Hard Rock Kiss

by Athena Wright

  The frowns didn't leave my parent's faces as I made my way down to my apartment to grab my sneakers and bag.

  I hated worrying them, but then again, they worried about everything anyway, no matter what I said or did. Sometimes I thought that was the only way my parents knew how to live — in a perpetual state of anxiety and fear. I understood it, but I couldn't live that way. Not anymore. I couldn't deal with the heavy cloud of dread lingering over my family. I'd finally learned to forget about all my problems and just have fun.

  And by fun, I apparently meant sleeping with rock stars and hurling myself off cliffs.

  I caught a glimpse of a sleek, shiny black car two blocks away. With a furtive glance over my shoulder, making sure my mom wasn't watching through the window, I opened the passenger side door and slid in.

  "Go," I said urgently.

  With a quick look out of the corner of his eyes, Nathan revved the engine and took off. I gripped my seatbelt with both hands.

  "Oh my god, you're one of those adrenaline junkies, aren't you?" I bemoaned. "And here I thought you were all laid back and cool."

  "Nothing compares to the rush of being on stage," Nathan said with a glance in his rearview mirror. "But speeding down a highway comes close."

  "If I die in a car crash, I'll come back as a ghost and haunt your dreams forever."

  "You're already in my dreams, gorgeous." He winked, but eased off the pedal and we slowed to a more moderate pace. "So why did I have to park down the street, again?"

  "I didn't want my mom seeing you. She'd ask too many questions."

  "About zorbing?"

  "About everything."

  "Hm." He looked at me out of the corner of his eye again but didn't say anything else.

  "This is kind of a fancy car." I nodded to the leather seats and the computer screen on the dashboard flashing with a dozen different numbers and gauges.

  "One of my few vices," he said.

  "Is that why your apartment is so normal? You spend all your money on cars and guitars?"

  There was a beat of silence.

  "Yeah," he said, but didn't elaborate.

  I had to wonder if there was something more to it than that. Surely a famous rock star like Nathan could afford anything he wanted.

  "So this zorbing thing," I began. "How safe is it?"

  "I haven't heard of anyone dying while doing it yet."

  I sat straight up. "Yet?"

  "It's safe," he assured me. "We're going to a designated zorbing area with instructors who will give us training and watch over the whole thing."

  "That makes me feel a little better," I said. "I thought you were just going to buy a blow up bubble, shove me inside and push me down a hill."

  "We can do that, too," he grinned. "But let's start off letting the professionals show us how it's done."

  We finally reached the place, and, after parking at the base of a not-too-steep hill, we found ourselves walking up a winding trail.

  "You didn't tell me hiking was a part of this game," I said, panting.

  "Winded already?" he teased. "I thought running after all those kids would keep you in shape." He elbowed me in the side with a friendly jab. "Come on, I'll race you."

  "Wait—"

  Nathan ignored my protest and sprinted ahead.

  "Slow poke," he called back.

  With a grin of my own, I hurried to follow him.

  It had been a long time since anyone had challenged me to a race. My parents always made sure I stayed back when the other kids took part in physical activities. I liked that Nathan didn't treat me as if I might fall apart at any minute.

  When I crested the hill, there was a group of people under a makeshift tent with a handful of human-sized, hollow plastic balls. Nathan went right up to one of the girls wearing a company branded golf shirt. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but he gestured to me with a grin and the girl waved me over.

  "So it's your first time?" she asked with an enthusiastic smile as she handed me a pamphlet. "You're going to have a lot of fun."

  She walked the two of us through the safety rules and had us sign a waiver form. I gave Nathan the side eye at the wording absolving them of all responsibility in the case of injury, death or dismemberment.

  "It's a standard form," the girl reassured me. "We haven't had a single accident since we first opened up."

  "I still don't know…" I said, hesitant.

  I was sure most of their previous patrons had no trouble, but what about someone like me? This zorbing thing looked pretty intense. Even cushioned inside a bubble, I was still going to be tossing myself down this hill. That was no doubt a heart-pumping, pulse-racing, thrilling experience. Was I up to this?

