LOW: A Rockstar Romance
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Authors: Lux,Vivian
LOW:
A Rockstar Romance
Vivian Lux
Copyright 2016
All Rights Reserved
This book contains adult themes, explicit language and sexual situations. It is intended for mature audiences.
COPYRIGHT INFORMATION
Please respect the work of this author. No part of this book may be reproduced or copied without permission. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Any similarities to events or situations are also coincidental.
The publisher and author acknowledge the trademark status and trademark ownership of all trademarks and locations mentioned in this book. Trademarks and locations are not sponsored or endorsed by trademark owners.
(C) 2016 by Vivian Lux and Velvetfire Press
All Rights Reserved
BOOKS BY VIVIAN LUX:
Sons of Steel Motorcycle Club:
Rockstar Romance
JAX: A Rockstar Stepbrother Romance
RANE: A Rockstar Stepbrother Romance
Sports Romance
FORCE: A Bad Boy Sports Romance
IMPACT: A Secret Baby Sports Romance
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About this book:
He's every girl's rock'n'roll fantasy. And he wants
me
?
Zoe:
Lowell Stowe is the drummer for Ruthless, the biggest rock band on the planet. And all of a sudden he's one of the hottest faces in town. A rock god turned model...
and he's interested in me
?
This can't possibly be reality.
His skilled musician fingers play my body like an instrument. His lips make me forget about the stress of my real life.
It's fun to pretend that I'm someone else for a while.
But it's going to all fall apart. I know this. I'm not stupid.
Now I've got to figure out how to end this high-flying fantasy before it crashes down around me.
Low:
Loyalty to my band meant I had to step out from behind the drumkit for the first time in my life.
Now my face is everywhere and there are paparazzi camped out in front of my building.
Zoe is a distraction from all this weirdness. Her soft body fits in my hands like she was made for me and I can't get enough of the way she sounds when she cries out my name.
But I've been down this road before. She can't possibly understand the ties that bind me.
I'm going to hurt her. I'm going to break her heart. There is no denying this will end badly.
So why can't I walk away?
Dedication:
To B., who knows more about romance tropes than any man alive, and is totally secure with that fact.
To N. and E., guys, I honestly don't know WHO I'd be if I didn't get to be your mom.
To Sienna Valentine, you're very distracting when I've hit crunch time. You're also very awesome and I don't know what I'd do if you weren't there to distract me.
And of course, to caffeine. Thank you for keeping me alive.
Prologue
A note to my readers:
The saying goes: if you meet one person with autism...you've met one person with autism. Autism is a spectrum disorder, with delays and abilities that are unique to each person.
The character of Max has behaviors and traits that reflect my own personal experience with the people in my life who are autistic. He is not meant to be accurate for everyone's experience.
Low
"Not me," Keir grinned.
Rane put his finger to his nose and shook his head emphatically.
Balzac grunted something that sounded pretty fucking profane. When I raised my eyebrows at him, pleading silently, he only narrowed his eyes and glowered back.
"Fuck you guys," I exhaled.
"Looks like
you
gotta do it, Twitch!" Rane announced, sounding way more gleeful about this whole situation than he needed to.
I looked wildly at my bandmates. "No way," I shook my head. "Not me. I'm the fucking drummer! This makes no sense, no one even knows what I look like." My foot jiggled up and down in a staccato rhythm that I didn't even notice until Keir looked up from his phone and pointedly stared at it. I reached out and stilled it with my hand. "This is a stupid fucking idea, guys. Why do you want me to do it?"
Rane stood up from lounging on the couch and stretched like he had no fucks left to give about this whole sorry situation. "Because.
He
...," he pointed at his brother who was busy typing on his phone, "would rather
die
than look at any girl that isn't Scarlett. And
he
," he pointed to Balzac and cocked his head. "Wait, I missed it. Why won't you do it?"
Balzac folded his arms across his massive chest. I was taller than the dude by a good four inches, but he outweighed me by a good hundred pounds. And even though I knew he was downright
gentle
when it came to things like tiny kittens and those special fragile tulip bulbs he liked to order all the way from the fucking France or Holland or some other foofy European country, that didn't mean he couldn't be as intimidating as
fuck
when he wanted to be.
His bushy eyebrows slammed down. "
Because,"
he growled.
"I don't
want
to."
"But I don't want to either!" I pointed out.
Rane waved his hand. "But you will…"
"Why?" I demanded.
"Because I'm asking you for a favor."
I glared at him, gripping the arms of my chair for a second.
Fucker.
He cocked his head at me and gave me that smile, just
waiting.
"God
dammit
," I seethed.
"That's the spirit!" He turned away from me and spoke into his phone. "Okay, Keith. Twitch will be there for the shoot tomorrow morning at seven AM."
"Seven A.M.? In the morning?" I looked at all four of my bandmates, my sister included. "I really hate all of you, you know."
Pepper lifted the corner of her mouth in what I think she thought was a smile.
"You don't," Keir said dismissively. "You
should.
But you don't."
"And besides
, models,
Twitch!" Rane clapped like a kindergarten teacher trying to get her class enthused about a bad idea. "There will be models!" He waggled his hands in a curvy, feminine shape and made like he was throwing it at me. "All over you!"
I leaned forward and cradled my head in my hands. "I can not
fucking
believe we have a fucking
perfume
fucking named for us
anyfuckingway
."
When I get upset, I tend to forget how to speak without swearing.
"It's not a
perfume
," Rane corrected formally. "It's a
signature scent.
A
'Ruthless Experience
.'" I could hear the air quotes firmly placed around each word.
Keir laughed. "I agree with Twitch, though. It's completely, and utterly terrible." His eyes softened a little. "But I'm fucking tired of touring. We all are. I don't know about you guys, but I need to take a year off and just stare at a wall for a while."
"And bone your girl," Rane corrected.
"My
soon-to-be wife
, yes," Keir said. "Watch your fucking mouth."
I was still stuck on the seven AM part. "And you support this?" I asked my sister. "
Et tu Brute?
Judas?"
She gave me the finger and a sly smile.
"Look," Rane barreled on. He was getting to me and he knew it. "I've got a girl. Keir's got a girl. And both of them would tear off our cocks and shove them down our throats if we dared to appear in a photo shoot draped in half naked women. So we're out. And Balzac won't do it...."
"Hell no I won't," Balzac grumbled. "Not unless you motherfuckers wanna die."
"So," Rane continued, ignoring the threat. "It's either you or Pepper. If you're not going to do it then, I don't know, Pepper?" He turned to my twin sister and waggled his eyebrows. "How you feel about being draped in male models?"
My sister didn't answer. Of course she didn't. But she widened her eyes, just a fraction. No one would see it but me, but I knew that look. That look of terror about being in the spotlight. Or worse, being around men she didn't know. Pepper around male models? Having to touch them, having them touch her? Without me there to keep an eye on her?
That thought terrified her.
And it terrified me too.
"Yeah, no," I sighed heavily. "It's gotta be me then, huh?"
Pepper didn't look at me. But I felt the wave of gratitude rise off her skin all the same. It was that twin connection. She didn't need to speak. Not with me.
"It's you, Twitch!" Rane crowed, clapping me on the back. "The new face of Ruthless!"
"
My
face?" I paused, looked over at the mirror that hung over Rane's sofa. My reflection stared back at me.
He looked confused. And slightly crazed. Not at all like a cover model or whatever the fuck I had just signed on to be.
"Oh, we're all fucked," I muttered.