Pretty Words: An Enemies To Lovers Rock Star Romance (River Valley Rebels)

by Gabrielle Sands

My knees bumped against the small coffee table by his feet, and I stopped. He watched me intently, silently beckoning me closer with emerald eyes that seemed to glow in the dim-pink light of the lounge.

  I inched around the table and lowered down by his side. The leather sofa was still warm from the blonde who’d just left.

  “Hello.” His voice was thick honey.

  I swallowed and gave him a shaky smile. “Hi.”

  “Who are you?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

  For some reason, my memory flashed to Jamie’s question to me yesterday. He had asked for my name. This man was asking me who I was.

  I’m yours, my mind screamed.

  “I’m Ivy,” I said.

  The man’s smirk grew into a crooked smile. “I’m Oliver.”

  Oliver. I knew that name.

  This was the guitarist of Ritual Disruption. Unlike Jamie, who looked better in pictures, Oliver’s magnetism only manifested in real life. In the photos I saw of him with the band, or alone with his guitar, he was just a man.

  In person, he was a god.

  He moved his arm up onto the backrest and angled his body toward me. “Where did you come from, Ivy?” he asked, leaning toward me so that his breath washed over the side of my neck.

  I swallowed. “I’m here with Bleeding Moonlight. My brother, Cole, is the bassist. I’m on tour with you for two weeks.”

  His tongue snaked over a piercing in his bottom lip and my entire body shivered in response.

  “When did you arrive?”

  “Only yesterday.”

  “Just dipping your toes into all of this, then?” He tipped his head toward the center of the room.

  “Yeah. It’s…different from what I’m used to.”

  “Intimidating?” he asked in a tone that was laced with humor. Normally, a pointed question like that from a stranger would elicit a hasty lie, but I felt like he’d know I was lying. His eyes were piercing right through me.

  “A little,” I admitted.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “We’re not all as scary as we seem.” For a moment, his attention flickered to Jamie. “Two weeks, huh? That’s plenty to get to know each other better.”

  Heat spread across my chest. He wanted to know me?

  Don’t get your hopes up. He’s just being nice.

  He waited for me to respond, but all I could muster up was another dazed smile. For a second, his expression turned contemplative, but before I could even guess at what he was thinking, he turned and raised his hand to wave someone over. “Let me get you a drink.”

  Telling him I didn’t drink was out of the question. While his attention was away from me, I allowed myself to gorge on his appearance, stuffing every detail into memory until my senses were overwhelmed with him. His skin was smooth, like silk, only a little hair scattered over his muscular arms. He wore a black shirt that molded to his chest, with the sleeves rolled up to show off the tattoos on his arms. The scent of his cologne tickled my nose, something sweet yet masculine, dangerous yet inviting. He was so different, so undeniably exciting, that I thought I could happily spend the rest of the evening just staring at him.

  The waiter came and left, and soon Oliver’s gaze was back on me. “So how did you convince Cole to bring you on this tour?”

  “Didn’t have to do much convincing, to be honest. He agreed pretty easily. My parents thought I’d likely benefit from getting more exposure to…” I trailed off as my brain caught up with what was coming out of my mouth. Where was I even going with this? Did I really need to share with this man how boring my life had been up to this point?

  “Cultural events,” he offered with a knowing smirk that told me he knew he was saving me from embarrassment. “Yes, we’re a pretty sophisticated bunch here. As you can see, my colleague Jamie is currently demonstrating a novel mating ritual that involves trying to leave the maximum amount of saliva on another person’s neck.”

  A laugh burst out of me. It was a loud sound that landed during a downtempo part of the song, and to my surprise, Jamie lifted his head away from the woman and looked directly at me.

  Our eyes met and I held his gaze, emboldened by Oliver’s remark. The blonde began clawing at his leg, her fake nails glittering against the dark fabric of his pants, apparently distressed over the loss of his tongue. Jamie’s face twisted into a frown. I thought he didn’t recognize me—it wouldn’t have been much of a surprise given everything I knew about him—but then he narrowed his eyes at me, and I thought maybe he did recognize me after all.