  "Want me to go first?" Nathan asked. "You can see there's nothing to it."

  I nodded, relieved.

  I watched as Nathan climbed into a bubble. He waved at me from the inside. I barely had time to wave back before the girl called out.

  "One, two, three!"

  On three, she shoved with all her might and sent Nathan tumbling down the hill. I could hear him whooping with laughter the whole way. It took less than a minute before he reached the bottom. He climbed out, wobbling on his feet and nearly falling to the ground.

  "That was fucking awesome!" he called up to us.

  "Your turn," the girl said.

  With a deep breath, I took my own place inside a ball. I squeezed my eyes shut as I heard her countdown, and then, I was sent head over heels, body bouncing against all sides, spinning around and over and upside down. I screamed out loud, half in terror, half in delight. My stomach did somersaults and my head went spinning.

  Finally, I reached the bottom and rolled to a stop. Just as I had expected, my heart was racing. My pulse was pounding. I could feel the blood rushing through my veins.

  I stumbled out of the ball and fell to my knees, taking gasping breaths. My heart fluttered madly. I could practically feel it skipping beats.

  "Becca!" Nathan ran over to me. He put a hand on my back as I kneeled on the grass. "Are you okay? Are you going to be sick?"

  I shook my head, still panting.

  Nathan took my face in his hands, alarm in his eyes. "What's wrong?" His thumbs stroked my cheeks. "I'm sorry. Was it too much?"

  It was such a caring gesture, his touch gentle and warm.

  "No," I managed to croak out. "I'm okay." I hoped. "I just—"

  My heart clenched and fluttered. Fear ran through me. I squeezed my eyes and clutched at my chest, suddenly terrified my heart was going to give out then and there.

  "Maybe throwing ourselves down a hill wasn't the best idea in the world," he said.

  I choked out another breath. Nathan wrapped an arm around my shoulder, guiding me to sit down.

  Was he thinking I was some wimp, unable to take the kind of adrenaline rushes he sought out? Did he think I scared too easily, or that I was a weakling? I hated the idea of Nathan thinking I was weak. I didn't want him to treat me any differently. I got enough of that from my parents.

  As I sat there, catching my breath, Nathan's soothing hand rubbing my back, my heartbeat slowly calmed, turning steady and strong.

  Still, the whole thing had me shivering, my fingers cold and numb.

  "Can we go home?" I asked.

  He stared at me, then pressed a kiss to the side of my head.

  "Yeah. I'll get you back home."

  10

  We both sat quietly as Nathan pulled away from the parking lot. As we made our way back onto the road, his eyes kept flicking to me. My face still felt flushed and the nervous tension in my bones made me jittery. I tapped my fingers against my thigh in a staccato rhythm.

  Nathan reached over and placed his large palm over mine, stilling it.

  "I'm sorry," he said again.

  "Not your fault. I should have known. I can't even handle amusement park roller coasters," I joked weakly.

  Nathan squeezed my hand and returned his attention to the road.

>   When I noticed the route he was taking, I spoke up.

  "Can you take me back to your place?" I asked.

  He looked taken aback, before nodding. "No problem."

  "I don't want to go home right now." Not feeling like the way I did. My mom would take one look at me and know something was wrong. "I just—"

  "You don't need to explain," Nathan said.

  When we arrived at his apartment, he situated me on his living room sofa. He draped a small throw blanket over my lap and went to get me a bottle of water from the fridge.

  "You're a good nurse," I said as I took the bottle. He'd even unscrewed the cap for me.

  "Are you okay?" he asked.

  I flashed him a smile I hoped wasn't as forced as it felt. "I'm fine." I tucked my clammy hands under my thighs so he wouldn't see them shake.

  He took a seat next to me on the sofa.

  "You want to explain to me what happened back there?" he asked.

