Page 7 of Stuck With My Rockstar Boss (Soul Sounds Brothers #4)

Lucas

We’re back on our game in Nashville. The Florida heat (and the Miami partying) zapped our energy, stole our focus.

In Orlando, we had to restart our cover of “Young Americans” because one of Chase’s sticks flies out of his hand.

It’d be embarrassing if the crowd didn’t love us.

Moments like that, I’m grateful for the ferocity of my fans.

Mika and I don’t drink around the world at Epcot, but we do visit the Magic Kingdom because she had never ridden Space Mountain and I thought that was a crime.

When we’re together, I need to remind myself that she’s working for me. She’s literally being paid to be there. It’s not a playdate or hanging out with a friend. So, any time we get a little too close, I push that button in my brain to reset.

I’m having dreams about her. Sometimes sexy, sometimes downright weird. Every time I see her at the beginning of the day, I have to try and bury the fact that I’m thinking about her constantly.

Things with the guys are… strained. They hate that I’m not partying with them.

Or something. Maybe they think I’m being a diva.

I don’t mean to be hurting their feelings, but I can’t stomach the lifestyle anymore.

Part of it is, of course, my anxiety. I’ve never had this problem.

In all these twenty years, on all these tours.

The other part of it is how hollow it feels.

So, we go out and get wasted in another town and let fans flock to us and let them drool over us?

End up in bed with some chick? Have mediocre drunk sex?

No thank you. I’m over that. We’re grownups. Of course, that’s part of the fallacy. Rockers never grow up.

Leaving the band is out of the question. It’s not what I want and I could never do that to the guys. No… it’s everything around it I need to get under control.

But anyway: Nashville. It’s a tough crowd.

Afterall, it’s Music City, USA. Smashville.

They know good music. And luckily, we’re quick to get in their good graces.

The crowd is fucking wild tonight. By halfway through our set, most of us are shirtless.

As we get set for an acoustic number, Mika, Crystal, and Lee keep the audience happy with an impromptu version of “Suspicious Minds” that is hauntingly beautiful. Elvis would be proud.

We finish the set and do our encore, but the fervor from the crowd doesn’t die down. They want more.

“We gotta go out,” Dylan says, reaching for his guitar that his tech had just snatched from him.

“Well, what are we playing?” Chase asks.

“How about a cover? ‘Black Dog’?” Jay suggests.

I roll my eyes. “They don’t want to hear a Zeppelin cover.”

“You got a better idea?” Jay asks with a cocked smile, elbowing me. At least he tries to keep things light.

Dylan looks to me coolly. “You pick, bro.”

It sounds like he’s giving up. As if no matter what, I’m going to get my way so they might as well just get it over with. “Well, I don’t know…”

I cast a look over at the backup singers who are waiting for us to make a call. Mika smiles at me.

The crowd roars again and the chanting begins. “Soul Sounds! Soul Sounds! Soul Sounds!”

“’Vicky’.”

Everyone looks at me like I’m crazy.

“Okay, do you have Kesha on speed dial?” Jay snorts.

“Mika can do it,” I say firmly, looking directly at her.

Mika’s eyes widen. “Me?!”

“Yeah, you know it,” I say, although I’m not too sure she does. I have reckless confidence in her. It was played nonstop on the radio for like three months.

“I mean, yeah, I do…”

The guys exchange wary looks.

“Listen, if we fuck up, we fuck up. But let’s do it. People love that song,” I say, corners of my mouth turning up. “Let’s not phone it in. Let’s make it big.”

Jay is the first to agree. “Fine, I’m in, let’s go.” He bolts onstage and the crowd erupts. Chase follows him.

Dylan, Mika, and I stand for a moment, basking in the excitement. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” Dylan says, a scowl on his face, before following our bandmates.

I swallow.

“Lucas,” Mika calls out my name, softly. “Are you sure about this? I’m not…you’re–”

“Totally sure,” I reply. I touch her back encouragingly. “Come on. You got this. Follow my lead. If you forget the lyrics, I got you.”

The worry in her face shifts slightly into determination. She smiles. “Okay.”

I lead her out onstage and the crowd goes wild. Mika timidly follows me up to the mic. A roadie hurriedly rejigs Jay’s backup mic to center stage beside mine.

“Nashville,” I cry into the mic. The crowd goes wild. I laugh. “I don’t think I’ve seen hometown pride quite like this. And I don’t think we’ve rocked quite this hard in a long fucking time.”

The crowd alights again.

“We’ve got one more song for you. Haven’t done it yet on this tour but y’all really deserve it. It’s ‘Vicky’.”

As if the crowd could be any louder and any more thrilled. I give Mika a look as if to ask, You ready?

She nods, taking her mic from the stand. Jay plays us in, smooth toned bass accented with his flair.

She’s got a voice like an angel

But it comes out like a growl

Her body’s like a temple

But she’s always on the prowl

The audience is entranced, all of their phones are up and their flashlights are on, waving their arms.

She tells me late at night

What her love is all about

Mika licks her lips and steps up to the microphone and sings the next line:

I wanna chew you up and spit you out.

Dylan and Chase join in, the guitar and drums energizing the balladic energy of the song.

Simply put, it fucking rocks. Mika and I don’t miss a note, playing off each other brilliantly.

If we’re this good on the fly, I can only imagine how amazing we would sound with a rehearsal or two.

Even though the audience is loud and invigorated and the guys are on their a-game, I can only focus on Mika.

She’s glowing, beaming. Her voice is like honey.

At one point, our eyes lock and I almost forget the words I’m so lost in her blue, catlike eyes.

The song ends, the crowd wild. I gesture to Mika to take a bow. “Mika Robertson, ladies and gentlemen.”

The crowd goes berserk. She flushes from stem to stern and bows her head humbly. Then, she leans into the mic. “Lucas Tremaine!”

I smile at her like she’s ridiculous. I’ve gotten my laurels, there’s no need for it. “Goodnight, Nashville!”

As we walk offstage, the guys are clapping me on the back saying what a good call it was and Lee and Crystal flock to Mika, tittering about how good she sounded. She looks back at me, teary-eyed, a smile on her lips. “ Thank you, ” she mouths.

I shake my head and smile.

“You have to go out and celebrate after that , man!” Jay cries and pats me on the back. “What do you say?”

I look to the guys and then to Mika. With her at my side, I think I could do anything. “Fine. Let’s do it.”