Rockstar 04 Interlude(28)

"Did you feel this way when I left Sunday?"

I nod.

"Is that why you were so quiet?"

I nod again.

She sighs. "You should have said something."

I wish I had. I wish it was that easy for me. "I should have, but I  couldn't risk you not feeling the same or not being ready for something  more. I didn't want to ruin the perfect weekend we had."

"I have a request."

"Okay."

"From now on, no matter the consequences, if we have something important  we want or need to talk about, we just do it. Get it out there. Knowing  we've made this deal will allow for understanding on both our parts."

"I think that's a great idea. What are you thinking right now?"

She smiles and shakes her head. "I can't believe this. You're you and  I'm in your room for the unforeseeable future. I think someone's drugged  you or something because this can't be real."

"It's real. We're real," I say seriously. This is more real than anything else has ever been in my life.

She nods.

"We'll handle the press, get it out there that Blush is alive and  kicking, introduce everyone, and I'll stand next to you holding your  hand the entire time. And when you're done talking about Blush, I'll  pull you close, just like this," I say as I pull her closer, looking  down at her. "And I'll dip my head like this," I whisper against her  lips. "Then I'll lift you up like this so no one misses the camera shot,  you can wrap your legs around me just like that, and I'll kiss you just  like this."

The kiss starts off with soft lips brushing against one another, then mouths opening and tongues coming together.

Her fingers thread through my hair and I squeeze her ass. She moans when  I dip a finger between her legs and run it up along the seam of her  jeans.

"Mmm," I say, pulling back. "Well, maybe I won't kiss you just like that."

She laughs and pulls me back in for a kiss as I carry her to our bed.

I pull back, looking her straight in the eyes.

"Jesse Kingston's falling down … " I sing to the tune of London Bridge.

"Lucy Russo's falling down with a blush," she sings back.

We both smile, then get wild between the sheets.





Chapter Twenty





Jesse


Past





As Lucy walks off the stage at the Hard Rock in Las Vegas, I pick her up and swing her around. "That fucking rocked."

"Hell yeah," Xander says and fist bumps us all.

"I've got to say, I'm looking forward to the larger venues now. That was so much fun," Lucy says, her excitement palpable.

I nod. "You say that now, but the minute you set foot in the venue or do  sound check, you're going to want to puke. Once you go on for real,  you'll calm down fast just like tonight."

She nods. "We really did okay?"

"Jesus, Lucy," Cage says. "If you did any better, they'd have had a riot in here."

"I'd hug you, but I don't want to get your pretty suit full of my sweat," she tells him.

"To hell with the suit," he says, and pulls her in for a hug. "You do me proud," he whispers in her ear. She does me proud too.

"You can't know what that means to me," she tells him.

"I do know. You deserve this. Two weeks until the tour. Practices and PR  every day until then, except for tomorrow due to travel," he tells us  all. We nod our agreement.

"All right, boys and girls," Xander shouts. "Let's go party!"

Lucy laughs. "Shower then party."         

     



 





We walk down the strip, drinking, gambling, and being outrageously  obnoxious. Amazingly, me and the guys only get recognized a couple  times.

We're all so hammered, stumbling around laughing. Around two in the  morning Lucy gets the brilliant idea to scour the entire city of Las  Vegas to find the real Elvis, because everybody knows Elvis isn't dead.  When Xander jumps on the bandwagon, there's no stopping them.





"Oh my God. Jesse!" Lucy screeches, shaking me so hard I feel like I could throw up. Shit, didn't we just get to bed?

"Jesse, get up!"

"Wha?" I groan, my eyes still closed as I lift my head off the pillow.

"Wake up! You …  Me …  We …  Oh my God!" she screeches again and son of a bitch that is piercing my brain.

"Stop screaming, Luce. What's going on?" I ask, scratching my chest. I  look over at her and pause. Her eyes are wide and she looks freaked out.

"What is it?"

"Unh," is all she says and I know it's something huge.

"Luce, why are you 'unh'ing?"

"Married," she whispers.

I pause, frozen.

