by Logan Chance
“Ok, last one,” I say. “This song is special to me. It’s dedicated to my older brother, Ryan.”
Even though Ryan’s not here, I always close out the show with the song I wrote for him. About him. A Marine, hurt in the line of duty.
I sing the first line and lock eyes with the one girl who always gets my pulse racing.
And then I’m all feelings, letting the song lead me where it may. I can’t even hear my own voice anymore. I’m lost, thinking of just one kiss of those rosy, red lips.
I finish off the last note of the night, thank everyone for coming, and Kennon, Jax and I head backstage.
Such an adrenaline rush once the show is over. We’re all still flying from the high of it.
“Great show,” Callum says, patting Kennon on the back and handing him a bottle of water. “If you keep performing like that, you’ll be under contract in no time.”
I smile. “I’ll take your word for it.”
“I’m serious,” he says. “I’m working on getting you booked in the Miami music festival. Word is, there’s going to be a major label rep there.”
My band mates and I glance at each other. We’ve been playing together since we were fifteen, and it’s always been about the music, but not gonna lie, a seven figure deal isn’t something we’d turn down. I’m no dumbass, though. Label deals come with strings, and as long as they aren’t puppet strings, I’m down.
“Get to work,” Kennon says, slapping his brother on the back.
“Just remember guys, keep it clean.”
I know what Dylan means by keeping it clean. Our lives. So many stories out there about rock bands almost getting their first break and ending up pissing it all away due to drugs and partying.
That wouldn’t be us. I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life. I want this. Bad.
As much as I want Lexi. Wait. Scratch that. I don’t want Lexi; I just find her really pretty.
We finish packing our gear and head back into the bar.
I need a beer to try to keep this euphoric state I’m in going. One; that’s all I’ll allow myself.
“Amstel,” I call to the bartender.
“Great show,” a leggy blonde next to me says.
My drink arrives, and I take a long pull. “Yeah, thanks.” I spot Lexi dancing with her friend Belinda out of the corner of my eye. “I’ll see ya around,” I say to the girl.
My whole concentration is on Lexi and the way she moves in those tight jeans. God, she’s hot. And completely out of my league.
Now, before you say it, I’m a pretty good-looking dude, but it’s the age thing. She’s older and has her life put together.
Besides, I know one day my band will make it. I know one day we’ll be traveling on tour, and what would Lexi do? Travel with us? I don’t think so.
But, I make my way over toward her anyway.
I slice through the crowd like a man on a mission. Everything ceases to exist the closer I get to her.
“Great show,” she tells me with a smile.
I grab her hand and lean in closer. “Thanks. I’m glad you came.”
“Well, of course. How else am I supposed to write a story on you?” She looks over at Belinda. “Let’s grab a drink. Join us?” she says to me.
“Sure.”
While I order their drinks, Kennon and Callum join us, and the next thing I know, everyone is laughing and having a good time. Including Lexi. She becomes very touchy as the night ends, and I want more than anything to touch back.
“Walk me out?” I lean and whisper against the shell of her ear.
She isn’t drunk, and neither am I. But, it’s like we’re intoxicated on each other. I can’t get enough of her.
Uncertainty washes across her face and then she places her drink on the glossy bar. “Ok.”
Before she can change her mind, I grab her hand and lead her out the front entrance. Together we cross the parking lot, and she gazes up at the night sky.
“It’s so pretty out here at night,” she says, looking over at me.
“Yeah, it is.”
But, I’m not looking at the specks of stars or the full moon. No, my whole focus is on her blue eyes. How her eyelashes flutter over her soft skin when she blinks. The shape of her lips. How goddamn pretty she is.
I lean against my truck.
“Well, goodnight,” she says.
Her lips are so close to mine.
I could lean down and kiss her if I wanted.
And I want to.
So, I fucking do.
