Forbidden Billionaire Rockstar (Raising Havoc Bandmates #4)

9. Mallory

9

Mallory

My finger hovers over the ‘Post’ button, a mix of excitement and trepidation coursing through my veins. This social media campaign could make or break Sweet Surrender’s tour. I inhale deeply, preparing myself. Here goes everything.

Today is a new step in our marketing plan — social media.

I plan to get good pictures of the guys while they rehearse in the middle of their shows... It will be the perfect way to boost their popularity, for sure.

Thankfully, I haven’t given them a reason not to trust me, so earlier today, I got some candid photos of them as a group before capturing a few individual photos. I figured I would create a post with multiple photos, starting with an image of them together, and go down the line of the members.

With the images I took today, it’s hard to believe women won’t go wild for these guys.

When I step into the stadium for our next tour stop, everyone is already hanging around the space and talking in hushed voices with each other. Trevor is sitting on the arm of a couch, nodding at something Ledger says, and only when I clear my throat do I get all of their attention.

“Sleeping Beauty,” Trevor says cheerfully. “Nice of you to join us.”

Ledger grunts in response, then rises from his place and saunters over to a table that’s filled with snacks. He picks at them half-heartedly, surveying them, then shoves a brownie into his mouth. Hilary walks up to him, leaning close as she whispers something, and I dart my attention away from the two of them.

Clearly, there’s something going on there, but neither of them wants anyone to know — I’m not about to be the one who shouts whatever it is they’ve got going on.

“Are we on board for the social media post today?”

They each nod, and Trevor smiles. “It’s safe to say we trust you at this point, coach. You’ve done a great job with our following.”

“That’s great to hear,” I say softly.

Hearing and knowing the information are two different things. I may have known that their following has increased tremendously, but hearing that they are putting it on me is a relief and lets me know I’m doing my job just the way I was hired to. I’m proving my worth, and it’s exhilarating.

For a moment, I allow myself to bask in the glow of accomplishment. This is what I’ve been working towards, what I’ve sacrificed so much for. But the warmth is quickly chased by a familiar chill of doubt. How long before I mess it all up again?

“We’ll let you get to your work,” Trevor says, then nudges the other guys before jumping from his place on the couch. “We’ve got our own rehearsals once Raising Havoc is done, anyway.”

I nod, then sink into one of the leather chairs with a relieved sigh. It feels much better when I don’t have an audience to see what I’m doing.

The phone I’m holding is already on the images I took earlier and Sweet Surrenders socials are already logged into on the device. I find the add button, but heavy footsteps pull my attention and I find Jace stalking over to the snack table where Ledger just was.

My mouth falls open at the sight of him, his chest glistening through the cut-out sleeves of his shirt, and I find it harder to breathe. He turns, eyes locking onto mine, and a smirk tips at the corner of his mouth as he catches me staring at him. I should look away. I know this, but I find it impossible to bring myself to do so.

His hair is damp from the sweat pouring from his scalp, only making him that much hotter, and I tighten my hold on the phone in my hand. I have work to do. It’s crucial that I avoid messing this up, yet my gaze stays locked on his.

“Jace,” my brother says from behind the curtains. “We only have twenty more minutes to perfect this. You can eat when we are finished.”

Jace swallows what’s in his mouth, tosses the rest into the trash, and then struts past me with a wink before disappearing behind the curtain. Only when he’s out of sight can I breathe easier and turn my attention back to the task at hand.

When I look down at the phone, a message pops up on the screen asking if I’m sure I want to make a post, and I click yes. I must’ve done what I was supposed to without realizing it. As soon as it’s posted, I slip the phone into my pocket and calmly make my way over to the guys standing at the entrance to the stage.

“I’m going to take a few pictures once you guys start. Then, do you mind if I head back to the hotel?”

Trevor shakes his head. “Not at all.” He smirks and winks at me. “Make sure you get my good side, coach.”

I scoff and smile. “It’s hard to believe there’s a better side.”

His eyes lighten, and I silently curse at myself for being an idiot. I know he’s attracted to me. That much was apparent when I first started working with them, but I’ve done well with keeping it appropriate — that just went out the window, and I hadn’t even meant for it to happen.

Raising Havoc finishes the last of their song and they all gather their things before heading off stage, nodding to Sweet Surrender along the way. My guys head into their respective places while Jace eyes me curiously from a dark corner of the room with a snack in his hand. I ignore his stare, focusing more on Sweet Surrender, and take my phone out to snap a few pictures.

As I frame each shot, I can’t help but compare them to Raising Havoc. Sweet Surrender has talent, no doubt, but there’s something raw and magnetic about Jace and his bandmates. Something I’m trying desperately not to be pulled in by.

It’s only been a few minutes since I made their post, but there are already new comments on it that I can’t help but look at with a smile. I’m about to open my mouth and tell the guys to come look when my eyes widen at the screen before me.

My heart skips a beat as I scroll through the comments. The enthusiasm is palpable, but something feels off. I frown, scrolling back up to the post. And then I see it. My blood turns to ice in my veins.

This is not what I posted.

Panic claws at my throat as the full weight of my mistake crashes down on me. This isn't just a professional blunder - it's a betrayal of the trust Sweet Surrender placed in me.

The image of their disappointed faces flashes through my mind, followed quickly by the realization that this could be the end of everything I've worked so hard for. The irony isn't lost on me - I've spent so much time worrying about Jace being a distraction, and in the end, it was my own carelessness that might cost me everything.

