Our Secret Song: A sweet brother's best friend, rockstar romance (For Love and Rock Book 1)

by Emily Childs

  Almost like the moment when our walls crumbled at each other’s feet. When we bore it all and we unraveled.

  I can’t let it happen again.

  It hurt too much last time. This time, with all the years between us, would be so much worse.

  Chapter 19

  Alexis

  Spring—2013

  I don’t want to drive home with Tyler. He’s been pushing the limits all through prom and it has sort of ruined it for me. Senior prom only comes once and I wish I would’ve gone without a date at this point.

  Mom isn’t home, not that she’d care. She practically expects me to hole up in a motel with my prom date. My house is empty now that Parker is at Arizona State. To make it worse, he’s even further since Arizona is playing against LSU this week.

  Tyler pulls into my driveway. The house is darker than pitch, and he stares at me with a hungry gleam in his eye.

  “Thanks for taking me,” I say and smooth out my light blue dress. “I had fun.”

  Tyler shuts off the ignition. “You’re not going to invite me in?”

  I shake my head. “Sorry, my mom is home and wouldn’t like it.”

  He laughs and scoots closer. “Your mom is at the club working her stuff.”

  I narrow my eyes. Maybe I’m not close with my mom, maybe she has problems, but I don’t like how everyone uses her past against her. “She’s not a dancer, Tyler. She’s a waitress. But even if she were, you don’t need to say it all judgey like that.”

  “Whatever. All I’m saying is the night doesn’t have to end.”

  I pull back. “Um, yeah. I’m good.”

  Tyler’s face shadows. “Come on, Alexis. I did all this stuff all day. Dinner, pictures. And I don’t even get a kiss.”

  I snort my irritation. “I’ll pay half if it’s that big of an issue.”

  When I reach for the door handle, Tyler grips my arm and tugs me to him. “Or you could be a good prom date and settle it like normal girls.”

  He leans down to kiss me and I shove him back. “Get off me, you jerk!”

  “It’s a kiss, Alexis. It’s not like I’m pushing for more.” He grips the back of my head, a sly grin on his face. “But if you want more, I mean, we’re both eighteen. We can do what we want and—”

  He doesn’t finish. The driver side door rips open, and a hand curls around Tyler’s suit coat, pulling him onto the driveway.

  “She said not to touch her!”

  Tyler holds up his hands. “Whoa, Cole. Take it easy. We’re good.”

  My breath catches when Bridger lowers into a crouch, hovering over Tyler on the ground, his eyes like hot coals. “We’re not good. Not even close. Get out of the car, Alexis.” He doesn’t look at me, but I oblige without argument. Bridger tugs on Tyler’s tie, so their faces are nose to nose. “Get out of here. Don’t even look in her direction again, Sanderson.”

  Tyler scrambles to his feet and into his car, cursing under his breath. “You’re not even her brother,” he says as Bridger slams the door.

  Only once Tyler’s taillights fade into the night do I look at Bridger. He’s been gone so much lately. An indie record company signed the guys a year ago and to get their name out to the world, the label has kept them on the road for three months. Mostly playing small venues and clubs across the state. But I heard a Perfectly Broken song on the radio and I about lost my voice from screaming so loud.

  They’re making it and I don’t know what surprises me more. That Bridger is off the road, or that he’s here, waiting for me to get home from prom.

  I narrow my eyes. “Thanks for embarrassing me! Now everyone is going to laugh at me. Why did you do that, Bridger?”

  Another surprise. Instead of a smart retort, Bridger jogs after me to my front door. His palms trap the sides of my face. I don’t move, I don’t breathe. “You want to fight me on this, Alexis? You want to argue that I should’ve let that guy keep his hands all over you? Try it. I dare you.”

  I shake him off. “What are you doing here? Where are your new groupies?”

  A flash of anger fills his expression. “Really? I help you out and you throw it back at me.” He lets out a long breath. “You’ve been worse than normal since we started taking off.”

  “Yeah, well you think you’re Led Zeppelin or something. I don’t need cocky rockstars.”

