Chapter 1
(Rebel)
There’s something about the night that carries with it a restless prickle of electric energy, like static, shimmying along my skin, every nerve ending on fire with need and longing. I should have been exhausted, but there was anonymity in darkness, in hoodies, in messy long hair, and in the corner spot at the end of the bar. From my perch in front of a nearly demolished plate of wings, it was easy to read the room without being part of it. Too bad the only thing it had to offer was mostly empty chairs and the hockey game I was currently engrossed in.
My phone blipped, and I flipped it over to reveal a dick pic from the only dick in my life who’d send me something like that on a Saturday night.
Grumbling, I text back, Not helping.
Say the word and I’ll be on the next plane, giving you all the help you need just as soon as I get there.
Motherfucker!
I did not need that offer tonight. It was too goddamn tempting. I’d have told him to get his ass here if getting him to go home wouldn’t take an act of Congress.
And my pissed-off band all fed up with his drunken shenanigans. Naa, Brandon Knightly was better off keeping his asswhere he was, though I knew at some point, the tour would take us close enough to his lair that he’d pay me a visit.
I both dreaded it and burned with need.
I’ll work it out,I text back, without having a single goddamned clue how to go about it.
What else was new? When it came to everything else in my life besides the music, shit quickly got complicated.
“Shocked you’re not asleep after that performance you guys put on tonight.”
The voice slithered up my spine like gravel, rough and jolting in a way that wasn’t exactly unpleasant, just unexpected and a tad uncomfortable. Sucking in a breath, I fixed my face before I glanced over my shoulder at Brekken Steel, one of almost a dozen bodyguards that traveled with my band, Blissfully Immune, and our sister band, Damaged Saints. Even off duty he wore black on black on gray and a shrewd look that might have been unnerving if I wasn’t addicted to trouble.
“There’s a problem with shows like that,” I muttered. “It’s next to impossible to shut down the adrenaline rush of being up there. I’m still too drunk off all those screaming voices to even think about closing my eyes right now. The ghost whispers get wild, man, especially alone in the dark.”
His lips pressed into a tight, firm line as he nodded his head. “I imagine it gets a bit intense.”
“It’s a hard high to come down from.”
“So, you decided to come down here and risk being mobbed if someone recognized you? Good plan.”
“No, I came down here because eating alone in my room sucks balls, and room service gets pretentious after a while,” I admitted. “It’s not much fun watching the game on my own either. Figured I’d celebrate the end surrounded by other cheering fans or piss them off cheering for the team that ended their team’s dreams.”
“Yeah? Which team is yours?”
“Come on, man, I’m from New Bedford. What team do you think I’m rooting for?”
A low, rough chuckle welled up from deep in his throat, warm and enticing, like his voice, which raised a crop of goosebumps along my arms. “Fair point. I still don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be down here.”
“Then it’s a good thing you’re not my keeper.”
“But Iama guard currently employed by the company hired to keep you safe, and right now I’m wondering where the hell yours is and how you got down here without an escort?”
“Oh, Imma have to plead the 5th on that one,” I replied, flashing him the same grin others had called swoon-worthy; too bad his only reaction was to cock an eyebrow at me. “Can’t go giving up my best tricks right off the bat.”
“Uh-huh. I will be reporting this. You know that, right?”
I just rolled my eyes and nodded. “Of course you will. Look, if you’re that hung up on me being down here, then it’s a simple fix. Come back upstairs with me and hang out. The highlight reels will be on right after the game, and I’m dying to see how the rest of the teams fared.”
“Didn’t realize you were that into the sport.”
“I played until I reached a point where I was being pulled between hockey and music.”
“How’d you choose?”