Rock Stars Do It Dirty Read Online Free PDF Page B

since used the money fronted him by the record label to pay off his house. He had a cousin drop by once a week to keep the place from looking abandoned, so when he finally walked into his house in the suburb of   Sterling Heights, it was clean, the lawn mowed, the fridge empty of molding food and spoiled milk. He’d called his cousin, Amy, from Chicago and let her know he was coming home, and she’d stocked his kitchen with some food staples. In return, he’d mailed her money and a ream of tickets to the next Detroit show.
    He stood in his living room, trying not to remember the last time he had been here. He had stood in this very spot, just to the left of the faded suede couch, while a certain blonde-haired, hazel-eyed DJ had stolen his heart, one stripped-off article of clothing at a time. Her bra and panties had been blue, lacy, and too fucking sexy for his own good. God, what a night that had been.
    Chase shook himself. No sense in thoughts like that. It wasn’t Anna on his mind or in his heart anymore, anyway. He hadn’t really been truly in love with her, he had long since realized. He had been falling in love with her, but hadn’t been there yet. She’d run off before that could happen.
    Not that he was at all bitter about it.  
    Then Jamie had come along while he was at his most vulnerable and had wormed her way into the aching space in his heart. She was all curls and curves, red hair like fire-lit copper and fierce green eyes, soft lips that tasted of vodka and cranberry and lip balm. She’d given him the slightest taste of what it would have been like to be her lover, and then snatched it away from him.
    Not that he was at all bitter about it.
    He rummaged in the fridge, found a case of Harp lager, popped one open, and sipped from it while he made himself a sandwich. He was back in Detroit. Jamie didn’t live too far away. Finding her would be a piece of cake.  
    No .  
    Chase scrubbed his face with his palm. That was over. She’d made her choice clear. She didn’t want him. Although that wasn’t true, exactly. She did want him, equally as much as he wanted her. She just refused to let herself have him. Sure, he understood her reasons; they were perfectly reasonable and correct reasons, after all. It’s not like he wanted to see Anna all the time. It would have been difficult and awkward as hell.  
    But Jamie…she would have been worth it.  
    Would have been.
    Chase finished his beer and swirled the suds on the bottom around, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do with himself now.  
    He picked up his phone and scrolled through his contacts until he found the one he was looking for: Eric Meridian. Eric owned a gym and kickboxing studio not far from Chase’s house, and he had often gone there before the band really took off, sparring with Eric, pumping iron, or just pummeling the heavy bag until the stress was reduced to a manageable level.
    Chase needed to vent. Badly. He sent a text to Eric asking if he had time to spar and waited for a reply.  
    Within minutes, Eric texted back: I’ve always got time to spar bro. Drop by whenever you want.  
      Chase grinned, changed into workout shorts and a tank top, packed a clean change of clothes, and drove to the gym. When he got there, Eric was taping his fists. Tall, wiry, nondescript of feature with short brown hair and brown eyes, Eric didn’t seem to be the kind of person you should be afraid of, but he was. Eric was deadly proficient in several styles of martial arts, mainly Muai Thai, kickboxing, and Jiujitsu. He wasn’t hugely muscled, didn’t have any tattoos or piercings, and would pass on the street for an accountant or CPA, but Eric Meridian was, in reality, one of the hardest and toughest people Chase had ever met.
    Chase taped his fists, stretched out, and then he and Eric stepped into the small roped-off ring. They began circling each other, fists raised, bodies twisted sideways to present the smallest possible target.