  “So you admit we’re rockstars. About time.”

  “You’re an opening act,” I bite out. “And I don’t need your help.”

  Bridger growls, a real growl, and has me caged against my door. I freeze. His hands are flat on either side of my head, his mouth close. I want it closer and I hate it.

  “Say thank you, Al.”

  “No.”

  “Why are you such a . . . You’re like a spoiled brat who wants one thing, then does another.”

  “Look in the mirror.”

  “Say thank you.”

  “No!”

  He stares at me, challenging me. I don’t blink. I don’t back down, and before I know it, his mouth crushes against mine. He tastes sweet and minty. I close my eyes, my arms around his neck.

  “This . . .” I whisper against his mouth. “This doesn’t mean I like you, Cole.”

  He pulls away, his lips hover over mine. “Parker is going to kill me.”

  “Then stop.”

  Bridger tugs on the back of my head and kisses me again. He resists. He kisses my jaw, my neck, back to my lips.

  All at once, he breaks away with a curse, leaving me breathless, my back against my front door. We kissed. A real kiss, and I need to brace against the door to keep upright.

  Bridger paces on the porch his fingers laced behind his head. He’s gotten more tattoos on his arms and I want to trace each one. I want him to leave. I need him to touch me again.

  His eyes are wild when he turns back to me.

  “Safety net moment. I didn’t like that guy touching you because—” Bridger comes closer, his hands on the sides of my neck. He drops his gaze, gathering thoughts, then lifts his eyes to mine. “Because I want to be the one who touches you. The one with you.”

  It takes all my composure to keep my head from spinning. I can’t lose it. This is simply a heated moment. We’ve had plenty of those, to be sure. But this one, oh, this one is different. Needy and desperate. Passion makes people lose their minds and make terrible, life-changing choices. He’s getting started on something I know will be big. I’ve always known he’d get here, and I’m not going to let one fight, one moment of unbidden heat ruin it. For either of us.

  “No you don’t,” I say with as much deliberateness as I can manage.

  “Don’t speak for me.”

  “You don’t want me. You’re just being protective. Like Parker.”

  He glares at me. “I am not a brother to you, Alexis. Not in any way.”

  “You’re at the beginning of a music career, Bridger,” I say, voice soft. “You think I’m going to believe you aren’t going to get lost in fans and girls who want you?”

  He steps back as if I burned him. “You think I’d cheat on someone? On you?”

  “I know you get caught up in the idea of love and relationships and—”

  “Not with you!” His face softens and he drags his fingers through his hair. “Not with you, Al. I’ve resisted you. You think I want to be here, doing this? You’re like, like a constant thorn in my side. You’re my best friend’s sister!”

  “Wow. I’m swooning.”

  He almost grins and slips his fingers through mine, then guides our hands behind my back, holding me against his body. “But you’re a beautiful thorn. And I can’t keep pretending you haven’t dug deep inside me.”

  My pulse won’t stop racing. All I want is to throw caution to the wind and lose myself in him. But I promised myself I’d always be cautious. I wouldn’t open my heart to silly romantic whims because I refuse to depend on anyone. I refuse to be my mother. She lost her love after my dad died when I was a baby, and she’s been searchin
g ever since. She latches onto this furious whirlwind like Bridger is bringing and she is always, always burned in the end.

  I will not be her.

  I’ve stood on my own two feet my entire life and I’m not about to stumble now. It would ruin me and it would ruin Bridger. Truth be told, I care way too much about his stupidly wonderful heart to ever hurt him in that way.

  I pull away from him, shaking my head. “No, Bridger. No. We’re not going down that road—”

  “Alexis don’t lie to me. Don’t tell me you haven’t felt something.”

  “I won’t lie. But that’s exactly why we’re not going there. We’re too emotional. Too involved. You need to live your life and I’ll live mine. Nothing will change. I’ll tell you when you’re a total jerk, since you are 99.365 percent of the time, and you’ll become that one in a million. You’ll live it up, and you’ll never resent me for tying you down.”

