Accidental Rock Star (14 page)

Tyler played with the
sensitive skin at the back of her knees, drawing music notes. “Get
grounded. For me.”

Tempting. Damn. She
looked at the clock again. Excuses for her parents ran through her
brain. But after the cab incident, they’d expect her home. And it
was late. Really late.

She licked her
lips.

Tyler groaned again and
traced his hand up to just above her knee.

Gah. Her thoughts
couldn’t form a proper word to express that. His fingers on her
skin made her crazy. Her gaze went to the clock again: 1:45 a.m.
Saturday. Saturday. The talent show. If they got home after two,
she’d get grounded and miss the talent show tonight, the first gig
for When Worlds Appear. She debated it and drew her legs off Tyler.
She tried to tell him her reasons in a sophisticated, rational way.
But it kind of came out, “Tonight. Talent Show. Can’t go out with
you tomorrow night if grounded.”

Tyler mumbled something
and leaned over the console and kissed her. Time, date, commitments
flew away. He withdrew.

The engine rumbled on
along with the radio.

Tyler slid her seatbelt
over her, clicking it into place. She relished the quick brush of
his fingers, but sat passively. The truck rolled into motion, and
she opened her eyes.

Headlights lit up the
road, dirt, leaves, asphalt, and highway.

Home.

The lights were on.
Tyler walked her to the door, pulled her flush against him, and
kissed her; hot, open-mouthed, enthralling.

The lights flashed.
Aria pulled away. “That’s my parents’ signal to go inside.” Her
voice came out hushed. She pressed a finger to his lips. “And I
want to watch you lip-sync tomorrow night.”

Tyler kissed her finger
and ran his tongue up to the tip. “Sweet dreams, Aria.”

Her mouth dropped
open.

He chuckled.

Aria sank her teeth
into her bottom lip. Her mouth was swollen and sore from his
awesome kisses, and she let the sharp bite pull her away. “’Night,
Tyler.”

Backstage felt almost
the same. Crew scurried through the dark wings. Anticipation
jingled in his veins.

Aria flashed a smile at
him, adding to the rush.

He pulled her to him in
a hug, trying not to get distracted by her soft curves and his
body’s immediate reaction to her. He breathed in the fragrance of
her shampoo and her perfume. Apple. Vanilla. Powder. He didn’t know
what it was, but he wanted to run his mouth all over her and find
out. Sampling it. Tasting. His own body … This wasn’t the time.
Tyler stared into her eyes, unable to read them in the dim
lighting. “Trust me?”

She squeezed his arm,
and he tightened his bicep, making her grin. “We’re going to be
great.” Her fingers dug in, and her voice shook. “It’s not like the
football games. It’s not. We’ve got this.”

“We’ve got this.” Of
course they did. But that wasn’t what he was talking about. He
needed her to trust him. Trust him so deeply that when this all
fell out, she’d be on his side. She wouldn’t just bolt like she did
after their first bad date. She’d get in his face and tell him what
was wrong, tell him ‘what for’ as they said here in Texas.

God, why was he
worrying about this now? Tonight.

More crowd noises came
through and clapping sounded as the act in front of them revved up.
It was this. The concert. It felt real, like a part of his real
life.

“Are you ready?” Tyler
asked.

“Oh, yeah.” Aria backed
up. “Senior talent show.” She interlaced her fingers and lifted
them overhead. “You’ll do the lip-sync thing. It’ll be great.” She
eyed his mouth. “Are you sure you don’t want to sing? We could play
a country song. We don’t have to play what Ethan picked.”

He waved his iPod and
half-lied. “Nope. I’ll hook this baby up to the speakers and let
Sax Grayson do the work.”

Aria shrugged out of
her green letter jacket, tossing it onto a stool. The sleeves were
covered with performance patches and music notes.

Music was her life,
too.

He turned back to her,
checked her out.

Hell, no.

***

Tyler eyed her from
head to toe. “You’re not wearing that.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Those fuckers in the
audience don’t need any more encouragement to stare at you.”

Aria looked over at
Director Garcia, who wasn’t paying any attention to them. “Geez,
Tyler. We’re at school. Language.”

Tyler scooped her
jacket back up and tried to hand it to her. “Sorry.” He frowned. “I
usually don’t care what the women I date wear.”

