Lie to Me (Rising Star Book 1)

by Lee Piper

  “Who is it?”

  “No idea.” I reject the call before placing the cell in my pocket. “You sure you don’t want to see Tobias?”

  “Not yet. Knowing he’s okay is enough for me right now. Might go grab another coffee. I’ll be back soon.”

  “Okay.”

  I watch his tall frame disappear down the hallway. Then with a deep inhale, I open the door and step inside.

  The room is warm, which is strange considering most hospitals have the air conditioning set to arctic blizzard. The shades are drawn, the streetlights from outside offering a soft glow through the gaps in the pleated material. Tobias’s bed is pressed against the north wall, and dim lights emanate from behind him, where machines hum to the rhythm of his vitals.

  “Hey.”

  That voice. It’s cracked and weathered but his nonetheless. I don’t even realize I’m immobile until I hear it.

  Rushing forward, I throw my arms around my best friend. “Tobias.”

  “Ouch!”

  Straightening, I gasp. “Shit. I’m so sorry! Are you all right? Did I hurt you?”

  His grin is weak. “Kinda.” Tobias attempts to point at his head, misses, and grimaces. “I’m a bit sore.”

  “I’m such an idiot. I saw you and, well, I’ve been so worried. God, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. Morphine’s the bomb.”

  My gaze widens as I take him in. “Holy fucking shit. Look at you.”

  One side of his head is black and swollen. His left eye is glued shut behind a puffy purple lid, and there’s a long row of stitches above it. Deep, freshly tended wounds line his neck, right arm, and fingers, while his left shoulder, bicep, and forearm are set in a cast. The remainder of his body is covered in a blanket, but I can only assume it’s just as bad.

  “Jesus.”

  Tobias sighs, closing his good eye. “I know. I was a fucking fool.”

  “You got that right. What the hell were you thinking?”

  He grunts then grimaces. When Tobias opens his eye, he slowly turns to me.

  “I need to tell you something.”

  “Sounds serious.”

  “It is. But can you sit down first? The room spins when you move.”

  “Of course.” I drag over a chair. Okay, I attempt to, but my damn heels decide now is the perfect time for some slapstick comedy. After tripping and sliding toward Tobias’s bed, I take off the damn things and throw them into the corner. With an exasperated huff, I plonk myself onto the seat.

  Tobias is smiling.

  “Shut up.”

  He coughs out a laugh before crying out in pain.

  Jumping up, I lean over, caressing his cheek—the one that isn’t purple. “If you’re not up to it, I can come back later. Jasper and I aren’t going anywhere.”

  “Nah, I need to say this before the pain meds run out. I’m too chickenshit otherwise.”

  “Okay then.” I take his hand, my thumb gently soothing his cuts and scratches. “What is it?”

  “It’s about you and Reid.”

  “Tobias—”

  “No, hear me out.”

  I sigh but do as he says. This conversation has to happen sooner or later. “At least you can’t run out on me this time.”

  He smiles then sobers. After taking a raspy breath, he mumbles, “You guys are meant to be together. I’ve always known it, even when we were kids. You had this connection, like there was a gravitational force pulling you closer. Even when you hated each other, the air would crackle and fizz around you like a live being. It was insane.” He closes his good eye, exhausted. “I should never have tried to come between you. It was a dick move. I’ve never experienced the type of love you and Reid share. Fuck, I’ve never experienced love, period. You and Jasper are the closest I have to family, and even though I know you guys love me, it’s not the same.”

  My fingers skim his bruised knuckles.

  “I just… I wanted to know what it felt like to be that important to someone. I figured if you felt it for Reid, then you’d feel it for me too.” His voice is soft. “But it doesn’t work like that, I know.”

  “I’m sorry,” I murmur.

  With effort, he faces me again. His voice cracks. “No, I’m sorry. I was so busy drowning in self-pity, I didn’t think about how my behavior was affecting you or the band. It’s on me that we lost the contract. I’ll never forgive myself.”

