Turn up the Tempo (Lyrical Odyssey Rock Star Series Book 4)

by Charli B. Rose

  Gently, I laid her down on the bed. Once I divested myself of the rest of my clothes, I lowered myself on top of her. My cock thickened and throbbed where it rested against her thigh. But I ignored it, determined to do exactly what I’d vowed to her moments ago. She was worth doing this for. Whatever we could have in the future was worth it.

  “You’re amazing,” she whispered up at me.

  She made me feel amazing. I shook my head. “I’m amazed by you.” I eased my body down on top of hers until we were hip to hip, chest to chest, lip to lip and heart to heart.

  ♪ Amazed by Lonestar

  As her lips opened to my questing tongue, I dove in. I took my time making love to her mouth with mine. And we kissed like that until our lips tingled and our eyes grew heavy. My heart and soul were one hundred percent content as we drifted off.

  Chapter 27

  Britt

  Outside, the sky was starting to lighten. A pinkish-orange tint creeped across it, showing a hint of clouds drifting beyond the windows. Beneath my ear, Brooks’s heart thudded rhythmically. I felt like I needed to pinch myself to prove I hadn’t dreamed the past twenty-four hours. Yesterday was amazing. I’d never had a date like that before—or a night like last night. As much as I never imagined I’d be in this frame of mind, after the past twenty-four hours, I could see myself doing the whole relationship thing with Brooks. And I wasn’t ready to run for the hills.

  My skin tingled deliciously where his scruff had rubbed it during the night. I was sure I had whisker burn on my cheeks, neck and chest. I ran my tongue over my lips. They were swollen from spending hours plastered to Brooks’s. He wasn’t lying when he said he planned to spend the whole night kissing me. Last night as we connected emotionally through kissing, the intimacy was something I’d never experienced before. We actually fell asleep kissing. And randomly during the night one of us would wake up and initiate another make out session. It was … special.

  “Good morning, angel,” Brooks murmured huskily in my ear.

  I lifted my head from his chest so I could look at him. He took my breath away. His hair was sleep tousled. It was so sexy. Those gorgeous green eyes glittered up at me. “Good morning, handsome,” I whispered back.

  His thumb traced a swath of skin on my cheek. “Before we do this again, I’ll make sure to shave so my scruff doesn’t irritate your beautiful skin.”

  “You want to spend another night just kissing me?” I asked.

  “I do. But not tonight because I think I’ll die of blue balls if we do this again too soon. But being wrapped up in you … like this … and connecting with you like that was … magical. And I’m a fan of magic. I think it’s worth experiencing again. Every so often.” He combed his fingers through my tangled hair.

  His arm that rested along my waist tightened, pressing the softness of my body against the hardness of his. Though the morning air was cool coming in through the partially opened window, I was warm and toasty under the covers with Brooks. As a matter of fact, I was becoming more heated the longer he stared at me with those intense eyes.

  “Tonight, I want to take you on a date somewhere nice, fancy,” he said.

  “Another date? Who are you, and what did you do with the Brooks I met almost a year ago?” I teased.

  “I’m right here, angel.” His cock twitched against my leg.

  “Yes, you are,” I mumbled and shifted my body from where I lay beside him so that I was straddling him. “And the sun’s up, so now you can do more than kiss me.”

  “Is that right?” he teased, thrusting his hips just enough that his erection slid along my slit, bumping my clit deliciously.

  “Please.” I didn’t even care that my voice held a note of whining. I wasn’t too proud to beg Brooks for what I wanted. And I wanted him. Now.

  ♪ Ain’t 2 Proud 2 Beg by TLC

  “Since you asked so nicely,” he said, reaching to the side of the bed for his jeans. Moments later he joined our bodies, and though the night had ended, his gentle thrusts alternating with punishing deep ones were enough to make me see stars.

  The way we moved together was perfection. Hope and happiness filled me as I peered down at the enigma of a man who’d engraved his mark inside me.

