Rock the Heart by Michelle A. Valentine

step. 
    Noel’s long fingers find my hand and pull me against him. It takes us longer than five minutes to make it outside where a black SUV waits by the door. We’re quickly greeted by the large man I saw at the restaurant in New York as he holds the fans back. Noel opens the trunk and throws my bags in before ushering me inside the vehicle. 
    When the driver pulls the SUV away from the corner, Noel lets out a sigh of relief, and then pats my leg. His skin on mine is so warm and inviting, which is very dangerous. “Sorry about that. I should’ve had security come in with me, but I figured fans wouldn’t see me if I just ran in to get you.”
    I shove his hand off my bare thigh, and curse myself for wearing shorts. “It’s fine.”
    His eyes gaze into mine as he leans his head back against the headrest. “You made it through your first surprise fan attack. Think you can handle all this? My life isn’t exactly sane anymore.”
    The expression on his face is serious. He’s testing if I can put up with his new craziness and make it on this tour for two whole weeks. I inspect my arms under his stare. “I escaped your mob of female admirers without one scratch, so I think I’ll live.”
    Noel grins—clearly pleased with my answer—and leans in and kisses my cheek. “I’ve missed you.”
    Warmth spreads clear down to my toes. The things a simple kiss from this man can do to me are unreal. It should be against the law for someone to be so hot and sweet. It’s definitely an instant panty wetting combination.
    Damn it. I’m in trouble.
    “Kisses aren’t very professional, Noel.”
    He bursts out in laughter and pats my thigh again. “I kind of like this whole hard-to-get game. It’s going to make the sex that much better.”
    I remove his hand from me and shake my head. He isn’t going to give up.
    When we arrive at the Crew Stadium a few minutes later, my eyes widen at the number of people milling about at ten o’clock in the morning. “Why are they all here so early?”
    Noel instructs the driver to Black Falcon’s tour bus. “There are forty-four bands here total playing in two days. The first band plays at noon today. It’s one massive party for both the bands and the fans. There aren’t many events like this one.”
    The SUV pulls up along side the tour bus, and Noel hops out. I sit there frozen. Do I get out now? This is so not my element. 
    Noel waves at a couple tattooed guys I recognize from the gaggle of Black Falcon pictures I’ve seen. He walks around to the passenger side of the vehicle and opens my door. “Come on. I want you to meet some of the guys in the band.”
    I take Noel’s outstretched hand and allow him to help me out. Butterflies tumble around in my stomach. How could I be so nervous? I should have prepared myself more for meeting these guys. What if they totally hate the idea of me staying on the bus with them?
    We approach the two men—my hand still in Noel’s firm grasp. I try to pull away, but he tightens his hold. It’s apparent I’m not getting away from him. 
    The guy with jet black hair and a bandanna tied around his head looks up and elbows the blonde guy. They both grin as we approach.
    “You didn’t tell us she was unbelievably hot, Noel,” bandanna guy says.
    My eyes drop down to the ground, and I run my hand through my hair. I can’t believe he just called me hot. No guy has ever called me hot to my face before. Well, other than Noel, but we have history together. Most guys just refer to me as cute or pretty, but never hot. Are all rock stars so freaking forward?
    Noel punches the guy in the shoulder. “Don’t be a douche, Trip. Lane, this asshole is Trip Douglas, one of the best drummers in the business.”
     Trip shakes my hand and glances sideways at Noel with a cocky grin. “The best fucking drummer in the business.”
    The blonde guy beside Trip chuckles and looks at me. “Noel’s right. Trip is kind of an asshole. But, unfortunately, I’ve