- Home
- Kristen Hope Mazzola
Steele_A Standalone Rock Star Romance Page 2
Steele_A Standalone Rock Star Romance Read online
Page 2
Sitting in the airport, waiting for my plane to start the dreadful boarding process, I ignored call after call from Mitch. His goofy grin kept popping up on my screen as the stupid cell vibrated in my hand. My heart thumped in my ears as another message was left.
Finally, I listened to the last message: “Cali! You better pick up your damn phone!”
Holding my breath, I called him back—it was the least I could do at that point.
“Hey.” I sighed into the phone when I heard the line connect.
“Hey? That’s all I fucking get is a damn ‘hey’?” he roared, rage pouring out. “What the fuck is going on, Cali?”
“It hasn’t been working…I haven’t been happy for a while.” I hated the tears that rolled down my cheeks. I felt so selfish for everything I was doing.
“That is news to me! For crying out loud, we just bought this damn house because you wanted to! Where are you? We need to talk this out face to face. You at least owe me that.”
“That’s not happening. I’m not coming home,” I whispered.
“What in the ever-loving fuck is going on right now?” I heard a large crash like he was kicking something over.
“I’m getting on a plane,” I admitted.
Mitch gasped and paused for a couple of seconds before muttering, “What?”
The automated airport announcements and travelers talking all around me started to make me even more nervous as I finally told Mitch the truth. “I’m heading to Chicago.”
“That’s it then? You get to decide that we’re done? I thought we were in this together. When the fuck did you get so selfish?”
My heart broke even more, but I couldn’t turn around and run back home. What was done was done, and I knew in making this decision, Mitch and I would never even be able to get back to the friends we once were, and that was for the best.
“I am so sorry, Mitch. Please, just try to find it in your heart to forgive me.”
“Fuck you, you damn heartless bitch.”
With that declaration, he hung up.
Sitting in the world’s most uncomfortable chair in the Orlando Airport, I crumbled. As the passengers started to file into line to get on the plane, I was frozen.
What if Maverick doesn’t want to see me?
What if I’m making the biggest mistake of my life?
What if I’m wrong about all of this?
It was time for me to test fate and not look back, but all I could think about was Mitch and how terribly I had just destroyed him.
Chapter 2
Just Breathe
Maverick
I didn’t know what to think with Cali sitting shotgun in my car. I didn’t know if it was crazy or a terrible decision, but all I wanted was to see it through. I did know that Cali’s grand gesture had kick-started my resolve to believe in some sliver of a happy ending, but it also scared the ever-loving shit out of me.
As our fingers intertwined while I drove us along the busy Chicago streets, my mind skipped to the one place I always knew I had a home: Mountain Breath.
“I think we both could use a drink,” I declared, gripping her tiny hand a little tighter.
“Holy fuck, you’ve never been more right.”
At a light, I shot off a text to the band’s group message.
Me: Cali just showed up in town.
Rodney: She called me last night. Glad she found you.
Me: Fuck you for not telling me.
Rodney: And ruin the epic surprise? Eh, you’ll forgive me.
Dane: What in the damn world? What are you guys doing?
Colt: Holy fuck! Is this a good thing?
Me: We’re going to Mountain Breath—it is Thursday, after all. I think we should crash open mic night. And yes, it’s a VERY good thing…well, I think so at least.
Dane: Fallon has to stay in with little Leilani, but I can get away for a bit.
Colt: Already getting in the car.
Rodney: Heck yes! See everyone in ten.
Opening Cali’s door, I held her hand as she climbed out of the 1970 Ford Falcon Dane and I had restored at the same time he was working on The Judge. It was a hobby that kept our minds busy while trying to get through what had happened to Leilani. Our cars were just another part of our healing process. My dad had decided we needed some way to channel the aggression that came with our loss. Most dads would have made us take up karate, but I was already in boxing classes. One thing my dad knew about both of the young men he was raising was that it was more about keeping our minds and hands busy, that way the aggression didn’t have a chance to surface. We had to build something to help us deal with what had been broken.
Hand in hand, I led Cali into my family’s bar. We were greeted by the kind smile of the man who’d raised me.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in.” Marty Steele was one hell of a man, and he knew if I was showing my face in his place, there was a good reason.
Walking around the back of the bar, I felt the glaring eyes of people who were about to recognize me. In the time The Hysterics had been touring, our fame had erupted, and that had groupies flocking to my favorite watering hole when fans knew we were back in town. Girls would show up hoping to get a glimpse of one or all of us, and we were about to give them a big shock.
“Dad, this is Cali. Cali, meet my old man, Marty Steele.”
“Hey, who are you calling old?” My dad shoved my shoulder before grabbing Cali’s free hand. “It is a pleasure finally meeting you, Cali. My son has told me wonderful things about you, but he definitely didn’t do your beauty justice.”
“Always such a charmer, Pop.” I shot my dad a knowing smile as I poured Cali and I each a shot of Jameson.
“I’m glad to be here, sir.”
