by Amber Garza
LOVE STRUCK
Amber Garza
Cover Models: Brett Patterson and Erin McMackin
Cover photographer: Juli Losee
Graphic Artist: Lisa Eneqvist
Author Photo: Megan Squires
Copyright © 2013 Amber Garza
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
To anyone who feels they aren’t good enough
Prologue
Ryker
“Is that Lola?” Pierce nudges me in the side, pointing over my left shoulder. Hearing her name causes moisture to coat my body like I’ve just stepped out of the shower. Shoving the tall, frosty mug of beer away, I crane my neck and look in the direction of Pierce’s finger.
Despite the beer I was drinking, my mouth goes completely dry at the sight of her. Lola looks even more beautiful than she did the last time I saw her. At the time I wouldn’t have believed it was possible to look better than she did. Lola is so gorgeous it seems sinful. It’s as if when she was created God accidentally threw the beauty of numerous people into just her. When we first started dating it was unnerving to take her places. I loathed the way people would stare at us curiously, as if we were one of those pictures where you had to pick out the thing that didn’t belong.
Clearly, the thing that didn’t belong was me. Everyone could see that. However, I wanted to be with Lola so bad I chose to believe her when she assured me that we fit together somehow. And I never wanted anything more in my life.
“Who’s the dude?” Pierce’s words cut through my thoughts, causing my stomach to clench.
Sliding my gaze off of Lola, I finally see what I’d missed before. The guy with his arm on her back looks perfect for Lola, with his expensive clothes and perfectly styled hair. Judging by the watch on his wrist and the designer jeans he wears, I’d say he can afford to give her things I could only dream of. And I’m pretty sure he’s not a struggling musician like me.
Turning back around, I reach for my cold beer. Snatching it up off the bar, I bring it to my lips and down it. It feels good and cold as it swims down my throat, but I know it’s not strong enough to erase what I just saw. I slam it back down on the mahogany bar, and Pierce lifts his brow.
“Wanna get outta here, man?”
What I want to do is get shitfaced, but I know I can’t. So I shrug. “Yeah, let’s go.” I hop off the stool when the scent of coconut reaches me. That one scent has the ability to transport me back in time, and I’m momentarily overcome with emotions. An avalanche of images bury me all at once, and I buckle beneath the weight of them.
“Ryker?”
I spin around to find Lola leaning against the bar, her elbow propped up on it. Her black hair is curled around her face, her dark eyes are lined thickly, and she’s wearing that damn red lipstick that drives me wild. My heart starts its frenetic drum solo, and I have to grip the edge of the bar to keep from falling over. I’ve dreamt of this moment for months, only it didn’t include her showing up at a bar with a strange guy. No, it included her in my arms wearing a lot less clothes than the belted jacket, jeans and boots she currently has on. I clear my throat, forcing the thoughts away.
“Lola,” my voice comes out in a pathetic squeak, and I think about how Daddy Warbucks over there probably sounds sure and strong when he speaks. The bartender slides two drinks in Lola’s direction and she reaches for them.
“You drink now? When did that happen?” I ask, knowing it’s none of my business. But she’s underage, and even though she’s no longer my girl I still feel protective of her.
“Mine’s club soda.” Her face holds that guarded expression I’ve gotten to know so well.
I nod in the direction of the guy she came in with. He’s sitting in a booth, looking warily in our direction. “Is that your boyfriend?”
Lola nods, biting her lip. “Yeah. Nolan.”
I snort. “Nolan? What kind of name is that?”
“Ryker.” She tosses me a warning look.
I lean in close. “Do you love him?”
She steps backward, bristling. “That’s none of your business.”
I dart my arm out and circle my fingers around her wrist. She stiffens, glancing down to where my hand clamps over her flesh. “Tell me that you love him, Lola. Tell me that he makes you happy. Tell me that he loves you like I do.” Our gazes collide. “If you can tell me that, then I’ll finally be able to let you go.”
