Page 29 of Rock Star

Jake appeared before the others arrived; he was accompanied by a photographer, who leaned against the bar, his camera at the ready.

“So, Phoenix,” Jake said, perching next to me. “Axel just called a band meeting. Told us about his problems coming up with new material for the next album. He said you inspired him when you two were practicing at his place in LA and he asked if we’d mind you hanging out together.”

I nodded—my mouth had gone completely dry—and my heart thudded against my ribs. What if they’d voted Axel’s request down?

“Are you okay with this” Jake fixed me with a stern look. “He hasn’t put any pressure on you, I hope?”

“No pressure,” I managed to say despite the lump of relief in my throat. “I’m totally cool and think I might even learn something about song writing from him.”

I was winging it with the last statement. I’d never written a song in my life. I was a singer, first and foremost. But I’d be pumped if I could get some insight into the process from Axel at the same time as…

My cheeks heated and I turned away from Jake.

The photographer had sprung to life and was aiming his camera toward the entrance to the pool area.

I spun around and my mouth popped into an O.

Holy crap.

So many abs.

And muscles.

And hotness.

The guys were stalking toward us in their swimsuits and their ripped bodies were freaking amazing.

But it was Axel who took my breath.

As ever.

He was everything.

And he was mine.

Whoa, where had that come from? He wasn’t mine. He hadn’t even boned me yet, let alone made any commitment. This was just an interlude.

On both of our parts.

He came up, biting down on his lip and unleashing his sexy smile. “Did Jake tell you the good news, Firebird?”

“Yup.”

I tore my gaze away. My eyes had been feasting on him unashamedly.

But, when he started speaking Spanish to the photographer, I almost self-combusted it was so freaking hot.

I glanced down at my bikini top, at my peaked nipples under the thin material, and crossed my arms over my chest.

The shoot proceeded and we spent about an hour posing for the photographer.

Me with all four band members.

Me with each of them on our own.

Me with Axel, his arm around me, his hot body pressed against mine.

I melded into him—I couldn’t resist it—and he grabbed a towel from the sunlounger next to us, wrapped it around his waist. “You’ve given me a boner, Firebird,” he croaked into my ear. “I need a cold shower.”

“Oops,” I giggled, moving away from him as he laughed with me.

Finally, this part of the shoot ended and we went to our rooms to get ready for the next session... dinner in the hotel’s Michelin star restaurant, followed by an evening in the nightclub.

Except, I was dreading the last part of the arrangement. Spanish movie stars would be joining us, and I knew what that meant.

Axel would have to act his rock star role, and I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from feeling jealous.

Dammit.14A DJ was mixing tracks in his booth at the back of the club, blending the songs seamlessly to achieve a perfect beat. He wasn’t one of those blokes who did nothing but push buttons. This DJ was a turntablist, a musician, and he was performing at his console… encouraging people to dance and have a good time.

Only I wasn’t one of them.

I rubbed the back of my neck and pressed my lips together, staring at Firebird across the room. She didn’t realize how beautiful and sexy she was in that slinky black backless dress, how every man here wanted to be that bastard Spanish actor posing with his arm around her.

I pulled my gaze away from them, sank back into the plush couch and downed the last of the whiskey in my glass.

Mercedes, the sultry dark-haired actress I’d been paired off with, pouted. “Quieres bailar?”

I didn’t want to dance.

Not with her.

Miguel, our photographer, with whom I was by now on first-name terms, lifted his camera expectantly, but I ignored him.

Foxy, whose movie star had offered him a joint and had been escorted from the club by Jake, grabbed me in a headlock and ruffled my hair. “If you don’t want her, mind if I do the honors, mate? I’m in the mood for some pussy.”

I folded my arms. “Sure. Go ahead.”

“What’s got you so pissed?” Jake asked from where he was sitting on the other side of me. He clinked the ice in his glass.

“Nothing,” I muttered.

Jake was my oldest friend, but sometimes it was as if I didn’t know him at all.

Especially since the tragedy of Ella’s death.

He’d turned into a man on a mission, a mission to keep us all on the straight and narrow.

How was I going to put up with his micromanaging over the next several weeks when it was even now getting on my nerves? Jake had never joined in our hell raising in the past. He’d always said one of us needed to be the grownup. But now we were behaving like sensible adults, more or less, I just wished he’d lighten up. It was like he didn’t trust us, and that really got on my nerves.

---