Chapter 3
Lexi
It’s the full moon. That’s going to be my excuse. Crazy things happen during a full moon. Even though I know this is wrong, I can’t seem to make myself stop. His hands encompass me, pulling me closer, tugging against my skin. So manly and it’s the same hands he uses to make his music with.
He groans when our tongues meet, and I moan with him. We’re playing our own little melody out here in the parking lot.
“I want you,” he whispers against my lips.
“Same.”
I don’t need to say anymore than that and he’s already opened the truck door, pulling me in to straddle his lap. Our lips meet again in a frenzy of lust and chills, running through my body. I can’t believe this is really happening. I’m not going to lie—it’s better than anything I could’ve imagined.
“I need you, Lexi.”
His fingers skillfully glide to the zipper of my jeans as his mouth moves to my neck, sucking and biting. The already foggy windows hide how shamefully I grind against his hardness.
And then, there’s more kissing and touching. More pushing and pulling. Pants and moans. Until my wanton ass hits the horn behind me, setting off a jarring honk, breaking me from the spell I’m under.
The magazine, his age, how wrong this is swirls through my brain.
“Wait, Devin. We can’t.” Did I really just say that?
He stops kissing me, and his hooded green eyes meet mine. “Are you ok?”
I need to be an adult here. More than anything, I can’t let this happen. I need this job.
He runs his fingers through his hair, making it more sexy. But I find the strength to say, “I’m sorry. But we shouldn’t.”
He doesn’t argue as I open the door and climb off him and into the cool night air.
I listen as he starts his truck and watch his tail lights disappear down the street.
I’m such an idiot.
Chapter 4
Devin
“You’ll be going on tour to open up for the Ravenheads,” Callum informs us the next day at rehearsal.
“Fuck you, yeah right,” Kennon answers.
Callum throws a guitar pick he’d been holding right at his brother’s head.
“I’m serious.”
We listen as Callum explains how he was contacted by the band manager of the Ravenheads. Apparently, he saw our show and they need an opener for their sold out tour.
My heart races as Callum continues on with the specifics.
“It’s a three month tour, and we leave kind of soon.” He smiles. “We’ve got a bus and everything.”
After last night, I could use some good news. I’d wanted more than anything to spend the whole night exploring Lexi’s sweet body, but it’s never going to happen. For whatever reason.
But, I can’t think about her now, because I’m going on tour. And she’s going to be the furthest thing from my mind.
We finish up our practice, and then I drive to my parent’s house to give them the big news.
When I step inside, my mother and my younger brother Lance are watching tv.
“Turn it off, I’ve got big news,” I tell them as I walk into the living room.
“Devin, is everything ok?” my mother asks, rising from her seat on the leather sofa.
“It’s more than ok.”
I tell them about the tour and about opening up for Ravenhead.
“The Ravenhead?” La
nce asks.
“Yes, the one and only.”
He shakes my hand and smiles.
“This is huge. Need a roadie?” he asks.
“Lance, you have a surfing competition coming up next month,” my mother says, laughing.
“What’s all the commotion?” my older brother, Ryan, asks as he rounds the corner with my father.
“We’re going on tour,” I burst out. I can’t contain the excitement any longer.
This is a huge deal for us. And more than anything, I can’t wait to get started.
“That’s great news,” my father says.
We talk about the ins and outs of the tour, and everything I know so far. Which, to be honest, isn’t much.
But, I trust Callum. And I trust this will be the time of my life. And who knows, it could lead to bigger things. Actually, I know it will.
A few weeks later, all my things are packed, and I have Lance drive me to the bar where the bus waits.
“Dude, have fun,” Lance says as I exit his car. “This is amazing. Keep me up-to-date.”
I grab my suitcases, and when I step onto the bus…
That’s when I see her.
What is she even doing here? And why? I haven’t spoken to her or even seen her since she rejected me.
It stung, but I’d never let her know that. No, I’m going to act like the mature adult rock star that I am and pretend she doesn’t exist.
But why is she on my bus?