My dad shook his head as he chuckled. “It’s Marty—we’re not formal around these parts.”
“All right, Marty. I hear you make some of the best drinks in the state.”
“What’s your poison?” he asked with a jokingly sinister sneer peeking through his gray whiskers.
“Surprise me. Whatever you want to make for me, I’m drinking.”
“A surprise is coming right up.” Dad turned to me while grabbing bottles out of the speed rail. “Should I grab your old guitar from the back?”
“I got it.” Grabbing the Knob Creek off the back shelf, I handed it to one of the best bartenders I had ever known. “Just make two of whatever it is you’re concocting, but make it with this.”
My dad tossed a clean bar rag over his shoulder. “As you wish.”
“Well well well,” a familiar voice cackled from across the bar.
“Jack Robertson, as I live and breathe. It’s been a while, man.” I leaned over the bar to high-five one of my regulars from when I was putting myself through college slinging drinks behind that very bar.
“How’ve you been?” he asked before sipping on his usual old fashioned.
“Can’t complain now that this little lady surprised me today.” I winked at Cali as a light dusting of blush deepened to dark crimson. “Where’s the ol’ ball and chain?” I asked Jack.
“Work trip, like usual. Figured since the wife’s away, might as well play a bit and belly up to this bar for a long overdue tasty treat.”
“Sticking around for the show?” I asked him.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Seems like I picked the right night to stop in.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Dad added in with a little wink.
“Cali? Wanna grab a table by the stage? I’ll be right back.” I pecked her cheek as light strawberry sprinkled over her high cheekbones.
“Sure.” She smiled sweetly as she made her way to the back of the restaurant.
Turning to me, my dad’s eyebrow raised. In a hushed voice, my old man stated, “I thought she lived in Florida.”
As I started to make my way to his office, I glanced back at him. “She does. It was good to see you again, Jack.” I waved goodbye to my old patron.
&
nbsp; “Same to you, Mav.” Jack raised his glass to me.
Taking the first guitar I’d ever owned off of the wall, I stared at all the pictures lining the walls of the small back office I had spent more hours in than I could count. There were pictures of Dane and me working behind the bar, group shots of the band playing our first shows on the tiny stage we had built at Mountain Breath, pictures of the first and only dance I ever took Leilani to. My heart exploded with every feeling possible: happiness, sorrow, joy, pain, love.
By the time I made it the table Cali had secured for us, the guys had already joined her. Taking my seat, I grabbed her hand.
“If you want to leave at any point, just say the word,” I whispered in her ear.
“I think this unplanned distraction is just what I need right now,” she responded before kissing me on my unshaved cheek.
Right as Dane was about to ask Cali a question, a shrill came from a woman sitting at the table next to us.
And so it begins.
“Holy fucking shit! You’re The Hysterics!” She leapt up from her chair, nearly knocking over the table in front of her.
The rest of the customers started speculating loudly around us as girls started to rush around, jumping and hyperventilating as they realized the woman who was now nearly in tears was correct.
“We’ll be back, sweetheart.” I squeezed Cali’s hand quickly, slinging the strap of my guitar over my shoulder.
Rodney was the first to jump on stage, grabbing the mic as the rest of us pushed through the horde of gushing fans, smiling and shaking their hands as they pulled at our clothes and arms like ravenous beasts. I wasn’t used to the outpouring of fan love yet. It was weird to me that we’d gone from a garage band barely making ends meet to an overnight sensation and nearly being household names. I felt like a regular guy with a really cool job most of the time, not someone’s celebrity crush or a teenager’s wet dream come to life.
“Sorry for crashing open mic night. We promise to not take up too much of the stage time tonight,” Rodney began as Dane fixed the drum set that was already waiting for him while Colt and I tuned our acoustics quickly. “We’re The Hysterics. We got our start in this bar, and I hope after we play a couple quick songs for you, everyone will stick around, get sloshed, and listen to the rest of the talent lined up for you this evening. What do you want to play boys?”
I shrugged. “Guess we should have thought about that before we jumped up here. Any requests?”
I looked out into the crowd and heard one of the fan-girls yell out, “An Unnamed Longing!”
“Sounds good to me,” Dane responded before starting to count us off.
Rodney’s hands gripped the mic as my lyrics poured from his heart. It was the perfect song to start with, and a perfect one for Cali to hear.
What is in the past should stay there
An untrue statement in waiting
There are times when remembering is bliss
First kiss, first breath, first time
Don’t close your eyes to happiness once seen and banter along
An understanding should come
Bittersweet is the taste of a memory
Hold them in high regard, esteem them
It is your foundation, your core, your person
Where you became you
The blood that circulates beats from love
A never-ending cycle of making memories
The entire crowd was swaying and singing along as the song ended. They exploded into cheers and hollers as I called out, “Just Breathe!”
