Read His Rock & Roll Girl (Emerald City #2) for Free Online Page A

no tears had fallen yet, and fixed her gaze on him. “I’m fine.”
    “Are you sure? I saw the walls in the lobby.”
    She rolled her chair back enough to take herself away from his reach. Something inside snapped, when she broke the contact between them. She obliterated another rush of frustration, before it could consume her. “Just some asshole, right? We’ll take care of it.”
    His jaw clenched, and he stood. “I suppose.”
    She forced herself to her feet as well, and nodded toward the exit. “Are they done talking to you?”
    “They said they might call me for more, but they have all they need for now.” He reached for her.
    She stayed out of his grasp. “Glad to hear it.” A new thought entered her mind, and she hated her brain for dragging this up now. Why couldn’t she just let him leave, and pretend she’d been too frazzled to question his original motives? But now the doubt was in her head, she had to know. “Do you want to schedule some time to come back with the entire band? To film?”
    He jammed his hands in his pockets and looked away. “We’ll see how the tour schedule goes. Let me know when things are back up to par here, and we’ll work it out.”
    Damn it. A new flavor of angry hurt surfaced. At least it was a distraction from the mess around her. “Did you even plan on booking time here? Or was that just bullshit?”
    He finally locked his gaze on hers again, a storm raging in his eyes. “We really do want the studio. I’m here alone because I wanted to make things right with you.”
    She wouldn’t let the words affect her. Couldn’t. “You could have just said so.”
    “Would you have made time?”
    The question dug deep. She knew he was twisting the conversation. This was just like back then. Turning the blame back on her for overreacting. Refusing to say what was actually on his mind. What he was feeling.
    She couldn’t do this right now.
    She didn’t have much composure left, but grabbing it from deep inside and pulling it to the surface was comforting. It numbed the doubt and blanketed the helplessness. “I’m sorry we couldn’t work something out, Mr. Blaydes. Maybe next time.” Her voice was cool, even to her own ears, and she let herself believe she meant it.
    “Lover, please.”
    “Don’t call me that.” Ice coated her words. She nudged him toward the exit. More turmoil boiled inside when she saw the fans starting to gather beyond the police lines again. Had one of them done this? Was one of her staff wishing they were out there with the girls? “Enjoy your flight out.”
    He fixed another hard gaze on her, eyes searching her face. She stared back blankly, keeping her expression impassive.
    “I will. Thanks.” His frigid tone shifted to match hers. Seconds later, he was strolling out the front door, toward a waiting car. He nodded at two women—girls?—in the growing crowd.
    Their squeals pierced Roz’s eardrums, as they fell into step beside him, one hanging off each of his arms.
    Truth crashed in around her. She had just done everything she hated him for. Swallowed her feelings. Bit back the one chance to be honest with him and herself. Destroyed maybe her only chance to tell Quinn she still loved him, for fear of rejection. She sank onto the arm of a nearby sofa, clinging like mad to any composure she had left. She failed to stop the tears from leaking from her eyes and spilling down her cheeks.

Chapter Eight
    “I’m not going with you.”
    Quinn stared back at Roz. The words had reached his ears clearly, but he had to have heard her wrong. “Excuse me?”
    “On tour.” Her every syllable was clear and measured. “I’m not going with you.”
    Panic clawed his brain, and he smothered it with confidence. He had this under control. “Long distance is going to be tough. We’ll have to go months without seeing each other.” His mouth kept talking, even though part of him knew he should have stopped there. “There will be a lot of other girls on