Faster We Burn (Fall and Rise, Book Two)

by Chelsea M. Cameron

  “You’re a girl who’s been trying to be something she’s not for her whole life and it finally stopped working for you. Now you’ve got a chance to be who you really are.”

  “Who is that?” She brought her knees up under the blanket and put her chin on them.

  “A girl who does makeovers for her friends and puts on a brave face for them, and cares so much about people that she can’t even see it.” There was a hell of a lot more than that, but that was enough for now.

  “Is that what you see when you look at me?”

  “I also see a lot of pink,” I said, leaning back and putting my arm around her, hoping she wouldn’t bite my hand off for doing so.

  “I really like pink.” She brought her head up and moved her face closer to mine.

  “I know,” I said, moving until our faces were only a millimeter apart.

  She pressed her lips together and shook her head back and forth.

  “I should go. Thanks for…all that.”

  “You’re going to leave me after I unburdened my soul?” I said, clutching my chest. “I’m hurt, Katie.”

  She rolled her eyes and stood up, handing me back my blanket.

  “You’ll get over it. See you later.”

  I got up and caught her before she got all the way out the door.

  “I don’t know if this fits into the “things we’re not supposed to do” category, but do you want to come over tonight? I’m having some friends over to have a session and I would like to invite you to come. As a friend.” I didn’t stop to think about the consequences of inviting her to hang out with my friends. If I did, I probably wouldn’t have invited her. Too late now.

  She toyed with her keys. “A friend? Is that what I am?”

  “I told you, you can be whatever you want to be.” She leaned in the doorway.

  “I guess I can be your friend. If you want me to be.”

  “I want you to be what you want. You have enough expectations already.”

  She looked down with a little smile.

  “You’re right. And yes. I will be your friend. At least for tonight. What time?”

  “Around six?”

  “Sure.” I waited for her to move, but she seemed conflicted.

  “We can still screw each other if we’re friends, right?” she said.

  She leaned closer and touched my belt.

  “I have absolutely no problem with that definition.” I moved closer to her and I was about to yank her in for a kiss when she took a step back.

  “No. I shouldn’t. I have to go. I’ll see you tonight.”

  She skipped down the stairs and I was left with a hard dick and no one but myself to take care of it for me.

  Katie

  “What are you doing?” Lottie said as I went through my closet, trying to find something that would work for a music “session.” I’d gone to plenty of concerts, but this was totally different. I didn’t think my pink glittery cowboy hat would be welcome. Or maybe it would. I had no idea, which was what made it so hard to choose.

  “Looking for something to wear. Stryker invited me to one of his music things and I don’t know what to wear. Ugh, I have nothing!” I threw everything off my bed onto the floor.

  “You have more shirts than I have books,” Lottie said, getting up to help. “And that’s saying something.”

  “I just don’t want to look like an idiot.”

  “You could never, ever look like that. Well, maybe if you wore this,” she said, holding up a pink shirt that said STAY CALM AND WAIT FOR PRINCE CHARMING. It had actually been a sarcastic gift from Kayla. I’d forgotten that I even had it.

  “You’re the makeover queen. Look at what you did with the red dress.”

  “I know, but it’s one of those things that I can do for other people, but not for myself.” Lottie started folding shirts and putting them back on my bed.

  “You’re overthinking, which means you care. A lot. Stryker isn’t going to care what you wear. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

  “It’s not him I’m worried about.” It was his friends. I knew pretty much nothing about them, except a few of their names and that they played instruments. Other than that, I was shooting blind.

  “How about this?” She found a soft t-shirt with little pink flowers and a grabbed one of my pink cardigans.

  “Super cute,” she said, holding it up to me.

  “Hey, you’re stealing my makeover thunder,” I said, pulling the shirt I’d been wearing over my head and putting on the t-shirt.

  “Here, take these,” she said, handing me one of the only pairs of earrings she owned. “Will had a weird moment and bought me these last Birthmas.” They were dainty drop pearls, and not the cheap ones either. I had a pair that were pink, but I’d forgotten them at home.

