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Good Girls Don't Date Rock Stars Page 2


  He could still remember that night; climbing onto that bus and dropping his guitar case on the couch, pulling off his shirt as he headed for the back bedroom. All he’d wanted was a shower and a good night’s sleep, but when he’d opened the door, he’d found his publicist, Emily, lying across his bed.

  He’d dropped his shirt in surprise and yelled at her to get out, but she’d just laughed at him. He hadn’t even had a second to process everything before someone was knocking on the door of the bus.

  “Get dressed and get the hell off my bus. You’re fired.”

  She’d screeched at his back as he’d closed the door and gone to see who was knocking. When he’d opened the door to find one of the security guards and Gemma, he had been so happy he’d forgotten about anything else but her.

  Jumping down off the bus, he’d swept her up in his arms and inhaled her light vanilla scent. He still remembered how it had felt to kiss her after that three-month separation, her lips softening under his and her hands holding onto his shoulders.

  “Isn’t this sweet?”

  Those three little words had destroyed what should have been a happy reunion. Gemma had stiffened in his arms, pulling away to look over his shoulder, and when her hazel eyes had come back to his, they had shimmered with tears.

  She hadn’t said a word at first, just turned to run. He’d chased her down and explained what happened, but she hadn’t believed him. Her distrust had stung, but still he’d pleaded with her not to go. In the end, she’d just walked away from him.

  Travis didn’t beg. Ever. After living in eight foster homes and spending his childhood fighting for anything he wanted, he’d learned begging got you nothing but heartache and disappointment. You didn’t need anyone who didn’t want you.

  The only exception had been Gemma, and she had left him fighting not to cry in a crowded parking lot over ten years ago.

  He should walk away and forget about it now, but holding Gemma again, just for a minute, had had him tied up in knots. He couldn’t leave things this way. He had to clear the air.

  Maybe if he did that, he could forget her for good.

  Not a day went by that Travis hadn’t passed a woman who smelled like her, hadn’t turned to check for sure that it wasn’t Gemma. That he hadn’t played the song he wrote for her, hadn’t seen her face in the crowd, clear as day, only to realize he’d imagined it.

  Maybe he could finally throw away the old picture of their trip to Stanley that he kept taped inside his guitar case, taken just a few weeks before he’d left on his first tour.

  Whatever her issue was, he was going to get to the bottom of it. Even if he had to sit outside her door all day and night, he wasn’t leaving until she explained exactly what he’d done to piss her off. Maybe then he could fall asleep without the sound of her voice haunting him.

  Chapter Two

  * * *

  IT HAD BEEN almost thirty minutes since she’d bumped into Travis, and Gemma still couldn’t relax. She’d changed into a pair of soft sweats and a tank top, swiping one of her new books as she passed the table. She’d thought about calling Gracie, but that implied she would be seeing Travis again, and even if she had to hide in her hotel room all weekend, she was going to avoid Travis at all costs. She could call Michael, but . . .

  Shit, Michael. She’d hardly thought about her other best friend, but if he knew she’d seen Travis, he would be Jiminy Cricketing her right now. He’d wanted her to tell Travis about Charlie long ago, but she couldn’t do it. She hadn’t needed unreliable or untrustworthy people in her son’s life. Or hers.

  But it wasn’t just his feelings regarding the truth that had her worried.

  Michael was in love with her.

  She’d known about it for a while, and the situation would’ve been perfect if only she could reciprocate his feelings, but she couldn’t. Despite how wonderful Michael had been to her and Charlie, or how much Charlie adored him, she just couldn’t love Michael the way he deserved, and it wouldn’t be fair to lead him on.

  Lying across the bed with the book, she tried to get past the first sentence, but her mind kept wandering back to Travis and that night in Phoenix.

  When he’d come off the bus to find her waiting, his face had brightened with such joy, she’d felt better about announcing her pregnancy. Clearly, three weeks hadn’t changed his feelings, and once he knew, they could tackle the problem together, just like they always had.

