Chapter 1
Bree
I stand in the driveway of my brother’s house and frown.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
He’s having a party. Well, they’re having a party.
Why didn’t I expect it? A pre-tour party and a chance to celebrate the release of their second album, Wicked Is As Wycked Does. This is for their friends and their hometown fans. Different, I guess, from tour parties. Especially this tour, when they’ll be opening for Edge of Return, just about the biggest rock band in the world right now.
They didn’t invite me.
It hurts. I get it—sort of—but that doesn’t make me feel any better. Knox doesn’t want me hanging out with their musician friends. Groupies and sluts, he calls them, but maybe that’s just for my benefit. To get his way and keep me from getting to know people he things might be a bad influence.
Hysterical laughter bubbles up in my chest. I’m living with Gabe fucking Richmond, for Christ’s sake! So maybe it’s more complicated than that, but I don’t give a shit right now. I hate my life—and I really hate witnessing the one-night stand hook-up thing that’s part of the whole rock star lifestyle.
It’s become part of the Wycked Obsession lifestyle, and Ajia’s living it every goddamn day.
Well, fuck that. Fuck rock stars and my stepfather and my piece of shit life. I’m crashing.
I stalk up the driveway and through the front door before I can even think about it. Noise overpowers me at once. Voices and the pounding rhythm of music. Not Wycked Obsession’s music but…Highway to Hell by AC/DC.
Great. They’re into 80s metal tonight.
The crowd moves like it’s alive, and I slip into the kitchen to stash my purse in one of the cupboards. Why not? They never keep any food there, anyway.
It’s hotter than hell in the house, and I notice the open sliding glass door. May in Austin—of course it’s freaking hot! Did they remember to turn off the AC with the door open?
I’m stalling, and I know it. Maybe I was brave a few minutes ago, but it’s all starting to fade, now that I’m faced with the reality of finding Knox. I’m pretty sure he won’t make me leave. And if he tries? Well, I don’t want to pull the Gabe card in front of everybody, but I’ll do it if I have to.
“Hey, you need a beer?” Some guy shoves a Shiner Bock in my hand, and I smile a thanks. Deliberately, I wander away before he can say anything else.
A corner of the living room’s a safe place to watch the action while I search for Knox. He’s a couple of inches over six feet tall, so I should be able to find him easily enough. As always, a passing jealous thought reminds me that he has the height. Knox takes after Dad and I, as Gabe so disgustingly reminded me, look just like Mom. All 5’4” of me.
My brother is nowhere to be seen, but I’m not looking as hard as I should. Not for him, anyway. Ajia’s the one I really want to find.
Ajia Stone. Lead singer of Wycked Obsession. The hotter-than-hell guy with the throaty, husky voice that generates love, lust, and orgasms, according to fan gossip. He’s one of my brother’s best friends. One of my friends.
And the man I can’t seem to get over.
I was 14 when I first met Ajia. He and Knox were putting Wycked Obsession together, and I was the tag-along. Ajia was 19, out of my reach purely because of our age difference, but I crushed on him, anyway.
Well, I’m 19 now, almost 20, he’s 24—and just as much out of my reach. He’s a rising rock star with access to any girl he wants. Worse, my little schoolgirl crush has become so much more. I never wanted any other guy, and so I’m a 19-year-old virgin who’s Ajia’s friend. Like the band mascot.
Worse, he calls me kitten, like I’m some kind of pet.
There’s a reason for it, not that I like remembering it. I was babysitting a friend’s kitten the day I met him. An unexpected birthday present for my friend Heather, I’d drawn kitten-sitting duty when her family had gone on a planned vacation to Disney World. Knox and I had never had a pet, and I was a little obsessive about making sure that Whiskers went home as healthy and happy as when she came to me. Somehow, that earned me the nickname kitten, and I’ve been stuck with it ever since.
Ajia might be missing, but I spot Noah, the band’s drummer. He’s huge, like 6’4” or 6’5”, with an upper body honed by years of playing the drums. Except for his darker hair, he could give Chris Hemsworth’s Thor a run for his money. He even has the long hair and firm jaw that hints at superhero status. I teased him about it so much, he eventually had Thor’s hammer tattooed on his bicep. He’s kind of become known for it, and now he takes off his shirt about halfway through every show and throws it to the crowd.
