DOUBLE TREBLE (A TWIN ROCKSTAR ROMANCE) Read online

Nicole would understand, but she wasn’t who I was worried about disappointing.

  Even with the chaotic traffic, I pulled into the restaurant parking lot only ten minutes late. Hopping out and bolting inside, I panted while I spoke to the surprised and flustered hostess.

  “There’s a reservation under Fisher. They should already be waiting on me… I believe it’s a party of three.”

  The hostess, a chipper young girl who Stepford-smiled her way through the entire encounter, glanced through her touchscreen for a moment.

  I was silently cursing myself when I felt a pair of arms wrap around my shoulders, realizing that I had been sneakily yanked into a warm hug.

  “I’ll take over from here,” Nicole cheerily told the hostess. “I know where this lost little puppy is supposed to be.”

  “Very well,” the hostess smiled at the two of us warmly. “Enjoy your meals, and do let me know if you need anything else.”

  “You got it!”

  My best friend of eight years pulled me aside from the hostess stand. Dressed in a monochromatic striped long-sleeve with black leggings and lace-up boots, all underneath a lush, brown elegant dress, Nicole Fisher was the epitome of the quirky chick who knew how to class it up.

  “Bitch, you’re late,” she chastised me.

  “I know, I know!” I groaned. “I’m sorry, traffic was awful.”

  She raised an eyebrow, glancing over the ensemble I’d hastily tossed together on my way out the door. I hoped that homeless punk chic was the way to go for whatever was happening.

  Speaking of…

  “So, what’s going on?” I hastily asked her. “You didn’t tell me anything over the phone. Just something about some music guy I needed to meet, yeah?”

  “Fee, don’t get all fan-girl on me now but… you wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” She smirked, taking me by the hand and half-dragging me across the restaurant.

  “Nicole, wait– I don’t think–”

  We arrived at a cozy table off to the side, where our third guest, a casual, handsome guy in his early thirties, was buried in a menu.

  She warmly introduced me. “Jeremy, I’d like you to meet my BFF, Phoenix Flynn.”

  He lowered his menu, and I almost lost my goddamn mind right there on the spot. “Hello there,” he stood up, holding out his hand with a grin. “I don’t expect you to know me, but I’m–”

  “Jeremy Clarke. You’re the band manager for Decadent Desires!” I hastily blabbered, quickly shaking his hand. Nicole was laughing next to me, and I realized that I needed to save face.

  “I’m sorry, I’m just… I’m a fan.”

  “So I’ve been told!” Jeremy chuckled warmly, helping us into our seats before pulling up his chair. “How are you tonight?”

  “Doing a hell of a lot better now that I know who I’m meeting for dinner…”

  “Oh, Nicole didn’t tell you?” He raised a questioning eyebrow at her. “Are you telling me that you didn’t give her the news?”

  “Nah,” my best friend grinned, already cutting herself a slice of bread. “Thought that would be your bombshell to drop. The way I saw it, I wanted you both to have a…” she paused, waving the knife while searching for the right word, “an authentic reaction to each other.”

  He shared my sour expression, rolling his eyes. Only five seconds with this guy, and I could tell that I was going to like him.

  “As a heads up, my brain doesn’t work properly when I’m surprised with stuff like this,” I nervously smiled. “How about we get our orders in before we start breaking the ice?”

  Jeremy laughed heartily. “You know, I’m starving. That works for me!”

  I felt even worse. “I’m so sorry that I was late. Traffic was–”

  He dismissed my fears with a scoff. “Don’t worry about it, Phoenix. Aiden and Dylan are such a handful that I have to eat whenever I can. I’m used to the occasional skipped meals around those two.”

  Jeremy Clarke knows my name.

  Of course he did, I’d just been introduced. But hearing him speak it gave me a shudder. And he spoke so casually of the hottest rocker twins in the business…

  After we placed our orders with the waitress, I listened to the two of them make small talk for a while. She was her usual, obliviously flirtatious self, but I could tell he was looking at her much more like an old friend. It appeared that Nicole and Jeremy knew each other pretty well.

