Steal (Seaside Pictures)

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Steal (Seaside Pictures) Page 20

by Rachel Van Dyken


  Tears filled my eyes.

  And when they spilled over.

  I realized.

  I didn’t need him to kiss them way. To catch them.

  Because I knew who I was.

  Whose I was.

  His.

  “Yes.” I breathed. “Yes.”

  Hours later, I was almost asleep in his arms when he whispered, “What was the condition?”

  “That we move in together.” I yawned. “But this…” I scooted closer as he wrapped his arm tighter around my body. “So much better.”

  “Sleep.”

  “Okay…”

  He relaxed.

  “Will?”

  “What?”

  “We should have a no door rule…”

  He tensed. “Why?”

  “So we remember.”

  “Remember?”

  “How it started — that no matter what it started rocky, it may get rocky, but it’s good… so good.”

  “Messy. Chaotic. Perfect. Us.”

  “I CAN’T HEAR you, Chicago!” Zane yelled. “I said are you ready for some Adrenaline?”

  The roar was deafening.

  We’d sold out across the US and had to move to larger arenas, it was unreal.

  And I’d missed it so damn much that I was having a hard time wiping the grin from my face, though part of that could be because of Ang.

  She agreed to sing on some of our newer tracks.

  And I’d coerced her by way of sex into performing a few of them with us.

  It was what people wanted, especially after seeing the music video from the film, and even more so, after seeing the opening scene, the raw emotion in her eyes.

  And knowing our story.

  The whole story.

  The whole damn thing.

  Word for word. Written out in our new album, for the world to see.

  Andrew wrote half.

  I wrote half.

  And then we traded, added things to each other’s riffs, made sure the lyrics worked, and then very amicably went into the studio to record with the rest of the group.

  It was intense.

  We still barely spoke any words to each other beyond “hi,” and “did you see Wes Michels throw that touchdown last week?”

  That was it.

  I know it hurt Ang just as much as it hurt me, because even though our story had a happy ending, Andrew was still suffering with even living his own out.

  “One more time!” Zane yelled.

  Ty grabbed his drumsticks and did a countdown.

  I pulled my guitar over my shirtless body.

  Andrew put in his headphones.

  “It’s all yours.” Zane ran off stage, sweat sticking to his body. “I’m ready for a cheeseburger.”

  “You eat all the burgers, I’m short sheeting your bed!” Ty yelled. “You know they order those for me.”

  “All that gooey cheese.” Zane sighed.

  Fallon smacked him on the back of the head. “Stop provoking him!” She turned to us, “Okay guys, you have the first three songs in a set, no intros until after, Zane said the noise was deafening so if all else fails just wing it…”

  “God, you’re amazing.” Zane kissed her.

  I groaned and shook my head. All the wives, girlfriends, and significant others had jobs. It was easier to hire them than a tour company; it kept everyone in check.

  Something hit my ass.

  “Hey big star, can I have your autograph?” Ang’s eyes glittered as she pulled me in for a kiss. “Thought I’d take some time away from all the food to show you guys something.” She pulled out her cell and turned it toward us her giant four karat diamond glistening in the lights. “Number one on the Billboard charts!”

  The drumsticks fell out of Ty’s hand.

  None of us thought it was possible.

  There was too much competition, and we were old for crying out loud!

  Okay, not as old as some musicians but still.

  “Ohhhh yeah.” Zane hung his arm around me. “Alec’s going to be pissed, they held that spot for eight weeks.” He called back. “Hey Demetri, tell Alec he sucks!”

  The crowd started chanting our name.

  I kissed Ang one last time and locked eyes with Andrew.

  He gave me a nod, a ghost of a smile on his face as we both walked out first.

  Always first.

  The leaders.

  And when he stopped in front of his mic.

  When I stood in front of mine.

  He turned at me and smiled a real smile.

  I strummed my guitar, he followed. The music flowed.

  The intensity of the crowd was so tangible that it was hard to breathe, it hurt your chest, like people were screaming against your body, so when it was time for AD2 to pop on stage and do their set, I thanked the music gods and went in search of my girl.

  I knew where she’d be.

  Backstage with the fans.

  Keeping the groupies in line.

  Making sure nobody approached us.

  Her resting bitch face easily did the trick with the ladies, and to think all this time we used guys to keep them away.

  Besides that, she was pregnant so people didn’t mess with her.

  I didn’t mess with her.

  She held a cheeseburger in one hand and was signing an autograph with the other.