"What?" I ask, a little freaked out myself.

"Left hand. Ring. Married," she whispers.

I look at my left hand and freeze again. What the fuck? I bolt upright and reach for her left hand.

"How did you get that? That was in my … " pocket, I think, as flashbacks  of Lucy and I saying our vows flash through my mind. Fuck me.

"Tell me. What … "

"Unh," I say and she starts to panic.

"That about sums it up. Do you remember what happened?" she asks, taking a deep calming breath.

"Parts of it. It's coming to me slowly. How much do you remember?" I ask cautiously.

"Nothing after chasing fat Elvis through Caesar's Palace."

I laugh at the memory. "That was fucking awesome."

She shrugs. "I only wanted to search him for drugs. It's not a good way  to die, overdosing on the toilet for the world to make fun of."

I snort then moan. My fucking head is pounding like someone's got a  jackhammer going in my brain. "God, I think we drank bottle upon bottle  of liquor last night."

"Tell me about it. Why are we wearing wedding rings, Jesse?"

"Uh," I say, rubbing the back of my neck, not sure how to do this. Is  this one of those rip-the-band-aid-off moments? Or is it one of those  peel-it-off-slowly moments? I've never been good at this shit. "We hit a  couple more hotels and casinos looking for your Elvis and then we found  a skinny Elvis. You insisted on telling him all about his fate. We  headed to breakfast at Denny's."

"All of us, or just me and you?"

"All of us. When we got there you were so serious telling Elvis his  fate. He was so grateful he asked if he could officiate our wedding."

She groans. "I don't remember any of this."

Damn.

"Anyway, Elvis got permission from someone at Denny's to officiate our  ceremony there. Apparently Denny's in Las Vegas also has a 24-hour  wedding chapel."

"Huh. I guess that's convenient. Drunk people going for breakfast to  sober up but don't quite get there before they decide to get married,"  she laughs.

I laugh with her, relieved at her reaction. "God, Lucy. I thought for sure you were going to be pissed off."

"I'm not pissed. Shocked, stunned, freaking out a little bit, but not pissed."

"Yeah. I was so fucked up I'm surprised I remember any of it. We laughed  through the whole thing. You licked skinny Elvis's cheek."

"What the hell?"

I shrug. "Who knows. We were hammered."

"Hammered doesn't begin to describe it."

"Fucking skinny Elvis was a riot."

"Where did you get this gorgeous ring?"

"Ah, that ring I've had for a while now."

"What?" she whispers.

Fuck it. I'll tell her it all. Might as well, seeing as she's my wife. Holy fuck.

"Yeah, I got the ring because I knew I wanted to ask you to marry  me-eventually-and if I had the ring handy and inspiration struck, well, I  could ask you."

"Why didn't you ask me?"

"Would you have said yes?"

She hesitates, thinking. "I think I would have. We'd have had to talk  about a lot of things and I think I'd have wanted to have a little  longer of an engagement, at least through the tour." She groans again.  "Oh God. The tour. The media. Shit. Cage."

"Yeah, about Cage. He was there."

"Seriously?"

I nod and grin. "He was all for it. He kept shouting 'True love prevails'. Then he and Xander would fist bump."

"Wow. Cage Nichols?"

I nod again and grin. "Hammered. He was hilarious."

"I think I remember a little bit of that. Wow. Where did the wedding bands come from?"         

     



 

"Elvis knew a jeweler down the street who opened for us to pick out bands."

"Skinny Elvis or fat Elvis?"

"Skinny Elvis. You freaked out fat Elvis so bad I thought he was going to get a restraining order."

"Oh come on. It wasn't that bad."

"Luce, you tackled him."

She runs a finger along her rings. "Well, he ran away and I didn't tackle him hard."

I laugh, I can't help it. The memory of Lucy flying through the air and landing on top of fat Elvis is fucking classic.

"Anyway, the jeweler came in very handy. At least I helped pick out wedding bands. I remember that part," she says.

"You did."

"I can't believe we got married-drunk married in Vegas with skinny Elvis at Denny's."