Dangerous Hearts: Rock Star Romance, 1 (Lyric & Wolf) (8 page)

I’m
present, as in at the concert, but I’m completely detached from everything I
normally love about a show. The crowd is screaming like crazy as Wolf steps out
onto the stage and howls. That’s his thing. He howls like a wolf, soliciting
pandemonium from the crowd before diving into his opening number, “Joke’s On
You.” What a coincidence. That’s exactly how I feel about myself right now. The
joke is totally on me.

We’re standing on the side of the stage,
but I’m only here for Terese at this point. If it weren’t for her, I’d be somewhere
else, hiding out in humiliation, just wanting to sleep it off before the start
of the tour. But no, I’m stuck here, listening to the raspy rocker light the open-air
theater on fire. Even I can’t deny the effects of his voice. Wolf’s sound can
be described as alternative rock that lends well to hard or soft. He tends to
lean toward the harder side of rock mostly, but when he slows it down. Damn.
That’s when I’m listening. His impassioned vocals have the ability to tear me
apart and then put me back together again, and it’s impossible to ignore the
vibrations his voice sends through me.

He’s good at it all. Singing. Strumming.
Strutting. The audience is eating out of the palm of his hand, singing along to
every damn word of every song. Except for one.

I’ll never admit this out loud, but I
have every Wolf song memorized and not because of this tour. I’m a fan of his
music. Not him.
His music.

But this song I don’t recognize from
their set list. In fact, it’s not on their West Coast set list, either. It seems
familiar somehow, though.

They’ve only strummed the first few
chords and Wolf sang one line, but then he stops to get the crowd’s attention. He’s
building anticipation.

Suddenly, the band stops playing and the
spotlights focus on Wolf. “Did you hear that? That’s our new single, if all
works out.” The crowd goes insane. “But we have a problem, and we’re gonna ask
for your help.”
This should be
interesting.
“Full disclosure. These lyrics aren’t mine. I found them
recently, and I couldn’t get them out of my head. We’re about to perform it for
you and let me warn you, this shit is good.” More cheering. My heart is
pulsating. “Here’s what we need from you. We’re going to play this song, but we
need your help. Pull out your phones, your cameras, your iPads,
what-the-fuck-ever you’ve got. Record it. Post it. Share it. If you wrote this
gem, we’re hoping you’ll come forward. We’re going to find our writer. But
listen up,” he booms, creating a louder roar from the crowd. “This is no
Cinderella shit. No impostors need apply. We aren’t offering glass slippers or
happily ever
afters
. We just want whoever wrote this
song to come forward so we can make this single number one together.”

Wolf gives the crowd time to soak this
all up. I don’t even know if they heard him over the screaming but he’s
grinning and giving the band their cue to start. “All right, lucky motherfuckers.
This is ‘Dangerous Heart.’”

 
And then the beat starts back up, and I
have to hold onto something.
That title
.
I grab the rail in front of me, bracing myself to hear what has got to be a
strange coincidence. But then I hear the familiar words as he sings the first
line again. My words.
Two wrongs don’t
mend hearts like ours
.

No
fucking way.

Somehow, Wolf got his hands on my song. The
one I trashed for good reason. I should have never had to think about it again,
and now he’s playing it in front of thousands.

What
the fuck?

I want to scream first, and then I’m
racking my brain for an explanation. Did he see me toss it in the garbage?

The rage is starting to bubble inside me
until I’m seething with anger, unable to see anything clearly. There’s a
ferocious beast inside me is preparing to attack, banging down the walls of my
cage while snarling and dripping with contempt.

There’s nothing I can do but contain the
beast. For
now
. But my fury only builds as I stand by,
listening to Wolf sing my words to a crowd of thousands. Thousands of his
dearest fans whom he’s asked to make this shit go viral. And they’ll do it.
Because he’s Wolf.

Wolf

She’s
fucking crazy.

Jenn practically chases me from the stage
the entire way to the bus and then asks for a private interview, which
Lyric has
apparently already arranged without
informing me. When we’re alone, she stalks her way to the back of the bus where
my bedroom is. I
follow
her, but only to tell
her this isn’t happening. Not tonight. Not with her. She needs to get the hell
out.

“What the fuck are you doing, Jenn?” I
practically explode. I’m already on fire
from
the concert
,
and while I usually like an easy
lay, I’m not doing this with radio’s
best
-known
skank.

I’m a hypocrite, but I don’t care. When I
sleep around, it’s not with girls who openly spread it for any musician on the
planet. I have an ego that requires me to believe that the girls who wait
outside my door are
t
here for me and only me.

