How to Be a Rockstar's Girlfriend: a fake dating, small town, rockstar romantic comedy (Cash &

Chapter 2

Gibson – a rockstar who’s about to learn a smile and a wink can’t get him everything he wants

Gibson

“Here you are.” The waitress, Cheyenne according to her name tag, sets the burger in front of me. “If you won’t be needing anything else?”

She has a certain gleam in her eye. It says I can drag her into the nearest closet and she’ll let me have my wicked way with her. The joys of being a rockstar never get old.

“I’ll be needing your number.” I waggle my eyebrows at her. She tears off a piece of paper from her order pad and hands it to me. I smirk. She had her number ready for me.

“Thanks.” I wink.

“We’ll have another round of beers,” Cash says, and Cheyenne startles.

Her eyes widen on Cash. I hold back my sigh. It’s always this way. I can get a woman to drop her panties for me but they still stare at Cash as if he’s a god because he’s the lead singer of our band, Cash the Sinners.

I should have never agreed to the name. The Sinners would have been fine. Why did we need to add the whole ‘Cash ’-part?

“I love your new song,” Cheyenne breathes out.

Cash smirks as he throws his arm around Indigo. “I wrote it for her.”

Cheyenne sighs, and I roll my eyes. Our manager tried to talk Cash out of telling the world about his love for Indigo. He claimed it would ‘hurt his image’. I wish. Instead, women crush on Cash even more. Apparently, a bad boy who settles down is catnip to women. Good thing I am never settling down.

“It’s beyond romantic how all of the band members are falling in love.”

I wish Cheyenne was exaggerating or this was some rumor the paparazzi thought up. Unfortunately, it’s true. My bandmates are falling faster than female fans when I take my shirt off.

First Cash got back together with his high school sweetheart, Indigo. After which, Dylan – the lead guitarist – fell for Virginia, a shy librarian. And now, Fender – the grumpy bass player who claimed he’d never fall for a woman again – is smitten with Leia.

Only Jett and I are left over. I catch the drummer’s eyes and feign gagging. He laughs. The two of us are of the same mind. No girlfriends. No attachments. And definitely none of this love bullshit.

“When are you leaving?” I ask Jett once the waitress saunters away.

He shrugs. “The surfing competition isn’t for a few weeks yet.”

Jett’s an adrenaline junkie. He’s never met an adventure he didn’t want to try. I think it’s hilarious. The rest of the band thinks otherwise. So, he missed the sound check in Vegas because he was ziplining across the grand canyon. Big deal.

“You going to scream like a baby when you get in the water again?”

He glares at me. “I did not scream like a baby when I got in the water. I yelled because there was a shark in the water. It bit one of the surfers.”

“And you passed out from the sight of blood.”

“I do not pass out at the sight of blood.”

Cash grunts. “If he passed out at the sight of blood, he never would have been able to message us when he got a compound fracture while he was hiking El Caminito del Rey in Spain.”

Dylan frowns. “We had to delay the concert in Lisbon for over a week.”

Jett grunts. “You can’t bitch when I played with a broken leg.”

“Dude,” I begin. “It’s a good thing we fly in a private plane. Getting through security with all the metal you have in your body would be a trial.”

“Why is everyone picking on me?” Jett asks. “I’m not the one who asked for the waitress’ number in front of everyone.”

Fender rolls his eyes. “You already had it.”

“Whoa. You got the waitress’ number before me?” I ask Jett.

“Her name is Cheyenne.”

I rear back. “You remember their names now?”

“I always remember their names.”

Cash growls. “Can you stop showing off your man whore tendencies in front of my woman?”

Indigo elbows him. “What are you? A caveman? You gonna drag me out of here by my hair next?”

His eyes heat. “If you want me to pull your hair, all you have to do is ask.”

I lean forward. “Now, we’re talking. Do you usually engage in hair play? How about spanking with a hairbrush?”

Virginia groans and covers her face. “I don’t want to know.”

Dylan slaps my shoulder. “Don’t embarrass Ginny.”

“Boring.” I down my beer.

My bandmates frown at me. I know they think I’m drinking too much, but I have it under control. I’m not an alcoholic. And I’m not discussing my drinking.

I stand. “Who’s ready to hit up Electric Vibes?”

I throw some cash on the table and aim for the door. Electric Vibes is a hippy bar in Winter Falls. It’s the only bar in Winter Falls. Lucky for me, it’s a cool place to hang out. It’s two doors down from the brewery, Naked Falls Brewing, where the band had dinner.

