Rock Rebel

by Tara Leigh

  Delaney shook her head. “Well, we have a few months before you can hold your hard-working mammary glands over us. In the meantime, can we stay focused on Verity’s love life?”

  “Good idea,” Piper agreed, turning the full force of her undivided attention on me. “So, who has you farting rainbows this morning?”

  I squirmed in the hard-backed chair of the restaurant. “I’d rather hear about your last sonogram. Any more of those 4D pictures?”

  Delaney burst out with a laugh. “So you’re really not going to admit what’s going on between you and Dax?”

  This time both Piper and I gaped at Delaney. Piper recovered first. “Dax? Verity’s been hanging out with Dax?”

  “Are you kidding? The man is so into Verity he doesn’t know what to do.”

  A frown creased Piper’s brow. “I think it’s scaring me that you’re actually making sense, and I was completely oblivious.”

  “Well, pregnancy is obviously stealing some of your brain cells, because the chemistry between those two is off the charts. Did you see them at the party? They could barely take their eyes, or hands, off each other.”

  Piper glanced down at her belly. “Firefly, you’re really letting me down here.” Now that she was in her third trimester, Piper’s belly was obvious, but so far her appetite hadn’t increased anything else. She looked like she had sliced a basketball in half and shoved one part beneath her shirt.

  The waiter appeared with our food, placing a steaming bowl of pasta in front of Piper and setting down salads in front of Delaney and me. As Piper watched him grate Parmesan over her meal, she gave her belly a reassuring pat. “I take that back. You’re doing fabulous.”

  I squeezed fresh lemon over my lettuce and forked a bite into my mouth. I’d eat dirt if it meant not having to add to the conversation. But all this talk about Dax had brought memories of last night front and center in my mind. I’d never known sex could be like that. Dax had been completely in control and yet entirely attuned to my responses. He’d given me exactly what I wanted, what I needed, all night long. And somehow I’d managed to please him, too. No matter how often he had reached for me in the middle of the night, or I’d reached for him, we were always ready, as if our bodies had been starved for each other and couldn’t get enough.

  Realizing I was frozen, my fork hovering midair between my plate and my mouth, I blinked away the steamy memories only to find Piper and Delaney staring at me again. “Girl, you have it bad,” Delaney crooned.

  Luckily, Piper was prevented from chiming in when the phone she kept beside her plate started buzzing. Shoving a bite of gnocchi in her mouth, she picked it up and began texting furiously. “Well, so much for this afternoon’s fitting. Apparently the designer’s muse didn’t show up for work today, so he’s closing up shop and will let us know when he, and his muse, feel like working again.”

  I wasted no time clearing a space on my plate and stealing some of Piper’s starchy deliciousness. “Hey!”

  I shoved a gnocchi in my mouth, groaning in pleasure. “My muse is hungry.”

  Piper sniffed, pulling her plate back. “Well, your muse clearly built up an appetite from all those orgasms last night.”

  My skin blazed. “I’m pleading the Fifth.”

  “I’m sure you did plenty of pleading last night, too,” Delaney teased, her fork a flash of silver as she stabbed one of Piper’s gnocchi.

  These two knew exactly what Dax and I had done last night…and yet they had no idea. I wanted to gush about every moment. I wanted to proclaim Dax’s penis Master of the Universe—or, at the very least, Master of My Universe. But somehow I had a feeling Dax wouldn’t appreciate being the subject of an intense gossip session, even if my contribution was to sing his praises like a canary.

  Piper glared at Delaney when she stole another gnocchi. “The two of you are taking food from a pregnant woman’s mouth. You should be ashamed of yourselves.”

  “If you would do more eating and less talking, we wouldn’t be able to take anything,” Delaney shot back.