  “There. You’re perfect,” she said after I’d added some make up. “Now get out of here, you crazy kid. Have fun.”

  I’d never been nervous going to Stryker’s apartment, so this was a first. I had to park on the street because his lot was taken up by an assortment of cars that all looked like something he’d probably worked on at one time or another.

  My heels clicked on the porch and I took another breath before I knocked.

  “It’s open!” a voice that wasn’t Stryker’s yelled down the stairs. Once I opened the front door I wondered how they’d even heard me knocking because of the noise that came from his open door at the top of the stairs. I wouldn’t exactly call it music. My mother would have been horrified.

  I took my time getting to the top step and poked my head into the open doorway. Five guys and three girls were crammed on and around the couch and on the futon, some of them with instruments, some of them with bottles, but all of them staring at me. Stryker was in the exact middle of it and smiled when he looked up from tuning his mandolin.

  “Hey, I hope I’m not late,” I said, waving and wishing I could just vanish. Or at least melt into the floor. It was just like that nightmare where you walk into class and realize you’re naked, only I could feel my heart pounding and my mouth went completely dry and I knew I was awake.

  “Hey, you’re right on time. We haven’t started yet,” Stryker said, getting up and stepping over a few people to get to me. “I’m glad you came. Everyone, this is Katie.” He dragged me into the room and eight sets of eyes gave me the once over.

  “Katie, this is Perry, Cort, Baxter, Ric, Pepper, Zoey, Allan and Theo. Yes, there will be a test on this later. Say hello everyone. I’ve told them to be on their best behavior.” The girl I thought he’d pointed out as ‘Ric’ rolled her eyes, but I thought I was the only one who noticed. She had two-tone black and blonde hair and was draped over the guy named Baxter, who had gigantic gauged ears and snakebite piercings in his bottom lip.

  “So this is where you’ve been when we called you to go out,” Allan said. He got up from his position on the coffee table and came forward to shake my hand. He bent over and kissed it and I met gray/blue eyes in a face with a crooked nose that had been broken more than once. “Nice to meet you, little lady.”

  “Hey, man. Hands off,” Stryker said, shoving Allan away so he let go of my hand. Then everyone else got up and shook my hand. There were definitely more piercings, tattoos and other body modifications than I was used to, which, I had to admit, was intimidating. I was also the only one wearing pink, but that was no shock.

  Stryker led me to the couch and shoved Perry aside so I could sit. I was still getting a lot of stares.

  “You don’t have to move,” I said, but he waved me off. I squished in next to Stryker and he gave me a little smile before picking up the mandolin again.

  “Okay, let’s take “Devil’s Tattoo” from the beginning.” Allan sat back on the coffee table and picked up a guitar, as did Perry and Baxter. Cort seated himself at the drums and Pepper had Stryker’s banjo. Theo went to the standing bass and they all waited for Stryker to count.

  “One, two, three…” They launched into a song
I didn’t know, with Stryker, Allan, Ric and Zoey singing. Even with the mandolin, the song was raw and had a heavy beat that made me move with it. The group throbbed with the song and I was in the middle of it.

  It was like diving into a pool of music. It was everywhere, soaking into my skin and driving me crazy, consuming me.

  I’d never seen Stryker play in person, it had always been over the phone, so I watched him. He kept his eyes closed most of the time, but every now and then he would open them. Once or twice they searched and found me and he smiled a little.

  I closed my eyes too and gave myself over to it. They all played harder and faster, and the energy was almost too much to take. I was afraid it was going to crush me and then it ended.

  “Not bad, not bad. What did you think?” Stryker turned to me and everyone waited for my response.

  “Wow. That was…Wow. What song is that?”

  “‘Beat the Devil’s Tattoo’, by Black Rebel Motorcycle Club,” Ric said, leaning back against Baxter. “Ever heard of it?” I almost laughed at her attempt to make me feel like a moron.

  Yes, I was intimidated in this foreign environment, and yes, I wanted them to like me, but I wasn’t going to get into some sort of stupid girl fight. She had no idea how easy she was to read. Despite her attempt to show everyone that she was totally into Baxter, her eyes never strayed far from Stryker. She was jealous.

