Rock All Night

78




I woke up the next morning feeling like someone was taking a baseball bat to the inside of my skull. My stomach was doing slow, nauseating somersaults, my body was bruised from our sexual rampage the night before, and my lady parts were tender and sore.

I felt like slipping back into unconsciousness for another week. Maybe two.

I propped myself up on one elbow and surveyed the wreckage.

Damn we’d broken a lot of hotel property.

The only reason I dragged my ass out of bed was that I had promised Shanna I would see her off before her early flight back to New York. So I left behind a gorgeous, naked, sleeping man and got into the shower, hoping that the hot water would wash away my alcohol poisoning.

Nope.

I got dressed, put on minimal makeup, and watched my boyfriend as he slept. He was lying on his front, and the covers were draped halfway off his sculpted ass.

What a view… I just wanted to reach out and touch it…

But obligations called. And if I woke him up by fondling his butt, there was a good chance I might not make it down to breakfast.

Not to mention my head, stomach, and naughty bits might not be able to take another round right now.

I reached the hotel restaurant at about half past nine. Shanna was sitting by the window, already looking put-together and mostly recovered. As I recalled from college, she had that gift. On the other hand, she also had lots of practice.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” she said cheerily as I slumped into the chair opposite her. She touched the massive Bloody Mary next to her plate and asked, “Want a little sumpin’-sumpin’?”

“God, no,” I said, my stomach threatening to leap out of my throat at the thought.

“Best remedy for a hangover ever. Well, no, that’s not true. Best way to never get a hangover is never stop being drunk.”

“Is that your secret?”

“Hell yeah, bitch. Always has been. I’m ridin’ the buzz I woke up with all the way back to New York. Sooooooo… what did you do last night? I know who you did, I’m just curious about the details.”

“Wrecked a hotel room,” I said, and couldn’t help but grin.

“Reeeeeaaaally.” She leaned forward eagerly. “I’m assuming we’re talking a lot of extreme sports sex, and not some kind of wall-punching rock star freakout.”

“No. I mean, yes – the former, not the latter.”

“I’m so jealous…” she sighed, then got a mischievous look on her face. “Last night was just like old times: I wind up passed out, and you end up with the hot rocker.”

“Hey, that was your own fault,” I said as I sipped a glass of ice water.

“What, you ending up with the hot rocker?”

“No, you passing out. Why didn’t you try to sleep with Ryan?”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. Are you seriously going to go there?”

“What, he’s not good enough for you?” I asked, a little offended on Ryan’s behalf.

“No, he’s hella fine. But he seems to be carrying a certain torch for someone who shall remain nameless hack hack Kaitlyn,” she coughed into her fist.

My already overwrought stomach was doing triple cartwheels now. “No – that’s – unh-unh – ”

“Oh please. He’s so into you, I couldn’t have won him over if I’d been offering free blowjobs and lollipops. Which I was. And it still didn’t work.”

I squinted. “…what does that even mean?”

“It means – f*ck what it means. The point is, you’re hogging all the men, Kaitlyn.”

“I am not.”

“Okay, the hot, rich, rock star ones, then.”

“I am not.”

“Okay, just the lead singer and the bassist of Bigger, then.”

“I am NOT!”

“Whatever, Ms. ‘De Nile Ain’t Just A River In Egypt.’”

“Can we talk about something else?” I fumed.

“Okay… how’s the article coming?”

I groaned. “Next topic.”

She waved her hand. “I get it, I get it – you’re too busy ‘researching’ right now. You can write it when you get home. When are you headed back?”

Again, my stomach started roiling – but for a different reason this time. “I… don’t know.”

“Well, you can’t stay in Never-Never Land forever, Tinkerbell.”

My immediate reaction – from the depths of my subconscious – was, Why not?

But I didn’t say anything.

She frowned at my silence. “Kaitlyn… you’re going to have to come back to real life sooner or later.”

“I know,” I grumbled.

She continued offhandedly as she took a bite of French toast, “And he’s going to go back to his.”

“What does that mean?”

She gave me a You’re an idiot look. “Seriously?”

“Yes.”

She doubled down on the look. “You really need me to f*ckin’ spell it out?”

Now my hackles were up. “Yeah. F*ckin’ spell it out for me.”

