Stroke It - Brooke Page Page 0,36

raised her chin and crossed her arms. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“That’s cute, she thinks she can get out of a bet,” Rocket said sweetly. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “Come on, I’ll go first.”

Gunner and Chase came behind them. “Yeah, it’ll be fun. We’ll make sure he doesn’t pick out anything stupid.”

She pushed at Rocket, and he flinched, pretending she’d hurt him. I laughed, loving how feisty she was.

I wouldn’t make her get a tattoo, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t try and persuade her.

“Come on, Regan. I thought you wanted to have fun tonight?”

“Getting a tattoo is not my idea of fun!”

I linked my arm with hers. “Once you watch the magic, you’ll change your mind. I promise.”

She glared up at me, anger and fury written all over her face by how deep her scowl was, but her feet moved in step with mine, and her hand curled around my bicep. I wasn’t good at reading signals, but the fact she didn’t swat at my arm or tell me to fuck off meant she wasn’t completely against my crazy ideas.

Chapter Fourteen

Jet, present

We were all quiet as we hopped on the tour bus after our last interview in New York City. We’d sat with an interviewer from MTV, discussing our latest album, how the tour was going, and of course, the surprise performance with Raina Sky. Sebastian must have warned them to not ask any stupid questions about our relationship with Raina.

Chase, thankfully, handled that topic. She’s got a great voice, it was fun to blend one of our songs with such a different sound.

When the host asked if there would be more music from Addicts Unite and Raina Sky, Chase just shrugged and said time would tell.

I made myself comfortable in the back of the tour bus, Chase and Gunner were asleep in their bunks, and Rocket was reading on the opposite couch as I. My guitar was on my lap, my notebook sprawled across the cushion next to me. I’d found a renewed sense of creativity, and the lyrics for Maddie’s birthday song was flying off of my finger tips.

“It’s sounding good,” Rocket said smoothly, flipping a page in his novel.

“I’m glad I finally found a direction,” I sighed, strumming the strings in a soft melody.

Just as I was finishing the last few cords, my phone buzzed.

Unknown Number: Run into any paparazzi yet?

I raised a brow, debating if I should answer. I’d changed my phone number dozens of times because somehow a fan would get a hold of the number.

Unknown Number: I mean, I told the one that was at my door this morning that you confessed your love for me again… Too soon?

I smirked. I know how to dodge such questions. How did you get my number?

Unknown Number: Calvin.

I never gave Calvin my number.

Unknown Number: No, but one of your band mates did. I promised I wouldn’t say who it was.

I rolled my eyes. I’m sure it was Gunner.

Unknown Number: Can I call you?

I bounced my knee, wondering if I should open this can of worms. Last night was pretty spectacular, and it seemed to help my creative spirit, but having a fascination with a girl wasn’t always a good thing, especially when I’d finally gotten over her hurting me from before.

But, the gentleman thing to do would be to give her the decency of a phone call. Setting down my guitar, I pressed the unknown number and hit call.

“Hello?” her timid voice answered. “Jet?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Gunner didn’t prank you by giving you the wrong number.”

“Good. I wasn’t sure if you’d want to hear from me, so I thought a text message would be less intrusive.”

“No worries. What’s up?”

She took a deep breath. “Do you regret last night?”

I played with the piercing in my lip with my tongue. “No.”

“Do you mean that?”

I laughed. “Of course. Why would I?”

“I don’t know,” she huffed.

I squinted. Was she mad that I didn’t? “Look, we’ve obviously had sexual tension for a while. It was going to happen sooner or later, so why not sooner?”

“Jesus, you fucked her, didn’t you?” Rocket smirked over his book.

“Who was that?” she snapped.

I flipped Rocket off. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Seriously!? Who did you tell?”

I frowned. “Um, you obviously told Calvin?”

“That’s different,” she protested. “I’m a girl.”

“And I’m a rock star?”

“Jet, don’t be a dick,” she scolded. “Did you really tell anyone?”

Now I was pissed. “Yeah, I told all of the paparazzi outside of Time Square that you answered your hotel room door with