  “No,” I said, giving her a sweet smile. “But I really like it.”

  “Be gentle with her. Her musical education is in the beginning stages,” Stryker said, giving her a look. “Sorry, sweetheart, but it’s true. We need to wean you of your Swift addiction.” Jesus, listen to one song and you’re branded a fan. Not that I wasn’t a fan. I’d just denied it when Stryker had asked.

  “Hey man, don’t disrespect the Swifties,” Allan said with a serious face. “They are a force to be reckoned with.”

  “We, are never, ever, ever getting back together!” Perry sang in a loud, off-key voice which made everyone laugh.

  “That’s gold, man. You just don’t understand,” Allan said, shaking his head sadly. “You get it, right Pinky?”

  “Oh, I get a nickname?” I said.

  “Everyone who joins The Band gets a nickname,” Perry said. “Especially if your real name sucks.”

  “So you’re saying Katie sucks?” I said, turning to him. He was paler than Lottie, as if he spent all day in his basement, but he had deep brown eyes and the cheekbones of a model under a mop of dishwater blond hair.

  “No, I wouldn’t say that it sucks. It’s just really common. So is Christopher, which is my real name.”

  “Nice save, Per,” Stryker said, giving him a thumbs up. “So you want a drink before we do another?”

  “Yeah, sure,” I said.

  “Okay, take five,” Stryker said in a mock serious voice. Everyone broke up, and some went outside to smoke while Stryker took me into the kitchen and handed me a beer from the fridge. I felt Ric’s eyes following my every move.

  “So what do you think?” he said as I popped the top and took a swig. Beer wasn’t really my drink of choice, but I wasn’t going to turn it down.

  “You guys are amazing. I feel intimidated by your talent.”

  He grabbed another drink and leaned against the counter.

  “Are they what you expected?” That was a loaded question.

  “Honestly, I was expecting more tattoos, scary guys with motorcycles and girls who looked like they could rip my spleen out with one hand.”

  He raised his pierced eyebrow. “So you thought my friends would be scary?”

  I leaned next to him on the counter, our shoulders touching, and sighed.

  “I don’t know. Are you mad at me?” I swirled the bottle in my hand.

  “Hey,” he said, bumping my shoulder lightly. “Do you think I’m scary?”

  “Well, the first time I met you, you did have fake fangs on, sooo…” I bumped him back.

  “Haha,” he said. “That is true.”

  “I’m not scared of you,” I said, lying through my teeth. I was terrified of him, but not in the way he thought. I was scared of how I felt around him.

  “I’m not scared of you, either.” Our eyes met and I thought he was going to kiss me, but a voice invaded our moment.

  “Hey, Stryk, do you think you could give my engine a look? It started making this noise on the way over, and you know that Baxter wouldn’t know a spark plug if it bit him on the ass,” Ric said with a little grin, appearing out of absolutely nowhere.

  “Yeah, sure. I’ll be right back.” He touched my shoulder and whispered in my ear, “Don’t get scared while I’m gone.”

  “I won’t,” I whispered back. Ric saw the exchange, and gave me the briefest of glares before turning on the charm with Stryker again.

  “Soooo, Pinky. Where the hell did you come from?” Allan said, coming back in with the smoking group.

  “Just ignore him,” Zoey said, going to the fridge. Out of all the girls, she was the least ‘modified,’ and just had a nose ring and had her light brown hair chopped into a messy bob. “That’s what I do.”

  “Oh, come on Zo. You know you want me,” he said, coming up behind her and pretending to kiss her neck. She jammed her elbow back, getting him in the gut, and he doubled over falling to the floor, groaning while everyone else laughed.

  Zoey put her foot on his chest, as if she was going to stomp on it. “For the millionth time, Allan, it’s never going to happen.”

  “Because I have a penis,” he moaned, still on the floor.

  “Yes, because you have a penis and you’re also a dick.” She ground her foot back and forth and then lifted it off him. He grinned up at her.

