The Rock Star and the Girl From the Coffee Shop 2: Under Pressure

The Rock Star

and the Girl from the

Coffee Shop 2:

Under Pressure

By

Terry Towers

The Rock Star And The Girl From The Coffee Shop 2: Under Pressure

Copyright 2013 by Terry Towers

Cover by: Terry Towers

All rights reserved. With the exception of brief quotes used for critical reviews and articles no part of this book may be used or reproduced without the written permission of the author Terry Towers. Saint John, New Brunswick, Canada. Terry Towers can be contacted via her website at www.elixaeverett.com

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This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors imagination and used fictitiously.

"Did you know she took the money?" Hanna asked as she passed Bo the melted ice pack that she'd been holding to her swollen lip, the injury courtesy of the band's drunken ex-manager Victor, and replaced it with the new one he was offering her.

"No. I asked Jeremy before we got on the plane and as far as he knew she was going back home to take care of her mother for a while. Just what you were told. He figured she was going to come back and spend some time with him once the tour was over and her mother was better. He had no idea she was paid to leave," Bo said, shrugging and turning away from her. "I'll be right back."

Keeping the ice pack on her lip, she turned in the seat of Bo's private jet and watched him walk down the aisle to the back of the plane to throw the melted ice pack in the sink.

She couldn't believe how much she'd come to care about him so soon. It had only been a month and she was already coming to the point where she couldn't imagine life without him in it. When the band's former manager, Victor, offered her $2 million to walk away from Bo and never come back, she didn't even have to think about it. Sure their relationship may not last, and the money would have changed her life, but in this instance, foolish or not, she had to go with her heart.

"Alright. I think we both can use a glass of wine right now." Sitting down in the cream-coloured leather seat across from her, he set the wine bucket with a bottle of sparking white wine chilling in it on the small white table between them, along with a couple of glasses.

"And I can't believe she took the money." Hanna shook her head, disappointed in her friend. She wasn't sure what she was more disappointed about; that Jackie took the money or that she didn't even tell her the truth about it. "I thought she and Jeremy were getting along great."

Hanna watched as Bo pulled the bottle of wine from the wine bucket and popped the cork. The need for the wine rose up within her, but she pushed it down. He was about to pour some into her glass, but she placed her hand over the glass and shook her head.

"None for me, Bo. Thanks though."

"Suit yourself." After he finished pouring himself a glass he looked up and his grey eyes met her green ones, a dead seriousness in his expression.

"You know, Hanna... I wouldn't have blamed you if you'd decided to take the money."

Hanna frowned, leaning forward in her seat. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean. I wouldn't have blamed you. Two million dollars is a lot of money — for anyone."

"Money isn't what I want."

"I'm not saying you would and I'm not saying I'd allow it to happen. In fact, I'd have hunted you down and brought you kicking and screaming back to my place. And then tied you to the bed so you'd never be able to leave again."

Giggling, Hanna rolled her eyes at him. "Goof."

"But what I mean is that you've been through a lot of bullshit in the last month to be with me, and I have no guarantee it'll be better. Chances are it'll get worse. You've pretty much given up your life to tour with me. Honestly, I do get concerned that you'll eventually get sick of so much time on the road. I know this type of life exhausts you and takes you well out of your comfort zone."

Hanna huffed at him as she accepted a poured glass of wine and motioned toward the inside of the plane. "Yeah, 'cause it's such a horrible life you live."

"Well." Bo sat back in his seat and took a long drink of wine. "Since you've been with me, you've been harassed and drug through the mud by the paparazzi. You've been fired from your job, and then assaulted. Not exactly what someone looks forward to

experiencing when they start a new relationship."

Hanna placed her ice pack on the table and bypassing the wine; she unscrewed the cover of her water bottle and took a long drink. The cool water was refreshing as it slid over her tongue and down her throat. Setting the water bottle on the table, she stood and walked around the table to him. Seeing her approaching he placed his wine on the table, took her hand and pulled her onto his lap.

Slipping her arms around his neck, she snuggled tight to him, nestling her head under his chin. He wrapped his arms around her waist, placing a kiss at her temple. "It's been the best month of my life, Bo, despite all that."

Bo fingered a strand of her red curls, twisting the lock around his finger and then releasing it. "Well, we have a couple weeks before the band goes into the studio to start recording so there's a few things we need to do in that time."

"Oh?" That was news to her. He'd told her just the other day that the next few weeks were going to be obligation-free. Just the two of them having fun. Glancing up, she caught his gaze. "Like what?"

"Well, we're going to go buy you a house, anywhere you want — within reason, a new car and set up a bank account for you with a sizable sum in it just in case things don't work out."

Hanna tensed, her eyes narrowing as she eyed him. "Just in case."

Bo caressed her cheek. "Remember when I told you when we first met to not

overthink things?"

She nodded.