  “Hey.” Oliver trailed his fingertips in a soft line along the edge of my jaw, leaving sparks in their wake, and I flicked my gaze back to him “I heard about what happened,” he said, lowering his hand back down to his side. “I want to apologize on his behalf, since I know he won’t. It was unacceptable for him to accost you like that.”

  Wow. I wasn’t expecting that. Given that one of Jamie’s handlers in the dressing room thought I was a willing participant, I would’ve assumed the rest of Jamie’s bandmates would think the same. But Oliver didn’t.

  “You don’t need to do that,” I said. “His actions are his own.”

  “You’re right, but I can’t help it,” he said with a shrug. “I’ve spent many years now apologizing for his mistakes. And trust me when I say that not everyone is as gracious as you are when it comes to being forgiving.”

  “I could tell he was very drunk,” I said. “Not that it’s an excuse, but he didn’t really do anything to me, and when Cole ran in, I was more worried for Jamie than for myself. Your bandmate didn’t look well.”

  Oliver pursed his lips in distaste. “I wish I could say I’m surprised, but I’d probably be more shocked if you said he was sober.”

  “My brother was furious.”

  “Rightly so,” Oliver agreed, and swept his gaze over my face. “I heard you’re the one who managed to talk him down. I appreciate it. Saved me from cleaning up an even bigger mess. You seem exceptionally levelheaded for someone who looks so young.”

  Everything in me fluttered in pleasure at his words.

  “How old are you?” he asked.

  “I’m twenty-one,” I said in a weak voice.

  Oliver smirked. “I think you’re lying to me, Cole’s sister. But don’t worry, I like liars. They keep things interesting.” His green eyes glistened with amusement.

  The waiter returned with our drinks, and Oliver handed me a tall flute filled with a bubbly liquid.

  “I hope you like champagne,” he said, his lips spreading into a smile so breathtaking it deserved to be painted and admired in a museum. “The best bottle they had to celebrate our new friendship. I have a feeling we’re going to be good friends, Ivy.”

  “I’d like that,” I stammered and took the glass from him with a trembling hand. A bright-pink raspberry was bouncing gently in the liquid. I thought it looked like a heart. I wished so badly that everyone around us would just disappear. I wanted to stay with him in this moment forever, undisturbed and uninterrupted by anyone else.

  Oliver tilted his head slightly toward me and raised his glass. “To new friends.”

  We drank and placed our glasses down on the coffee table. His hand grazed against mine, and for a heartbeat, it stayed there, as if he wanted to prolong the accidental touch. Just the thought of that made my toes curl. The possibility that someone like him would be interested in someone like me seemed utterly life changing.

  “Where did you grow up?” he asked, leaning back into the sofa. He looked completely at ease, as if he spent much of his time in places like this, while I sat with my spine as straight as an arrow, unsure of what to do with my now-empty hands.

  “A small town in Pennsylvania. I’m going to UCLA in a few weeks.”

  “I love LA,” he said.

  Eager hope bloomed inside of me. “Do you live there?”

  He shook his head, his tousled hair falling into his face. “No. I live in New York, but I visit LA often. We record our a
lbums in a studio downtown.”

  “Are you going to be working on a new album after the tour?”

  “Maybe.” He shrugged. “Depends on whether Jamie can get his shit together.”

  I looked over at the singer who was back to making out with the woman by his side. To my surprise, he didn’t seem as lost in the act as he did when I first came into the room, and from time to time his gaze landed back on us, even as his tongue was deep down her throat.

  “Why does he keep looking here?” I asked Oliver.

  “He probably wants to do more of whatever he’s on tonight, and he knows I’ll be pissed if he does it in front of me.”

  I held back a shudder and wondered once more why Jamie hadn’t been checked into rehab by now, but Cole’s earlier words about staying out of band business stopped me from prying. Instead, I moved to what seemed like a safer topic. “Does he write your music?”