  I loved watching the interplay between Piper and Delaney. Piper had mentioned that they’d been frenemies back in high school, but I couldn’t imagine it. They reminded me of sisters that adored each other despite their constant bickering. I felt lucky that they’d included me in their friendship. Besides my grandmother, I’d never had any true friends growing up. I never connected with anyone from school, and in Hollywood, it was hard to make friends with peers I was constantly competing against—for auditions, lines, air time. Even though Piper and Delaney had spent most of our lunch grilling me about Dax, I was savoring every moment.

  Delaney turned to me. “Okay, I get that you don’t want to share all the down-and-dirty details. But here’s what I want to know—does Dax actually talk to you?”

  I nearly spit out my iced tea. “Does he talk to me?”

  “That came off weird, I know. But he’s always so quiet.”

  Dax was definitely the strong, silent type. “I don’t know that I’d ever call him a chatterbox, I guess, but he’s pretty open one-on-one.”

  “And how much one-on-one time have you been having?” Piper prodded.

  “Enough.” I glanced down at my lap, smoothing out my napkin. “Enough to know I want to spend more time with him.” A lot more.

  I felt their eyes meet over my head. “So you and Dax…you’re a thing now. A couple?”

  I rushed to shake my head. “No.” And then I paused. Are we? What we did last night wasn’t a one-night stand. Not for me, anyway. “I don’t know what we are, except for new. This is all very new.”

  Somehow that word felt right. New wasn’t bad or good, confining or dismissive. It just was. New. It fit.

  Piper made a small grunt and set down her fork across her empty plate. She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over the swell of her belly.

  I glanced between the two of them, prickles of discomfort staggering across my skin like spiders’ legs. “What? Is it so crazy to believe Dax would be interested in me?”

  Delaney was the first to reach across the table, closing her fingers over my hand. “That’s not what we meant at all. For god’s sake, you could have any man eating out of the palm of your hand.”

  That was just the facade. A carefully constructed image that had been created by everyone else but me. “So he’s only interested in me because of what I look like?”

  Delaney’s expression didn’t change. “Of course not. I don’t know you very well yet, but you’re not at all what I expected you to be—in a good way. Dax would be a fool not to fall for you.”

  “Thank you.” I squeezed her hand, an appreciative smile tugging at my lips.

  I was distracted by a flash of white out of the corner of my eye and looked over to see Piper dabbing at her eyes. She waved a hand in front of her face and blew her nose into the napkin. “Don’t mind me. Just over here, pregnant and alone.”

  I felt a stab of sympathy. Here I was, getting all prickly when Delaney was just trying to say something nice. Piper had real issues to worry about. A baby on the way. Single motherhood. The insecurities that had built up over so many years, becoming a protective mantle I wore like armor, slipped just a bit. “Piper, I’m—”

  Her phone started vibrating again, and Piper picked it up, flashing the screen at me with a rueful huff. “Someone’s looking for you.”

  “Dax?” I dug in my purse for my own phone, and sure enough there were several texts asking when I would be through for the day.

  And just like that, my armor slipped a little further, my lips twisting back into a smile as joy thrummed within my veins. I glanced back up at Delaney and Piper, trying to school my expression back into nonchalance so Piper wouldn’t cry again. Instead she started laughing, and Delaney quickly chimed in.

  “Write him back,” Piper finally said. “I’ll be in touch when the designer, or his muse, is ready to work again.”

  “Yeah,” Delaney added. “And maybe Piper and I
will go shop for baby clothes.”

  “You don’t have to hover over me, D. Shane is probably clawing at the walls wondering when you’re coming back home.”

  “Don’t be silly. We’re going to have a long-overdue girls day. Shane’s working on a new song, but he’s having a hard time without Landon.”

  “Speaking of, have you had any news on Landon? Where he is, when he’s coming back?”

  I had begun typing out a response to Dax, but I looked up at the sound of Piper’s voice. Barely more than a whisper, it was threaded with tension, her skin several shades paler than it had been just a few moments ago.

  Delaney shook her head, dark strands swooshing over her shoulders. “No, just that he’s supposed to be back in L.A. soon.”

