Rebellious

by Gillian Archer

  Just then, I felt a tug on my dress.

  I pulled away from Reb and looked down at Tucker standing between us, and I had to smile. The kid was just too damn cute for words.

  “Can I dance with you?”

  Reb opened his mouth, but I jumped in before he could say anything.

  “Sure.”

  Reb raised his eyebrows. After a beat, he stepped away without a word. I took Tucker’s hand and let him do his interpretation of slow dancing, which mostly consisted of holding our arms in a large circle and occasionally spinning around. I had a blast. My cheeks hurt from smiling and laughing so much.

  It was good to see Tucker laughing, too. He’d asked a few times where his mom was, and Reb had told him she was visiting family back east. But actually, we didn’t know. After she ran up the stairs at Joker’s house, she’d never been seen again. She hadn’t shown up for any of their scheduled custody exchanges with Tucker. Odder still, her car hadn’t turned up, either. So either she ran or Joker did something to her and got rid of her car, too. But he hadn’t fessed up, so we didn’t know where she was. Reb was loath to tell Tucker the grim truth, so for now he went with a gentle lie.

  Reb also had a debt to settle with Michael and his family, since he hadn’t been the one stalking me these last couple months, after all. I wasn’t losing any sleep over it. After the hell Michael had put me through for so long, he’d been karmically due some pain. But apparently something else had happened at Michael’s house the night Joker and Rhonda had kidnapped me. Reb had been kinda light on the details—club business and all that. He’d tried to get ahold of the family over the past few days but so far hadn’t had any luck. It seemed like they’d all maybe moved to Texas or something.

  My pale pink bridesmaid’s dress billowed out as Tucker twirled me around for the fifth time. I was starting to get dizzy, but the music blissfully came to an end. I curtsied to my partner as the DJ took the mic.

  “We’d like to gather all the single ladies for the bouquet toss. Please, will all the single ladies come to the center of the dance floor.”

  I froze and threw a panicked look Reb’s way. He just laughed as he shrugged. Bastard.

  Tucker was oh so helpful, pushing me toward the center of the dance floor. “Come on, Emily. That’s you!”

  Yay.

  Soon I stood in a cluster of ten or so single women. I hung in the back with Nicole—who, like me, wore a pale pink bridesmaid dress and had her long hair twisted up in a complicated bun. Jessica had been adamant that we both have our hair up while hers was down. She’d gotten so high-strung the last week before the wedding, if she’d wanted us to wear poufy layers under our dresses we’d have agreed. Anything to get her to stop freaking out.

  Nicole passed me her longneck bottle and I took a gulp of her beer. God, this had been an endless week. But we both survived.

  I passed the bottle back to her and lamented as we watched Jessica take her position on top of a chair with her back to us. “I forgot to talk to Jessica about this farce. Why do brides still insist on having a bouquet toss? Do they love public humiliation or something?”

  The crowd around us chanted. “Five…Four…”

  “I tried to talk her out of it, but she wouldn’t listen to me,” Nicole lamented before taking another pull on her beer.

  “One!”

  The three women in front of me dived out of the way like a grenade had been tossed onto the dance floor.

  Wap.

  The bouquet smacked me right in the face. I put my hands out reflexively and caught the clutch of roses.

  Dammit.

  I smiled bravely and held up the bouquet as the audience cheered.

  Nicole smirked. “Better you than me.”

  I gave her a one-finger salute behind my back as Reb appeared in front of me and took my hands.

  Oh God. He really was going to ask me. Here. In front of everyone. Oh God.

  My respite had ended. Now I had to figure out what I was going to say.

  Reb bent toward me and kissed me hard. After a second I relaxed into his kiss as I forgot my nerves, the crowd, and, for a few seconds there, my own name. Soon Nicole cleared her throat loudly.

  “Um, guys. That’s really hot and all, but you do know you’re still in public right? And we have some young eyes here?”

  I pulled away with a gasp and batted Reb’s hand away from my breast. He chuckled at my glare, then grabbed Tucker by the hand and pulled him into our minicircle. My face flushed deeper at the knowledge that Tucker had seen us. Again. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to that.