She’s giggling, her arms around my neck,
alcohol breath blowing in my face. “I said we had an interview. I was thinking
we could get real
deep
.” She grabs a
handful of my cock and it immediately reacts.

“I appreciate the offer, Jenn. I really
do.” I grit my teeth to keep from giving in. “The bus takes off soon, so
there’s no time.” I gently pry her
hands
from
the waistband of my pants but then she wraps her arms around my neck
again
,
plastering
her body to mine. She’s like a leech. Her grip is so tight
,
and one of her legs
ha
s
slither
ed
around my waist. If she hadn’t
locked us in my bedroom
,
I could have called
for backup.
Where the fuck is Rex?

There’s a crash from outside the bedroom
just as Jenn steps away to remove her top. She doesn’t hear it. Two perky
breasts are now exposed, begging for
me
.
Fuck
. Her tits are nice
,
and it’s been awhile. She sinks down to her knees,
a wicked smile lighting up her face as she eyes my crotch and licks her lips.

No.
You’re not doing this.

Before I know what’s happening
,
a small figure bursts through the door, eyes red
as the devil. Lyric. Gorgeous Lyric. She shouldn’t have eyes of the devil. But
she sure as shit does right now. Her
arms
fold
across her busty chest
,
and she glares at
Jenn. “Put your tits away and get the hell out.”

Jenn looks between Lyric and me,
confusion written all over her face. And then disappointment. She’s finally
realizing she’s not going to get what she wants. “Shit. You’re with Lyric? Why
didn’t you tell me?” She scrambles to her feet and tries to find her shirt.

Lyric takes a step forward
,
and I’m afraid she’s going to throw a punch. I’m
too turned on to stop her. “He’s not
with
me, but that shouldn’t make you feel better. Your tits are still hanging
out. Leave.”

“You can’t tell me to leave
.
”
S
he glares at
Lyric and then turns to me. “Right, Wolf?” Jenn gives it one last desperate
attempt. I almost feel sorry for her and a little bit shitty about myself.
Guilt isn’t an emotion I experience often, but part of me hates that women like
Jenn think I’m a given. All they have to do is waltz in
and
strip, and my dick is theirs for the night.

As delicately as I can, I reach her shirt
on the floor and hand it to her. “I’m sorry
,
Jenn, Lyric’s the boss. We’ll catch up when I’m in town again.”
I’m never coming back to San Diego. Never
again.

Lyric holds the door for her and then
slams it behind her. When she turns back to me
,
her eyes are still red and heated. Like the sun.
Can the sun bleed?
It’s my turn to get mad at her
,
but I can’t. With anyone else
,
I would go off on them. If it was any othe
r
r
oad
m
anager, she’d be fired. But it’s Lyric. And I find
myself amused and a little bit aroused that she just kicked someone out of my
bedroom.

She’s still fuming, flushed and panting,
and it’s hot as hell. I’ve imagined making her cheeks that color more times
than I can count. And I’m still hard. I shift slightly and she takes notice of
the massive erection trying to
fight
its way
through my jeans. It’s getting uncomfortable.

Lyric gasps and looks up
at
me
before squeezing
her lids together and shaking her head.
Good
luck purging that from your memory, sweetheart
. I snicker internally.

I thought she might have been hiding a
little crush on me, but I had no idea she already wanted to stake a claim. I’ll
have to figure out how to deal with this for an entire tour
—f
uck her and then go back to business as usual.

“Care to explain why you kicked down my
door?”

Her eyes move around my room until she
spots something, and then she’s moving to the set of drawers by my bed. That’s
when my eyes go wide
,
and I run over to slam
the drawers shut before she can see what’s in there.

“Hey! I’m giving you a pass on barging in
here because I didn’t know how to let Jenn down gently, so you saved me there.
But I draw the line at going through my stuff.”

She swivels
,
and I swear she’s grown a few inches
as she
stare
s
back at me. “Really? You have something
to hide? You think you can steal intimate lyrics from people and then pawn them
off as your own? Make a huge scene about it so that the world is on your side?
You rock stars are all alike, aren’t you? Caring about no one but yourselves.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? Is
this about that new song? I cleared it with Crawley and the label. We’re ready
to make a deal with whoever wrote those lyrics. They
'
ll
be set for life.”

She squeezes her eyes shut
,
and it has a direct effect
on
my insides. Just that look tells me what she
hasn't said
. I’ve found my Cinderella.

“How did you find it? I threw it away.”
Her voice is soft now, hitting me straight in the chest.

“It’s yours? Shit, Lyric. If I knew
that—”

“What would you have done?” She glares,
causing a sudden tightness in my chest and throat.

This girl does things to me.

