Stroke It - Brooke Page Page 0,9
his hat covered head in my peripheral.
“Dude, what the hell?” Gunner asked.
“It’s nothing,” Chase mumbled.
“Stop treating me like a fucking child. Put me down, you big piece of shit!”
“Man, you all are lucky I don’t act like this when you talk shit about my mom,” Rocket grumbled.
I took a deep breath. He was right. I needed to get it together. “Rocket, you’re right. I’m sorry.”
Chase stopped in his tracks, hauling me off of his shoulder and back on my feet. Keeping a hand on my bicep, he eyed me, waiting for a response.
“I’m good,” I confessed. Putting my hands on the back of my neck. “I just… Maddie is a tough subject right now.”
“I know, and we all need to be more sensitive,” Gunner scolded, setting both of his hands on either of my shoulders. “Get it together.”
“Yeah, man, I’m sorry. Her birthday is coming up, isn’t it?” Rocket apologized softly.
I let out a big breath of air. “It’s okay. I need to finish her song, then I’ll be fine.”
The guys nodded simultaneously. “Let’s go kick some ass at this rehearsal, then go get naps. I don’t know about you all, but I’m fucking tired.”
“Yeah, let’s get through this,” I sighed.
“It’ll be fine. If she makes us look like shit, we’ll kick her out,” Gunner said, the other guys nodding in agreement.
“Yeah, let’s go fuck shit up,” I shouted, trying to get in a hype, even though I knew I was going out on stage with a girl I couldn’t stand.
Chapter Four
Raina, Past
I should have believed my mom when she warned me about guys like Kyle Thompson.
He caught my eyes still, tall and broad, muscles defined against the neoprene shirt he wore the first time we met. I was the warm up for the opening act, and we were playing at a small arena. My Disney channel character had died off, and no one took me seriously as a performer.
He was leaving a locker room with a massive bag over his shoulder and a hockey stick in his hand, his buzz cut damp and dark, blue eyes as cold as the ice he had just been playing on.
I didn’t expect him to stop and talk to me, let alone sit down and offer to take me to dinner since I would be in town longer than expected. I’d been crying before he approached me, eyes still puffy. The tour had dropped my act, and I thought my career would never get past being the opener’s warm up act.
He was kind and sweet then, saying all of the right words, pretending to listen as if he cared.
Fast forward two years, and my life had changed drastically.
I snuggled into his chest. “I’m glad you decided to come with me tonight, even though you can’t make it to the actual awards ceremony, this still means as much to me.”
Kyle was leaning against a bar top table, his navy tailored suit fitting his athletic body perfectly. He dropped the suit coat the moment we walked out of the Microsoft Theater from the warm L.A. heat. I didn’t mind. He was all muscles from his intense training, and I couldn’t wait to get him alone tonight.
“You’re out of town so much,” Kyle whined, his big arms pulling me to his chest. “How could I pass it up?”
“I know you don’t always like these types of things.”
He shrugged. “It’s not so bad. I was hoping the King’s coach might show up. I heard he’ll pop in here from time to time.”
“Maybe he’ll be at the real after party tomorrow?” I said hopeful, but I knew what his answer would be. He had to be on the road again for his minor league team.
“Maybe you could put in a good word for me if he is,” Kyle smiled. “I’m sorry I won’t be able to watch you accept all of your awards.”
I rolled my eyes. “I probably won’t get any.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Your odds are pretty good, you’re nominated in a ton of categories.”
“I won’t have you to hold my hand while I anxiously wait for them to call out the winners.”
“You’ll be alright,” he frowned. He got frustrated when I’d try to guilt him into being with me over his hockey team.
I tried to support him when I could. My palms rested on his thick shoulders. His arms had doubled in size since we had met, and they were big then. “Once this leg of the tour is done, my contract is up for renegotiation.