James Karolyn -The Longest Note -

Welcome back to the world of Brothers of Rock! A series built on love, life, and rock n’ roll romance! The bestselling series continues with rock band, Willow Son! Meet the band! Colby (lead singer) Jett (guitar)

Van (bass) Ryker (guitar) Brantley (drums) _____________

AmazingBooks

Sign up for the official Karolyn James newsletter and you’ll never miss a new release! Sign up here – www.tinyurl.com/KJSignup Stay social with Karolyn James here...

www.KarolynWrites.com On Twitter @KarolynWrites https://www.facebook.com/Ka

Amazon author page: http://amzn.to/1N2DEXp

NOW... are you ready for some… BROTHERS OF ROCK!

THE LONGEST NOTE (A Brothers of Rock – WILLOW SON – novel) It was supposed to a ‘reality show’ date… but when the cameras turned off, that’s when reality began. Bad boy rockstar guitarist for Willow Son, Ryker, takes a break from the band only to return to find out that the tour has been officially cancelled and the band’s future is in jeopardy. Offering some new acoustic material, the record company pushes back, wanting the

band to try a new way to get new fans. The result is a chance for one fan to win a date with Ryker. * Struggling to survive, Alyson lives with her rich best friend, hoping better days are awaiting. One night, on a whim, her best friend secretly signs her up to win a date with the guitarist from Willow Son. It’s supposed to be a joke, but then Alyson learns that she’s in the top ten to win the date. That puts her on stage after a Willow Son concert, staring at the sexy guitarist, knowing there’s no chance he’ll actually pick her. But he does.

Alyson is not meant for the limelight and Ryker can’t get enough of it. The quiet, shy girl and the wild, bad boy rockstar is better left a fantasy, but once reality and romance barges its way into their lives, Ryker and Alyson soon realize that there’s more at stake than just an album and a TV show… it’s their hearts.

(1) Not all roads had real destinations. Sometimes the act of just moving, cruising along the twists and turns, starts and stops, was all the soul needed to find a little comfort. Sometimes that was just enough. Then that same road would lead back home, wherever it truly was. Other times, the road, the no real destinations, well, they were home. Ryker sat at the corner of a bar, a black cap on his head, the bill pulled down. He wore a black hoodie, jeans, and kept to himself, not wanting to bust his own cover. The last thing he needed

was someone to recognize him. Then all hell would break loose. He was far away from the rest of the band and had no security here. Not that his life should have depended on security. Then again, he was the one trying his best to hide and not be seen. That’s my choice. I just needed to get away for a minute. The road was big, which was good, because everything else felt small. Time and technology did strange things, which wasn’t always a bad thing, considering the way Willow Son had managed to become viral sensations more than once in their careers. It seemed ever since the band hooked up with Portis and his record company,

things were harder than ever before. Cutting a tour short was like slicing an artery for Ryker. He was meant to be on tour, on stage, playing music. Yeah, there was nothing wrong with being in the studio, writing new music, but Ryker didn’t operate on deadlines. He refused to do it. Music, art, even life wasn’t run on deadlines. You just did it. It was there for the taking and you grabbed it. Finishing off another beer, Ryker slid the glass to the end of the bar. From the corner of his eye, he caught someone staring at him. He started to turn a little, not wanting to get made right now. A few seconds later, a woman approached him. She took the empty seat next to him.

The bartender had a fresh beer for Ryker. He reached for it and the woman put her hand to his wrist. “Why do you look so familiar?” she asked. “Don’t know,” Ryker said. “Do you mind?” She opened her hand. “Sorry. I just… can you take your hat off for a second?” “No.” “You’re sitting here all alone. Bad break up or something?” “No.” Ryker gritted his teeth. He hated

ditching on the band like he’d done. He hated ignoring their calls and texts. He hated knowing Portis must have been riding their ass, demanding to know where Ryker was. More than all that, greedy as it was, Ryker hated to be pushing away a beautiful woman like the one next to him. He knew damn well if he took his hat off, she’d realize how she knew him. He was the freaking lead guitarist for Willow Son! “You don’t feel like talking, do you?” “No,” Ryker said again. “Sorry. I’m just having a beer and heading home.” “Where’s home?”

Ryker rolled his eyes. Of course someone would be flirting with him right now. Such a wicked good temptation and there really wasn’t much he could do about it. Or maybe… “You like music, darling?” Ryker asked. “Love it.” “Know who’s playing tonight?” “No idea. Some acoustic stuff, I guess.” Ryker grabbed his beer and pushed off the barstool. “Get in the front row. You never know what could happen.” That was all Ryker had to say. It

was all he really could say. When he showed up the look on the face of the bar owner had been pretty priceless. Not that the guy could have really taken advantage of the celebrity at the bar though. Then again, all it would take was a few pictures and texts for the world to know that Ryker from Willow Son was playing a solo acoustic show. The bar would be packed in no time, buying drinks, cheering for Ryker. But that’s not why he was there. It wasn’t about fame. It was about music. Going back to the basics - a guitar, a voice, a bar. That’s where the greatest bands were built. Where the greatest songs got their first plays. Where the

road met with heartache, booing, wild nights, and big dreams. There was something beautiful and organic about a guitar, a voice, and a few people who wanted to hear the music. Ryker slipped along the back of the wall along the bar. To his right there was a small stage. A single purple light shined down on a barstool, a mic stand, and an acoustic guitar. There was a carpet on the stage, some kind of old beat up thing. Even that had beauty to it. Imagine all the feet that stood on it. Some people who went on to become famous. Some who didn’t. But everyone who stood there had a message through their music. Good or bad, it all mattered.

He drank his beer and slipped toward the EMPLOYEES ONLY door and opened it. There was a kitchen, an office, and a small corridor that led to the stage. Standing against a wall, Ryker put a foot up and drank his beer. He thought of two things. What was the rest of the band doing right now? Still looking for him? Or trying out new guitarists at the command of Portis? Second, and most important, what the hell was he supposed to sing about in ten minutes? **

“You need anything?” the bar owner, Chuck, asked Ryker. “Another beer,” Ryker said. “You have a ride home?” “No. I’ll be fine. One beer won’t kill me.” “But six, seven, ten will.” Ryker grinned. “Long time at this?” “Longer than I care to admit.” “Guitarist?” “How’d you guess?” “I have a knack,” Ryker said. “Played in a country band, of all things. We were doing our thing. Had a van. Had gigs. Had an image. Had interest from a record company.”

“What happened?” “A woman tore us up,” Chuck said. “Happened so fast. I ended up working right here. Washing dishes. Playing gigs. I settled in and let my little country star dream weigh on me. Then I smartened up a little, went to school at night, and was able to buy the place.” “Good for you, man.” “Hey, what about you? I mean, you’re a rockstar. You’re too famous to be here, Ryker. This is a little strange for me.” “I’m just taking a mental vacation from it all. The lights and noise isn’t all perfect, Chuck. Trust me.”

“But the paycheck and women have to help that a little.” “Fair enough,” Ryker said with a grin. “Mind if I go play this gig?” “Have at it, Ryker. For the record, I’m a huge Willow Son fan.” “Thank you.” Ryker turned and charged for the stage. Walking across, alone, the purple spotlight hitting him, it was a new and wild feeling. He had been used to tens of thousands of people cheering, backing music playing, the lights off, the band gathering together to get pumped up. And it was always Colby who spoke first, yelling, screaming, asking a question. Whatever the hell he felt like doing.

Then Ryker would hit an open chord and let his guitar scream through the arena. This was far different. Ryker grabbed the guitar and put it over his shoulder. He played a G chord. Then a D. Then a C. His fingers transitioned smoothly, without even looking. It was all fluid for him, like someone who could switch languages in the middle of a sentence. He leaned forward at the mic. “Hey.” “Hey!” a few people yelled back. There was a murmur of conversation from some of the high top tables and the bar. There were maybe twenty people actually looking at Ryker. He kept his hat down low, hiding his

face. He stood for a few seconds in silence. Someone yelled out, “Play a song!” “I will,” Ryker said. He shut his eyes and started to strum. Some of the best Willow Son songs were originally written on acoustic guitars. On tour buses, the hood of cars, in the back of a van, or just chilling in an apartment or garage. A few chords into the song, more people started to look at Ryker. He started to sing, enjoying a slowed down, cut up Willow Son song. After the second chorus and bridge,

there was supposed to be a solo. Ryker didn’t have another guitarist with him though so he had to improvise. That meant playing the root notes with the guitar pick and then plucking notes higher up the neck, giving a really good sound to the song. Ryker played it over and over, moving up and down the neck. He was the one in control of the stage and the song. Once finished, Ryker sang the chorus two more times and then ended the song. There was a decent amount of applause. “Thanks,” Ryker said. He then adjusted his hat, his guitar pick between

his fingers. He put his head back, loving the light on his face. Shutting his eyes again, Ryker pulled the hat off his head. He looked out to the people and watched as they started to realize who he was. “Yeah, you ready for more?” There was more applause. “You ready for more Willow Son?” People cheered and whistled. Now there were phones being pulled out. Pictures taken. Posted online. Texts sent. Ryker looked right and nodded to Chuck, who stood with a beer in his hand off the side of the stage. Ryker really hoped Chuck was ready for this…

** Jett strummed the last chord and let it ring out. He sat on an amp that wasn’t turned on. Next to him Brantley was messing around with a piano. Colby had a notebook on his lap. Van was running through some bass lines. Out in the hallway he heard the voices of Harry and Portis going back and forth. Talking about budgets, studio time, what to do about Ryker. It wasn’t the first time Ryker had taken a little time to himself. Hell, they all had done it. It really wasn’t that big of a deal. The difference was the celebrity status that came with it. There were two guitar magazine

interviews that were canceled since one of the guitarists for Willow Son had gone missing. That lead to speculation and the writers posting online about the cancellation. There was always a story to tell, truth or not, because people loved a good story and some good drama. “He’s just hiding somewhere,” Brantley said. “He heard or knows something that has him pissed off. That’s what he does.” “He could have talked to us,” Colby said. “It’s Ryker,” Jett said. “Talking isn’t really his thing. He reacts and does what his heart tells him.”

“His heart is connected to his dick,” Van said. “So what do we do?” Colby asked. “Track down every pretty woman in the country?” “I don’t know,” Jett said. He stood up and put the guitar down. He was antsy, waiting for Masie to call him. Her dance school was growing and she had the opportunity to take a group of the girls on a road trip up north to compete. Time away from the woman he loved hurt worse than time away from the road, the tour, and the fans. “He’ll be back. He always comes back.” “This is different,” Colby said.

“We can’t have this right now. Portis is going to walk away.” “Oh well,” Brantley said. “We’ll figure it out.” “All I want to do is write something,” Van said. “But I can’t focus. This entire thing is a giant mess right now.” “I think we’re doing okay,” Van said. “Think about it. Where we’ve been and how far we’ve come. It’s pretty amazing. We always hit these bumps in the road. It makes us real because we fight for what we want.” Harry popped in on the studio. He had his hands on his hips, looking

frustrated as hell. “Portis is pissed,” Harry said. “He’s always pissed,” Colby said. “Well, you did punch him in the mouth, Colby. And the rest of you guys seem to be enjoying fucking up his plans.” “What plans?” Jett asked. “Sending us out on tour with a crappy band? Pulling the plug on the tour? Giving us a deadline for an album? We’re not processed, Harry. You know that. We’re not ever going to be processed.” “Yeah, well,” Harry said and looked around the room. “You’re not going to like what Portis has in line next.

But we have to go for the ride. Take advantage of all we can while we can.” “What the hell does that mean?” Van asked. “Whoa, wait a second!” Brantley yelled. He jumped up from the piano and turned around. He sat, hitting notes that sounded like death. “I’ve got him!” “What?” Jett asked. “Ryker. Look.” Brantley turned his phone around and sure as shit, there was Ryker. On a stage in a bar, playing acoustic guitar. Singing his heart out, stripping Willow Son classics down to their bare bones. And he sounded damn good. “How did you get that?” Harry

asked. “I have friends,” Brantley said with a sly grin. “Do you know where this is?” Colby asked. “Hell yeah.” Jett smirked and looked at the rest of the band. “No,” Harry shouted. “I’ll go find him. I’ll send for a car or something.” “Road trip,” Brantley said. “No,” Harry said. “I agree,” Colby said. “Road trip.” Jett laughed as Harry rubbed his forehead. This was definitely going to piss Portis off. But at least Willow Son was

going to get their guitarist back. (2) Ashley busted into Alyson’s room with her laptop in one hand and a big smile on her face. “Check this out!” “What is it?” Alyson asked as she stopped typing. She needed the break anyway. A nice long report on international business expansion was starting to get the best of her. But she had to get it done. Along with her business plan so that she could just get her MBA finalized and done. She had been fielding some job offers the last two weeks, which was always exciting and terrifying.

“Look at this,” Ashley said. She crashed to the bed and hit the space bar. Music blared through the small speakers on the laptop. It was a guy with a guitar. “Do you know who this is?” Ashley asked. “It’s dark. I don’t…” “Listen to the song.” Alyson listened. It did sound familiar. But between the choppy recording and the noise pushing through the small laptop speakers, it was hard to really hear. “Okay, fine,” Ashley said. “It’s Willow Son.” “A cover?”

“No! It’s Ryker. The guitarist. By himself.” “Okay.” “Okay? Seriously? Aly, he played right down the street last night. I have no idea why though. The rest of the band wasn’t with him.” “Okay,” Alyson said with a grin. “What am I supposed to say?” “You’re supposed to say… Ash, let’s go out tonight and find Ryker. Let’s track down that hunk of a rockstar and see what we can get from him.” Alyson sighed and shook her head. She went to the bed and shut the laptop, killing the music. She grabbed Ashley by

the shoulders. “Ash, you’re freaking crazy and there’s not a chance in hell you’re going to find Ryker tonight. So leave me alone so I can get my work done.” “You’re such a geek.” “Sorry I don’t have Daddy’s money to live on.” “Hey, this apartment is paid for, thank you,” Ashley said. “Don’t make me kick you out.” “You wouldn’t live ten minutes without me here. You know that.” “Bitch,” Ashley whispered. “Love you too.” “I’m going out tonight to find him.”

“And if you somehow find him, then what?” Alyson asked. “I have ten rockstar babies with him!” “Ew.” Ashley winked and left the room. Alyson turned back to her report. Supply and demand. Macro and microeconomics. Supply relation. International language barriers, embargo, cargo, currency rates, government rules… Opening her top drawer, Alyson pulled out her business plan. She opened the folder and looked at the architectural design of the building. Probably a dime a dozen kind of thing, something that

wouldn’t necessarily fly with colors, but it was her project and what she wanted to talk about. She flipped through the pages and looked at some of the figures. It was a seven figure operation. “Not a chance in hell,” Alyson whispered. It was just a project, not a goal. Yeah, there were plenty of previous students who used their business plans to go on and actually start their businesses. Hell, there were a lot of people in her classes who were already making career salaries or were rich off businesses they opened and sold. Alyson was just bouncing in between. Ashley said she’d talk to her father about lending the money, but that was a

line Alyson refused to cross. She feared Ashley’s father in a creepy, old man, why are you looking down my shirt? kind of way. He was single, had girlfriends half his age, and flaunted his money. Twenty more minutes of typing and Alyson called it quits. She watched as Ashley got ready to leave for the night. Dressed up with really nowhere to go except on a wild goose chase for a rockstar who was probably long gone by now. It was kind of cool to think about though. Once Ashley left, Alyson went online and looked at some of the videos posted of Ryker playing his acoustic gig. A single light shining on him. An

acoustic guitar in his hands. Wearing a black hoodie. Something about it made Alyson smile. But then she reminded herself he was a rockstar. He was rich and famous. Not to mention the other guitarist for the band had been busted for drugs. Any notion of a rockstar fantasy ended when the video did. Alyson shut her laptop down for the night. Sleep took her fast, as it always seemed to do. The next morning she woke up to find Ashley sitting at their little breakfast bistro table, hovering over a mug of coffee. “You okay?” Alyson asked.

Ashley looked up, eyes weary and bloodshot. She nodded. “Yeah. I just got in a couple hours ago.” “And you chose not to sleep?” “Coffee first. Then sleep. The rockstar life.” “The rockstar life,” Alyson said and laughed. She poured herself a mug of coffee and then sat across from Ashley. “Speaking of which, how did that all turn out?” “Negative,” Ashley said. “Went to three different bars and got nothing. No Ryker. No Willow Son. I tried searching online, texting friends. No sign of him. It must have been a once in a lifetime

thing.” “Aw, I’m sorry,” Alyson said. “At least you got to go out.” “Yeah, that was fun. My ass was pinched twice, I drank way too many vodka drinks, and kissed two different guys.” “And you wonder why I don’t go out.” “You go out to different places,” Ashley said. “You and Logan. My suave.” “Ugh, don’t talk about it.” Ashley snorted. Alyson went out on two dates with Logan, who she met in a business

development class. He was cute, a smooth talker with plans for investing and business. A nice guy, but way too full of himself. Good to talk to when it came to business but nothing else matched up. It also made it clear when Logan boldly asked Alyson if they could just fuck once in a while. As friends. Just to get it out of their system. She wondered how many women he tried that on and how many women let it happen. It only happened once with Alyson, after a long night of working on a project and drinking strong wine. She had felt tired, lonely, and Logan made the right move at the right time. Something Alyson regretted the next

morning. “It was kind of dumb, right?” Ashley asked. “To think I could find Ryker. It just would have been really cool.” “It would have,” Alyson said. She looked at the clock above the table. “Look, it’s almost seven. Go catch some sleep. I have an interview to go to. I’ll be back around noon or one, then we’ll grab lunch. Okay?” “The coffee smells so good.” “It’ll be here when you get up. You need sleep. Play your rockstar fantasy in your mind while you sleep.” “Oh, don’t say that,” Ashley said.

“I’ll never sleep then.” “What about it makes it so sexy?” Ashley paused. “Have you ever been to a concert?” “Not the kind you go to.” “That’s right. You’re all violins and shit.” Alyson shook her head. “Sure.” “Well, it’s simple. It’s these guys who can do whatever they want. They get on stage, there’s people that want them. Women want them. Men want to be them. There’s men who want them. Whatever works. But they have this power. Music and words and what it means. Like one song could change

someone’s life forever. It could save someone. It could help take away their pain. A song could be a memory. I know the song that was playing when I kissed my first boy. When I had sex the first time. It’s so… it’s just cool. And, well, Ryker is just sexy. He’s a bad ass. Total bad ass.” “Yeah but they have problems,” Alyson said. “The lead singer was in an accident. The other guitarist got arrested for buying pills. Didn’t Ryker have something happen, too?” “It doesn’t matter, Alyson,” Ashley said. She yawned and stood up. “I know everything you went through was tough.

And you still go through it. But you can’t judge and compare everyone. That’s hard not to do, I know. Sometimes people do dumb things, but that doesn’t make them dumb.” “What if they keep doing it?” Alyson asked. Ashley grinned. “I’m too tired to take you on right now. You’re so much smarter than me.” Ashley leaned down and hugged Alyson. “Just cut loose once in a while and let your hair down.” “And have my ass grabbed? Kiss two guys? Worry about getting hit on?” Ashley didn’t answer. She walked away.

After finishing her coffee, Alyson ate a small breakfast, took a shower, and got dressed for her interview. She left the apartment, humming a Willow Son song. ** Three to five years? I can’t figure out the next three to five minutes. This is all bullshit. You and I both know it. You’re reading from a cue card. You have no idea what you’re looking for in me. You just have to kill time to make it seem like you care. Just collecting your paycheck. Alyson felt the color rush to her face. She grew nervous, unable to stop

thinking the thoughts rolling through her mind. “Don’t be nervous,” Mr. Spectren said. He was a middle aged man, thin hair, a picture on his desk of his wife, two boys, and a daughter. “I’m sorry,” Alyson said. “Three to five years ago I had a plan of sitting right here. And here I am. So what I set my goal for, I achieve. I am in full understanding that life can change paths without question. But I found it best to adapt. So my three to five year plan is a work in progress. The dream? Sitting in a comfortable position where I trust those under me and those above me trust me. I’m able to create and harbor a

positive work environment and achieve positive results.” Mr. Spectren folded his hands and nodded. “Your resume is impressive. You know your stuff, Ms. Porsmenth.” “Thank you,” Alyson said. “I know you’ve interviewed with several other companies.” Alyson opened her mouth, nervous. “It’s okay!” Mr. Spetren said. “That’s a good thing. There’s a lot of interest in you. When do you finished your MBA?” “Not soon enough,” Alyson said. “I have two projects left and I’m done.”

“So I can consider you to be ready to work?” “If there’s an offer…” Mr. Spectren folded his hands and leaned forward. “I’m sure we can make an arrangement. Off the record, Alyson.” He smiled. Not a good smile. “How bad do you want the job?” “Excuse me?” “How bad do you want the job?” “I would be honored…” Mr. Spectren reached out and put the picture of his family face down. “I think you know exactly what I’m talking about. Did you eat lunch? Can I buy you lunch? Show you the executive side of

life?” Alyson felt heat rush to her face. Is this really happening right now? Is he implying… “I’m sorry,” Alyson said. “I’m confused.” “No need to be,” Mr. Spectren said. “I’m going to buy you lunch. Anything you want. We can go find a nice, cozy, high rise restaurant right in the city. I’ll call for a company car. All paid for. Just you and me. We can discuss your career. What you want.” Alyson rose to her feet. “I want a job. Not you.” Mr. Spectren’s eyes went wide.

“Do you understand the opportunity?” “What? To…” Alyson couldn’t bring herself to say it. To sleep with you?! It made her shudder. Not just because Mr. Spectren was an unattractive man, to her at least, but because he had a family. Better yet, how many people actually went along with him? “I’m going to have to rethink this position,” Alyson whispered. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Spectren. It was a pleasure to meet you.” “The pleasure… all mine.” Alyson hurried toward the door of

the office. Before she left, she heard Mr. Spectren pick up his phone. “Barbara, let’s keep looking. That last applicant just wasn’t going to work out. Sadly. She’s not a team player.” Once back outside, Alyson felt too dressed up with nowhere to go. Maybe Ashley was right. Maybe it was time to cut loose a little. Alyson’s cell phone rang. She cringed, fearing it was her mother, in trouble, again. It wasn’t her mother, but it wasn’t much better though. It was the bank, looking for money. Worry filled Alyson’s body. She looked back at the building.

No. She would figure this all out. One way or another. There was no way in hell she would compromise herself. At least not for a guy like that. (3) Ryker was on the road again. He had been circling the same area for a few days now. If he had really planned on bolting for good, he would have been long gone. This was just temporary. A chance to cut away from the world. Plus, it was fun to see the reaction of fans when they realized who he was. He had played three shows, each one turning into a wild night of hanging with fans

and finding somewhere to crash, just like the old days. Waking up the next morning and taking off. Hitting the road, grabbing some coffee and a breakfast sandwich, and just going. Parking on the side of the road near a bend, Ryker jumped the guardrail and walked down to the ocean water. It wasn’t exactly safe, definitely not a place to swim, but it was pretty serene to watch the end of the world right before his eyes. Listening to the water hit the rocks. Splashing up over, glistening until the sun dried it up and the next wave soaked the rocks again. Watching the motion gave Ryker a sense of calm and peace. The push and pull, the cycle that never ended because if it

did… well… everything would end, right? Sticking his hands into his pockets, Ryker loved the way the breeze fought against his shirt, his hair, wanting control. Memories slipped through the cracks of their cages and ran rampant in his mind. Hell, that was half the reason he was out here. Watching his family crumble for years, the only thing that ever made sense was music. Finding a way to stay somewhat level and express himself through that goddamn horrible sound his brother used to scream about. Ryker wanted to grin about it, but he couldn’t. His brother had always meant well but was a complete asshole. A grumpy, forever waiting for death kind

of man, just like their father. Grumbling under his breath, Ryker turned and walked away from the beach. He had two choices now. He could either drink himself stupid or play some goddamn rock n’ roll music. His fingers trembled for that wicked good electric sound. Brantley on the drums, causing mayhem. Jett filling in the guitar sound. Van carrying the bass line. Colby bringing words to life. Or it could just be Ryker again, one more time, for the hell of it. There was nothing like that natural sound of an acoustic guitar. The roughness of his voice was far from perfect, but bleeding with passion. Covering his own band’s songs was one thing, but playing music

he wrote - music, lyrics - that was a whole other feeling. Ryker grabbed his cell and called Chuck. One more show, man. Can I do it? Yeah… no problem… you could tell the fucking world for all I care. Ryker from Willow Son is coming… one more time. One more show. Ryker got into his car and sped away. A smile crept across his face. There really was nothing like the open road and music in your heart. ** The bar was beyond packed. Chuck looked flustered as he ran from

the office to the kitchen, making phone calls to family and friends, begging for extra help. The people poured out of the bar to the sidewalks and streets, prompting a visit from the local police. For Ryker, as he stood with his guitar in the small corridor, he couldn’t believe that his name caused all this. It was sometimes an overwhelming feeling, like a responsibility he didn’t want or need. For all Ryker cared, he could have played bars for the rest of his life. Yeah, the money was really good. Fuck, the money had been so good. Rich wasn’t even a word for Ryker because there was just so much. Even still, he could have made his way around the country, jamming some shows, washing dishes

for gas money, anything to feel free. Then again, the money was awesome. “Christ, just get the fuck here!” Chuck yelled. He stopped dead, ended the call, and faced Ryker. “How’s your night?” Ryker asked Chuck. “This is fucking crazy,” Chuck said. “Welcome to my life.” “It’s not a bad life, man. Thanks for coming back.” “Thanks for giving me a stage again.” “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.” “Not that it’s my goddamn business,” Chuck said, “but what’s up with the rest of the band?” “You’re right. That’s none of your goddamn business.” “Okay.” “I’m kidding, Chuck,” Ryker said. “I’m just taking a break from life for a second. What you have out there right now, man, is what I have everyday. I’m not complaining about it. But when you deal with the business part of it, it can weigh you down. I’m nothing but a product, you know?” “I hear that,” Chuck said. “Well,

the stage is yours. Whenever you’re ready.” “I’m always ready,” Ryker said. “Hey, Chuck, I have an idea.” “Yeah?” “Why don’t you hand it over to your manager for a second. Come on stage with me.” “No…” “Hell yeah. Let’s go. Get a guitar. Tune up. Hurry.” Chuck turned and tossed his phone to someone. He went into his office and came out with a beautiful black acoustic guitar. It had a custom inlay along the neck and a beautiful custom cut semi

hollow body. “Whoa,” Ryker said. “Gift from the record company a long time ago,” Chuck said. Ryker walked onto the stage and the bar lit up with screams. It was deafening. Ryker gave a wave and then calmed the crowd down. “First off,” he said, “you wild people got the police here already!” The bar erupted again. Ryker waved to calm everyone down again. “Okay, stay calm. If they come again, they’ll shut us down. And nobody shuts me down. So I’ll keep playing. And then I’ll get arrested.” Everyone started to boo.

“Hey, the guy next to me deserves all the love right now,” Ryker said. “This is Chuck. He owns this place. He’s letting me rock this place. So let’s hear it for Chuck.” The crowd erupted again. Ryker stepped back to Chuck and yelled, “Follow my lead. I’m sure you know what to do.” Ryker started to play a Willow Son song. Chuck came right in on the second time. The sound was richer because of the two guitars. The entire bar was dancing, holding up their drinks, singing along with him. For the last chorus, Ryker stepped back and let the everyone at the bar sing to him. The

band always did this in arenas, which was pretty damn amazing to have twenty, thirty, forty thousand people singing back. But for some reason, in the bar, with a hundred people, it was so intimate and perfect. Hitting the last chord, Ryker shook his head. He turned to look at Chuck and did a double take. Standing in the corridor off the stage was the rest of the band. Willow Son. Ryker stood at the mic. “Wow. Tonight is going to be even crazier. I can’t believe what I’m about to say. So… you’re all Willow Son fans, right?” Everyone cheered.

“That’s what I thought. And you all love Chuck, right?” Applause. But not enough. “No, no, no,” Ryker said. “That’s not loud enough. Chuck gave you a place to drink and hear music.” The bar erupted louder. “Good,” Ryker said. “So I’m just going to say this… the rest of the band is here…” The next two hours were nothing short of a blur. The entire bar went crazy. Chuck scrambled to tear his guitar off and rush from the stage. Ryker figured he was trying to figure out how to keep his bar intact as Willow Son took the small stage.

Five rockstars. Five guitars. One show. The only reason they stopped playing was because it was close to eleven and the police had to come again. As much as Ryker didn’t give a shit about going to jail, he figured he’d done enough to the band already. They called it a night, thanked everyone, and Ryker offered to buy everyone a drink if they promised to calm down and enjoy the rest of the night quietly. Willow Son had to hang in the kitchen area, waiting for a ride. Chuck flew around the bar, in and out of the kitchen, calling out orders, looking like he was ready to pass out. When he finally did stop, he stood and shook his

head at the band. “If you get fined,” Brantley said, “we’ll pay it.” “Tell me what the bar tab is,” Ryker said. “I promised everyone a drink.” “It’s all good,” Chuck said. “This is the craziest night I’ve had in a long time.” “Yeah, us too,” Van said. “For different reasons.” Van eyed Ryker. As fun as the night was, Ryker knew there was a serious conversation to be had. And it started the second they all climbed into the backseat of a car.

“Found you,” Jett said. “Busted,” Ryker said. “Like I was on the run.” “You have Portis terrified,” Colby said. “And Harry is losing his mind,” Van said. “First off, Harry is always losing his mind,” Ryker said. “Second, Portis can screw himself.” “What is it, man?” Brantley asked. “Come on.” “I don’t want to talk about it.” “We do,” Colby said. “We have to talk about it.” Ryker looked out the window.

Someone had called someone to arrange for a hotel room. Another enjoyment of being a rockstar and being rich. At the hotel, Willow Son crashed into their room and Brantley led the way to the bar. He poured drinks and pointed to Ryker. “We either do this the easy way or the hard way,” he said. “Which is?” Ryker asked. “We drink and talk,” Brantley said. “Or everyone but you drinks… and we keep you away all night until you talk.” Ryker sat on the arm of the couch. “I don’t know. I went to get something in the studio one night and heard Portis and Harry talking about a reality show.”

“What?” Jett asked. “Yeah. It just freaked me out. Like we’re going to become puppets for things, you know? I mean, is that shit true?” “I don’t know,” Colby said. “They’ve been talking about ways to keep our image going. It’s no lie that we have a bad boy rockstar thing going on. If they want to push that, that’s up to them. I just want to write music and get on stage. Look at that bar tonight.” “Then let’s do that,” Ryker said. “Just go off the grid and play shows like that.” “We can’t,” Van said. “I mean, we

can do some, but we have an album to finish.” “With a deadline,” Ryker said. “That’s forcing music.” “We’re good enough to make it work,” Colby said. “Considering one of our guitarists has a pretty good set of acoustic songs.” “You watched the videos?” Ryker asked. “Of course,” Brantley said. “Those are good songs.” Colby grinned. “Really good.” Ryker stood and sighed. He walked to the window and stood there. “Shit. I shouldn't have left. I just get

annoyed and split. You know me.” “We know you, man,” Jett said. “That’s why we didn’t chase you down right away.” “We’re your brothers,” Colby said. “You know that. I know when there’s too much authority on your back, you attack. Again, we’re sorry for all you’ve been through.” “Ending the tour sucked,” Van said. “It really did. It was a mess to begin with. But it showed us how much the fans love us. We have a long way to go.” “I’ll figure this out,” Ryker said. “I’ll make it up to you guys. I promise.” “You’re damn right you will,”

Brantley said. “Whatever Portis wants… we better go with.” Ryker looked over his shoulder. “Even a reality show?” “Maybe not quite that far,” Colby said. “We need Portis’ power and financial backing. He needs our music. So we compromise.” “Let me give Harry a quick call,” Van said. “Let him know we’re alive and that Ryker is alive. He’ll probably call Portis. It’ll be back to business tomorrow.” “That’s fine,” Ryker said. “We’ll hit the studio. I have an idea anyway.” “Does it involve leaving the

band?” Jett asked. Ryker turned. “I want to punch you in the mouth, man.” “Go for it,” Jett said. “You owe me a few, don’t you?” Ryker had the urge to do it, too. He felt a jolt of anger and a little fear. It was easier on stage. It was easier to get lost in music. But there was something far bigger waiting out there on the horizon. That’s what Ryker always told himself. The only problem was that most of the time, the horizon seemed really dark. (4)

“So did anything come of that interview?” “No. Why?” Alyson asked, looking up from a pot of water, waiting for it to boil. This had become her life. Literally watching and waiting for water to boil so she could cook a box of spaghetti that had been on sale at the grocery store for less than a buck. “That guy hit on you and you did nothing,” Ashley said. “Nothing to say about it,” Alyson said. “That’s just life. Better off I find that out about him now than after taking a job.” “What an asshole.” Alyson shrugged her shoulders.

