Kiss the Stars

by Jackson, A. L.

  Or maybe she’d just sensed me the same way I sensed her. Had gotten swept up by a rogue wave that could bring nothing but destruction. That fucked-up connection I didn’t want to feel stretched thin between us.

  Simmering and shivering.

  Crackling in the air.

  Awareness pulled. A tug-of-war that demanded to be made known.

  Silence descended, and that lush mouth dropped open at the same time as those sable eyes widened in shock when they landed on me.

  Lust struck me.

  A goddamn sledgehammer to the senses.

  Clinging to the railing for support, she took me in like she was hallucinating.

  If only that were the case.

  I wanted to kick my own ass.

  Irritation blazed through my being. One-hundred percent of it was directed at myself.

  Of course, this girl was Lyrik’s sister. I mean, how the fuck hadn’t I put two and two together? The woman who’d come stumbling into that room like an apparition, demanding to know what I was doing hiding away from the party, thousands of miles away from where I belonged, but acting like she had the right to be there? Like that was her sanctuary and I’d been the one to invade it?

  And shit, Lyrik and this girl could be twins.

  But I guessed I’d chalked her up to being nothin’ but a figment. Too good to be true. To perfect to be real.

  Eliciting things inside me that should be impossible. Something I would never allow myself to feel.

  And there she stood, gaping at me from twenty feet away.

  She was wearing super tight skinny jeans and a thin sweatshirt that draped off one slender shoulder.

  Delicious flesh that I wanted to devour.

  Black hair a river of waves tumbling around her.

  A slip of her stomach exposed.

  My mouth watered, and my guts fisted in want.

  Yeah, that compulsion had to die. Not a fucking chance would I touch her. Not even when my body was getting all kinds of wayward ideas that this was my second-chance, the guilt it evoked threatening to slam me up against a wall.

  Knew this was a mistake.

  Knew it.

  And there I was, anyway.

  A sucker just asking for it.

  She swallowed hard, her delicate throat bobbing, the girl completely flustered. A shot of redness pinked up her cheeks, and her eyes were darting everywhere but on me. Finally, she forced a smile. “Oh, goodness . . . I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you already had company, Lyrik.”

  She glanced at me, almost as wary as her . . . daughter.

  I scraped a hand over my face like it might break me from the stupor, too.

  Penny had to be her daughter.

  If Lyrik could be her twin, the young girl was nothing but her mini-me. And the tiny boy in her arms? He was a mix of the two, caramel eyes, lighter hair, but his nose the same as his sister’s and their mom’s.

  She was a mom.

  Sweet and shy and bold and every-fucking-thing my fingers were itching to reach out and trace.

  Touch.

  Take and taste.

  And I was so completely fucked.

  So fucked as Lyrik looked between us, something like suspicion darkening his expression. “Leif . . . this is my baby sister, Mia. Penny and Greyson’s mom. Three of them are staying here this summer.”

  I gulped around the jagged rock that was suddenly wedged at the base of my throat.

  Painful and cutting off airflow.

  If I listened hard enough, I could hear Karma kicked back in the lounger at the back of the room, laughing her ass off while she sipped at a frozen cocktail.

  “Nice to meet you, Mia.” Came out harder than it should.

  Irritation buzzed through my being. The contract I’d signed with Sunder suddenly felt like a death sentence. Blood written on the motherfucking line.

  Woman a temptation I didn’t know how to bear.

  If it was possible, her smile was even more faked than mine, her voice trembling when she said, “Nice to meet you, too, Leif.”

  Problem was, that voice came at me like a song. Something that had been haunting me for the last week.

  Calm and peace.

  But peace was not meant for me.

  “Waif!” The little boy in her arms pointed at me with a grin that could singlehandedly decimate an ironhanded regime.

  Awesome.

  “Hey, there,” I muttered, uneasiness riding free, and his mom was planting a kiss to the top of his head and then running her hand over the same spot like she was trying to get him to settle down, but I was pretty sure she wasn’t doing anything but trying to settle her racing heart that I could feel pounding through the room.

  Or maybe it was just mine stampeding out of control.

  Wayward and hard.

  Riding with a warning.

  I glanced back at Lyrik. His displeased expression had kicked into a storm. He set his daughter to her feet. “We should get you settled.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Needed to get the hell out of this room before I suffocated.

  I went for indifferent when I threw up a hand, though the words were harsh and low, “It was very nice to meet you all.”

  Lyrik punched the code into the door to open it, and I followed him out. It ran me smack into the heat, a wall of oppressive humidity instantly coating my skin in a slick of sweat.

  Or maybe it was visceral.

  This reaction that made me feel like I was gonna come right out of my skin. I had no fuckin’ clue how I was supposed to spend the summer living on the same property as that woman.

  Come to find out, Eden was actually hell.

  Now that was what was called cruel and unjust.

  But I guessed if the punishment fit.

  In front of me, Lyrik stalked along the sidewalk that edged the left side of the pool.

  The thick, stagnant air was full of the sound of the fountains gurgling and splashing into the carved stone reservoirs, birds chirping and flitting through the trees.