  “More adoring fans?” I crooned.

  Girls screamed.

  I only had eyes for her.

  She held the cheeseburger between us. “I don’t know what I want more.”

  “Don’t worry.” I laughed. “You can have both, I know the caterer.”

  She kissed me and then took a huge bite out of her burger and winked.

  More screaming ensued when the rest of the guys made it to the backstage area.

  Andrew took one look at all the girls and went in the opposite direction.

  Ang’s smile fell. “He needs… someone. Something. Help. Anything.”

  “Someone say help?” Jay walked up and handed her a napkin. “Because I find I’m quite the matchmaker.”

  “Bullshit, you’re a meddler.” I groaned. “And the last thing Andrew needs is… you.”

  “My heart.” Jay pounded his chest, a nearby girl fainted. Sad to say it was normal, all of us in one place, people passing out, girls having to take the ambulance away.

  I didn’t even flinch, just made sure she was okay and sighed when Andrew walked back in, grabbed food, and left.

  “Okay,” I sighed, “I’m listening.”

  Jay crossed his arms. “Send his ass to Seaside.”

  “That place is cursed.” Linc tried to steal Ang’s hamburger. “Send a dude there and guarantee he’s going to find a girlfriend.”

  Ang gave me a hopeful look.

  I scowled.

  Just as Zane approached with one of the most intense looking guys I’d ever seen in my entire life.

  Jay took a step back.

  Ang half hid behind me and Linc must have choked on his spit.

  “For the record, I wasn’t lying.” Zane said defensively, “This is my cousin Nixon, he and his wife are big fans.”

  “Hey.” I didn’t know what else to say to him. He looked like he ate Andrew whole, and the guy behind him probably ate humans as a snack. “Thanks, that means a lot.” I added.

  His lips curled into a frosty smile, “Yeah well, it’s our anniversary and—”

  I heard a little yelp.

  And then a gorgeous girl with dark hair was shoving Nixon out of the way and handing me something to sign. “I think you’re the best.

  Nixon seemed irritated, even though he didn’t as much as flinch.

  “Um, thank you.” I was torn between signing the poster and telling her I knew a cop once… I mean, this guy? She was his total opposite. “What’s your name?”

  “Trace.” She smiled brightly. “But can you make it to Nixon, we both know that he’s the true fan here.”

  Zane burst out lau
ghing.

  I shot him, a please don’t get us killed look.

  And then Nixon’s face cracked as he pulled her in for a kiss, “You’ll pay for that.”

  “I’m counting on it.” She sighed happily.

  Leave it to Zane to ruin the special moment by saying, “So, if I need someone killed—”

  “Zane!” I yelled.

  The guy behind Nixon smiled cruelly. “You know where to find us if you need any… help.”

  “Right.” I quickly gave Trace back the poster, we took a picture, and then they were gone.

  “I almost shit myself.” Jay muttered once they were out of earshot. “Zane, a little warning next time?”

  “What?” Zane shrugged, “He contacted me.”

  “Your number’s unlisted.” I said.

  He nodded. “Right.”

  AD2 ended another song, and the crowd went wild while Demetri and Alec ran backstage to grab some water before the final set with all of us.

  “You missed it!” Jay yelled, “The mafia guys were here!”

  “Bullshit!” Demetri laughed as sweat ran down his face. “I’ll believe it when I see it!”

  Zane grabbed his phone.

  “Don’t!” We all yelled in unison, just in time for Andrew to walk back in and duck his head.

  “Hey Dem, you know that album you were going to record with us?”

  “Yup.” He took a swig of water.

  “Let’s lay some tracks in Seaside.”

  He started choking violently on his water and wiped his mouth. “Why? Why am I always going back to Seaside? Why, God, why?”

  “Because.” Alec nudged him, “It’s home.”

  Everyone shared a knowing look.

  Andrew had no idea what was coming.

  I hoped it would stay that way.

  He just had to agree to it.

  RACHEL VAN DYKEN is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she's not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.

  She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!

  Want to be kept up to date on new releases? Text MAFIA to 66866!

  You can connect with her on Facebook or join her fan group Rachel's New Rockin Readers. And make sure to check out her website.

  Eagle Elite

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  The Bet Series

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  Strung

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  Seaside Pictures

  Capture

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  Steal

  Waltzing With The Wallflower

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  Curious Liaisons

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  www.rachelvandykenauthor.com

 

 

 


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