  “We have something we want to ask you.” Reb’s voice rumbled, making me turn my focus to him. “Tucker?”

  Oh God.

  Tucker blinked his beautiful blue eyes at me, and I melted.

  “Emily? Would you move in with us?”

  I sagged with relief as my laughter bubbled up. “Yes.” I looked down at Tucker as a huge grin swept my face. “Of course I will.”

  “Yay!” He jumped in the air, then gave me a huge hug with his scrawny little arms.

  Reb’s arms enveloped us as we shared a group hug in the middle of the dance floor. I gave Reb a wobbly smile.

  “I thought—”

  “I know.” Reb smiled back at me. “Neither one of us is ready for that yet. But we might as well make our living arrangements official.”

  I had to laugh. He knew me so well. “God, I love you two.”

  “Right back at ya, sunshine.” Reb kissed my forehead.

  “Me, too!” Tucker smiled up at us.

  My heart melted all over again. God, I was so lucky.

  So lucky and so loved.

  To my own hero, Dave, for believing in me when I doubted myself. (Sorry for all the takeout!)

  Acknowledgments

  I’d like to thank my amazing critique buddies, Amy Isaman and Paisley Hendricks. You guys kept me on the path and my characters true to themselves. Thank you so much for all the frenzied reading at the last minute because I love to procrastinate so much. You guys rock!

  My writerly rock and safe place to fall, Sasha Devlin. I don’t know how I’d get through this crazy writing life without you to talk sense to me. And who else would I be able to get into so much trouble at conventions with? I love my partner in crime!

  To all the fabulous people at Loveswept—Gina, Erica, Ashleigh—thank you so much for all the hard work you guys do behind the scenes.

  My awesome editor, Sue Grimshaw, thank you for pushing me and making my story shine. I can’t wait to work on the next one with you!

  BY GILLIAN ARCHER

  True Brothers MC

  Ruthless

  Rebellious

  PHOTO: PAISLEY HENDRICKS

  GILLIAN ARCHER has a bachelor’s degree in mining engineering but prefers to spend her time on happily ever after. She writes the kind of stories she loves to read—the hotter the better! When she’s not pounding away on the keyboard, she can be found surfing the couch, indulging in her latest reality TV fixation, or baking something ridiculously tasty (and horrible for her waistline). Gillian Archer lives in the wilds of Nevada with her amazing husband, gorgeous new baby, and two goofy dogs.

  Want more from Gillian Archer?

  Facebook.com/​GillianArcherWrites/

  @gillianarcher

  gillianarcher.com

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  Read on for an excerpt from

  My Song for You

  A Pushing Limits Novel

  by Stina Lindenblatt

  Available from Loveswept

  Chapter 1

  Jared

  Loneliness was a bitch. True, that wasn’t the most convincing statement to say when surrounded by a group of screaming girls in a sports bar, eager to touch any part of your body they could get their hands on. And try telling that to a horny twentysomething guy. This place was a smorg
asbord of groupies interested in a quick lay.

  Not that I was complaining.

  So far I loved what I did for a living. I loved the fans, and I loved hanging out with the guys in the band, even during our last grueling tour. But that didn’t stop the nagging feeling that despite the music, the fans, and the band, despite how hard we had worked and how much we had sacrificed to get this far, something was missing.

  But hell if I knew what it was.

  “Oh my God,” the girl in a super-tight white tank top shrieked, jumping up and down on the polished floor. Her huge tits bounced like overinflated beach balls. “I can’t believe it’s you. You’re like my favorite guitarist of all time.”

  I flashed her the smile that always left girls sighing. Mason, the drummer for Pushing Limits, claimed the smile guaranteed I’d get laid. I wasn’t so sure about that. “Well, thanks. You just made my day.” I had already used the same tired line five times in the past fifteen minutes. But as long as the girls at the radio-station-sponsored event didn’t compare notes, they’d be fine.

