Good Girls Don't Date Rock Stars(6)

“Hey again,” she’d said as he’d approached her.

“Hey yourself. I hear you’re the girl to see if you need some help in English,” he said, coming around the table to sit next to her.

When they’d finished, he’d signed up again, and the more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to be near her. Still, he knew he wasn’t the right guy for her, not as a boyfriend, anyway. He was a mess of teenage hormones and other, deeper issues, but Gemma’s twinkling eyes made him forget about the past. She made him feel like maybe he wasn’t completely broken.

When he finally asked her to his first gig, she’d shown up with her best friend, Gracie McAllister. Gracie was a petite blonde with a big personality, and he’d liked her boisterousness, especially when he introduced Gracie to Mike and the two of them started sparring verbally. He’d come off the stage after his set and Gemma had given him a bear hug tight enough to crack a couple of ribs.

“That was amazing, Trav!”

Trav. No one had ever given him a nickname before.

After that night, the four of them had become a close-knit group, and for the first time in his life, Travis knew what it was like to have good friends. But the really special times were when it was just Gemma and him, when he told her things he’d never said to another person, or she read his mood without him having to say anything. She was the best friend he’d ever had, and he’d tried to resist messing it up, tried not to feel anything else for her, but it was inevitable.

He was meant to love Gemma Carlson.

Over a year and a half of friendship later, it took being dumped before prom to help him get over his reservations and ask Gemma out. Throughout the night, he hadn’t been able to look away from her, finding himself making excuses to touch her hand and dancing as much as possible, just to hold her against him. It was during Lonestar’s “Amazed” that he’d looked into those gorgeous eyes and dipped his head to kiss her. It had been like getting caught in an electric storm: shocks flew through him every time their lips touched. They hadn’t stopped kissing, even after the song changed.

For four months they’d been blissfully happy, talking about their future together and their dreams, all the way until he’d been signed to Off Road Records and left on tour. He’d told her it didn’t matter how far away he was, his heart was with her, and it seemed like she’d believed him.

And then Phoenix had happened.

As Travis exited the elevator, he was brought back to the here and now. For some reason, fate had brought Gemma back to him, and he was going to do everything he could to make her forgive him. When she’d left him, he’d been hurt and angry. He knew his past relationships weren’t the stuff of fairy tales, but with Gemma it had been different. He’d loved her. He would never have hurt her.

If only she’d believed that, where would they be?

No use going over the might-have-beens. Concentrate on now.

He stood in front of Gemma’s door and rolled his shoulders back before knocking.


Gemma answered a few seconds later, wearing a simple blue top and a denim skirt. The neckline of her shirt dipped into a v, and he had a hard time not looking at the generous view of her breasts. His mouth kicked up into a smile when he thought about all the times he’d had his hands on them. If Gemma only knew the direction his mind had taken, she’d slam the door in his face. Again.

“You look great,” he said, holding out his arm to her. “Shall we?”

Her cheeks turned pink and she said, “Thank you.”

He was a little disappointed when she didn’t take his arm, but he tried to take it in stride.

Patience, Bowers. It’s been ten years. It’s gonna take longer than ten minutes to regain her trust.

“How far is this place?” Gemma asked, changing the subject as she shut the door of her room.

“Just a few casinos down.” Travis kept pace with her down the hallway to the elevator, pressing the button as he studied her. She’d taken off her glasses, so she must be wearing contacts, and her slim, pert nose had him itching to lean over and kiss it, like he’d done a thousand times before. It was hard to remember that he no longer had the right to touch Gemma freely, to hold her hand and kiss the back of her neck in that place that used to make her shiver in his arms. God, just thinking about the way she’d looked when he’d kiss and touch her, his mouth skimming the skin of her thigh. Her lips would part, her eyes barely opened as she’d wiggle under his kiss and hands . . .

When the door opened, he tried to discreetly adjust the ache of his erection. He was here to make amends, not fantasize about a woman who could barely stand his presence. He followed her in, catching a whiff of sweet vanilla and some kind of fruit, the scent doing nothing to abate his desire. Another thing that hadn’t changed about her, and it was comforting. As the elevator whizzed down, Travis inched closer to her until his arm brushed hers. He could tell by the way she held her shoulders that she was tense and nervous, and he almost reached out to rub them but had a feeling she wouldn’t welcome the gesture.

The doors opened, and Travis felt Gemma jerk beside him when several people pulled out camera phones, clicking pictures as they passed. Travis smiled at them and tried to get the door for Gemma, who had her head bent down, trying to conceal her face with her thick veil of hair, but the doorman beat him to it.