  “There’ll be other opportunities, you’ll see.”

  Silence.

  “Jasper can’t stand to look at me, can he?”

  I give a soft smile. “Losing the contract was hard on him. He’ll come around. Just give him some time.”

  With a deep sigh, Tobias’s good eye flickers shut.

  “You’re exhausted. I’ll let you get some rest.”

  “Mkay.” And seconds later, he’s asleep.

  I study my friend for a moment. My heart is so full of relief, it’s difficult to breathe. Before the tears can wreak havoc on me once again, I slip quietly from the room. As I close the door, my phone rings.

  “For God’s sake.”

  “You gonna get that?”

  My eyes flit from the screen to my brother. He’s leaning against the beige wall, his long legs crossed at the ankles, a coffee cup in one hand.

  “Unknown number. It’s the third time they’ve called.”

  “So answer it.”

  Huffing, I give in to curiosity and raise the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

  “Shiloh Stirling?”

  The deep male voice is oddly familiar. For several moments, I try to place it but come up blank. “That depends. Who’s asking?”

  “It’s Bradley Reading from Ironbank Studios. I have a proposition for you.”

  “A proposition? What do you mean?”

  Jasper mouths, “Who is it?”

  I wave him away, too busy trying to focus on what Bradley freaking Reading is saying.

  “I was impressed with your performance tonight. Your vocal range is outstanding, and with some refinement, your song writing skills will be too.”

  “Wow. I don’t know what to say. Um, thank you.”

  Jasper steps closer, hissing, “Sis, who is it?”

  “Bradley Reading,” I mouth back.

  “Holy shit!” he exclaims, his eyes on the verge of launching from their sockets. Impatient fingers grasp my arm. “What does he want?”

  “I don’t know,” I whisper. “He said he liked my performance.”

  My idiot brother fist pumps before pretending a Hepatitis C poster is his sparring partner. I blink at him, stunned, while an amused nurse walks past. She chuckles, shaking her head.

  “Shiloh? Are you there?”

  Jasper delivers a killer right hook.

  “Um, yeah.” Snapping out of my stupor, I punch him in the bicep. With a satisfying oomph, he stops moving. “Sorry, there was a cat.”

  My brother scowls, rubbing his arm.

  “A cat?”

  “Um, yeah. It was fighting in the back alley because, you know, cat.” I blame the excitement trying to chokehold me for the stupidity of my answer. It’s stopping oxygen from reaching my brain.

  “Right. Well, I would offer to call back at a better time, but to be frank, I want to tie this down as quickly as possible.”

  “Tie what down?” To be honest, it’s hard to make sense of what’s going on. Between singing solo, Reid’s declaration, Tobias’s accident, and this phone call, my head is one landslide away from being declared a disaster zone.

  “I want to set up a meeting to discuss a possible contract. It’s with one of my smaller labels, Bootleg Records.”

  My mouth hangs open. “A contract?”

  “A contract?” Jasper hisses. There’s no doubt about it, he’s about to lose his shit.

  “Yes.” I can almost hear Bradley smiling. “A contract. You will have full creative license, studio time to record a debut album, and if all goes well, a national tour supporting one of Ironbank’s he
adline acts.”

  Whoa.

  Holy. Fucking. Whoa.

  This is it, the opportunity of a lifetime. And it’s being handed to me by none other than one of the most prolific music scouts in the business. There is every chance my grin is wider than my face. Hell, there’s every chance my expression mirrors a mental patient on bingo night.

  But then I gaze into my brother’s incredulous face. I remember my best friend lying broken in a hospital bed not even ten feet away, and it hits me. Bradley didn’t once mention my bandmates. Just me. Excitement soon gives way to despair as my conscience kicks me in the ass. Disappointment never tasted so bitter.

  Choking on my words, I garble, “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

  “What?” my brother hollers, scrambling for my arm once again.