Without missing a beat, the rest of the guys followed my lead as we dove into the second song for the night. I got lost in playing—the feeling of the strings under my callused fingertips, the euphoria of the music, the intoxication of passion. It swarmed into me, crashing into every cell in my body. The song was one I had written right after I met Cali for the first time all those years ago on the side of a mountain. I didn’t know it then, but it was perfect and fitting, another scribbled woe of sorrow that helped mend my brokenness before I truly knew how fucking broken I really was.
Standing there,
It all crumbles and unravels
Wrinkling and slipping
The voices screaming but the melody praying
Silently, I wish for none of this
Fame and fortune is eating me alive
An empty stage is calling
Where my heart can truly begin living
A river flowing from my fingers, vibrating the strings
Loving and knowing there is more to life
Close my eyes, let it be, and just breathe
As everything else crumbles around me
“Thank you, Mountain Breath. Without all of you, we wouldn’t be the band we are today! Don’t forget to tip your servers and bartenders well. Without their help, we wouldn’t sound nearly as good to your ears.” Rodney holstered the mic in its stand before saluting the crowd like he did after every gig.
We all took bows before hopping off the stage and making our way back to the table where Cali was waiting. My dad climbed up onto the small wooden platform, clapping and grinning from ear to ear.
“Nice little surprise, huh folks?” His raspy voice rang out through the bar. “I know they aren’t the easiest act to follow, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little biased, but give it up for four of the best sons a dad could ever ask for!”
The pride that boomed from my old man’s chest as everyone clapped and carried on was something I would never forget. As the next act took the stage, we finally were able to just relax with some of the best company around. I sat in awe of Cali as she smiled and laughed with my best friends. Her world was crumbling around her and instead of falling into the wreckage from the bomb she had set off only hours before, she chose to enjoy herself and revel in it all. She had made the hard choice for herself, but also for me. I wasn’t going to let that be in vain.
“So, Cali,” Dane began while clearing his throat. “To what do we owe this pleasant surprise?”
Cali’s eyes locked on mine as she answered my best friend. “I decided it was time to finally take my life back, and the first step was telling this tall asshole over here how I actually feel about him.”
I dramatically gripped my chest as the guys laughed. “Ouch. That stings a little.”
“Don’t go soft on me now, Steele.” She gave me a quick wink before slamming down the last few drops of her beverage.
Chapter 3
Deals and Decisions
Cali
Walking out of the bar, Maverick and I said goodbye to his bandmates. As I watched them walk away, the gravity of my situation was starting to pull me back down to earth. I still didn’t know what the fuck I was actually doing.
“I guess this is goodnight.” I tucked myself into Maverick’s side, holding on for dear life.
“It doesn’t have to be. You can stay with me if you want, but no pressure.” His chin rested on the top of my head as I silently begged my legs to stop shaking.
“All my stuff is back at the hotel I stayed in last night. I should probably head back there.” I didn’t want to, but I knew if I went home with Mav, all bets would be off. I didn’t want to be that girl who jumped from one man’s bed into another. I couldn’t do that to Mitch. It just didn’t seem fair.
“I get it. Will I see you tomorrow?” he asked as his chest deflated.
“I have a flight first thing in the morning,” I admitted.
“You’re going back to him, aren’t you?” As the words stained the air, my heart sank. I hated that he doubted me so quickly.
“I lit that bridge on fire the moment I told Mitch I was coming here to see you. There’s no going back, not that I even want to. I was being completely honest with you earlier: I want to be with you. I wouldn’t have come all the way up here like this if I didn’t.”
Standing on the dimly lit sidewalk, wrapped in Maverick’s arms felt more real than any moment I had spent with M
itch. There was no way in hell I could ever risk losing that.
“How about this: we are getting on the bus at four in the afternoon, and if you’re there with your bags, I’ll be happier than a pig in shit. If you’re not, then I will just follow your lead. I was honest earlier with you, too, though—I do think we need to be together, like actually together to make this work, at least for right now. I don’t know if long distance is a good way to start things off.”
I let his words sink in. I’d come this far, and I wanted to keep going. I had already gone so far out of my comfort zone, why not just keep pushing my limits?
“You got yourself a deal.”
As Maverick’s lips grazed mine, guilt crept in. I knew it was going to take a while to get over that, but I hated how much it plagued me.
Back in my hotel room, I paced around the small space, gripping my phone. I wanted to call Maverick, beg him to come and just hold me all night, but that would be the wrong choice. So, I called Mags instead.
“I have been dying for an update,” my best friend shouted into the phone without even saying hello.
“He wants me to go on tour with them, tomorrow.”
“What? Are you going to do it?” she shrilled.
I could hear Walker’s tired voice in the background: “If you’re going to shriek, please get the fuck out of bed. I have to be up at the ass crack of dawn.”
“Fine, grumpy. Get your damn beauty rest,” Mags responded to her boyfriend.
I waited until I heard her shut their bedroom door before continuing our conversation. “I think I’m going to do it.”
“I think you just became my hero.” She giggled.
“I mean, I did come up here to be with Maverick, and if I have to do it on a tour bus with a crying baby, Fallon, Serena, and the rest of the band, fuck it.”
“Time to spread those wings, little birdy.”