  “Not always.”

  She rolled her eyes and stepped over him, going back to the couch.

  “Are you okay?” I said. No one else seemed concerned about Allan, who was still writhing on the floor.

  “Yeah, I’m good.” He pushed himself up, using the counter to get fully vertical again. “She just shuts me down every time. I’m not a dick. Well, at least not most of the time.”

  “I’m reserving judgment,” I said, crossing my arms.

  He laughed, pointing at me. “I like you. I hope you stick around. Do you sing or play or anything?”

  “Ah, no. I’m just here as a groupie, I guess.” Stryker came back in, and it wasn’t my imagination that his eyes searched the room until he found me.

  “You have any sisters? Friends?” He winked and that made me laugh.

  “They’re taken. But nice try,” I said, walking past him and patting him on the shoulder. “There is a lid for every pot.”

  I sat down next to Stryker again.

  “How was the engine problem?” I said, resisting putting sarcastic emphasis on “engine problem.”

  His eyes widened in mock surprise. “There didn’t seem to be a problem. Can you imagine that?” I pretended to gasp.

  “I cannot.” We both laughed as everyone settled back into their spots.

  “Don’t worry about Ric. She’s not the one I want to fuck on this couch after I kick everyone out,” he whispered in my ear before swapping his mandolin with Zoey for his banjo.

  I’d said no this afternoon, but maybe it was the combination of the alcohol burning in my veins or the music burning in my ears, but I wanted him to throw everyone out right then and there and have my way with him. Not angry-revenge sex. Just hot, sweaty, passionate sex.

  They played “Beat The Devil’s Tattoo” again, followed by “Demons”, by Imagine Dragons and then “Letter to the President”, by a Maine band, The Rustic Overtones, followed by a crazy time when someone would yell out a random song and they’d all attempt to play it. Anything from commercial jingles to cheesy pop songs. Then Allan yelled out “We Are Never Getting Back Together!” and they started playing it.

  They didn’t quite know the lyrics, but that made it all the more entertaining.

  “Sing it out, Pinky!�
� Allan yelled as they mumbled their way through the verses. I’d finished my first drink and was on my second, so my walls were down a bit. I sang the words, and somehow my voice carried and everyone followed me. I didn’t try to do anything fancy, but somehow I was able to blend with the rest of them and sound okay. At least, not like an injured whale or one of those horrible tone-deaf people on American Idol.

  They ended the song with a bang and everyone laughed.

  “I knew you had it in you, girl,” Allan said, holding his fist out. I bumped it and got fist bumps from everyone else. Except Ric, of course.

  “You can sing,” Stryker said, looking at me as if I’d revealed that I had a box full of treasure hidden in my dorm room. I heard a scoffing sound coming from Ric’s direction.

  “I wouldn’t exactly call it that. I just like to sing in the car when I drive,” I said, shrugging. “Oh, and I was in chorus in sixth grade and I totally rocked ‘Jingle Bells’ at the holiday concert.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “Well, it’s getting late,” Stryker said, glancing at the clock on the DVD player. “You guys should probably get home. Don’t you all have things to do early tomorrow morning that you need to go to bed for?”

  “All right, all right. Stryker wants to get laid, everyone out,” Allan said, putting his guitar back in its case. “Some of us don’t get to have sex with the girls we want to all the time.”

  “Oh shut up, Allan,” Zoey said, getting her coat. “I am only giving you a ride if you are silent the entire way.”

  “I don’t know if I can promise that,” he said seriously. “Please?”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Fine. It was nice to meet you, Katie.” She waved and gave Allan a look.

  “Nice to meet you, too.”

  “Bye, Pinky!” Allan yelled from partway down the stairs.

  “Next week it’s your turn to host, Allan!” Stryker called as he helped everyone get their instruments back into their cases. I got good-byes and smiles and invitations to come back again. Ric looked like her teeth hurt when she said she wanted to see me again. I just gave her a sweet smile and shut the door behind her.

  “You can sing?” Stryker said, and I jumped because he was right behind me. I turned to face him.