“Let me go?” She furrows her brows in a look of confusion.
“Lola, I know we broke up, but I haven’t stopped loving you. And for the past six months I’ve been hanging on to the hope that maybe one day you’ll take me back.” I release her arm, my shoulders slumping. She makes no attempt to move away from me. “You deserve to be happy, Lola. You deserve to be loved fiercely. If Nolan can give you that, then I’ll walk away.”
“What’s going on here?” Nolan saunters up, his eyebrows knit together. I feel irrational hatred toward him, and I ball my hands into fists at my side. Pierce shakes his head at me, as if he knows how badly I want to punch this guy.
“Nothing.” She looks at me pointedly. “Absolutely nothing.” Lola’s gaze shifts to him, her cheeks flushing. She reaches for her glass, the carbonation fizzing to the surface. “Let’s go sit down, Nolan.”
In one fluid movement he picks up his drink as well and then grabs Lola’s hand with his free one. Watching him thread his fingers through hers causes jealousy to surge through me. Lola doesn’t look back as she and Nolan hurry to their booth.
As they walk away I mull over the possibility that Nolan is the one she’s supposed to be with. Perhaps I was wrong all along.
Maybe it never was me.
1
Ryker
A year earlier
I’m standing up from my table, preparing to leave when her voice stops me. Her rich tone washes over me, and I lower back down onto the hard wooden seat. Leaning my elbows on the pub table, I push my empty coffee cup out of the way and watch her, mesmerized. She leans over the keyboard, her dark hair falling down her back. Her hands skim over the keys, her glossy lips purse, and her long lashes cast a shadow over her pale skin. But her beauty isn’t what draws me to her – it’s her stage presence. The whole room is enchanted by her. She must be new here because I’ve never seen her before. There hasn’t been anyone new performing for open mic night at this coffee shop in awhile. Maybe she’s a new student at the college.
The minute her song ends I shake my head as if coming out of a fog. When I see her walk off the stage, I can’t stop myself. I get up and head toward her. There’s no way I can let talent like this slip away.
I step in front of her. “Hey, you were pretty great up there.”
She bites her lip, and her cheeks flush. “Thanks.”
“I’m Ryker.” I offer her my hand.
“Star,” she says, extending hers.
“I like it.” Cocking an eyebrow, I think how well her name suits her.
“I’m Lola,” A voice calls from behind Star. I peer around Star’s shoulders and see a girl with shoulder length shiny black hair, brown eyes and dark red lips smiling up at me. My heart stutters in my chest. She’s one of the hottest girls I’ve ever seen. Star has the whole girl next door thing pegged, but Lola looks like a supermodel. She reminds me of one of those pinup girls from the fifties. “Why don’t you join us, Ryker?” Lola indicates the extra chair at their table.
I’m sure she’d never go for a guy like me, but I take her up on her offer anyhow, happy to be this near to her. “Don’t mind if I do.” I plop down in the seat. The sweet scent of
coconut wafts from Lola, and once again my heart skips a beat.
When Star sits down across from me I’m reminded of the reason I came over here in the first place. The next performer starts playing – a girl who plays here week after week but doesn’t seem to get any better. She’s loud, so I have to lean across the table toward Star to be heard. “I’m in a band, and we’re looking for a female singer. I think you’d be perfect.”
She raises her eyebrows in a look of surprise. “Like a lead singer?”
I feel bad for getting her hopes up. If only I were better at explaining things. “No, we have a lead singer. We’re looking for kind of a backup singer, I guess. But there would be plenty of opportunities to feature one of your songs if you wanted to.”
Her face pales and she shifts uncomfortably. “I don’t know. I’ve never really been in a band before.”
“Why not? You’re amazing,” I say.
Lola elbows Star in the side. “I’ve been telling her that for years.”
I lock eyes with Lola and she lifts her lips into a slight smile. It’s so sexy it makes me want to wipe off that red lipstick with my mouth. “Smart friend,” I say flirtatiously.