  As Travis had swept her up into his arms and spun her around, she had laughed, holding on tight. When he’d stopped the motion to kiss her, her world had spun all over again the minute his lips touched hers. That kiss had told her that their love was real, that distance hadn’t changed anything and they could do this.

  And then that snide voice had crushed her dreams and brought reality crashing down.

  “Isn’t this sweet?”

  Gemma would never forget the way her blood had frozen when she’d looked over Travis’s shoulder to see a thin blonde standing at the bottom of the tour bus stairs.

  In Travis’s Toby Keith shirt. The one she’d had signed for him for his eighteenth birthday.

  Gemma lay her head on the bed, squeezing her eyes tight against the threat of tears. He shouldn’t still be able to make her cry, but there it was. She only had to bump into him for a few painful minutes and all of the hurt and betrayal came back to her as if she was seventeen again.

  A knock on the door broke through her misery and she wiped her eyes. “Coming.”

  Anticipating room service, she picked up her purse and opened the door with a smile that melted the moment she saw Travis standing behind a cart.

  “I bribed the guy to let me deliver it.”

  Gemma groaned in frustration. Why was he still here? Was he trying to torture her?

  “If you think I’m tipping you, you’re crazy.”

  “No tip necessary. Just agree to have lunch with me.”

  His smile was infectious, just like Charlie’s, and her heart contracted as she realized how much her son really did look like his dad. Even the devilish gleam when he knew he was wearing her down was the same.

  “I think I’ll just stick with my chocolate cake,” she said.

  “Gemma,” he said softly, just on the edge of pleading. She wanted to cave, to give in and hear him out. His face might be older, but Travis’s effect on her sure hadn’t faded. The little age lines around his eyes and mouth made him look ruggedly handsome, and they were doing crazy things to her libido. A libido that was telling her in no uncertain terms that ignoring it had not made it go away.

  Charlie. Think about Charlie.

  “I know how we left things, and I could have handled them better. I should have gone after you, but instead, I let my pride make all the decisions.” He took a step forward and tucked her hair behind her ear. Gemma’s cheek tingled where his fingers had grazed her skin. “I hear there’s a great Mexican restaurant inside one of the casinos a few blocks away. I would really love it if you’d take a chance and join me for lunch.”

  A lump formed in Gemma’s throat, and her sane, rational side screamed at her to say no. What were they going to talk about? The way they had left things in Phoenix? That they had a nine-year-old son and she’d failed to tell Travis about him?

  She could only stand there frozen as Travis leaned down and kissed her cheek. Moving his mouth against her skin, he whispered, “I’ve missed you, Gemma.”

  Her eyes closed at his touch and her stomach flipped over like a flapjack. Swallowing the lump, she whispered, “Okay.”

  “I’ll come back in about an hour,” he said, and she opened her eyes just in time to catch his smile, which seemed to have a triumphant edge to it.

  Without waiting for her reply, Travis turned to amble back down the hallway, and Gemma was so frazzled, she almost forgot to pull the room service cart inside. She went back to shut the door and caught Travis’s gaze one more time before the elevator dinged open. He gave her a wink as he stepped inside.


  Gemma closed the door and as she leaned back against the solid wood, it was hard for her to wrap her head around the serendipity of the past hour. She had come to Vegas for a little reading and relaxation, and now she was going to lunch with the man who had once been her whole world.

  And she had no idea what she was going to say to him.

  Of all the hotels in all the cities in all the world, Travis Bowers had to walk into this one.

  TRAVIS HAD TRAVELED the world, was recognized by people every day, and women threw themselves at him constantly. Having perfected the ability to let nothing surprise him, he was known by his manager, handlers, and tour mates as having nerves of steel, even onstage.

  But seeing Gemma again had rocked him to his core.