  That wasn’t terribly surprising. Nicole’s father had been a legendary promoter before the accident. After she dropped out of school, his friends in the business took her under their wing and spent the last three years grooming her for promotion superstardom.

  But we’d kept in touch. I’d finished high school and floundered about a couple of years in odd jobs, trying to get a couple of bands up off the ground.

  “How’s working with Phil Leifferson?” Jeremy asked her over his whiskey neat. “Is he still showing you the ropes?”

  “He had a surgery about six weeks back,” Nicole replied. “Phil told me to take a breather for a little while. But I get the feeling that he’s looking to retire anyway.”

  “That’d be a hell of a rolodex to inherit,” Jeremy noted. “He hasn’t taken a protégé before… That’s a very ‘keys to the kingdom’ sort of situation if he does throw his hat in.”

  “Rolodex?” She asked, tilting her head.

  “Yeah,” I chimed in, happy to have something to contribute. “It’s a set of index cards that you flip through, attached to this rotating thing. What people in your position used before computers happened.”

  “Weird.” She wrinkled her nose. “Nah, I’m not into anything that analog. But you better believe I’m going to steal his cellphone and rip his contact list…”

  I shook my head. Clever as my friend was, she was utterly hopeless sometimes.

  “So, what have you been up to since?” He asked warmly. “Just hanging around the old home town for a bit?”

  “Thought I’d catch up,” she smiled, her gaze knowingly passing to me. “Meet up with some old friends again. Put a few wheels in motion.”

  I was about to ask what wheels she was talking about. Jeremy seemed ready to say something, but our entrées appeared and cut all of us off.

  Nicole’s eyes went wide at the grilled seafood platter placed in front of her. Jeremy clasped his hands together in anticipation at his huge New York strip steak with red mashed potatoes, and I glanced down at my order, the cheapest decent thing on the menu: a helping of spaghetti Bolognese.

  “Anything else?” Our waitress politely asked, her eyes darting from guest to guest at our table.

  Jeremy quickly cut his steak and smiled up at her. “Perfect.” The rest of us were good, so she promised to swing back and check on us, then left us to our devices.

  “So,” the band manager started after we’d had our first few bites, “I think it’s about time that we got down to things.” He looked over at me with a sly grin. “Why do you think that I’m here, Phoenix?”

  My fork paused halfway to my mouth as I snuck a glance at Nicole, who was caught up in her grilled shrimp. My utensil was apparently just the right altitude for a scoop of spaghetti to splatter back down to the plate.

  Smooth, Phoenix.

  Really smooth.

  “…I’m being offered a meet-and-greet with the band?” I guessed haphazardly.

  Jeremy grinned, holding back a laugh. Even Nicole seemed really amused, a smile creeping across her face.

  Why are they laughing? I mean… what else am I supposed to be thinking here?

  I was starting to get irritated when Jeremy turned back to me. “You really have no idea, do you?”

  “No… but if you’re trying to buy the rights to one of my original songs, I’m not really sure I’m looking to sell them…”

  He looked at Nicole and sighed heavily.

  “Phoenix, how familiar are you with Alex Lakes?”

  “Your bassist?” I clarified. “Well, I mean, he’s
been there since the very beginning. Plays a damn good show. Although the most recent bootleg uploads kind of make him seem a little… off, lately.”

  “How so?” He asked curiously.

  “I don’t know,” I frowned. “I mean, from what I’ve been able to see, he’s been missing cues and staggering around a little. He got a little belligerent at the microphone that one time a few weeks back… I’d guess he’s got a drinking problem.”

  “You saw that, huh?” Jeremy groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Well, I’ll cut straight to it. Alex was a recovered drug addict. After this last show, he collapsed.”

  “Holy shit,” I blurted out. “Is he okay?”

  The manager nodded. “Yeah, the doctors got him stable. Turns out he started using again. Alex got sent off to rehab yesterday morning.”

  I nodded, happy to hear that he was getting the help he needed. But then something else occurred to me, and my spirits collapsed.