The weight on her shoulders felt heavier than ever. She had a few payments due on credit cards and other debts that she desperately needed a decent paying job for. Her part-time waitress job wasn’t cutting it at all right now. She could ask for full-time, but was that what she really wanted? Almost six figures in student loan debt to get the degree of her dreams and her job offers hadn’t been there. Interviews, yes. Possibilities, sure. One creepy guy that hit on her, definitely. But nothing that got her a paycheck. Alyson shook her head. “What is it?” Ashley asked. “I never wanted to work for

money,” Alyson said. “That sounds so stupid, I know. But I wanted to find something I loved. That’s what everyone told me. Find something you love and you’ll never work a day in your life. I call bullshit on that.” “Aw, don’t be like that,” Ashley said. “You don’t have to worry about a thing!” Everything fell silent. The hiss of the steam from the pot of water gently turned into a boil. Alyson gritted her teeth. She looked away for a second. “I shouldn’t have said that,” she said. “I’m sorry, Ash.”

Ashley nodded. “It’s okay.” She pushed from the table and stood. “Not that it’s my place to defend anything, but my life isn’t all that easy sometimes. My father’s girlfriend is younger than me. I never had a family. Or friends. Everything had a price tag to it. You’re the only real friend I’ve ever had.” “Oh, Christ,” Alyson whispered. She felt a lump in her throat. She left the water boiling and met Ashley halfway and hugged her. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m mad. This is not your fault. You’re helping me so much right now.” “Because of the free apartment?” “No. Because you’re my friend.”

Ashley looked at Alyson. “And the free apartment.” “Fine. The free apartment helps.” They both smiled. “I want to find that guy and cut his balls off,” Ashley said. “Trust me, you don’t. He’d probably like it. I just can’t help but wonder how many women like me fell for it. You know? Like they think that kind of thing helps.” “That’s why you’re smart. Miss MBA.” “Yeah. Go me.” “Hey, if you need money…” Alyson backed away. “Nope. Not

a chance in hell, Ash. I’ll never borrow money from a friend. That only causes problems.” “Then we just have to find a way for you to make some extra money.” Ashley paused and then grinned. “How do you feel about taking your clothes off for money?” “Camera or no camera involved?” Alyson asked. “Aly!” “I’m joking,” Alyson said. Alyson peeled open the box of spaghetti and poured it into the boiling water. “I can’t believe I’m eating at home.

Last time I did that was… Thanksgiving?” “Yeah,” Alyson said. “Your father was in Cancun and my mother… well, whatever.” Alyson cleared her throat. “Plus, your liver needs a detox night. You’ve been bar hoping, chasing Willow Son for too long.” “And I screwed that up,” Ashley said. Ashley had gone to two bars almost an hour away because someone who knew someone claimed they knew Ryker was going to be at a bar. Ryker never showed. That night, he ended up at the first bar from the first night he did his little spontaneous solo tour. And if that

wasn’t enough, the rest of the band showed up on stage to jam for a couple hours. In fact, since then, there were rumors popping up online that Willow Son might be doing more acoustic only shows and they might be releasing an acoustic only album. “I’m sure you’ll see the band,” Alyson said. “They’ll be on tour.” “Not like that. That’s really cool, right? Just these big time sexy rockstars like two feet away in a little bar, having fun. Ah… I can’t think about it anymore. It’s going to piss me off.” Alyson crouched down and opened the cabinet. “This will help.” Alyson hid an expensive bottle of

wine three months ago. She was going to drink it after getting her first job offer. “That’s your job wine,” Ashley said with air quotes. “Fuck my job,” Alyson said with a smile. “Let’s get drunk.” “I thought my liver was supposed to detox.” “You’re right. I’ll just get drunk.” “No, that doesn’t work,” Ashley said. “That’s teasing. I’ll just detox from going out. How’s that sound?” Alyson handed the bottle of wine over to Ashley. “Cheers then.” Two hours later, Alyson poured the last of the wine in her glass. She

looked over at Ashley, who was feeling as good as she was. “I hate men,” Ashley announced. “Oh?” “Yeah. They all suck.” “I won’t disagree. But since when do you care about men? You love ‘em and leave ‘em.” “No, no,” Ashley said. “I don’t love anyone. I don’t sleep around. I have fun but I don’t just, you know, open my legs and say, come n’ get it…” “Ew,” Alyson said and then laughed. One thing they both had in common was that wine made their hearts open

and made them watch sappy romance movies. It always started out the same way. They’d get excited, put something on, and by the end of the movie, they would hate the way it ended. Because none of it was real. And none of it could happen in real life. Nobody just swooped in and saved a woman. Or fell in love. Or any of that junk. “We should watch a horror movie,” Ashley said. “That’s more like our lives.” Alyson snorted. She looked at the empty wine bottle. “God, I feel like a hypocrite.” “Why?”

Alyson reached out with her foot and kicked the wine bottle over. It hit the table with a thunk. “That’s why.” “Wine?” “Everything I’ve been through with my mother, right? And I’m home, drunk.” “The difference is that you’re home and relaxing while drunk. You’re not out driving, causing problems, calling people. You can’t beat yourself up about it.” “And my final project is about a recovery center. I’m a hypocrite.” “Jesus, Aly,” Ashley said. “You’re being insane now. Don’t ruin tonight. I’m tired, lonely, and horny.”

“Good to know.” “I was saving myself for Ryker.” Alyson burst out laughing. “You really just said that?” “Shut up. It could have happened. Maybe it still could.” “Good luck.” Alyson put her head back. The room spun. She smiled. Then she thought about it. A little fling with a rockstar. That would definitely spice up life. ** Alyson felt the bed shaking. She then heard a fading voice as Ashley called her name. When Alyson’s head

popped up, she looked at the clock. It was almost three in the morning. They had called it quits over three hours ago. Tired, half drunk, Alyson forced herself to sit up. “What’s wrong? What happened?” “I have something to show you,” Ashley said. “Is everyone okay?” “Yes, everyone is okay. Don’t be so negative all the time.” “You’re waking me up in the middle of the night. That’s never good news. It’s always bad or life changing.” “Well, I don’t know if it’s bad. But it could be life changing.”

Alyson yawned and ran a hand through her messy hair. “What?” Ashley grabbed a laptop off Alyson’s floor. She sat next to her and turned it so Alyson could see it. “You have to read this. This is… insane.” At first, Alyson was going to just pretend to read it. She could then placate Ashley and convince her to go the hell to bed. Then they could actually talk in the morning. But something caught Alyson’s eyes. Willow Son. That opened her eyes wider. So she took the time to read it. When she finished, she didn’t know what to say. It seemed impossible.

But Ashley was right - it could definitely be life changing. (5) Ryker sat in the big office with Portis on one side of the desk and himself, Harry, and the rest of Willow Son on the other side. Portis was in a fancy suit, hands folded, deep in thought. Harry had worked to keep the talks alive and well between all parties. Simply put, it was a power play here. Ryker knew it. The band knew it. Portis knew it. They were there to see who could make the final push or who would be the one to give in and give up. “I don’t like the extra album idea.

The acoustic thing doesn’t make sense.” “Does to us,” Ryker said. “Look, you skipped town, played a couple bars, and now you’re an acoustic act? You want to live like that? Go then. I’ll cut the deal, rip up the contract, and you can go buy a broken down van and make pennies.” “If it gets me out of this shithole of an office,” Ryker snapped. Portis laughed. He closed the folder in front of him. “I’ve kept my end of the deal. Yours is simple… give me an album to sell. Not an acoustic thing that’s sold in coffee houses. Not something that’s going to be eaten up by

your loyal fans. I want the radio, the tour, the television.” Portis stood up. “I want the awards, award show performances. I want you guys playing on New Year’s Eve at midnight. I want you on the national networks playing their dumb concert stuff. I want you everywhere. Selling food, cars, and, yes, I want this all on camera right now. The Willow Son reality show.” “No,” Ryker said. “Hey,” Harry said. “You don’t talk now.” “Like hell,” Colby said. “We’re a band. We’re not puppets.” Portis curled his fingers and wiggled them. “You went on tour with

Crutch Fail, didn’t you?” “That was different,” Van said. “That was a tour. That was the road, where we belong.” “Now you belong in front of millions of faces. Not on video sites from shitty cell phone recordings. But real production.” “Reality show?” Ryker asked. “So we get told what to do and make it look real?” “Like that’s any different from what you do now?” Ryker hit the desk and jumped up. Jett grabbed his arm and Ryker shook it away.

“Christ, bro,” Jett said. Ryker turned and pushed at Jett, sending his chair toppling over. Jett caught himself from falling. He bumped into Ryker. They were ready to go. “Hey, stop it,” Brantley said. He cut an arm between the guitarists. “You morons.” “Exactly,” Portis said. “Get this shit on camera and we’re filthy rich.” “Jesus,” Harry said. He was the only one left sitting. “What we do on stage is not scripted,” Ryker said. “You play a song that’s already

been written and recorded. How is that not scripted? You have a set list. You play it. You entertain.” Ryker gritted his teeth. “It’s not the same.” Portis made fists and put them on the table. “You owe me. I signed you guys when you had nothing. Your lead singer punched me in the face. Your other guitarist was arrested for buying drugs. And now, Ryker, you owe me. Taking off like that? Time is money, brother.” Silence fell in the office. Ryker made fists but stood down. He inched back, nodding. He turned and started to pace the office.

“Look, I can have a production crew ready in days,” Portis said. “We can test the waters and take it from there. This will increase your popularity. You’ll become household names. That means monster tours. We won’t have to worry about opening acts and any logistic issues. This opens doors.” “Lines your pockets,” Colby said. “Yours too,” Portis said. “Tell them, Harry.” “I’m doing best by the band,” Harry said. “I really wish everyone could just ta…” “Let us record the album,” Ryker said. “The acoustic album. Film that.

Studio only. Put it out as a special. Break it up into parts.” Ryker turned and faced Portis; now he was on the opposite end of the room. “And what do I get?” Portis asked. Ryker opened his arms. “Me.” “You?” “No reality show… do the album with the filming of it. You’ll get reality TV then. Us writing, recording, drinking, fighting. But you want the commercialized shit. Fine. You get me. Ryker from Willow Son. Hold a contest. One lucky fan will win a date with me. I’ll do or say anything you want.” “No way,” Brantley said. “You don’t have to do that.”

Ryker stared at Portis. “Yes I do. I let you guys down. I shouldn’t have left like I did. I had to do it though. Truth is, Portis and Harry, I heard you both talking in the studio one night. All this reality stuff is not reality at all. We’re rockstars. We want to write, record, sell albums, and tour.” “It doesn’t work that way anymore,” Portis said. Now Harry stood up. He put a hand out to Portis. “Ryker, he’s right. You know that. The internet changed everything. We’ve seen bands rise and fall quickly.” “So I’m offering something,” Ryker

said. “Hold a contest. Let fans write in, record a video, I don’t know. Make it a spectacle. Give them a grand prize of money and a date with Ryker. A true rockstar thing.” The office was silent. “Yeah,” Portis said and nodded. “So if we do the acoustic thing, we’ll keep it low key. Kind of like hidden cameras, lots of black and white shots. Show the emotion of the album. I want you guys on a bus, in the studio, writing in notebooks. Piecing it together.” “The songs are already written,” Van said. “Then rewrite them,” Portis said. “You’ll give us the backing?”

Ryker asked. “You’ll give me the rockstar date?” Portis shot back. “Yeah, I’ll do that for you. I’d love to take someone out on a date. Rockstar style.” “Jesus,” Harry said again, shaking his head. “You just want to get laid,” Jett said. “I can do that easily,” Ryker said. “I’m offering myself for everyone here. I’m the bad guy, right? I’m the jerk rockstar. So let me play the part. We can’t ask Colby or Jett because they’re tied down. So I’ll do it. Plus, not to

sound cocky, I have a little following right now thanks to my bar shows.” “Bar shows,” Harry said. “Set it up. Let them play some shows.” “After each show airs,” Colby said. “To highlight the acoustic feel.” Portis crossed his arms. “Give me some of the new album then. A mix of the black and white acoustic feel with the heavier rock n’ roll sound.” “Done,” Van said. “Just end all this shit.” “And I want a single to release when this is all done. The first single off the new album.” Portis grinned. “And I promise you guys, it’ll go straight to

number one. The second you see it, you’ll get everything I’m wanting to do.” “So we all agree?” Harry asked. “Nothing else to talk about?” “Nothing,” Ryker said. He turned and tore out of the office. The hallway was lined with custom painted pictures of musical notes, instruments, and bands that Portis had worked with throughout the years. Ryker crashed against the wall and rubbed his temples. The door opened a second later and Jett came out. The two guitarists faced off. “What?” Ryker asked. “Are you sure about this?” Jett

asked. “Not at all. But what am I going to do?” “Fight back.” “No. I like the acoustic thing. It needs to be heard. And filming it is actually kind of cool to have. When we’re old men we can look back on it.” “But this date thing… win a date with a rockstar?” “So?” “It’s tacky.” “I’m tacky,” Ryker said. “What the hell do I care?” “You know this is going to explode, right?” Jett asked.

“Yeah. It’s going to be something.” The rest of the band came out of the office. They gathered around Ryker. All Ryker wanted to do was get in the studio. Record some music. Have Harry work on getting gigs at whatever bars that could handle the Willow Son crowds. It didn’t matter about the date thing. It was a contest. It was one date. It would come and go like a drop of water in a bucket. It wasn’t like Ryker was going to meet the woman of his dreams. ** “They’re grabbing some random

names,” Ashley said. “But I took it a step further. I made sure to send in a video about myself. How much I love Willow Son. How many times I’ve seen them in concert. All the shirts and stuff. I’m telling you, this is going to happen.” “Well, if you win, you deserve it,” Alyson said. She flipped through what was hopefully the last printed pages of her report to hand in. She was done with everything that had to do with her degree at this point. Hell, she was kind of done with everything in life. “I did something else,” Ashley said. Alyson looked up. “Oh?” “There was a referral thing. If you

did it, you get like more points or something. It increases your chances of getting picked.” “Okay…” “So I put your name in it.” “What?” Alyson asked. “So what? If you get to go, then go. You get money if you win. So that could help with your stuff, right?” Alyson’s jaw dropped. “Yeah… sure.” Then she thought about it. “Okay. I could win money by dating a rockstar. That’s what every graduate student hopes for.” “Better than nothing,” Ashley said and stuck her tongue out.

“So how does this all work?” “They’re going to email people. Then there’s a free Willow Son show in the park. That’s going to be freaking amazing. After that, a winner gets chosen. They get to go on a date with Ryker! Can you imagine it?” “What if it’s all fake?” “What do you mean?” “Come on, Ash. A lot of that stuff is planned out. This is all just a way for the band to sell music and stuff. You know that, right?” “I guess,” Ashley said. “It’s still a free concert and kind of cool. They are filming the date, I think.”

“Exactly.” Alyson turned her laptop off and spun around in her chair. Ashley looked a little dejected as she sat on the bed. There were times when Alyson was honestly jealous of Ashley’s life. She could be a free spirit and never had to worry about money. But then times like right now Alyson almost felt bad for her. Her life and world was a fantasy. “Forget about this stuff,” Alyson said. “Focus on yourself. What are you planning on doing?” “Tonight?” “No. Just in general. I mean, do you have a dream job or career?” “Not really. I actually like to write

books.” “That’s great,” Alyson said. “Go after it. Live your life, not someone else’s. Those guys are rockstars. They’re famous. I’m sure their lives are nothing like ours, you know? Sometimes it’s fun to think about, but in all truth, what is it really?” “I know,” Ashley said. “I’ve always had a sore spot for the bad guys in life. Maybe because I’m so used to getting let down by guys in my life. So I look for it again and again.” “Don’t sell yourself so short,” Alyson said. “You’ll find someone. They don’t have to be bad though. Maybe they

can just look it.” Ashley laughed. “A tough guy with tattoos who is gentle and romantic. Sign me up.” Ashley’s phone rang and she rushed from the bedroom. It had nothing to do with the Willow Son thing, but it was an old friend wanting to get something to eat and have a few drinks. Ashley offered Alyson to go but Alyson declined. The appeal of going out had lost its luster a long time ago. Then again, all the talk about dating made Alyson wonder if she should go out and try to meet someone. Anyone. Someone who wasn’t waist deep in advanced business stuff, searching for a job,

dreaming of a career, wondering what the hell the point of life was. Long after Ashley left, Alyson was in bed, her TV on a small nightstand, droning. The volume was turned down to almost mute. She kept it on for the light. It was something silly from when Alyson was a kid and it just stuck with her. She didn’t like to sleep without light. Such a childish thing to carry in life. Alyson yawned. Her eyes felt tired and strained. Her body begged for sleep, but her mind and heart were wide awake. She yearned for something different and maybe even something a little wild. To step on the edge that Ashley walked. To cross that line a little.

Settling on sleep, Alyson put her phone down and shut her eyes. When she heard her phone vibrate, she wasn’t sure if it was an hour later or five hours later. She feared it would be a text from her mother - or from Ashley looking for a ride home. It wasn’t that at all. It was an official email from… Willow Son. Alyson had been chosen to take part of winning a date with Ryker. (6) Ryker ran through the last part of a song and then took the guitar off and handed it to the tech. “Sounds good to

me. Watch the low E string though. Feels loose.” “I’ll change it,” the tech said. “Then I’ll tune it back up again.” “Thanks, man.” Ryker walked away and stayed along the side of all the crates of equipment. Being outside on a stage was always a fun thing. Portis had definitely come through on his part of the deal with the album, money, and shows. So now Ryker needed to look and act the part of the bad boy rockstar and pick a woman to date. That’s how it was going. There were ten women picked and Ryker got to choose whoever he wanted. It was actually not a bad thing, just

a little weird that it was broadcasted in such a way. The rest of the band members were doing press interviews about the albums, what had happened on the road, touring, recording. It was like a melee of media all for Willow Son. “Hey! Ryker!” He stopped and turned. There were three people standing at a gate. They were waving and jumping. Security spotted them and started to charge at them. The entire park had been set up like the President was coming through. It seemed a little too much, but Portis loved things in excess. Ryker caught up to the security guards and said, “It’s good. They’re just

fans.” “They can’t be here,” one of the guards said. “They have to get out of here.” “Give me a minute,” Ryker said. He ran to the gate and the three fans were still jumping up and down. It was two guys and a woman. “Ryker! This is insane.” “What’s up?” Ryker asked. “You coming to the show?” “Yeah, man,” the other guy said. “I want to date you,” the woman said. “I entered the contest but didn’t win.” “Aw, that’s okay,” Ryker said. “You

really think I’m a one woman guy?” The woman blushed and touched her cheeks. “Oh, can I give you my phone number then? Can we go out?” “Just be at the show, babe,” Ryker said. “Ryker, man, can you sign my shirt?” the first guy asked. “Of course I can.” Ryker took a marker from the second guy and signed their shirts. He then looked at the woman, grinning. “What about you, babe? What do you want me to sign?” “This…” She pulled up her shirt, exposing a

white, lacey bra. Ryker nodded. She had nice chest to her. Short, a little curvy, maybe not exactly Ryker’s taste, but hey, he was a rockstar. She was a woman. He could have her anywhere he wanted. Curling his lip, Ryker winked at the woman and then signed her bra. With his other hand, he cupped her other breast just for good measure. “Have to keep steady,” he said. “I’d hate to mess up my own autograph.” The woman’s face was apple red, her hands shaking. Ryker then leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Enjoy the show.” He turned and started to walk. Then he tossed the marker up the air and

kept going. He cut to the left, disappearing out of view, and went to find the beer tent. Today would definitely be a drinking show. Before Ryker could get to the beer, his attention was stolen by something else. He leaned against a pillar and crossed his arms. A woman and man stood with clipboards and headsets on. They were talking to a group of women. No shock to Ryker when he saw it was ten women. They all stood, listening. This entire thing was going to be planned and processed. Even the freaking date was going to be the same way. Planned and processed. Out of the ten women - who were all damn beautiful in their own way -

one stuck out like a sore thumb. Nine of the women were dressed ready for a rock concert. Willow Son shirts that were custom ripped, cut, sleeves rolled up. A couple women wore low cut tanks with the Willow Son logo on it. Jean shorts, tight jeans, anything to get the attention of the rockstar waiting in the wings. Then there was the tenth woman. She was in dark blue shorts with flat shoes that made her way shorter than everyone else. Her shirt was a pale blue color that wasn’t too tight. The shirt hugged her body in all the rights spots. Rounded hips, her breasts pushing at the shirt, but nothing forced and revealing. Her hair was a light brown color and

something about her face, her eyes, she was scared but determined. Like she had something to lose in all this. Ryker caught himself smiling, wondering if the woman even knew who the hell he was. “Taking in the contestants?” Colby stepped up next to Ryker and folded his arms. “This is a nice hideout.” “I was going to get a beer,” Ryker said. “But then I saw them.” The guy with the clipboard started to wave his arm, round and round, ushering the woman along. The woman touched her headset and started to yell something about the schedule. “So who’s going to win this?”

Colby asked. “Does it really matter, man?” “Probably not. It was your idea. Remember that.” Ryker nodded. He couldn’t take his eyes off the woman who was walking eighth in line. She didn’t have any jewelry on either. No rings, bracelets, not even earrings. Christ, she wouldn’t let up on Ryker’s attention. “Look at you,” Colby said, bringing Ryker back to reality. “You’re in a freaking daze right now. You want all ten.” Ryker looked at Colby. “Maybe I do. Maybe I will have them all. At the

same time. The best night of my life.” “Have at it, man.” Ryker stepped forward and watched the women as they were escorted toward the stage. He wanted to see that woman’s ass. He wanted to see her shorts hugging her, wanting to be jealous of her back pockets. But the women were out of sight. Someone let out a long whistle. Ryker looked and saw Van waving. “Come on,” Colby said. “We have one more interview to do.” The band got together and sat around a table full of radio equipment. A local station was having a remote show at the concert. The band went through the

motions… the same questions about the same things. Plugging the acoustic album. Plugging the full album. Talking about the new single that was coming out in a week. Talking about the free show in the park, the dating contest, and about Ryker playing those bar shows. “Hey,” Ryker said, “the bottom line is that we like to play music. So if I’m hanging around, having a drink in a bar, and I decide I want to play guitar, I’m going to do it. Nothing will stop me from being a rockstar.” “You heard it here,” the radio host said, “it’s all about being a rockstar. That means bar shows, concert venues, and dates. But Ryker, be honest. How are

you going to make this decision? I mean, ten beautiful women standing in front of you. You have to pick one. What do you do?” “Who said I had to pick just one?” Ryker said. Everyone laughed. “I think the rules of the contest, man,” Jett said. “Rules? What the hell are rules?” Ryker asked. “Remember… whatever I want. When I want it.” Ryker took the headphones off and stood up. Interview, over. As the radio host kept talking, Ryker gave a quick wave and walked out

from the tent. The rest of Willow Son stayed. “Don’t mind him,” Brantley said. “He needs to go pamper himself for his big date.” Ryker ignored the comment and set his sights on the stage. A couple fans ran up to him and asked for autographs and pictures. He stopped and gave a thumbs up for the pics, but didn’t smile. He wasn’t in the game of forcing a smile when he didn’t feel like it. He made a line for the stage, bypassing his guitar tech who had a question about what kind of strings Ryker preferred. Ryker’s answer?

Simple. Fucking guitar strings! At the side of the stage, Ryker looked around. He wanted to see where the ten lucky women had been taken. More importantly, there was one that demanded his attention. A group of people spotted Ryker and started screaming for him and Willow Son. That caused a stir in the crowd and security rushed, asking Ryker to stay out of sight. It didn’t take much for Willow Son fans to get rowdy. Inching back, Ryker watched as security fought to get the crowd under control. It was warm out, even if it was near the end of the day. Music blared through speakers, but it wasn’t the music they all wanted. They wanted to see their

free Willow Son concert. Soon enough, people. Soon enough. Ryker turned and felt something crash into him. Something splashed his face and soaked his shirt. He looked down, realized it was water, and then looked up, ready to go after whoever had just spilled water on him. Instead, Ryker was caught off guard. It was her. The woman. The one who definitely didn’t belong here. “Holy shit, I’m sorry,” the woman said. The woman stood with a red cup that was tilted forward, the water all over Ryker’s chin, neck, and soaked into

his shirt. “Trying to get my attention, darling?” Ryker asked. The woman’s face flushed. “I was walking with my head down. They told me to. In case someone saw me. I just wanted a drink.” “And now I’m wearing it,” Ryker said. “Oh, I am so sorry.” “What’s your name?” “Alyson.” Good hell… beautiful name. “I like that name,” Ryker said. “You really want to go on a date with me?”

“Maybe.” “Maybe?” “Maybe I just want the money,” Alyson said. “Not like it matters, right?” “You’re here, aren’t you?” “I was chosen.” “And I get the final choice.” Alyson swallowed hard. “I’m really sorry I spilled water on you.” “I’m sure you are,” Ryker said. “Do you want me to spill water on myself?” Alyson asked. “You’d do that for me?” “No. I’d do it for me. Because I’d spill a little and then drink the rest. I’m

thirsty.” Ryker grinned. He whistled for his guitar tech and threw his hand back in the motion of a drink. The guy hurried to get Ryker a bottle of water. When Ryker gave it to Alyson, she blushed again. “Thanks,” she said. “No worries. Good luck out there.” “Luck. Right.” Alyson walked away. It finally gave Ryker a chance to look at her ass. It was exactly as he had imagined it. And, yes, he was jealous of her back pockets. Alyson looked back and caught Ryker looking at her, but he didn’t care. He was here to play the part, right? Bad

boy rockstar. Pick someone for a date. Become even richer. The only thing though was when he looked up from Alyson’s ass and met her eyes, he suddenly preferred to stare into her eyes. Maybe she did belong there after all. ** A blue light flashed with the thump of the bass drum. Colby ran off the side of the stage for water. Ryker stepped toward the front of the stage and put his foot up on a monitor. His guitar rang out with annoying feedback, so he slid his hand along the volume knob on the body of the guitar, killing it off.

He then lifted and lowered his arms, getting the large crowd into the beat. Van hit an open E note with each thud of Brantley’s drum. It made the sound louder and deeper, rumbling straight through Ryker’s body, right to his heart. Down in front of him, front row, were the lucky ten women. Nine of them were dancing, heads going side to side, a drink in their hands, lifting it up, lost in the music. The tenth one… Alyson… she stood with her hands at her sides, her hips swaying to the music. She was definitely not a hardcore Willow Son fan like the others. This contest was supposed to be even. It was supposed to be dramatic. It was supposed to be a

spectacle. The truth was that the only real spectacle of it all was the way Ryker couldn’t take his eyes off Alyson. He gave a wave to all the women and they went crazy. Even Alyson this time. Clapping and cheering. Colby ran to the mic, a bottle of water in his hand. “You ready to pack it up and go home yet?” The crowd all agreed in unison that the concert was far from over, which was fine with Ryker and the rest of Willow Son. They still had songs to play. There were fifteen thousand people out there in the park, all wanting to hear music. The music Willow Son had created. Colby looked at Ryker and

nodded. Slowly, Ryker walked toward the mic. He turned up his guitar, letting the feedback ring for a few seconds before hitting a chord. The thundering sound carried across the park and beyond. “Hey!” Ryker yelled. “I know I’m supposed to pick one lucky woman for a date tonight… but right now… of all us… all together… this is our date.” The crowd cheered. The feeling was electric as it shot through Ryker’s body. “Get it, Brantley!” Colby yelled. The drums stopped. The bass stopped. Ryker stopped playing guitar. A second later Brantley played a fast drum

intro and the concert continued. The lights flashed different colors, the crowd jumping and dancing. Ryker went to the front of the stage again, shaking his head as he scanned the people. This was what it was all about. Right here, right on stage, giving back to everyone who gave him so much. It was very different from the little bars he had been playing, but the feeling was the damn same. After four more songs, Ryker and Jett took the center of the stage by storm and played fast guitar solos, battling each other, letting the audience cheer them on. They then synced up on the same guitar solo, which was damn hard to do, but when done right, it sounded really wild. They finished the solo with

the same chord and then bumped fists. They walked away from each other as Colby came forward, wearing an acoustic guitar. The set was then slowed down for two songs. Ryker watched as the ten women were brought up to the side of the stage. They were given seats, right on stage, right near Ryker. As Ryker played a slow guitar solo to the ballad, he walked along the women, one hand out, touching hands with them all. He pointed next to Alyson and someone hurried to put a chair there for Ryker to sit in. He crashed, holding his guitar up and down, finishing up the solo. When he went back into the chord progression, he swayed left to right, bumping into Alyson…

which made her bump into the next woman, and the next, and the next… Soon all ten women and Ryker were moving back and forth. Colby sang, waving the crowd to join him. Ryker looked over at Alyson and grinned. He started to sing, losing himself in the moment. The fast songs were always fun. The spirit of rock n’ roll was always alive. But to slow a song down, strip it to its core and just have powerful words and good music, that was what could change the world. Ryker stood up as the song finished. He faced all ten women and opened his arms. He winked, blew ten kisses, and backed away. He let the bad boy rockstar stuff ooze out of him.

Everything to play the part. In the back of his mind, he thought about the acoustic album. The new album. If he had to act like a fool for one night and then one date, so be it. The concert came to an end and Willow Son stood at the front of the stage to take a bow. They unloaded their guitar picks, bass picks, and drumsticks to the eager audience. But the show was far from over. Harry and Portis lingered at the back of the stage. The same man and woman from before, still wearing headsets, rushed the stage. They quickly moved all the women to the middle of the stage. White lights shined down on them all as they sat there. Ryker was given his own

chair, off to the side. The rest of Willow Son lingered, standing, looking like they were really admiring the silly scene. A man came running out on the stage. It was one of the radio hosts from some station. “Hey!” the guy cried out. “You know me. I’m Chris. And you know this guy…” He pointed at Ryker. “Give it up for Ryker from Willow Son!” The people cheered. Ryker waved, smiling, sweat still leaking from his body. He couldn’t believe how many people actually stayed for this thing. They actually gave a damn about this, beyond the free concert.

“Okay,” Chris said. “Here’s the deal. We’re going to play a game with Ryker. Then he’s going to choose one of these ten lucky women for a date!” The crowd cheered. “Imagine that. A wild date with a rockstar.” Ryker gave a nod and pumped his fist. “I’m ready,” he yelled. “Let’s get him a mic,” Chris said. Someone hurried and gave Ryker his own mic. “Hey,” Ryker said. He looked out to the crowd. “Did you all enjoy the show?” It was explosive.