  Oliver laughed. “God, no. I write most of our songs. But he’s the voice, the signature part of our sound, so we can’t do much without him. I can write the best songs in the world, but if he’s too fucked up to sing them well, the critics won’t hesitate to tear us apart.”

  “I’m sorry, that must be frustrating.” I didn’t envy the position Oliver was in.

  “Hey—” he leaned in toward me, “—you told me not to apologize for him. Don’t you go and do the same thing.” He moved a crooked finger against my cheek, and I held his gaze as heat rushed straight to my core.

  “You know, you’re a lot more collected than our female fans,” he said in a low voice. “Usually, by now, I’d be prying their hands off me.”

  Blood rushed to my cheeks. “I’m not like that.” As if I’d ever find the courage to openly flirt with him.

  “I can see that.” He smirked. “Do you like our music?”

  I cleared my throat and tried to gather my thoughts. “I’ve only heard a few songs, but I liked them a lot.”

  “Ah, that explains it. But maybe you’re lying again, about liking them.”

  “No, I mean it,” I insisted. “I want to listen to more of your stuff.”

  He tilted his head to the side, amusement spelled out clearly across his features. “All right, I’ll trust you on that one. You’re going to be keeping me on my toes, aren’t you?”

  “I can try,” I said, unable to keep myself from staring at his perfect lips. I wanted to run my thumb over them and feel their softness, as if to reassure myself they were real. What would it feel like to kiss them?

  “I’m going to hold you to it,” he said with a nod. “Let’s drink to that, shall we?”

  I stole a glance at him over the rim of my glass and caught him looking back at me intently. Shivers ran down my spine. There was something here, something that wasn’t one sided. He said he wanted to be my friend, but I’ve never had a friend who looked at me like that.

  My phone vibrated in my purse. Shit. Had Cole noticed I was missing?

  I pulled out the device and glanced down at the screen. It was Zoey.

  “Pics?! Or have you died and gone to heaven?”

  “Everything all right?” Oliver asked from beside me.

  “Yes. Just my friends checking in.”

  “Are they here with you?”

  I shook my head. “No, they’re messaging me from back home. They are very…curious about this whole thing,” I said, waving at the room.

  Oliver chuckled. “I imagine they must be quite jealous. Not many twenty-one-year olds get to experience this.”

  I shot him a nervous look. It was a stupid lie, and he’d obviously seen right through it. “Seventeen,” I confessed. “My eighteenth birthday is in a week and a half.”

  I thought I saw something triumphant flicker in his eyes at my admission. Then it was gone.

  “Ah. Got any big plans?” he asked, leaning over to pour us more champagne. I was starting to feel it, but I made no move to stop him. I took it as a welcome indication that he was enjoying our conversation and wanted me to stay.

  “Not really. I suppose this tour is the big plan.”

  “It’s your eighteenth birthday, beautiful. I think it needs to be special.”

  My heart was pounding in my ears. Beautiful. He had just called me beautiful. Was this really happening?

  He placed his hand on my knee. “Let’s take a picture for your friends. Show them how much fun you’re having.” He trailed his finger in a slow circle on my kneecap.

  I reached back into my purse for my phone with a trembling hand. Oliver seemed oblivious to my reaction to him, scooting closer until our thighs were pressed against each other. He took my phone and wrapped his other arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer until his scent had filled my nose. I thought I might combust in flames.

  I gave the camera a dazed smile, while he took a few shots. He handed the device back. “Have a look.”

  In the picture, Oliver’s mouth was twisted into a sinfully sexy smirk, his arm slung around me. I was molded to him, and my pretty red dress stood out against his dark clothes. The smile I’d thought would be awkward seemed natural on my face. It was as if by the force of his own godly presence, I was shining brighter as well.

  “We look good together, don’t we?” he whispered just above my ear.

  “Yeah, we do.” I swallowed. “You look amazing.”

  He laughed, amused by my breathless admission. I tried to compose myself as heat rushed to my cheeks. The champagne was loosening me up, and I knew that if I kept drinking, I’d probably say something even worse.

  “I should get back to the other guys,” I said and slipped my phone into my purse.

