by Scott, S. L.
DARE
A Rock Star Hero
S.L. SCOTT
S.L. Scott
Copyright © 2019 by S.L. Scott
All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the written permission of the author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Published in the United States of America
ISBN: 978-1-940071-92-3
Cover Design: RBA Designs
Photographer: Rafa G. Catala
Model: Anselmo Menéndez Arias
Jenny Sims, Editing4Indies
Marion Archer, Making Manuscripts
Marla Esposito, Proofing Style
Kristen Johnson, Proofreader
Team Readers: Lynsey Johnson and Andrea Johnston
Awesome Person I bugged with law school questions: Vi Keeland
About the Author
To keep up to date with her writing and more, her website is www.slscottauthor.com to receive her newsletter with all of her publishing adventures and giveaways, sign up for her newsletter: http://bit.ly/2TheScoop
Instagram: S.L.Scott
To receive a free book now, TEXT “slscott” to 77948
For more information, please visit:
https://www.slscottauthor.com/
Also by S.L. SCOTT
To keep up to date with her writing and more, visit her website: www.slscottauthor.com
To receive the Scott Scoop about all of her publishing adventures, free books, giveaways, steals and more, sign up here: http://bit.ly/2TheScoop
Join S.L.’s Facebook group here: S.L. Scott Books
Audiobooks on Audible - CLICK HERE
Hard to Resist Series (Stand-Alones)
The Resistance
The Reckoning
The Redemption
The Revolution
The Rebellion
The Crow Brothers (Stand-Alones)
Spark
Tulsa
Rivers
Ridge
The Crow Brothers Box Set
The Everest Brothers (Stand-Alones)
Everest - Ethan Everest
Bad Reputation - Hutton Everest
Force of Nature - Bennett Everest
The Everest Brothers Box Set
The Kingwood Series
SAVAGE
SAVIOR
SACRED
SOLACE - Stand-Alone
The Kingwood Series Box Set
Playboy in Paradise Series
Falling for the Playboy
Redeeming the Playboy
Loving the Playboy
Playboy in Paradise Box Set
Talk to Me Duet (Stand-Alones)
Sweet Talk
Dirty Talk
Stand-Alone Books
Missing Grace
Until I Met You
Drunk on Love
Naturally, Charlie
A Prior Engagement
Lost in Translation
Sleeping with Mr. Sexy
Morning Glory
From the Inside Out
My Next Release is coming: Click Here
For the man that captured my heart the moment we met. My past. My present. My forever.
Flirt.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Epilogue One
Epilogue Two
Spark
Prologue
Acknowledgments
Also by S.L. SCOTT
Prologue
Dare
Beauty attracts the eye, but the soul captures the heart.
That quote was part of a fading mural painted on the side of a laundromat my mom used to take me to on Saturday mornings. Eleven-year-olds don’t understand that concept. We take people at face value. After my mom explained what it meant, she took a picture of it and hung it on the fridge right next to the photo of her dream house.
The dropped paint cans clang and roll into the bend of the street as I stand in front of the house eight years later. I take a couple of steps back, trying to find satisfaction in the graffiti. The art doesn’t ease an ounce of my grief, but it does remind me of some of the memories I have of her. Of that time.
My mom and I drove by this house a million times. She loved the architecture, which she was studying in night school back then. We didn’t have much, but driving the streets of Austin to see the eclectic styles of this city was a free form of entertainment. It was our thing.
An ivy-covered brick wall hid many of the details of the 1930s Mediterranean-inspired mansion, but it was always worth the stop on our tour of homes. She once put me on her shoulders so I could take a photo of the house. Right when the camera snapped, a girl, not older than I was, popped her head into the frame. After what felt like five minutes of the Spanish Inquisition, she invited us to tour the grounds.
I followed my mother, and the girl followed me, peppering me with questions.
“Your shirt has a hole near the sleeve. Did you get in a fight?”
I glanced at my sleeve to see I’ve ruined another shirt. My mom won’t be happy. “Yeah, sure.”
“How old are you?”
“Eleven. You?”
“Nine last Friday.”
“Good for you.”
“We should get married one day. I’ll be queen of the castle, and you can be my prince.”
The girl, a nosy and pesky little thing in pigtails and heart-shaped sunglasses, had her head stuck in fairy tales like they were real. They aren’t. At least not for me. Judging by this huge yard and big house, maybe they are for her. “Why not king?”