“Thank you for hanging with us tonight,” Ryker said. “And thank you to these ten beautiful women… for ruining my damn night.” “Why’s that?” Chris asked. “Let’s just put it this way… I don’t like to choose. I’m a rockstar. You know how it works. It’s all about excess.” “Whoa. And what’s your version of excess, Ryker?” “Simple. All ten women. One crazy date. Why choose? They’re too beautiful.” The guys behind Ryker whistled and hooted. Ryker put his arms out and nodded his head.

“Well, you know the rules, Ryker,” Chris said. Ryker put his hand out and the mic to his lips. He stared right at Alyson. “Fuck the rules.” That got a rise out of everyone. All the women, even Alyson, applauded. “I don’t think I can change the rules,” Chris said. “But I’ll keep it simple. These women were chosen for the chance of a lifetime. To win a date with Ryker from Willow Son. To go out, have dinner, have some drinks, and let whatever happens happen.” Chris wiped his forehead and grinned wide. “One night with a rockstar…” The lights were bright on the

stage. Chris introduced each of the women. Ryker didn’t even pay attention. He drank a beer and looked back at the rest of the band. They stood with smiles on their faces. “Now, Ryker,” Chris said. “How about you tell us your perfect date?” “My perfect date?” “Yeah. What’s your plan?” Ryker considered everything he could say. But he had to keep rockstar style. “Naked.” The crowd laughed and cheered. “What?” Ryker asked. “Am I wrong?” “I’m not going to argue that,” Chris

said. “But before the naked part.” “Well, this is the before the naked part,” Ryker said. He then stood up. “Unless you all want me to get naked right now.” Every woman on stage and in the crowd cheered. Behind him, the rest of Willow Son boo’d and waved their hands no. “Wait, wait, wait,” Chris said. “Nobody is getting naked right now.” The crowd boo’d. “I know,” Chris said. “So Ryker plans on getting naked. Let’s ask some of our lucky women here what they’d like. How about… Tasha…”

A blondie with her hair pulled back, big blue eyes, and a low cut Willow Son tank top on grabbed the mic. She looked right at Ryker. He winked and blew a kiss. Play the part, man. Play the damn part. “My kind of date?” Tasha said. “I’m with Ryker. Naked!” She bit the tip of her tongue and handed the mic back to Chris. Ryker applauded her, nodding. He wouldn’t mind seeing her naked. Hell, he wouldn’t mind seeing any of them naked. Chris then put the mic right in front of Alyson. “How about you, Alyson? What’s your date like? And naked is no

longer a choice!” “Uh,” Alyson said. “Dinner… talking… maybe the rockstar could play me a song on his guitar?” “What about a kiss goodnight?” Ryker asked, putting Alyson on the spot. She licked her lips and said, “As long as we’re not naked.” “Get her off the stage!” Ryker yelled and laughed. Everyone clapped again. The entire thing was getting really annoying now. Ryker made a fist, gritted his teeth, and looked over at Portis and Harry. Harry waved his hands - calm down, Ryker, stay with it. Portis gave two thumbs up.

After a few more meaningless questions - What’s your favorite Willow Son song? If Ryker didn’t pick you, which member of Willow Son would you want to date? - it became time for Ryker to make his decision. To pick one of the ten women to go out on a date with him. He stood up and rubbed his chin. There was a prerecorded drumroll playing in the background. A white light shined all around the stage. The moment was being built up with each second that passed. Ryker walked to where the drumkit was. He grabbed a guitar leaning against it and unplugged it. He slowly walked back to the women and stood there. The decision had been obvious

hours ago. Way too obvious. Ryker held out his guitar and gave it to Alyson. The crowd cheered like crazy. Alyson looked shocked as hell. All Ryker could do was grin. (7) Alyson hadn’t fully slept in two days. Standing on the stage, lights shining on her, Ryker with his arm around her, pictures being taken like crazy. It had been an intense few minutes. Then it all came to an end. Everyone was escorted off the stage. People were talking to Alyson, giving her all the legal garbage about the date

and the money she had won. By the time Alyson got home that night, it was almost one in the morning. Ashley wouldn’t stop talking about how lucky Alyson was. Not to mention Alyson’s phone blew up with people reaching out to her through social media, wanting to talk to her and interview her. People wanted her on radio shows, TV shows. Part of Alyson wondered if she should have some kind of agent or representative to handle all the press. That quickly calmed though. Except that tonight was the night. The big night. Tonight was the date. Someone from Willow Son’s party had called to discuss the details with

Alyson. A car would arrive around seven. Then they were going for a private dinner at a restaurant. After that, it was up to Ryker. Alyson had to go along with the date, no matter what. Of course, that only meant as in where Ryker wanted to go. Anything physical…

Ashley opened the bathroom door as Alyson stood in a towel. “Wear this!” Ashley said. Alyson grabbed the top of the towel to make sure it was secure. “I’m not wearing your clothes.” “You have to,” Ashley said. “You have to wear something pretty. Like, you know, edgy.” “I don’t have to do a thing,” Alyson said. “You signed me up for this and I actually won. I’m still processing it.” “Just get me an autograph, please. Okay?” “I already said I would ask him.” “Ask him,” Ashley whispered.

“You’re going to actually talk to him. Let him buy you dinner.” “I think whoever is producing this is buying dinner. You realize this is far from an actual date, right?” “What if he wants to kiss you?” Ashley asked. “He’s not.” “What if he does? And there’s cameras there. You’re going to be on camera, tongue humping the guitarist from Willow Son.” “Tongue humping? Are you for real right now?” “I am,” Ashley said. “Please, just live it out. Enjoy one night.”

Alyson opened her mouth to argue but then shut it. There was no arguing with Ashley right now. She had some kind of fantasy in her mind and it wasn’t going to go away anytime soon. “I’m not wearing that,” Alyson said. “That looks like something you would wear under a dress.” “This is a dress,” Ashley said. She touched it. “Hugs your hips. High on the legs. You have great legs¸ Aly. You know that. Women would kill for your legs. They’re tight and toned…” “Stop,” Alyson said. “I’m fine with what I have in my closet.” “Jeez. Okay. I warned you though.”

Alyson grabbed her hair and pulled it back. “Up or down?” “Down,” Ashley said. “It’s sexier. Dirty. Like you’re going to get into bed with Ryker.” “I’m putting it up,” Alyson said. “Oh, so you’re going to go against everything I say?” “Yes.” “I hate you. Can’t I just pretend to be you?” Alyson looked at Ashley. She was two inches taller than Alyson. She had bigger breasts, and was super thin, with blonde hair, and bright blue eyes. She screamed of typical pretty girl with a

wild innocence. Wiping the mirror, Alyson looked at herself. She was damn near the complete opposite of Ashley. “I don’t think it’ll work. You look nothing like me.” Ashley stepped next to Alyson. She crouched down a little and threw some of her hair over Alyson’s. “Look. You look hot as a blonde.” “So hot,” Alyson said. Ashley grabbed some of Alyson’s hair and put it over her head. “And look at me. With your brown hair. I could pull it off.” “No,” Alyson said. “I’m going out

with Ryker. Not you.” “Bitch.” “You shouldn’t have put my name in,” Alyson said. “Now get out so I can get dressed.” Ashley pointed to Alyson’s clothes. “You’re wearing that? I thought that was what you just took off.” “Come on, stop.” “Fine. Sorry.” Alyson shut the door and started to second guess everything. She groaned, mentally cursing Ashley for making her feel so weird. She then dropped the towel and put her hands to her hips. She looked down at herself. A tingling

feeling went through her body. Heat rushed from her cheeks and went down. Her fingers moved to her stomach and then up. Somewhere in her mind she thought about Ryker. Spilling the water on him. Being pulled up on stage. Ryker actually choosing her for this date thing. Biting her lip, Alyson wondered if any of it was actually real. Or if Ryker was just going to be reading from cue cards all night. Just to make him more popular and sell more albums. That’s why Alyson had just grabbed jeans and a shirt for tonight. It probably meant nothing. More of a fantasy for her just because it was the whole famous person thing. Five minutes to seven, there was a

knock at the door. Ashley ran to the door and opened it. It was a guy wearing a suit. He had an earpiece. Behind him were two people, one with a camera, one with a clipboard. “Hi, are you Alyson?” the clipboard guy asked. “No,” Ashley said. Alyson nudged Ashley out of the way. “I am. Hey.” “Alyson. I’m Mark. I’m going to oversee everything tonight. Okay? I know you spoke to Peter and Jess on the phone. Just to keep everything clear… I’m going to need you to walk out of the apartment to the car. Ryker will then open the backdoor and step out. You two

can greet however you want. I would prefer a kiss to his cheek, or yours. Something that suggests you’re close, excited, okay?” Alyson nodded. She then looked back at Ashley. “Real date, huh?” “Whoa,” Ashley whispered. Mark touched his earpiece. “Yeah, she’s here. Uh-huh. Okay. Well tell him to be ready. Yeah. I know what Steve said. Steve’s an ass. I’m not talking about this now.” Mark hit his earpiece again. “Sorry, Alyson.” “That’s fine,”Alyson said. “So, you’re going to walk to the car and then get inside. There are no

cameras in the car. When you get to the restaurant, just act casual.” “I’m going to be on camera eating?” Alyson said. “No. We will have pictures and little snippets. Nothing embarrassing though. I promise.” Mark eyed Alyson. “I’m assuming you’re ready?” Alyson touched her shirt. “Yeah. Why?” “See?” Ashley said. “Told you… you should have worn something else.” Now Alyson felt two inches tall. She looked at Mark. “Should I… should I get changed?” “No time now,” Mark said. “Okay,

let’s get ready for this. Set this up. Uh, you” - Mark pointed at Ashley - “you need to go back inside the apartment. Kind of disappear.” Ashley groaned and backed away. Alyson was in the hallway, her hand on the doorknob. “I’ll point to you,” Mark said. “Then it’s time to go. Don’t worry, if you trip and fall or something happens, we’ll take it again.” “So this is a date?” Alyson asked. “Sweetheart, this is a gig for me. Okay? It helps you. You’re famous for fifteen minutes so take advantage of it. Okay?”

Alyson sighed. Everything she knew in life seemed to be fake. Right down to the first date she had in two months. ** Ryker finished his drink. Someone was going to knock on the window when it was time to open the door and climb out. There was no reason to be nervous, and Ryker told himself he was just anxious. Mostly because this was the last part of this nonsense. At least he got to pick who wanted to go out on the date with. That was good. That was great. Hell, he was looking forward to meeting Alyson again. Part of Ryker knew it

would have been easier to just pick one of those other women. Go on a date, look pretty, then turn the cameras off for a one night stand and get back to being a rockstar. There was one thing about Ryker though… he never chose the easy path. And that sometimes meant not choosing the smart path either. A knock at the window next to him sounded. Ryker put his glass down and slid across the seat. He reached for the door and opened it. There were three people there with cameras. Snapping pictures, recording him getting out of the car. He looked over his shoulder and saw a bouquet of roses on the trunk of the car.

He grabbed them and stood there, putting his right foot against the car. His head almost tilted to the side, as though he was annoyed by the whole thing, keeping the total bad boy rockstar thing going. Then the door opened. If it had been one of the other women, they would have come out dressed in something wild. Sleek, black, tight, showing off leg and cleavage. Not Alyson though. She came out and froze for a second. Her eyes went wide at her hesitation. She stared right at Ryker. With his free hand, he gave a quick wave, silently begging her to start walking. It had to look real, to look natural. If not, they’d probably make her

do it again. Because that’s how real dates worked. Alyson slowly moved forward. She wore jeans. There was a little cut in the jeans on her left thigh. A white faded spot on her left knee, the jeans were ready to give way and rip. That was the right way to wear ripped up jeans. Let it happen on its own. Ryker had to peel the smile off his face and shake his head, wondering why the hell he even cared about the holes in her jeans. Once close enough, Ryker plucked one of the roses from the dozen and handed it to her. “For you, Alyson.” “What about the rest?” she asked, her voice shaky.

“You’ll have to earn those.” Ryker inched to the side and pointed to the backseat. As Alyson climbed in, Ryker looked at her ass again. Just as sexy as when she wore shorts. Only now he couldn’t see as much skin, which drove his mind wild. He may have been playing up the whole bad boy rockstar angle quite a bit, but Ryker knew exactly who he was and what he was doing. Climbing into the car, he slammed the door. The backseat wasn’t nearly as big as that of a limo, but there was a black window divider between the front and back seats. Ryker tossed the other eleven roses to the floor and shook his head.

“Not a roses guy?” Alyson asked. He turned and looked at the woman. The car started moving. “Your eyes are really beautiful,” Ryker said. He inched in a little. “I like that darker ring around them. Almost makes you look evil.” He watched Alyson’s eyes widen as she shuddered. “Evil? Me? No.” “I figured that much,” Ryker said. “Don’t mind the roses. Not my idea. Except just the one. That’s good enough.” “Oh, it is?” “You want to lug around a dozen roses all night?” “Not really.”

“See? We’re meant for each other.” “Take it easy, rockstar.” Ryker slid a hand along the back of the seat. “That I won’t do.” “There’s no cameras in here,” Alyson said. “Exactly. Want to know a secret about me?” “Sure.” “I am everything you think and nothing they want me to be tonight.” “Okay then,” Alyson said. “So you didn’t pick out the roses. But you did give me one. If they weren’t there, waiting, what would you have done to greet me?”

“You want the truth?” “Yeah. I have nothing to lose in all this.” Ryker leaned forward a little more. “A woman like you, I wouldn’t waste a second. I don’t have time to waste. It doesn’t take much to turn everything I have into nothing. So each second counts, darling.” Ryker put an inch between him and Alyson. “Alyson, it’s great to see you again. You look amazing.” Ryker killed the inch between them and kissed Alyson’s cheek. His hand came forward and he gently touched her waist. He lingered with his cheek pressed to hers. His

mouth near her ear. “Trust me, darling, I know this entire thing is all for show, but I chose you for a good reason. So try and ease yourself into tonight.” Alyson nodded. “Can I tell you something?” “Yeah.” Ryker moved back. He didn’t want to; Alyson smelled great. No fancy perfumes or anything like that. It didn’t surprise Ryker at all though. Never before had a woman so laid back grabbed his attention like this. “I didn’t sign up for all this,” Alyson said. “Oh?”

“It’s the truth. My roommate is in love with you. She put my name in the thing hoping I could switch places with her or whatever. She knows I needed the money anyway, but the chances of actually winning…” “And it worked,” Ryker said. “How about that.” “Yeah. Look at me. The most unflattering person on a date with a rockstar. You know all those other women were really big fans, right?” “Yeah.” “They were better equipped for this.” “For what?”

“For you.” Ryker smiled. “And how are you not equipped for me?” “I’m not going to sleep with you.” “That’s a little blunt.” “No,” Alyson said. “It’s me being honest. I don’t want you to get mad at me.” “Trust me, darling, I’m far from mad at you. Let’s get to dinner. Okay?” Ryker sat, his arm still outstretched behind the seat. His fingertips gently touched Alyson’s shoulder. He felt her tighten up. She could play it off all she wanted, but she was nervous. And rightfully so.

This was new for Ryker. He almost wanted this to go beyond the one date. (8) Ryker didn’t expect the small crowd of people outside the restaurant. He had been told that the restaurant was going to be shut down for him and Alyson. There wasn’t supposed to be any distractions. Stepping out of the car, Ryker had ten cell phones in his face, papers, markers, fans shouting his name. It took him back for a second. He spotted one of the producers for the entire thing and the guy was nodding, rolling his wrist as to say Come on, just keep

going. Run with this. Grabbing a marker, Ryker threw his arms up. “You’re fucking up my date!” The fans cheered louder. Ryker signed a handful of autographs, grabbed some phones and took pictures. He then stuck his hand into the car and felt Alyson grab it. A jolt of heat shot through his body. That actually surprised him. As Alyson stepped out from the car, she looked terrified. She was definitely not prepared for this. It was a jarring thing to go through for the first time. To have complete strangers give a damn about you. “Now,” Ryker called out, “if you’ll excuse me, I have a date.”

“Alyson!” someone yelled. “That’s her? Look at her!” someone else yelled. Ryker slipped a hand to the small of her back. He leaned down and whispered, “Hey, trust me on this. Put a smile on your face and walk forward. Don’t let anyone bother you. They’re here to try and take this away from you. Don’t let them, darling.” Moving forward, Ryker kept his hand at the small of Alyson’s back. He slapped hands with fans as men in deep red colored coats came from the restaurant to keep the crowd at bay and to escort them inside. At the doors, Ryker looked back. He saw a camera a

few feet behind them and knew what he had to do. His hand inched down and he gave Alyson a little pinch to the ass. She jumped and yelped. She spun, her hand coming through the air. Ryker had been slapped hundreds of times in his life. Alyson’s hand cracked off his face, sending him stumbling. She turned to see the people yelling, cheering, cameras snapping pictures. Then she bolted away from Ryker. He stood, rubbing his cheek, grinning. This was actually fun. Ryker opened the restaurant door and yelled, “I guess she doesn’t like pasta!” That got everyone to laugh and got

the entire scene to settle. The slap would definitely become a viral clip shown everywhere possible on the internet. Whether she realized it or not, Alyson was going to become famous because of it. The owner of the restaurant, a guy named Jimmy, greeted Ryker. They shook hands, took a picture. Jimmy quickly began to tout his experience, traveling Europe for a decade, working in various restaurants with famous chefs, doing everything he could to bring back the best recipes possible. Jimmy sounded like more of a used car salesman, trying to pawn of a piece of shit car to make rent for the month. Then again, everyone had a hand in the game

in this production. Having Ryker in the restaurant would make Jimmy popular. Famous by association. “Where’s your beautiful date?” Jimmy asked as he kissed his fingertips. He smiled wide showing off a super white set of teeth. “Freshening up,” Ryker said. Ryker walked through the empty restaurant as Jimmy kicked open the kitchen door. He started shouting orders. Someone came up next to Ryker. “Okay, here’s what we’re doing now. We’ll set up cameras in the corners, okay? Just to capture anything that happens. We’ll keep sound at a minimum. So enjoy the conversation. It’s also not

the worst thing if you push at her some more.” Ryker turned and looked at the guy… what the hell was his name? Mark? “Can you just screw off for five minutes?” The guy froze. “Sure.” Ryker found Alyson standing near the back of the restaurant at a window. She was hugging herself. Stepping up next to her, Ryker slipped his fingers into his pockets. “What do you do for a living?” “Why?” “Because you have a wicked hand. I mean, I’ve been slapped a lot in my

life.” “Because you’re an asshole?” “Yeah. Exactly. But that was a good one. I’m going to have a mark on my face.” “Good. You deserve it.” “Look, you know what this is, darling.” “Don’t call me that. Let’s just eat dinner so I can go home.” “Hey, that’s not why I chose you.” Alyson looked at him. “Then why? Because I look different? Or I’m easy? Or what?” “You caught my attention. That’s

why. And I go for what I want.” “Is this you trying to be romantic?” “No. I’m just talking to you. I’m not going to apologize for grabbing your ass.” “I bet you sold a ton more albums because of it.” “That’s not why I did it.” “Then why?” “Because you have a nice ass, darling. And I do what I want, when I want. Cameras or not.” Ryker took a chance and put a hand to Alyson’s back. “Now, let’s grab a bite and finish this up.” “Get the salmon,” Alyson said. “It’s

fresh and the best you’ll ever have.” “You heard Jimmy’s speech?” Alyson shook her head. “Oh?” Ryker asked. “You asked where I work,” Alyson said. “Here, Ryker. This is where I work. I’m having a date with a rockstar in the restaurant I work.” Alyson spun away from Ryker. He turned and watched her walk away. She was insanely sultry from behind, not even having to try to do so. Everything was natural but yet so damn interesting. The table was all set for Ryker and Alyson. She was already seated, Jimmy at the table, shocked to see one of his waitresses as the one who won the

contest. “This one right here,” Jimmy said, touching Alyson’s shoulder. “She’s special. She’s smart. She’s getting her MBA. She’s going to own this restaurant and town someday!” Ryker watched as Jimmy’s fat fingers dug and twisted at Alyson’s shoulder. A heat poured through his body, and it wasn’t the same kind as when he touched Alyson’s back. This was different. This was jealousy. “Let me do the talking,” Ryker said. “I’ll ask Alyson questions.” “Oh, but Ryker,” Jimmy said. “I know this is all… worked out… but

she’s a really…” Ryker could only see Jimmy’s fingers. He moved to the neck of Alyson’s shirt, touching her hair, her neck. That was enough for Ryker. He threw his hand forward and grabbed Jimmy’s wrist. He pulled his grip away from Alyson and then twisted hard. Jimmy’s knees buckled a little and he winced in pain. His eyes were big, white, his face red. “I don’t think she wants you to touch her like that,” Ryker said. “Why don’t you just go get us two of the salmon dinners. Tout yourself to the fucking cameras and leave us alone.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jimmy said. “Is this part of the show?” “How do you think it’s going to feel when I shove my foot up your ass? Is that reality enough?” Ryker broke his hold on Jimmy’s wrist. He then took his seat as Jimmy slipped away. He tried not to notice the cameras, but they were in all four corners of the restaurant. “Does he always touch you like that?” Ryker asked. “It doesn’t matter,” Alyson said. “It’s a part-time job. I wait on people to pay my bills, Ryker. It’s a far different life than yours.”

“No. I asked you something.” “Jimmy is an emotional guy. He says it’s in his roots.” “His roots?” Ryker felt his nostrils flaring. “I feel like pulling the plug on this thing right now. Just to fuck with him.” Ryker turned and then felt something touch his hand. Alyson grabbed his hand with both her hands. “Please. I’m begging you. Just don’t.” Ryker looked at Alyson again. “Fine. For you, okay?” “Thank you.” Alyson tried to take her hand off

Ryker’s and he put his hand on top of hers. He smiled. “For the cameras, darling. It’s going to drive them wild.” “Yeah, okay. All for the cameras.” “I want to know more about you,” Ryker said. “This process has been a little intense for me too. Just so you know.” “Not used to going on dates?” “Not like this kind.” “What’s your kind? Me, naked, on a tour bus?” “If you’re offering…” Alyson pulled her hand away. Ryker leaned forward. “Make the best of all this. You’ll get your money to

pay for whatever. Then I get to fulfill a favor to the guy who has Willow Son signed. That’s how it all works.” “If this is all a joke, Ryker, then why me?” “Because I’m interested in you. So you work at a restaurant, have a MBA, and entered a contest to win cash and a date with me.” “Corrections,” Alyson said. “I work here. I don’t have my MBA yet. I needed the cash, but my friend entered the contest for me.” “What about me?” Ryker asked. “You have to admit this is crazy.” “It’s something.”

“Tell you what, darling. I’ll let you ask me something. Anything you want. Just to cut the tension.” “If you’re so rich and famous,” Alyson said, “then why do this? This seems so…” Alyson looked around and leaned in. “It’s stupid, Ryker. Isn’t it?” “Yeah, it is. See, I got annoyed with the guys and I took off on my own for a little bit. All those videos of me playing the bars, I was alone because I left. We were on tour with an opening band that was a joke. The tour was doomed from day one. We finished the first leg, cut the rest off, and came back home. There’s nothing worse than feeling alone. So I hit the road to see the people.

The fans. The ones who make me feel alive. I kind of screwed the band and pissed off the record company. So this is my attempt to make it all right again.” “Wow,” Alyson said. “That’s a little heavy.” “You wanted to know. But I have to make it all legit. Which means I have to be Ryker times two.” “Meaning?” “Meaning grabbing your ass when the cameras are there. Meaning letting you slap me across the face because it makes good footage. And… well… this…” Ryker leaned across the table and

pressed his lips to Alyson’s. He could feel the cameras burning at him. He could feel heat burning inside him. His next move was to touch her breast, try and do something to get her to throw a drink in his face. Or slap him again. But Ryker caught him touching her cheek with the back of his hand. Then something surprising happened. First, Alyson didn’t pull away. Second, she put her hand to the back of his head and pulled at him. She fucking wanted it. ** What are you doing?

Alyson felt Ryker’s tongue touch hers. An inferno came to life within her core. A raging need overtook all her senses, making it almost impossible to get away. Ryker definitely knew how to kiss a woman the right way. Alyson dug her fingers at the back of his head for a second and then remembered the cameras. The date. The show, or whatever the hell this was. She pulled away from the kiss, almost gasping to catch her breath. Her hands were shaking, her heart pounded. The entire room spun for a moment. “Damn, darling,” Ryker whispered. “We need to pick that up later.” Alyson shook her head. “No. No.

I’m not… this was a really bad idea.” “What was?” “This entire thing. I’m going to kill my roommate for doing this.” “Hey, it’s okay,” Ryker said. Alyson stood up. She looked around the empty restaurant. She had been here just two nights ago, waiting on tables. Taking orders for wine, pasta, salmon, appetizers and desserts. And now she was here with the guitarist from Willow Son? “I need the money but this is wrong.” “Wait,” Ryker said, jumping up. “You won the contest already. It doesn’t

matter.” “To me it does. I feel like a whore. I’m not…” Alyson tried to move and Ryker was right there, his hands at her waist. His touch sent pulses through Alyson’s body. They were far too close for comfort. Way too close for two strangers on a forced date that was being filmed. “Hey,” Ryker said. “What’s wrong?” “I have to go. I’m done with this.” “We didn’t get to eat. Or talk.” “Like that really matters.” “It does to me. I chose you, Aly.” Aly.

There were only a handful of people that called her Aly. And Ryker was by far the hottest, sexiest person to call her that. Him saying it made her panties feel like they were going to melt off her body. “Ryker, you don’t know a thing about me. Just finish this up and do your thing. Go be a rockstar and I’ll go be a broke waitress.” Alyson was able to slip away. She walked toward the front of the restaurant and paused. There were people out there waiting. People with headsets and clipboards, again. Fans wanting to see Ryker again. “Let me sneak you out back.” Ryker was right behind her. She

knew if she leaned back, just a little, she would be against his wide chest. Of course she wondered what that would feel like. Not only because he was a famous rockstar but because he was damn sexy. “I’m sorry,” Alyson whispered. “We can sit down and eat.” “No,” Ryker said. “If you’re uncomfortable…” Alyson turned. “It’s all fake, right? So let’s keep being fake.” Ryker opened his mouth to say something and Alyson didn’t want to hear it. No more cheap words, cheap touches. No more kisses either. Because they were hot and real. They were

dangerous. They returned to the table, where food waited. They ate mostly in silence. Two times one of the producers came to the table and gave suggestions on what to talk about. A guy actually looked at Alyson and slipped her a sheet of paper with questions. What’s it like to be famous? What was your favorite show? Do you have a favorite Willow Son song? It was like a cheat sheet on how to date Ryker. It was beyond ridiculous. “Look, just ask me something else,” Ryker finally said after they finished eating. “How was the salmon?”

“Amazing. Like you said. Thanks for the suggestion.” “Yeah, sure,” Alyson said. She let the sheet of questions fall to the floor. “Do you really want me to ask about the band?” “You could.” “Can I ask you to do something?” “Sure.” “My roommate…” “The one in love with me?” “Yeah. Her name is Ashley. She’s a big fan. She asked me for an autograph.” “I can do that,” Ryker said. “Just as long as I get yours.” “My autograph?”

“Yeah. You’re famous after this. You could throw your phone number under it too.” “Please,” Alyson said. “Hey, this is all bullshit. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to see you again.” “Ryker, save yourself the trouble. You think I’m interesting? I’m not. I’m boring. I’m nothing like the people you get to met. Just please leave it at that.” With that said, the date had officially ended. The last thing they needed to do was walk back to the car. That ended the cameras, the producers, the entire facade of it all.

Ryker kept his promise and gave Alyson an autograph for Ashley. Someone then opened the door to the car to usher Alyson out. “I meant everything I said,” Ryker said as he put a hand to Alyson’s. “I’m going to see you again. Don’t give me your number, that’s fine. But that won’t stop me.” “Isn’t that creepy?” “You tell me, darling.” No, it’s not creepy. It’s kind of sexy, actually. Like really sexy. “I feel like I should thank you for tonight, but it doesn’t really matter. It was all set up. A joke, really.”

“Not to me. I chose you for a reason.” “You keep saying that. Just stop. I’ll see you on stage, I guess.” “No you won’t,” Ryker said. “I’ll see you long before then.” Ryker leaned in and Alyson pulled away. Not even a peck on the cheek was going to happen now. Alyson moved from the car and was relieved to see the apartment. She didn’t look back, even once, and went straight inside. Ashley popped up from the couch and looked at the clock on the cable box. “What the hell?” she yelled. “It’s early.”

“It’s over,” Alyson said. “That’s how it works.” “Wait. That’s it?” “What did you think was going to happen?” “I don’t know,” Ashley said. “More than that. You were gone for a little while.” “Yeah. With fans asking for autographs, people taking my picture, cameras filming, and Ryker grabbing my ass and kissing me.” Ashley’s jaw hit the floor. “He… touched you…?” “Yeah. For the camera. To make himself look like a jerk. Oh, yeah, before

I forget.” Alyson gave Ashley the autograph, signed on the back of a napkin from the car. “I had him sign something for you.” “This is really Ryker’s?” “Yes.” “Wow. And you kissed him?” “He kissed me,” Alyson said. Like that mattered. You were the one who pulled at him. You wanted more. You opened your mouth first. You let him… Ashley grabbed Alyson by the cheeks and planted a big kiss on her. “What the heck was that for?” Alyson asked, wiping her lips.

“You kissed Ryker. I kissed you. So it’s like I kissed him.” “That’s dumb.” Ashley admired the autograph. “So what happens now? I mean, are you going to go out again?” “Ash, this wasn’t a real date,” Alyson said. “It was all staged, okay? I won a contest, won some money, ate dinner with Ryker. Mind you, at Jimmy’s Place.” “No.” “Yeah. So I got to eat dinner at the restaurant I work. How romantic.” “But still. It was Ryker. He’s…” “Yeah, he’s everything you

fantasize about,” Alyson said. “I’m going to bed. I need this night over. I regret all this stuff. I’m pissed at you for signing me up for that contest. I’m pissed that I needed to win because of money. It’s all… just yucky.” “Yucky?” “That’s how I feel. My picture is everywhere now. This is probably going to end up costing me a job.” “Or maybe it’ll help you,” Ashley said. “You never know. I wish you’d look at it differently. Hey, this is huge. You get to tell everyone for the rest of your life that you went on a date with the guitarist from Willow Son. And you

kissed him.” Ashley grabbed Alyson’s shoulder. “Tongue or no tongue?” “Which time?” Alyson asked with a grin. Red color flooded her face. “No… way…” “Goodnight,” Alyson said. She shook Ashley away and rushed to her room. She had to lock the door to keep Ashley out. An hour later she was in bed, waiting to see what would happen next. Yeah, part of her dreamed of Ryker finding her. Tracking down her phone number. Maybe actually going out on a date for real. Then again, Ryker had admitted it to her. He did the contest and date thing because he needed to for the

band and for the record company. Alyson shut her eyes and slept. The next morning she woke up and went to the door to get the morning paper. It was there, as it always was. But… There was something else. The rest of the roses from Ryker. Eleven of them. No note. Just the roses. And just like that, Ryker found a way to make Alyson smile again. (9) Ryker sat on the back concrete step with a beer in his hand. There was something edgy and gritty about having the band in a garage, writing music.

