LOW: A Rockstar Romance

by Lux,Vivian

  "Hey, fuck you." Keir was reading the story with increasingly wide eyes. "Holy shit, Rane. She's a music journalist."

  I actually was surprised, but I still played it cool, for Keir's sake. "Glad to see being forced to sit in the crowd at all our shitty early gigs didn't ruin that for her."

  Shit, Keir wasn't rising to the bait. He was still staring at the picture like he could will her to step through it and come to him. "No, says here she actually won some award last year."

  There was unmistakable pride in his voice. Fuck. "Keir, where're you at?"

  "I dunno, man." He brushed his fingers across his head and down his face like he was trying to wipe the big stupid grin away. "It's just kinda cool, right? She's a music journalist, I'm a musician. Maybe she'd, I dunno, wanna write about Ruthless or something."

  "Abso-fucking-lutely not. You are not going back down that road. That's a bad idea."

  Keir smacked the magazine down and stared at me, eyes blazing. "Yeah, like you're one to lecture about bad ideas."

  "The fuck are you going on about?"

  "Maddie? Our stepsister?"

  "There's nothing going on there."

  Keir snorted. "Maybe. But you sure as fuck want something going on there."

  I don't know why I shoved him. Maybe to get him to stop talking. If he would just shut the fuck up, I could keep pretending what I felt about Maddie was only friendship.

  Keir shoved me right back. I grunted as the counter caught me in the small of my back and a sharp pain radiated down my leg, sharpening my anger. I came out roaring and took a swing. Keir ducked his head out of the way and my fist connected with his shoulder. "Fuck!" he yelled, and used the momentum of the spin to clap me right in the arm.

  My whole right arm went dead.

  "Shit." I backed up, rubbing the spot where Keir's fist had hit bone.

  He went white. "Fuck, your arm."

  "Yeah." It was hanging like a dead thing at my side. I waited, hoping for the pins and needles that were taking forever to come.

  "Can you play?"

  I heaved my hand upward. Throb throb throb. I nearly sagged in relief as the pins and needles marched up my nerves. "Yeah, I'll be okay. Though I should throat punch you for that cheap shot."

  Keir looked at me steadily. "You deserved it."

  "Yeah, maybe I did. But if I can't play guitar...."

  Keir shook his head. I didn't need to finish the sentence. Playing guitar was my life. The only thing I was good at. I had no skills, barely a high school education and no real work ethic to speak of. Without music, I was royally fucked.

  And Maddie, my traitor brain insisted on reminding me. Maddie is coming tonight.

  My fingers twitched on their own as the feeling returned to them. "Okay, guys. Break's over. Let's get ready to blow their minds."

  Chapter Twenty

  Madeline

  I dialed and hit the call button before I could psych myself out any further. Why did I feel like I was asking someone out on a date?

  "Hello?" Harlow sounded breathless and harried, and I almost hung up in a panic.

  But I didn't. "Hey, Harlow? This is Madeline Cole."

  A pause. "Maddie!" Then her voice dropped to a sympathetic whisper. "How are you feeling?"

  I had to laugh. "Well, the hangover didn't last three whole days, thank god. I'm fine now."

  "You were..." She trailed off and I could tell she was searching for a tactful description.

  "Drunk as a skunk?"

  She laughed. "In so many words."

  I took a deep breath. "That's why I was calling. I wanted to thank you for, um, helping Rane with me."

  She made a scoffing sound. "Pfft. Girl code. You would have done the same."

  I hoped she was right. "Well, er, it was cool of you, especially since we only just met." I swallowed awkwardly and barreled ahead before she could agree that yeah, we were basically strangers and to have a nice life... "And there's this thing tonight. Rane invited me. It's called a buzz gig? I was wondering if you felt like coming."

  She hesitated a second. "You want me to, like, be your date?"

  I bit my lip. Yes. I told her silently. He invited me as a friend. He is only my friend. What better way to stay friends than for me to, um, bring a friend, I guess? Except all my friends bailed on me when I hit rock bottom and you're the only girl who has been nice to me in a long time so please, please... "Sure, if your boyfriend doesn't mind?" I said, breezily, easily. Acting.