I grin in spite of my party-crashing status. I love Noah like a brother, but I’m a realist, as well. He’s also kind of a wild man, and right now he has a girl under each arm. Nope. Not talking to him at the moment.
Zayne and Rye aren’t too far away, I notice as I sip my beer. They’re standing pretty close together, talking to a group of girls. They’re a really stunning combination—tatted up, long-haired music gods. Rye plays keyboards, and his pitch-black hair and matching eyes attract more attention than he ever seems comfortable with. Zayne’s the bassist, with chocolatey brown hair and striking hazel eyes. He seems to like being noticed just fine.
They’re like a couple more brothers to me, but no way am I approaching them with a whole group of fans around them. Knox’s sister or not, girls don’t like me being around their idols. It’s jealousy, pure and simple, and it’s also so goddamn stupid! I’m the band mascot, after all.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
The voice comes from the right, close to my ear, and I squeak as I turn.
“Knox. You scared me, you fucker.” I have to give as good as I get with these guys.
“Who told you about the party?”
“Nobody.”
“Was it Rye?” He narrows his eyes, so dark suddenly they’re more gray than blue.
“No! I kind of ended up here by mistake.”
“Mistake?” Knox shoves a wave of dark hair away from his face and gives me that piercing look that sees way too much.
“Not really mistake,” I correct as I drink my beer. Damn, but I always get nervous when my brother starts his protective thing. It’s so freaking unnecessary. Most of the time.
“I…meant to come here,” I add, “but I didn’t know about the party.”
“So you decided to stay.”
“Yes.”
The song changes to Guns N’ Roses, Welcome to the Jungle, one of Knox’s favorites. Maybe it’ll put him in a better mood. He lets out a sigh to go along with the frown.
Is he weakening?
“You know I don’t like you around this kind of shit.” He jerks his head toward the rest of the room.
“What, watching you and the guys hook up with as many girls as you can convince to sleep with you?”
His gaze sharpens. “Can’t say there’s much sleeping that goes on.”
“Okay.” I pissed him off. Fine. He’s pissing me off, too. “Then watching y’all hook up with as many girls as you can fuck.”
He sucks in a tight hiss. “Goddamn it, Bree!”
I stare at him with what’s supposed to be wide-eyed innocence. “You think I don’t know how this works? I’m not a kid anymore.”
“So?”
“Wycked Obsession is hotter than a Texas summer,” I snap, like I’m not proud as hell of the guys. “Wicked Is As Wycked Does is climbing the charts, they play Tonight on the radio every freaking hour, and you’re leaving for three months to tour with Edge of Return. You’re honest-to-God rock stars now, and you’re taking advantage of the—perks.”
“The perks.” Finally, Knox grins. “Wonder what the fans would say if they heard you say that.”
I shrug. “They wouldn’t care. All they want is to fuck one of you.”
His grin dies a sudden, ugly death. “Stop saying shit like that.”
“You shouldn’t have taught me the words, then.”
“Hey, baby.” A hand with long, pointy fingernails painted red slides around my brother’s chest. The rest of the girl follows, her skirt so short it barely covers her ass and top so low it hardly hides her nipples. “You said you were coming right back.”
“I need a couple of minutes.” Knox doesn’t even look at her.
“Who’s this?” she demands, her eyes narrow and angry. Her voice is sharp enough to cut steel.
“My sister.” Knox drops his gaze to hers. I can’t see his expression, but I know what it means when he says, “Maybe I’ll catch up with you later.”
So does she. “Knox…baby.”
“Later.”
She glares at me and slinks away. Later means never when my brother says it like that. She fucked up, and she knows it.
“Sorry.” I don’t sound it.
“You gonna tell me why you’re here?”
I sigh. Knox has a one-track mind about some things, and I learned long ago that I’m one of them.
“Later. I’ll tell you later when all this—” I wave one hand “—isn’t going on.”
“So you’re just going to hang out here?”
I take a drink of my beer—a long one this time—and give him a look that says, Listen to me! For once in your life, just listen. “Look, Knox. You can kick me out. I’ll sit outside on the curb. Sleep in the bushes. Whatever. You’re stuck with me tonight, and we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
“Bree—”
“Baby girl!”
