Wylder and the Rising Rockstar (Reluctant Rockstars Book 3)

by Michelle MacQueen

  “Where have you been?”

  “An appointment.” She hid a grin as she echoed her dad’s words and unlocked her door. She needed to tell Logan everything that happened. It wasn’t right of her family to want her to keep the secret. But she’d also seen the desperation in Luke’s eyes. He wasn’t ready to face them.

  Turns out, Logan didn’t give her a chance. He held a notebook in front of him as he followed her in. “I had a complete breakthrough in math.”

  “Not words you hear often.” Wylder removed her shoes and coat, actually putting them away for once.

  Logan was practically bouncing with excitement. “I wrote lyrics, Wylds.”

  She turned to him, taking in his goofy grin, the shine in his eyes. He’d been unable to write actual lyrics since the truth about Luke came out, about what he did. It hadn’t been long by most standards, but for a guy who lived and breathed music, it had been big.

  “I thought you were just working on the instrumentals.”

  “I was. But then I started thinking about it. Wylds, nothing that has happened is the end. We’re still only eighteen—“

  “Speak for yourself.” She prided herself on being nineteen.

  “We have so much ahead of us.”

  “Who is this optimistic guy, and what has he done with Logan?” She sort of liked this version. Who was she kidding? She liked every version. When she’d been yelling at Luke, the thought came to her that she’d do anything to keep Logan from hurting. And right now, that meant not ruining this moment by telling him Luke was in Twin Rivers, that he’d been right here the whole time.

  She’d tell him. She needed to. But right now, she wanted to let him have this happiness that had been so hard to come by.

  Logan handed her the notebook, and she took in the words of the verse and chorus he’d written. When she looked back up at him, insecurity shone in his eyes. She wanted to take all doubt away from him.

  Stepping close, she reached up on her toes to press her lips to his. He responded immediately as he always did, taking whatever she was willing to give. But what if she wanted to give more? More than kisses and distractions.

  What if she wanted them to have it all?

  “The words are perfect, Logan.” She pulled back, his smile replacing the awfulness that was this day, the heaviness brought on by guilt in her heart.

  His smile dimmed. “It’s too bad we won’t get to perform them.”

  “I thought you didn’t even want to do the show?”

  “Yes, but you did. So, I would have.” There had to be something deeper to that, something more than friendship. Fear kept the question from rolling off her lips, the lie by omission burning on her tongue.

  Whatever they had, he wouldn’t forgive her for not telling him where Luke was, but she knew her dad was right. Luke deserved time—as long as he didn’t take too much.

  Her phone buzzed, and she lifted it to see Nicky’s name. He was finally returning her call. She hit ignore. She understood why they’d all lied to her, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

  Which was exactly how she knew the pain Logan would feel when he found out.

  Maybe some kinds of pain were better than others. If he saw Luke now, his twin would push him to the breaking point, forever cracking their relationship. He wasn’t in any shape for reconciliation. But a little more time with her parents and maybe he would be.

  At least that was what she told herself to keep the churning in her gut at bay.

  7

  “Let’s try increasing the tempo here.” Wylder tapped her drumstick against the scribbled sheet music. “Like this.” She hummed the melody she and Logan were working on. He still wasn’t happy with it, and they’d been at it for hours. It was the most fun Wylder could remember having in ages.

  “Hum it for me again, I like that part.” Logan erased several notes from the page, rewriting it to reflect the tempo change. “You’re good at this.”

  “Hey, don’t sound so surprised.” Wylder drummed her sticks on his knee. “I have done this before, you know.”

  “You could do it professionally. We make a great team.”

  “We do.” Those pesky ferocious things in her stomach flapped their wings again.

  “I’ve never been able to work with another songwriter before, you know. Well, other than Luke.” He laid back on her bed, studying the sheet music with an adorable frown on his face.

  No, it’s not adorable. Frowns are not cute, Wylder. Her stomach chose that moment to let out an epic growl. She glanced down at herself and up at Logan. “I forgot to eat dinner.” Her jaw dropped. “I don’t think I’ve ever forgotten a meal before.”