  She laughed a little too loudly. "Casper's being an entitled dickwad. Apparently I'm being too needy when I ask when he's next getting a break from touring. Ass. It'd be nice to do something on a weeknight other than wait around until he remembers to call. Sure, Maddie, thanks a bunch. What time?"

  *****

  Harlow slid into the passenger seat of my car and shot me a grateful smile. "Thanks, Maddie," she huffed. "I was planning on spending the night in a threesome with Ben and Jerry, but this is a much better idea."

  "Well, I have to admit, I'm not exactly sure how good of an idea it is," I confessed. "I have no idea what a buzz gig is."

  "Oh, well, that's easy," she explained, tucking her handbag under the seat. "Casper had a bunch of these to go on before Jax started the tour. It's called a buzz gig 'cause it’s supposed to build up buzz, but what it actually turns out to be is," she affected a slouchy drawl and stuffed her hand down the front of her pants, "'a bunch of industry fuckwads crammed in a room too small to hold everyone where they congratulate each other over being cool enough to see a band they're not even paying attention to.'"

  I had to imagine that was a direct quote.

  I grimaced. "Well, that sounds fucking delightful."

  She waved her hand. "Eh, it'll be fun. Ruthless puts on a hell of a show, even when they're crammed into a small space. Maybe we can start our own mosh pit."

  I nodded. "Mad Maddie in a mosh pit. That'll cement my reputation for sure."

  "Pfft, stop worrying about what everyone's thinking of you, Maddie. You're pretty cool." She said this casually, like it wasn't exactly the thing I needed to hear.

  "I think you're pretty cool, too, Harlow," I said, aiming for fun and friendly, and landing more at shy and nervous.

  She glanced at me, her bright red lips twisted in an amused smirk, and looked like she was about to say something, when a trilling little alert sounded from her handbag. She rolled her kohl-rimmed eyes. "Oh my God, he finally texts me when I have something going on. Fucking figures."

  "Do you want to see what he has to say?" I asked, curious.

  "No. Let him stew for a while." She folded her arms and blew a little puff of air out of the corner of her mouth, sending her flat-ironed bangs floating skyward. "Tonight is girls' night."

  "Girls' night," I answered solemnly, feeling like we had just signed a pact in blood. Girls' night, I reminded myself as I walked up to the venue and saw a poster of Ruthless outside with Rane's gorgeous face on display. Girls' night, I reminded myself as I went to the bar and saw a bottle of Grey Goose just waiting for me to drink too much of it and end up in his bed. Girls' night, I reminded myself as I made lame conversation with Harlow, all the while keeping one eye on the stage waiting to see him again.

  We were shoulder to shoulder, crammed in like sardines. This space was small— intimate would be how it would normally be described— but with all the lights and rigging, it felt downright claustrophobic. I pictured the five members of Ruthless, all shoulder to shoulder up there on that tiny little stage, and wondered how the hell they'd ever be able to move an inch. But no one around me was even looking towards the stage. I heard loud shouted laughter, the sound of air kisses, the idle chatter of business connections being made and backroom deals getting nailed down. It was an old, familiar sound, but one that didn't seem to fit me anymore. I was here to see a band. I wasn't here to be seen.

  This was new.

  The lights dimmed and a few scattered claps petered out. I looked at Harlow, who cracked o
pen a beer can and raised it. "Ruuuuuuuuthless!" she bellowed, holding her hand up in a horned salute.

  I laughed. "Woooooo!" I shouted. "Yeah, baby!"

  "Yow! Take it off!" Harlow ululated as the guys walked onstage.

  "Woo! Woo! Woo!" I clapped. "Freebird!"

  Harlow barked out laughing and joined my chant. "Freebird! Freebird!" She fell against my arm, giggling. I hooted as the lights went black.

  The spots hit the stage and a crashing wall of sound slammed into my chest, knocking the silliness right out of me.

  I stared.

  And suddenly I understood why Rane was a star.

  No, not a star. A whole fucking universe.