“Because kings trump queens, and I want to rule. We can take turns if you like. What’s your name?”
“Rob.”
“Rob is a nice name. Did you know it’s short for Robert?”
“Yeah. It’s my name.”
Not missing a beat, she rambled on. “My dad works with a Bob. I don’t like him or the name Bob.”
“Good to know.” When she tucked her sunglasses into her hair, I looked at her blue eyes that were too big for her head and how wild her hair was despite her efforts to tame it with yellow ribbons. Something about her had me wanting to warn her to be more careful. “My mom always told me to beware of strangers. You might not want to go on telling everything about yourself, you know.”
“You’re not a stranger. You’re Robert.”
�
�Rob.”
She grinned, not letting anything distract her glee.
I shook my head. She’d never make it a day in my neighborhood. I couldn’t worry about her safety, though. I just hoped she didn’t make this a regular thing, or she’d eventually run into a stranger like my father. He’s a taker—escaping virtue and living on vice—and was not a good man.
My mother got the photo she wanted, and then we left. But not before the brown-haired girl, hanging onto the black wrought-iron gate as it reopened, asked, “Don’t you want to know my name?”
From all the questions she’s asked, I’d already nicknamed her in my head. My mother was already getting into the car, but I stopped just shy of the street and turned back anyway. “Don’t talk to strangers, Pepper.”
“Pepper?” She raised her chin in the air, a bigger grin than I’d seen so far on her face. “I love Pepper.” Her face scrunched. “Why Pepper?”
“Because you ask a lot of questions.”
The girl had kind of grown on me by that point because of her friendliness and the way she looked at me like I’d saved her day. I wanted to give her something in return, but my pockets were empty. The laundromat quote was all I’d brought with me. “Beauty attracts the eye, but the soul captures the heart. You have that in spades.”
With her hands clasped over her chest, she grinned, showing off the spaces in the front from newly lost teeth. “I’ll remember that forever, Robert, but what’s spades?”
“I have no idea. The principal said I have spades too, but I was in trouble at the time, so I’m not sure if it’s the same spades you’ve got.”
“I hope it’s the same.” If it had been night, I would have sworn I saw stars in her eyes, soaking in the attention we’d given her. I think it was just the sun that made them watery when we were leaving. The gate closed, but she remained peering through the bars. “We’ll have spades together. Okay?”
“Sure,” I added through the open car window.
When we started to drive away, she yelled, “See you again someday, Robert.”
“See ya, Pepper.” I watched her in the side mirror as we drove away. Her arm still waving so hard that she could flag a plane down. “She was weird.” I glanced at my mom, who started laughing.
“I thought she was adorable. I know it’s hard to believe, but one day, girls won’t seem so weird to you, Robert.”
“That is hard to believe.”
Her laughter picked up, and although she didn’t say any more on the matter, she had a smile on her face the whole drive home.
Before the tears have a chance to fall, I look up. I can still hear my mom so clearly in my head. It makes me wonder how long before I forget the sound of her voice.
Exhaling, trying to release some of the grief, I take a picture of the red brick wall where I spray-painted the quote, and leave before I get busted.
When I get home, I print the photo and stick it under a magnet on the fridge next to the pictures my mom once hung—the laundromat, the house, and the photo of that girl.
1
Weatherly
Six years later . . .
It takes my mind a few seconds to figure out what I’m watching and to process what I already know deep down. But to see it in person, to have it confirmed . . . it takes a moment for the pieces to connect—Lloyd weighted over a dark-haired woman, howling like a coyote as he orgasms.
I don’t slink away in shame as if I caused this, despite knowing he’ll manage to blame me somehow. I’m not even upset, not like I should be for catching my boyfriend having sex with another woman.
A little numb but all around, I’m doing all right. Relief is not the emotion I expected to feel when this day came, but I appreciate it. When, not if. I knew it was only a matter of time.
I don’t love Lloyd Sanders. There. I finally admit it, though only to myself, but that’s a start. My shoulders feel lighter as I leave the party, walking down the stairs toward the front door of the house. As soon as my feet touch the sidewalk, I feel a bounce to my step as though my problems are behind me.
Literally. “Goodbye for good,” I say to no one in particular. It just feels good to say it out loud.
