Kiss the Stars

by Jackson, A. L.

Easily.

  Fluently.

  Fluidly.

  Our bodies in sync.

  I guessed we’d always been.

  Like we recognized the other.

  He slowed for the four-way stop, and I felt the hitch in his movements, as if he were seeing the scene play out all over again, too.

  The horror.

  The dread.

  The what if.

  I squeezed him tighter and tucked my chin over his shoulder. Let my gratefulness wash over him.

  Seep and soak and simmer.

  I was so thankful that he’d been there when we’d needed him most.

  Power vibrated from the bike as he carefully maneuvered the Savannah streets. The venue wasn’t that far from the house, and ten minutes later, we were pulling into the back lot behind a century-old building.

  The structure was built of coarse, aged bricks, worn from the years the building had been used as a cotton warehouse, covered in soot and dust and old smoke damage from a fire in the 20s.

  It was massive, four stories of exposed levels and lofts, years ago transformed into a trendy theatre and club.

  I’d been here several times to watch Sunder play. It was one of those intimate venues where you could get up close to the performers.

  Reach out and touch the stars.

  Right there, lost in the vibe and passion and sensuality of your favorite musicians.

  It wasn’t all that hard to figure out who was going to be mine.

  Leif rolled to a stop beside a black SUV. He reached down to grip me by the outside of the thigh. Squeezed in some sort of unheard reassurance. Or maybe it was a plea. As if he were asking me for understanding. Maybe support.

  My attention drifted to the left to see a group of people standing around at the back door.

  All eyes tuned in on us.

  There was a woman who was probably about my age standing at the front of the group. Incredibly beautiful in a soft, innocent sort of way. Wearing a sundress and wedge heels and disbelief on her face, blonde waves tumbling over her shoulders.

  A man was to her right, hands stuffed in his pockets, shaggy, brown hair curling around his face.

  Tattoos littered his arms and outright confidence radiated from his body.

  No doubt, that boy was too handsome for his own good.

  But it was the burly bear of a man who was ambling toward us with a huge grin on his face that had a small smile pulling to the corner of my mouth.

  Leif seemed reluctant to shut off the engine.

  The second he did, a booming voice hit our ears.

  “Holy shit, the Banger is here. I was wondering if I was goin’ to have to come track you down and drag your scrawny ass over here.”

  Leif chuckled a laugh, shook his head with amusement. “That’s Head Banger, to you,” he shouted back while he offered me a hand to help me off.

  More of that lightness filtered through the coming evening.

  I wanted to slip into it.

  Slip into the feel and the sound.

  The guy walking toward us let his expression morph into counterfeit alarm. “It’s worse than I thought. He let the heavy metal get to him. Knew letting him get with that band was gonna result in disaster. What did I tell you? Time to kick your city ass back into country gear, brother. We have a show to play. Place is gonna be packed. One day warnin’ and tickets are sold out. Hells yeah. Told you this was our year. Let the awesomeness ensue. That is if you can keep up.”

  I tried to follow his crazy-train of thoughts as I undid the strap of the helmet, not even sure who he was talking to except for the fact he never took his attention from Leif. I couldn’t peel my eyes away, watching between the two of them as Leif climbed off his bike, amusement gliding into the atmosphere.

  This.

  This was what we’d needed after everything we’d been through.

  “Would you leave him alone, Rhys? We haven’t seen him in weeks and you’re already tryin’ to scare him off.” This from the blonde who was making her way in our direction.

  In feigned offense, he tossed her a glare. “Scare him off? This asshole missed the shit out of me.” He whirled back to face Leif, his arms stretched out to the sides. “Didn’t you, Banger?”

  Leif held two fingers up. Just a pinch.

  “Piss off, asshole, and tell me you love me. Know you want a kiss. Then after that, get to tellin’ me who the hell this gorgeous girl is right here. You lucky bastard.” He looked at me with his shit-eating grin. “You went and found yourself a rock ‘n’ roll princess.”

  Embarrassment blazed, and I bit down on my lip, glancing at my attire.