  Logan’s shoulder shook with laughter. “The look on your face right now is priceless.” He glanced at the clock on her nightstand. “Dining hall’s closed, but we still have some time left to order a pizza before security closes up for the night.”

  “Oh, wait! I have leftover Chinese.” Wylder rushed into the common room to root around in the fridge.

  “You have enough for two in there? I’m starving.” Logan patted his belly as he stretched up to reach the doorframe.

  Wylder ducked back into the fridge to avoid staring at his abs peeking below his shirt as he stretched. “Um, whose room are you in?”

  “Wylder’s, Queen of the snackies.” Logan came up behind her.

  “Exactly, I’ve got this.” She spread out the containers of leftover Chinese food and started pulling things from the cabinet. “We’ve got lo mein noodles, pot stickers, pad thai and pork fried rice … and nacho makings.”

  “I feel indigestion coming my way in the very near future.” He reached over her head and into the cabinet behind her. “Wylds, do my eyes deceive me, or do you have protein bars in here?”

  “I stole them from Killian’s room. Did you know those have chocolate in them? They’re delicious.” She pulled down plates and opened containers for their buffet-style potluck dinner.

  “And unless you’re a major athlete with an epic exercise routine, they’re super fattening.”

  “Your point?” She stared up at him with a smirk.

  “How are you so thin? I’m serious, scientists should study you.”

  “I’m so not thin, but thank you … I think.”

  “You are a perfect, Wylder sized nutritional phenomenon … and that’s a compliment.” Logan winked and started loading up his plate.

  “That one’s hot, babe,” Wylder swatted his hand away from the Szechuan chicken. His tolerance for spice was zero.

  “Thanks, babe.” He smirked, popping her plate into the microwave first.

  “We need drinks!” She stuck her head in the tiny fridge to cool her face. Did I just call him babe? What the heck is wrong with me? “I’ve got bottled tea and seltzer water, and we can always steal Devyn’s Diet Dr. Pepper.”

  “I’m good with seltzer water.” Logan gathered the empty cartons and tossed them into the trash.

  “You want a side of nachos?” Wylder reached for the unopened bag of chips.

  “Maybe after the Chinese settles and we get hungry again.” The microwave chimed, and he retrieved her plate, popping his in to heat next. “Go eat. I’ll bring the drinks in a sec.”

  “I’ll find us a show.” Wylder retreated to her room, fluffing up the pillows against her headboard so they could sit and binge a few episodes of something on her laptop while they ate their late dinner. “Fantasy, sci-fi, comedy, or horror?” She shouted.

  “Depends,” he called back. “Show or movie?”

  “Show.”

  “Horror’s good, have you seen Haunting of Hill House on Netflix?”

  “I love that show, but I’ve only seen a few episodes.”

  Logan came in balancing his plate on top of their drinks. “I’ve seen it a few times. It’s one of my go-to shows so pick up where you left off. It has such a creepy, twisty plot, I catch something new every time I watch it.” He closed the door behind him and turned to her. “Grab my p
late, will you?” He placed a knee on her bed.

  Wylder took his plate so he could set their drinks on the side table, and he climbed onto the bed next to her, leaning back against the headboard. “Your bed is way more comfortable than mine.” He kicked his feet up and balanced his plate on his lap.

  Wylder was suddenly very aware of his presence in her room, and she really liked how at home he was.

  “Oh, this is the one with the Bent-Neck Lady. It’s so creepy.”

  “Perfect.” Wylder hit play and scooted closer to Logan. Friend Logan. Friends who liked to kiss and called each other babe. Friends who were totally comfortable with each other and not at all interested in defining what kind of friends—or more—they actually were. That’s not annoying at all. She shoveled a forkful of Szechuan chicken into her mouth and tried to focus on the show, but she was more interested in watching Logan watch the show.

  Wylder groaned and stretched.

  “Ow, that was my eye, babe,” Logan grumbled into her ear.