  “No need to run off,” he said with a chuckle. “I’m glad I finally got some reaction out of you. This whole time, I thought my charms might be waning.”

  Was this a game for him? Everything inside of me dropped at the thought. No, it couldn’t be. Even my brother said he was a good guy.

  “I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” I muttered.

  “Ah, that’s reassuring.” He smoothed the front of his shirt, his chin slightly raised, as he watched me stand up. “But you’re still leaving?”

  “Cole’s probably looking for me.”

  Oliver cocked a brow. “I wouldn’t hold your breath for that. Let’s just say…he was having fun in the bathroom with someone when I first got in.”

  A frown settled on my face. So much for Cole being worried about me. I knew I should be happy about it—it meant I’d get the freedom I so desperately craved—but instead, I felt a pinprick of hurt. My brother clearly cared more about his road wife than his sister.

  “Well, the others might be looking too,” I said lamely.

  “Okay. If you ever need any friendly company, you know where to find me.” Oliver extended his hand.

  I placed my hand in his and watched in stunned silence as he placed a soft kiss on my burning hot skin.

  When he let go, I clutched my hand to my chest, as if trying to guard whatever trace his kiss had left behind.

  The smirk reappeared on his face. “I’ll see you around.”

  “Bye,” I stammered and turned to exit the room. In the other corner, Jamie was watching us, still entangled with the woman from before, his eyes glassy and as dark as tar.

  We left the club without Cole, who appeared to have gone off somewhere. Since we weren’t driving tonight, I assumed he’d find his way back to the bus at some point. Ezra had his arm around me as we walked back to the vehicle, claiming I looked cold, but I was pretty sure it was because he was struggling to walk straight. His heavy body pressed down on mine, making me stumble on the pavement.

  “You have a good time, Ivy?” he asked, his words slightly slurred. “I didn’t see you for a bit back there. Where did you go off to?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, you were too busy doing shots. I went into one of the back rooms.” A moment passed. “I met Oliver.”

  “Oh,” Ezra vocalized, his tone growing higher. “He’s a nic
e guy. Very talented. He wrote all of Ritual Disruption’s songs. I wish he’d write something with us, but he’s known for never collaborating with anyone.”

  Maybe this was my chance to get more information. “Do you know him well?”

  “Personally? Nah. We’ve just chatted a bit here and there.”

  I bit on my bottom lip as we moved closer to the bus. “He seems the complete opposite of Jamie.”

  “Mmm. I think they go way back. Like your brother and I. That kinda history makes you put up with all kinds of shit from people,” Ezra said before abruptly pulling away from me.

  I looked at him in alarm. “What’s wrong?”

  The drummer swayed on his feet. “I’m going to be sick. Overindulged a bit today. You go on up, Ivy. I’ll see you mañana.”

  He did look a little green. I rolled my eyes at him again and marched back on the bus.

  Why couldn’t I have played it a bit more cool around Oliver? We look good together. He’d teased me, and I’d taken the bait like an amateur. Still, he hadn’t seemed to want me to leave, so maybe he didn’t think I was as silly as I had felt.

  I climbed into my bunk before the rest of the guys got back on the bus. Light snores came from a few feet away. Must be Ran, since he didn’t come out tonight. I stuck my headphones into my ears to block him out.

  Ritual Disruption’s first album had come out eight years ago. The first song started to play, and I pulled up the lyrics on my phone. It was a hauntingly beautiful melody, much like the man who wrote it. I wanted to listen to all of their albums and to discover the pieces of himself he’d hidden in his songs. I wanted to discover everything there was to know about my new friend Oliver.

  I woke up as the bus started moving in the morning. We were driving to Oakland for the next show, and the venue was only forty-five minutes from where the bus had been parked in SOMA.

  No one else was up, likely sleeping off their hangovers, and Cole hadn’t returned to the bus at all. The curtain to his bunk was pulled open, showing a messy bed, his over-the-ear headphones, and a few magazines wrinkled in the corner. I shook my head and made my way to the kitchen to make some coffee.