  My publicist swallowed heavily, a faraway look in her eyes as she rubbed her belly. Maybe if Piper and I had the kind of relationship she had with Delaney, I would have pressed her on it. But looking between the two women, it was clear that there was an entire backstory that Piper wasn’t ready to share with me. Deciding to give them their space, I scooted my chair back and dropped my napkin onto my plate. “I’m going to head out.”

  “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Piper advised, forcing cheer into her voice.

  “What is that, exactly?”

  She blinked. “Give your heart to someone who doesn’t deserve it.”

  For a moment there was silence, and I felt the full weight of Piper’s sadness like a kick to the ribs. I reached for my chair. Dax could wait.

  But Delaney shooed me away. “Don’t you dare—there are no more invitations to this pity party. Go. Have fun with Dax. And not that you should take unsolicited advice from anyone, but ignore Piper over here. Don’t be afraid of taking chances—life’s too short to play it safe.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Dax

  The look of happy surprise on Verity’s face made pulling the stalker move of tracking her down worth it. I lowered my window as she crossed the curb. “Hop in.”

  She threw a last look at the photographers that had erupted into a frenzy the second she walked out the door, ducking into my front seat with a grin like she was playing hooky from school. “I only wrote you back a minute ago. How’d you get here so fast?”

  I made a right at the next corner, checking my rearview mirror for a tail, but no one had followed us. I exhaled, my hands loosening on the wheel. “How else? Someone tweeted a picture of you in there. And because the social media bots seem to read my mind, I got an alert on my phone.”

  Verity groaned. “I hope they didn’t catch me stealing pasta off Piper’s plate, or there will be a story about me battling an eating disorder by tomorrow.”

  I glanced sideways at her, sitting in the front seat of my car like it was her rightful place and I’d been too stupid to realize it until now. “Does it ever bother you?”

  “What?”

  “Celebrity. Fame. Never knowing what someone’s motives are for getting to know you.”

  “Sometimes, I guess. I was pushed into the spotlight before I knew how bright the lights were, or that even the tiniest flaws had no chance of remaining hidden.” She checked that the door was locked before leaning her back against it, angling her body toward me. “But I’m probably not the best person to ask about getting to know people.”

  “No?” My interest was piqued. “Why not?”

  She shrugged, red hair bouncing on her shoulders. “I can’t remember the last person I met who didn’t pursue a relationship with me because of who I was.” That laugh of hers trickled out, tap-dancing into my eardrums. “Not you though. I think it’s fair to say we’re hanging out in spite of who I am, not because of it.”

  I wrapped my hand around her knee, lightly squeezing it as my laughter mingled with hers. “You don’t mind me dragging you away from your girlfriends?”

  “Nope. Where are you dragging me to?”

  “Ah.” I flashed her a wink. “It’s a surprise.”

  She groaned. “I hate surprises.”

  “I think you’re going to like this one. And we’re almost there.”

  A few minutes later I pulled into a nondescript industrial park, loving the confused little frown pulling at Verity’s brows as she took in the car repair shops, office buildings, and warehouses lining the street. Shutting off the ignition, I came around to Verity’s side to help her out.

  “Where are we?”

  Throwing one arm around Verity’s narrow shoulders, I led her across the parking lot and pointed at the easy-to-miss sign. “A brewery.”

  “Oh.” I felt her earlier excitement deflate a little. “Is this where you buy your beer?”

  Pulling open the door, I ushered her into the industrial-looking space. “No. Their specialty is cider.”

  Verity’s eyes widened, understanding creeping into her expression. “You found a place that makes apple cider?”

  My grin stretched further. “The sparkling kind.”

  But that wasn’t all. Waving at the burly man hunched over a barrel in the yawning space, I led Verity into a small room just a few feet from where we were standing. The brewery wasn’t open to the public today, but the owner was apparently a big Nothing but Trouble fan, which made the plan I’d formulated over the course of the morning that much easier to put into place.

  “I thought we’d have a cider tasting.”

  We had just sat down at the long trestle table when the door opened and Sam, the owner who had been fussing with one of the barrels in the back earlier, came in. “Hey there.”