“You have no idea.” Lola runs her fingertip along the rim of her cup, causing my pulse to spike. I can’t stop staring at her.
“Thanks for the offer, Ryker, but I’m just not sure about it,” Star yanks my attention back to her, once again reminding me of why I came over here. Man, Lola’s really messing with my mind.
“Why don’t you give us your information and Star can give you a call to discuss it further?” Lola asks.
A girl who takes command. I like it. Grinning, I push back from my chair. “Great. I’ll be right back.” As I head over to the counter to grab a pen and piece of paper to write on, I think about how I really want to give my number to Lola. But I know that Star would make a great addition to our band, so I need to follow this through. Besides, maybe if I can get Star to join the band she can put a good word in for me with her friend.
When I return a second later, I hand Star the slip of paper and then sit back down. Even though I was ready to leave earlier, now I find myself wanting to stay.
Star glances down at the paper and then peers up at me. “Whose address is this?”
“Our lead singer,” I say. “We practice in his parents’ garage. We’re practicing tomorrow night at seven. You should come and jam with us.”
She looks a little nervous about the whole thing. I’m about to say something to reassure her, but then Beckett takes the stage and starts singing, his voice drowning out the room. I watch as Star stares up at him in awe. It’s a look I’m familiar with. All the girls are enamored with Beckett. Hesitantly I peer back at Lola, wondering if Beckett’s charms have worked on her too. I’m pleasantly surprised when I see her looking at me instead. That never happens. Usually when Beckett’s in the room I become invisible.
“Who is he?” Star asks with her gaze still locked on Beckett.
“That’s Beckett. He’s the lead singer in our band. That’s why it’s called Beckett. He has a bit of an ego.” I chuckle lightly, hoping she doesn’t detect the bitterness in my voice.
“I’ll be there tomorrow night,” she says, not that I’m shocked. I’m sure she wants to go just to be near Beckett.
I find myself glancing over at Lola again, hoping she doesn’t fall for Beckett too. Even though I’m sure I don’t stand a chance in hell with her, I know that I’ve got to try. There’s just something about her; something different.
2
Lola
When I wake up, Star is already gone. She has classes early this morning and mine don’t start until later. I stretch for a minute, working out all the kinks in my muscles. My neck cracks as I roll it. The bed in my dorm room is not nearly as comfortable as the plushy queen I have at home. At least I brought a few of my pillows, but it doesn’t seem to make up for the hard, unforgiving mattress. Flinging off my soft covers, I step onto the rough carpet. It catches on my toenail as I make my way across the room toward my dresser.
I groan as I take in Star’s disheveled bed. That girl is such a slob, I swear. Stalking over to her side of the room, I swiftly make her bed. Sometimes I feel like her freaking maid, and I know it should make me mad. But the thing is that Star has been my best friend for years, and I’ve never been able to be mad at her for very long. She’s the one person in my life who accepts all of my flaws. I feel like I owe it to her to do the same. Not to mention the fact that she was there for me during the most difficult period in my life.
However, that doesn’t stop me from teasing her endlessly about her unorganized tendencies. Grinning, I take two large strides toward my nightstand and pick up my cell phone. Holding it in my palm, I type with my thumbs swiftly.
Maid report: Bed made.
I can practically picture her rushing to class right now. I’m sure she’s running late. She always is. Her text back comes almost immediately. Sorry. I thought I did better. At least I picked up my clothes from the floor.
Glancing down at the floor, I chuckle.
True, I shoot back. And I know her well enough to know that she really did think she’d done better. Star is one of those crazy creative types without an organized bone in her body.
After dropping the cell back down, I grab my toiletries and head down the hallway to the communal bathroom. When my feet hit the linoleum floors I think about how horrified my mom was when she first saw this place. There’s no way she or my sister would survive here. Neither of them would ever leave our posh house in El Dorado Hills, California, to live in Seattle, Washington, in dorms that don’t even have their own bathrooms. In fact, I think it’s safe to say they’re all shocked I haven’t gone running back home with my tail between my legs. But I’ve always been different than the rest of my family, and I’ve been waiting my whole life to be able to prove it.