  He’d grown up in the foster-care system after his mother had overdosed when he was five, and the only thing that had gotten him through eight crappy foster homes and schools had been music.

  Until junior year, when he’d been moved to Rock Canyon and gone to the library at his new school to get a book for his English class. He’d asked a tall brunette with glasses for help, and Gemma had hooked him with her mossy hazel eyes and sweet smile. Travis had never had a problem getting girls, but he wasn’t the type to get serious . . . he’d never stayed in one place long enough.

  But when Gemma had held out her hand and welcomed him to Rock Canyon, he’d been consumed by the need to find out everything he could about her. Most of the people he talked to had either called her a bookworm or “the fat girl in the library,” which had really pissed him off. The only helpful information he could get about her had come from his lab partner, Michael Stevens, a scrawny kid with long hair and glasses, who was a crack-up. They’d gotten on well which didn’t happen often for him, and he’d told Mike about the girl in the library.

  “Gemma Carlson? Sophomore with glasses? She’s a nice girl; tutors kids after school, if you need some extra help,” Mike had said, giving him a sly smile.

  Travis had taken the information and run with it, setting up an appointment with her the next week. When he’d walked into the library and their eyes met, her wide grin had been inviting and as warm as a fire, drawing him to her.

  “Hey again,” she’d said as he’d approached her.

  “Hey yourself. I hear you’re the girl to see if you need some help in English,” he said, coming around the table to sit next to her.

  When they’d finished, he’d signed up again, and the more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to be near her. Still, he knew he wasn’t the right guy for her, not as a boyfriend, anyway. He was a mess of teenage hormones and other, deeper issues, but Gemma’s twinkling eyes made him forget about the past. She made him feel like maybe he wasn’t completely broken.

  When he finally asked her to his first gig, she’d shown up with her best friend, Gracie McAllister. Gracie was a petite blonde with a big personality, and he’d liked her boisterousness, especially when he introduced Gracie to Mike and the two of them started sparring verbally. He’d come off the stage after his set and Gemma had given him a bear hug tight enough to crack a couple of ribs.

  “That was amazing, Trav!”

  Trav. No one had ever given him a nickname before.

  After that night, the four of them had become a close-knit group, and for the first time in his life, Travis knew what it was like to have good friends. But the really special times were when it was just Gemma and him, when he told her things he’d never said to another person, or she read his mood without him having to say anything. She was the best friend he’d ever had, and he’d tried to resist messing it up, tried not to feel anything else for her, but it was inevitable.

  He was meant to love Gemma Carlson.

  Over a year and a half of friendship later, it took being dumped before prom to help him get over his reservations and ask Gemma out. Throughout the night, he hadn’t been able to look away from her, finding himself making excuses to touch her hand and dancing as much as possible, just to hold her against him. It was during Lonestar’s “Amazed” that he’d looked into those gorgeous eyes and dipped his head to kiss her. It had been like getting caught in an electric storm: shocks flew through him every time their lips touched. They hadn’t stopped kissing, even after the song changed.

  For four months they’d been blissfully happy, talking about their future together and their dreams, all the way until he’d been signed to Off Road Records and left on tour. He’d told her it didn’t matter how far away he was, his heart was with her, and it seemed like she’d believed him.

  And then Phoenix had happened.

  As Travis exited the elevator, he was brought back to the here and now. For some reason, fate had brought Gemma back to him, and he was going to do everything he could to make her forgive him. When she’d left him, he’d been hurt and angry. He knew his past relationships weren’t the stuff of fairy tales, but with Gemma it had been different. He’d loved her. He would never have hurt her.

  If only she’d believed that, where would they be?

  No use going over the might-have-beens. Concentrate on now.

  He stood in front of Gemma’s door and rolled his shoulders back before knocking.

  Gemma answered a few seconds later, wearing a simple blue top and a denim skirt. The neckline of her shirt dipped into a v, and he had a hard time not looking at the generous view of her breasts. His mouth kicked up into a smile when he thought about all the times he’d had his hands on them. If Gemma only knew the direction his mind had taken, she’d slam the door in his face. Again.