  He pogoed in place for a moment, thrashing the hell out of his guitar like it had angered him, before leaping up onto one of the amp stacks and pounding out a solo up there. I was dimly aware of Keir singing, of Twitch beating out staccato bursts, of the chest-wall-vibrating thud of Balzac's bass...but nothing, nothing could tear my eyes from Rane.

  He jumped again, higher this time, weaving his way closer to the ceiling. "He always does that!" Harlow shouted in my ear. "He's like a fucking mountain goat, always has to be getting higher."

  "I see that," I answered. Or maybe I didn't. Watching him was robbing me of coherent thought.

  I wanted to be friends with him? Friends? Maybe I could have imagined that as possible a moment ago, before I saw him play. But now, now the notion of being friends with Rane Wilder was as futile as the notion of befriending a wild animal. Or riding a stallion, or harnessing a tornado or taming a tidal wave. I had to laugh at my naiveté.

  I looked down and saw I was moving. I didn't know I was moving. But Rane's guitar was pulling me, playing me like a puppet. I was in his thrall, a slave to his music. And the longer I stood here, the more I needed to stay standing here. When the second song ended, I was close enough to see the sweat beading along his forehead. I wanted to taste it.

  I knew exactly how his body would look naked. We had started our "friendship" lying next to each other in bed, naked but for inconsequential scraps of cloth to hide the naughty bits. I knew everything about how his body looked under his clothes, except for one small...not so small part.

  I wanted to see him naked again.

  Especially that part.

  "Maddie!" Harlow shouted in my ear, interrupting my public/private fantasy. "I'm gonna go get some more drinks. You want anything?"

  I shook my head. "No thanks," I said, lifting my arm, then just dropping it to my side. I couldn't tell what my body was doing anymore. Rane controlled it with his music.

  No, this is crazy. He's just playing guitar. Just doing his job, the way I was doing mine when I laid in bed next to him. There's nothing here. There can't be.

  I tore my eyes away from him, just long enough to see Harlow returning, her entire expression transformed into one of ebullient joy. I cocked my head at her, wondering what had made her so utterly transformed.

  She grabbed my elbow and steered me off into a corner away from the driving sound of the speakers. For one second I was angry, until I collected myself, and then I was grateful for her intrusion. I was dangerously close to the edge.

  "Maddie, I'm so sorry, this is completely shitty of me to do, but, well, here…" She held up her phone in front of my face. The picture icon showed a smiling Harlow kissing a pale guy cradling a guitar. Underneath it was a picture message, a familiar front door with the caption, "Surprise, babe! Open up!"

  Understanding flooded me. "He's at your place?"

  She laughed. "He was being an asshole so he didn't ruin the surprise! They're on a break for the next three weeks. Three weeks, Maddie! I haven't seen him that long since we first started dating, back before he's joined Jaxson's band. Holy shit, Maddie…"

  "What are you going to do?"

  "What? I feel terrible bailing on you. And you look like you're having such a good time, I don't want to make you leave…"

  "Are you kidding me? Go! He's at your house right now, right?"

  She nodded. I reached into my purse and shoved some bills into her hand. "Here's cab fare. Don't even worry about it."

  She gave me a quick, tight hug, and dashed out the front door.

  I wasn't sad to see her go.

  I was relieved.

  I turned back to the stage.

  Rane coiled around his guitar, moving with sinuous danger like a snake poised to strike. And when the chorus slammed down on our heads, he struck. The frantic energy of his fast-fingered playing pummeled us with an onslaught so merciless that when Keir finally wailed the last soaring note, I was left drained, drunk and unable to tear my eyes from Rane.

  I'm alone...

  ...with him....

  And then, when his head whipped up and his eyes landed on mine, we were the only ones in the room.

  I was no longer pressed in on all sides, hemmed in by the shoulders of the glitterati. I was alone with Rane as he played the next notes only for me - twisting and turning my body with his music so that we were locked in our own very private dance.

  This is what I was afraid of. There it is. The familiar loss of control. I felt it spiral away, slipping through my fingers as Rane's music blasted the composed shell away from me, shattering me like a fragile eggshell to reveal the slippery stuff inside. I was helpless in the face of my rising need.

  And fuck it.

  This time, I didn't want to regain control.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Rane

  A lifetime of bad decisions still hadn't prepared me for how badly I had fucked up by inviting her tonight.