  "I guess I'm not used to the extreme sports adrenaline thing," I said. It wasn't a lie.

  Nathan still looked concerned.

  "I knew it would be exciting," I continued, "but I didn't realize it would be so—"

  "Heart stopping?" he filled in.

  I stared at him, examining his expression, but from the wry smile on his face, he was only joking. I breathed a little easier. The last thing I wanted was for Nathan to start suspecting.

  "I guess this means no more extreme sports," he said.

  "No." I surprised myself even as I said it. "I had fun. I think I just need to mentally prepare myself for something like that beforehand."

  "Makes sense. This kind of thing is new to you. Good thing we didn't start off with sky diving."

  "No way," I said. "I have limits and that's one of them. Throwing myself down a hill is one thing. It's an entirely different thing to throw myself out of a plane and plummet to earth."

  "You'd have a parachute," he said.

  "And with my luck, it would be the one parachute that malfunctions. Nope." I shook my head vehemently. "Never doing it."

  "What about indoor skydiving?" he asked. "You don't actually board a plane. It's just a giant wind tunnel. Or rock climbing. You're strapped into a harness the whole time. Those don't sound so bad, right?"

  "You're like the connoisseur of extreme sports."

  "It's like I said. I'm just looking for the same rush I get when playing on stage."

  My shaky hands were steady now, my hands less clammy. Talking with Nathan calmed me with every minute.

  "What's it like, being on stage?" I asked.

  His eyes lit up the way they had when he'd talked about zorbing. This time though, the fire inside them burned even brighter, his eyes taking on an almost manic glint.

  "There's nothing better," he said. "All those fans cheering me on, feeling the music in my bones, pulling magic from the strings of my guitar…" He closed his eyes and made a noise in the back of his throat. "It's so much better than those adrenaline rushes. It's even better than sex sometimes." He peeled his eyes open and grinned at me. "Sometimes."

  "Good to know our little rendezvous ranks up there among skydiving and concerts." I pulled my hands out from under my thighs and grabbed the bottle of water for another swig. "But playing on stage can't always be great. What about in your early days when you weren't that good? What if you're playing to a tough crowd and they boo at you?"

  Nathan shrugged. "It's happened before. You learn to push through it. You can't please everyone, but as long as we can make our hardcore fans happy, it's all good."

  "That's a very zen way of looking at things."

  "You sound surprised."

  "You just seem like one of those live-in-the-moment kind of people."

  "Is that bad?"

  "No. I wish I could be more like you. You've only got one life to live. Might as well live it doing what you love."

  "Do you not love what you do?" he asked.

  "I like working at the pet shop. I love working with children. But—" I hesitated, wondering how much to tell him. "I've just missed out on a lot of stuff, that's all."

  "Overprotective parents," he nodded in understanding.

  "Yeah," I said, although that was only half the story.

  "You're an adult. You can do anything you want."

  "Within reason."

  "Fuck reason," he said. "What's one thing you've always wanted to do that you never have?"

  "I don't know. Lots of stuff."

  "Pick one," he urged. "It doesn't have to be crazy. It just has to be something you'd regret not doing on your deathbed."

  I through back to all those long days in my youth when I had nothing but time to think about all the things I'd never have a chance to do.

  "I've never gone to one of those teenaged house parties," I finally said.

  A sly grin creeped across Nathan's lips. "A house party?"

  "You know the ones in the movies?" I continued. "The rich kid's parents are away and everyone gets loud and drunk and someone swings from a chandelier and people smash glass tables and there's always a pool out back that someone jumps into from the roof?"

  The more I spoke, the wider his grin spread.

  "I know exactly the kind of rager you're talking about," he said.

  "And let me guess. You know exactly how to throw one? Why am I not surprised."

  "Rock stars know how to party." He pulled out his phone and thumbed rapidly. There was a reply within seconds. He turned his phone around to show me the screen with a date and a time. "Your wish is my command."

  "You've planned a raging party in the five seconds it took to text?"