  I stretched blissfully out on the mattress. My body felt boneless after all the pleasure Brooks had rained on me as the sun rose. And now he was downstairs fixing me breakfast. He truly was one of a kind.

  A chirping sound came from somewhere on the floor. I was too blissed out to move, so I ignored it. The phone went off again.

  And again.

  Whoever was trying to reach Brooks was pretty persistent. It wasn’t even nine yet. Maybe it was an emergency. I rolled over and reached for his pants. I grinned, picturing Brooks downstairs cooking breakfast in just his boxer briefs. Maybe I needed to go supervise.

  His phone vibrated again in my hand. I turned it over. The screen blinked with the notification that he’d missed several texts. I palmed it as I sat up, intending to take it to him. Somehow, I woke his phone up. The screen lit up with several missed texts from Elle. I knew I shouldn’t read them, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.

  Elle: Thanks for coming the other day.

  Elle: It meant a lot that you were here. That you stayed and helped sort things out.

  Elle: You’re not answering your phone.

  Elle: I really need you to pick up.

  Elle: Call me when you get this.

  Elle: It’s important.

  Elle: Please.

  A lump lodged itself in my throat. Hastily, I swiped so the messages wouldn’t be on the screen when I handed his phone over. My clumsy fingers managed to open a different text thread. This one from Misty. The messages were from yesterday.

  Misty: I miss you.

  Misty: I need you.

  Misty: Please.

  Misty: I love you.

  Me: I miss you and love you too. I’ll see you soon.

  Tears gathered in my eyes. My emotions were all over the place. I knew he was completely present with me on our date yesterday and last night … and this morning. There was no way he could’ve been faking all that with me.

  Was there?

  His reply to Misty had gone through before we’d gotten home last night. Why did he message her then spend the night making me feel loved and cherished?

  I angrily swiped at my eyes and tugged Brooks’s long-sleeved T-shirt over my head. It was stupid to wrap myself in his scent. But for some reason I felt like being stupid this morning. I was going to ignore the messages and go downstairs to watch the man—who wanted me enough to spend the night kissing me—cook me breakfast.

  I considered leaving his phone on the bed or even hiding it from him. But then it started ringing in my hand. “Crazy Bitch” played shrilly. I used to love the song. Now, not so much.

  Clutching the cell in my hand, I strode down the stairs. By the time I reached the kitchen, the song had stopped. I admired the flex of Brooks’s back muscles as he stood at the stove, stirring something.

  Then the infuriating device started ringing again. It caught Brooks’s attention. He turned around. I held up his phone. “Your phone’s been going off. I thought it might be important.”

  He moved the frying pan off the burner before he strode over to me so he could answer it.

  “Hey,” he answered. He started scooping eggs onto a plate.

  Brooks was quiet as he listened. His eyes grew wide. The pan clattered to the stovetop. “OK. I’ll be there soon. Promise.”

  Then he disconnected and tossed his phone onto the counter. His shoulders slumped and he dragged his fingers through his hair in frustration. When he turned around to face me, sadness made his green eyes look gray. Defeat and regret rolled off him in palpable waves.

  “I’ve got to go.” The words were devoid of emotion. He didn’t give me a chance to respond. Instead, he disappeared up the stairs.

  Part of me wanted to chase after him. To demand answers. To shout and rail
at him. But I refused to give in. I wasn’t his girlfriend, so I had no right. Now I had to do the only thing I could to protect myself. I started fortifying my walls again. Hardening my heart.

  As I gave myself an internal pep talk, heavy footsteps pounded down the stairs. Brooks stepped over to where I sat at the table, my heart heavy and forlorn. He wore a deep red shirt and jeans. Black leather cloaked him. His duffle bag hung limply by his side. He gripped my shoulder with his other hand.

  I ignored the sorrow and guilt on his face.

  “I’m sorry to bail on you again. But I have to leave. It’s an emergency. I’ll call you when I can.” Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to the top of my head. Then he was gone, leaving me to feel like a fool.

  The desire to shout and throw things welled up inside me. But instead of doing either of those things, I did something worse. Something so much worse.