  It isn’t easy, but somehow I shrug him off and turn away. Clenching my eyes shut, I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Look, thank you for contacting me. I’m so humbled right now, you have no idea. But I… I can’t accept your offer.”

  There’s a slight pause. “That’s disappointing. Can I ask why?”

  Jasper attempts to rip the phone from my hands, but I dodge his movements. Facing him, we lock eyes. “I’m not a solo artist. I’m the lead singer of a band, a fucking good one.”

  My brother stills.

  “As much as I would love to be signed to your label, I won’t do it without my boys. They’ve been on this crazy journey with me from the start, and I won’t continue it without them. They’re my family.”

  Jasper shakes his head in disbelief.

  Tilting my chin up, I stare at him, daring him to refute me.

  After a solid minute, Jasper’s shoulders slump. With a resigned smile, he pulls me to his side and kisses the top of my head before remembering the geometric ton of hair product sprayed in it. Gagging, he pushes me away before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. I want to laugh but can’t.

  “You misunderstand me, Shiloh.”

  Pause.

  “I do?”

  His voice smiles again as he says, “Yes, you do. As pleasing as it is to hear of your loyalty to your band, they’re also included in my offer.”

  “They are?” Now it’s my turn to shriek.

  “I’ve been watching the three of you progress on Rising Star. Your sound is original yet marketable. It will do very well on the rock music scene, provided it’s effectively represented and managed. Bootleg Records can do this.”

  “It can?” I really wish I’d stop repeating him.

  He chuckles. “Yes, it can. Now, about that meeting…”

  Despite Jasper’s frenzied whispers and my barely contained hysteria, we organize a meeting for later in the week. I know it’ll be tough to get Tobias there, but when I explain the situation to Bradley, he says he’s more than happy to set up a virtual meeting instead.

  When I eventually hang up, I face my brother. “We need to tell Tobias.” Turning, I reach for the door handle.

  “Didn’t you say he was resting?”

  My hand pauses mid-air. “Shit. He is. Goddamnit!”

  A frantic nurse rushes over. Apparently our celebration, conversation, and my subsequent exclamation are so loud, we’re asked to leave.

  Despite vowing to return later, I’ve never been happier to get kicked out of a place in my life.

  The week passes in a blur.

  Between caring for Tobias, our post-performance commitments at Rising Star, signing the recording contract with Bootleg Records, and me quitting my job at Doughnut Delights—thank fuck—I’ve barely had time to draw breath, let alone catch up with Reid.

  I’m collapsed on my bed at the end of yet another exhausting day when my door opens.

  “Reid?” Blinking, I sit up. Hasty fingers rub tired eyes—I want to make sure the figure in front of me isn’t a sexy mirage. “I’ve missed you.”

  “Hey, darlin’.” I hear the soft click of the lock. “I’ve fuckin’ missed you too.”

  Glancing out my window, I spy his car next to the curb. “I didn’t hear you pull up. Have you been here long?”

  Prowling toward me, he smirks. “A while. Had some words with the boys downstairs.”

  My eyes rake his body. Damn. With his scuffed combat boots, dark fitted jeans, and a tan belt, I’m lucky I can look him in the eyes. Never one to miss an opportunity to ogle my man, however, I continue my upward trajectory. Jesus. A black V-neck Henley hugs his shoulders and pecs in a way I’m desperate to. His sleeves are pushed up strong forearms, the corded muscles creating the illusion of tattoos dancing on skin.

  “So they’re talking to each other?”

  “Seems like it. There’s a weird vibe between ‘em though.”

  “Yeah, it’s gonna take a while to mend their shitstorm of a friendship. Jasper doesn’t mean to, but he still blames Tobias for ruining our chances of winning Rising Star, while Tobias is so wracked with guilt, he barely speaks anymore.” I sigh. “Hopefully, they’ll be okay.”

  “Reckon they will.” Reid’s heated gaze scans my legs; they’re bare since I’m wearing nothing but my favorite oversized band T-shirt.