They wrote in the garage and took the music to the studio to record. It was hard for Ryker to play the songs he wrote and give them up to the band. Not that he was actually giving them up, but the idea of sharing them with the world seemed a little strange. They were just songs he wrote on his own about his own life. The door opened and smacked Ryker in the back. He jumped forward and off the steps, dropping his bottle. It hit the ground and shattered. “Aw, fuck,” Brantley said. “Sorry, man.” “No worries. It was almost empty.” “Here’s a fresh one,” Brantley

said. The drummer joined Ryker on the back steps. They twisted off their caps, tapped their bottles together, and then drank. “I’m digging this thing,” Brantley said. “Playing guitar with you guys.” “It’s fun.” “Hey, can we throw drums on it?” “It’s acoustic.” “Drums are acoustic, man.” “I never really envisioned the songs with drums.” “That’s because you’re not a drummer. I have this rig set up where I can play drums and guitar at the same

time.” “What?” “Yeah. You just take the bass drum and put it in front of you. Set up another pedal to hit a block or even a small snare with my other foot. I’m not talking big drums and fills and shit. Just something to carry the songs. Imagine the thumping behind the acoustic sound. It’s really awesome.” “Okay, Brantley,” Ryker said. “We’ll try it.” “I know this is your baby…” “No, bro. This is our baby. It’s our album. It’s Willow Son. It’s not Ryker and Willow Son.”

“Fair enough.” Brantley offered his bottle and Ryker tapped it again. They drank again. “Hey, that footage of that woman slapping you is priceless.” “Yeah. I think my cheek still hurts.” “She really got you.” “To be fair, I really got her,” Ryker said. “I couldn’t help myself. I had to grab her ass.” “That’s a dick move.” “That’s what I was told to do.” Ryker then frowned. The more he thought about it, the more he wished that whole thing could have been done

differently. Maybe he should have just picked one of the women that wore Willow Son apparel. Then he could have swooped through the back door to get to Alyson. He could have had the date with one of the other women. Did all the camera stuff and gotten it out of the way. Harry - or someone - would have had all the information for the other women, including Alyson. “Man, they really set all that stuff up, huh?” Brantley asked. “It’s Portis. That’s how he does business. Sometimes I really think we should just go out on our own once and for all. We could make it happen. We have enough money.”

“Bro, the last thing I want to is become Portis. Let him do his job and we’ll do ours.” “I know,” Ryker said. “I hope all the gimmick stuff is done. We can get down to business, like we’ve been. Really strip ourselves down with this acoustic stuff. Show the fans, show the world who we really are. That’s what I’m looking forward to.” “So you like the drum idea?” Brantley asked. “Of course I do. Anything that helps with the band and the sound.” The door opened again and smacked both Ryker and Brantley in the back.

“Oh, hey,” Colby said. “Sorry about that.” They moved and Colby joined them. “Need a breather,” Colby said. “Too many cameras.” “There’s three,” Brantley said. “Three too many,” Colby said. “Hey,” Ryker said. “At least it’s new music. And we’re going to hit up some bars, like the old days. That’s going to be amazing.” “So,” Colby said, “what’s happening with your date woman?” “Date woman?” Brantley asked, laughing.

“That whole thing…,” Ryker trailed off. He didn’t know what to say about it. Truth was, he wanted to go after Alyson again. Show her a different side of himself, the real side of himself. Take away the cameras, fans, the rockstar status. “The whole thing what?” Colby asked. “Nothing,” Ryker said. “Just nothing. I had to do all that to get us here. Make up for leaving and get Portis to get off our ass a little.” “How long are the cameras staying?” Brantley asked. “Until we finish this song,” Colby

said. “Then they’re leaving.” “Then let’s go finish it,” Ryker said. “Brantley had a hell of an idea. But keep that under wraps until the cameras leave. Let’s go in there and finish it off. We’ve got the song almost ready. Run through it again and then record the demo version before we take it to the studio.” “I like it,” Colby said. “My suggestion though? At the end, all of us come in on the chorus. The entire band. Not five layers of my voice either. Everyone and their own voice.” “Let’s try it out,” Ryker said. As Ryker turned, Colby reached

for him. “Hey. There’s something we have to talk about.” “What?” Ryker asked. He looked at Brantley, but Brantley shrugged his shoulders. “Legal stuff,” Colby said. “Copyright…” “For what?” Ryker asked. “The songs. We have to discuss the credit. Copyright. It all plays into the royalty structure. I don’t want to run into problems with it in the future, you know? Stuff like that could kill a band. The drummer gets muscled down to five percent, the leader singer taking fifty percent…”

“Is that what you want?” Brantley asked Colby. “Hell no,” Colby said. “But Harry mentioned something to me. We have to have a discussion before we sign papers.” “Signing papers on our own songs,” Ryker said. “We’re famous,” Brantley said. “It’s all part of it,” Colby said. “We’ve been doing it for years. It’s just that… all this stuff is yours, Ryker. So we need to hash it all out.” “Simple,” Ryker said. “Yeah?” Brantley asked. The door opened again. Out came

Van and Jett. Now it had become an official Willow Son meeting. “What’s going on out here?” Van asked. “Doesn’t look so good,” Jett said. “We’re talking copyright,” Ryker said. “That sounds like a ton of fun,” Jett said. “Trying to be fair,” Colby said. “The new songs are Ryker’s. Just want to make sure everyone else doesn’t throw a fit.” “Are we hired help then?” Jett asked. Ryker looked at Jett. They definitely knew how to throw jabs at

each other. Ryker hopped up on the step and stuck his fingers into his mouth and gave a quick whistle. “Hey, remember me over here?” he asked. “Everyone look at me.” The band did. “Colby, shut the hell up for a minute, man.” Everyone chuckled. “Jett, you can go screw yourself.” “What’s that on your face?” Jett asked. “Oh, that’s right, you got beat up by a girl.” Ryker gritted his teeth. “Look. I had those songs as my own. I played them when I wanted. They were all

inspired by life. The life I’ve been living with you guys. Writing music, touring the world, being famous, having heartache and heartbreak in the limelight. We’re working on this all together. We’re making this a Willow Son album. Not a Ryker solo album. It’s a fucking Willow Son album. And I’m not going to stand here and treat it any different. I put my ass on the line, looking like an idiot in front of cameras, so we could record this.” “Which means?” Jett asked. Ryker looked right at Jett. “There’s no copyright issues. There’s no royalty issue. We’re a five piece band. It’s

always been equal. It always will be equal. Bottom line.” “You sure?” Colby asked. “You deserve…” Ryker stepped down. “No. The second we do that, the band will never be the same. We got together to write music. To jam out. To get free beer and women, right?” Brantley nodded. “Hell yeah, man.” “It’s always been the same way,” Ryker said. “I’m not changing a thing. You guys want to, go ahead and change whatever you want. This isn’t about money. We’re rich already. We could fall

off the face of the earth and be comfortable until we die. This is about the music. The fans. There’s still a lot of stages we need to tackle.” “That’s music to my ears,” Van said. The door opened yet again. It was Harry. “We need you all,” Harry said. “Cameras want to leave soon.” “Let them leave,” Colby said with a grin. “Can’t do that,” Harry said. He stepped out of the garage and the band started to go in. When Ryker started to walk by, Harry put a hand out. He grabbed Ryker by the shirt. “Hey, we

need to talk.” “More copyright issues?” Ryker asked. “Hardly. Family problems.” “Family? Your family?” Harry shook his head. “No. Yours.” “My family? I have no family. My family is the band. Unless…” “Yeah, unless,” Harry said. “I’m sorry, Ryker. I really am. He called. He’s looking for you.” ** The cameras were gone. The

guitars were packed up. The new song was finished, at least in the sense of making the cameras and Portis happy so they’d go the hell away. Brantley had set up his drum design and it actually brought the acoustic songs to an entirely new level. So much so that the band realized the acoustic songs now had the life needed to become radio hits. There were shows being booked, easily. The hardest part of the smaller bars was the security aspect. How to keep the band safe. How to keep those in attendance safe. Plus, dealing with local police and rules to keep people out of the streets. It almost had the same feel to it right before Willow Son was signed to their big first contract. They used to sell

out bars and clubs with ease. Fans would pile in and pile out of the building and down the block. They’d do anything to hear a Willow Son song live. Each show would bring lots of police, road closures, fines for the club owners, and even fines for the band. Hell, there was one time when the entire band did a one night stint in jail because they couldn’t pay a fine. As exciting as it all was, Ryker sat on the floor, a guitar on its face next to him. He was in the dark, he was alone. Somewhere against the walls and in his memory were the echoing sounds of the music. The silence was always haunting. Next to him was a fresh bottle of whiskey. The cap tight, seal unbroken.

Ryker didn’t want to go down that road right now. Drinking lost its luster when heavy reality hit. Yet Ryker thought about Alyson. He thought about her jeans. Her ass. Her smile. He thought about pinching her ass, having her slap him. Sitting across from her, staring into her eyes, he could feel a sense of loneliness to her. And that was okay. It was okay to be alone. But it was even better to be wanted, wasn’t it? Between his legs, on the floor, was Ryker’s cell phone. He had a call to make. Reaching to his right, he put two fingers to the lid of the whiskey bottle and leaned it back. He licked his bottom

lip. He let it go and the bottle rocked back and forth, glass scraping the concrete floor. There were no scars on the outside of Ryker’s body. No cuts, stabs, or any other marks. But inside, there was a rage that came and went. There were scars to his heart, his soul, scars that challenged all he knew. The right thing would have been to just let Alyson go. She won the contest. She got her prize money. She got a date. She got flowers. She got her fifteen minutes of fame. It was done now. Ryker shut his eyes and saw himself standing at the end of the table, touching Alyson’s waist. He saw himself turning her, putting her to the table,

sitting her on it. Cupping her face. Bringing his lips to hers. Showing her what a man could do for her, to her. What she craved, what she deserved. The right thing would have been to just let Alyson go. Ryker grinned. Ryker loved to be on the wrong side of right. (10) Alyson pulled her hair back, biting her bottom lip. On a good day, it only took one try to get all her hair pulled back. Today was a good day. She let the hair tie go and her hair was done. Her black shirt hugged her body tight, the

way Jimmy liked it. The guys at the restaurant had to wear black buttoned down shirts. Some of the guys were dressed up way too much, almost in suits or tuxedos. The women were told to look nice, but it was good for tight shirts and pants. Apparently that helped to sell more food. Outside the bathroom, Ashley sat at the table, her face way too close to her laptop. “What are you doing?” Alyson asked. “Trying to burn your eyes out?” “No. I’m watching some unreleased videos of Willow Son,” Ashley said. “Their new recording sessions. It’s pretty cool stuff. Want to

see?” Not really. “Yeah, sure,” Alyson said. She didn’t want to see it because she didn’t want to see Ryker. Then again, as much as she didn’t want to see Ryker, she did. And when she looked at the laptop screen, there he was. Leaning against a wall, a big guitar slung around his shoulder, a half smile on his face. He looked relaxed, happy, strumming the guitar. That’s who he really was. Not the guy that was at the restaurant on that date. Maybe he showed a sliver of himself in the car at the end of the date, but by then it was already way too late

for anything. The night, the date, it was all just made up. “You’re staring at Ryker,” Ashley said. “Look at him. Leaning against the wall. Damn, he is fine.” “Yeah, he definitely is,” Alyson admitted. “I won’t lie.” “You should call him.” “I don’t have his number.” “I’m sure you could figure something out,” Ashley said. “You’re sort of famous.” “Okay,” Alyson said. “I’m not famous at all. Not even close to it. Everything that happened is long forgotten. How do I know that? Because

I’m dressed in this stupid tight shirt so I could be a waitress tonight.” “Yeah, you’re right,” Ashley said. “But, hey, your boobs look really good in that shirt.” “I’ll take that as a plus then,” Alyson said. Thirty minutes later she pulled into work. Once inside, she skirted her way through the kitchen, punched in, and went straight to work. The last thing she needed was any cat call nonsense from the guys in the kitchen. The first table was an older couple, both dressed up, celebrating their forty-fifth wedding anniversary. They were nice and it helped Alyson

settle in. The second and third tables were about the same. But as the restaurant started to fill up, Alyson got a strange feeling that everyone was looking at her. People staring, casually pointing, murmuring about her. At first, she blamed it on a sense of dumb paranoia. But then Jimmy came from the kitchen, like he normally did, to talk to the regulars and gossip with anyone who would give him ten seconds. That’s when Jimmy blatantly pointed right at Alyson. That’s when paranoia became reality. Her next table skipped ordering and went straight for the throat. “You’re that girl from the show,” the young woman said. “The one with

Ryker from Willow Son. I know it. Right?” “Yes,” Alyson said. “That was me. I won…” “What was that like? I saw him grab your ass. But I wouldn’t have slapped him. I would have jumped him.” “Uh, yeah,” Alyson said. “Excuse me for a second, okay?” Alyson backed away. One of the other waitresses saw her and said she’d take the table. As Alyson moved through the restaurant, hands started to grab at her. People wanted to know what happened with Ryker. People wanted to take their picture with her! Alyson

politely declined but that didn’t stop people from holding up their cell phones and snapping pictures. Alyson then started to hurry, wanting to get to the kitchen to catch her breath. As she moved, she looked back. There were at least a dozen people watching her. Four people had their phones out. A few others were saying something to each other, probably about Alyson and Ryker. With her head turned, Alyson felt herself crash into something. She heard the rattle of silverware, the thump of a glass spilling, and she put her hands out to brace herself. She turned her head and saw that her left hand was in a plate of someone’s spaghetti. A glass of red wine spilled all over someone. A

man pushed back and jumped up, knocking his chair over. When Alyson pulled away from the table, sauce and strings of pasta flew through the air. That was cause for more pictures. More people staring, pointing, now even laughing. “Our dinner!” the woman yelled. “My blouse!” “Where’s the manager?” the man bellowed. Alyson shook her hands and ran to the kitchen. She smacked the door, leaving a sauce handprint as though it were a bloody print. She rushed to the sink and bumped the dishwasher out of the way. She

grabbed the hose and sprayed her hands one at a time. Then she turned and put her hands to her face. Holy shit, I’m sort of famous. First I was the woman who went on a date with Ryker from Willow Son. Now I’m the woman who took out a table and stuck my hand in someone’s dinner. Her face burned red. She blinked fast, not wanting to cry. A few seconds later Jimmy came bursting into the kitchen. He was red faced, eyes ready to pop out of his skull. He pointed to Alyson and showed his teeth. “Office,” he snapped. “Now!” Alyson took the walk of shame to

Jimmy’s basement office. It looked like an executive office with a long desk, big black chair, and a built in fish tank on the wall behind Jimmy. He kicked at his chair and then stared at the fish tank. “Jimmy,” Alyson said. “No,” he said. “This is probably my fault. I paid for the sponsorship for the date thing. I wanted the attention. Didn’t know you were going to win it.” “Neither did I,” Alyson said. “You could have handled that better. You could have played into it for a second. Taken a picture. Answered a few questions. Goddammit.” “I didn’t ask for it,” Alyson said. “I

was trying to do my job.” Jimmy looked over his shoulder. “Now you made an ass of yourself. And me. Way to go.” “Do you have to be so cruel?” “Yeah, I do. Now I have a scene upstairs to deal with. And I’m short a waitress on a busy night.” “Who called off?” Alyson asked. “Christ, Alyson. You don’t get it.” Jimmy turned. “Go home. Take the hint. Go the hell home and stay there. Okay? I thought if you could come here and handle all this, you’d be good to go. Take it in stride, help with business. But you can’t handle it. You signed up for it.”

“No, I-” Jimmy put a hand up. “You did. You won. And now you can take your rockstar money and go away.” “For how long?” Alyson asked. “Just go. Go out the back door and I’ll tell everyone you weren’t feeling well.” Jimmy then slapped his hand on the desk. It made Alyson jump. She sucked in a shaky breath and walked up the stairs. She slipped out the back door and got into her car. Driving away left her with an empty and lonely feeling. Her hands gripped the wheel tight. She wanted to cry. She wanted to be

angry. She wanted to slap Ashley across the face for making this happen. Oh, and she wanted to find Ryker and slap him again. For being a complete fake asshole. All that did was make Alyson look dumb and more of ten minute celebrity. As though she wanted to become this. Then again, she did want to win the money. She needed that money. By the time Alyson got home, she had tears in her eyes. She slammed the car door shut as hard as she could. She then kicked the door for good measure. Pain shot through her ankle. She put her foot down and stumbled. She leaned against the hood of the car and took a deep breath. She slapped the hood and groaned.

“Why?” “I take it this is my fault?” Alyson yelled and jumped. She dropped her bag on the ground, spilling it everywhere. She hadn’t even realized a car had pulled up behind her at the apartment. The driver was out of the car, leaning against it, arms crossed. Cocky. Arrogant. A son of a bitch who thought he owned the world. Yet he was drop dead sexy. Alyson could only whisper one thing. His name. “Ryker…” **

“Want to go for a ride?” Ryker offered. “Where?” Alyson asked. “Somewhere with cameras? So you can pinch my ass? Act like a dick?” Ryker lowered his head for a second and nodded. “Yeah, I deserve all that. I made all that happen, darling. But you wanted it. You won the damn contest.” “You chose me and then acted different because of cameras.” “There’s no cameras right now,” Ryker said. “And I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since that night. I left those roses at your door when I

wanted to kick it down and fix the date.” “Oh yeah?” Alyson asked. A surge of confidence went through her body. “And how would you do that?” “Are you going to slap me again?” Ryker asked. “I want to. Really bad.” “Okay. I’ll take my chances then.” Alyson stood, desperate to be defiant. She had already been weak and useless in front of all those patrons at the restaurant. Not to mention feeling like crap in front of Jimmy as he tore her apart. Now she was squared off with Ryker. The guitarist from Willow Son. He moved at her, his first step

slow enough, but after that, it was no stopping him. His hands touched her waist and he pushed her back against her car. Alyson tried to gasp, in shock of what Ryker was doing. Her lips parted and then Ryker was there, right there, his mouth touching hers. Their lips came together, Ryker instantly controlling the kiss, hell, taking control of Alyson’s body. As her knees started to give way, Ryker kept her steady. He kissed her again and again, his lips so sexy, so tasty, yet the kiss was somehow perfectly polite. Perfectly romantic. Alyson desperately ached for the kiss to get hotter. For Ryker to do more. Her body and mind battled each other at the

expense of her heart as it raced inside her chest. Then Ryker pulled back. His hands still at her waist, gripping tighter. Alyson felt her lips still puckered, wanting more. “That’s what I wanted to do,” Ryker whispered. “Fuck the cameras. Everything else with it. I shouldn’t have picked you for that date.” “What?” “I should have done something different. But I couldn’t risk letting you just slip away. So… come for a ride with me?” “Right now?”

“Right now.” “Yes.” Ryker lifted his left hand and touched Alyson’s cheek. His thumb stroked her, his eyes burned at her. Holy shit… Alyson wasn’t sure if she ever experienced that kind of look before in her life. Her lips quivered as much as her inner thighs trembled. Ryker knew how to cut straight to her core. He challenged without going after her. That was different to Alyson. And she liked it. They were then in Ryker’s car, driving away. “What happened at work?” Ryker

asked. “You don’t want to know.” “Yes, I do. Tell me it’s my fault.” “Well, it kind of is. People were getting crazy because of me being there. Because of you.” “Ah, shit.” “I blame Jimmy though. He wanted me to be a puppet and I freaked out. I ended up in someone’s plate of spaghetti.” “What?” “Yeah. I fell into a table and my hand went right into it. I spilled wine, splashed sauce, threw noodles everywhere.”

Ryker reached for Alyson’s hand. He lifted it to his nose. “Garlic sauce. Not bad.” “Stop,” Alyson said, fighting the urge to smile. Ryker slipped the palm of his hand against Alyson’s. “I’m really sorry that happened. If I knew…” Ryker didn’t finish. He shook his head, took his hand back, and kept driving. “Where are we going?” Alyson asked. “You’ll see, darling. Trust me.” “Trust you. I know nothing about you. None of this is real.”

“That kiss felt real,” Ryker said. Alyson felt heat spread across her face and down through her body. That was for damn sure. Yeah, they had kissed at the restaurant. And, yeah, Alyson had enjoyed that kiss. But Ryker putting her against her car and kissing, without his tongue, teasing and flirting with her lips for a few seconds… that was just insanely hot. When Ryker finally stopped the car, they were off the main road, secluded. “This is the kind of place were the bad guy takes the girl to kill her,” Alyson said. “So, am I here to kill you?”

“I don’t know.” Ryker opened the door and walked around the front of the car and opened the door for Alyson. He helped her out. His hand slid to the middle of her back and he pulled her close. “You do trust me,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t. But I guess I have nothing else to lose.” “There’s always something to lose. You’re smart enough to know that.” “I’m book smart, Ryker. Life always seems to win.” “Why did you need that money so bad?” Alyson swallowed hard. “That’s a

little blunt.” “I figure I don’t have much time with you right now. So I have to make the best of each second.” “Why?” “Because I’m not done after tonight. I wasn’t done after the first night. If I wanted that whole thing to be a real stunt, I would have picked the woman with the biggest chest, lowest shirt, decked out in Willow Son stuff.” “That doesn’t boost a woman’s confidence,” Alyson said. “Oh? Yet you’re the one standing right here. In front of me. In my secret spot.”

“Secret spot?” Ryker turned and took Alyson by the hand. They walked to the front of the car and Ryker pulled her next to him. “What is this?” Alyson asked. “Look up.” “At?” “The stars, darling. The stars. It’s a nice spot. Block the light from the city. So you could actually see the stars.” Alyson looked up, straining her neck, following the clusters of stars. There were too many to count. “I don’t know anything about them,” Ryker said. “I just come up here once in a while and chill.”

“How many women…” Alyson shook her head. “You know what? Don’t answer that.” Ryker turned and faced Alyson. “Hey. I’m here with you, right now. Nothing else should matter.” Slowly, Ryker reached up and touched Alyson’s cheek. “It’s just us. You want to see the real Ryker? This is me. I’m a guitarist in a band. I make a lot of money and play shows. For everything everyone thinks is bad about me, it’s not. I have the nerve to stand in front of thousands of people and put my heart out there. That’s what we do. That’s why I did what I did with the contest. Because now the fans get to see

a stripped down version of Willow Son.” Stripped down. Alyson’s mind stirred up nothing good. But that was okay. It felt really good. Alyson put her hands to Ryker’s sides. Her thumbs dug at his shirt, feeling muscle hidden beneath. “I don’t know what to think right now,” Alyson whispered. “Whether you’re real or just trying to get something out of me.” “Oh, darling, if I wanted something I’d just take it. I’m here because I want to be here. I want to know more about you. The smart woman finishing her MBA.

The woman who joined a dumb reality show contest for some cash. It’s mind boggling. I’m addicted to the story I don’t know.” Ryker inched closer. “To the story you’re going to tell me.” Ryker’s lips brushed Alyson’s. She put her hands to Ryker’s chest to keep just a little distance. “What makes you think I’m going to tell you anything?” “I like a challenge,” Ryker said. “And I’m not afraid to take a risk. You’re worth it.” Alyson opened her mouth to fight back a little. She liked the flirting, the tension.

But Ryker made his move. His mouth came to hers and suddenly the flirting and tension took an easy backseat. Their tongues touched, a spark of heat jolting through Alyson’s body, making everything feel good. She kissed back at Ryker, an uncontrollable need starting to overwhelm her body and senses. Ryker’s hands came down to just below her ass. He pulled at the back of her legs and Alyson couldn’t believe herself when she jumped up, wrapping her legs around Ryker. She told herself to just take the moment and nothing else. How many women would give anything to be in this position? And here was Ryker, kissing her! Ryker with his hands

now at her ass! Better yet, here was Ryker, carrying her to the hood of the car. He touched her hips and eased her away from his body. Their kiss broke for a second. Even in the night, their eyes were able to lock. Looking into Ryker’s eyes made everything shiver deep inside Alyson. Ryker looked down and he touched her pants. She put her hands to the hood of the car, wondering if she should smack his hand away or just go with it. As she wondered what to do, she leaned back, giving herself to the guitarist. Her pants were open and Ryker touched her lower belly. His hand turned and pressed down, reaching the inside of the panties, following along the natural

curve of her body. When the tips of his fingers touched her silky core, Alyson thrust and scratched at the hood of the car. Her lips parted with a sigh and she leaned forward, wanting to kiss Ryker again. She kissed his cheek. She groaned as Ryker’s rockstar fingers made circles, massaging the wetness he had created. Her head then fell back, her eyes gazing upon the stars. They were beautiful. But that lasted all of a second. Her body was completely tuned in with what Ryker was offering her. His fingers touched her center, pressing, beginning to penetrate her. Then with one wild thrust of his wrist, Ryker slipped two fingers into her. Alyson groaned and

grabbed at his wrist. She squeezed tight and then looked at Ryker again. What are you doing? Do you really want him to stop? Alyson pulled at Ryker’s wrist as she sighed in relief. It just felt so good. “Don’t stop,” she whispered. “I don’t plan on it, darling,” Ryker said. His lips grazed her neck, his tongue tasting her skin. Ryker moved up to her ear and exhaled a breath. Everything about Ryker oozed confidence and sex. Gently, he thrust his fingers in and out of her. Alyson settled in with the motion, rocking her hips along with Ryker’s pleasure filled touch.

Ryker kissed back to her mouth. Alyson put her hand between his legs, feeling an impossible bulge. Her hand shook as she started to squeeze at him. “No, darling,” Ryker said, breaking their kiss. “Not tonight.” “Ryker…” “This is for you. I told you I’m here with you. For you, darling.” Ryker pressed his body tight to Alyson’s. He thrust his fingers deeper into Alyson, twisting them, bringing a rush of pleasure. Alyson reached up and grabbed at Ryker’s shoulders. Ryker pressed his upper body to hers. There was only enough space between them to

allow Ryker’s hand to move. It was so sexy and intense. The wild look in Ryker’s eyes, moonlight glaring off them, a deep, sensually pouring from him. With a soft kiss, Ryker pulled away and whispered, “Come for me. Right now. I want to feel you come, Aly.” Aly… Just hearing it made her toes curl. She pulled at Ryker’s shoulders as the pleasure between her thighs started to run rampant. Ryker sped up, his fingers moving with ease, his thumb then grazing the soft nub of her clit. As Alyson’s body moved, Ryker put his other hand to the small of her

back and held her in place. He wasn’t going to let her move an inch away until she did what he wanted. Come. Finish. Explode with pleasure. Alyson felt a building in her lower belly, a fire that was lit, felt so good, her body quickly inching toward the cliff. When she fell, she fell hard. Her ankles pulled at the back of Ryker’s legs, an instinctive need to have him pump at her. Tear his jeans off. Grab him tight. Pull it to her body. Feel him enter her. “Oh, Ryker,” Alyson purred as the rush of pleasure became climax. Her hands touched his face as she came. Ryker stayed with her as she throbbed. Her brain teased at her, trying

to figure out the last time she came like this, but it felt too good to experience this from Ryker than to worry about anything else. Slowly, Ryker eased himself away from her. His hand moved along her smooth body back to her belly. She felt the moisture from Ryker’s fingers, from her body, and it turned her on all over again. Ryker gently kissed her lips and put his forehead to hers. “Let me take you out again,” Ryker whispered. “The right way, darling. Without the fanfare. Just you and me.” Alyson caught herself nodding. She would have done anything Ryker wanted in that moment. The craziest part

was that Alyson had been at work just a little while ago. She went from her hand in someone’s spaghetti plate to Ryker’s hand in her pants. The entire ride back home, Alyson bit her bottom lip and fought the urge to smile. Nothing could ruin this feeling. That much was true. Until Alyson got home… and found her drunk mother sitting at the door to her apartment. (11) The shower couldn’t get any colder. Yet Ryker stood there, the water pounding his body, fists against the wall,

eyes shut, head back, waiting for the icy water to kill off the raging lust for Alyson that wouldn't calm down. He was hard as a rock and couldn’t ease himself. It wasn’t his typical style to just go after a woman like that without his own personal benefit. But the urge for himself had somehow taken a backseat for a little. All he wanted was to touch and explore Alyson’s body. Her needs, wants, her pleasure. Touch every curve of her body. Find out what made her jump, cry out; what she liked and what she wasn’t sure of. Ryker pounded his fist against the wall and shut the water off. He climbed from the shower and grabbed a towel. The thick cotton felt

good against his body. He shivered a little and stared at himself in the mirror. They band had been put up in a nice hotel to play a shit bar tonight. Such an amazing thing to be part of. Today, however, Ryker had two meetings. And he wasn’t sure which one he was more annoyed by. Stepping from the bathroom, Ryker found a woman sitting on the corner of his bed. She was in a black skirt, and a black button down shirt with way too many buttons undone. Her black hair was pulled back, minus a few strands that hung forward. She took off a pair of black glasses and stared at Ryker with wide eyes. “My birthday isn’t for a few

months,” Ryker said. “Neither is mine,” she said. “But… damn…” She had a bag on the bed and opened it. She took out a notebook and a recorder. Attacking the notebook, she went to work. Ryker crept forward and leaned down, grabbing the woman’s wrist. “You know, a simple hello would work here. Or maybe you just tell me who the hell you are and why you’re in my hotel room.” The woman looked up at Ryker and then looked forward. Her eyes climbed down the rest of his body to the towel. Ryker knew he wasn’t completely

calmed down yet from waking up thinking of Alyson. But whatever. He had nothing to hide. “See something you like?” Ryker asked. “Yeah, I actually do.” The woman stood up. She pressed her body to Ryker’s. “I’m Lacy. I’m here to interview you, Ryker.” “You’re early.” “No, I’m right on time. You’re late.” Lacy looked beyond Ryker. “Cold shower?” “Yeah.” “Long night of drinking?”

“Not quite,” Ryker said. “Then what could make you take a cold shower?” “That’s none of your damn business.” “Let’s make it my business,” Lacy said. Ryker smirked. Damn, if it had been not all that long ago, he’d have Lacy naked in about two minutes. He would have given her a hell of a story to tell. But her dark and lusty look did nothing for him. There were other things on his damn mind right now. Slipping away, Ryker grabbed his bag and went back into the bathroom. “You wouldn’t be the first naked

man I’d ever seen,” Lacy called out. Ryker looked back. “Good to know.” He shut the door and locked it. Once dressed, he found the bedroom empty. Out in the main part of the hotel room, Lacy waited, two cups of coffee ready. Ryker settled up on a barstool and wrapped his hands around the cup. “Thanks,” he said. “Sure. Mind if I get started?” “You already did.” “I’ll leave that part out. That was for my own taking. The benefits of my job suck. So I make my own.” Lacy was cute as hell. Ryker

smiled. “What do you want to know about me?” Lacy put the record on the counter and pressed a button. “He sits there, brooding over a steaming cup of coffee,” she said. “His eyes are dark but far from distant. Maybe he’s curing a hangover from the night before in typical Ryker and Willow Son style, but he’s not. There’s something else burning inside him. Maybe it’s a failed tour. Maybe it’s the dramatic past and present of himself and the other members of Willow Son. Maybe it’s the notion that the once big time, bad boy band now has to compete through reality shows.”

Ryker raised an eyebrow. “What?” Lacy asked. “By all means, keep going.” Ryker sipped his coffee. “Or is it the idea that Willow Son has reached their peak. Millions of albums sold, miles traveled, fans across the world. And then you ask, what’s next? What if there is nothing next? It’s just this. Just the present time. So what is it, Ryker?” Slowly, Ryker reached forward and stopped the tape recorder. “You have a memory. Use it. Don’t record me.” “Fair enough.” “I’m sitting here, thinking about the

show tonight. We’ve always tried to do things differently and always for the fans. So to go back to playing bars… it’s like an homage to where we came from.” “Partying in and out of bars.” “It’s all we had at one point. Just the five of us, a van, and a stage.” “You were homeless at one point, right?” “Aren’t all rockstars?” Ryker asked. “You take that road for what it’s worth and see where it ends. We were lucky enough to end up on top.” “Then you fell,” Lacy said. “Your lead singer got in trouble with a car accident. There were other issues.