  Yep.

  Overboard.

  I’d totally, totally gone overboard.

  Leif stepped in front of me. “Watch yourself, man.”

  The guy’s grin only grew. “Oh, so that’s how it is?”

  He basically tossed Leif out of the way and came barreling for me, wrapping me up in his mammoth arms, hugging me hard and flinging me around.

  I screeched, caught off guard, but couldn’t help but laugh as he continued bouncing me around.

  “Rhys, put her down. You’re going to suffocate the poor girl, and I haven’t even gotten to meet her,” the blonde said, her voice nothing but an amused reprimand.

  “But I like her,” he whined, and then he was grinning more, his voice lowered at my ear so only I could hear when he set me onto my feet. “Thank fuck you’re here.”

  Confusion wound, and I looked at him, not sure what he was implying, wanting to ask him what he meant.

  He glanced at Leif.

  Emotion punched me in the chest.

  And I knew it. I knew it to my soul.

  Leif needed me, too.

  Maybe as much as I’d grown to need him.

  Leif sighed, as if he’d expected all of this, and he was shocking me again when he wound his arm around my waist and tucked me to his side.

  Statement made.

  Claiming me in front of them.

  I had the urge to bury my face in his neck. Breathe in his warmth. Swim in the possibility.

  And I knew I was getting ahead of myself, but then he spread his hand out against the small of my back and pressed a kiss to my temple.

  That time, there was no stopping it.

  Everything raced.

  Attraction and electricity.

  Leif cleared his throat. “Guys . . . this is Mia. Mia . . . this is the band.”

  He waved a hand at the girl out front. “Emily. Our lead singer. Lyricist and the most memorable, beautiful voice you’ll ever hear.”

  The cute blonde waved with a shy smile. “Hi, Mia. I’m so happy to meet you. And for the record, don’t get too excited. Leif might be exaggerating a tad.”

  Leif leaned toward my ear, though he said it loud enough that everyone could hear. “Not exaggerating.”

  “Hey, Emily,” I said.

  Leif lifted his chin toward the tall guy at her side. “Richard. Guitarist. Songwriter. Vocals. Also Emily’s brother. Two of them started the band way back when they were kids.”

  Oh, yeah, there it was.

  The resemblance.

  “Good to meet you, Mia,” Richard rumbled, eyes roving me, head to toe.

  Not because he was checking me out.

  Okay.

  He was checking me out, but not because he was interested.

  He was looking out for his friend. Wondering about my intentions. If I was there to cling to Leif’s coattails on his way to stardom, get a free ride into the fame and the limelight and, if Lyrik’s predictions were right, a huge fortune in their future.

  Which the idea of it was kind of hysterical considering I’d sworn to myself I’d never date a musician.

  And there I was. The girl hoping to catch the drummer’s eye, but not for any of the reasons that Richard might have assumed.

  “It’s really great to meet you, too, Richard.”

  Leif pointed at the burly guy who’d just been tossing me
around. “And this one here is Rhys. Our bassist. You’d do best to ignore him,” he said, razzing his friend.

  Rhys held up his hands in disbelief, his arms completely covered in gorgeous ink, swirls of words and dancing notes and brilliant, majestic landscapes.

  It seemed completely at odds with the fact he screamed that he was one-hundred percent a country boy.

  All the way to the bones and the scuffed-up boots he wore on his feet.

  “Hold the reins. Ignore me? And how is this girl gonna ignore all this? Come now, Leif. Let’s not talk nonsense. And here you pretend to be the smart one.”

  He gestured to himself.

  A slight giggle slipped out.

  He was a big, huge goofball with an easy smile and a gruff voice.

  He swung his attention to me. “Your boy here is just jealous he’s in the background bangin’ away at those drums and no one pays him a lick of attention. Except, it seems he went off and found himself a little attention, now, didn’t he?”

  He wagged his brows.

  Leif’s chuckle was free and warm, and he cleared his throat. The arm around me twitched, his fingers gliding under the back of my jacket and brushing across the satiny material.