Aria shook him off. It
was already warm in here. Her silvery blue tank almost met school
code. If they ignored the fact that it ended an inch above her
waist and was backless. And she liked the way Tyler looked at her
in it, with greedy, possessive eyes. “It’s too hot for a jacket.
With the lights.”

“Try to stay behind the
speaker … so the guys don’t get ideas and piss me off.”

“No.”

Tyler hooked his index
finger in the waistband of her jeans and hauled her forward.

Her mouth parted. He
was so freaking forward. None of the other guys had ever been like
that before. So direct. So certain.

He kissed her.

Oh, God. Whatever
nervous energy had been flowing before tripled. The source—the
chemistry between her and Tyler.

Ethan shoved a guitar
between them. “Enough of that, you two. You’re going to get us
pulled on account of PDA.”

Tyler frowned and took
the instrument. He looked at the strap in confusion for a second
before throwing it on.

He helped Aria with
hers as if she were less used to it than he was; and he adjusted
the bass so it covered most of her body. Like she could play like
that. She turned to the guys, including all three of them in her
gaze. “We’ve got this. Tonight is ours.”

They grinned back at
her.

Director Garcia’s voice
came over the microphone, introducing them. “When Worlds Appear.
Covering Sax Grayson’s
Dark Sky
.”

Polite claps sounded,
then silence.

Dylan clicked out three
taps with the drumsticks just like they did in band, but overhead,
rock-star style.

Here we go.

Aria picked out the
first notes, trying not to look at the crowd. Ethan and Tyler
joined in.

Dylan worked the
rhythm, tweaking the song in ways that made it fresh compared to
the overplayed radio version. Ethan and she played off each other,
keeping with Dylan’s guidance. If Dylan was the backbone, she and
Tyler maintained the pulse. Ethan nailed the lead. Tyler winked at
her and let go of his bass. He held his arms out and then grabbed
the mic. He moved along the front of the stage, working the crowd.
They responded and their energy fed the performance. Tyler was
crazy good. He sang along so well his lip-syncing appeared real.
She wished she could hear him, but all she heard was Sax Grayson
like he sang on the radio. Sax Grayson was outstanding. But she’d
rather hear Tyler.

They were simpatico.
They worked with the recording like they’d practiced in the garage.
They’d achieved great moments in the garage. But working with a
crowd made them electric. Empowered.

Energy coursed through
her body. She was good. She knew it. But with the band, the group
dynamic, she catapulted to another level. She watched Tyler, and
the moments when she caught his gaze heightened the night. Two
became so much more than one.

Her pulse skipped.
Tyler caught a poetic verse and sang it to her. Tyler commanded the
stage and her. He turned back to the audience for the final
chorus.

The last note died out,
and the clapping crowd yelled, “Encore! Encore!”

She became aware of the
cool air conditioning on her sweat-dampened skin. The weight of the
guitar. They bowed.

Tyler gave her a quick
hug. His body was hard and strong and appealing, and he let go too
soon.

He high-fived the
guys.

The curtains closed.
The next act climbed on stage, murmuring, “Hate to follow
that.”

The iPod. She didn’t
want the song to cue up, play again, and spoil the lip-sync
illusion. She snatched it up.

Black screen.

Power off.

The power was off.
What the hell?

They stowed the drums
in the band hall and then carried their gear out to the cars to
lock it up. Aria was thinking the whole time, thankful for the
darkness. How’d the song play? She ran her mind over it. The song
had been exactly like the one they’d been practicing in the garage.
Except for the bridge. When Tyler had caught her gaze and sang to
her. It hadn’t been the same. But it still sounded like Sax
Grayson. Impossible. What she was thinking was impossible.

She pulled out her
phone and connected to the school Wi-Fi. She searched on
Sax
Grayson
and scrolled through the images. Stylized poses.
Electric blue eyes. Inky, messy black hair. She found one of him
performing, his hand shoving the sweaty hair off his forehead. She
made the image larger.

Tyler.

Her insides froze.

Ethan jumped up and
swung his arm down in an exaggerated rock move. “We rocked, bud!”
He came back down and bumped Dylan’s shoulder. He’d been on a high
since the last of the yells for encore had followed them out.