  After a quick mental check, I’m pleased to remember I’m wearing a pair of lace panties. Sweet. “So did they apologize for being a bag of dicks to you?”

  Reid’s wavy hair is down and there’s scruff peppering his jawline. I’m surprised my panties don’t shimmy off my hips at the sight.

  He reaches the end of the bed, his voice low. “They said they should never have tried to come between us.”

  “Good.”

  Placing one knee on the mattress, he grasps my foot with a callused hand. Then, raising it in the air, he nips the inside of my ankle. “Said it was wrong to fuck with people in that way.”

  My eyes roll back in my head as he kisses, licks, and sucks his way down my calf. “Glad to hear it.”

  “Jasper explained they were tryin’ to do what was best for the band.” His fingers skim the underside of my knee.

  “Maybe,” I breathe, my fingernails digging into his muscular forearms. “But band or not, I lost you once. I won’t make the same mistake again.”

  With a growl, he bites my inner thigh. My grip on his arms tightens.

  “By the way, how does it feel being a bona fide rock star?”

  Looking up at me through thick lashes, he smirks. “You tell me. My band wasn’t the only one signed to a record label this week.”

  Reid was the first person I called to share the exciting news with. Since he’s the most perfect man alive, he didn’t complain when my voice reached ear-piercing levels. Heck, he patiently listened to the same version of events at least four times, and he even told me he loved me at the end of my mile-a-minute, one-sided word vomit.

  Yep, I’m the luckiest girl in existence.

  Then a terrifying thought dawns on me. Sitting bolt upright, I force his hands from my thighs. “Where are you recording? Is it far? Don’t tell me you’re traveling overseas or some shit. Swear to God, if you’re going to be based on the other side of the world, I will lose my mind.”

  “Shhh.” He gently pushes me back onto the mattress, the length of his body flush with mine. “We’re recording at Zeke Danton’s place. It’s only an hour from here, so I’ll be able to drive back each day to make love to my woman.” His nose skims the length of my neck, and I sigh. “You’re recording at Black’s Studio here in town, yeah?”

  I moan slash nod.

  “See?” He cups my face. Turning, I nuzzle his palm. “We’re gonna be fine.”

  “But what about touring?”

  “We’ll fix it so our bands tour together.”

  “Not sure if that’s how it works. I mean, what if—”

  “Stop.”

  His eyes. Those gray eyes of his look past my insecurities and penetrate my soul. They speak the truth even when I’m too scared to hear it, they see who I am when I’m too blind to see it, and they love. Oh boy, do they love hard.

  Reid swallows.
“Nothin’, not even an act of fuckin’ God, is gonna come between us. You hear me?”

  This. This is what it means to give your heart to someone. It is terrifying, spellbinding, and breathtakingly beautiful.

  “I love you.” My voice is soft, reverent, a whispered prayer.

  His forehead rests against mine. “Love you too, darlin’.”

  Our lips brush.

  Our hearts beat.

  And our bodies sing in time.

  The End

  Click here to read an exclusive excerpt from As You Were, Book 2 in the Rising Star series.

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  As You Were

  Book 2 in the Rising Star series

  They say love is beautiful.

  They lie.

  Love is a dark, broken man with whiskey-colored eyes. Love is knowing he will never return my feelings. It is the final chord of a guitar riff as it bleeds into silence.

  Love is Zeke Danton.

  I convinced myself I needed him. I thought there was no one better to record my debut album with…

  I was wrong.

  Encased in layers of ice, he wears his pain like a protective shield.

  Wanting what I can’t have might ruin me. But so help me, I crave his destruction.

  This book was re-written three times. Three. And I’m talking a complete character, setting, and narrative arc overhaul. Some days, doing so made me feel like I was on top of the world, like I was invincible. While on others, I would have gladly watched my laptop burn in the fiery pits of Hell. However, through it all, one person stood by me. He celebrated each milestone, wiped every tear, and kept reminding me to forget all the bullshit and just write. Thank you, mister. You are my heart, my home, my one true love.