That’s my other nickname. All the guys call me that, even though I’m not that much younger than they are. Ajia’s the oldest in years, but they all have worlds of experience over me, so I guess the name fits. It doesn’t matter. I’ve never been able to convince them to stop using it.
“Noah.”
I grin at the drummer. His girls trail behind him, looking less pissed than Knox’s groupie. Maybe they don’t care so much since they’re already looking like a threesome.
“I wondered if you’d show up.” He grins back.
“She wasn’t invited,” Knox puts in.
“Asshole,” I say just as Noah offers his own opinion.
“Don’t be a fucker, man. You know Bree-baby is always welcome.”
“Thanks, Noah.” I give him a big hug and slide a shitty smile in my brother’s direction.
“Uh, the…other guys know you’re here?” asks Noah.
I shake my head. “No. Don’t think so. I saw Zayne and Rye. Where’s Ajia?” I ask as casually as I can.
Noah shrugs, but he doesn’t make eye contact with me. I tell myself it isn’t because he suspects how I feel about Ajia, but a part of me is afraid he guessed. I’ve been wondering that for a while now.
“Haven’t seen him lately,” he finally says.
Knox stares at me, and I know what he’s thinking. The same thing I’m thinking. If Ajia isn’t around, then he’s off somewhere with…someone. Some chick. A slut, I insist to myself, whether it’s true or even fair. All I can think of is him kissing another girl, touching her, fucking her.
My breath catches and the bottom drops out of my stomach.
“Look, you guys go do…whatever.” I force the words out, but they come easier as I speak. “It’s your party. Just ignore me. I’ll mingle, and if I get bored, I’ll go to the music room. You won’t even know I’m here.”
The music room is actually the garage, but the guys put some soundproofing in there, keep most of their instruments there, added some furniture and a window AC unit. It’s gotta be cooler in there, and I won’t have to worry about turning around to find Ajia sucking face with some slut.
“You sure about that, baby girl?”
I smile at Noah for trying to makeup for Knox’s shitty attitude. He’s protective, too, but in a different way. If nobody gets hurt, if it’s legal—or close enough—and everybody involved is an adult, Noah’s all for it. My being here pretty much fits all his criteria.
“Go on.” I step from in between the guys. “I’m going to get another beer. Don’t let me cramp your style.” And then I just walk away.
For the next couple of hours, I work my way through the crowd. I talk to a few of the guys’ friends, some I know from school and others from the club circuit back when Wycked Obsession played every damn gig they could get. Most of the girls ignore me, but I know a few of them. I even get a chance to talk to Zayne and Rye…and then finally I see Ajia.
He stands across the room from me—with someone. An octopus, I think with a look that should disintegrate her on the spot. She has her hands all over him. I’m sure as hell not going up to him now, but I’m torn. I don’t want him to see me like this, all brokenhearted and aching for him, but another part of me wants him to notice me. He doesn’t.
He’s totally preoccupied with her.
Asshole. I’m pissed off and sick, even knowing I have no right to be. Don’t forget what you’ve always known, I remind myself. Ajia’s flat-ass fucking hot, almost pretty in a handsome sort of way. His features are fine and perfect. His hair is wavy, like Knox’s, and they both wear it long, past their shoulders. Ajia’s is a golden blond color, his eyes a caramel brown. The combination is unexpected and alluring.
He’s tall, maybe 6’2”, and muscular. He doesn’t have Noah’s upper body, but Ajia works out and looks pretty damned impressive. He’s also tattooed, sleeves on his arms, part of his chest, and some stuff on his back. Knox told me they’d all added the new album title somewhere on their bodies, but I haven’t seen any of the finished work yet.
I have to force myself to look away. No way can I talk to him now. Not with Ursula hanging off him. A smile makes me feel only slightly better, but I like comparing the fangirl to the villain from The Little Mermaid. Maybe it’s childish, but I don’t care.
It’s a distraction, but I force myself to listen to Mötley Crüe’s Kickstart My Heart, Poison’s Every Rose Has Its Thorn, Whitesnake’s Here I Go Again, and Warrant’s Heaven. I’ve heard them all—dozens of times over the years—along with Classic Rock, Blues, 90s Grunge, Alt. Rock, and Indie Rock. In fact, I can’t hear any goddamn song at all without associating the music with Knox, Ajia, and Wycked Obsession.
