Free Rock Star: The Song (Book 1 of a Bad Boy Romance) by Kate Ward

imagined Chase was eating this up. No doubt he would have some snarky one-liner.
    Spike stepped down from the steps. “Ah, forget it. If you’re not interested.” I watched him approach his Yamaha dirt bike. Besides hovering around Sophie most of the day, he practically lived with that bike.
    “No. Sure, let’s meet tonight.”
    His face lit up.
    “Cool. What time?”
    “Seven?”
    “I’ll be there, sweet cheeks.”
    “Stop saying that.”
    He laughed as he slid on his helmet and his bike roared to life. Within a few seconds he zipped away, leaving a plume of smoke and grit in his wake.
    Chase exited the truck, and joined me in the desert cloud of dust.
    “Lover boy miss you?”
    “He’s not my lover, and it’s none of your business.”
    We walked on up to the cottage.
    “So what did he want?”
    “Curious, aren’t you?”
    “Maybe.”
    I smiled and waited for him to open the door.
    “You coming in for a drink?”
    “It’s the middle of the afternoon.”
    “So?”
    “Don’t you have a song to write?”
    He unlocked the door and swung it open. “That’s where you come in.”
    “What?”
    “I need some input, and you could use my input musically for your song. Maybe we could work together.”
    “I already have a guitarist.” I gestured over my shoulder as if Spike was still there.
    “Oh, lover boy.”
    I rolled my eyes and brushed past him. He seemed to enjoy the closeness. Inside I took a seat while he opened the sliding door and let in a gust of warm air.
    “Tell him something’s come up. You’ve been given the opportunity to work one-on-one with a professional. You know, make it sound like you really don’t have an option.”
    “You mean lie?”
    “Well, if you don’t want to candy-coat it. Sure.”
    “I can’t do that.”
    “Why not? Everyone lies.”
    “Not to my friends I don’t.”
    “It’s just business. Not personal.”
    “You are starting to sound an awful lot like the labels you say you hate.”
    He moved in close and took a hold of my hands. I inwardly shivered, wondering if he was going to kiss me again.
    “I’m just saying we’ve both got an opportunity here. You need to come up with a song that is going to floor them. I know you might have wowed them with your last one, but trust me. I know they don’t just bring in anyone to the final round. It’s a tough call. You are up against thousands. Now I can help. Musically that’s my strong point. I know how to take lyrics and create the emotion that makes a winning track. You’ve got the talent. It’s raw. Maybe a little rough around the edges.”
    “Rough?”
    “I’m just saying, with a little bit of work this could be a win-win situation.”
    “But Spike?”
    He exhaled hard.
    “He’ll understand. At least if he cares about you.”
    “I don’t think you know Spike.”
    “Well, the offer is there. I don’t think these things come along very often. I know I could use your help. I’m sure you could use mine.”
    It made sense. No one got a second shot at this kind of thing. I needed to go in with a song that was better than what had got their attention. I was writing but it wasn’t great. Spike was good at translating humming, but he was no Chase Bryan. This guy knew how to put out hit after hit.
    “OK, let’s do it.”
    He clapped his hands together.
    “Magic!”

Chapter 10
    T he afternoon soon gave way to a gorgeous evening. Deep oranges and reds spread out across the horizon. I had spent the better part of the day learning about Chase’s process of writing songs and how it differed from mine. It was odd to sit with someone who did it for a living, and to have them peppering me with questions, as if I was some sort of professional. I never really gave much thought to song writing. I hadn’t taken any classes. I never really got bogged down in the details of how it all came together. I simply showed up, pen in hand and attacked the paper with random thoughts. If words came, great, if not, I