  Just friends. Bullshit. There was no way I could be just friends with this girl. Not when she stared at me, her face the only one I could see in a sea of indistinct faces, her red hair flaming like a sunset, backlit by the spots. Her face was like a beacon, a fucking lighthouse guiding me home.

  And I couldn't reach out and touch her.

  So I played every song for her.

  I expected her to smile. I expected her to nod her head in time with the music. Maybe a little shoulder shake or a slight sway.

  What I didn't expect her to do was dance.

  Maddie moved like she was possessed, throwing her hands into the air like she wanted to catch every note I was playing. She undulated, shimmying and twirling around with such wild abandon that I forgot what I was doing and stopped playing and stared at her instead. Balzac sensed that I was losing my train of thought and leaped forward to deliver a blistering bass solo that had everyone clapping. Everyone except Maddie, who stared straight at me. The song ended, and I said the only thing I could think.

  "Meet me in the back."

  The long concrete hallway that ran behind the green room was still and quiet, hidden behind a heavy fire door. People would be looking for me, but not here. I only hoped that she would have the sense to find me. If I waited too long, I might realize what the fuck I was about to do.

  A soft, shuddering breath echoed off the stone, and I had to smile to myself. Clever fucking girl. Maddie had to be a pro at ducking prying eyes. She probably frustrated the hell out of the paparazzi.

  "Rane?" she called softly into the dark.

  "Here," I replied.

  She slipped out of the shadows and moved to me.

  The hallway was definitely dark, but not so dark that I couldn't see the fire in her eyes. The ice queen, she was on the verge of melting, and she was staring at me with those eyes, begging me to put her over the edge. I knew her now. I knew she needed to be able to blame it on me. Reckless, wild abandonment frightened the shit out of her, but she also craved it as purely as I craved seeing her wild and reckless.

  The only way she'd let it happen was if I made it happen.

  Fuck it. It's my mantra, right? Fuck it...

  and fuck her.

  I traced my hand up her neck, cupping my fingers into her jaw to tilt her face up to mine. "Don't run away," I growled. She wasn't going to, but she also needed to be reminded
that this mistake was going to be my fault. "Stay with me."

  She nodded. I felt the little tremor and her skin heated under my hand. Goddamn. I had never met a chick that got me more riled. She was a swift-moving brook that iced over in November, all that motion under the calm surface. I wanted to make her crack...and then shatter.

  I brushed my lips over hers, still holding her tightly against me. I felt rather than heard her quiet moan, and it rushed right to my cock.

  Right now, I was one heartbeat away from burying my face between her legs.

  She exhaled upward, retaking control. And I let her. I wanted to see what she would do next.

  "Are you hard?" she asked.

  "Are you wet?" I shot back, faster than I could think.

  She cupped her hand around my cock. "Very." The way her lips formed around the word, it was like my cock was already between them.

  "Kiss me, Maddie," I snarled. The rougher I sounded, the more I knew she'd give up. She made a noise like a trapped bird, fluttering and fluting, and lifted her lips to mine.

  I slammed into her, rough and hot, not nearly as gentle as I should have been, but not nearly as rough as I wanted to be. From the moment I had met this girl, she had me hypnotized, and this twisted tango that we had been dancing had brought us right up to the edge of a cliff. And I liked living on the edge, and I liked jumping over, and fuck it, if I had no parachute then at least it would be a wild ride before I splattered all over the ground.

  I ground into her frantically, needing to feel every inch of that perfect freckled skin. She gasped, and I was sure I was crushing all of the breath out of her lungs. I almost moved away, ready to let her take a breath, ready to let her tell me to cool it, back off, leave her alone.

  Then she wrapped a long leg around mine and drew me in even closer.

  "Yes," she hissed. It was more of a sound than a word, and the sibilant sigh of her breath escaping her lips grew higher and tighter as I kissed down her jaw to find that soft, sweet smelling space where her neck met her shoulder. I couldn't see her skin in the low light, and that thought angered me. I sucked more savagely than I meant to, drawing a high moan of painful delight from her lips. I pulled back and studied her face.