  “You look great,” he said, holding out his arm to her. “Shall we?”

  Her cheeks turned pink and she said, “Thank you.”

  He was a little disappointed when she didn’t take his arm, but he tried to take it in stride.

  Patience, Bowers. It’s been ten years. It’s gonna take longer than ten minutes to regain her trust.

  “How far is this place?” Gemma asked, changing the subject as she shut the door of her room.

  “Just a few casinos down.” Travis kept pace with her down the hallway to the elevator, pressing the button as he studied her. She’d taken off her glasses, so she must be wearing contacts, and her slim, pert nose had him itching to lean over and kiss it, like he’d done a thousand times before. It was hard to remember that he no longer had the right to touch Gemma freely, to hold her hand and kiss the back of her neck in that place that used to make her shiver in his arms. God, just thinking about the way she’d looked when he’d kiss and touch her, his mouth skimming the skin of her thigh. Her lips would part, her eyes barely opened as she’d wiggle under his kiss and hands . . .

  When the door opened, he tried to discreetly adjust the ache of his erection. He was here to make amends, not fantasize about a woman who could barely stand his presence. He followed her in, catching a whiff of sweet vanilla and some kind of fruit, the scent doing nothing to abate his desire. Another thing that hadn’t changed about her, and it was comforting. As the elevator whizzed down, Travis inched closer to her until his arm brushed hers. He could tell by the way she held her shoulders that she was tense and nervous, and he almost reached out to rub them but had a feeling she wouldn’t welcome the gesture.

  The doors opened, and Travis felt Gemma jerk beside him when several people pulled out camera phones, clicking pictures as they passed. Travis smiled at them and tried to get the door for Gemma, who had her head bent down, trying to conceal her face with her thick veil of hair, but the doorman beat him to it.

  “Good afternoon, folks.” Travis watched the doorman’s eyes widen as he recognized him. He half-expected him to ask for an autograph, but the man seemed to decide against it. “You have a nice day.”

  Travis smiled and noted his name. He like a man with discretion. “Thank you. You do the same, Gerald.”

  Gerald grinned, and Travis turned his attention back to Gemma, who looked like she was going to jump at the first boo.

  “Are you okay?” Travi
s asked as they walked along the crowded sidewalk.

  “Is it like that all the time for you?”

  “Like what?” He smiled at the people who stared as they passed and ignored a few more camera-phone flashes. He caught Gemma holding her hand up to cover her face and understood. Gemma had never been the type to seek attention, but for him, it came with the territory.

  Lately, though, he had been impatient with the tight schedules and fake people constantly dogging him for one thing or another. He loved music and was grateful for his success, but he was definitely done with the users. He had been itching for some time off for a while, which was how he’d ended up with a few weeks off after this charity thing tonight. The only reason he’d agreed to go was because he was in town, and Callum O’Shea, the hotel’s owner and a good friend, had asked him to.

  He realized Gemma had said something. “Sorry, what?”

  “Do you always have cameras flashing in your face everywhere you go?” she asked.

  “Sometimes. It depends. Not everyone recognizes me, especially if they don’t listen to country,” he said, holding open the door of the casino for her, leaving the adoring fans outside.

  “Really? They won’t recognize you from that movie you did with Emma Stone?” she asked teasingly.

  Travis shook his head. “I doubt it. I keep trying to forget that one.”

  “Come on, it wasn’t bad. It was cute. What girl doesn’t dream of falling in love with a hot rodeo cowboy?” She raised her voice over the noise of the casino.

  “Yeah, women loved it and men wondered what the hell I was thinking.”

  As they wound their way through the slot machines and poker tables, Travis reached back for Gemma’s hand. When she tried to pull it away, he stopped and faced her. “I was just trying to make sure I didn’t lose you in the crowd.”