  Flipping my lucky guitar pick between my fingers and across the back of my hand, I glanced at Nolan with his mob of fans. His girlfriend, Hailey, was standing to the side, talking to Kirk’s sister. Neither of them paid attention to the eager fans pawing at the individual members of the band. It wasn’t like the two women hadn’t seen it before. Although I had to admit I was impressed at how Hailey took it all in stride. Not all girlfriends were like that.

  A kiss on my cheek dragged me back to my own group of screaming fans. The girl with beach-ball tits grinned at the smartphone in her hand. Had she just taken a fucking selfie of her kissing me?

  “Okay, everyone,” Rebecca, one of the radio personalities, said through the speakers. It was early afternoon and the brightly lit sports bar had been rented for the event, which meant the TVs weren’t on, much to Kirk’s annoyance. I chuckled. His occasional glares aimed at the TVs meant one thing: he was missing out on a hockey game featuring his favorite team, the L.A. Kings.

  “May the games begin,” Rebecca continued once she had everyone’s attention. “And ladies, no mauling our special guests. You wouldn’t want to scare them off, right?”

  “Boo!” Mason’s loud voice exploded through the stale, beer-scented air. His lazy grin, bright against his light brown skin, was visible above his groupies’ heads. He wasn’t the only one disappointed at her suggestion. The girls crowded around him would’ve been more than happy to continue groping the bulky drummer—and the feeling was mutual when it came to Mas. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he already had some of their phone numbers.

  “Is everyone still in their assigned group?” Michael, the other radio personality, asked. His question was met with a chorus of yeses, shrieks, and hollers. “The first event is the beanbag toss. The winning team is the one with the most bags in their bucket at the end of three minutes.” He and Rebecca had us line up behind the throw line in the middle of the room. In total, fifty participants, with the girls easily outnumbering the guys, had won the chance to join us today.

  The two radio interns herded Nolan, Mason, Kirk, Aaron, and me to the front of our respective lines and handed us each our first beanbag. I returned my guitar pick to my back jeans pocket. And the game commenced.

  Cheers and groans filled the air as each person at the throw line quickly tossed their beanbag into their team’s bucket. I might have not been brilliant when it came to basketball, but I could hold my own. The beanbag landed smartly in the white bucket. I moved to the back of the line.

  The next person, a brunette in a tight black dress and stilettos, hurled her beanbag at the bucket as if the damn thing was burning her hand. She missed our bucket and almost scored a point for Aaron’s team.

  Before I knew it, all nine girls and the one guy in my group had finished their turns, and I was up again. Like last time, I nailed the bucket, but it wasn’t enough. A quick glance at the guys’ buckets warned me my team wasn’t doing too hot.

  A hand from behind me squeezed my ass. “My turn,” the I-want-to-fuck-you-all-night-long brunette said.

  I gave her both a brief nod and the grin that was reserved for groupies—the one that said, Any other time, I might’ve been interested—and walked to the end of the line again. The empty feeling trailed alongside, and I glanced at Nolan and Hailey. Both were lost in their own little world, despite the fans screaming and cheering around them. They smiled softly at each other in the way I was all too familiar with after being their roommate for a short time, ever since Hailey moved to L.A. to be with Nolan. Usually the look meant he was about to become one very happy guy—as my thin apartment walls could attest to.

  The ass-grabber joined me, and her gaze tore the jeans and T-shirt off my body. She leaned in, her breath against my ear. “I’d be all for you playing me like a guitar afterward.”

  I barked a laugh. And here I thought guys were the real winners when it came to lame pickup lines. “Thanks, but…but I have somewhere to be after this.”

  She flashed me a pout. “Maybe afterward?”

  “Maybe some other time.”

  She brightened, failing to see the lie for what it was, and slipped her fingers in my pocket. I had no idea if she was giving me her phone number, but she took the moment to cop a feel. And from the way she smiled at me, she liked what she felt.

  I stepped back and grabbed a beanbag from the bucket at the front of our line. But as I tossed it at the intended target, the brunette brushed her hand against my ass, again, and the bag missed its mark by a foot.

  The loud blast of a whistle ended the game. I didn’t need to count the number of beanbags to know we’d lost. Not that I really cared.