“Weatherly?” My name is called. When I look back, my friend Stascia is standing on the grand steps of her parents’ large white colonial home. “Where are you going?”
“Home.” I shrug unapologetically.
“Party pooper.” She huffs and crosses her arms over her chest. “Well, if you’re leaving me, have you seen April?”
“Not in a while. She told me she was changing into her bathing suit earlier.”
“I’ll check upstairs. Call me tomorrow?”
“I will.” I hurry to my car, running my finger over the spotless silver finish of my Tesla as I move around to the driver’s side. The door opens automatically, and I slide inside, pretending I don’t hear my name flying from Lloyd’s mouth as he comes rushing across the lawn. I’m grateful for a lot of things in life, but a quick getaway is topping the list right now.
He won’t follow since he’s not wearing anything but his tighty-whities.
The warm night air whips through the car as one of my favorite Crow Brothers songs blares through the rolled down windows as I leave the sleepy neighborhood and head back downtown toward my apartment. The drive isn’t far, but I don’t want to go home because being alone isn’t appealing right now. A mini celebration might be in order since there’s no way I’ll be able to focus enough to study.
Now no one can say I didn’t give this relationship a solid try, my best effort to make something work that was doomed from the start. The pressure of disappointing others kept me in it, but I’m driving away with my head held high. I can’t say I feel great about this victory, but thank God we never had sex. At twenty-three, I was made to feel ashamed for holding onto a part of me that is solely mine to give.
Lloyd Sanders was not exactly the man of my dreams. Maybe I’ve overthought the whole virginity thing. By how my friends and Lloyd sleep around, it clearly is not a big deal. I should just do it and get it over with. Find some hot guy to lose myself in for a few minutes . . . hours?
In a garage one block off Sixth Street, I park and pay. The sound of music—jazz, rap, hard hitting drums, and what sounds like karaoke—fills my ears before I reach the corner of the lively street. A group of skaters smoke weed at a bus stop, so I walk around, not wanting the contact high. Stopping on the cobbled road, I look both ways, not sure where I want to go.
Through the window of a bar across the street, a band is on stage, and the beat sounds great, so I head that way. “Who’s playing tonight?” I ask the bouncer as I pay the cover.
Glancing at his watch, he replies, “The Heroes are on stage headlining. They only have about five minutes left so cover is half price.”
“Thanks.” I work my way through the crowd and reach the far side of the bar to stand on my tiptoes to see the band.
The bartender leans across the wood bar top, and asks, “What are you drinking?”
I can’t see much from back here, so with pursed lips, I scan over the selection of bottles behind him instead. “I don’t know. What do you suggest?”
“How about a blow job?” Shock hits me and my mouth falls open. His hands fly in front of him, and he adds, “No, the drink. The drink! A blow job shot.”
A shot? “Oh,” I reply, still on edge.
“I just served a group of girls in a bachelorette party. They loved them, and they’re easy to make, so it popped into my head.”
“I think I’ll have a beer. Corona Light if you have it.”
He turns and opens the cooler as the music ends. A cold bottle is placed in front of me. “I didn’t mean that to sound like it did. This is on me.”
“It’s okay.” I laugh. “And you don’t have to give me the beer.”
I reach into my purse, but he says, “No, my treat. I was going to ask if you were single before completely blowing it with the blow job suggestion.�
�
He is kind of cute, and now that I know what he meant, it was funny. “I’m sorry—”
“Hey Jake, got a beer back there for me?” A man taps the counter next to me, stealing the bartender’s attention. I can’t say I’m too upset as the heat from my face drains away.
The bartender laughs, clearly friends with the guy. “I have about five bought and paid for. You have a few fans tonight.” Then he looks back at me and gives me a little smile.
The guy next to me says, “Didn’t mean to interrupt—Oh! It’s you.” Turning his gaze down, he squeezes his eyes closed and shakes his head. When his eyes reopen, I’m hit with intentions that hold me to the stop, staring deep into questioning caramel eyes.
Jake leans in. “Fuck, I wish you had another song to play.” His reply is jovial but direct. “I was just about to get her number.”
Swept up in the moment, I forget where I am as something else, a familiarity, takes over. My next breath comes hard, and my heart is pounding in my ears. “It’s me?” I whisper.