Drinking. Drugs. Vicious rumors. You almost lost everything.” “Thankfully that was back before everything was put online.” “I guess that worked in your favor.” Ryker lifted his coffee mug. “Right now, we are focused on the music.” “Then why the reality stuff?” “Because it was fun.” “Fun? Seriously?” “Why do you think we did it?” “You left the band. Why?” “I didn’t leave the band. We came off tour and I wasn’t done. So I did my own thing.”

“By leaving.” “By traveling.” “Without the band.” “On my own,” Ryker said. “No problems with the band. They were doing their own thing.” “Right,” Lacy said. “So now you’re doing an acoustic album, documentary, and bar tour. How does that feel?” “Raw,” Ryker said. “It’s going to be great.” “I heard all those songs are yours.” “They’re the band’s.” “You wrote them.” “The band perfected them,” Ryker said.

Lacy smirked. “You’re not going to give me anything good, are you?” “Like what?” “Tell me about the contest. The date. Why you chose Alyson.” Ryker shook his head. “First off, do not print her name.” “Why?” “Just… don’t. It’s not fair to her.” “She signed up. This is what you get when you put yourself out there.” Ryker felt his nostrils flare. Lacy was right. Sometimes when you put yourself out there, shit happened. And when it did, you couldn't do a damn thing about it.

“Don’t write her name,” Ryker said. “It was all fake, right?” “So there’s no second date? No rockstar wedding?” “No wedding, no,” Ryker said. “Can we talk about the music?” “Everyone knows Willow Son is a great band. What about the guys behind the scenes?” “You’re looking at it. I woke up, took a cold shower, and now I’m talking to you.” “What’s next?” “I’ll meet up with the band. We’ll work on some material…” “Even when you’re traveling?”

“Of course. Technology. We bring recording equipment with us. We write riffs, ideas, whatever works. Then we take it back to the studio.” “But you’re writing in a garage,” Lacy said. “Recording in the studio.” “So you’re going back to go forward?” “Not really. We’re doing what we want. Just like we’ve always done. From the day Willow Son took a stage, it was our way.” “That includes reality TV?” Ryker smirked. “Look, you’re not going to get anything out of me about

that. It was a fun time. A great concert for our fans. I should be the one pissed about it though.” “Why?” “Because I was only able to choose one woman.” “So that’s who Ryker is? There’s no one woman for you?” “Where is she?” Ryker asked. He stood from the barstool and finished his coffee. He pointed to the clock. “What?” Lacy asked. “I have to go. I have another meeting.” “Well, give me something. I

mean…” “Simple,” Ryker said. “Willow Son is still standing. We’re not going anywhere. We signed a new deal with a new record company. Was there a bump here and there? Yeah. No problem. It happens. Did we tour? Yeah. Did the tour end? Yeah. Would we have wanted the tour to go longer? Fuck yeah. But it didn’t. So now we’re taking the acoustic sound to the smaller venues. And it’s going to rock. Because that’s what we do.” Ryker reached across the counter and stole Lacy’s pen from her hand. “End of interview,” she whispered.

“Smart woman.” “Since this has been so informal… can I ask something?” “Go for it.” “The woman you chose for the date. She didn’t fit the bill of the others. Was that staged?” “No.” “So you chose her.” “Yeah.” “Why?” “Because I did.” “And the date…” “You saw the date,” Ryker said. “I’m done talking about it.”

“Thanks for the time, Ryker.” “Pleasure to meet you, Lacy.”

At the door, Lacy smirked. “You know, I didn’t get where I am without instinct.” “What’s your instinct telling you?” “A half naked rockstar finds a woman on his bed. You know damn well what I would have done with you. You took a cold shower. You’re distant. You’re insistent about not naming Alyson.” “And…?” Lacy patted Ryker’s shoulder. “I hope it all works out. For both your sakes.” Ryker slammed the door as Lacy walked away.

He ordered breakfast and the band came crashing into his room. Portis had a theory that if he gave them all separate rooms they’d stay out of trouble. All that did was give Colby and Tessa a room alone, and it gave Jett and Masie a room alone. “How was your interview?” Van asked. “Pointless.” “What did she bother you about?” Brantley asked. “The usual. I really don’t like doing those without you guys. This isn’t a solo thing.” “It’s all for the band,” Colby said. “No worries.”

Ryker stood at the window, feeling distant. He looked at the parking lot, waiting for the car to show up. “What’s wrong?” Jett asked. “Nothing.” “Don’t bullshit me.” “I’m not.” “I’ll fight you.” “That’s the best you’ve got?” “It’s what we do,” Jett said. “Right? The two guitarists battling forever.” “How’s Masie?” “Great. Glad I got to get her to sneak away.” “That’s good, man.”

“What about you?” Jett asked. “How was the interview? She worthy of Ryker’s time?” Ryker laughed. “No. I want nothing to do with talking right now. I just want music.” “That’s a change. You usually love to talk about yourself.” “Thanks.” “Anytime. But seriously, you look skittish.” A car pulled into the parking lot and stopped. It just sat there, brakes lights on. Even from this high up, Ryker just knew… Then his cell phone beeped.

“I have to go,” Ryker said to Jett. “Just stall for me, man.” “What’s wrong?” “It’s Randy.” “No fucking way.” Ryker moved and Jett grabbed his arm. “Hey, brother. Be careful. Your brother is a piece of shit.” “I know.” ** “Get in the car, Ryker.” “I’m not going to get in the fucking car with you, Randy.” “Why not?”

“The first time I was ever arrested was because of you. When I got into your car.” Randy grinned with his dark, evil eyes. “Yeah. That was a shit night. Had no idea my boy was going to set me up to take a fall.” “I took the fall,” Ryker said. “Almost cost me my entire career.” “You’re doing pretty well. I see your shit posted all over the world. You have to be pulling in seven figures a year easily.” “Are you here to talk about money?” “No,” Randy said. “I’m set up just

fine right now.” Randy curled his lip. He played with a gold ring on his pinky. Everything about Ryker’s brother screamed wrong. He should have been the guy to help take care of Ryker but instead liked to beat up on Ryker. Then he got hooked on gambling and drugs. Twice now Randy had done time in jail. “You look nervous,” Ryker said. “Target’s on my back, little bro.” “That’s my problem?” “You got security and shit, right?” “Does it look like it?” “Come on, little bro,” Randy said. “I know there’s some big, tough guys up

there taking orders from you.” “When the time warrants it, sure,” Ryker said. “But I don’t have a permanent security detail.” “What about a private jet?” “Are you fucking serious?” “I am,” Randy bellowed. He pointed at Ryker. “Don’t make me come over there and smack your fucking face. Like I used to do. Right?” “Yeah, Randy, right.” “Hey, who got you your first fucking guitar?” “You stole it,” Ryker said. “But I gave it to you, little bro. We had no fucking money. I needed to make

sure Santa brought you something.” Ryker felt his chest tighten a little. That was the worst part about Randy. He was a selfish dick, but every now and again there was a small glimmer of a halfway decent guy. “That was the same year you never showed up,” Ryker said. “There was a guitar under the tree, along with your booze and drugs. You had gone out and came home bloody. Then someone tried to shoot the house.” “Eh, fuck that,” Randy said. “But seriously, where’s the fucking security?” “What is it, Randy? Just tell me.” “There’s a bounty hunter after me.” “And you want security? You’re in

legal trouble?” “I supplied some stuff to someone I shouldn’t have. Whoops.” “Drugs?” “You really want to know?” “No, I don’t. I want you to leave.” “Hey, don’t talk to me like that, little bro.” Ryker leaned into the car. It stunk of old clothes and booze. “I’m not little anymore. Get out of here.” “So that’s how it rolls? You send your brother packing?” “Packing? What does that mean?” “I showed you your first chord on guitar,” Randy said. “I remember your

little scrawny fingers trying to reach the neck. Strumming and it sounded like shit.” “And now look at me,” Ryker said. He backed away from the car. Randy threw the door open and climbed out. He slapped the roof of the car. “You fuck,” Randy growled. “You better fucking help me.” “Or what? What are you going to do?” “I’ll make calls.” “Then do it. I’m not afraid of you, Randy. You’ll end up in jail, like always.” “Come on,” Randy said. “I’m in

trouble here. I’m using. I’m driving all night. I keep hearing sirens. They’re…” A siren sounded off in the distance. Randy spun around. His face turned white and he instantly started to sweat. “Oh, fuck,” he said. “They’re watching me.” He got back into the car and started it. Ryker stepped forward and looked into the car. He saw Randy grab a bottle from between the seats and take a drink. Fucking booze. “No,” Randy said. He looked at Ryker. “Fuck you, little bro. Sticking me out there like this. I’m going to end up

dead and then they’ll come after you.” Randy peeled away, leaving Ryker standing there. His heart was as heavy as it always was when he had to deal with Randy. A few minutes later, Jett came out to the parking lot. “Ryker?” he asked. “I need to talk to Harry,” Ryker said. “Why? What’s wrong?” Ryker’s heart pounded in his chest. He was pissed off. He wanted to fight his brother. There was only one thing that could ease all this. Alyson. But did she deserve to be dragged

into the limelight rockstar world again? (12) Alyson hugged Ashley. “I’m so sorry about this.” “Don’t be,” Ashley said. “Do what you need to do right now. It works out perfect.” “You keep saying that,” Alyson said. “But I know you don't want to go on vacation with your father.” “No, I don’t want to go on vacation with him or his new girlfriend. But it’s a trip to the islands. Sun. Beach. Sand. Drinks. Sexy boys with tans. I’ll make

do. Just take care of your mom.” “Yeah, sure,” Alyson said. Back inside the apartment, Alyson found her mother in the bathroom on her hands and knees scrubbing the floor. Her face looked haggard, her hair sweaty and messy. “You don’t have to do that,” Alyson said. “Then who will? You can’t live in filth. That’s why you’re single. That’s why you’re peddling your body on television like some late night slut.” Alyson gasped. Late night slut? “Jeez,” Alyson said. “That’s harsh.” “Harsh? How do you think I feel? I find out my daughter is on TV with some

famous guy. I saw him touch your butt.” “I slapped him for that. Plus, it was kind of fake.” “Didn’t look fake to me.” They had the same argument already. Except last time her mother was dead drunk. She didn’t remember how she got to the apartment either. Her purse had been spilled all over the floor, money scattered around. Just like always, Alyson had to clean her mother up and get her settled. Now Ashley was gone, taking her father up on a last minute invite for a vacation. Ashley didn’t want to go, but she didn’t want to stay and deal with Alyson’s mother either.

Alyson’s mother climbed to her feet. She whipped a rag to the sink. She wiped a piece of sweaty hair from her face. “It’s hot in here.” “It’s a bathroom.” “Turn on the air.” “The air is on.” “Must be a hot flash then.” Or a hangover. “Yeah,” Alyson said. “Mom, don’t get mad… but are you okay?” “Just a little embarrassed by my daughter,” she said. “You were supposed to be smart. Getting your degrees and stuff. Getting a good job. To help take

care of yourself. Take care of me. Right?” “Yeah, right.” “Then you’re on TV.” Her mother shook her head. “I saw it. Then I had to hear about it. Oh, they love some good gossip at the diner, let me tell you. My regulars were busting on me. I had people asking questions about you. No wonder I had a couple drinks last night, right?” Her mother smiled. She always had a convenient way of making an excuse. “There was an opportunity,” Alyson said. “Ashley really wanted it and she put my name down… I don’t

know why. I think she just wanted to meet Ryker.” “Oh, Ryker,” her mother said. “First name basis, huh? So my daughter is sleeping with some drug infested guy?” Alyson’s eyes widened. Color flooded her cheeks. They hadn’t slept together, no. Ryker had… “Look at that face,” her mother said. “Just like that time I caught the neighbor with his hand up your shirt.” “Mom!” Alyson said. Her mother left the bathroom with a scoff. Alyson looked at herself in the mirror. Usually this situation worked

itself out in a couple days. Her mother would get mad, cry, drink, feel better, and then end it with asking for money. That’s why Alyson was always broke. She helped her mother far beyond she should have. But if she didn’t and her mother ran out of money, this was the result. When Alyson left the bathroom, she heard the hollow pop sound of a cork leaving a wine bottle. “Shit,” she whispered. She looked at the clock. It was at least close to four. It wouldn’t have been a surprise to find her mother drinking at nine in the morning. “Want some?” her mother asked.

“No thanks.” “Big plans?” “Actually, no. No plans.” “You should be dating someone. Find yourself a doctor or lawyer. Go where the money is. Let everything else fall into place. I tried the love thing once. We all know how that ended up.” “Yeah.” “Don’t do that to yourself. Go for the money. Marry fast. Then if it goes south, you can get half. Set yourself up.” “Mom, that’s why I’m in school. I can take care of myself.” “Yeah, right,” her mother said with a laugh. “You seem to be doing so well

with that. Whoring around the TV.” “Don’t call me a whore.” “I didn’t call you a whore. You’re acting like one.” “I’m not.” Her mother gulped down the entire glass of wine. “Don’t run your mouth at me. I’ll come over there and backhand you.” Alyson bit her tongue, literally. She was then saved by her phone as she charged down the hallway, tears in her eyes. It was an unknown number, but it was still an excuse to avoid her mother. She answered it, somewhere in her heart wishing it was a way out of

everything. That’s exactly what it was. ** Ashley waved her hands as she yelled. Alyson stood on the street corner, grinning. When Ashley dove into Alyson’s arms they almost crashed to the ground. Alyson was able to catch herself - and Ashley. “This is crazy!” Ashley yelled. “This is really happening!” “Relax,” Alyson said. “Just relax. Don’t cause a scene.” “Uh, we’re going to see Willow

Son play. I don’t give a damn about causing a scene.” “You’re lucky you weren’t on the plane.” “Like hell. I would have jumped out.” Alyson laughed. “I can see you doing that. Demanding the plane land. Demanding someone bring you here.” “For Willow Son, yes. Plus… Ryker…” Ashley’s eyes widened. “Stop.” “He did this for you. Maybe he likes you.” Alyson still hadn’t told Ashley about the other night with Ryker. For all

Ashley knew, Alyson had worked and came home. She knew nothing of Ryker picking her up and taking her to see the stars. To see the stars… that’s one way to put it. “Come on,” Alyson said. She took Ashley by the hand. The main part of the street had already been shut down. It was nothing but a giant Willow Son block party. People set up canopies, and were cooking on grills. There were speakers set up with different Willow Son songs playing. The mix of the sound was garbled, but it was a party. Everyone was happy, excited, hoping they had a chance to get into the bar and see the band play.

Police were on each corner, all coordinated to make sure everyone stayed safe. As much fun as it looked, none of it pertained to Alyson or Ashley. Alyson had been picked up by a private car and brought to the bar. Out back there was security, waiting to let the band inside, the road crew, and anyone who had access into the back. That included Alyson and Ashley. Alyson flashed a laminated badge and the guys opened the doors. They went inside. There was nothing glorious about the place at all. It stunk of old wood and grease. The hallway was dark, narrow, three of six lights burned out. There was a door to a bathroom, a

door to the kitchen, and a storage closet. Walking forward took Alyson and Ashley out to the main floor. The place was jammed. People were lined up three deep at the bar, tables pushed against the wall, people shoulder to shoulder on the floor. There was no room to move or even breathe. “Damn,” Ashley said. “We’re not going to get a drink, are we?” “I doubt it,” Alyson said. “It’s going to take an hour to get over there.” “No it’s not.” Alyson turned and saw Ryker standing right off the side of the stage. He was hidden enough to not be seen by anyone in the bar, but he was right there.

Standing in a black shirt with no sleeves. If there was anything hotter than Ryker smiling, it was Ryker smiling in a shirt with no damn sleeves. It took Alyson a few seconds to process the scene and scoop her tongue up off the floor. Ashley let out an ahhh! sound. Ryker lifted his hand to show he was holding two beers. He twisted the caps off and put his hand out. “I guess you could have them,” he said. “Just don’t tell anyone.” Ashley’s mouth was still hanging open, trying to say something. Alyson wasn’t much better, still stuck in a state of awe, amazed that she had gone from taking care of her

alcoholic mother to facing a rockstar right now. “Hope I didn’t ruin your night,” Ryker said. “No,” Ashley said. “She was about to get on a plane,” Alyson said. “Vacation.” “You cancelled a vacation because of this?” Ryker asked. “For Willow Son? Anything.” “Damn. Well, thanks. I take it you must be Ashley.” Ashley slowly turned her head and looked at Alyson. She mouthed, he knows me? “Hey, hang tight for a second,”

Ryker said. He turned and trotted away. “That’s Ryker,” Ashley said. “My heart almost stopped.” “Easy,” Alyson said, feeling a quick sting of jealousy. “Don’t scare him away.” “He’s used to it. Who cares?” “I care,” Alyson said. Before Ashley could ask the obvious question - why do you care? Ryker had returned. And this time, he wasn’t alone. He had the rest of Willow Son with him. Now Ashley covered her mouth, trying not to scream. Even for Alyson, it was a pretty

intense sight. “No way,” the leader singer, Colby said. “You brought the contest woman,” drummer Brantley said. “Don’t worry about that,” Ryker said. “This is Alyson. I know you guys know that already. But this is Alyson’s friend, Ashley. She was supposed to be on a plane right now. Flying away to go on vacation. But she skipped her flight to be here.” “Where were you going?” Jett asked. “Islands,” Ashley said. “Which ones?” Van asked.

“Warm ones,” Ashley said. “Should’ve went,” Colby said with a grin. “Point is,” Ryker said, “they’re here for us. Like the rest of the people. But how about a picture and autograph with Ashley?” “What about Alyson?” Brantley asked. Ryker looked at Alyson and winked. “I’ll take care of her myself.” The words made Alyson blush and feel like she was going to pass out. She then stood there and watched as the entire band signed an autograph for Ashley and took a picture. The second they finished, Ryker took Alyson

by the hand and pulled her close. “I’m glad you came,” he said. “I’m glad you had someone call me.” “Yeah, I should have called myself. I know. I was moving and helping get ready here. I just… needed to see you again, darling. That’s all.” “Ryker,” Alyson said. “I don’t…” “There they are!” All it took was one person to get the entire crowd moving. People cheered, screamed, and pushed to get their way to the side of the stage to see the band. Ryker had no choice but to slip away with the rest of Willow Son. That

eased the crowd a little but not all that much. Everyone was bumping and pushing, trying to see if they could see the band. Eventually, Ashley and Alyson ended up against the wall. The good thing about the small place was that no matter where you stood, you could see the stage. Then, out of nowhere, Willow Son got on stage. They literally just strolled up on stage like they owned it. Well, they did own it. They were famous. They were rockstars. There was a second pause, everyone absorbing what they were seeing, and the bar went crazy. The second Alyson saw Ryker, she nibbled at her bottom lip.

Shit… She felt herself trembling, even from such a distance. Ryker was so bad in such a good way and that was scary. She saw herself quickly losing it all to him, just like the night he picked her up. Touched her. Loved her. Made her feel pleasure. “Hey!” Colby’s voice boomed through a mic. The bar kept cheering and screaming. The rest of the band stood there, waving. Then they all calmed the crowd. “You ready for a little music?” Colby asked. “A little Willow Son?” Jett asked.

“How about some new music?” Ryker asked. He looked around and spotted Alyson. He winked at her and smiled. The band then all grabbed acoustic guitars and set up barstools near the front of the stage. There were five mics, five guitars, and five rockstars. It was going to be one hell of a night. But Alyson didn’t need five… she just needed one. One. (13) Hearing the full sound of the songs he wrote really meant something to

Ryker. Better yet, seeing the crowd singing back to them was pretty intense. The songs hadn’t even been released yet. Which meant people had been watching the videos of Ryker when he was on his own. Or the little snippets of the recording of the acoustic album. That’s how loyal the fans were. They switched in and out of new and old songs, the acoustic sound offering something very different than the normal Willow Son sound. After playing for an hour straight, there were still plenty of songs to go with. The crowd had been mostly calm and collected. The police hadn’t been called, yet. It was a good show. In the

back of Ryker’s mind he almost couldn’t wait for the show to end so he could grab Alyson and get her backstage. Have a drink with her. Keep the night alive with her. “Okay,” Colby said. “Okay. Let me ask you something. I need you to be honest. Can you do that for us?” The people cheered. “Okay. These new songs. What do you think of them?” Everyone applauded. People whistled. People raised their drinks. “Something cool?” Colby asked. “Ryker wrote all those new songs. What do you think of that?” “I love you, Ryker!” someone

shouted. “Take me on a date!” another voice called out. “Just take me!” a third yelled. Ryker laughed. “Wow. Well, I wish I could. I wish I had the time. Being a rockstar has been wearing me down. I never knew this shit was work!” The crowd laughed and cheered. Ryker looked to his left and saw Alyson. Man, he wanted to call her out so badly. But the last thing he wanted was more unwanted fame for her. “Seriously though,” Ryker said. “Without you all coming here and going fucking crazy, this wouldn’t be happening. We’re going to be back on the

road soon. But right now we’re getting these songs ready. It’s been a fight to get the project going. So, are you ready for it?” The people cheered. “Are you ready for the behind the scenes stuff?” Ryker yelled. The crowd got louder. Ryker stood up. “Are you ready for some loud music now? Some fired up, electric, mind blowing, in your face, rock your heart, make you scream, sing, dance, drink up, and never stop loving the night kind of music?” As Ryker caught his breath, the crowd jumped and screamed. The band traded their acoustic

guitars for electric. Brantley behind the drums. Van with his bass. Jett and Ryker holding guitars. Colby at the mic. It was a far cry from the massive equipment set up the band usually had for bigger concerts. This was really stripped down. Really raw. But the second Ryker hit a chord on the electric guitar - and the sound filled the bar - it was like life in his hands. That power and sound made his heart race. He took another breath and looked at Jett. They nodded and looked back to Brantley. Brantley then set the rest of the show off with a quick drum intro. The bar came alive again and Willow Son kept the stage as theirs for

another hour. They ran through as many of the songs as they could, wanting to make sure every person that left the bar left with a story, a memory, something they’d carry inside themselves for the rest of their lives. When the show came to its conclusion, Willow Son stood at the end of the stage and waved. They demanded fresh beers and stood, raising their bottles to the fans that made them who they were. It wasn’t quite the same sight as looking across an arena to see twenty thousand people. Then again, it was more humbling to be able to see every freaking person in the bar. Their faces, features, clothing. At one point in time

the band used to play for ten people in a bar. Then it grew and grew. Then they got signed, broke big, toured the world, and here they were. The band got off the stage and went back to the small hallway. There was no real place to hang out or party. “What a show,” Colby said. “I miss the arenas,” Jett said. “I’m just happy that we played a show,” Ryker said. “Hey,” Van said. “What’s with the date girl?” “Date girl?” Ryker asked. “Her name is Alyson.” “Is that turning into something?” Brantley asked.

“That’s nobody’s business,” Ryker said. “What about her friend?” Van asked. “She’s a cute little thing.” “Hold up,” Ryker said. “Just leave all that alone. Don’t bother Alyson or Ashley.” “What, are you working both?” Jett asked. “Freaking Ryker,” Colby said, shaking his head. “Hey,” Ryker said. “No. I’m not going after her friend. I shouldn’t have even called Alyson to begin with. She doesn’t need any of this. But I like her.” “You like someone?” Van asked.

He stepped forward and smacked his hand to Ryker’s forehead. Ryker slapped Van’s hand away. “What the hell are you doing?” “Checking for a fever, bro. You have to be sick.” “Real funny,” Ryker said. A little swarm of people collected around the band. Some of them were the crew, wanting to know where to put all the equipment. A few people were asking questions, wanting to write articles for the local paper and some online ‘zines. Harry finally showed up, breaking through the crowd. “Outside,” he ordered. They went to the back of the bar.

Outside, there was a barricade put up with security keeping the fans at bay. There were at least a hundred people standing there, cheering for the band. The alley was small. Not enough room for a bus. There were a few cars waiting to take Willow Son out of there. On the opposite of the alley were reporters, cameras in hand, questions flying at the band. These were the moments when it always became a little tense. The security was good but not enough for Willow Son. Truthfully, if the fans wanted to get to the band, they could. “Hey,” Ryker said. He grabbed at Colby. “Come here.” Ryker approached the barricade,

putting his hands up. “You all going to stay the hell calm?” People whistled and cheered. “Don’t make them kick us out,” Ryker said. He went to one end of the barricade and started to sign autographs. Someone handed him a cell phone and he backed up and took a picture of the crowd. He handed the phone back to the person, smiling. The band worked down the line, talking to the fans, signing autographs. It was the best thing Ryker could possibly think of doing for the people. With each slip of the black marker to a piece of paper, a shirt, a bra, Ryker wondered what Alyson was doing. If she

was still inside the bar. If she was going to wait for Ryker to come get her. Because he had a plan for the night. Alyson may not have enjoyed her first night with a rockstar… but she was sure as hell going to love this one. ** The show was amazing. It made Alyson want to see Willow Son on a bigger stage. In an arena. What they would do with a bigger stage and more time to keep playing. She was definitely hooked as a fan now. She definitely understood what it meant to Ryker and the rest of the guys. They weren’t just

strumming guitars and singing words. They were playing their hearts out. Offering their soul to the crowd who sang back to them, and offered their soul back. It was really something magical to witness. The crowd started to thin out, making it a little easier to walk around. Ashley took Alyson by the hand and walked her to the bar. They were able to get right up to it and order drinks. Ashley had a wild sense about her, able to command any place she was at. She ordered herself some kind of fruity drink. “I have to catch a flight,” she said to Alyson. “My father is pissed at me.” “He’ll get over it,” Alyson said.

“Of course he will. He doesn’t want me mad at him.” Ashley turned and faced Alyson. “So what’s your plan tonight?” “Nothing,” Alyson said. “Go find Ryker. That man likes you.” “Stop it.” “I’m serious. He invited you here. He looked at you like ten times. He’s really into you.” “He’s not into me. Maybe he…” “Look, whatever it is, just enjoy it. I’ve watched you work at your degree for years now. You never did anything crazy. Which is fine, I guess. But you

have a chance right now. Have a memory that will last a lifetime.” “Maybe I already have that,” Alyson said with a grin. “No… way…” “I’m not saying a word.” “Yes you are. Talk. Right now.” Alyson sipped her beer, unable to stop smiling. It kind of felt good to finally have something Ashley didn’t have and wouldn’t get. Well, not that she wouldn’t get it. If Ryker wanted Ashley… Jealousy stung Alyson’s body again. She swallowed it down as fast as

she drank her beer. She then felt someone touch her shoulder. When she turned, it was a tall and thick man standing there. “Alyson?” “Who’s asking?” “Ryker.” “Holy crap,” Ashley said. “Can you come with me?” the man asked. “What about my friend?” Alyson asked. Ashley popped up. “I’m leaving.” Alyson spun around. “Right now?” “Yeah. I have to call a cab and then figure out the airport thing. It’s no

big deal.” “To me it is.” “Aly, go have fun. The hot guitarist from Willow Son is looking for you. Go be found or something.” Alyson couldn’t argue it. She wanted to be wanted by Ryker. She then got to walk through the bar, knowing her night was potentially going to be so much better than everyone else’s. For a second, she smiled. Only a second because someone recognized her. Someone called her name and she looked back, figuring it was someone she knew. Maybe from a class or something. She didn’t know the person. But

the person knew her. The person had a cell phone out. “That’s Alyson! From the Ryker date show!” Before Alyson could do a thing, she was swarmed by people. Women were calling her name, among other things. She heard things like bitch and whore a few times. Guys started to grab at her, wanting a picture with her. They were drunk, acting stupid, many of them asking her for a date. Maybe it was all for fun, but Alyson didn’t feel any kind of fun at all. They guy who came to get her wrapped his big arms around her and pulled her through the crowd. People kept trying to get at her though. It was

intense and really scary. If this was the kind of stuff Ryker went through, she understood why he drank and why he acted like an ass for show. Once out of the crowd, the guy let go of Alyson. He kept his arms out, making sure nobody could get to her. “Jesus Christ,” the man said. “I’m so sorry about that. I had to kind of carry you.” “It’s okay,” Alyson said. “That was…” “Just go back there down the hall. There’s plenty of security outside. Nothing to worry about.” Alyson nodded and turned. As she walked the hallway she felt

her entire body still shaking. There were just so many people grabbing at her. For no damn reason either. Just because she had been on a show? It was like for five minutes. She wasn’t famous. She wasn’t rich. She didn’t have the means to protect herself like Ryker did. By the time Alyson got close to the back door of the bar, she paused and leaned against a wall. She took a few deep breaths. She was not ready for all this. Then the door opened and Ryker stood there. The second he looked at her, he ran for her. “Aly. What’s wrong?” She looked at Ryker. All she wanted to do was run

away. Instead, she fell forward, into his arms. And she started to cry. (14) Ryker was completely caught off guard. Here was a beautiful woman, in his arms, crying. He held her close, tight, looking around to see if there was something - or someone - that could have upset her. Because whatever it was, he planned on taking care of it. If it was a person, Ryker would kick their ass from here to next Tuesday. After just a few seconds of crying, Alyson pushed away from him. She kept her head down, hiding her face. She

wiped her eyes and tried turning away. Ryker wasn’t having any of that. He grabbed her and kept her facing him. When she looked at him, her brown eyes shining from the tears, it was like something shocked his heart. His mouth ran dry and for a split second, the outspoken rockstar had nothing to say. That’s what Alyson did to him. “What happened?” Ryker asked. “Out there,” Alyson said. “Just like the other night. When you caught me…” “What?” Alyson looked away again. “Damn, darling, please tell me.” “You!” Alyson shouted. “You, Ryker. All this is happening because of

you. Because of that date. People yell at me, yell for me. They call me names. They want to know about you. They want a picture of me. Guys out there were touching me, saying things to me.” “Tell me who?” Ryker said, feeling his muscles tightening. “I’ll go out there right now.” “It wasn’t just one guy.” Now Ryker was even more pissed off. He took Alyson by the hand. “Come with me right now.” “Where?” “Trust me, okay? I’d never put you in danger, darling. I swear on it.” Ryker led the way outside. People

screamed and cheered for him. Then he heard people yelling for Alyson. Pictures were being taken like crazy, all of them obviously more intriguing since Ryker was with Alyson. He hated himself for the five second walk it took to get to the car. Once inside, Ryker ordered the driver. “Get us the fuck out of here now.” The driver maneuvered the vehicle down the alley. People had the guts to smack at the windows, yelling for Ryker, for Willow Son, for Alyson even. Reporters stuck their cameras right to the windows and took pictures, the lights flashing like giant fireflies. All Ryker could do was hold Alyson’s hand to try and keep her feeling

safe. The fanfare was gone a minute later. Ryker just sat in silence, torn between anger and guilt. “Is it always like that?” she asked. “For us? Yeah.” “How do you do it?” “Without them, there’s no band. So we take it the best we can. For every one crazy person there’s ten thousand that are good people. It’s the music that makes it happen.” “And me?” Ryker looked at Alyson. “What?” “I’m not famous. Or rich. Or have

security like you do. I don’t have a car waiting and can just command people, Ryker. If that guy you sent wasn’t there, I could have been hurt. The people… it was just like the restaurant. I lost my job. I almost lost my life, I think. I don’t know.” Christ. Slowly, Ryker slipped a hand across to Alyson’s shoulder. He pulled at her. “I’m really sorry about that. You just have to know they’re all jealous. Because to them you are famous. Because you know me. It’ll go away. I promise.” “How do you know?”