  This explained why the last concert was suddenly canceled. I’d already bought my ticket to their next one, hoping it would stick, and this was my single shot at seeing Decadent Desires play live. I’d been looking forward to this for months and Nicole knew it.

  “Does that mean,” I asked tentatively, “that you guys are cancelling the rest of your tour?”

  “In any other circumstance, probably. We don’t turn our backs on our own.”

  His gaze briefly, subtly flickered to Nicole for a moment. She was carefully eating her dinner but listening intently.

  “You see, Phoenix, here’s the thing: there’s an opportunity coming up. Something big is about to happen, and this is the wrong time for Alex to relapse. He knew what was on the line and he screwed up more than just his own life... he seriously fucked over the rest of the band.”

  He sounded bitter, particularly on behalf of the others. It must have been pretty important. “An opportunity?” I asked.

  “Steven Stone, founder and CEO of Snow Leopard Records. You know his name, right? He is going to be at one of our next shows,” Jeremy told me. “This is a crossroads for the band. They can’t afford to fuck this up.”

  This was a big deal.

  Nicole piped up unexpectedly. “Snow Leopard is the biggest indie label in the rock business,” she explained to me as if I didn’t already know. “Steven Stone started it out of his garage a decade ago, and has grown it into a small empire. He’s a pretty reasonable guy. A little cutthroat sometimes, and kind of distant, but he takes care of his bands.

  “Usually, he sends some low-level rep to check out new talent, but he’s coming in person to scope out Decadent Desires. I can’t remember the last time I’ve heard of this guy taking such personal interest in a rising band.”

  “I knew it was a matter of time before a major label came sniffing around you guys,” I smiled at him. “Congratulations! But… why are you telling me all of this?”

  Jeremy took another bite of steak, pondering his thoughts. I did the same with my spaghetti until he leaned in.

  “We’ve already cancelled the next show to buy some time, but when the weekend hits, Steven will be there. What he sees is going to determine whether my boys have a real chance.”

  I swallowed.

  This was about to be a huge moment.

  “If I’m perfectly honest, kid, I’m in desperate need of someone who knows their songs, or can at least pass an audition and work out the kinks in the next few days.”

  I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t scream. I already knew the words that were about to come out of Jeremy’s mouth and I was doing everything I could to keep my composure.

  “And Nicole tells me you play bass…”

  Dylan

  None of us were sure what to expect when Jeremy called us all down to a local studio near the next concert venue. He made it sound so urgent that even Aidan felt curious enough to tag along.

  But when we walked into that room, everything changed forever.

  From the moment I first saw her, I couldn’t take my eyes off of the beautifully angelic stranger. Her flowing, golden hair swayed as she lifted her face at our arrival. Crystal clear blue eyes sparkled as they connected with my gaze, and I felt myself overwhelmed in an instant.

  “Who is she?” Aidan murmured.

  “I have no fucking idea…”

  Jeremy waved us over, his feet propped up on the sound station. With headphones already on, he curtly pointed out a set of them that were already plugged in, and we all grabbed a pair. I was so dumbstruck that I hadn’t even noticed she was strumming a bass guitar…

  “An audition?” Carter asked.

  “Just listen,” Jeremy smirked, slipping his headphone cup back over his ear.

  Aidan and I shared a glance, and then looked at her again. She knew we were here and was trying to keep her eyes off us. That much was obvious.

  I slipped the headphones on.

  Holy shit.

  She was dropping a bassline low enough to drag the goddamn Earth. Best part was, I recognized that sound…

  “There’s no way,” Carter was murmuring half a minute later as I lifted off one cup of the headset. “She’s playing Alex’s shit… hell, she’s playing better than he did.”

  There was no denying that.

  Our mystery player here was nailing this song. But it was only one of many…

  “Just wait,” Jeremy smiled at us. He leaned forward and pressed a button on the soundboard, speaking towards the mic. “They like it, kid. Do Unbroken next.”

