Queen of Kings: A YA Rock Star Romance (Kings of Karmichael Book 3) by RH Tucker

Author:RH Tucker [Tucker, RH]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-03-16T04:00:00+00:00

Remember that feeling I had earlier? The notion that everything was going to be okay? Yeah, well, after texting Bret to meet me at the studio—five hours ago—most of the feelings of completion have dissipated. Now, all I’m feeling is a nauseated annoyance.

When I messaged him, he told me he’d be right over, but never showed up. I recorded a few more songs, worked out the hook on something I’ve been toying with, and actually started two brand-new tracks. It was easy. They aren’t easygoing or smooth, like what I’ve been working on. They’re angry and spiteful, and I broke five strings on the guitar trying to play them. That’s how annoyed I am with Bret right now.

I wanted to get this over with quickly. I figured that wouldn’t be a problem, seeing as how Bret’s been chomping at the bit to help me in the studio. And by help me, I know what he really means is try and record his own vocals, lyrics, and maybe bring in his drummer or guitarist and push me out.

Walking back into the mixing studio, I flip the record button off and take a seat in the chair. I pull out my phone, and see we’re going on six hours now. Grinding my teeth, I’m about to call him again when the studio door swings open. Of course Mitch, his guitarist, and Vic, his drummer, are in tow.

“Hey, babe,” Bret casually says, approaching me.

When I sent him the text message, I told him we needed to talk, but he didn’t reply with any questions. I’d expect him to be at least somewhat apologetic or cautious, especially after how things ended last night at the party, but he’s neither. He waltzes in, entirely at ease, as if everything is right in the world.

“Where have you been?” I ask, getting up from the chair.

Mitch and Vic ignore me, something I’m used to, and inspect the mixing studio. “Yeah, sorry about that,” Bret says. “We were talking to this manager at a club downtown. We might have a gig next week.”

“That took you six hours?”

He quirks an eyebrow. “You know how these things go. Well, plus we went and got some food, and then this girl Mitch knows wanted to talk about setting up a photoshoot with this photographer she’s friends with.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, sighing. “Of course you’d just blow me off until you’re ready.”

He scoffs. “What’s wrong? We’re here now. What’d you want to work on? Vic likes to work with his own drum kit, but we can—”

“Bret, we need to talk.”

He stares at me, and I can see the confusion on his face. “Okay. Look, I know I didn’t ask you about the guys, but that’s only because I figured it’d be okay. They don’t have to—”

“Bret,” I cut him off, “we need to talk. Alone.”

Nodding, he stares past me at Mitch and Vic. “Hey, give us a minute, guys.”

His bandmates leave the room, and he leans against the desk, staring at the floor.

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