  “Tying me down?”

  “I would, and I don’t . . . I don’t want the wild life, you know. I’ve seen what that does.”

  “You don’t want me is what you’re really saying.”

  I want him too much and that’s the problem. When it falls apart, we’d both break.

  He flinches, and I’m forced to blink away tears as he takes a step back. “This isn’t over, Alexis.”

  I open my front door. “It is.”

  “No. It isn’t.”

  I hang my head and close the door on him. We’ll keep this between us. That’s what our safety nets mean. We crack our ribs open and bear our hearts and keep our mouths shut once we stitch ourselves back up again.

  But tonight, I slide down the wall and hug my knees to my chest. My ribs are still cracked when I bury my face in the ruffles of my dress. I cry. For the first time in all our bickering, our rude words, Bridger Cole makes me cry.

  He’s right. It’s not over. With him, it’ll never be over.

  Chapter 20

  Bridger

  He’s a monster.

  He’s an abusive junkie

  #boycottBridger

  Sounds fishy.

  She might be lying. He does a lot of charity.

  You never really know a person, I guess.

  I put my phone in my pocket, already tired of the flood of commentary still pinging my alerts since Nadia’s book release.

  Each day brings a new battle between sides. I have some supporters. There are plenty of haters. Nadia’s accusations brought into question some of my sponsorships. Tim was prepared, though, and has been battling to keep funding coming in from appearances and commercials we’ve done in the past.

  One of our shows was pulled in Iowa from next spring’s tour. I expect more to be canceled. The entire PR team at Enigma is working overtime, all to save my stupid hide.

  It’s become like background noise thanks to Alexis.

  She had everything arranged on opening day of the book of lies. Parker had the night off between away games and came over. Tate, Ellie—they put down their weapons for my sake—Becca, Adam. Lance didn’t make it, but he’s not really into the whole family thing.

  We didn’t look at anything online. We didn’t watch any interviews. Didn’t read any reviews. Alexis arranged for us to go back to being teenagers and we had an Xbox night until three in the morning.

  It was perfect.

  I didn’t look at anything for three days after it broke, but was forced to get involved when someone tried to break into my house. Some girl basically raised a mob of women with pitchforks. They collided with women who still wanted me to marry them. It wasn’t good. Police were called.

  I knew they’d find out where I lived.

  Thankfully, Quinn knows what he’s doing, and for the last two weeks no one has been outside the gates. Last week, Mallorie gave Alexis and me the all-clear to resume our staged appearances.

  I think it’s a terrible idea.

  People believe everything they read, and I’m not clueless that it puts a target on my back for retaliation. I can handle me, it’s her I’m worried about. If anyone did anything to her . . . I don’t even let myself think of it.

  “Al,” I call down the hallway and wait until she pokes her head out of her bedroom. I hold up the packet. “Tim sent you a present again.”

  She rolls her eyes and disappears back into the room for half a breath. She returns, a satchel slung over her shoulder, shorts that show off her legs too well, and sneakers that have pink laces. Mallorie will lose her mind knowing she’s not wearing the nude stilettos she had the stylists send over.

  I love how Alexis looks.

  “Is he ever going to stop?” She brushes past me. “I’m not signing an NDA. I sent bagels and schmear to the offices this morning, so I thought he’d love me by now.”

  “Oh, he does. You keep sending thank you carbs to the staff and you’ll always win Tim over.”

  “Well, they deserve it. They’re like your own personal army and have kept things fairly tame, all things considered.”

  Can’t disagree with her. Enigma has the right team to manage these scandals, but the team for Perfectly Broken is more than that. I like to think they genuinely care about me and the guys. Which is where Tim’s head is with the papers. I hold them up again. “He loves your deliveries, but still wants you to sign it. Even texts me once in the morning and once at night. He’s basically my alarm clock now.”

  She rolls her eyes and pushes through the kitchen door. I enjoy it a little too much when she comes to an abrupt stop.

  “Bridger, what is this?”