  I sat in the corner of the couch, the corner I liked to think of as Brooks’s corner since he always sat there, holding me, and cried my eyes out. I sobbed, wailed and ugly cried, letting all my pain and heartache pour out.

  ♪ Edge of a Broken Heart by Vixen

  When the doorbell rang, I swiped at my cheeks, mopping the worst of the tearstains away. But I knew my eyes were going to be red and puffy. They’d stay like this for hours. Oh well. Maybe that would encourage whoever was at the door to go away.

  I shuffled my way to the front entryway and threw it open. Briefly, I met Wilder’s gaze before I dropped my head, not wanting to look at him. I sagged against the edge of the door, which I grasped in my hand. “What are you doing here, Wilder?” I sighed.

  His feet shuffled against the wood of the porch as he shifted his weight. “I don’t mean to intrude. I promise it won’t take me but a minute. I just need to grab my guitar from the studio. I’m not here to interfere or anything. I just … needed to play, you know, sort myself out. But I left my guitar here last time I jammed with the guys.” His voice trembled with emotion and unsaid words.

  Slowly, I stepped back, swinging the door open wide so he could enter. Listlessly, I wandered back to the living room. I didn’t turn around when the door clicked shut behind me or when Wilder’s feet strode down the hallway to the basement stairs.

  I flopped back on the couch. Moments later, Wilder was back.

  “Thanks. I’m outta here.”

  I peeked up at him. He stared at me.

  “Britt? What’s wrong? Where’s Brooks?” he asked, quietly sinking to the couch.

  “I’m such an idiot,” I whispered.

  “No, you’re not,” he argued, frowning at me. “Now tell me what happened.”

  “Oh, nothing major except I’m falling for a man who keeps disappearing every time we get closer. A man who leaves without explanation. A man who gets mysterious phone calls and texts from other women and then goes to them when they ask for him,” my voice rose in pitch with each word I spoke until Lyric was barking in concern at my feet. Absentmindedly, I petted her head, trying to soothe her. Soothe myself.

  Wilder drew me into his arms. The comfort of his touch unleashed a new torrent of tears.

  “He can’t help it. You know, I don’t think a player can ever stop playing the game,” I whispered into his chest where my cries had dampened his T-shirt. “I don’t think either of us can quit the game,” I said so softly, I wasn’t sure Wilder heard me.

  I knew it could be argued that I was a player too. Or worse since I didn’t do relationships, and I enjoyed casual hookups. Brooks and I were alike in many ways. Maybe changing was impossible for either of us. Maybe wanting more with him was just some whimsical fantasy.

  ♪ Private Parts by Halestorm

  Chapter 28

  Brooks

  Panic made my heart race as I weaved in and out of traffic on the way to LAX. When I checked all the voicemails and texts I’d missed—since the early morning hours while I was so wrapped up in Brittany that I didn’t even hear my phone—horrifying news greeted me. Mom had somehow managed to set her house on fire, and she was in the hospital. My conversation with Brielle had been very short and lacking details.

  But even though my mind was already in Ohio, my heart was back at Dawson’s, watching Brittany’s face fill with disappointment and sorrow. Each time I drew closer to her, something got in the way and pushed us apart. Disappointing her hurt me. A lot. I wasn’t used to caring so much. Hell, I wasn’t used to caring at all really.

  ♪ Here Without You by 3 Doors Down

  I knew I shouldn’t keep letting Brittany get injured by being in my orbit. She deserved better than that. Better than me if I was honest with myself.

  For the entire five-hour flight, I argued with myself about what I should or shouldn’t do where Britt was concerned. At the very least, it distracted me from worrying about my mom. But the entire thing was an exercise in futility because I was clueless about what was right. I only knew that my heart ached every time I envisioned her face when I left.

  When the plane landed, I powered my phone on and navigated to Brittany’s contact info. I didn’t know what to say except one thing. The rest was a jumbled mess of emotion and confusion knotted in my head.