  “We won!” Mas hooted.

  “Wait till they’ve counted them, dumbass,” Kirk said next to him. He gave the drummer a brief glance before returning his attention to Rebecca, who was counting the beanbags. A former hockey player, our bassist was as competitive as they came.

  “I don’t need to wait, douchebag. My group is just that awesome.” Mason unleashed his grin on them again, and I swore some of his fans creamed in their panties, if their glazed expressions were any indication.

  “Maybe so, but up against my athletic prowess,” Kirk said, “you’re toast.”

  Mason smirked. “Bring it on, puck boy.”

  Rebecca jotted on her clipboard, then counted the beanbags in Aaron’s bucket.

  “Do you have a girlfriend, Jared?” asked a girl who could best be described as jailbait. The rest of my team waited for the answer with bated breath.

  I shook my head. “Not right now.”

  “So you aren’t dating Tiffany Grainger anymore?” the girl with giant tits asked.

  “No. We’re just friends.” I almost snorted at the “friends” part. I didn’t think we had ever been friends. Just on-again, off-again whatevers.

  “That’s too bad. You guys were perfect together.”

  I shrugged. “With our work schedules as they are, it was too difficult to spend time together.”

  The only other guy in my group chuckled. “Must be a tough life, dating a supermodel.”

  He didn’t realize how right he was, even if he had meant it another way.

  “And the winner of the beanbag toss is…” Michael paused for dramatic effect. “Kirk Helmson’s team.”

  Kirk’s group cheered, the girls jumping up and down like hyped-up cheerleaders. One actually did do a cartwheel, but her technique was far from impressive.

  “I demand a recount,” Mason yelled. His fans giggled. The rest of us laughed.

  “Man up, Mas,” Kirk replied. “My team won and you know it.”

  Mason folded his arms, chin raised. “You just watch. My team will destroy yours in the next game.” Mock defiance gleamed in his eyes.

  “Bring it on, drummer boy.”

  Welcome to what it had been like touring with them for the past year. They were always trying to outdo each other in whatever competiti
on they had going. The rest of us had long since learned to ignore them…and maybe place the occasional side bet.

  “Good to know nothing has changed between those two,” Nolan said to me as we waited for the next game to be set up. “I’d hate to lose our entertainment for the next tour.”

  “You mean you’d hate to lose out on winning more money from me.” He and Aaron, our keyboardist, beat me hands down when it came to our little side bets. The little side bets that neither Mason nor Kirk knew about.

  “Damn straight.”

  “So, Hailey,” I said, “you’re coming with us on our promo blitz, right?” Maybe then I’d have a chance of doing better in our betting game. She would unintentionally distract her boyfriend and he would screw up his bet. Or that was my plan, at least.

  “I hope so. Depends on if I can get the time off. Plus we’re expecting…a new family member.”

  Holy fuck! That was the last thing I’d expected. They had only been together for a few months, but who was I to judge? If anyone should know how easy it was to get a girl pregnant, it was me.

  “Well, um, congratulations.” I hugged Hailey and gave Nolan a one-armed hug. Fortunately, the fans were too busy listening to the sideshow entertainment between Mason and the radio personalities to notice our conversation.

  Nolan burst out laughing. “She’s not pregnant. We’re adopting a puppy.”

  Hailey laughed. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist.”

  “Not funny,” I grumbled, doing my best not to let them know how I really felt. Joking about pregnancy was never a funny matter.

  Shoving away the pain and betrayal from my past, I smiled. “So, when are you getting the new addition?”

  “Today,” Hailey said.

  From the look on my best friend’s face, you’d have thought Nolan was four years old and it was Christmas.

  Rebecca announced the next game—darts—and we returned to our respective teams. I spent the next hour flirting with the fans, signing autographs, and finding out what they loved about our songs and about the band. This was one of the things I loved most about what I did: interacting with the fans. The real fans. Not the groupies who were hoping to add us to their I-slept-with-a-celebrity tally. They usually couldn’t tell us what they loved about our music. We were just hot bodies as far as they were concerned.