“Devin, Lexi is joining us,” Kennon says.
“Why?” I stare at Lexi and her eyes hold me hostage.
“Well, big surprise.” She gives me a strained smile. “I’m doing a story on you. My boss arranged for all of this. Kind of a behind the scenes.”
“That’s great,” I say, moving past her to throw my bags onto the bunk I’m now claiming. “Just stay out of my way.”
Lexi doesn’t say anything, and she doesn’t need to. She’s already made everything crystal clear.
But, this is a nationwide rock tour. Who needs her?
Not me. There will be plenty of action on the road. And maybe I can get over her once and for all.
You can continue reading about Devin and Lexi in their own full-length novel coming late 2018.
Playboy Sneak Peek
Prologue
Chelsea
“I just heard,” my friend, Gidget, sympathizes, rushing through the door of the dressing room on the set of Skittle Skattle Doo.
I remove my Dodgy the Dog costume and blink back the tears. “It’s ok.”
It’s not, but what else can I say? I’ve just been let go from a small production of a kid’s show. I can’t even make it as a dancing dog. You may think I’m being a bit over dramatic, but I’m an actress. It’s what I do. While I’ve been told I have the poise and grace of a young Audrey Hepburn, I have all the luck of a broken horseshoe.
Although, I don’t feel very graceful in this furry dog suit I’m currently wearing. Big floppy ears. Bushy tail. You get the picture.
“I know. Don’t give up, though. You’ll land something even better than this crap show,” Gidget, the choreographer of this ‘crap’ show, says. She’s always good at pep talks.
“I’ve only been here, what, like two months?” I pull up my jeans, and toss a t-shirt over my head. “I really thought when I came back here from Texas, I’d land the first role that came my way.”
“This town has a way of spitting people with real talent out.” She grabs my costume and places it neatly on the rack.
“Well, I need something to pay the bills,” I tell her, throwing my blonde hair in a ponytail.
“You know, you should try modeling. Lots of big stars start out modeling.”
“Hmm, my brother does have a friend who works at a magazine,” I say. “But, no. No way.”
“Which one?”
I raise a brow. “Bunny Hunnies.”
Gidget steps closer. “Wait, Bunny Hunnies? Chelsea, you should definitely think about that.”
“Really? I don’t know if posing in a men’s magazine will help my career.”
She pulls out her phone from the back pocket of her skinny jeans. “Look,” she thrusts the phone in my face, and I see a picture of a shirtless guy with a ton of muscles, “that’s Wayne Craig. He’s a huge Instagram star…aaaand…he models for that magazine.”
I take the phone and swipe through a few of the pictures. “Well…”
She cuts in, “And June Dellaway got her start in that magazine.”
“Shut up,” I say. June is only the biggest sensation right now. Oscars. Red carpet. The whole nine yards.
“Listen, all I’m saying is, it can help you with money. You need an agent if you’re ever going to make it. Hell, even my dog has an agent,” she says, glancing at the pictures of Wayne one last time before putting her phone away.
“Yeah, agents are expensive.” I sit down in the lone folding chair, feeling a bit defeated.
“You should have Declan call that friend of his and get you in.” She points her finger at me.
Well, that’s the problem. The ‘friend,’ Jonah Marshall. I’ve had a crush on him since day one of meeting him. When Declan brought him home after baseball practice, my heart was a goner.
Soft brown eyes, dark messy hair. He was every young girl’s fantasy, and I was ‘rugrat,’ Declan’s little sister. Even so, my crush only intensified the older I got.
By the time I was sixteen and madly in love, my parents dropped a bomb on my brother and I.
Divorce.
I hate that word.
It’s ugly and upended my life.
I was whisked away to Texas to live with my mother while Declan, already in college, stayed in LA with my father.
But I’m back now in La La Land. Los Angeles. The city of my birth. Population 3,792,621. Two thirds of that are trying to land the same roles I am. And I’m ready for my big break. Since I just lost this job, maybe I will try my hand at modeling.