  It felt like a complete contradiction to the drone of the city encircling the estate. Sirens and engines and the blare of horns.

  Lyrik climbed the two steps to the guest-house porch and swung open the door. “Here we go. Code is same as the house.”

  “Got it.”

  I angled inside, passing him and pulling my suitcase behind me. My attention bounced around, not that I really cared what my accommodations were going to be like. They could have put me up at a run-down hotel and I wouldn’t have given two fucks.

  But this?

  It was warm. Comfortable. The living room in the front had every luxury you could ask for. Fluffy pillows adorned the plush couch, two sitting chairs set up on either side that faced the huge TV that hung on the wall. To the far side on the right was a high-topped bar that overlooked a small kitchen on the other side. I could only assume the short hall to the left of it led to a bedroom.

  But what caught my attention was the drum-set and assortment of guitars and musical instruments that were set up in a cove on the left side of the living room.

  “Figured you might want to play in your downtime,” Lyrik said like it was no big deal.

  “Probably going to need to practice a few new songs I don’t know.” I attempted to crack a joke, to lighten whatever this bullshit was I could feel clawing my skin, a million fire ants marching to a grim drumbeat across raw, bleeding flesh.

  He just shrugged. “Don’t have any worries that you won’t catch on just fine.”

  There was an edge to him. A disquiet that I could feel radiating from his being.

  Or maybe I was just projecting.

  On a huff, he dragged his tattooed fingers through his hair. “Want you to know we are all grateful that you dropped everything to come help us out. Know Sunder has been playing together for a long time, but we don’t want you to feel like you’re just backup or a stand-in. This is you on this album. These songs will belong to you every bit as much as th
ey belong to us. As long as you’re playing with Sunder, you’re a part of Sunder.”

  I gave a tight nod. “I appreciate that. And you know I’ll give it my everything.”

  “Which is why you’re the only one fit to stand here.”

  He edged back, glanced around before he said, “I’ll let you get settled.” A gleam lit in his dark eyes. “My wife is demanding that you join us for dinner tonight. She wants to make sure you feel welcome. We eat at seven.”

  I lifted a hand to reject the offer.

  Because no.

  Just fucking no.

  He put up two. “Don’t even try to argue, man. Know you don’t know my wife, but take it from me—she invites you to dinner? You better accept the invitation.”

  I bit down on my tongue to stop the curse from dropping free.

  “Great. No problem. I’ll be there.”

  “Good. Just holler if you need anything.”

  “Will do.”

  Guessed I really was projecting.

  He turned and stepped up to the door, only to hesitate when he pulled it open. His back was to me, the guy holding onto the doorknob, clearly warring with reservation.

  He looked at me from over his shoulder. “And what we talked about the other night? About the fact my family is my main priority? Their happiness and their safety my one concern?”

  This time, my nod was tighter, so tight it was lucky my neck didn’t snap in two.

  “You need to know that applies to my sister. She’s been to hell and back, and she’s here to heal. So I can keep her safe. Last thing she needs is to be toyed with. If you catch my meaning?” His head cocked to the side. There was no mistaking the warning.

  Stay the fuck away from my sister.

  Got it because that shit was not a problem.

  Still, my goddamn body physically jolted with the confirmation.

  Knew it, that night. The girl had been running scared. Looking for a way to get lost. Swept away.

  Now, I felt desperate to know the depths of it.

  What the fuck he was actually implying.

  Anger threatened to lay siege to my logic.

  To raze my focus to the ground. I knew better. I didn’t have the time or the space or the goodness to care or to make it my problem.

  I shoved it down in the pits of my corrupt spirit where it belonged.

  It was no concern of mine.

  Girl was fucking hot. My dick noticed. That was it. Nothing more.

  Teeth grinding, I forced a smile. “No need to mention it twice. I got you. Wouldn’t go there, anyway.”

  He studied me for a beat. No doubt, he hadn’t missed whatever the hell that interaction was that had gone down between us in his family room. Whatever power had stopped both Mia and me in our tracks. Stole our breaths while something profound pounded through the atmosphere.

  He was no fool.

  But neither was I.

  His nod was clipped. “Figured not.”

  I feigned an unaffected smile.

  “See you at seven,” he said, stepping out the door.

  I itched, not sure how I was going to make it through this shit show. This mockery that was my life.

  Motherfucking Karma.

  She’d moved into my room and taken a seat at the bar, holding her glass in the air in a silent cheer.

  She truly was a bitch.

  “I’ll be there.”

  Seven

  Mia

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  I shook out my hands where I paced the guest suite on the far wing of the house where I was staying with my children.

  There was a living room in the middle with two bedrooms on either side. The entire place so warm and welcoming and perfect except for who was going to be shacking up in the house across the yard.

  I shook my head, unable to believe my luck.

  Life really did love to play cruel, sick jokes, didn’t it?

  I mean . . . seriously.

  I’d all but begged that man to sleep with me, thinking it would be a single night. A single encounter. A single experience.

  Desperate for a reprieve.

  A balm for the pain.

  But I should have known if I dipped my toes into the fire, I was gonna get burned.

  Scorched.

  And boy, oh boy, was I on fire.