  The girl looked at us all confidently, and then switched gears mid-song into the opening bass-line of our sleeper hit. This one, I’d written, although I’d never quite liked how it came out. We usually kept it off the live sets until we figured out how to tweak it.

  Just like the last one, she played with precision, obvious talent, and was self-assured enough to throw a little personality into the mix…

  Alex had always been a stiff bassist, like a goddamn statue that could wield a guitar. This girl knew how to feel the music. She moved her feet, let her shoulders bounce to the tempo, and meaningfully swayed her head with the melody.

  Best of all, she was confident enough to improvise. She was tweaking the notes as she went along, and I could feel something fucking beautiful thrumming under that bass line. With small changes to the way the rest of us played that song, it could be rescued from the scrap heap.

  Even better… it could be a hit. A big one.

  “I’m gonna call it,” Trevor said, grinning cheek to cheek like a madman. “This chick is awesome. And it’s not like we’ve heard anyone else audition. Whoever she is… guys, I think we need her.”

  “So, she can play two songs,” Carter observed, clearly unimpressed. Give it to our brooding naysayer to immediately look past the obvious star power and poke for flaws. “But can she handle a set?”

  “Only one way to find out,” Jeremy pulled his headset off. The rest of us kept at least a cup pressed to an ear. “You’re gonna have to take her for practice.”

  Aidan lifted an eyebrow.

  “You think that’s a good idea?”

  “It’s either that, or we start cancelling more shows. I mean, we can do that, but I can’t say that I’d recommend it…”

  “So, what?” Carter asked him. “What do we do now?”

  Jeremy crossed his arms.

  “Practice. Take her and run her through the entire set tomorrow. I’ve been assured by a reliable source that she knows all your songs. Even the bootleg shit from your early bar crawls. This chick is a big fan of the band.”

  “Is that so?” Aidan turned back to her.

  For a brief moment, I thought I saw a glint of something possessive in his eyes. But I blinked, and he was strangely cool and aloof again.

  “Well,” my brother grinned slowly, “the least we could do is invite her to practice and see how she jams with us. If she can handle a full set with us…”

  “Pretty much what I was thinking,” I nodded. “After all,
she’s good. Real good.”

  He glanced over, and we shared a look.

  Something passed between us.

  Recognition?

  I felt, suddenly, as if I was a lion staring down a lion from a rival pride, with an oblivious wounded gazelle standing between us.

  “Glad to hear it,” Jeremy noted. “The rest of you, what do you think?”

  “I like her,” Trevor smiled goofily. “She’s got style. I mean, look at her. She looks like she kind of knows what she’s doing. With a little prep, this chick could fit in great onstage.”

  Jeremy nodded, turning to Carter.

  “Well…” He turned to her for a moment, slipping the second cup back over his ear. Our quiet, insightful drummer listened for a few moments, then pulled the headset back off. “I don’t know. She sounds like she has the chops, but has she ever played on a stage? Does she really know what she’s doing?”

  “You’re just a spoil-sport,” I laughed.

  “Look at her,” Aidan pointed her out with his head. “Listen to her. She’s a natural. Unless she shoots up, I want her in this with us.” He noticed Carter’s suspicious glance and quickly added: “At least for a few weeks. Until this tour ends.”

  “No, you just want to bang her.”

  Fuck. If Carter could see it, then I wasn’t just imagining it. My brother had the scent and was going to stop at nothing to tear into his fresh prey.

  Not if I could help it.

  I’d protect her from him. He’d just burn her up and cast her aside like he did with every girl. But whoever she was… I could barely keep my eyes off of her. The thought of letting him ruin her made me see red.

  Aiden’s eyes narrowed.

  “I don’t fuck in the band.”

  “We’re dudes,” Carter replied. “Of course that’s easy to say when we’ve all got swinging dicks. But throw a hot piece of ass into the mix…”

  Aiden growled.

  Hell, I think even I snarled a little.

  “Let’s see how she plays a set before we make any solid decisions,” Jeremy spoke up, trying to defuse the situation.

  A silky, angelic voice came over the headsets. “You know… I can hear you guys.”