But, there’s no way I will let Declan call Jonah.
No, if I’m going to make it in this city…I want it to be based on my talent. Not for who I know.
In a city full of big sharks and vicious piranhas, I’ll be the little fish that swims against the current.
Sounds good, right?
Well, wish me luck, or break a leg. Whatever saying works best for you, because none of them work out very well for me.
Chapter 1
Jonah
Name’s Jonah, and I’m a habitual dater. Sounds like I’m at some dating anonymous meeting, or something. For the record, I’m not. Is there such a thing?
What’s a habitual dater, you ask? I’m not entirely sure. I guess what I’m trying to say is: I date…a lot. I’ve been told with my height, brown eyes, and just fucked brown hair (their words, not mine), I could be in the pages of the magazine I photograph for. Not to sound egotistical, but getting women has always been easy for me. I wouldn’t call myself a manwhore, though.
Sure, I like to have fun with these dates, indulge in some extracurricular activities afterward, but they know the score: I don’t do relationships. Sounds cliché, I know. But, I’ve tried a few of those in the past. Never worked out.
First, there was Tiffani. Started out great, but next thing you know, she hated my friends and wanted me to stop hanging out with them. Second, there was Bryn, who couldn’t keep her legs shut. She fucked the entire staff at the restaurant job she had. Male and female.
No, me and relationships are like oil and water; we just don’t mix.
Instead, I prefer to play the field. No strings. Lately, though, no matter how appealing the first course may be, most dates end with me slipping out before the dessert is even on the table.
Like tonight, for example, the blonde sitting across from me has a smokin’ hot rack, like bigger than genetically possible. I couldn’t care less. She’s dull and artificial. Not to mention, she hasn’t stopped talking about herself since we arrived. Besides, she fai
led the quote test. What’s that you ask? Well, I’m a die-hard movie fanatic, and I give all my dates a certain movie quote. They get it wrong, well, the date usually bombs.
And so far, it has.
I’m not sure when these things started mattering to me, but they have.
And, honestly, I don’t give a shit about what she’s saying. Ouch, I know, that’s harsh. But, I’m really not an asshole. Well, mostly not. It’s just lately this whole game is getting old. Going out with girl after girl. There must be more to life, right?
So, here I am, in this upscale restaurant in the heart of LA, with my Chivas on the rocks and a pained grin on my face while Amy talks with her mouth full of food.
“So, then, my boss said, ‘Amy,’ ” she points her fork at me, “you can’t bring your cat to work.’ But, my cat told me he misses me during the day,” she whines.
“That so?” I ask, barely interested. “Where do you work?”
She stops talking long enough to stare at me with a blank expression on her over made face.
Fuck, did she already tell me, and I didn’t pay attention? Bad Jonah. I should be punished, but not by her.
“The bank,” she tells me in a ‘duh, don’t you remember’ voice.
“That’s right. Crazy how they wouldn’t let you bring…” I pause and wait for her to fill in the blank.
“Snookums.”
I nod. “Right, Snookums to the bank.”
I finish off my steak while Amy continues to drone on about her roommate, Kelly.
Who cares? I glimpse my phone on the white linen tablecloth, wishing it would ring. Wishing for a miracle call of a family emergency so I can bail. When Amy starts to tell me about Kelly’s rash from a spray tan, I switch the phone to silent and press it to my ear.
“Hello…what? Calm down. Uh-huh. Shit, ok. I’m on my way.” I slide the phone in my pocket, eyes on Amy. “I’m so sorry. I have to go.”
She stops chewing. “Are you serious?”
“I am.” I grab my wallet, throwing down enough cash to cover the bill. “This should cover everything. Again, I’m sorry.”
And that’s that. I’m out of there and in my Jeep before Amy can say another excruciating word. You may think I’m rude, or hell, think I’m an asshole, but, I never claimed I was a good guy.