  I glanced at the mirror that hung over the dressing table, my cheeks beet red and my skin flushed a matching embarrassing color.

  I touched the heated spot right over my heart.

  Leif.

  His name was Leif. Leif, the temporary drummer for my brother’s band. Leif, the guy who was going to be staying in the guest house for the whole damned summer.

  Leif, the man who had clearly not been thrilled to see me.

  The way disgust and hatred had twisted his jaw in a fierce grimace was seared into my mind.

  Massive hands curled into fists that he looked half a second from throwing through a wall.

  I’d wanted to melt into a puddle on the floor.

  Partly because of the potency of the need that instantly lit, a steady burn that didn’t come close to being slow.

  The other half? It’d wanted to disappear. Wilt into nothing. Hide the same way as I’d been doing that night.

  But I guessed the problem with that was I kept running into him.

  This terrifyingly beautiful man who left no question that he was bad, bad, bad.

  Bad for my health and my heart and my sanity.

  I jumped ten feet in the air when someone knocked on the door out in the hall.

  God.

  I really was going to lose it.

  Flustered, I smoothed out my hair like it might settle the disorder that rattled through my nerves and rushed through the bedroom to the door in the living area.

  I jerked it open.

  Tamar was standing on the other side, smirking.

  My eyes narrowed. “Why do you look like the cat who ate the canary?”

  A whole damned nest of ’em.

  Probably baby ones, too.

  Her smirk only widened as she waltzed in, her hips swaying side-to-side in her seductive way. I was pretty sure if I attempted it, I’d trip and faceplant into the ground. “I heard our guest arrived.”

  I swallowed down the turbulence and forced the words to come out as casual as could be. “Oh yeah. I guess it was about a half an hour ago.”

  Thirty-two minutes and seventeen seconds, to be precise.

  But who was counting?

  She moved into the bedroom where I was staying and flopped onto my bed, releasing a fluttery sigh.

  I followed her, wondering what she was up to and knowing it couldn’t be good.

  She rolled over onto her side. Blue eyes ridged in perfectly done eyeliner twinkled in mischief. “So . . .” she drew out, scandal injected into the word.

  My shoulders heaved in feigned confusion. “So what?”

  She got to her knees, way too eager. “So, tell me about him.”

  “Um . . . his name is Leif and he’s staying in the guest house and he’s a drummer?” I formed it like a question, like that was all there was to him, nothing more.

  Tamar huffed in disbelief, waving a dismissive hand in the air. “Yes, I know his name. Tell me about this whole, ‘he stole your breath the second you saw him’, thing.”

  I had to struggle to keep my mouth from dropping open in shock, almost as hard as I had to struggle to make the denial form on my tongue.

  The lie.

  Because the truth of the matter was he’d ripped the air right out of my lungs. Twice now. I was still finding it difficult to breathe.

  “And who in the world told you that?” I asked, forcing the deepest, most innocent frown.

  The last thing I needed was her hounding me on this.

  Because that night? It was a mistake, and nothing had even happened.

  Just five minutes of a man branding his being on me.

  The slash of a tattoo in the passing of a hand
.

  Impossible but true.

  “Um . . . my husband . . . aka your overprotective brother. He came into our room ranting and raving about how he wasn’t going to let some drummer who was climbing for the stars to steal and then break his sister’s heart.” She giggled a wry sound. “He told me straight up, ‘One look, and the asshole stole her breath. Not going to let him steal anything else’.”

  I almost rolled my eyes.

  Tamar did it for me. “I think he thinks he’s protecting your virtue. Poor boy acts like you’re twelve and don’t have two children.”

  “He’s just looking out for me.” Why I was sticking up for him in this case, I didn’t really know. But him keeping me away from that man sounded like a pretty fine idea.

  Distance.

  It was bad enough I had to keep myself from going to the windows and peering out, hoping to catch a glimpse.

  A chuckle fell from her sultry lips. “Yeah, and he forgets where we started. The fortresses we’d both had built up around ourselves. We didn’t exactly have the best start. And look where we are now.”

  I let a grin pull at my mouth as I moved to the dressing table, taking a brush to run through my hair to give my shaking hands something to do. I looked at her through the mirror. “I’m pretty sure he remembers exactly how you two started.”

  She laughed. “I’m sure that is totally the problem. His little sister wouldn’t dare do something so scandalous,” she drawled.

  Tossing the brush down, I swiveled around. “You’re right. I wouldn’t.”

  Couldn’t.

  Not after that feeling had chased me down for the last week.

  Intrigue.

  Fascination.

  This sensation that I was missing something when I didn’t have it in the first place.

  There was no way my mangled heart could take it.

  Not when I was looking for a way to fill up a hole when he would only dig it deeper.

  Not when I had to spend the entire summer with him living on the other side of the pool.

  Not when my mind was entertaining thoughts of more, more, more.

  All those what if’s from that morning had hit me from out of nowhere the second I’d seen him standing there, every bit as shocked at seeing me as I was him.

  I got the feeling he’d gladly touch me. But there was no chance that bad boy would keep me. And even letting the thought of keeping slip into my mind was enough reason to pretend like he didn’t exist.