I shake my head, tears stinging my eyes, and stumble away from the stage to disappear backstage. While music echoes through the stadium’s speakers, I tap my foot frantically on the floor and desperately hope that no one manages to screenshot the image that I posted before I delete it.

My fingers fly over the keyboard, desperately trying to contain the damage. Each passing second feels like an eternity, the weight of potential consequences pressing down on me.

Notifications keep popping up - more shares, more comments, more evidence of my monumental mistake spreading like wildfire across the internet. It's a race against time, and I'm terrified I've already lost.

How could this have happened?

Instead of the images of Sweet Surrender, it’s an image of me in a bikini and smiling brightly at the camera. It’s nothing provocative, but it’s definitely not the band that everyone on their page was hoping to get a look at. I curse under my breath, then carefully go into their account and delete the picture.

Maybe this is all okay.

“Uh, Mal?” Brent says behind me, phone in his hand as he holds it out to me. “What is this?”

I slowly close my eyes, praying that it’s something innocent, and grab the device with a smile that I’m sure he can tell is forced.

When I look at the screen, dread fills my stomach, and I groan loudly. “What the hell did I just do?”

Brent nods and sits next to me, his hand coming up to rest along my spine. “It’s fine, and I’m sure you’ll figure out what to do.”

“I already deleted the post, but I’m sure it’s all over the place already.”

“You got this, sis,” Brent says softly. “Maybe Julia will be able to help you out?”

“I’m not dragging her into this mess. It’s my problem to fix.” I hastily grab my purse sitting on the table in front of me, then look to the stage where the guys are rehearsing with a frown. “Can you please tell them I had to head out early, but tell them as little as possible… okay?”

Brent nods. “Sure, Mal, anything you need.”

I’ve got damage control to handle, and hopefully, before anyone realizes I’ve made a terrible mistake with the post. Unfortunately, I’m not that lucky and Hilary is already standing at the back exit with a glare pointed at me.

“Mallory,” Hilary says. “We should sit and talk.”

“I don’t have time right now, Hilary. I’ve got some things to take care of.”

She nods, not looking amused. “Right, like the inappropriate picture you posted on their social media accounts?”

“I’m handling it.”

“No, you’re not,” she hisses, then drags me over to the nearest wall and frowns. “I’ve got their team working overtime on it, seeing as it’s already going viral all over the internet.”

“Oh God,” I whisper, then shake my head. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I don’t know how it did. What do you need from me?”

“I just need you to get back to your room and hope that the band won’t demand to have you fired for such a callous mistake.”

“Right.”

Before she can say anything else, I’m hurrying out of the back door and jumping into the car she’s already got waiting for me. It pulls to a stop in front of the hotel a few minutes later, and I quickly slide out without a backward glance. There’s a man standing outside the entrance to the hotel, but I don’t pay him any mind as I hurry past him and through the large double doors.

I’m going to fix this.

I have to… my career depends on it.

Back in my hotel room, I throw myself into damage control mode. The rhythmic tapping of my fingers on the keyboard fills the room, punctuated by the occasional ping of a new notification. Each sound makes me flinch, a reminder of the growing crisis.

The air conditioning hums softly, a stark contrast to the heat of panic rising within me. Outside, the muffled sounds of the city serve as a jarring reminder of the world continuing on, oblivious to the career-threatening disaster unfolding within these four walls.

***

A few hours later, there’s a knock on my door, and I reluctantly push away from the table I’ve been working at answering. Jace is standing in the hallway, holding a paper bag with grease filling the bottom, and he smiles brightly at me. “Brought some fuel. I’m sure you need it.”

I roll my eyes and pull him into the room, suddenly realizing that with everything going on, I haven’t eaten anything today. My stomach growls in response and I snatch the paper bag from Jace’s hands, then lead him over to the table filled with papers.

Jace's presence is both a comfort and a complication. His concern is evident in the way he watches me, in the gentle tone of his voice. But it's also a reminder of why I'm in this mess in the first place. I'm drawn to him, knowing full well I might get burned. The conflict between my heart and my professional responsibilities has never felt more stark.

“Sorry,” I mutter while swiping them into a pile. “Wasn’t expecting company.”

Jace is silent while I make another home for the papers on my bed, and I glance at him. He’s looking at me with a frown on his face. “What is it?”

He shakes his head and sinks into one of the empty chairs. “Everything okay with you?”

How do I tell the guy sitting in front of me that nothing is okay because I can’t stop focusing on him more than my job?

I guess I could just outright tell him, but wouldn’t that make me seem crazy?

“Everything is fine,” I mumble. “What’s with the surprise visit?”

He shrugs. “Just thought you could use the company. You sure everything is okay?”

Maybe I could tell him a sliver of the truth. “I’m distracted, that’s all. It will get better.” I hope.

“Do you need me to do anything?”

I shake my head and frown. “This is my mess, not yours. Food is plenty of help.”

He sits there for a moment, staring at me, searching for the truth in my stare, and for whatever reason, I open my mouth to spill it to him.

“Actually, you’re right… things aren’t okay.” Jace leans back in the chair, not making a sound, and I take a deep breath. “You’re a distraction for me,” I blurt out, immediately wishing I could snatch the words back.

Jace’s eyebrows shoot up. “Me?” His voice is a mixture of surprise and something else. Hope?

“Seems that way.” I try for nonchalance, but my racing heart betrays me.

He leans forward, his eyes searching mine. “And is that such a bad thing?”

The question hangs in the air between us, loaded with possibilities that I’m not sure I’m ready to face.

Before I can respond, my phone buzzes. It’s Hilary. I look up at Jace, my heart in my throat.

Whatever’s coming, I have a feeling it’s going to change everything