“That was super good.” I link arms with Star as we exit the pub we just had dinner in. I cinch my belted jacket tighter to ward off the chilly fall air, and it pinches at my swollen belly. My body isn’t used to all the junk food I’ve been stuffing it with since Star and I got here last week. I know I should slow down. My clothes keep fitting tighter and tighter. It’s just that everything feels different here in Seattle. I feel different – more free or something.
“I know. Fried food is my nemesis,” Star says, her brown hair swirling around her face as a breeze kicks up.
My black boots click on the pavement as we walk along the sidewalk. I rub my lips together, the chalky red lipstick I always wear coating them. My long chandelier earrings tinkle in my ear with each step. We pass by a little club, music spilling outside from the door that is slightly ajar. A couple stands against the window, both of them puffing on a cigarette. Star bats away the plumes of smoke that circle us as we pass. The screech of a guitar and a loud drumbeat fill my ear. Then a rich male voice starts singing. Star stops and drops my arm.
“What?” I halt and turn to her.
“I think that’s Beckett.”
“So?” I flash her a dumbfounded look, remembering our conversation last night after she’d returned from her audition for his band. Apparently he’d been a complete ass to her. Not that I’m surprised. I could tell the first time I laid eyes on him that he was an arrogant jerk. Unlike his friend Ryker who seemed super nice, not to mention seriously hot. My cheeks heat up just thinking about him. Star moves away from me and starts walking inside the club.
I grab her by the arm, attempting to save her from herself. Star isn’t known for making great decisions when it comes to guys. She’s lucky she has me around to help her. “I thought you never wanted to see him again.”
She bites her lip, and I can tell I haven’t deterred her at all. “Just one song?”
I sigh. “Fine.”
She drags me inside the crowded room and starts pulling me toward the only empty table. Of course it is right under the stage, so all eyes turn to us as we weave tow
ard it. It seems that everyone in town is stuffed inside this cramped room, their eyes glued to the stage. I don’t know a lot about rock music, but I guess they sound pretty good. When I slide into a chair, Star plops down beside me. I glance up at the stage to find Beckett’s eyes locking on Star, and I feel like I’m witnessing a train wreck. I can already predict where this is headed. My gaze flickers past Beckett and lands on Ryker. His gaze catches mine and his lips curl upward in a grin as his fingers fly over his electric guitar. I find myself wondering what they would feel like on my skin. Ryker is exactly the type of guy my parents have warned me to stay away from. Struggling musicians are not exactly the kind of guys my dad, the esteemed Dr. Vega, expects me to end up with. But I can’t help the attraction I feel toward him, and I know if he asks me out I won’t turn him down no matter how impractical.
“For this next song I’d like to bring up a very special guest,” Beckett speaks into the mic. Even though every girl in the room is drooling over Beckett and his edgy rocker look, I can’t keep my eyes off of his very sexy electric guitarist. Ryker allows his arms to drop to his sides, his guitar swinging from the strap on his neck. His brown hair falls in a wave over his forehead in that messy look that I know probably took him awhile to perfect. His tight t-shirt clings to his defined muscles, and his brown eyes sparkle under the dim lights. “We sang this song together earlier in the week, and I’d like to do it again. Star?”
My head snaps up at the mention of my best friend’s name. Star looks over at me frantically, her eyes betraying how shocked she is. What is Beckett up to? First he tells her she can’t join their band, and now he’s inviting her on stage to perform with him? I wonder what game this guy is playing. Watching Star walk up on stage looking like she might puke, I narrow my eyes at Beckett, making a mental note to keep my eye on him. Star has been hurt enough by guys, and I don’t plan on sitting idly by while it happens again.