“I’ve been living it for years, darling.” Ryker reached out with his other hand and stroked Alyson’s cheek. “I had to watch things happen with Colby. With Jett. Brantley, Van, even myself. You saw what happened to Jett. He was painted as some drug addicted burn out, right? People demanding he go to rehab. Everyone has an opinion. It’s worse now because of how fast information travels. I mean, right now, there’s pictures of us online.” Alyson shut her eyes. “Damn.” “Is that a bad thing?” “No. I don’t know. I don’t want it, Ryker. I’m not famous. I have nothing

famous about me.” “That’s not true,” Ryker said. “You’re famous to me. I have something planned for tonight. But I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I don’t want you to be nervous. If this is all too much for you… I can take you home. I won’t be mad at you.” “No,” Alyson said. “No. I don’t want tonight to end. This part, I mean. You and me. It’s all amazing.” “Good,” Ryker said. “Then it’s just you and me. Okay?” “Okay.” The car took them to the studio. The most private place Ryker could

imagine. A way of offering himself to Alyson in a way he never had done with another person. To show her that the guy - the rockstar - who was on the reality show really wasn’t Ryker. Yeah, he was a loud mouth. Yeah, he loved to get in anyone’s face for the hell of it. But a lot of that other stuff was extra fluff to make Portis happy. Anything to get the acoustic album out. “What is this?” Alyson asked. “Recording studio,” Ryker said. “You’ll like it.” “I’m not singing or anything, am I?” “Do you want to sing?” “No. Nobody needs to hear that.” “Do you sing in the shower?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know…” Ryker grinned. She was flirting. He liked it. “I’m sure I can make arrangements for that,” Ryker said. “There’s a shower in here.” “In a recording studio?” “Yeah. You know, some musicians are crazy enough that they sleep in the studio.” “Have you slept in the studio?” Ryker opened a door and held it for Alyson. The door shut with a hollow thud. “Yeah, I have.” “Seriously?”

“I have no time frame,” Ryker said. “No internal clock. I just do what I do. I’ve never punched a clock. I’ve never had a job. This has been my whole life. Writing, recording, touring. So if I’m working on a song, I ride it out until I lose inspiration.” “That’s artistic.” Ryker shrugged his shoulders. “What do you think this is? Processed? Then we just drink and sleep with women?” “Well, yeah. At least that was what the guy I went on a date with seemed like.” Ryker put a hand to Alyson’s waist

and stopped her. He put a hand to the main door to the studio. “Hey, look at me. This is me right now. Not that other shit. I know you don’t want to believe me and that’s fine. I wouldn’t believe me either. But this place, the studio, this is everything to me. I don’t bring people here. This is like my home. My religion. Where I find hope. I seek out peace. Where I share everything with the world, yet I try to keep it all so secret. Understand that?” Alyson slowly nodded. “I was just joking…” “I know. But I need you to trust me. Trust what I’m showing you. Giving

you.” “Okay. I do, Ryker.” “Forget about what happened at the bar. Screw that stuff. You’re here. They’re not.” Alyson nodded again. Ryker moved his hand down the door and touched Alyson’s hand. He leaned down and couldn’t help himself. He needed to kiss her. He needed to taste her sweet lips again. The kiss kept going, Ryker inching closer, pressing his body to Alyson’s. He slowly put her against the wall, tasting her mouth. His tongue wrestling with hers, their seconds together adding up, just the way he wanted tonight.

There were other intentions with the way Alyson’s hands grabbed at Ryker’s shirt. It was almost enough for him to lose his damn mind, but Ryker kept composure. He pulled away and grinned. “Now let’s start our evening together,” he said. He opened the door and took Alyson into the studio. After a quick tour of the massive control board and computers, he had a little treat waiting in the recording area. The large and echoey room had all of Willow Son’s equipment there. Different drum kits set up by Brantley. Guitars hung on the wall, leaning against the wall, on the floor like

piles of a bones. Amps, cords, mics, everything a rockstar could ever imagine. “You’ve slept here?” Alyson asked. “Not in this studio,” Ryker said. “Sometimes, the best rockstars would even set up tents and spend nights. Days. A week or more. Just completely check out of reality.” “I never realized that.” Ryker sat on an amp and reached behind it. He had called in a few favors and had some wine delivered. He pulled out two glasses and a bottle. “Drink?” he asked. “Are you serious?” “Yeah.”

“Are you trying to be romantic?” “No. Not at all. If I wanted to be romantic…” Ryker reached behind the amp again. He had ordered eleven roses for Alyson. Just like the night of that damn date. “This is me being romantic.” He gave Alyson the roses. She smiled, her cheeks turning almost the same shade of red as the roses. “There’s eleven,” Alyson said. “That’s kind of our thing, isn’t it?” “We have a thing now?” Ryker stood from the amp. “Yeah, darling, we definitely have a thing.” Rkyer opened the wine and poured two glasses. He handed Alyson one.

“Now,” he said. “I want to know about you.” “I’m nothing compared to you.” “How can you say that? I’m sure what you do is far more interesting than me. My life is one track.” “Being a rockstar. Making tons of money.” “Sure. And you?” “Waitressing tables. Well, I used to. Getting my MBA. Figuring out life.” “That’s exciting.” “Not sure. College is expensive.” “That’s why you needed the money from the contest?” “Sort of.”

“What else would you need it for?” “Nothing.” Ryker put his glass down. “Hey, I really want you to trust me.” Alyson stared at him. Damn, she’s stunning. “Okay,” Alyson whispered. “Okay. I’m broke. I wanted my MBA to make something of myself. But I don’t feel it anymore. It feels like a time suck. I’ve had job interviews, but no real good offers. My last interview… the guy made innuendos about me and him together so I could get ahead. I only survive because Ashley’s apartment is paid for by her rich father. Oh, and Ashley is going on

vacation because my mother decided to show up. She does that when she’s broke or in trouble.” “Christ, that’s a heavy load,” Ryker said. “Is your mother in trouble?” “No. Well, yeah. She’s a drunk. She can’t help herself and I’m always the reason.” “Your mother is an alcoholic?” Alyson reluctantly nodded. Ryker stepped back. “And here I am, offering you drinks. Getting you a beer before the show. A bottle of wine now. Aly, I’m so sorry.” “Why do you keep calling me Aly?”

“What?” “You did a few times. Why?” “It just came to me,” Ryker said. “Is that bad?” “No. Just that… nobody really calls me that.” “Truthfully? You’re crazy beautiful. And I see Alyson as the smart woman finishing her degree and killing it out there in the world. But Aly… that’s you. Right now. The woman in front of me. Vulnerable. Worried. Trying to hold herself tough.” Ryker touched her cheek. “I’m sorry about your… stuff. I shouldn’t have offered you drinks.” “Ryker, I’m not a drunk. And you

can call me Aly anytime you want. It makes me feel different.” “Different how?” “Warm inside.” Ryker put a hand to Alyson’s wine glass. He took it from her. His hands touched her waist and slid around and down, grabbing her ass. He lifted and pulled, making Alyson jump up. He walked her toward a half stack speaker and sat her on it. “Warm inside,” Ryker whispered. “You deserve more than that inside you.” “Oh yeah?” Alyson asked. “What else?” Ryker looked right at her, going for the kill. No more games.

“You deserve me,” he said. ** Alyson made her final decision. She really wanted Ryker. She wanted him in a way that wasn’t completely foreign to her but was definitely something that hadn’t come to her in a long time. Better yet, the fact that Ryker was the sexiest man she’d ever met and his hands were on her body. His hands teased the bottom of her shirt. When his fingertips touched her bare skin, she shuddered and kissed back at him. He had been commanding their kisses for far too long. Alyson kissed harder, faster, wanting more of

Ryker. She got just that. Ryker’s hands moved up and over her breasts, cupping her over her bra. His strong hands offered a gentle squeeze that shot desire straight down between her legs. Her left leg hooked around Ryker’s leg and she pulled, wanting to feel his thickness touch her. Forget that he was famous, that he was a rockstar. Forget that she was in a studio, that all of this was more along the lines of a fantasy than some sort of reality. It felt good. It felt really good. Ryker’s hands slid around to her bra. One quick flick of his hand and her bra was unclipped. His left hand then came down to her lower back. His other

hand came back around, touching her bare breast. Alyson closed her eyes and sighed. The touch of a strong man, holding her, allowing herself to become exposed to him. Using his thumb and pointer finger, Ryker rolled her tender nipple, bringing it to an instant hardened state. Alyson jumped and hurried to claw at Ryker’s shirt. She had waited too long for this in her mind. Screw trying to be calm and wait. It was time to go crazy. Right here. Right in the studio where Willow Son recorded music. Alyson brought her mouth back to Ryker’s, kissing him. She slid her cheek along his cheek, feeling the stubble of

his facial hair. At his ear, she whispered the only thing she could. “Take me, Ryker. Take me.” “Oh, I am, darling,” Ryker said. “Don’t worry.” Ryker lifted Alyson’s shirt. He let her bra fall to the floor. To the floor of the recording studio. Alyson tore at Ryker’s shirt. He allowed it up and over his head. Before it could hit the floor Alyson had her hands on his chest. Her fingertips moved down, feeling defined muscle touching his stomach, right down to his jeans. She leaned back a little on the piano, her mind still wrapping around that fact that she had a rockstar all over her. But then she told herself

that he wanted her. That she had something to give to him. That she could offer her body in such a way, along her heart. When Ryker touched her face with both hands, the world felt like it stopped spinning. His thumbs rubbed her cheeks, a burning look in his eyes. As Alyson breathed heavily, she never felt so exposed to someone before. Ryker pulled at Alyson, bringing their bodies together. She felt his strong chest touch her breasts. Another wave of heat poured through her body. Their lips touched. They kissed hard, again. Then it stopped. Their noses flirted for a few seconds. “It’s not just tonight,” Ryker

whispered. “It’s not just a date.” Alyson didn’t know what to say back. So she didn’t say anything. She put her hands to the back of Ryker’s neck and pulled. She wanted his mouth to hers and never wanted him to leave. They kissed as Ryker’s hands moved down her body. Down over her bare breasts. Down along her belly, right to her pants. He opened them and pulled Alyson from the piano. The kiss broke as Ryker started to kiss down. Alyson put her head back, feeling his lips and tongue caressing along her neck. There was a line between a romantic kiss and a sensual one. Ryker blasted through that line with the very tip of his tongue, going right

down to her breasts. She looked down as Ryker’s tongue swirled around her left nipple. Alyson groaned and thrust her chest at him. She touched the back of his hair. He stayed there only for a brief moment though. He kept kissing down her body. His hands touched the sides of her pants and panties, sliding them down to her ankles. Alyson stepped out and was completely nude for Ryker. His hands climbed up her legs and stopped at her hips. His thumbs teased at her hip bones. Alyson felt her entire body quivering with need. Ryker kissed just below her belly button. His eyes looked up at Alyson’s. There was a brief

pause and Alyson bit at her bottom lip. Everything, Ryker. You want it… take it… Alyson slowly opened her legs. She reached back and touched the smoothed edge of the piano. She watched as Ryker continued his descent down her body. His tongue touching her smooth skin, seeking out her sex. When he touched her with his tongue, Alyson groaned and her hips rocked. Ryker gripped harder, keeping her steady. She felt him find her clit and make circles. Alyson’s legs instantly began to tingle. The pleasure was instant, running from her breasts down between her legs. Ryker kissed her sex, flickering his tongue, teasing and tasting her. As

fast as he started, however, was how fast he started to kiss back up her body. It left Alyson’s muscle tight, her desires desperate for more. She grabbed at his jeans, having enough foreplay. Ryker’s jeans were open, Alyson’s hand finding his hard thickness. She pulled him out of his jeans, looking down, her jaw dropping at the sight of his cock. Her hand scaled up to the tip. She squeezed and then pulled, never wanting a man as bad as she wanted Ryker right then. Ryker put his hand to Alyson’s and pulled her away. He guided himself to her body, pressing against her core. There was a moment when they stared at

each other, letting it all sink in. Ryker then reached back and pulled out a condom. Not for a second did their eyes lose each other’s as he sheathed himself. It was all in silence, a moment that was perhaps the sexiest of Alyson’s life. The fact that a man like Ryker could be in silence and still steal all her desires filled her with a wild sense of need. Speaking of filling… Ryker touched between her legs again. The pressure was immense, but staring at him, Alyson eased herself. With each gentle thrust, Ryker entered Alyson. He pressed until their bodies were fully connected. Alyson was full, her lips moving, but she had nothing to say.

Ryker put a hand to her lower back and pulled. His other hand touched the back of her head. He kissed her and started to love her. Pulling back, thrusting deeper. Rocking his body with hers, exploring every depth of her body. Alyson moved with him, the tingling feeling quickly becoming an uncontrollable wave of pleasure. Then Ryker became something even hotter. He stood, taking Alyson with him. Their bodies still together. He held her, turning, walking her toward the glass window in the studio. He put her against the window and started to have her again. Faster, harder, Ryker’s mouth and tongue kissing from her chest up to her

neck. “Darling, you’re perfect,” Ryker whispered into her ear. “Yes,” Alyson moaned. “Keep going. Don’t ever stop.” Ryker put his hands to Alyson’s ass. She pressed her upper back and head against the glass, offering herself to Ryker over and over. She held onto his shoulders, feeling him pounding deeper, waves of pleasure cresting, crashing, rebuilding. Her toes were curled tight enough that her legs started to hurt. But everything else felt so damn good it didn’t matter. Her left hand slipped down Ryker’s arm, feeling the definition of his bicep. She pictured him on stage,

holding a guitar, thousands of people cheering his name. And yet, here he was, with the greatest show ever, all for her. “Oh, fuck,” Alyson whispered as the pleasure reached its apex. Her hips started to shake as a warm throb started deep in her belly. Her breath was stolen as she started to come. Ryker thrust deep and pulled back, still having her body as she climaxed. Alyson reached out, clawing at the window, her hand slipping along the glass. Ryker grunted as he worked Alyson through her intense orgasm. It was by far the best she had ever experienced in her life. And Ryker was still going.

He turned, taking Alyson from the glass window. Moving to his knees, he placed Alyson on the ground. Never once did he leave her body. His right hand cupped behind her head, keeping her comfortable. His left hand explored her entire body, top to bottom. And he continued to love her, thrusting, pushing, pulling back, grunting as he held out as long as he possibly could. Finally Alyson whispered, “Not just tonight, Ryker.” She touched his hard chest and felt herself reaching another climax. Just in time for Ryker to reach his own. (15)

Ryker never saw a woman as beautiful as this. Wearing one of his button down flannel shirts, her hair messy from sleep - and sex - sitting across the table, her hand touching a steamy mug of coffee. One thing Ryker didn't want to do was look at the clock right now. Because now time was against him. Time was going to take Alyson away from him. She had things to do. He had things to do. The band was meeting in the studio to finish up a couple parts of some songs. Then they had a meeting with Portis. He claimed to have some good news for the band. Ryker secretly prayed for a tour.

But when he looked at Alyson, he wasn’t sure how much of a tour he really wanted. “What are you thinking about right now?” Alyson asked. “You keep staring at me and your eyes are spinning.” “Forget about me,” Ryker said. “What are you thinking about?” “My final project to finish up this degree,” Alyson said. “What is it?” “Don’t worry about it.” “No. Tell me.” “It’s boring.” “Anything I’ve experienced with you, darling, has been far from boring.”

“Okay. It’s a project for a nonprofit rehab center. Trying to think what I know and want.” “Because of your mother?” Ryker asked. “Yeah.” “Damn. I’m sorry. How long has it been?” “My entire life,” Alyson said. “She always wore more on her shoulders than she needed to. I used to try to take some off her and help, but it was never good enough. Even this time, she slipped because of me.” “You? What did you do?” “I was on TV with you,” Alyson

said. Ryker shut his eyes for a second. “I don’t even know what to say.” “You don’t have to say anything,” Alyson said. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. She looks for an excuse and I’m the best target.” “So she shows up drunk?” “Yeah. She’ll quit her job, piss all her money away, and then I’m left dangling to take care of her.” “And you do that. And still finish all your work to get your MBA?” Alyson nodded. “That’s impressive,” Ryker said. “I’m no stranger to drunks and

alcoholics. I know what that’s like.” “Someone close?” Ryker nodded. “Yeah.” “A parent?” “Basically.” “Who?” Ryker stared at her. Simply beautiful. A woman he literally picked for himself. A woman he couldn’t get out of his mind, out of his heart. “Randy.” “Randy?” “My brother. Randy.” Ryker felt anger swell in his body. “It was just me and him growing up. I get mad because I wanted him to do more for me. But he

had no business with that, right? He wasn’t my father. But that didn’t mean he had to drag his addictions and demons through my life for years.” “Wow. I had no idea.” “He’s a curse. A secret. I’ve done all I could to keep him out of my life. But he gets into trouble and shows up. He thinks I can fix his problems.” “Sounds familiar,” Alyson whispered. Ryker rose up and walked around to the other side of the table. He crouched down, touching Alyson’s bare leg. “That’s why I feel it, darling. You and me. From the second I saw you. I

just knew it. This isn’t a joke, or a show. You make things feel okay inside me. I’ve let you in, Aly. I never let anyone in. The studio. My apartment. Even my heart.” Alyson blushed. She turned and faced Ryker. With a hint of seduction, Alyson opened her legs, letting the long shirt pull up, showing Ryker her panties. Ryker gritted his teeth. “You’re going to make me late.” “I thought you didn’t go by any time?” Ryker smiled. He loved that Alyson just called him out on something he said to her before. He put both hands to her legs and

moved up his own shirt that she wore. Touching the lines of her panties set his body on fire. His cock ached in his pants, having more room in his pajama bottoms than his jeans. Bringing his thumbs together, he pressed against Alyson’s center. She jumped and let out a hiss. Ryker moved his hands around to her back and he came forward, bringing their bodies together. Their lips crashed, a wild smell and taste of coffee and the morning. It was insatiable. They kissed for a couple minutes, hands touching, lingering somewhere between want and need. “Ah, fuck it,” Ryker growled as his lips touched Alyson’s. “Who needs to

record an album? I’m already fucking rich and famous.” Ryker stood and took Alyson with him. She let out a giggling cry. It drove Ryker even more wild. He never wanted someone like this before. Not just the physical connection, but everything else that came with Alyson. In the bedroom, Ryker kicked the door shut and went right to work. He put Alyson on the bed, he on his knees, between her legs. She bent her legs, looking so fucking sexy right before him. Alyson put her hands to the bed and waited. Ryker unbuttoned the shirt, from the bottom up. With the last button undone, Ryker opened the shirt and stared at Alyson’s

chest. Her breasts were full, beautiful, a creamy color. His hands cupped, his thumbs teasing over her rosy nipples. Alyson shook and groaned, her nipples reacting to his touch, become hard. Easing down her body, Ryker moved off the bed and grabbed at the top of her panties. He quickly pulled them down, tearing them off her body. He leaned forward, his right hand moving between her legs, touching her sweet and tender sex. Two fingers rubbed gently, feeling the wet heat of her desire. He teased, letting his fingertips test her, barely entering her, just enough so she’d thrust her hips at him. Then Ryker took his hand away. “Darling, you are perfect,” Ryker

said. “In every way possible.” “Yeah?” Alyson asked. “Yes. Trust me.” Alyson then sat up. Her hands slipped into the top of Ryker’s pants, guiding them down. She moved fast, with purpose, her hand cupping around the thick root of his erection as he popped free. She lovingly stroked him up and down a few times, making Ryker full and harder than ever. His legs and ass tensed, the urge to thrust, to fuck, was hard to fight off. Then Alyson gave him a wild look. She inched forward, pressing her lips to him. Ryker let out a groan as she opened her mouth, those pretty, thin lips sliding over his cock. She moved on

him, her mouth and tongue making it even more impossible to hold back. Ryker put his fingers to her shoulder and pulled at her. “More, darling, more,” he whispered. Alyson moaned and listened. She took him in as far as she could and then slowly pulled back. It was like sensual torture, feeling her slide against every sensitive part of his shaft and tip of his thickness. “Oh, yeah,” Ryker groaned. Alyson’s mouth came off him. Her hand then went back to work, stroking him. She pushed back on the bed and nodded to Ryker. All he could hear was her voice

from before. Take me. Yeah, he was going to take her. Not just the first night, or the second night. Not just this morning either. Ryker climbed on the bed. His hands devoured Alyson’s perfect, curvy body. His mouth devoured hers, making his heart pound and race. And with his body, he devoured her desires. All he wanted now… was her love. ** Ryker got into the studio late. Really late. “Almost canceled the session,”

Colby said. Jett looked at him. “Everything good?” He was obviously referring to Randy. “All is well,” Ryker said. “Just ran a little late.” “A little,” Van said. “Good news is we finished up the songs,” Brantley said. “Just need your two cents on them.” “That I can do,” Ryker said. He dropped his guitar case and opened it. There was a folded piece of paper on the guitar. He grabbed it and opened it. It was a note from Alyson.

Stole your shirt. But I’ll return it. If you want to see me again. Ryker folded the note and grinned. He had no idea why she would even think for a second he didn’t want to see her again. Ryker felt like canceling the recording session for good and going to find Alyson. Scoop her up in his arms and take her away somewhere. “You with us, man?” Brantley asked. Ryker stood, grabbing his guitar. “Ready.” Colby gave a thumbs up. The sound guy behind the glass pressed a button and a song started to play. The acoustic sound was strong, sharp, far better than the sound of the songs when

Ryker played them by himself. During the solo, Ryker played along, note for note, the solo recorded the way he had written it. The perfect snap of the acoustic guitar strings, those single notes that were played beautifully slow, let each sound carry its own way to the next one. That’s what made the acoustic sound so amazing and sometimes really hard to work with. It left the song exposed. The music. The lyrics. It was all exposed. Exposed. Ryker stopped playing guitar and stopped listening. Exposed was a great word. He never talked to another woman about Randy. He never let a woman into his own personal space like he did

Alyson. Maybe it was a way to make up for the stupid first date nonsense. But Ryker felt more. The song started to fade and Ryker gave a thumbs up. “That works,” he said after the song ended. “Fade it out. Let it do its thing.” “I think we’re almost done here,” Van said. “Portis wants this to be ready and distributed as soon as possible.” “Anything else we need to add?” Jett asked. “I mean, I think we have enough footage to make the video to go along with the album. The garage was a good setting.”

“We should bring the cameras here,” Ryker said. “Do a really stripped down song. Pick one. We drink. We play. We hit record. A bonus track and video.” “Drunk in the studio,” Colby said. “Like cliche rockstars.” “Might as well bring women here too,” Brantley said. “Make it a party.” Ryker grinned. “Wait a second,” Van said. “What the hell is that?” “What?” Colby asked. “Look at the glass. What…” Ryker turned and saw it just as the rest of the band did. A smeared handprint. On the glass.

It was Alyson’s handprint. “That’s a handprint,” Van said. “So what?” Ryker said. “Someone touched the glass.” “No,” Brantley said. He used his drumstick to point to the handprint. “Let’s examine this.” He grinned, looking like a lawyer in a courtroom. “This is the evidence.” “Of what?” Ryker asked. “Some hot sex in the studio.” “No way,” Jett said. “Hey, you met Masie in a studio,” Van said to Jett. “It wasn’t us.” Everyone except Ryker looked at

Colby. “Please,” Colby said. “If I did, I won’t admit it.” “Just look,” Brantley said. He pointed to the start of the handprint. “Look at the way the hand moved. Like she was curling her fingers, clawing, scratching, desperate to grab at something. At someone.” Ryker swallowed hard. He relived that moment with Alyson in his memory. When she climaxed with a wild explosion, it brought their connection closer, more fierce. “Then it ends here,” Brantley said, still using his drumstick. “So she was pulled away from the window.” He

looked around the floor. “She was put down on the floor, right here in the studio. My guess is that she came first… then she was put on the floor so someone else could come…” “But who?” Van asked, smiling. Ryker felt everyone looking at him. “What?” “How was date girl?” Colby asked. “What’s her name again? Alyson. Right?” “Give it up,” Ryker said. “We have to go meet with Portis and Harry. Let’s focus on the music.” “This is far more important,” Brantley said.

“How so?” Ryker asked. “You do crazy shit all the time,” Jett said. “But lately you’ve been calmer. Plus, you made it clear that the studio was off limits. You never bring women here. This is your place.” “So there’s your answer,” Ryker said. “You figured it out.” Ryker took a few steps away. “So I wonder who it was then,” Brantley said. “I mean, nobody in the band would lie, right? Especially Ryker. Not after what he did to us already.” “Oh, Christ,” Ryker said. He looked over his shoulder. “Yeah, it was me, okay? I brought Alyson here. To

show her who I really am. Not the moron that was on TV for that date thing.” “And the real you put her against the glass?” Van asked. “Hey. Leave it be.” Ryker turned and moved to the glass. He grabbed the bottom of his shirt and wiped at the handprint. “It was just some fuck, okay?” “Wait,” Colby said. “Are you saying you like someone? Beyond what’s in their bra and between their legs?” Ryker threw a hand out and grabbed Colby’s shirt. “Don’t talk about Aly like that.” Colby put his hands up. “Slow down,” Brantley said,

putting a hand to Ryker’s arm. “Sorry,” Ryker said. “I’m wound up.” “I see that,” Colby said. “You called her Aly,” Jett said. “Is this thing for real?” “Yeah, it kind of is,” Ryker said. “Wow,” Van said. “Ryker has a girlfriend.” Ryker has a girlfriend. That was something new. Ryker had dated, but he never had a girlfriend. He never had any interest other than the music, the life, and everything that came with it. Now he was falling for a woman who was as far from the rockstar life as you could get.

And that made it even better. It made it tempting. It wouldn’t let Ryker go. “Yeah,” Ryker said. “I have stuff going on, okay?” “I thought this place smelled like sex,” Brantley said. Everyone started to laugh. Ryker pushed away from Colby. “I hate all of you. This isn’t the easiest thing for me right now. She’s caught up in my fame and it’s not fair to her. This is tough.” “Just follow your heart,” Colby said. “That’s all you can do, bro.” Ryker already damn knew that.

That’s what he scared him most. If he was going to follow his heart he was going to end up… with Alyson. (16) “It’s the second notice. If I can’t get a money order I’m done. I’m going to be homeless. And Linda said she’ll change the locks and sell my stuff to pay what’s owed.” Alyson crash landed from rockstar to reality really fast. From the second she walked into the apartment, it was a barrage from her mother. Instead of having Ashley attack her with questions, it was her mother yelling at her. And

now this bomb. An eviction notice. Well, the second notice. It seemed Linda, the landlady, had been trying hard but enough was enough. “Your rent is so cheap,” Alyson said. “This doesn’t make…” “That’s the good thing,” her mother said. “You don’t need to give me that much.” Of course not. It’s never that much. It’s always just enough. But it’s never actually enough. There will never be enough. “I…” “Don’t do this to me,” her mother said. “I did my best with you, Alyson. I

always did. I told myself, ‘Barb, you can slip and fall, but always get back up for your little Alyson.’ That’s what I always say. Still to this day. Last night, I’m checking the window at midnight. Wondering where you are.” “I’m an adult,” Alyson said. “I can do whatever I want.” “Oh, tough woman now. Sleazing around with a rockstar.” “It’s not that.” “Look at you! You’re hair is messy. You smell… well… you’re wearing another man’s clothing.” Alyson felt herself becoming more and more deflated. She had no response.

What was she going to do? Lie? What good would that do for her? “No response,” her mother said. “As always.” “Why can’t you take care of yourself?” Alyson asked. She quickly jumped, knowing her mother had the potential rage to swing at her. Her mother hated the truth. She always hated the truth. “I take care of myself,” her mother said. “You…” “I’m fine. I’m happy. I’m finishing up my MBA. I have a place.” “That’s paid for by someone else.” “I have someone in my life I care

about.” “Who? That guy from TV?” “It’s not like that,” Alyson said. Her mother rose up. She came close. Her breath had a mix of coffee and alcohol. The bags under her eyes looked like they weighed two hundred pounds. “It is,” her mother said. “You’re not famous. You’re not going to be famous. I don’t want to be in your way, Alyson. I’m just trying to be your mother.” “Then be it,” Alyson said. “Stop attacking me.” “Do you have the money so I can avoid this eviction?”

“No. I don’t. I have worked…” “Fucking a rockstar and now you’re broke. You’re trashy, Alyson.” “You have a drinking problem.” Then came a stare off. Alyson braced herself to be hit. She gritted her teeth, tightening her neck, trying to get ready to take the hit. But it never came. Her mother backed off, touching her cheek. “Who are you? We’re supposed to take care of each other.” “You’ve never…” “You watch your mother, girl.” Alyson frowned. “I’m sorry. I’m broke.”

“Then ask your rich boyfriend. I’m sure he could take a night away from snorting drugs to help someone.” “He doesn’t take drugs, Mom.” “They all say that.” “Ryker is different.” “So was your father.” Alyson felt a pain in her chest. It only got worse when her mother started to tear up. She then grabbed a set of keys off the coffee table. Alyson knew she should have jumped at her mother, trying to get her to stop. But that didn’t happen. Her mother left the apartment, slamming the door hard behind her. And Alyson stood there, frozen, hurt.

She hoped her mother would come back in, regretting leaving. Part of Alyson never wanted to see the woman again. The cycle was going to keep repeating itself. When Alyson finally did decide to move, she went into her room. She opened her laptop and pulled up her final project. The project that would seal the deal on getting her MBA. All she had to do was run through it again and submit it. Worst case, her professor would email back with suggestions. Best case, it would get accepted and Alyson could graduate. She’d get that expensive piece of paper in her hand and just look at it. Then she could suck it up and accept a job. Anywhere. Just to start. Just to have

something to show for herself. Reading the project was painful. Her idea for the rehab center was a shot in the dark. But it made sense. It was a place for people like her mother to go, with different stages of help. Not just for people who needed to stay there for extended periods of time. Not just for people who got together in the basement of a church once a week to talk. It would be a full center. So if someone like her mother had a bad day at work, she’d have somewhere to go. Someone to always talk to. A place to feel comfortable and battle her demons. Because that was the thing about addiction. You didn’t just defeat it once. You battled it every single day. And

some days you were stronger than others. The project was done. The financials made sense. All the necessary requirements were met. It showed a full spectrum from concept to design. Heck, the only thing it needed was a backer. Someone with a few million to toss around for the hell of it. Alyson hit send on the email and then sighed a shaky breath. She closed her email and started looking for Willow Son videos. She stumbled across a set of videos from years ago when the band had just broken big. There was Ryker, in sunglasses, a cut off shirt, holes in his jeans. Standing like a total bad ass, a guitar around his neck, leaning against a

sleek motorcycle. Two women stood with him, their hands all over his body. It made Alyson jealous and nervous. Was this who he was? The video didn’t get much better when Ryker turned his head, kissing each woman. It looked like some shoot for a promo and it faded out to the band playing a concert. But it stuck with Alyson. She was just a regular woman. Struggling to survive. She didn’t have anything to offer Ryker. She couldn’t compete with women who were used to the rockstar life and everything that went along with it. Then she looked at the videos of her and Ryker’s date. The view count

was in the millions. Millions. Millions of people who saw her. Saw the entire processed thing. Saw Ryker grabbing her ass. Saw her turning and slapping him. But then there was a part when Ryker stepped up to her when she was looking out the window. The way he gently touched her. “He cared,” Alyson whispered. That night he cared. Even with the cameras and all the fake stuff going on. Still tired from the wild time with Ryker, Alyson climbed to her bed. She shut her eyes and slipped away for a nap. A ping sound woke her up. The softest of chimes, but her instinct knew it was an email from her professor. She sat

up and looked at the clock. It was three hours later. That was a decent enough nap. Alyson sat at her desk and checked. It was her professor. And it was official now. She was going to graduate with her MBA. Years of working on and off and now finally putting her heart into it. It was here. It had happened. Alyson grinned. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted someone to celebrate with. But nobody was there. She was alone with good news. Then there was a knock at the

door. Alyson feared it was the police. Who else could it be? Ashley wasn’t even in the country right now. Three hours was long enough time for her mother to go out and really get into trouble. As she approached the door, she tried to convince herself that this wasn’t her fault. Even if she tried to tell her mother the truth. Even if she let her mother leave. It’s not my fault. It’s… not… my… Alyson opened the door. … fault… She stared and started to cry.

