Southern Rocker Boy (Southern Rockers Book 1) by Ginger Voight Read Free Book Online Page B

Gaynell were going toe-to-toe over wardrobe. Gaynell wanted her in a leather mini-skirt. Lacy wasn’t having it.
    “Those assholes are going to try and see up my skirt,” Lacy said.
    “Yep,” Gaynell agreed. Lacy was floored. “And Jonah will stand as a barrier between. The more appealing we make you, and the less accessible, the better for your brand.”
    “My brand ?” Lacy sneered. “What am I? A set of tires?”
    “You are a product, baby girl,” Gaynell told her. “The sooner you accept that, the happier you’ll be.”
    “Fuck that,” Lacy responded hotly. “I’m not wearing it. Period. It’s not me.”
    “It’s not supposed to be,” Gaynell said. “I think you’ll find, the more famous you get, it’s not a bad idea to have a disguise. This,” she said, referring to the stage, “is completely different than your real life. It has to be.”
    “I won’t let anyone get to you,” I promised as I made my presence known. Gaynell smiled for the backup, but Lacy very nearly growled as she stared at me. “No one will see a thing. I promise.”
    “No one but you, I guess,” she snarled.
    “I’d have to be interested enough to look, darlin’,” I told her with my own cock-eyed grin. That took a little wind from her sails. She grabbed the skirt and headed backstage. When she emerged again, she was wearing thigh-high boots, the leather skirt, a red top with spaghetti straps showing off all her tattoos, and a studded Fedora. She looked amazing. I couldn’t stop staring even if I wanted to.
    She strutted past me. “You might want to roll your tongue back in your mouth, Mr. Disinterested,” she said.
    My job that evening was to help form a line between the stage and the crowd with three other bouncers. I stood center-stage, where Lacy would presumably perform, and the whole vibe gave the crowd the impression that Lacy was someone important, rather than some underpaid placeholder for the headliner that night, which just happened to be a band from England, who had just hit the Top 40 list in the states.
    The crowd was just as rowdy as the night before. I came face-to-face with several drunks in the crowd who wanted to get a look up Lacy’s skirt. Most backed off when I raised my hand. Some had to be physically held back, especially when she launched into a Pink anthem that basically promised every single one of them only had their hand to look forward to that night.
    I had to keep my back to her throughout her act, which sucked. I could tell from the faces in the crowd she was killing it. I would have loved to have watched the show. But I had a job to do and I was determined to do it. After she left the stage, I headed backstage. I was to escort her out of the club while the second band was performing.
    It gave me a little downtime, which I planned to use getting a little closer to Lacy. When I got backstage, however, the shirtless lead singer of the English band was hovering over her, trying his level best to charm her. “You really have something, love,” he said as he leered down at her. “Go on the road with us and I guarantee it will launch your career.”
    She smirked. “I’ve heard that before.”
    “Nah,” he said as he stroked her arm, despite the fact she tried to inch away from him. “Come back to my suite tonight. Five star hotel, imported champagne. You’ll see that I’m like no one you’ve ever met.”
    “I’ve heard that, too,” she said as she spun away from him, right into my chest.
    “Need some help?” I asked, glaring over her shoulder at the pseudo sex god behind her.
    “No, mate,” he said as he tried to step between us. “We’re good.”
    She sidestepped him. “I need to change.”
    “Nah, baby, you’re fine just the way you are,” he said as he tried to run his finger along her hip.
    “The lady said no, mate ,” I told him. He glared at me like I was some peon, which, of course, I was. “Come on, Lacy,” I said and she gratefully