Of course she had to be the one to write
that song. “I would have talked to you before doing anything with it. I didn’t
know who wrote it. It was about to fall into the pool
,
and I caught it. If it meant so much to you
,
why did you throw it
away
? There was no name
on it, nothing—”

“So you stole it?”

I shake my head, completely thrown off
balance. “No. I didn’t
steal
anything.
Didn’t you hear me out there? We want to offer whoever wrote it a deal.”

She laughs, a sarcastic laugh as if I’m
insane. This is not the reaction I expected from the owner of those lyrics.
Then again, I didn’t expect the owner’s name to be Lyric. Th
ere
’s a coincidence for you.

“Some things can’t be bought, Wolf.”

“I know that.” I do. I absolutely know
that.
Shit.
“Honestly, we thought we
were doing a good thing.”

“You didn’t know it was my song?”

“No, I swear.”

“You liked it?”

That stops me in my tracks. I want to
take her face into my palms and lay one on her. Is this insecurity coming from
Ms. Feisty herself? “I love it, Lyric. The band loves it. Our manager loves it.
The crowd fucking ate that shit up. We want it to be our next hit, and with the
publicity we’ve brought to it tonight, we’re well on our way.”

Her eyes glaze over and shift
away
from me. “Look at me, Lyric.” She does. “I’m
not just saying
this .
 . . it’s yours.
If you want me to put a stop to it all, I will. If you want me to let the world
know you wrote it, I can do that
,
too.
Anything you want. Totally your call.”

She looks at me
,
and by the way her eyes are scanning mine, I swear she’s seeing me for the
first time. It’s possible. People get closed off when they’ve been burned, I
know from experience. Lyric’s charcoaled skin was still hot when I met her. She
couldn’t see past the smoke, but something is changing. Maybe she isn’t ready
to believe me
,
but she wants to.

There’s a bang on the bedroom door
,
and Crawley’s voice is
low
but clear. “We’re taking off. Lyric, Wolf, you two in there? I need
to see your faces before this bus leaves. Sorry.”

I roll my eyes and move to the door before
Lyric can get to it.
When
the door is open,
Crawley and Rex are standing there. Rex gives me a nod and walks off. Crawley
lingers longer than he should, glances between us both, and then nods. “Thanks.
See you in the morning.”

“Wait,” Lyric calls and steps forward. I
slam the door before she can leave. “What are you doing? I need to claim my
bunk—”

“Not until we’re done talking.”

She shoves my chest
,
and I want to lift her, making it easy for her to
wrap her legs around my waist. Resistance makes for hot sex when it’s
consensual. “You can’t imprison me.”

“You can’t kick girls out of my room.”

“You can’t steal song lyrics from
innocent people.”

“Then you shouldn’t throw them away like
they’re nothing to you.”

We’re only a couple
of
inches apart. My hands are itching to grip her
waist and slam
my
mouth
onto hers
. Shut her the hell up, at least for a few
hours.
It might r
elieve some of the tension
between us because while it may have been questionable when we met, it’s now
painfully obvious. I want Lyric beneath me, wrapped around me, slipping and
sliding with me until her moans turn to screams. I fucking want her. And I want
her words
,
too. Her angry lyrics, her
vulnerable confessions. I want it all.

“I don’t want anyone to know I wrote it,”
she whispers but doesn’t back away.

“What?”

“You can have it. You’re right. I threw
it away. It was too—”

“Real? Lyric, those make for the best
songs. You should know this. It is real
,
and
that’s why I love it. That’s why I became obsessed with it for over a
week
. I can’t write that shit. Not for lack of
trying, but it taps into a part of me that I can’t get to.”

The softness that caresses her features
tells me she understands. “You can. You’re just afraid. Please just don’t tell
anyone it was me. It’s yours. No money. Just take it. I’ll sign it over to you.
Okay?”

“Okay.” But I don’t back down,
and
I don’t remove my eyes from her although she’s
already looked away. I notice the way her long lashes flutter to the top of her
cheeks.
The way h
er small body
is
still shaking from the adrenaline rush of barging
in here. The way
she
still stands straight,
shoulders back, like a fighter. Lyric is a fighter, but she’s also vulnerable,
and I’ve glimpsed into a part of her that makes me vulnerable
,
too. Her words. Her truth. I’m so totally fucked.

“I should claim my bunk
.
”
S
he looks up,
begging me to let her go, so I open the door, although it’s the last thing I
want to do.

“Good
night,
Lyric.”

She pauses and looks
as though
she’s going to turn around. If she does
,
I might pull her back into my room, and this time
I won’t let her leave.

It’s better if she leaves.

She’s still facing away when she says,
“Good
night, Wolf.”