  Like he needed the connection.

  And there went my train of thought.

  Dipping right into his hands.

  Drifting toward his gorgeous body.

  “Mia is Lyrik West’s younger sister.”

  Silence descended, a rumble of shock and eyebrows darting for the sky.

  Lyrik West had that effect.

  At least Richard could rest assured that I wasn’t a starfucker.

  The man roughed a hand through his hair and gave Leif the side eye.

  Like maybe he thought he was crazy.

  Chasing down a death wish.

  My brother came with a reputation.

  No doubt about that.

  Cracking up, Rhys wagged a finger at me, but he was smirking at Leif as the ramble began to pour out, “You really did go and find yourself a rock ‘n’ princess, didn’t you? Royalty, baby.” His gaze shot my way. “Your brother is a motherfuckin’ superstar. Someone stop me if I fangirl.”

  Richard smacked him on the back of the head. “Dude.” He angled his head and repeated it with emphasis. “Dude.”

  I didn’t know if he was telling him to play it cool or reminding him that he was, in fact, a dude.

  Rhys hiked his shoulders to his ears. “What? We’re talkin’ about the Lyrik West. And this is his baby sister. With Leif.”

  There I went with that blush again.

  Emily shoved Rhys in the shoulder. “Like Leif said, you’d do best to ignore this one.”

  Rhys shook his head. “Can a man get no love?”

  She patted his chest. “Not if it’s you.”

  I tried to hide my laughter, and Leif curled me closer, muttered my direction, “I probably should have warned you.”

  Amusement played across my mouth. “You do realize who I have to hang out with all the time? This is nothing.”

  Rhys pointed again, eyes wide as he looked between Leif and the rest of the band. “See. Is anyone else pickin’ up on this shit-fire craziness? She is talking about Sunder right now. Fangirl down.”

  The guy toppled back onto the pitted pavement.

  Putting on a show.

  Richard rubbed his forehead and started back toward the theater, glancing once at me. “Hey, Sunder Princess, we need a new bassist. You know anyone?”

  Rhys popped up. “I’m comin’, asshole. Don’t make me take you down.”

  He ran up behind him and curled an arm around his neck. Richard tossed him off, laughing, and Rhys punched him in the shoulder.

  “Don’t mind my wild boys, Mia,” Emily said. She reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’m really glad you’re gonna be here tonight. We’ve been missin’ Leif like crazy, so we figured we’d better make the trip up here to see what he’s been up to. I’m glad he’s been up to something good.”

  “Emily,” Leif said, part warning, part exasperation.

  “I’m just welcoming your friend, Leif. Southern hospitality and all.” She winked at me and twisted her skirt with an exaggerated curtsy before she turned and headed after Rhys and Richard who were already climbing the back steps.

  The door flung open right before they got there and a girl came rushing out, her brown ponytail swinging around her shoulders.

  “Mells-Bells,” Rhys shouted. “Where the hell have you been all my life?”

  She rolled her eyes and tossed a thumb over her shoulder. “Working. Like you should be. Asses backstage. Soundcheck. Do I have to chase ya’ll down every damn time?”

  They fumbled in, mumbling apologies and hiding their smiles.

  Leif hugged me closer. “So, that’s Carolina George. Melanie is our assistant and Emily’s best friend. Four of them make up the only family I have.”

  And I knew he was giving me a little more.

  A piece of him.

  I peeked at his gorgeous face. Heart manic. Excitement buzzing in my chest, affection riding in right behind it. “I can’t wait to hear you play, Leif. So badly I can hardly stand it. Can’t wait to see you in your element.”

  And maybe that was the most dangerous thing of all.

  Twenty-Six

  Mia

  “How am I supposed to watch out for you if you’re down on the floor?” His voice was a rumble of possessiveness.

  “And how am I supposed to appreciate your talent from way back here?” I returned. “I want to see you up on the stage, Leif. Experience it. I am rock ‘n’ roll royalty, after all. I think I’m a pretty good judge.” I let the tease wind into the air.

  A temptation and a dare.