Dylan laughed.
“Yeah.”

Ethan opened the trunk
on his car, and they stowed his guitar first. Aria stood staring
stupidly down at her phone. She needed to move on to her car. The
little white light on the screen mesmerized her. She was a bug
caught in the porch light.

Tyler stilled beside
her. Noticeable because he was usually in motion, tapping a foot or
a hand. He looked over her shoulder.

She stared at him.

“You know.”

She couldn’t look
away.

“Shit.”

Dylan turned on the
gravel, his tennis shoes making a crunch sound. “What?” He checked
out Aria’s face and then Tyler’s. “What?”

Ethan pressed his lips
together, and his gaze flew to all three of them. He swallowed.
“She’s figured out he’s Sax Grayson. I wondered if she knew.”

Dylan jerked back,
“Don’t be stupid.”

Tyler kept his gaze on
her—watching her like she was a vase on the edge of the bookshelf,
and they were about to move the bookshelf.

“I’m not,” Ethan said.
“He’s Sax Grayson.”

Tyler flicked a glance
at Ethan. “How long?”

“Duh. During garage
band when we practiced for the talent show. You looked like the
video. I know cinema.” Ethan bounced to the toes of his tennis
shoes. “What is this? Like a reality show?”

A sound of denial
strangled from her throat. She felt like a fool. She wanted the
truth, and she wanted all of it right now. “What’s your name.”

Tyler spread out his
hands. “Tyler Saxon Grayson.” He spoke slow and sure and
steady.

Dylan cursed, “No way.
No fucking way.”

“Oh, wow,” Ethan said.
“I mean, I knew it, but hearing you say it … Do you really know all
those movie stars?”

“Ethan,” Dylan cut him
off and grabbed Ethan’s arm, “let them talk.”

“Oh. Yeah. Right.”

Their shoes crunched as
they walked off.

Tyler stiffened. “Guys
…”

Dylan didn’t turn
around. “We won’t say shit.”

“Yeah,” Ethan said,
“Don’t worry.”

Aria wished she had her
jacket back on. The outfit, perfect for hot lights and performing
on stage, was inadequate in the cold night air. She felt exposed,
on display, and uncomfortable.

They stood there in the
parking lot lit by buzzing parking lot lamps.

Tyler moved closer. “I
want you to be my girlfriend. I’m different with you.”

That’s what the big
ol’ liar led with? Not I’m sorry.
Aria shook off the thrill of
hearing his words, words that would have been adequate a week ago.
She needed more from him now. “What does that mean? Different
how?”

“I don’t know.” Tyler
gave a guy shrug. “I’m a rock star. That’s gotta be cool,
right?”

I’m a rock star? I’m
a rock star?
“I’m guessing the reality is harder to handle than
the fantasy.”

“Oh. It is.”

Frustration welled
within her. “Geez. You’re making a joke right now?”

“It’s been hard keeping
things about my real life from you.” Tyler took her arm. “You’re
cold. Let’s get in the truck.”

As appealing as
storming off looked in her mind, she wanted answers more. She
followed him and got in, automatically letting him stow her bass
behind the seat with his.

Tyler turned the
ignition over, got the heat going and pulled out. He drove in
silence and she held her hands out to the vent, ignoring their
tremble. When Tyler turned off the main road, she recognized the
overlook. She’d never been here with a guy other than him—this spot
on the edge of the state park that sat high enough to catch the
town lights from four towns over, a spot for couples to dream of a
life away from here. Tyler had brought her to the Pointe again.

Tyler had brought her
to the Pointe, but this time, he wanted to talk.

Talk.

He turned the truck off
and she let her hands drop. The inside of the cab was actually
toasty now. She hadn’t needed her hands on the vent any longer. She
was dating Sax Grayson. Her heart spun and sank. This had to make
them temporary. Why did she care so much when he was a big liar?
Please don’t let this be a reality show. If a camera crew jumped
out at them now or a camera fell out of the ceiling, she’d push him
off the bluff. “Why are you here?”

Tyler dropped his left
arm over the steering wheel and his right over the seatback. “An ex
got a little obsessed. I told you about her. Her name is Gina. She
pulled insane stunts. I’m lying low while the police track her
down.”