Gauge: Rockstar Romance (The ProVokaTiv Series Book 1) by Cara Nelson Read Free Book Online Page B

teardrop earrings that were playfully dangling from my earlobes. I felt pretty sexy and ready to take on the club. There was no dive bar in my future tonight.
    “Thanks. You look great, too.” Gauge had on a powder blue silk t-shirt, a black sports jacket, and a pair of jeans that were slightly baggy, but scrumptious on his chiseled body.
    We walked into the club and I felt like Frankenstein’s monster coming alive when Gauge put his hand on my lower back. It sent a charge through me, just like lightning.
    “This place is fabulous,” I said, looking around with appreciation. It had the usual dark ambiance that most clubs have, but the way the neon blue accented everything gave it an eerie, funky glow like a full moon reflecting on a river. I was in awe of it.
    “It’s decent,” Gauge said. “What do you want to drink?”
    I wanted a beer. He went with a Hennessy and 7. We walked around and quite a few people came up to Gauge to introduce themselves and ask for a picture with him. The women snuggled in and purred like playful kitties, hoping to get some more attention. The guys tended to try and match him in their attitudes and demeanors. I wasn’t sure why everyone would want to appear brooding, but when you were famous, those things seemed cooler. If Gauge hadn’t been a musician, people would have thought he was more of petulant child, I suspected.
    Then there was me. I was an instant amateur photographer. No one wanted a picture with me. They were staring at me from afar, wondering if I was a somebody or a nobody.
    Next in line for their brush with Gauge was the club management. They all knew Gauge, and I noticed that they made it seem like they knew him on a more personal level than just a VIP level. I was curious.
    “You said you played here before, right?”
    “Yeah. It was right after our first single was released.”
    “For a quiet guy, it seems like you’re friends with all the management here.”
    “I hung out here for a while a few years back.”
    “Why?”
    “Had a girlfriend.”
    I froze, somehow feeling like a piece of secondhand trash when he said that. It was ridiculous, of course, as I wasn’t his girlfriend and we weren’t even on a date—maybe. Pictures of all these guys who take every girl they meet to the same places and do the same thing swirled through my mind. It made me think of that Cheryl Lloyd song : remember all the things that you and I did first, and now you’re doing them with her . I was the ‘her.’ That was fucked up.
    “Which one was that?” I asked, trying to keep it lighthearted.
    “Gretchen,” he said. There was no spark of longing or missing her in his eyes, and I quickly realized that I was on the verge of being pathetic. That wasn’t going to happen. Not tonight, with my great outfit and with Gauge.
    “Is it hard to be here?”
    Gauge looked at me and cocked his head. It was a habit he did often. I noticed that he did that whenever he was trying to articulate a response in a certain way. “No, it’s not hard. Shit happens.”
    “Just wanted to make sure.”
    “Why would I have taken you here and act like an emotionally messed-up guy?”
    “Good point. But…do you mind me asking what happened?”
    “No,” he said.
    “Will you tell me?”
    “The short version. She was messing around with a friend and we broke up.”
    “You’re kidding? That sucks. Who?”
    “Hunter?”
    “Hunter,” I repeated, hoping I’d heard wrong. “Ouch!”
    “It was.”
    “Weren’t you pissed?”
    “Of course, but it’s the past.”
    I thought of my interview with Hunter and the part about him being a lead singer, cutting a track, and knew that there was a strong force below the surface on each of them that could erupt at any moment.
    “Let’s dance,” Gauge said. Clearly the subject was over and off the table. His words were an order, not a request. While I might typically rebel against someone bossing me around and telling me what to do, I didn’t mind going