  "I didn't have to plan one myself," he said. "I know a guy. Hope you're free that night."

  The quirk of his lips and deep blue eyes were earnest and hopeful.

  "I'll make it," I promised.

  How could I say no? I'd told Nathan one of my wishes and he'd made it come true within minutes. It was such a sweet gesture, something I was beginning to realize wasn't out of character for him.

  Even as my heart swelled, a small part of me couldn't help but worry.

  I'd thought I'd be safe, having a fun night with someone like Nathan. I'd thought he was the love 'em and leave 'em type.

  But for some reason, he wanted to spend time with me. Running into each other at the pet shop and at the hospital was a coincidence, but there was no real reason for him to invite me back to his mom's house, or why he'd convinced me I had to go zorbing with him, or why he'd invited me to go to a rock star party.

  Was it just because he was lonely? Was I just an entertaining, temporary substitute for his best friend? Or was there something else behind his actions?

  There was something thoughtful about Nathan Walker. Something genuine. He liked to tease and play around, but there was more to him than that.

  The way he'd cradled my face and looked at me with concern, the way he'd taken my hand and squeezed it reassuringly, the way he'd taken me back to his place and helped calm me down…

  Something inside me couldn't help but respond to that show of kindness. Of care.

  Even as he took the empty water bottle from my hand and offered to drive me back home, a pang of anxiety hit my chest.

  I wanted to spend more time with Nathan, too. I had fun with him. I enjoyed getting to know him.

  I liked him.

  The thought made my heart clench, in an entirely different way, but the panic was the same.

  I liked Nathan Walker.

  Which meant I was in a world of trouble.

  11

  When Nathan texted me the address of the party, I wasn't surprised to find myself standing in front of a huge, multi-story mansion with beer cans tossed haphazardly on the immaculately landscaped front lawn. Loud music pumped from outdoor speakers and people spilled from every doorway, laughing and chatting with each other.

  I wished now that I had agreed to let Nathan pick me up. I hadn't wanted to take another risk of my mom seein
g his car, so I'd taken a taxi.

  But now, faced with the daunting prospect of walking into this animal house by myself, I wished fervently for a friendly face. I'd wanted a house party, but this went beyond anything a teenager could dream up.

  My phone buzzed and I pulled it out.

  You here yet? Nathan messaged.

  Standing outside, I wrote back.

  Be right there.

  Minutes later Nathan stuck his head out the front door, looking around for me. He had on a plain grey t-shirt, showing off his inked arms, and was wearing those painted-on jeans. His sandy hair fell into his eyes. As he brushed it back, his gaze fell on me. A pleased smile spread across his face. He gestured for me to come to him. I maneuvered my way around drunk party goers to make my way to the front steps.

  Nathan put his arm around my shoulders and guided me inside.

  "One raging party, delivered as promised," he said.

  "This is awesome. Thank you. Now I get to live out all my teenaged dreams."

  "Drinking games?" he guessed. "Skinny dipping? Spin the bottle? Making out in a dark corner?"

  "I'm sure you'd be more than happy to help grant me any of those requests."

  "I don't think anyone's claimed the chandelier yet, if you want to be the first to swing on it."

  I looked up to where he pointed. There was, in fact, a chandelier hanging from the high ceiling, decorated with sparkling crystals.

  "Even if I wanted to, how would I even get up there?" I asked.

  "I'm sure we could find a ladder."

  "But what if it breaks and crashes to the floor?"

  "Even better."

  "I don't want to be the one to break someone's property."

  "So you just want to see someone else do it, hm?"

  "That's not what I meant."

  "Hey asshole!" Nathan called out behind his shoulder, ignoring my protests. "I've got a dare for you."

  A tall man with bright blue eyes appeared suddenly, jumping onto Nathan's back and laughing.

  "Is the dare something Jessie would hate?" the man asked.

  It was Gael, the bassist and Nathan's best friend. There didn't seem to be any tension between them as they grinned and tossed off insults at each other.