Page 7 of Good Girls Don't Date Rock Stars (Rock Canyon, Idaho 2)

Gemma closed the door and as she leaned back against the solid wood, it was hard for her to wrap her head around the serendipity of the past hour. She had come to Vegas for a little reading and relaxation, and now she was going to lunch with the man who had once been her whole world.

And she had no idea what she was going to say to him.

Of all the hotels in all the cities in all the world, Travis Bowers had to walk into this one.

TRAVIS HAD TRAVELED the world, was recognized by people every day, and women threw themselves at him constantly. Having perfected the ability to let nothing surprise him, he was known by his manager, handlers, and tour mates as having nerves of steel, even onstage.

But seeing Gemma again had rocked him to his core.

He’d grown up in the foster-care system after his mother had overdosed when he was five, and the only thing that had gotten him through eight crappy foster homes and schools had been music.

Until junior year, when he’d been moved to Rock Canyon and gone to the library at his new school to get a book for his English class. He’d asked a tall brunette with glasses for help, and Gemma had hooked him with her mossy hazel eyes and sweet smile. Travis had never had a problem getting girls, but he wasn’t the type to get serious . . . he’d never stayed in one place long enough.

But when Gemma had held out her hand and welcomed him to Rock Canyon, he’d been consumed by the need to find out everything he could about her. Most of the people he talked to had either called her a bookworm or “the fat girl in the library,” which had really pissed him off. The only helpful information he could get about her had come from his lab partner, Michael Stevens, a scrawny kid with long hair and glasses, who was a crack-up. They’d gotten on well which didn’t happen often for him, and he’d told Mike about the girl in the library.

“Gemma Carlson? Sophomore with glasses? She’s a nice girl; tutors kids after school, if you need some extra help,” Mike had said, giving him a sly smile.

Travis had taken the information and run with it, setting up an appointment with her the next week. When he’d walked into the library and their eyes met, her wide grin had been inviting and as warm as a fire, drawing him to her.

“Hey again,” she’d said as he’d approached her.

“Hey yourself. I hear you’re the girl to see if you need some help in English,” he said, coming around the table to sit next to her.

When they’d finished, he’d signed up again, and the more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to be near her. Still, he knew he wasn’t the right guy for her, not as a boyfriend, anyway. He was a mess of teenage hormones and other, deeper issues, but Gemma’s twinkling eyes made him forget about the past. She made him feel like maybe he wasn’t completely broken.

When he finally asked her to his first gig, she’d shown up with her best friend, Gracie McAllister. Gracie was a petite blonde with a big personality, and he’d liked her boisterousness, especially when he introduced Gracie to Mike and the two of them started sparring verbally. He’d come off the stage after his set and Gemma had given him a bear hug tight enough to crack a couple of ribs.

“That was amazing, Trav!”

Trav. No one had ever given him a nickname before.

After that night, the four of them had become a close-knit group, and for the first time in his life, Travis knew what it was like to have good friends. But the really special times were when it was just Gemma and him, when he told her things he’d never said to another person, or she read his mood without him having to say anything. She was the best friend he’d ever had, and he’d tried to resist messing it up, tried not to feel anything else for her, but it was inevitable.

He was meant to love Gemma Carlson.

Over a year and a half of friendship later, it took being dumped before prom to help him get over his reservations and ask Gemma out. Throughout the night, he hadn’t been able to look away from her, finding himself making excuses to touch her hand and dancing as much as possible, just to hold her against him. It was during Lonestar’s “Amazed” that he’d looked into those gorgeous eyes and dipped his head to kiss her. It had been like getting caught in an electric storm: shocks flew through him every time their lips touched. They hadn’t stopped kissing, even after the song changed.

For four months they’d been blissfully happy, talking about their future together and their dreams, all the way until he’d been signed to Off Road Records and left on tour. He’d told her it didn’t matter how far away he was, his heart was with her, and it seemed like she’d believed him.

And then Phoenix had happened.

As Travis exited the elevator, he was brought back to the here and now. For some reason, fate had brought Gemma back to him, and he was going to do everything he could to make her forgive him. When she’d left him, he’d been hurt and angry. He knew his past relationships weren’t the stuff of fairy tales, but with Gemma it had been different. He’d loved her. He would never have hurt her.

If only she’d believed that, where would they be?

No use going over the might-have-beens. Concentrate on now.

He stood in front of Gemma’s door and rolled his shoulders back before knocking.

Gemma answered a few seconds later, wearing a simple blue top and a denim skirt. The neckline of her shirt dipped into a v, and he had a hard time not looking at the generous view of her breasts. His mouth kicked up into a smile when he thought about all the times he’d had his hands on them. If Gemma only knew the direction his mind had taken, she’d slam the door in his face. Again.

“You look great,” he said, holding out his arm to her. “Shall we?”

Her cheeks turned pink and she said, “Thank you.”

He was a little disappointed when she didn’t take his arm, but he tried to take it in stride.

Patience, Bowers. It’s been ten years. It’s gonna take longer than ten minutes to regain her trust.

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