  Me: I’m sorry

  I stared at my phone, waiting for her to message me back, even if it was to tell me to go to hell. But she didn’t. I sat, staring, willing those dancing dots to appear. An airline attendant finally encouraged me to disembark. I did, slowly, with my bag and phone in hand. I constantly checked my phone as I climbed in the back of a cab and was driven to the hospital, hoping to hear back from her. But she was either busy or ignoring me. I deserved the latter. My head dropped back against the worn cloth seat in defeat.

  When the cab pulled up to the main entrance to the hospital, I paid the driver and then dashed inside. Before I could demand the receptionist point me in the direction of Mom’s room, Brielle came down the hallway.

  Her face was tear-stained, and her clothes were smudged with dirt. She rushed into my arms. The scent of smoke lingered on her. I held her tightly while she cried.

  “How’s Mom?” I croaked out.

  “They’re doing some tests, but she was awake when they came to get her.” Brielle sniffled then swiped her hand across her face, smearing soot across her cheek.

  I led her over to a quiet corner, hidden away from the rest of the bustle of the waiting room. Once I dropped my bag onto the floor, I took both of her hands in mine. “What happened, Sis?”

  Brielle shook her head. “I don’t know the whole story. Dad called me upset late yesterday. Mom went to the grocery store. While she was there, she ran into Dad and Amelia, shopping.”

  “Shit.” I thrust my fingers in my hair in frustration.

  “Dad said at first Mom was excited to see him. But she was a little upset that he was ruining her surprise. Dad said it was like Mom didn’t even notice Amelia. Mom apparently threw her arms around Dad and tried to kiss him, like full on the lips. When Amelia stopped her, Mom slapped her and called her a whore and a husband thief. Mom rushed away from them. Dad said he caught sight of her a few minutes later, and she seemed perfectly fine.” Bri shook her head in disbelief.

  “What did you tell Dad?” I whispered. Mom hadn’t wanted us to tell anyone what the doctor had diagnosed her with. Even still, she held onto her pride. She didn’t want anyone to feel sorry for her. She’d hated the way her friends had looked at her after the truth about Dad and Amelia’s betrayal came to light.

  “I told him the truth. He was stunned. He’s not going to say anything to Mom, though,” she hastened to assure me.

  I sighed heavily. “So, Mom just finished her grocery shopping then somehow managed to hook her stove back up?”

  “She did finish shopping. Bought all of Dad’s favorites,” she said, pain lancing across her face. Her eyes welled with tears. After a few moments, she managed to pull herself together. “Mom went home, assembled the pot roast Dad always loved, put it in the oven—of course, the oven didn’t come on. An
yway, after she got everything going, she got out their wedding china. Then she lit candles all over the house.”

  “Why did she do that?” I asked, truly confused.

  “You must not have written the date yesterday. It was their wedding anniversary,” Bri explained sadly.

  “Damn.” I leaned back in my seat, exhaustion taking over me. “I forgot.”

  “After Mom got everything romantic for Dad—her words, not mine—she went to take a bath. When she got out, she’d forgotten about everything. She went to bed with all the candles burning and the windows in the living room open. The wind must have blown the curtains into one of the candles or knocked it over. That old carpet went up quickly.”

  When she paused, the horror of what she’d described made my heart stall.

  “After Dad’s call, I was worried about Mom, so I drove right over. Of course, Dad called me a couple of hours after the grocery store incident. When I pulled up at the house, the fire department was already there,” her voice trembled. She sucked in a lungful of air. “There were flames everywhere,” she whispered.

  I could tell based on the look on her face that she was imagining the scene again. I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her into my side.

  “Had they already gotten Mom out?”

  “No. They called for her because the neighbor told them Mom was home, but she didn’t answer. The fire had spread to the stairs, so they couldn’t go up that way. Mom had passed out from smoke inhalation, so she didn’t hear them. They wound up using a ladder to go into her bedroom through the window. They found her in bed.”

  “Oh, God.” Emotion thickened my throat, making it impossible to say anything else. My mom could’ve died. I couldn’t wrap my head around it.