“He’s a rock star, honey. And a scorchin’ hot one, at that. You’ll go home, back to your life, and write a great article… and he’ll go back on tour, singing to throngs of adoring models and groupies every night… and… doing what rock stars do with models and groupies.”

She edited the end of that sentence out of deference to me. She must have seen the pain on my face.

“I’m not saying you guys won’t hook up every once in awhile and have an incredible weekend,” she continued in an effort to soothe me. “I’m not saying he won’t fly you out to the occasional show, and you won’t still have mind-blowing sex and a lot of fun and – ”

“You’re wrong,” I said, my voice low and angry.

“What, you won’t have mind-blowing sex and a lot of fun?”

“It could work,” I insisted.

“What could work?”

“A… a relationship.”

“Yeah, if you’re all three of those ‘See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil’ monkeys rolled into one,” she snorted. “Although I guess it’d be more like ‘See No Sexin’, Hear No Sexin’, Speak No Sexin’.”


When I didn’t hit her with a comeback, she stared at me for a moment – then looked around like she was searching for a hidden camera. “Wait a second, am I being punked? Are you the same Kaitlyn Reynolds who almost didn’t come out here because Derek Kane is a man-whore who uses women by the dozen – excuse me, the hundreds?”

I bristled. “I was afraid about crossing a line – as a journalist. And about everything I might have lost when I walked away from him in college. And if I did sleep with him, maybe I’d built it up too much over the years and it would never match up to reality – ”

She rolled her hand in the air like Come on, keep going. “…aaaand I seem to recall something in there about him sleeping with lots of other chicks.”

“I was wrong.”

“What, that he slept with lots of other chicks? And that he’ll continue to sleep with other chicks? No, I don’t think you were wrong about that one.”

I gritted my teeth and didn’t say anything.

She sighed again and reached out across the table to touch my hands.

I pulled my fingers back as though her touch had scorched me.

“Kaitlyn,” she said in a kind but tired voice, “I would love nothing more for you than for Derek to fall completely in love and give you everything you want, which I assume is a big-ass rock on your finger and him never looking at another woman’s ass till death do you part. But honey… you’re not looking at this realistically – ”

“He said I was his girlfriend,” I blurted out.

That stopped her.

For a second.

She raised one eyebrow. “…really.”

“Yes.”

“He said the actual word ‘girlfriend’? About you?”

“Yes,” I snapped. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“No, no, I just… did he use the ‘L’ word?”

I froze. The fact that he hadn’t yet… bothered me.

“…no.”

“Were you guys arguing at the time, maybe?”

I didn’t say anything.

She narrowed her eyes, seeing she had hit pay dirt. “And was anybody naked at the time, or did a certain someone want to get naked, and the other someone didn’t?”

My memories of that night were scrambled and hard to pin down… but more than anything, I remembered the trancelike sex and the many, many orgasms.

I looked down at the table in silence.

“Kaitlyn… I’m not saying he didn’t mean it… but you know his past. Do you really think he’s going to change his spots just because of you?”

I glared at her – mostly because she was voicing every insecurity I had. “You’re saying it’s impossible?”

“No, I’m not – well, yeah, sort of. Guys like Derek Kane don’t change everything about themselves like that. They might say it, and they might mean it, and they might actually follow through for awhile… but… in the end… Derek’s Derek. He is who he is.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means he’s a player.”

“So what does that make me?”

“A f*ckin’ pendulum. You swung from one extreme of ‘No no no no no’ to the other extreme of marriage and houses and 2.5 kids – ”

“I’m not thinking about those things,” I hissed.

“Okay, then, you’re just thinking you’ll be the long-distance girlfriend of a guy who’s slept with way more people than I have, which is saying something. And you think he’ll be loyal, and faithful, and never ever step out with one of the supermodels on the Sports Illustrated bathing suit cover who’s throwing herself at – ”

“You were the one who said I should come here and sleep with him,” I interrupted.

“Yeah – sleep with. Have a good time. Get your rocks off. Not fall head over heels in love and expect a future full of roses and ponies.”

“So what are you saying I should do?” I asked coldly.

She shrugged. “Enjoy the ride. Enjoy the hell out of it.”

“And then?”

“And then… come back to reality, babe. ‘Cause wherever your head is right now, reality ain’t it.”