Page 157 of Dirty Rock

“I can catch the earlier flight, maybe,” I offered, giving into my needy man without much of a fight whatsoever. If he was pathetic, I was even more so. “I’m due to land at Heathrow with the boys at 3:00 p.m., but I heard one of the runners saying they were catching the 9:20 a.m. flight back from Berlin.”

“Don’t tease me.”

“Teasing is for girls. I’m a woman. I prefer to promise.”

“How do you do it?”

“What?” I chuckled.

“Make me so damn hard with nothing more than a phone call about flights and getting back earlier.”

“It’s a skill I’ll never share with anyone. That way, I get to keep you to myself.”

“Always, baby.” I heard the smirk in his voice. Those two words always made my belly flutter, and now I wasn’t sure if it was the baby reacting to its daddy’s voice, or me reacting to Rhett. “Okay, distract me before I end up getting my dick out in front of Coops, and he thinks I’m daydreaming of him instead of you.”

I laughed… again… and went out to the front of the stage as I told Rhett about my day. I told him how Front Row Frogs were due to meet with a big German producer who wanted to speak to them about their next album before their gig tonight. I wasn’t supposed to be in on the meeting, but I was going at their request. Something their female manager wasn’t too happy about. She clearly saw me as a threat yet seemed slightly obsessed with the fact I was datingtheRhett Ryan, too.

“She’s probably jealous,” Rhett said down the phone. “I’m quite the catch.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

“So, you’re staying there for the band’s gig tonight. You sure I can’t persuade you to come home, like, I don’t know… now?”

“I love you, Sinatra, but I’m staying for the band’s gig.”

“Fine,” he grumbled. “Don’t fall in love with any other rock stars.”

“One is more than enough.”

“See ya later, baby mama.”

“See you soon, baby daddy.”

“Love you.”

“Yeah?”

“Always, baby.”

The rest of the night seemed to drag, and even though I was in a position that thousands and thousands of girls, boys, women and men would give up a limb to be in, I found myself completely and utterly bored.

Nothing beats the first time, and watching Youth Gone Wild rise to fame from scratch had been a fresh experience—one I’d relished. Now, even though I believed in Front Row Frogs, getting them the same attention was proving tiresome and slow-moving. Maybe the pregnancy was taking its toll on me more than I was realising. I couldn’t be a hundred percent sure, but all I wanted to do while dining in the nicest restaurants and staying in beautiful hotels was…

Go home.

To my little yellow cottage, while trying to ignore the rotting blue mess just a few doors down that Rhett never stayed in. The Ugly Money Pit I already knew he’d never part with.

The thought of it all made me smile to myself as the crowds filtered into the venue to see the latest up-and-coming act. The one fortunate thing my name had gained from the press attention was credibility. I was damn good at what I did, and for the first time ever, a publicist was being recognised for their work.

I’d requested a front row seat of the performance, leaving the band’s manager to tackle things backstage. Being pregnant garnered certain privileges, and I was making the most of them before the whole world found out Rhett and I were having a baby. For now, only those who had to know, knew, and I was safe in a bubble of protection I never wanted to leave. At roughly five months, though, time was running out. There were only so many black, baggy tops I could keep wearing.

I settled in next to two burly security guards who were acting as casual fans in case things got out of control. The venue we were in had the capacity to hold roughly three thousand, and for this band, it was a big deal.

Halo opened up with the first song, and it was good. He owned the stage the way a frontman should; with ease, charm, and a voice decent enough to be known for the music rather than the smirking lips and twinkling eyes.

I took notes on my phone as I watched them all do their thing. A publicist should know their clients’ weaknesses so they could hide them under strengths. I made notes of those, too.

As much as I loved and believed in the guys on stage, they didn’t set me alight the way Youth Gone Wild had and still did. Something was missing. An edge. A true belief in the music they performed. Halo was the only one who demanded your attention up there. The others looked how I felt.

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