I'm With The Band: Meet Me Halfway by Corri Lee

Author:Corri Lee
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: psychological, raunchy romance, humor adult, musical fiction

I'm pulled back into my dream of CJ's lips on mine, kissing me furiously, his hands in my hair. "Please don't leave me." I can taste his tears on his skin and his desperation in his sweat. "Please, please, please don't leave me." His voice echoes on and on and on...

"Amelia, please don’t leave us. Come and perform tonight." My eyes wrench open to Plato, Erek, Meredith and Levi huddled around me. "Please don't quit the band. At least finish the tour."

I look down at my bare left hand and feel my eyes well up with hot burning tears. "CJ." Being bombarded immediately on waking has caught me with my pants down and my brain isn’t conscious enough to hone in on delenda.

"He's downstairs, honey bee. He won't leave without you. He's got the bruises to show for it." Bruises? Oh for god’s sake, who’s lamped him? I throw the covers back and slouch downstairs with a pounding tension headache, like I haven't slept for days.

I roll my eyes and sit down opposite Andy and CJ, who wear equally grim expressions of remorse and contrition. I’m in no mood to absolve anyone’s self-pity. "Make it quick."

CJ stares at me, clearly bewildered by my apathy and looks down at his hands. His shirt is torn slightly and there’s a hint of a bruise forming on his jaw. I dread to think where the others are. "I love you, Amelia."

"I know." I lean my chin on my hand and stare out of the window. "But this isn't me. I got swept up in the moment and got carried away. You know my rules--I don't do boyfriends or groupies."

"So do fiancés. Andy, give me the box."

"Dude, I don't think--”

"Give me the fucking box." Andy shakes his head in disbelief and digs into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small, round, red ring box. Yeah, I’m right there with you, mate. If that holds what I suspect, it is a terrible idea.

"I hope you know what you're doing."

CJ glares at him fiercely and turns the box towards me. "Open it." I reach for it with a disapproving groan, and his hand shoots out and grabs mine. A wave of unexpected emotion courses through me--it’s obviously harder to turn off love than it is to turn off hate. "I was saving this for your birthday, but you have to know how serious I am about you. I don't care who you are, who else comes along, or how many times you try and send me away. I'm going nowhere."

"Stalker," I quip as I flip open the box and I'm confronted by the most magnificent ring; a large black diamond set into shining platinum with smaller glittering diamonds around the band. "Holy shit." There really is no better reaction. It's beautiful, the sort of thing you'd find on a millionaire's wife at some billion dollar dinner party with fashion industry bigwigs and rich, tight-assed bastards on the Forbes list. Not on a scruffy rockstar.

He removes it from the box and points at a familiar engraving: Step into the darkness with me, meet me halfway.

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