Rockstar Romance: Julian (Contemporary New Adult Bad Boy Rock Star Romance) (Hard Rock Star Series Book 3) by Jade Allen Page A

stubbed the butt out on the ashtray or the arm of the chair I was sitting in. I knew Alex was right, but I didn’t want to do anything about it. I’d fucked things up with Fran—and it wasn’t just the situation with recording my stuff. It was about everything we’d been talking around but not about.
    I pulled my phone out again and found the files for some of the songs I’d recorded. If the band was on a break until two, that’d be enough time to at least lay down some basic stuff on a track. I stood up and left the live room for the control room, hoping that Les was still hanging out. He was. “Yo. Feel like laying a couple of parts down in a few?”
    “On one of your things? Sure.” Les nodded. “Shoot me the track and I’ll pull it up on the system.”
    “I’ll be right back.” I left the control room and headed down the hall to the lounge. I could only hope that Fran was still there, that she would hear me out. I shook my head, thinking to myself that I’d been an idiot more than once before—but I was definitely being an even bigger idiot now.
    “What do you want?” Fran had spotted me from the corner of the lounge where she sat as soon as I came in.
    “We’re up to record something,” I told her. Fran rolled her eyes; as usual—off stage, at least—she was in normal clothes, but her hair was brighter than usual.
    “Alex just came through to tell me you guys were on a break,” she said skeptically. “What are we up to record?”
    “One of my tracks,” I told her, smirking.
    “Seriously? You think that’s going to fix shit between us?” I took a deep breath and sighed.
    “I thought it would help,” I admitted. I came into the lounge further and sat down a few feet away from Fran. “I thought it might help more if I told you I’m an ass and should have made it clear that I actually want to date you.” Fran’s eyes widened and she stared at me for a long moment.
    “You’re serious about that?” I nodded.
    “I fuck things up in relationships,” I told her. “I guess I figured the longer we weren’t in an actual relationship, the longer it would be before I fucked it up—and as a result I fucked it up anyway.” I laughed. “I’m an advanced student of fucking up.”
    “I do the same thing,” Fran said, smiling wryly. “Okay so what are we going to do about this? And about the tabloids and all that other shit?” I shrugged.
    “We’re going to ride it out, as far as I’m concerned. People will get bored of it soon enough, right?”
    “What are you going to do when Molly Riot and Juniper Woolf are recording separate albums?”
    “Record an album with my band, and see you in my off hours, if you’ll let me,” I replied, smiling a bit again. “This doesn’t have to be complicated.”
    “It already is,” Fran told me. “You’ve made it complicated and so have I and so has the fucking industry—everyone’s goddamn guilty of it.” She sighed. “So what are we going to do?” I pressed my lips together.
    “Right now, if you’re willing to do it,” I said slowly, “we’re going to work on a song together. If that goes well, we’ll work on more.” I held my hands up, to try and keep Fran from saying anything else for a minute. “Alex…” I shrugged. “He doesn’t care if I work on my own material. Maybe the label will want to release it; maybe they won’t. But we can work on it, and see where that goes.”
    “And we’re going to work on your stuff as well as my stuff?” Fran raised an eyebrow.
    “Until we run out of each other’s stuff to work on and start working on stuff together,” I suggested. Fran smiled slowly.
    “Are you going to leave Palmela for me?” I snorted, rolling my eyes.
    “Sorry, babe, but Palmela is with me always. I won’t ask you to leave Angelo in the dust, if it makes you feel any better. Besides, we both have tours in the future.”
    “We’re really going to do this, then?” I thought about it for a second and then