  “Breakfast of champions.” I wink at her and open my arms to the strawberry parfait bar I set up. I even found her favorite kind of granola. The one with candied almonds in it. “Or at least the breakfast for lunatics who voluntarily agree to get swarmed.”

  She snorts a laugh and adds the slivered strawberries to a touch of yogurt and at least four heaping portions of granola. “I’m the chef, Cole.”

  “Well, take a day off. This is my thank you food.”

  Her eyes brighten as she takes it all in. “Speaking of days off, I have an interview at the library.”

  “Yeah? That’ll be the most boring job ever. Congratulations.”

  She smacks my arm, laughing. “You realize I’m going to school for library studies.”

  “Yes, I do. Still liking it a month in?” I take the yogurt spoon from her and make my own parfait.

  “It’s great. But I’m pretty sure someone took my picture on campus the other day.”

  That brings me to a pause. My chest tightens. “You sure?”

  “I don’t know. There was a guy holding a camera, and it looked like he hurried to turn away from me. I’m pretty sure I heard a click, though.”

  “Al—”

  She holds up a hand. “We knew it would happen. And since we checked off that radio interview and they posted me all cozied up to you on their website, it was going to happen pretty quickly. You saw their Instagram post. All the questions about the chick on Bridger’s arm. Some of them were mean, you know.”

  I tug on her hand. The last few weeks it’s become easier, more natural, to touch Alexis Knight. She rests her forehead to my chest as my arms curl around her waist. “They’ll get worse, Al. I promise they will. Block them out because I’d never change anything about you.”

  “Nothing, huh?”

  I smile and rest my chin on her head. “Except all your annoying things. Which is a lot, so maybe I would.”

  She smacks my chest and pulls away. “Same for you, sir. Same for you. Hey, I better get going.”

  I nod, snatching my keys from the peg on the wall. “Let’s go.”

  “Uh, where are you going?”

  “I’m taking you to school. Coffee run morning, remember?”

  She rolls her eyes. “Right. Because everyone wants to be trampled in Starbucks this early in the morning.”

  I hurry and help put things away in the kitchen, leave a note for Gabby to help herself to the leftovers when sh
e comes, then head out to make our latest public appearance.

  It’s working. Mallorie knows what she’s doing, I’ll give her that. The little peeks at me with another girl is working. Interest is piqued, and in the last week or two talk has shifted from boycotting my band to the good girl who wears sneakers always hanging with me. Why would a girl like that mess with a rocker who hurts women?

  It’s a little bit of a miracle no one has connected her name yet since she’s Parker’s sister. I have a feeling some of our PR people have been controlling it. But it’ll break eventually, then Parker will no doubt have more to worry about himself.

  I wave to Quinn at the lower door. Alexis hands him a parfait I didn’t know she brought and says, “Later Thor.”

  He laughs and settles into his chair with his breakfast. My blood heats. She doesn’t know what she’s doing, but she fits here. Everyone from my security to my dog loves Alexis.

  In the jeep her phone dings. She looks at it, frowns, and puts it away.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Nothing.”

  “Okay.” I pause and wait for it.

  “It’s Bryce. He keeps wanting to meet with me. To talk he says. What is there to talk about?”

  My grip tightens on the steering wheel. “Don’t meet with him, Al. Not now.”

  She gives me a narrowed look. “I won’t mess with your reputation, Bridger. I agreed to this, so I’ll be sure to look like I’m not stepping out on you. Don’t worry.”

  “Would you relax,” I say, laughing. “I wasn’t thinking of me. I don’t want you to meet with him because he doesn’t deserve to be within a hundred yards of you.”

  Her face reddens, and she faces the window, no doubt hiding her own grin. “Just drive, Cole. I need coffee.”

  I laugh again. “Yes, ma’am.”

  We don’t go to Starbucks. Alexis grins when we pull into a smoothie place we used to come to whenever my parents took us to Vegas as kids. It’s twenty minutes from the Strip with less people.

  Alexis beams at me. “I don’t think Juicie was on the approved list of public appearances.”