  Okay, I didn’t have a musical bone in my body.

  But I was pretty sure I’d become adept at appreciating what he had to offer.

  On a low chuckle, he curled his big hand around my hip and tugged me closer. “You might be wearin’ a crown, but I’m thinking it’s the angel kind.”

  A rush of dizziness spun through my head, all supplied by the need woven in his tone and the bottle of champagne I’d shared with Emily and Melanie right before it was time for them to go on.

  He inched forward. His big body eclipsed mine where he nudged me into the shadows backstage.

  I wanted to swoon and sing.

  I brushed my fingertips across his sharp, sharp jaw. “Leif.”

  A plea I didn’t quite understand.

  He dropped his forehead to mine. “How’s it possible it feels like this?”

  “What does it feel like?” I barely managed to force out around the need that had grown thick in my throat.

  He squeezed his eyes shut. “Right.”

  He jerked himself back and stepped away, roughing an anxious hand through his hair.

  Too close.

  Too exposed.

  “If you’re going down there, you’d better hurry. We’re on in a couple of minutes.”

  “Okay.” I started to head for the hall that led to the floor.

  Before I got a foot away, Leif grabbed me by the hand, pulled me back, and spun me around.

  His fingers drove into my hair.

  He kissed me.

  Kissed me long and slow and impossibly.

  His tongue a lash of soft possession. Rigid, terrified devotion. He curled his hands around my head, twisting my hair up in a mess of need, the harsh rake of his breaths panted into my mouth.

  I was gasping by the time he pulled back, clinging to his shirt, unable to stand.

  A small smirk ticked up at one side of his delicious mouth, his thumb coming to brush across my swollen lips. “Told you I was going to kiss that lipstick off later.”

  I inched back. Inhaled a shaky breath. Grabbed the tube of it that was in my pocket and smeared it across the tingling flesh. “In case you want to give it another try later.”

  Then I moved around him, caressing my fingertips over the r
aging in his chest as I passed by, unable to stand there for a second longer without completely losing myself.

  Could feel his groan clamoring after me. My mouth tugged at a grin, but I didn’t look back, just swung my hips back and forth as I headed for the hall.

  So maybe I wanted to play.

  Watch the way his jaw clenched and his eyes darkened with a raw, desperate hunger.

  Affect him a little the way he was affecting me.

  The second I slipped around the corner, I beelined down the hall, practically running toward the door that let out to the floor. Too eager for my own good. I knew it. Knew I was teetering on a razor-sharp edge.

  But right then, I was savoring this reprieve.

  The grief would always be there, the fear of what was to come lingering at the back of my mind.

  But Leif reminded me there was light in the darkness.

  Hope in the destitution.

  My fingers itched.

  Colors flashed behind my eyes. Breath stolen with the compulsion to find a paintbrush.

  It was Leif. It was Leif.

  I pushed through the door, edging by the giant bouncer guarding the back, and shouldered my way through the crowd that vied to get a spot up close to the base of the stage.

  Begging for attention. To feel a part of that energy that rippled through the air.

  Something acute and extraordinary.

  Potent and persuasive.

  Like you were watching the sky. Waiting on something magnificent to happen.

  I weaved my way through, unable to stop the magnet that pulled me forward.

  It was Leif. It was Leif.

  The lights flashed, and the crowd stirred, a crush of bodies that swelled toward the foot of the stage.

  Pressed so tight you could hardly move.

  But the vibe was different than a Sunder show.

  Tonight, it was missing that raw, savage intensity that pulsed and throbbed and threatened to break loose. The mood hinged on chaos that was getting ready to crack.

  Here, it was nothing but excited shouts that echoed from the walls, falling from the lofts that housed the specialty tickets and booths, whistles zinging and boots clattering on the hardwood floors.

  The lights flashed again, dimming before a single teal spotlight blazed through the night.

  Drumsticks lifted in the air, and Leif drummed them together over his head, a crack, crack, crack that reverberated through the atmosphere, that striking jaw clenched and his head bobbing with the beat.