You Really Got Me (Rock Star Romance #1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

economic reasons. The guys got married, had kids, had bills to pay. They grew up. Every day that passed took him one step away from the luxury of being able to wait it out.
    At the bottom of the stairs, she rubbed his back. “We’ll get you there, Derek.”
    He gave her a tentative smile, and her heart ached for him. “If anyone can help us, I know you can. I’ll see you tonight.”
    After the door closed behind him, determination set in. She wouldn’t just get Snatch some gigs and put together their press kit. No, she’d do more.
    In fact, what about that singer her dad had been talking about? Piper Lee not only wrote her own songs, but she was gorgeous and sexy, and had movie-star charisma.
    He’d said she was gearing up for her first big tour. She’d need an opening act, wouldn’t she? Of course, Emmie’d have to see Snatch live a few more times, get a better feel for their stage presence, but in the meantime, she’d do some research.
    Imagine Snatch opening for a rising star like Piper Lee.
    Emmie would totally make that happen for her brother.

THREE
    Emmie slipped the folded piece of paper in her pocket and headed downstairs. Time to address her second agenda. The secret one.
    It felt weird to be alone in this house. Thrift-store furniture, bare walls, bookshelves that held nothing but a basketball and some empty beer bottles . . . the place felt like a well-used fraternity house. Entering the all-white kitchen, she immediately spied the ground beans her brother had left out for her. The aroma, rich and robust, filled the room. She tipped the beans into the filter, set the carafe under the faucet, and thought,
Should I really be doing this?
    Well, she’d already gotten the contact information for Piper’s manager, finished compiling her research, filled the dates on her calendar—and it was only eight in the morning—so, yeah, she could spend some time on herself.
    She stilled, listening for sounds, before pulling her secret list out of her pocket.
    Her brother had made it clear she had the place to herself until at least noon. They’d all arranged their work schedules so they could get off at four, leaving plenty of time for rehearsals and gigs. Slater tended bar at the hottest club in town, so he didn’t come home until at least three in the morning. Later, more likely, since she guessed he did his hooking up after that. Derek assured her she wouldn’t see him until at least noon.
    So, she was good. All the time in the world to address her personal issue. Unfolding the list and smoothing it on the counter, hope unfurled in her chest when she read the words.
My Body Electric.
She’d thought of a dozen titles—Getting Wild, Unleashing the Inner Vixen—but nothing had hit her as hard as the Walt Whitman poem. She loved the whole concept of rejoicing in her sexuality, her femininity. Besides, what if someone found the list in her purse or on her dresser?
Can you imagine?
She would die if one of the guys found it.
Body Electric
wouldn’t mean anything to them.
    But, honestly, it wasn’t like she had sexual hang-ups. She and Alex had done it in bathrooms, the office supply room, even in a utility closet at a gig in Greenwich Village. Hadn’t he liked
any
of it? He’d certainly seemed to at the time. But he’d said she wasn’t passionate. She wasn’t wild.
    What did
wild
mean, exactly? No, she hadn’t pole danced for him. And she’d never been so carried away she’d screamed when she came. Did anybody really do that?
    But, God, to say she’d
serviced
him.
    The humiliation burned in her chest, an ember that flared and sparked every time she thought of it. She’d been so secure in her relationship. Talking about him in the office as though they were a solid, happy couple, when all along everyone knew what he was doing on the road . . . everyone but her.
    It made her feel so inadequate. Of course she knew
he
was the jerk for cheating on her. But that didn’t take away the deep, enduring