Page 130 of Rock Out Together
“Russ has a special someone, but you’d need to ask him about that.”
Yes, I just threw my best friend under the bus. I pulled at the neck of my t-shirt and let out a breath I’d been holding now that she had turned her attention on to Russ. Russ wasn’t as polite as I had been. He talked to her about the band and nothing else. He didn’t want the Paparazzi hounding Marcie.
“Oh, come on now.” She leaned forward and placed her hand on my knee, digging in her red painted death daggers. She began to move her hand a littler higher up my leg when I grabbed her wrist. This chick was going to feel me up on national T.V. and in front of Storm, who was sitting on the edge of her seat with wide eyes. Peyton looked at me and winked as she removed her hand from my leg. She was really beginning to piss me off. Her smile had bitch written all over it. “So, Rowdy, are there any other talents you have beyondsinging?” She flipped her bleach blonde hair over her shoulder and recrossed her legs.
“I play piano, sing, play drums and the harmonica.”
“That’s quite a range of instruments,” she agreed before moving on.
“So, tell me guys. I hear there’s a holiday calendar in the works. Can you tell me anything about it and when it will be available?” The audience clapped and screamed. “How can you beat last year’s version?” She reached beside her seat and picked up last year’s version and began flipping through it until she came to mine. I was standing behind the microphone wearing a Santa suit with the hat and no shirt. I also had Christmas lights hanging around my neck.
The crowd clapped as she held it up for all to see. “This is all done for charity. Can you tell us a little about that?”
“The money goes to the local children’s home to help feed and clothe them, things like that. We also provide music lessons if that’s something they’re interested in.”
She began clapping as she looked toward the camera. “That’s wonderful. Don’t you think so?” she said, looking at the crowd. Again, the crowd applauded and right before she cut for a break she said, “You’re all going home with two tickets to see Styx and Stones at the Flamingo next month.” She waved the tickets in the air until the little light on the camera stopped blinking.
When we came back from break, she had more fucking questions. Again, on the Storm topic.
“Rowdy, I somehow don’t think we’ve closed the topic of you and Storm.” She smiled and arched a blonde brow, but her forehead didn’t move. As a matter of fact, her face looked like it had been spray painted. I chuckled out loud without meaning to.
Shit! She tilted her head to the side and asked, “What’s so funny?”
“I’m sorry, but I think we closed that topic at the beginning of the show.” I stood and took off my microphone and walked off the stage. I made my way back to the green room to find Storm already there waiting for me.
“I’d had just about all that shit storm I could take from her,” I told Storm as I wrapped my arms around her warmth and smelled her sweet scent. I pulled my phone from my back pocket and checked the time. She looked at me confused as to why I was checking my phone.
“Are you expecting a call, Rowdy?”
“No, just checking to be sure we still have time for what I have planned.”
“And what might that be?” She snaked her arms around my waist, resting her head against my heart. She was warm, welcoming, and had a love for music and animals. She was perfect.
I took out my phone and text my driver Tucker to bring the car around back. A few moments later a couple of raps on the back door and I grabbed Storm by the hand.
“Let’s go,” I demanded, leading her to the door where Tucker was waiting with a blacked-out Tahoe. I helped Storm inside before I slid in beside her.
“Rowdy? Where are we going?” She looked at me all excitement on her beautiful face.
“Do you trust me?”
“You know I do,” she agreed.
“I love you, Storm, and I think you love me, too.” She smiled and gave her head a nod.
“I do. I love you very much, Rowdy.”
“Let’s get married.”
The smile slid from her face replaced with a look of confusion and concern.
“But my family.”
“Fuck your family. Your dad hasn’t called once to congratulate on how you’ve played or in winning the AMA. That’s a big deal,” I said. “Let’s show the world we love each other. No more hiding our relationship from anyone. No more controlling father.” I told her. “Marry me and let me give you everything you want.” I cupped her cheeks in my hands and leaned in for a kiss. When a smile overtook her face, I knew she was all in. “Tucker, take us to the little white chapel.”
“Yes, sir.” The drive there took about twenty minutes because of all the traffic and people crossing the street where they weren’t supposed to slowed us down, but it gave me enough time to make a few calls.
We rolled to a stop in front of the little white church decorated in white streamers, flowers and lights.