  Her eyes flew open. She laid curled against Logan’s side, and his arm rested around her waist. Holy crap, Logan Cook is in my bed, spooning me. She couldn’t seem to get her eyes to go back to their normal size.

  “We fell asleep.” Wylder rolled toward him.

  “Yes, we did.” He still had his eyes closed, and his voice was rough with sleep.

  “We fell asleep all night.”

  “Your bed is amazing, but it’s frickin’ freezing in here.” He pulled her closer and gathered the blankets around them.

  She lifted her hand to cover her mouth. “Right? It’s not normal for a room to be this cold.”

  “I’ll ask maintenance to come in and check the seals on your windows. That should fix it.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Why are you hiding behind your hands?” His eyes were open now, but he still looked half asleep. She liked sleepy Logan.

  “I’m rocking some epic Szechuan chicken morning breath over here. It’s not good.” She grimaced, wishing she’d had a chance to brush her teeth before he woke up.

  “I have morning breath too, you know.” He kissed her cheek and snuggled closer, laying his head on the pillow beside hers. “I won’t hold it against you. Besides, you have really cute bedhead. ’S not fair.” He yawned.

  Wylder burrowed into his chest, enjoying his warmth.

  “I had fun last night,” she whispered, not sure how to do pillow talk.

  “I always have fun with you, Wylds. Songwriting is a lot less stressful with you.”

  “We make a good team.” She picked at the edge of her new down comforter.

  “I love the new song.” He sighed. “I never like my songs when they’re finished. There’s always a bit of a letdown when I realize they’re finished, but they don’t measure up to what I had in my head.”

  “I know exactly what you mean. I hate most of my songs.”

  “But this one is perfect.”

  “It is.” She hummed the chorus she’d helped write.

  “I’ve never had this.” Logan turned to look at her. “A friend I can really count on. I was thinking about it last night while we were watching Hill House. I don’t think I have a single secret from you. You know all my shortcomings, and you’re still here.”

  “Like a bad penny.” She forced a smile over the lump in her throat. He might not have any secrets from her, but she was holding on to a big one. He was so happy right now in their little bubble, she didn’t want to burst it with talk of Luke. She’d tell him later. It was what she’d kept telling herself since finding him at her parents’ house a few days ago.

  Logan laid back, staring up at the ceiling. “The rest of my life is falling apart, but you’re like this rock, keeping me steady. I want to be with you, Wylder Anderson.” He turned back toward her.

  Wylder couldn’t help the megawatt smile that lit her face at his words.

  “I’m tired of just hanging out. We have fun when we’re together, but I want something real with you.”

  “Are you asking me to be your girlfriend, Logan Cook?” That monster in her stomach was making a lot of racket down there.

  “I am.” He leaned down to press a kiss to her lips, but he pulled back with a frown. “You know, I finally realize why we can’t ever get you out of bed for breakfast in the mornings. It’s freezing in here, but this bed is so warm and cozy there’s no way I’m leaving it any time soon. I hope that’s okay, but I live here now.”

  Wylder laughed and pulled the blankets up to her chin. “Well, if we want breakfast of any sort, we’re going to have to get it at the dining hall, we ate all of my food last night.”

  “Wylds, you’ve got to get up.” Devyn came barging into her room, still in her pajamas. “Oh, hey Logan.” Devyn pounced on the bed and reached to open the drapes.

  “No!” Logan and Wylder groaned, covering their eyes from the bright sunlight.

  “Look.” Devyn pointed down toward the quad in the distance.

  “What’s going on down there?” Wylder sat up. They could barely see what was happening, but a stream of students made their way from the dorms to the courtyard holding up signs.

  “It’s the music and theater students. They’re protesting the cancelation of the Winter Review. You guys should get down there.”

  Wylder shot out of bed and reached for her jeans, pulling them over the thermal leggings she’d slept in. “You coming?” She glanced at Logan as she stepped into her closet for a sweater, and Devyn left them for whatever she did on Saturday mornings when she didn’t have a horse show thing.