"Don't overthink this, Hanna. Right now you have no money, no job and you're giving up your apartment; the money and job are my fault. I want to set you up so that if you ever get sick of this life, or decide you no longer want to be with me then you can start over."

Hanna pulled back, her frown deepening. "That's insane! I don't want you supporting me like that, Bo. We've discussed this."

"That was before. Things are different now."

Hanna was about to protest, but Bo put a finger up to her lips, taking care not to hurt her cut lower lip, before continuing. "And I'm not doing this for you; I'm doing this for me. I've been thinking and I don't want you staying with me because you have nowhere to go. Believe it or not, but it happens. I want you staying with me because you want to be here and doing this. If you have a house and a little money in the bank to fall back on then I know you're with me because you
want
to be not because you
need
to."

"It's one thing to feed me and let me stay with you, but it's another to buy me a house and give me money."

"I have lots of money, Hanna."

"That's not the point. Money runs out eventually, even the kind of money you have."

She saw his point. She got it. But at the same time having a back-up plan felt like they were setting the relationship up for failure. It just didn't sit well with her.

His expression grew stern. "I'm not negotiating this. Either you choose the house or I have a realtor choose it for you. I thought it would be fun for us to do a little house hunting, but I'm fine either way."

Hanna sighed. There was no arguing with him when he had his mind made up. She'd been learning his stubbornness far surpassed hers. He always got what he wanted —

period. "Fine. Then give me a job. Let me at least earn some of the money you're giving me."

Bo clucked his tongue off of the roof of his mouth in consideration, his expression not letting on his thoughts.

"Well," she prompted.

"What do you want to do?"

"Ummmm." Not expecting to have him even consider it, she was stumped. She shrugged. "Anything... I just want to contribute somehow."

A wicked smile began to form on his lips, a flicker of heat flaring up in his grey eyes.

"Oh, there's lots of ways you can contribute, babes."

She groaned in exasperation, swatting at his shoulder. "Come on. Be serious."

Grabbing her hips, he shifted her so that she straddled him. "Oh, I'm extremely serious." He pulled her tight onto him so she could feel the hard ridge of his shaft between their layers of clothing.

She moaned softly, trying to suppress her desires for him so they could finish the conversation. "This is really important to me. Even if I have to lug sound equipment around, as long as it's something."

He sighed, giving in. "All right. The guys and I are getting together tomorrow afternoon to discuss who we’re getting for a new tour manager, so I'll throw it past them, see if they have any ideas." He captured her chin in his hand and urged her lips down to his, kissing her softly, taking care not to hurt her further. "Happy now?"

"Very. Thank you."

"My pleasure." He glanced down at his watch and glanced up at her, the heat in his eyes returning. "Looks like we have another half hour before we land."

She returned his smile and wiggled in his lap, enticing his rising dick. "That a fact?"

He groaned low and feral. "It is. So I'm thinking you should show me just how grateful you really are."

Sitting back on him, she tugged at his shirt, pulling it up. "My pleasure."

****

wandering around Manhattan by herself while he met with the other guys and decided on a new manager, she gave in, allowing one of his guards to accompany her — but only one.

"I really don't think this is necessary, Tyson," Hanna said, glancing up at Tyson as they exited Bo's building and stepped out onto the busy sidewalk.

Tyson caught her gaze and shrugged. "It's what the boss wants."

Hanna frowned. "Ummmm. Yeah." She took another peek up at Tyson. He was a massive man, at least 6'4" and muscles bulging against the black t-shirt he was wearing.

One of his arms was easily as big as her thigh.

They walked in silence for a few moments, heading toward Chinatown. Hanna was

intent on getting herself a replica Rolex; her cheapie Timex had broken that morning. A month was usually how long she could get out of a watch before breaking the face. Sure, if she asked Bo he would get one for her, but that wasn't the point. He was doing too much for her as far as she was concerned and from what she'd heard the replicas you could get in Chinatown were almost identical.

"So how long have you been working with Bo?"

"'Bout a year."

"Do you like it?"

"It's good."

Hanna looked up at him, eyes narrowed. If he was going to be escorting her around the city, then doing it in silence was not an option, so she decided to try another tactic.

"Not much of a talker, are ya?"

A grin spread across his lips as he glanced back down at her, catching her eyes with his dark brown ones. "Not usually."

"Why?"

His grin widened; she could see his resolve to be formal dissolving. "Because I'm paid to make sure you don't get yourself into trouble."

"Oh come on Tyson, what kind of trouble could I get into? Really?" She gave him a little nudge in the side with her elbow.

"All sorts. Someone could see your picture in the tabloids..."

Hanna grimaced. Flashes of some of the tabloid headlines she'd read the previous day raced through her head. She'd been called everything from a career killer to a fat nobody unworthy of Bo. She was hardly fat, but she supposed if she were compared to a model or actress she was a bit on the thick side and it had never been so apparent to her as when she'd read those headlines.