Rock Me (New Adult Romance) Read Online Free Page B

edge to his voice.
    “Whatever bro,” the guy mumbled, looking
back at his phone. Liam, almost defiantly, tipped my face up to look at him and
kissed me softly on the side of my mouth. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he
murmured.
    The journalist arrived, dressed in
rolled-up pants, fancy shoes, square glasses, and a checked shirt. The whole
nerd-chic thing really seemed to have taken off. I could never have imagined a
guy back home dressed like that, though I thought it was kind of cool.
    The journalist settled in and thanked us
all for coming. Liam introduced me, but the guy barely glanced my way. We
ordered first. Liam egged me into choosing the $26 Black Label burger, which
apparently was one of the best burgers in New York. My arteries were begging me
not to, but what was I going to say to a free crazy-expensive burger?
    The interviewer switched on a tiny
recording device and dived into his list of questions. The band looked a lot
more awake than I’d ever seen then, eagerly answering every question while
laughing and joking freely. I got the sense that this interview was a big deal
for them.
    But Liam didn’t join in the fun. He
didn’t volunteer any information and only answered direct questions in the
briefest of sentences. I watched him curiously, wondering why he was so
reluctant to participate.
    The food arrived. The burger was like a
work of art—caramelized onions sat on top of a juicy slab of beef that
was sandwiched between two fluffy brioche buns. I tried one of the skinny
little flies that accompanied it. It was salty, crunchy, and definitely the
best French fry I’d ever tasted. Whatever power had decided I was going to get
a to-die-for meal and a rock god this afternoon was definitely looking
out for my best interests.
    The afternoon started to go sour, though,
when the interviewer decided to corner said rock god.
    “So Liam, I’m wondering how you got your
start in music. After all, I’ve heard you studied to be a car mechanic. Though rumor
is your stepfather was an ace with the acoustic guitar. Was he the one who
encouraged you to try the business?”
    Liam immediately stiffened. I could hear
his breathing become shallower. “Not really,” he said quietly. “He had nothing
to do with it.”
    But the interviewer didn’t look
satisfied. “But your family doesn’t have a history of playing music. You didn’t
even take lessons growing up. And I hear your stepfather played at local clubs,
was a real favorite.”
    “Yeah man, he played country stuff.
Nothing like what I do. He had zero to do with my career or me learning to play
the guitar, OK?”
    But instead of backing down, the
interviewer just looked more interested. He leaned forward. “Your birth dad
skipped out when you were young. Did you take up the guitar as a way to cope? A
lot of your songs are about loss, I’m just wondering what makes you write
them.”
    Liam pushed away his plate of steak and
fries. “Look man, I know you’re here to get the dirt, but I don’t want to talk
about my past, OK? That stuff’s over and done with. Now my life is about my
music, about getting people pumped about rock, and about travelling. You got
questions about those things, I’ll answer them.”
    “Okay, take it easy,” the interviewer
replied, looking taken aback. “It’s cool. But you say you want to talk about
your music, I want to know what inspires those songs because that’s what your
fans want to know. It sounds like you had a crazy past—Dad skips out,
stepdad was charged with public drunkenness several times…”
    Liam, who was on the outside of the
booth, immediately slid out and grabbed his leather jacket. “You got a real
nerve, man,” he said fiercely. “Why you want to go and bring that stuff up?
It’s none of your damn business or anyone else’s for that matter. I’m outta
here. Later guys.” And with that he took off. The interviewer and I sat there
gape-mouthed while the other guys merely continued chewing like