  “Yep, I’m working on it.” Logan reluctantly left the cozy bubble they’d shared all night.

  Wylder would have to think about that later. And the thing he’d asked her … and the answer she hadn’t given.

  “What’s happening?” Wylder asked one of the students holding a sign that said, “Cancel all or none!” in big red letters.

  “We’re protesting the board’s decision to cancel the Winter Review,” the girl said. Wylder was pretty sure she was a theater student. “It’s not fair to cancel the Review when sports go on as planned.”

  “That’s what I said, but Ms. Jones didn’t seem to think that was a good enough reason.”

  “You got a meeting with the headmistress?” The girl turned her full attention on Wylder.

  “Not a meeting, per se. I ambushed her in the hall outside of her conference room.”

  “What did she say?” A circle of students moved in on Wylder.

  “Something about collecting phones at sporting events, but the athletes are used to the scrutiny of the public eye. She says they canceled the Review to protect us, and I get that, but there has to be a better solution.”

  “Yeah.” Heads bobbed around her.

  “What do you think we should do to get our message across?” another music student asked.

  “Er … Uh, I’m not sure.” Wylder took a step back. They were looking at her funny. Like they expected her to lead them.

  “If you have the headmistress’s ear, you should take this to her.” The theater girl pulled a clipboard from her bag. “It isn’t much, but we have signatures from every music and theater student we could find, protesting the cancelation and asking for better security measures as a compromise.”

  “I’ll sign that.” Logan reached for the clipboard.

  “Me too.” Wylder nodded, glancing over Logan’s shoulder. “But this won’t be enough to convince her. Not just a petition alone.” Wylder whipped off her gloves so she could sign after Logan.

  “We’re meeting this afternoon in the main theater hall to talk about our options. We’d love it if you’d join us.”

  “She’ll be there.” Logan draped his arm around Wylder.

  “What time is the meeting?” Wylder asked.

  “Two o’clock.” The girl lifted her sign and went back to shouting about the injustice of it all. Wylder wasn’t sure who would hear them on a Saturday morning. She was pretty sure
the admin building was empty, and Ms. Jones was probably at her home on the opposite side of the lake. But at least they were trying.

  Wylder’s stomach gave an angry snarl.

  “Breakfast first, then we protest?” Logan steered her toward the dining hall.

  “Yes. Breakfast is top of the list. I’m starving.” She took his hand in hers, still not thinking about that question he’d asked her this morning. She’d think about it soon, when those zoomie feelings settled down some.

  “Coffee is important.” Wylder stomped her feet on the mat in front of the dorm building, ridding her boots of snow. “Almost as important as food.”

  Logan held the door open and turned her toward the line of students poking out the open dining hall door waiting for breakfast.

  “There’s a line?” she whined.

  “There usually is this early. Relax, it will go fast.”

  “I’ve never waited in line for food here. Ever.”

  “That’s because you’re always late. Always.”

  “What’s that smell?” She lifted her nose toward the kitchen.

  Logan turned her toward a black easel with white letters.

  “Oh, there’s a menu?”

  “How long have you been going to this school?” Logan chuckled.

  “Crepes with hollandaise sauce. That’s what I’m getting.” Wylder bounced on her toes, trying to see the head of the line. “Hope they don’t run out.”

  “They won’t.”

  Logan was right, the line moved quickly, and Wylder headed straight for the crepe kiosk where the school chef made the delicate crepes herself. “Oh, that looks yummy. Can I get double crepes and extra hollandaise?”

  “It’s a little rich, you might want to start with one and come back if you’re still hungry.”

  “Trust me, she’s a professional. She could handle a triple stack if you gave it to her.” Logan came up behind her with a tray of avocado toast and fruit.

  “All right, don’t blame me if you get a stomachache.” The chef handed her a plate.

  “Never happens.” Wylder scooped up some hollandaise sauce with her finger and popped it into her mouth as they went to get coffee. “I feel bad for your breakfast.” Wylder grabbed a large coffee cup and pumped the hazelnut blend into her cup. “It’s so boring.”