** “What happened?” Alyson felt Ryker’s strong arms around her, holding her. She shook her head.

The emotion came out of nowhere. Just so much at once. And then the last person she expected to see, but the first person she wanted to see, actually was there. Ryker. “Aly, talk to me,” Ryker said. Alyson looked up at him. A strong, sexy man. A wild rockstar. The man who was slowly stealing her heart. Not that Alyson truly kept herself guarded, she never expected this. Not with a guy like Ryker. “My mother stormed out,” Alyson said. “She’s behind on her rent and about to get kicked out of her apartment for good. Then I got an email… I’m

officially graduating. I’m getting my MBA.” “That’s amazing, darling,” Ryker said. He stroked her hair. “I’m happy for you. I’m proud of you. That takes a lot.” “Do you always focus on the good?” “Ah, there’s enough bad shit in this world to take anyone down. I’ve lived in that world. I’ve seen that world. You don’t want anything to do with that world.” “My mother…” “Is a grown woman. If she needs help, then let’s get her help. Not just give

her money, right?” “I’m sorry,” Alyson said. She backed away and wiped her eyes. She shook her hands and let out a groan. “This is stupid. This doesn’t even involve you. This is my personal life.” “Hey,” Ryker said. “This matters to me. If it matters to you. I want to help.” Alyson looked at Ryker. “You want to help. Why?” “Why?” Ryker asked with a grin. “Maybe because I care about you, Aly. I’m not here right now for a jump and then to leave. I told you that before. I’m not doing that with you. I’m serious.” There was a tightness in Alyson’s

chest. One thing was for sure - Ryker was making it harder and harder not to fall for him. “There’s nothing I can do,” Alyson said. “I told you how she is.” “I know. And I’m still sorry about that. If there is anything I can do. I can call someone for you. We can track her down. Make sure she’s safe.” “No. She’s a grown woman. You’re right.” Alyson walked toward the table. “Do you want something to drink? Coffee? Water? Beer?” Alyson looked over her shoulder, smiling, trying to be flirty. Ryker was right there. His hands grabbed the bottom of Alyson’s shirt,

which was technically Ryker’s shirt. He pulled her to his body and slipped his arms around her waist. “Hey,” he whispered, his lips teasing against her ear. “You’re still wearing my shirt. I like that.” “It’s been a weird day,” Alyson said. “Yeah, I know the feeling. Do you need to get changed?” “Do you want me to get changed?” “I’d prefer you naked.” Alyson groaned. “Men.” “You asked. I said the truth.” “I could use a shower,” Alyson said.

She stepped forward, reaching back, grabbing Ryker’s hand. “Oh, am I getting the grand tour of the apartment?” Ryker asked. “Yeah, sure. Two bedrooms. A kitchen. A dining room. A living room. There, you got the tour.” “Can’t forget about the bathroom,” Ryker said. “You won’t.” Alyson looked forward and bit her bottom lip. She liked her moments when she was able to actually flirt to actually get Ryker a little off center. But doing that turned her on wildly. The second she shut the bathroom door, Ryker was all over her. He spun

her around and unbuttoned the shirt, again. Alyson moved fast, opening his jeans, demanding his clothes off with her touch. When her body was on fire, there was no stopping her needs. Ryker had awakened her. That was for damn sure. Ryker’s hands touched her waist, then around to her ass. She felt him slip between her legs, his rigid sex pressing against her center. “Water,” Alyson said. “I mean… the shower. Now.” “Are you commanding me now, darling?” “Yes.” “I don’t think so,” Ryker said. There was a fury in his eyes. It

was deep and intense. “Ryker, I want to feel you. All of you. Just… you and me…” “Darling, are you taken care of?” Ryker asked. Alyson nodded. “Yes. I’m okay. I want to feel everything.” Ryker lifted her with ease and walked her to the shower. He reached and turned the water on. He pulled the lever and the shower started. Cold water splashed from the wall to Alyson’s body, making her shiver. But it was okay, the front of her body was pressed hard against Ryker’s burning hot body. They kissed, waiting for the water to warm up. They kissed long beyond

that moment, going until the bathroom started to fill with steam. That’s when Ryker stepped into the shower. The water hit Alyson’s body and she felt every muscle tighten, then slowly relax with a soothing feeling. Yet her heart was pounding, between her legs throbbing, her body in a war between relaxing and demanding Ryker. He put her against the wall and put his forehead to hers. “Damn, darling,” he said. “You don’t understand what you do to me. It’s nothing I’ve felt before.” The water beat against them from the side. Water splashed, dripped, the entire scene, their corner of the world

the most perfect place ever. Alyson’s hands started on Ryker’s face. She playfully clawed at his cheeks as he pressed forward, entering her. He opened her gently, offering her a full feeling that made her groan. Ryker held there, gritting his teeth. “Fuck,” he growled. He pulled back and thrust. Alyson’s back bumped against the shower tile with each offering of Ryker’s body. Her hands slipped down to his neck. She put her head back a little until she hit the wall. Digging her fingers into the back of his neck, she pulled the rockstar to her own neck, wanting to feel him taste her. Ryker kissed down, around, then

down some more. Battling the shower water, Ryker loved her and kissed down to her breasts. He teased, flickered, then kissed right back up, demanding her mouth. They kissed as though they were never going to kiss again. At first, it was wild and hot. But then Alyson started to worry. The way Ryker held her, touched her, fucked her, she knew something was happening. All her thoughts and worries were chased away as she climaxed. Her body was then hotter than any water that could spray from a shower head. Alyson wrapped her legs tight around the back of Ryker’s legs and pulled with each of his thrusts. Soon, he began to hit spots deep within her core that nobody ever

had. And nobody ever would. Alyson’s cries echoed in the bathroom. Ryker’s grunts did the same. His hands dug hard into the flesh of her ass. His pumps were beautifully thorough, right up until he started to come. Alyson felt his cock throbbing, pulsing inside her. Their lips found each other’s again and they kissed. Long after Ryker was done, they continued to kiss. Alyson felt him ease down from their intimate moment but he never left her body. As far as Alyson was concerned, they could just stay right there in the shower all day long. The idea was great, but there wasn’t enough hot water for it. In fact, there was only a few more

minutes of hot water. The water started to get cooler and then cold. Ryker turned the water off and wrapped a towel around Alyson’s body. He then stood behind her, hugging her. “I have to talk to you,” he whispered. There it is. I knew it. “What?” Alyson asked. “I’m going on the road with the band for a week. Press and shows.” “Okay. Is that all?” “For now, yes,” Ryker said. Alyson looked back and up at him. He wasn’t telling her everything. And part of Alyson didn’t want to know. Maybe it was better to just live in the

fantasy of it all. (17) The shows were loud and long. The fans were loud and loyal. Everything with Willow Son was in full swing, except a little emptiness in Ryker’s heart. Life on the road was always good, but not having Alyson right there near him changed everything. Not that he was thousands of miles away or countries away from her, but the distance still bothered him. Especially with something burning in the back of his mind. He should have talked to Alyson about it already, but she had been upset about her mother. Then they got into the

shower and the rest of the day became a blur until it was time to leave and meet the band. Bar shows, eager fans, and the acoustic album ready to launch had the band at an all time high. They were in a hotel after their last show - for now - and Ryker caught himself staring out a window. Just like before, Jett was the one who walked up to him. The two guitarists stood there, in silence. There had been so many rumors about Ryker and Jett competing, fighting, battling over the years, it should have put a strain on the band. At one point there was a major article done on the state of Willow Son with Ryker versus Jett.

Who would win the battle of guitarists? If Willow Son had to choose… as a band… who would be in and who would be out? Better yet, which guitarist could move on from Willow Son and actually do something? Their pasts made the war in words even better. But the effect from all the talk and rumors was Ryker and Jett in the limelight, putting Willow Son there too. Every monthly guitar and music magazine had something about Willow Son. “You’re quiet again,” Jett said. “I know.” “We notice. Everything. Want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” Ryker said. “I’m sure you can put the pieces together and figure it out.” “You really like that girl.” “Yeah.” “You don’t want to sign that contract.” “Nope.” “That’s a tough call,” Jett said. “I saw how all that shit plays out with Masie, bro. The lights. The stage. The opportunity that just wasn’t the right one. It’s not a good feeling.” “You almost beat the piss out of another band’s lead singer.” “He deserved it,” Jett said.

“I’m not arguing that,” Ryker said. “I would have done the same damn thing.” Jett put a hand to Ryker’s shoulder. “And if I had my way before Masie got involved with all that… I would have told her not to.” “Good to know.” “Hey, we’re done on the road for now. We have all the footage we could possibly want for the album and DVD release stuff. It’s in the hands of Portis and his guys.” “That’s what scares me. I feel like we’re going to be held hostage.” “Nah,” Jett said. “We’ll prevail,

man. Before you know it, we’ll have new songs and a new tour lined up. Hit the road, play every arena we can.” “We’ll need a good opening act.” “We’re picking the opening band,” another voice chimed in. It was Brantley, holding a bottle of beer. He was swaying a little. “That gives me an idea,” Ryker said. “What’s that?” Colby asked. “Let me sit on it.” “Bro, I’m just going to say it,” Van said, leaning against the couch with his eyes half open. “We need to hold Portis fucking hostage, man. Right? Tell him

what we are going to do. And… like…fuck you with your money…” “Okay, Van,” Colby said. “You need to hit the couch. It’s time to call it a night.” Everyone laughed as Colby took Van’s drink. He then pushed him over the back of the couch. The bassist landed on the couch and was asleep a few seconds later. “There,” Colby said. “Like putting a big baby to sleep.” “A big baby,” Brantley muttered. “That’s about right.” Ryker turned and faced the window again. His mind spun faster than

he could remember. Maybe not since the night before the band signed their first deal. Big wheeling and dealing record execs were breathing down their necks. There was money, tours, studio time, everything five young guys could imagine. It was set in a world when people bought CDs, didn’t have cameras in their phones, and when companies shelled out lots of money for music. Nothing like today. That night, Ryker stood and looked out the window of an apartment where the band had been partying. He was good and lit up, knowing he should have been in bed with someone. But he stood at the window, knowing that when he signed the papers, he’d get a seven figure check

and in the blink of an eye everyone would know who he was. At that time, he was cocky and ready for it. Now, he was actually a little nervous. The big rockstar and the bigger wall he put up had been cracked by Alyson. He missed her. He almost hated the entire fame scene because of what it had done to her. “Man, you are just not here tonight,” Jett said. “Just saying.” “You’re right,” Ryker said. “I’m not. This is the first time in my life that I didn’t want to be in a hotel or on a stage right now. I don’t even want to be playing guitar. I’ve found something else that’s interesting to me.”

“A woman,” Colby said. “Always a woman,” Brantley said. “You guys are ridiculous with this stuff. I’ll never settle down.” “Nobody said I was settling,” Ryker said. “I’m just missing her.” The room fell silent. Van let out a wild snore. “Man, he’s going to feel like hell tomorrow,” Jett said. “It’s Van,” Ryker said. “He could drink a gallon of whiskey and wake up the next day like nothing happened. I don’t know how he does it.” “The bar tour is over,” Colby said. “Right? So we get to go back and figure

out the next part of this thing. That’s what we have to look at right now. Finish up those songs for the actual album. Get out there, give the press everything they want to put our names everywhere. Then we’ll be on the road with a big tour. I can see it.” “Depends on what Portis wants in return,” Brantley said. “The guy is an ass,” Jett said. “But he is a genius with some of his marketing tactics. Everything he’s said has been truth.” “I hate that part,” Ryker said. “I really hate that part.” A cell phone vibrated on the

counter. It was Ryker’s. “Harry,” he said. He looked at the clock. “Way too late for good news.” “Shit,” Brantley said. “Maybe he heard Van snoring,” Colby said. Ryker snickered. He took the call and Harry demanded the call be put on speakerphone. “Everyone with me?” Harry asked. “Everyone except Van,” Ryker said. “He’s passed out.” “Okay. Well, his loss, not mine.” “What loss?” Colby asked.

“I have some good news.” “Good news this late?” Ryker asked. “The new acoustic stuff has gone over amazing with Portis and his team. The video footage is like nothing I’ve ever seen. It’s done perfectly intimate. Exactly what you guys wanted to do. Oh, and Portis decided to throw the album out there as a special pre-order kind of thing.” “Wow,” Brantley said. “Sent it out to your fan club and mailing list. Full acoustic album for a big discount. Just to test the waters.” “And the waters were…?” Colby

said. “Hot,” Harry said. “One of Portis’ guys didn’t add a code to the link. So it got shared. Went viral. Have you guys checked your phones at all? Been online?” Ryker grinned. He looked at the bottles of beer and booze. “We’ve been preoccupied.” Harry laughed. “You guys… you got over a million downloads in two hours. Portis left the link up. It’s climbing by the second. You’re going to top every chart possible. This is potentially record setting.” “What about the video stuff?”

Ryker asked. “That will be added as a bonus,” Harry said. “Those who buy right now get it included in digital format. We’ll still release it on DVD, but Portis wants to add tonight’s show as a bonus to attract more sales.” “Christ,” Colby said. “He’s good.” “He’s really good,” Harry said. “That’s why… Ryker…” “Not right now,” Ryker said. “I’m not talking about it.” “I think we do need to talk about something else though. Can you take me off speakerphone?” “No,” Ryker said. “Anything you

need to say to me privately you can say to the guys. We’re family. We’re brothers. No secrets.” Brantley put a hand to Ryker’s shoulder. He nodded. “It’s about Randy.” Ryker felt his throat tighten. “Is he dead?” Ryker asked. “No,” Harry said. “I had been keeping tabs on him after the hotel thing. I know he came looking for you and wanted money and protection.” “I’m not worried about that,” Ryker said. “What happened to him?” “He got arrested.” “Christ.”

“Tried robbing a store. Got caught. He was drunk.” “He’s back inside?” “Yeah,” Harry said. “I’m sorry, Ryker. I just wanted to throw it to you before the press gets it.” “Fuck,” Brantley said. “The press will want that?” “Of course they will,” Harry said. “It’s the fallen brother of a rockstar. Think about Ryker’s past. No offense, Ryker.” “Yeah, sure,” Ryker said. “Well, let them do what they want.” “It’s not that easy. If they want to go after him. Talk to him.”

Ryker gritted his teeth. “I’ll cross that bridge later. Is that all you wanted, Harry?” “Yeah. Sorry to top it off with some bad news. I just didn’t want you to read it online and get upset.” “It’s good,” Ryker said. “It’s good. Thanks for the good news.” Ryker ended the call. He put his hands to the counter. “Hey, brother,” Jett said. “Let it out if you need to.” “You did the album,” Colby said. “That was your idea. And look at it.” “Yeah,” Ryker said. He pushed from the counter. “I need to go.”

“What?” Brantley asked. “I need to go right now.” “Whoa, man,” Colby said. “It’s late.” Ryker threw a hand and grabbed Colby’s shirt. “I’m fucking leaving.” “Hey,” Jett said. He grabbed Ryker by the shoulder. Ryker turned and shoved Jett. Jett stumbled back and then lunged forward at Ryker. The two tangled and went up on the counter. Beer bottles tipped over and rolled to the floor, shattering. “Stop!” Brantley bellowed. Ryker didn’t want to stop. He wanted to attack. He wanted to fight. The two guitarists went to the

floor in the kitchen. Ryker had his hands tight around Jett’s shirt as Jett did the same to him. They kicked and fought and stood up. Ryker then felt something grab the back of his neck. He turned his head and saw Brantley. The drummer had some serious size and strength. The two guitarists were broken apart. Brantley kept them apart. “Fuck! The two of you.” “What?” Ryker asked. Jett smacked Brantley’s hand out of the way. He picked up Ryker’s phone off the floor. He tossed it to Ryker. “Call for a ride. Don’t be a dumb ass.”

“Thanks,” Ryker said. Ryker walked to his room and grabbed his bag. He grabbed a guitar case and turned. Jett stood in the door. His shirt was torn up and stretched. “What?” Ryker asked. “Tell Alyson she’s achieved something not even me or the band has.” “Which is what?” Jett stepped forward and put a finger to Ryker’s chest. “She got to your heart.” ** Alyson sat up in bed and wiped her eyes with a tissue. She felt

completely alone. Even though Ashley was in the next room, sleeping, trying to catch up on sleep from her vacation and jet lag, Alyson felt utterly alone. Jimmy called and apologized. Working at the restaurant was easier now. Alyson’s fifteen minutes of fame had come and gone. Nobody bothered her for a picture or asked about Ryker. A couple people asked her if they knew her and Alyson simply said she had been working at the restaurant for a long time. That took care of any questions posed. Tonight, she wasn’t in bed worried about her job. Or her degree. Or her graduation that was just a week away. It was that her mother had finally gotten herself completely in trouble. Kicked out

of her apartment, possessions lost, and forced into a treatment center. The cost was far too much for Alyson to think about, although her mother’s landlady took some pity on Alyson and allowed her to sell some of the mother’s jewelry to get her into the center. Twice now her mother had called, crying, begging to get out. She was free to go on her own, but she didn’t. Somewhere in Alyson’s heart she hoped that meant her mother understood that it was important to get cleaned up. Of course their last conversation ended with her mother blaming Alyson. Telling her that she was the reason she drank. That when Alyson came home from the hospital as a baby, she cried too much. She was colicky and

cried all night. The only thing that took the crying away was booze. Not for Alyson, but her mother would drink herself to sleep and leave Alyson crying. The truth hurt a lot and reality was sometimes a curse. Alyson hugged her knees in the dark room and wanted a sign. She wanted to believe in signs. They had to be out there, right? They had to exist. A butterfly. A cardinal. The shapes of the clouds. Even rain at the right time. They were all signs. Now the darkness in her room perhaps represented something else. Or not. It was darkness. Complete darkness.

Alyson’s phone lit up and vibrated with a text from Ryker. That at least brought a flicker of a smile to her face. The text, however, changed everything. Darling - go to the door. Alyson crept to the door with her heart racing. She opened the bedroom door and found… nothing. The apartment was dimly lit from a light above the range. She walked through the apartment. Her mouth was dry. Part of her said Ryker had sent something to her. Something cute, romantic, nothing more. Part of her wanted it to be Ryker. All of her wanted it to be both. At the front door, Alyson

unhooked the chain, opened the deadlock, and opened the door. There was a guitar case there. A bag next to it. “What…” She turned her head and saw the door to the landing open and Ryker walked in, tucking his cell phone away. He stepped to the guitar case and bag and reached for Alyson’s waist. “I’m here, darling,” he whispered. “Right where I want to be.” Alyson was in shock. She wasn’t sure whether she should yell, cry, or do both. So she just stood there. Her knees felt like they were going to give way. Her heart raced faster. Ryker’s touch to

her waist set her body on fire. Her lips trembled, fearing what she was going to say first to him. Ryker never gave Alyson a chance to talk tough. He stepped over his guitar case and bag. He slipped his hands to her lower back, pulling her body tight to his. She could feel him, all of him. Then his lips grazed hers for a second, making everything right again. He sucked in a breath and smiled. “I’ve been waiting too long for that, darling.” “Then don’t stop. Don’t waste time.” Ryker didn’t. He kissed Alyson again. And

again. And again… Their tongues flirted before Ryker took full control as he always did. He broke the kiss to grab his guitar and bag. He tossed those in the apartment and then set his sights right back on Alyson. He cupped her ass and lifted her. He slammed the door, locked it, and walked Alyson right to her bedroom. Her arms were around his neck; she stared down at him. The feeling was intense. Way too intense for all of this to be real. As Ryker gently placed Alyson down on the bed, he kissed her. His lips ravaged hers. He kissed down to her neck, his hands climbing up her shirt, touching her bare skin. Alyson hurried to

tear at Ryker’s shirt. She wanted it off. She wanted the rockstar naked. She wanted the rockstar deep inside her body. It took them a matter of seconds to tear each other’s clothes off. They kissed the entire time, taking turns at each other’s necks, chests; their hands touching everywhere they possibly could. Ryker cupped her breast with one hand, his other hand touching her inner thigh. He pushed, opening her, and he came forward. When he touched her, Alyson groaned and thrust. The thought of anything easy and gentle was kidnapped by the wild side Ryker brought out in her. She clawed at his

back, demanding him. When Ryker thrust hard, Alyson groaned and curled up. Her lips found his defined chest, kissing, whimpering, doing everything to keep from screaming and waking the entire building. Ryker’s hands held Alyson tight, slowly climbing from her hips to her sides. He rolled to his back, bringing Alyson on top of him. She let out a cry with the quick move. Her hands shook as she pressed at his chest. Leaning forward, Alyson moaned when she felt Ryker’s mouth kiss her breasts. His tongue flickered against her hard nipples, one at a time, sending surges of heat through her body. Her hips were hard at work, pumping with Ryker’s

movements, wanting to give him all she could offer. Her body, her pleasure. She wanted to give him her heart also. Ryker touched Alyson’s cheeks and he gently pulled at her. He wanted her mouth. She gave that to him, too. They kissed wildly. Alyson reached climax, her body tightening, Ryker moving hard and fast, keeping her pleasure going. He rolled her to her her back, just the way they began. One hand cradled her neck, the other at her left hip. His grip tight, a little ticklish, but the look in his eyes controlled everything. It was the sexiest look Alyson had ever seen in her life. “Oh, darling,” Ryker growled. “You don’t know what you do to me.”

“I can feel it,” Alyson said, short of breath. “Oh, I can feel it. It feels good.” Ryker let out a hiss and thrust hard and deep. He kissed Alyson again and then moved to her neck. She felt his teeth graze her skin as his cock finally let go. He throbbed inside, pulsing with force as he came. A few minutes later, Alyson rested her head on Ryker’s chest, listening to his heart beat. There was plenty to say, but the silence was better. Ryker’s touch was strong, warming, perfect. The silence was only broken with Ryker’s heavy breaths.

“I couldn’t wait,” he whispered. “I had to come back tonight.” Alyson looked to the window and saw the faint line of light trying to poke through the blinds. “It’s morning,” Alyson said. “I don’t care. When I’m with you, time stops.” Alyson smiled and shut her eyes. Then let’s make it stop forever. (18) Ryker got out of the bed and found his jeans. He put them on and left the room, wanting to make some coffee for Alyson. He had to talk to her about a few

things. Well, not a few things. Just one really big thing that was on the table that involved her. When Ryker turned the corner to the kitchen, the smell of coffee hit him. A woman stood there, whom Ryker recognized as Alyson’s roommate, Ashley. She saw him, gasped, and dropped an empty mug. It hit the floor with a thundering crack and broke. She covered her mouth. Her eyes scanned his body, down and up. “Morning,” Ryker said. He crouched down and grabbed the two chunks of the mug and tossed them in the trash. “Ashley, right?”

“Fucking hell,” Ashley said. “Is this real? Are you real?” Ryker put his arm out. “You can touch.” Ashley’s hand shook as she touched his hand. “I’m real,” Ryker said. “Just coming to get some coffee for Alyson.” “Is everything okay?” Alyson walked into the kitchen wearing Ryker’s shirt. Damn, she made everything of his look better when she wore it. “Holy crap,” Ashley said. Ryker slipped an arm around Alyson’s waist and pulled her close. He

kissed the top of her head. “Good morning, darling,” he said. Alyson’s face turned bright red. “Good morning.” “He calls you darling,” Ashley said. “This is crazy.” “Mind if I get some coffee?” Ryker asked. Ashley backed away. He sent the two women to the table and poured everyone a coffee. He then made some eggs and Ashley asked if she could take a picture and brag that the guitarist from Willow Son made her breakfast. Ryker had to laugh. It was strange but he didn’t care. After breakfast, he ended up back

in Alyson’s bedroom. He touched the shirt on her and groaned. “I need this back.” “Oh, you’re leaving now? Show up in the middle of the night and sleep with me? Then leave the next morning?” “Hey, at least I made you breakfast.” “Fine,” Alyson said. She put her hands up. Ryker lifted the shirt up over her head. She was topless, no bra, now wearing nothing but a pair of black panties. The same panties he had torn off her body late the night before. He threw the shirt to the bed and touched her chest. Cupping her breast, his thumbs grazed her nipples.

“Fuck, you make everything hard.” Alyson bit her lip and backed up. She got a new shirt and threw it on. It covered her breasts but her erect nipples pushed through the fabric. Ryker then patted the bed. “Sit with me, darling.” “Okay.” “I didn’t just come here to sleep with you. I needed to see you. To be with you. I couldn’t wait. And now I need to talk to you.” “About?” “Our acoustic album is number one already.” “Ryker! That’s amazing!”

Alyson threw her arms around him. He felt her perfect tender breasts pressing against him. He gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to throw her down to the bed and love her again. “Yeah, it’s something. But there’s a little going on.” “Which is?” Ryker swallowed. “Portis wants to do something else with us.” “The band?” “No. You and me.” “What?” “The date thing was a hit, for him. For his people. For whatever. It helped everyone.”

“Not me,” Alyson said. “I know, darling. I’m approaching with caution everywhere right now.” “What does he want?” “A follow up date. Or I say we broke up and I go after one of the other women. Or date them all. Like some kind of big thing.” Alyson stood up from the bed. She hugged herself, trying to really pull away. “What did you say?” Ryker stood up. “I’m at the mercy of everything right now.” “And I have to get dragged into it again.”

“I didn’t say that. I didn’t sign anything, Aly. I promise. I wanted to talk to you first.” “What would I have to sign?” “The contract. There’s a lot of legal stuff behind it. More than what you had to sign the first time. But there’s money with it.” “Money.” “I know you want to open that center. Right?” “So I have to whore myself on television to do it.” “I didn’t say…” Alyson put a hand out. “Don’t. It doesn’t matter. My mother is in a rehab

center now.” “What?” “That was my news to tell you. She got herself kicked out of her place for good. I stood up to her. She started to get in trouble and ended up there. So, yeah, I’m broke right now. But at least she’s okay.” “Christ,” Ryker said. He stepped toward Alyson. “You should have told me.” “You were gone.” “Not vanished. On tour.” “It doesn’t matter. It’s not your problem.” “It is to me!” Ryker said. “I…”

“What?” “My brother was arrested for robbing a store,” Ryker said. “I know the feeling.” Now there was silence. Alyson’s eyes were glossy with tears. Ryker touched her; she didn’t pull away. “Aly, I’m not going to do that to you. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not going to blame you. I’m not going to leave you. I’m talking to you. If I signed that contract and you didn’t, they’d change the direction of the show. But I’m here. I’m going to figure it out.” “What happens if you don’t do what he wants?” Alyson whispered.

“He can make life annoying. He’s got a lot invested in us and we have a lot invested in him.” “So I’m the one in the middle.” “I’m sorry.” Alyson put her head to Ryker’s chest. He squeezed her tight and took a deep breath. “I’ll fix it. I promise. Let me work something out.” Alyson looked up at him. “I can’t do that. I can’t have you choose between Willow Son and me. That’s not fair. I don’t stack up.” “Shit, darling,” Ryker said. “You’re

everything to me. I stood on stage last night and played. I looked out to all those people. They were staring at me, cheering me on, going wild with the band. And it just didn’t feel right. Not without you.” “You can’t say stuff like that to me.” “Why not?” “Because I’m really starting to fall for you.” “Good.” Ryker stroked Alyson’s cheek with his thumb. “Fall with me then, Aly.” **

Ryker didn’t wear fancy clothes. Even for the most important meetings of his life. It just wasn’t his style. Willow Son stood outside the conference room, waiting on Portis. He was in a meeting, sitting on the edge of the table, a woman sitting in a seat in front of him. He waved his hands, laughed, talked fast. The smooth approach he was famous for, almost as sleek and slick as a car salesman. Impatient, Ryker tapped on the window. Portis looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t have time!” Ryker yelled. “Jesus, man,” Colby said. “You’re

lucky he wants to even talk right now.” “I don’t care. I need to straighten this all out.” “Don’t push too hard,” Jett warned. “Hey. We’re the number one album for another week. The pre-sale for the DVD has set records. We’re on tap for sponsorships for the next major tour. We are everything to this guy.” “What are you going to offer him?” Van asked. “What he wants,” Ryker said. “Alyson is going to sign off?” Brantley asked. “No. She’s not.” “Then what are you going to do?”

Colby asked. “Just screw her over?” “I’ll take care of things,” Ryker said. “First part is all me. Second part is you guys.” Portis shook hands with the woman and led her to the door. Ryker felt a hand grab his shoulder. “What are you trying to prove?” Jett asked, almost growling. “Nothing.” “You care about that woman?” “I told you I did.” “Then act like it.” Ryker threw an elbow to knock Jett away. “I fucking am.”

Portis opened the door. “We’ll be in touch shortly. We’ll get you into that studio and make some great music, Hailey.” “Whoa. Willow Son.” “Yes,” Portis said. “This is Willow Son. My pride and joy.” “Oh, good Christ,” Ryker said. “Can I ask you guys something?” the woman, Hailey, asked. “Shoot,” Jett said. “I just signed with Portis. Can I get a picture with you guys?” “Sure,” Colby said. Portis stepped in. “Only if we take a second one with all of us. Together.

Keep the image.” “Okay,” Colby said. Ryker rolled his eyes. He didn’t mind the picture with Hailey; she was at least a fan. Adding Portis suddenly turned it into a publicity stunt. Hailey walked away and Willow Son went into the conference room. Harry followed a minute later, rushing as he came from a separate meeting about album distribution. “I’m just going to leave the floor open,” Portis said as he sat and folded his hands. Harry sat at the opposite end of the table. Ryker reached into his leather

jacket and pulled out the contract for the television show. He looked down at Harry, then to Portis. He then ripped it in half. Portis nodded. “Don’t worry, we have copies.” Smart ass. “No,” Ryker said. “No dating stuff. No fake rockstar jackass stuff. No.” “Oh, you’re calling the shots?” Portis asked. “Alyson is not signing that,” Ryker said. “That’s not fair to her. Money aside, she gets no protection and it puts her out there like a fool.” “So you do the dating thing,” Portis

said. “It’s easy as that.” “No. I refuse.” The room fell silent. Portis raised an eyebrow, staring down at Harry. “I had no idea,” Harry said. “But… if we need to talk…” “There’s no talking,” Ryker said. “I agree,” Jett said. “Enough of this. We’re rockstars. We belong on stage or in the studio.” “I need something better,” Portis said. “To put this thing…” “We’re number one,” Brantley said. “For now,” Portis said. “Then you get me and my brother,”

Ryker said. He stood up. “That’s what you get.” “Ryker, what are you doing?” Harry asked. “Talk to me,” Portis said. “I’ll go face him in jail,” Ryker said. “The fallen brother. Two brothers on opposite ends of the world. He blames me for everything. Who wouldn’t want that story?” “I heard about that,” Portis said. “I’ve been keeping it hush. But you might be on to something.” “That’s my offer,” Ryker said. “Then we finish the new album and we tour. No more bullshit stuff.”

“I’ll do it if you go in with no security.” “Like hell he will,” Harry said. “I’ll do it,” Ryker said. “I’ll face Randy without security.” Ryker knew what was at stake here. Facing his brother without security. Feeling exposed, vulnerable, stripped down. And all of it being filmed. “Bro,” Jett said. “No way.” “It’s fine,” Ryker said. “I don’t care. I’m not afraid of him.” “What if something happens?” Colby asked. “I mean… you’re there alone. If he tries…” “You’re brother is that rough?”