Hell, I’ve spent the last two years at the Butler School of Music, going for a degree in Composition because of the band. How fucked up is that?
By the time one o’clock rolls around, I’m done. My emotions are raw, and I never wanted to be a part of the whole party scene in the first place. It only got worse after seeing Ajia like that. Knox made me feel like shit, too, and no matter how hard I try to forget, the thing with Gabe still preys on my mind. I need to get away, sack out in the music room and just get some sleep so I can talk to Knox tomorrow.
The music room is cooler and quieter. I turn off the lights and stretch out on the ratty old couch the guys dumped there. I wish I’d brought a toothbrush or looked for an extra one here, but no way am I fighting that crowd again. I’ll have to make do until morning.
No, it isn’t a rat, I decide. Not the four-legged kind, anyway. The noises aren’t right for that. It’s people, and they’re—
“What the ever-loving fuck?”
The words are out before I can stop them. Holy hell! The last thing I want is to be an audience for some couple getting it on.
The overhead light snaps on, and I get my first glimpse of the spectacle. A girl’s on her knees with some guy’s dick in her mouth. She’s sucking, moving her head back and forth and making soft, greedy noises low in her throat. She pulls back, blinking and giving me an unobstructed view of a long, thick, hard cock that looks way more impressive than anything I’ve ever imagined.
“Ajia?” she snaps, stroking the length of his cock once, twice, but it’s too late. My gaze jerks upward and I stare into his face. His caramel eyes look odd, sharp and piercing, as always, and yet heavy with desire. His gaze catches mine and he blinks.
I’m up off the couch in an instant, suddenly on fire and not in a good way. “Oh, Jesus.”
They stand between me and the door, but I can’t stay there. I try to keep from looking down again, but I can’t help it. Ajia’s dick is still hard, and long, well-manicured fingers still stroke him.
“Jesus.” I say it again, and somehow I can finally move.
“Bree,” he says in a hoarse voice as I brush past him on my way to the door. I cut it too close, and my shoulder rubs against his.
“Jesus.” I’m begging by this time, and then finally—somehow—I’m on the other side of the door.
“What the ever-loving fuck?” I whisper to myself again.
“Baby girl?” Noah suddenly stands in front of me.
“Hey.” I want to smile, but I can’t.
“What’s wrong?”
I shake my head. I just interrupted Ajia getting sucked off by some chick and it’s breaking my freaking heart. I can’t say it.
“I just need a couple of minutes.” I clear my throat. “It hasn’t been the greatest night.” That is an understatement—but why did my voice have to sound so goddamn weak?
“You—”
Noah breaks off when the door behind me opens. Shit. I should have kept moving. Why didn’t I? I really don’t want to do this now.
“Bree?” Ajia’s voice is soft.
I don’t look back; I don’t have to. It’s all on Noah’s face. The recognition. The understanding. The…sorrow? Yeah. He knows how I feel. How I really feel about Ajia.
Noah hauls me against his chest and gives me a hug. It’s comforting, and I hug him back.
“Go to my room,” he says against my hair. “Sleep in my bed tonight. I’ll take the couch.”
I want to laugh, but it won’t come. Instead, I pull back from him. “That’s sweet, but you know you don’t fit on the couch.”
His eyes crinkle with a smile, and he winks at me. “You inviting me to spend the night with you, baby girl?”
“You wish.” Somehow, I manage a smile.
He nods. “Okay. Go on, then.” He gives me a little push, like I’m a kid or something.
Oh, that’s right. The band mascot. Like their pet. Their baby girl.
A sad place twists inside me, but it isn’t Noah’s fault. It’s nobody’s fault but my own, longing for shit that can never be mine. Like some sort of freaking masochist.
I reach out for a quick squeeze of his hand. “Thanks, Noah.”
“Don’t mention it.”
I walk off without ever looking at Ajia, and then I hear a grunt from behind me. “What the fuck, Ajia?” Noah’s voice sounds sharp, like a whip. “Just once, couldn’t you learn to keep your dick in your pants?”