Damn it. I have coffee all over my fucking shirt now. Be careful.”

“
Mi dispiace signore
,” the driver called out from way up front.
I’m sorry, sir.

I thought Hunter was a real jerk for being like that. It was obviously an accident. I looked at Gauge, and he whispered, “Meet me in the bathroom in a minute.” He got up and walked back to the bathroom. My jaw dropped, and a feral, sexy rush moved through me.

I walked back, going past Simon, who was attentively reading a book, and then Hunter, who was changing his coffee-stained shirt and swearing up a storm. So rude.

I cracked the unlocked door just enough to slide in. I turned around and locked it behind me.

Ready to say something smarmy to alleviate some of my anxiety, I looked up at Gauge. He leaned in with authority and planted a firm, desperate kiss on my lips. I pulled him close, forcing my tongue between his lips greedily.

I was leaning against the sink. The cubicle was just barely large enough for two people. Every nerve ending was buzzing. I was overwhelmed, and couldn’t get enough of him.

Gauge wrapped his arms around me to get me on the edge of the small counter. My feet pressed against the wall on the other side. He leaned in, starting to kiss my neck more aggressively, and his lips traveling down my neck and eventually to my cleavage.

Wanting to taste him, my lips went to his ear. I nibbled on it gently. He let out a soft groan, completely contrary to his animalistic actions. “Let me see that tattoo,” I whispered in his ear.

I didn’t have to ask twice that time. Gauge’s hands went down. He slid off his pants and boxers, leaving them in a bundle on the floor around his legs. His feet were still in the pant legs. I looked down, not able to resist staring at the source of a few fantasies over the past two months. I was not disappointed. Actually, my fantasies didn’t do it justice. As I saw how hard he was, I had to touch it, to feel him. I began to stroke him. He started to moan again.

His hands went up to my waist. My shorts peeled off and hit the counter, then the floor before I’d realized what had happened. All that was left between me and bliss were my lace panties, which Gauge moved to the side. He slid his fingers into me and began to move them around, hitting every sweet spot he could and finding a few I’d forgotten I had. His lips pressed against mine again. The tension was growing and growing, making me feel like I could orgasm just from his touch. Man, I loved how guitar players could use their fingers. He could play me anytime, and clearly, anywhere. I was going to let go any minute now, maybe even let out a banshee howl.

Then, it happened. Gauge lifted me up again and lowered me down on to him, pressing his back against the bathroom door. I moved back and forth, finding the rhythm despite the bumpiness that came with being on a bus. For every movement my hips made upward, I felt Gauge sliding into me more deeply. It was all-consuming. I found myself having an orgasm that almost felt convulsive, my head arching back and all my muscles tensing. As it burst through, my body burned hot and cold. I stifled my yowl by biting his shoulder. My fingernails dug into his back and I felt him shudder with release.

I threw my head back, exultant, and barked it on the cabinet behind me. I yelped, then clapped a hand over my mouth. Gauge started laughing. I looked at him, horrified only for a brief second. Then I started laughing, too.

“This is my favorite bus ride ever.”

“Agreed. Wow,” Gauge said. He set me down. We were both standing there, partially naked and so close that our bodies were still touching. “I can’t believe how long I waited for that,” he added.