Portis asked, grinning. “He’s something,” Ryker said. “It’ll be something.” “I’ll accept that,” Portis said. “But I want more. I want lights.” “Lights,” Harry said. “Christ, Portis. I’m starting to get annoyed here.” “No, no,” Ryker said. “We’ve got that solved.” “We do?” Van asked. “Major tour,” Ryker said. “But the band needs an opening act. Willow Son will hit the road with a band that we choose. We go through tapes, videos online, contact bands. Find guys that are signed looking for a break. Whatever we

have to do. Make it look good. Then we pick a band and we’re off. You get your TV time, Portis. And we get to build some buzz for the music and tour.” “Damn,” Harry said. “He’s thinking smarter than both of us, Portis.” Portis never liked to admit complete defeat. His eyes screamed yes! but he kept his calm. “Let me run all this by my guys, okay?” “Do what you have to do,” Ryker said. He pointed to ripped up contract. “But that, that will never happen. End of discussion. You could drop me off the label and bring in a replacement guitarist.”

Portis grinned. “So that one you picked means that much to you, huh?” “That’s my personal life.” “Okay,” Portis said. “Let me do what I do. You need to go write some music.” Portis left the conference room. Ryker hung his head, sighing in relief. “Where did you pull that from?” Van asked. “Had my thoughts when you were passed out on the couch in that hotel,” Ryker said. “You shouldn’t have to face your brother,” Colby said. “Fuck that guy.”

“No. It’s good. I’ll get it all cleared up right now. Then I never had to deal with it again.” This was going to hurt a lot. But if this kept Alyson out of the light and in Ryker’s arms, the pain was worth it. Because… well… love was taking complete control now. (19) Alyson put her cap on a table and looked at the leather folder. Inside was nothing, for now, but she had officially graduated with her MBA. Everything was done now. She had two solid job offers on the table, one with a NPO that helped low income families and another

was a big company looking for someone to assist with mergers and acquisitions. A far cry between the two but Alyson wanted it that way. Her internal struggle of career versus what she wanted still raged inside her heart. Her professor had even told her that her business plan was so solid he was going to try and pass it around to a few of his friends. People that were always looking for a way to spend their millions. It excited Alyson, but her professor was completely honest that most of the time his friends liked to talk about spending money but rarely ever did. The crowd in the auditorium had been loud. When her name was called

and people applauded, she strutted across the stage, looking out, and had a vision of herself on stage like she was part of Willow Son. Only nobody in the audience knew who she was. But it was all over now. The years of work had paid off and hopefully her nights as a waitress at Jimmy’s place was finally done once and for all. People were everywhere in the back area of the auditorium. Mothers and fathers celebrating their kids - some in their twenties, some in their forties. There were people who were closer to retirement than college years, which was really inspiring. There was a commotion of people gathering in one spot, pushing and

cheering. It caught Alyson’s full attention. She moved to her toes and looked, wondering if something happened to someone. The crowd started to open and what she was left with was complete and total shock. It was Jett. Wait, no. Not just Jett… Jett and Colby. No… It was the entire band. Willow Son had come to her graduation. Ryker was last, carrying roses. Alyson knew there was eleven before she even took the roses from Ryker. She hugged him tight and he hugged her tighter, lifting her and turning her.

“You did it,” he said. “You really did it.” “Hey, this is really awesome,” Van said. “Thank you,” Alyson said. She wiped a tear from her eye. “I can’t believe you all came.” People were surrounding the band. They were stuck between total shock and asking for autographs. Plenty of phones were snapping pictures. More than a few were making the connection that Alyson was the woman from the dating show with Ryker. It was like being famous all over again. This time Alyson just stared at Ryker. She wanted to tell him she loved him. She still couldn’t get it out of

her mind that Ryker was supposed to do another reality show. With or without Alyson. “Hey,” Brantley said, “I have an idea. Why don’t we fire Harry, get dropped from the label, and then have Alyson run us?” “Whoa,” Alyson said. “That’s not a bad idea,” Ryker said. “She’s smart enough.” “You want to run your own business, right?” Colby asked. “I’m not dealing with a bunch of rockstars,” Alyson said with a smile. “Only one,” Ryker said as he moved his hand around her waist and

pulled her close. “Only one.” “Exactly,” Alyson whispered. “Where’s your hot roommate?” Van asked. “Her father is in the hospital,” Alyson said. “Nothing serious, I think. He was short of breath and Ashley freaked out and had to be with him. Rightfully so.” “Hey, can we get out of here?” Ryker asked, his lips flirting with Alyson’s ear. It made her shiver with heat. “Yeah. Let me…” Alyson pushed herself away from Ryker. She handed him the roses. The entire room started to wave in and out.

She could only focus on one thing. Her mother… was here… ** Alyson took the bright flowers and hugged her mother. She backed away and stared in disbelief. Her mother looked pretty good. Her face was bright. Her eyes weren’t sunk into her skull. The bags under her eyes were a little less dark and a little less saggy. Even her hair looked clean and nicely done. “Mom.” “Oh, Alyson,” her mother said. “Look at you. Look at my baby girl!” Alyson took her mother by the

wrist and pulled her to a more private spot. She wasn’t sure how to approach the situation. So she just spoke. “What are you doing here?” Her mother frowned. “You’re not excited to see me?” “The last time I saw you, you stormed out of my apartment and then blamed me for everything until you ended up in a treatment center.” Her mother swallowed hard. “Yeah. That’s exactly right.” “So?” Her mother touched her shoulder. “You paid for all that, didn’t you?”

“It wasn’t free. I got the call from Debbie that you were there. She helped me to work out the money stuff. But, yeah, I took care of it.” “You always took care of it.” “Don’t get too excited,” Alyson said. “I had to sell a lot of your stuff to make it work. You’re apartment is gone though.” “Good. I don’t want it. I have a room.” “A room?” “Yeah. I pay by the week. It’s nothing grand. But another woman from the center, Cathy, lives there. It’s this big house with four floors. The guy who

owns it helps people like me.” “People like you?” For years Alyson had waited to hear her mother admit that something was wrong. Not the excuses. Not the reasons. But the actual problem. “I have a drinking problem. I know that. I’ve always known that. I let it get in my way over and over. I’ve worried about you so much though.” “So I’m still the reason,” Alyson said. “I didn’t say that, dammit. I’m saying that my fear for you hurt me. Because you didn’t have a man in your life.”

“The thing is, I do have a man in my life,” Alyson said. She pointed and her mother turned. Willow Son was busy talking to people, signing autographs, taking pictures. Everyone but Ryker. He stared right at Alyson, his sexy eyes burning at her. Watching her. Taking care of her from a distance. “The rockstar?” her mother asked. “His name is Ryker,” Alyson asked. “He’s a good man. He’s a musician, yes, but that doesn't mean he doesn’t care about me.” “You trust him?” “With my life.” Her mother nodded. “Then who am

I to judge?” “I hope you don't mind me asking, but what are you doing out of that place?” Alyson asked. “You should stay there. Get all the help you can get.” “I’ve gotten that,” her mother said. “I’ve met people like me. I’ve faced my fear, my pain, and I’ve done something I’ve never done before. I’ve admitted wrongdoing. I feel better. I have a long road in front of me.” Alyson’s mind raced. This was why she wanted to open her center. Because she wouldn’t just bring people in and out like a fast food restaurant. She would make it so the place was more of

a second home. A place to always go to do something to keep the demons at bay. “I’m glad you’re admitting all this,” Alyson said. “What are you going to do with your fancy degree?” “Work.” “Good.” “How are you paying for your room?” “Work,” her mother said with a smile. “I’m taking care of things.” “I hope that’s true,” Alyson said. “I hope it all works out.” Her mother inched closer. “The same for you. I hope that man behind me

doesn’t hurt you.” “And if he does, I’ll handle it. I’m not going to seal up my heart and be afraid.” Her mother blinked, tears in her eyes. “When did you become a woman?” “A long time ago, Mom.” “I know. I’m sorry I missed all of it. But I didn’t miss this, did I?” “No.” “So you can’t be mad at me.” Alyson groaned on the inside. Somehow everything always got twisted back to her mother. “Just please take care of yourself. You’re the mother. You're supposed to

take care of me.” “I am,” her mother said. “I’m here. I’m supporting you. I bought you flowers. Aren’t they nice?” Alyson thought about arguing. Then she saw Ryker from the corner of her eye. He was signing an autograph for a woman named Jessie. The woman was beautiful. Alyson knew Jessie from an economics course they had together. She was the definition of perfect. Height, weight, hair, eyes, a naturally beautiful face - a chest any woman would be jealous of. She stood there, trying to touch Ryker’s arm as he signed the autograph. He kept moving his arm away from her. Once he signed the autograph,

he said something, touched Jessie’s shoulder, and walked away. His eyes went right back to Alyson. Jessie stood surprised, like she had expected Ryker to grab her and take her to a closet and fuck her. Ryker wanted Alyson. “The flowers are great,” Alyson said. “Thank you for coming.” “I wouldn’t miss it for anything in the world.” Alyson hugged her mother. It was a long hug, a hug that she couldn’t remember the last time they shared together. Her mother then began to give a list of things she had to do, excuses why she didn’t want to do the list but she had

to get it done. It was typical of her mother and she eventually left. The crowd started to get a little crazy because of Willow Son being there so the band had to leave next. But Ryker stayed with Alyson. His hand never left her lower back as he walked with her from the auditorium. Alyson held flowers, roses, her MBA, and she held the growing love for Ryker - the sexy rockstar who had stolen her heart. ** Ryker traced lines up and down Alyson’s naked back. Their clothes were all over the floor, right where they damn belonged. Alyson panted, her hot breath

spreading across his chest. A smile was on his face and he couldn't help it. Her body was beautiful and perfect. Her right leg was draped over his leg just enough so her body touched his. He could feel her burning wetness between her legs. Alyson curled her toes, playing with Ryker’s lanky feet. She kissed his chest and then worked up his neck. “You ready again?” Ryker asked. “Are you?” Alyson shot back. “For you, I’m always ready.” Alyson’s hand touched Ryker’s lower stomach. She inched down, trying to be seductive. But there was something

waiting for Alyson. When her fingers touched his cock, she let out a gasp. “Told you,” Ryker whispered. “You’re hard again?” “That’s what you do.” Alyson really did. She made him painfully hard, yet it was so good. Her hand tightened around his thick shaft. She gently pumped at him, inching up and down. She rested her chin on his chest, smiling as she did so. Ryker smirked. He could play the game too. He ruled this fucking game. His hand slid down Alyson’s back and up over the mound of her ass. He cupped her there, squeezing until she jumped with a giggle. His fingers then moved around, feeling the welcoming warmth of

her sweet silk. His fingers dipped into her, feeling her tender and throb from a few minutes ago when they finished. As he explored her body, Alyson sighed and gripped at his thickness tighter. She jerked at him harder. They were locked in an intense, sensual moment, hands exploring, eyes focused together. There were no words. There were just sounds. Slowly, Alyson slithered her body on top of Ryker’s. She reached down between her legs, gripping him, guiding him to her sex. As Alyson lowered herself down, Ryker resisted the urge to thrust. He grunted instead, her warmth sheathing him with a pulse that

threatened to make him come almost instantly. But that didn’t happen. Ryker had full control of everything. His hands gently grazed Alyson’s perfectly curved hips. He rocked her softly, wanting to feel everything she had to offer. Slow and steady, Alyson moved down, her hair in Ryker’s face, their breaths entangling as much as their lips and tongues. It quickly became the greatest sex of Ryker’s life. Because for the first time in his wild, rockstar life, he knew what it felt like to make love to woman. A woman he loved.

(20) The black car stopped outside the chain linked fence. There was barbed wire rolled up with razor hooks at the top. On the pavement on the inside were a group of guys wearing orange pants and white sleeveless shirts. They were shouting, calling for the pass as a game of basketball was being played. The pole for the basketball hoop was rusted. The backboard chipped. The rim bent. There was no net on the rim. Another group of men sat against the fence. Ryker stepped out of the car. He was dressed in what he wanted. Jeans, tshirt, whatever the hell he could grab out

of the closest. The line between inside and outside the fence was thin. Sunglasses on his face, Ryker slammed the car door and started to walk. There were cameras all around him. Following his moves. The second he was noticed, the calls started. Rockstar! Yo! Ryker! I love Willow Son, man! Nice fucking sunglasses! Come on in, brother! Most of the calls were nice. Some weren’t. A line of guys were at the fence. The guards waited for Ryker at the door. Ryker took a detour and went to

the fence. He greeted anyone who wanted to talk to him. “Are you really here?” one of the men asked. “I’m here,” Ryker said. “Need to talk to my brother. Randy.” “I don’t know him. But fuck I know you, man. I love your band.” “Thank you.” “Your music is solid shit. I miss it. I want to fucking hear new shit.” “Just go straight,” Ryker said. “Take the line, brother.” “Yeah, I got it. I fucking got it.” “Man, you’re sitting here for another two years,” another guy said.

Ryker hit the fence and then walked to the guards. “Arms out,” the guard said. This was all for show. To make it more dramatic. Then guard then put a hand to the door. “For the record, we are not responsible for you. If a prison inmate takes you as a hostage we will not negotiate any release. You are entering at your own risk. We will not stop an attack and we will not put our employees in danger for your own well being. You are under no guard and no protection upon entering this facility.” Ryker nodded. The walk through the prison was

honestly terrifying. He kept a straight face, knowing what kind of hell a mental and emotional prison felt like. Ryker was taken to a room with a table and two chairs. He sat and waited. The door opened again and there was Randy. Dressed in orange, his hair greasy and messy, his face scruff with hair. He had a nice shiner that was a yellowish color. “Brother,” Ryker said. Randy sat down. The cuffs were taken off. The guard left the room. So much of all this was probably illegal and completely dangerous. But this was for ratings and entertainment. “What the fuck are you doing

here?” Randy asked. “Trying to figure out what you’re doing. What happened?” “I’m better off in here. There’s limits, little bro. There’s walls. It’s all contained. I’m better off contained.” “You robbed a store?” Randy laughed. “Fuck that. I took down a bottle of whiskey and decided to go back inside. So I got a gun and went to a store. I didn’t plan on taking a thing. I just wanted to get locked up.” “You realize what you did to that person behind the counter?” Randy grinned. “Don’t worry. I’m sure your band can play a song and make

it all better.” “That’s what you think? It’s all about me, right? You’re selfish.” “Fuck you, little bro. I took care of you.” “You didn’t,” Ryker growled. “You think you did. But you didn’t.” “And now you’re here being famous. Going to put your broken brother on television for a few dollars.” Ryker swallowed hard. “There was no reason for this, Randy.” Randy pushed at the table. “Yes there was. You don’t fucking get it.” “Then make me get it.” Randy slowly stood. He stretched

his arms. “I’m supposed to be chained to the table.” “I guess they trust us,” Ryker said. He stood up too. “I just want to know what’s going through your head.” Randy stared forward at a wall. “Okay. You want to know…” Randy turned and jumped at Ryker. He hit him and had Ryker against the wall. Ryker hit with a thud and felt pain rage up and down his back. Randy put his forearm to Ryker’s throat. “They’re not going to save you,” Randy said. “They’ll let me kill you.” “Then do it.” “You were fucking dumped on me.

Goddammit. I was left with you. I didn’t fucking want it. I didn’t fucking ask for it.” “Sorry about that,” Ryker said. “What does that have to do with you being here?” “Nothing. I just wanted to say that.” Randy pushed away from Ryker. He left a small opening and Ryker finally decided to take it. He threw a right and smacked Randy at the side of his face. Randy flew off his feet and went to the ground. “I’ve wanted to do that for years,” Ryker said. Randy pushed up and climbed to

his feet. He wiped blood from his mouth. He nodded. “Good, little bro. Very good. My turn.” Randy came at Ryker. Ryker didn’t defend himself. He took the punch and then delivered one of his own. The two brothers then tangled up and ended up on the table. Hitting, kicking, cursing. Years of pent up shit finally reaching it’s ultimate apex. Ryker had no intentions of hurting Randy or killing him, but he knew if he didn’t defend himself, Randy might actually kill him. They ended up in a corner, Randy holding Ryker there. Randy threw left after left, trying to get to Ryker’s gut and

chin. Ryker blocked the punches with his ribs, lifting his knees, and landing plenty of his own punches. Finally, Ryker kicked at Randy’s ankle and pulled at Randy’s shirt, tripping him. Randy toppled to the ground and just sat against the wall. He was out of breath. His face bleeding, cheeks swollen. Randy patted the floor. “Sit down, little bro.” Ryker inched down to the ground. “I owe so much,” Randy said. “To the world. I got involved with drugs and guns. I’m going to be put away for the rest of my life if the book is thrown at

me. I was in trouble with some guys. So I’m safer in here. And if someone gets to me in here, they’ll make it quick. Just take me.” “That’s the life you want?” “I didn’t say that,” Randy said. He looked at Ryker. “I was shitty to you growing up. A bad role model. A worse brother. But you dumped on me and I was supposed to do what? Be your father? I couldn’t take care of myself.” “I tried to help you,” Ryker said. “When I hit it big, man, I tried to help you.” “I came to you looking for help,” Randy said.

“And I was mad at you. You wanted security. That’s not how it works in my world. You’re not going to hurt people, Randy.” “Looks like I already have.” “You’ve done plenty,” Ryker said. Randy inched to the right. “Listen to me, little bro. You don’t need my life. You don’t need to ask a thing about it. I’m here. You’re not. Whatever deal you got worked out for TV, then enjoy it. Earn your money, save it, spend it, I don’t care.” “I can help you get set up,” Ryker said. “I’m not taking care of you. You’re a piece of shit.”

“I know I am.” Randy reached and put a hand to Ryker’s. “I know I am. I’ll never stop either. This is all I know. This is my life. Nothing can change me now.” Randy squeezed Ryker’s hand. It was the closest thing to affection Ryker could remember coming from his older brother. “You know, I used to steal guitar strings for you,” Randy said. “You did?” “Yeah.” Randy smiled. “I watched you, little bro. Tearing up that guitar. Learning notes or chords or whatever the hell they are. Really going at it. I saw a long time before the rest of the world

did just what you were. I knew you had a chance. You could get away from all this. So I’d steal anything you needed for the guitar. I guess in a way my way of showing you love was to shield it all. Take all the falls I could take. To keep you away from it. You could keep your anger focused on me and not look the other way.” Ryker looked at his brother. “I wish things would have been different.” “Not me,” Randy said. “I’m good here. I’ll learn the system, make some friends. Hell, when I told my cell mate who I was, he protected me.” “Yeah?” “There was a fight outside a few

days ago. I got tangled up in it for no reason. My cell mate, Stevey, man, he came in and took care of me. I got socked in the eye once. Stevey is at least six-foot-eight. He threw one punch and knocked a guy clean out. I’m good here, Ryker.” Randy put his other hand out and slapped Ryker in the face. Ryker did the same to Randy. They stared at each other. Reliving all the memories. The years flooded with bad. Times when there was no food. No electric. No heat. Just them living in nothing more than a box. Yet it always seemed to work out just enough that they survived. Because of what Randy did. He was an asshole and that would never change.

They pulled each other in and touched foreheads. “I love you, little bro,” Randy whispered. Ryker swallowed a lump in his throat. “I love you, man. You are such a fucking piece of shit though, Randy.” “I know. Now get the fuck out of here. Go get your guitar and write something.” Ryker stood up and helped his brother up. Randy went back to the table and sat down. He folded his hands and stared. “What are you doing?” Ryker asked. “Taking my spot. So when they

come in they see me like this. I don’t want any trouble.” Ryker realized he was able to just open the door and leave. Nobody would bother him. If Randy tried the same thing, he’d be tackled. He’d be cuffed, taken away, probably punished for trying to leave. Opening the door, two guards rushed by Ryker to go get Randy. Ryker looked over his shoulder and saw the guards pick Randy up. They slapped cuffs on him. It wasn’t the first time Ryker saw his brother get handcuffed. It probably wouldn’t be the last. The cameras were there again, waiting.

Ryker put his sunglasses on and walked through the hallways and to the door. He opened it and there was another camera waiting. He could already picture the dramatic take of it all. Running the footage of talking, fighting, the slow walking, some kind of music played behind it all. The yard was empty now. Ryker went to the gate and gripped it. He pulled and gritted his teeth. There was a lot of emotion inside him. Ultimately, he was free. Free to walk. Free to drive. Free to ride. Free to be Ryker from Willow Son. “Free,” he whispered. Ryker walked to the car and opened the backdoor.

“Everything go… Ryker! What happened?” Ryker couldn’t survive the day without Alyson with him. He slid next to her and grabbed her by the face. He kissed her, never tasting anything so good in his life before. He kissed Alyson for a few minutes before stopping. The connection was deep. The connection was real. Alyson stroked his cheek. “What happened?” “Just two brothers talking.” “That doesn’t…” “Aly, darling. Listen to me. I love you. I’m in love with you.”

Alyson opened her mouth and Ryker kissed her again. This time Alyson broke the kiss. For good reason. She had something to say. “I love you, Ryker.” (21) Colby dropped a box on the floor in the studio. The band had almost moved into the place by now. He kicked the box and gave a thumbs up. Ryker leaned forward and looked inside. “Seriously? People still send videos in the mail? I thought everything was online and stuff.” “These are demos and videos,”

Colby said. “Lots of stuff to go through here. Portis is rounding up a list of signed bands too.” “This is going to be torture,” Van said. “Way too much work.” “We could turn the tour into a festival,” Brantley said. “Have twenty bands per show.” “That’s not a bad idea,” Jett said. “Maybe we toss that at Portis,” Ryker said. “We’ll still need a true opening act though. But maybe we can do something regional. Invite all these bands to jam with us.” “We need to listen to all of this first,” Colby said.

“How about we take care of our own album first?” Jett asked. “Ryker has been putting together some really good stuff.” Colby sat on an amp. “Yeah? More of that deep, emotional stuff?” “It’s all I’ve got,” Ryker said. “You know that.” “I can’t believe all that happened with your brother,” Brantley said. “That fight…” “Nothing big.” “He looked like he wanted to kill you.” “Maybe he did,” Ryker said. “I was a burden on him. Just like he was on

me.” “What’s his deal?” Van asked. “I don’t know and I don’t care. I’m here. He’s not. And we have work to do.” “Agreed,” Colby said. The band got their instruments and got ready to record. Ryker put on headphones to hear the full sound. Brantley counted off with a four count on the drum sticks. Ryker started to play a riff, something he wrote late last night on an acoustic guitar while Alyson was asleep in his bed. Yeah, this was going to be a slow ballad kind of song. But that was okay. Ryker was doing the one thing he learned to best.

Follow his heart. ** Alyson stared at Portis. She couldn’t believe this was actually happening. Sitting across from the guy who tried to strong arm Ryker into putting her back on TV. “What do you think, Rob?” Portis asked. Rob - a friend of Portis - flipped through a couple more pages. He gave a nod and looked at Alyson. “This is a major undertaking.” “I believe in it.” “What’s in it for you?”

“The center.” “You want a job there? You want to own it? You want profit off it?” “No,” Alyson said. “My mother is an alcoholic.” “I’m sorry,” Rob said. “My father was. Drank himself into divorce, jail, and then death.” “I know what it’s like,” Alyson said. “I’m not looking to score a deal. I don’t want a fancy car. I believe in this. It was a risk doing this as a project for my MBA, but I believed in it then. I believe in it now.” “A lot of strings were pulled for this meeting,” Rob said. “I’m supposed to

be on a flight to London.” “I’ll pay for your ticket,” Alyson said. Portis laughed. “She’s tough. She stood up to Ryker. Stood up to me.” “Didn’t like the TV fame, huh?” Rob asked. “Wasn’t for me. Fame is better left to Ryker. I’m good with this. Helping people who need it. And not just treatment today or tomorrow. But something that goes on forever.” “The drawings are beautiful,” Rob said. “I mean, visually, this is outstanding.” Alyson nodded. She finally got

Ashley to tap into her hidden talent as an artist. She drew pictures of the entire building, the landscape, gardens, parking lot. The treatment center was right there on paper. Ready to come to life. “Portis, why haven’t you invested?” Rob asked. “I’m a music guy. I don’t know anything about this.” “You’ve invested in other ventures before.” “This a conflict of interest,” Portis said. Rob rubbed his chin. “It’s going to take time and work. A lot of effort. I don’t part with my money so easily.”

“You’re not parting with it,” Alyson said. “You’re using it for good. And investment. It’s still there.” “Unless the investment goes bad.” “Which is won’t,” Alyson persisted. “Okay,” Rob said. “Give me your best one then. Last chance. You’re walking the plank. One more step and you drown.” “Christmas Eve,” Alyson said. “What?” Rob asked. She stood up. “Christmas Eve. I sat on the couch and waited for Santa Claus to come. I waited until after midnight. No sleigh bells ringing. No

thudding of hooves on the roof. The door opened and I popped off the couch. I thought Santa came down the chimney. It wasn’t Santa. It was my mother. She fell into the apartment and fell down. I ran to her and she started to get sick. Right on the carpet. She demanded I clean it up and then slapped me. She passed out.” Alyson took a breath. “I cleaned the carpet. Then it was morning and Santa never came. My mother told me it was because I was up all night. I should have slept. She had no idea she threw up. She forgot about Christmas, about me.” Alyson stood behind her chair. “I was offered a six figure consulting job. Company car. Benefits. The full

package. I said no to it for this. For anyone who has dealt with what I have before. I’m going to open this center. I’m not asking you for money, Rob. I’m offering you this… for me. For my mother. For you. For your father.” Rob blinked fast. He looked at Portis. “Rob,” Portis said. “Where would we be without a little risk?” Rob closed the folder. “Done.” “Done?” Alyson asked. “Done.” He stood up. “I’ll finance the first two rounds of whatever you need.” Before Alyson could speak, Rob

made a call to completely cancel his London trip. Simply put - he wanted to get to work right now. Right now. ** The door opened and Alyson turned to see Ryker coming at her. She jumped into his arms. He spun her around and then put her down. “It’s happening,” she said. “Of course it is,” Ryker said. “It’s what this world needs.” “You did all this for me. You pushed at Portis. You…”

“No. You did it all. For me. To me. With me.” They kissed and Ryker backed up. He slowly closed the blinds in the door and window. He locked the door. He moved at Alyson again. Her body was on fire. “Are these papers important?” Ryker asked. “Some are.” “Oh well.” Ryker lifted Alyson and put her on the table. She let out a cry. “Ryker…” “Right here, darling,” he said. “Right here, right now, and then forever.” They kissed and Ryker’s strong,

rockstar hands went to work. Nobody had gotten to Alyson like he had. And she wanted to keep going… just keep going… Right here, right now, and then forever. ***** Van closed up the case for his bass and sat on an amp. He rubbed his forehead and looked around the beat up garage. The band had done a hell of a job in here; writing and filming the music and video that now had Willow Son back at the top of the charts. Yet there was no true tour talks. The road was comfort, like a

willing woman or a fresh bottle of whiskey. The road offered something nobody else could and something Van was addicted to. Distance. Grabbing an acoustic guitar, he started to play one of the new songs off the acoustic album. He had to hand it to Ryker. The songs were solid and well written. Who knew the wild guitarist had a hidden talent like that? Every musician usually had a notebook or two full of lyrics and music, including Van. But his music was his. From a different time. From a different place. Van’s phone lit up. It was a message. Can you talk?

The number, unknown, but the area code sending Van’s heart racing already. There were only a handful of people he knew from that area code. That was a place he ran from. The first time he experienced the road and he never looked back. Who is this? Van waited, tapping his fingers on the body of the guitar. I made a promise to you. I still have the ring. Van shut his eyes and shook his head. This could not be happening right now. I told you to keep it. She was typing back. Van looked forward at that stone wall. His heart

already twisted like a wet towel, the memories coming back to life, dripping. His leg was jumping. He felt ready to explode. What was she going to do? Hold it against him? Throw the ring back at him? Apologize for everything she said and did… The message popped up. I’m engaged, Van. Sorry. Van dropped his phone, the screen cracking. He then stood up, turned, and slammed the acoustic guitar on the amp. He did it over and over until there was nothing left but a neck and curled up strings. Yeah, his heart was still broken.

Ready for more? *** WAIT! Be sure to leave your review on Amazon! Tell the world how much you love Brothers of Rock! *** Bassist Van is looking to end the night so he could get out of the fancy clothes and get away from the big shot, business dinner that the record company insisted Willow Son attend. However, before the night ends, he meets one of the waitresses and suddenly the night has plenty of time to kill… so much so that Van wants to keep going in true rockstar style – all night long.

* DON’T MISS OUT ON ANY MORE DEALS! FREE BOOKS! DEEP DISCOUNTS! SEXY ROCKSTARS! BAD BOY BIKERS! It’s all waiting right here on the official Karolyn James mailing list

Sign up here – www.tinyurl.com/KJSignup

Thanks for reading Brothers of Rock! A series built on love, life, and rock n’ roll romance! The bestselling series continues with rock band, Willow Son! Meet the band! Colby (lead singer)

Jett (guitar) Van (bass) Ryker (guitar) Brantley (drums) _____________

READY TO ROCK SOME MORE!!!! KEEP READING! Brothers of Rock Books 1 – 5 follow rock band Chasing Cross

Don’t miss a single book in the Brothers of Rock series! All Access (Chasing Cross – Book One) – Johnnie, lead singer Broken Sound (Chasing Cross – Book Two) – Davey, guitarist Bitter Farewell (Chasing Cross – Book Three) – Danny, guitarist Buried Notes (Chasing

Cross – Book Four) – Chris, bassist Last Song (Chasing Cross – Book Five) – Rick, drummer Start reading: http://amzn.to/1N2DEXp *

Brothers of Rock Books 6 – 10 follow rock band Fallen Tuesday

Don’t miss a single book in the Brothers of Rock series! A Voice to Love (Fallen Tuesday – Book One) – Ryan, lead singer A Song For Us (Fallen Tuesday – Book Two) – Gray, guitarist A Sound Like Hope (Fallen Tuesday – Book Three) – Trent, bassist A Road to Let Go (Fallen

Tuesday – Book Four) – Jake, guitarist A Time to Move On (Fallen Tuesday – Book Five) – Mack, drummer Start reading: http://amzn.to/1N2DEXp

* Brothers of Rock Books 11 – 15 follow rock band Gone by Autumn

Don’t miss a single book in the Brothers of Rock series! Off the Record (Gone by Autumn – Book One) – Ryn, lead singer Under the Lights (Gone by Autumn – Book Two) – Tanner, guitarist Escape the Noise (Gone by Autumn – Book Three) – Gabe, bassist

Face the Music (Gone by Autumn – Book Four) – Asher, guitarist Chase theRoad (Gone by Autumn – Book Five) – Blake, drummer Start reading: http://amzn.to/1N2DEXp

Don’t miss the smash hit, bestselling romantic suspense series under the pen name, London Casey Meet BACK DOWN DEVIL MC… OUTLAW REVENGE CRASH & BURN DARK FALL SECRET MAYHEM *AND MORE!*

Start reading: http://amzn.to/1N2DEXp

* Sign up for the official Karolyn James newsletter and you’ll never miss a new release! Sign up here - tinyurl.com/KJSignup Stay social with Karolyn James here...

www.KarolynWrites.com On Twitter @KarolynWrites https://www.facebook.com/Ka Official Amazon author page: http://amzn.to/1N2DEXp

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. First electronic edition October 2015 Copyright © 2015 by Karolyn James All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part of any form.