  But Verity’s eyes weren’t on Sam. They were on what he was holding.

  “Oh my god.” Verity clapped a hand over her mouth, her blazing green gaze barely contained by a set of thick lashes. As Sam set the champagne flutes on the table between us, she dropped her hand, revealing cheeks the sweetest shade of pink. “Amber glass and hollow stems…just like my grandmother’s.”

  Sam started to explain about the brewing process, but Verity cut in. “Excuse me. I’m sorry. But those glasses…Is there any chance I can buy them from you?”

  Sam glanced from her to me and back again, looking unsure whether he would be saying too much if he told Verity I’d brought them myself. “Uh, I’m not really sure—”

  I saved him the trouble. “They’re yours.”

  Verity blinked at me, confusion and hope radiating from her expression.

  “I found them, Verity. I bought them for you.”

  One minute she was sitting opposite me and the next she’d flung herself into my lap. Sam took that as his cue to leave. “I’ve looked so many times, so many places. How—where?”

  “I hit a few flea markets.”

  “You? I brought you to the nicest one in L.A. and you were not a fan.”

  “I made an exception this morning.” When it came to Verity, I was making all kinds of exceptions. The damn girl was worth every single one.

  “So you found them at a flea market? Which one?”

  “Not exactly. I struck out three times. But then I started talking to one of the vendors and described your grandmother’s glasses to him. He remembered hearing about a garage sale up in Glendale where the woman collected crystal.”

  “So…you went to three flea markets, then to a garage sale in Glendale?” Her expression was incredulous. “For me?”

  Incredulous. And heartbreaking. Verity Moore—teen star, fallen pop princess, a huge talent on the verge of a major comeback—was looking at me like an abused puppy being offered a treat. Almost as if she didn’t believe me. That I might be faking it. Pulling a stunt to get her within kicking range.

  I shrugged, heat rising up the back of my neck at Verity’s scrutiny. “It’s no big deal.”

  “No big deal,” she repeated, her eyes shimmering as she blinked up at me. “It the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.” Her voice trembled, a single tear shaking free and sliding down her cheek like a liquid diamond.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off it. Tha
t lone droplet charting a path across her flawless skin. Leaving a streak that twisted up my insides and squeezed out every last remaining doubt about her, about us.

  I lifted one hand to curve around her face, swiping at the tear with my thumb until it was nothing but a dewy shimmer cresting the rise of her cheekbone.

  And then I reached for the two glasses, handing one to Verity. “Cheers, True. You made me believe chances are there for the taking. That risks have rewards, even for me.”

  She smiled and clinked her rim against mine.

  As the sweet cider fizzed against my tongue, I wrapped my arm more tightly around Verity’s waist, the indent between her hip and rib cage the perfect hand rest.

  Verity Moore made me believe.

  And this choose happy theory…It was brilliant.

  Verity

  My mother was proving to be more intractable than Travis had given her credit for. Not that I was surprised. The woman was a complete mule when it came to getting what she wanted. And what she wanted was me.

  Not as a daughter, of course. She hadn’t made a single attempt to speak with me directly. Her only interest in me was as a client. Her very own golden goose.

  Travis had offered to let me stay in a house he owned nearby, and I’d considered renting a place of my own, but every time I brought up either option, Dax told me not to bother, that we’d be on tour in another few months.

  So in the meantime, we were living together.

  Yeah.

  Color me shocked.

  Truthfully, Dax’s home felt more comfortable to me than the ostentatious Beverly Hills house. My mother was still there, giving interviews to whatever gossip outlets were willing to print her ridiculous sob stories about me—her unappreciative daughter.

  Both Travis and Piper wanted me to sit down for a prime-time interview, like Shane did after news of his business relationship with Delaney leaked. So far I’d refused, reminding them that Shane’s interview had led to his arrest not long after. If I gave them nothing but pithy press releases and carefully crafted statements, the story would blow over soon.