Everything’s close in Winter Falls. You can walk from one end of the town to the other in less than thirty minutes. What is a world-famous band doing here? I have no idea. We originally came to record our album at Bertie’s Recording Studio and never left.

I’m ready to hit the road to promote our new album but the lovebirds don’t want to go anywhere. In fact, we aren’t doing our typical world tour. We’re doing mini-tours for a year.

I’m bored and ready to do something else but I don’t know what. We’ve been recording or touring constantly for ten years now. I don’t know what to do with myself when I’m not occupied with the band. If I did, I’d be out of Winter Falls in a flash.

When we arrive at the bar, there’s a woman squaring off with Old Man Mercury at the door. Old Man Mercury is one of the original founders of Winter Falls. He puts Fender’s grumpiness to shame.

“I don’t care, Uncle Mercury,” the woman screeches as she stands in front of the bar to block Mercury from entering.

“Get out of my way, Mercy,” he grumbles at her.

“No. You shouldn’t be drinking.”

I bristle. I hate it when someone tells me not to drink. I imagine Mercury feels the same way.

“I’ll drink if I damn well want to.”

“The doctor said—”

“I don’t give a shit what the doctor said.”

I stroll up to them. “If the man wants a drink, let him drink.”

The woman whirls on me. I freeze when those dark brown eyes the color of a nice stout beer glare at me. My gaze roams over the rest of her. Her hair is auburn, the color of amber ale, and her lips are dark red. The woman’s a knockout.

I want her in my bed. I want those lips swollen from my kisses, my hands fisting those auburn strands, and her dark brown eyes overcome with passion. My cock twitches. He’s on board.

Thank fuck. He’s been a bit bored of the women I’ve brought to bed lately. But this woman – Mercy I believe her name is – intrigues him as she does me.

“I don’t recall asking for your opinion,” she growls at me. “In fact, I don’t know who you are.”

“Gibson Lewis.” I bow. “At your service.”

“Whatever.” She turns away to face Old Man Mercury again. “Mercury, you said—”

Hold on. Is she seriously ignoring me? Me, the rockstar?

Mercury wags a finger at her. “No, I didn’t. You assumed.”

I force my way in front of Mercy. “Excuse me. Do you not know who I am?”

She plants her hands on her hips. “Can you not see I’m busy?”

“She’s awesome,” Indigo declares behind me. “She’s going to be my next bestie.”

I ignore Indigo and make another attempt to capture Mercy’s attention. “But—”

Jett snags my wrist and drags me away from her. “Try to accept your defeat with some grace.”

I can’t keep my eyes off this woman. “She didn’t know who I was,” I mutter.

“Not everyone knows who we are.”

In my experience, they do. Usually, we’re surrounded by fans wherever we go. Winter Falls is the one place where we can be ourselves. The press has tried to intrude several times but the inhabitants of this quirky town have managed to drive them away each time.

Fender clears his throat. “Shall we go inside?”

“I’m with Fender,” Dylan says as he clasps Virginia’s hand.

Cash leads Indigo to the bar. At the door, Indigo stops to wave at Mercy. “See you later.”

I step toward Mercy. Jett tries to block me. “Let it go.”

I can’t let it go. I’m intrigued by this beauty who is pretending not to know who I am. Yes, pretending. There’s no way she doesn’t know who I am. She’s playing hard to get. Fine. I’ll chase her.

I nudge Jett out of the way and stalk to Mercy. “Mercy.”

She whirls around. “You again?”

“Have you heard of the band Cash the Sinners?”

“Cash and the who?”

She’s laying it on thick now.

“You know. Cash the Sinners. World famous rock band.”

She rolls her eyes. “I don’t listen to rock. I’m a country girl.”

My brow wrinkles. A country girl? My gaze roves over her. The black t-shirt she’s wearing is loose but the neckline is low enough for me to catch a glimpse of her cleavage. I want more than a glimpse.

Her t-shirt’s tucked into a pair of worn jeans. The material hugs her hips and have holes in her knees. I bet those legs would feel fabulous wrapped around my hips as I plunge into her. On her feet are a pair of cowboy boots.

“I don’t mind country girls,” I finally say once I’m done checking her out.

“But I mind rockers.”

I rear back. “Excuse me?”

I’ve never met a woman who didn’t jump at the chance to be with a rocker before. I didn’t think they existed.

The door shuts behind her and she peers over her shoulder. “Damn. Mercury got away.”

She rushes after him without a second glance at me. Huh. She wasn’t kidding about not knowing who I am.

Challenge accepted.