by Shey Stahl
He swallows. His eyes dart from my lips to my hair as his palm touches my cheek softly. From the burning curiosity in his eyes, I know the question that will follow. “Has anyone. . . touched you like this?” He holds my stare, daring me to answer. He takes my hand that’s on his face and pushes it to the mattress and breathes in through his nose, waiting on my response. His body is tense, so wound tight and controlled that he’s shaky above me. Through sheer white curtains, the room glows blue right before dawn overtakes it, just the same as the eyes that hold me in place.
I don’t answer him right away. And it’s not because I don’t want to, but there’s something incredibly vulnerable about him now and I’m speechless. This man evokes reactions out of millions just by the power of his voice, and here he is, nervously awaiting to discover if another man has touched me like him. “Not since you,” I whisper, watching his eyes that used to haunt me.
My words wash over him, and he sighs. His body trembles as he fights the urge to push forward, but then he sucks in a sharp breath, using every muscle in his body not to.
His lips are on mine next, overly excited and though I know this probably isn’t going to last long for him, as he warned me before it even began.
Wrapping my hands around his neck, I pull him closer. My legs catch and tangle with his, trapping us. I kiss him like I mean it, like I’m trying to convince him of my words. I need him. Now. It’s been too long since I’ve been held like this. Using my feet, I push his jeans to his ankles, where he kicks them off.
His hands return to my hips when he enters me. The swell of him, the way he carefully handles my body, it’s almost too much. A rumble rises in his chest as he whispers, “God, Red, I can’t get enough of you.” He pants against my shoulder, shaking his head. Nudging my legs apart more with his knees, he rocks against me. My body shivers under his rough touch. I don’t want him to stop. His breathing comes harder and faster than before. Revel’s hands clamp down on my shoulders, pulling me into each forceful thrust.
Gliding his nose along my jaw, he brushes his parted lips over mine. “Is there still a place for me here?” he asks, moving his hand from my cheek to my heart.
“Always.”
He groans when my nails rake down his back, giving me all his weight as sounds of his pleasure resonate through him to me. I grip his neck, his sides, I need him this way, and I want to feel him come. It’s been so long. Time goes by slowly. He stops numerous times, trying to make it last longer, but my body is aching after an hour and I’m not sure he’s going to stop.
“Revel. . . . ,” I sigh gently, pushing against his shoulders with my palms, trying to catch my breath.
“I love you,” he whispers, kissing me once again.
“I love you, too.” When our eyes catch, he laughs lightly, his body shaking, his breathing ragged, his arms and legs shaking. Gliding his nose along my jaw, his mouth parts over mine and he growls against my lips, the rumble moving through me.
And when it’s over, we do it again, this time slower. When we do stop for room service, our hands don’t leave one another as we memorize every detail we’d missed with our time apart.
With his body spread out before me, I catch a glimpse of the ink on his stomach and bare chest. My hand moves from the mattress and travels lower over the dragon tattoo on his back and side. “What’s the dragon stand for?”
His breath increases, his nose brushing my cheek when he sits up. “I got it in South America. The guy told me it represents power and endurance,” he says, laughing lightly. “But I was high, so who fucking knows.”
I smile against his skin.
With syrup on our lips, we tangle on top of the sheets as he pins me to the mattress. He curves his finger under my chin to make me look at him. I feel bare when he looks at me like this, but also so incredibly alive.
Licking his lips, he pushes his thumb over my collarbone, then lower over my chest to my heart. “I missed being right here.”
He leans closer, our noses and foreheads touching before kissing me softly. “When I was in rehab, they had me write letters to everyone I’d hurt. I wrote them, but then I burned them. Not once could I write one to you though,” Revel admits, his arms circling around my back, holding me tight. “I’m sorry about New York… behind the stage. I should have never. . . I shouldn’t have been like that with you. And I’m sorry about Denver.”
“I know.” My nose rubs along his jaw, his trembling hands finding my hips.
“Do you?” Revel pushes me away by my hips and turns me around to face him. “Do you know how fucking badly it hurt to watch you walk away?”
Did I know?
No, I didn’t know because I wasn’t Revel. But I knew why I couldn’t stay with him at the time. “It wasn’t just about what happened with Breckin.”
“I know, but it doesn’t make what I did right. When I saw him touch you on that stage….” He laughs, but it’s not from entertainment. There’s an edge to it. It’s malicious. “When I looked at him, that’s what killed me. I wanted to murder that motherfucker, and at the time, I blacked out. I don’t even remember anything after that first hit.” His smile fades. “I didn’t know what I was doing.”
I’m afraid to move, afraid he will stop talking and shut down, so I listen. With an open heart, I listen.
“That wasn’t what scared me though,” he adds, watching my face as he speaks. “I was afraid after what I did that you would leave me. That you’d finally see what a fuck up I really am. You deserve better.”
“You’re not giving yourself enough credit.”
He moves some of my hair behind my ear and pushes his thumb along my bottom lip. We make eye contact before he looks away with a smirk. “Red?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
I suck in my bottom lip, sinking my teeth into it. “Why don’t you show me the meaning of Revved then.”
REVEL
THREE YEARS LATER
Madison Square Garden
NEW YEAR’S EVE
Remember the dragon on my back? It’s still there, but it’s no longer the most talked about tattoo in the music industry. My daughter is. Not that she has a tattoo, but me being a dad. . . you’re surprised too, aren’t you?
Why is she the most talked about? Because, again, they have nothing better to talk about. Could be that. More than likely it’s because I’ve yet to even confirm my relationship with Red, let alone our marriage, daughter, or her being pregnant and ready to pop again. True to form, I’ve given some seriously bullshit answers because it’s none of their goddamn business what my daughter’s name is or the sex of our unborn baby, or even that we’re married. Why do I do this?
It’s what I do.
I avoid.
Deter.
Distract.
Lie.
I do this because I live in a glass box and if I want to keep my family to myself, then I fucking will. Do you share everything in your life? Didn’t think so.
Liz pops her head in the dressing room. “Showtime, boys.”
I still hate being told what to do, but my attention is more on the two-year-old trashing our dressing room.
“No, no,” I warn, smiling at my daughter.
Pouty lips and blue eyes that mirror my own scowl at me. “Mine.” Her eyes are about the only thing she got from me, aside from my temper. Though even that can be argued when you’ve pissed Red off. Once, about a year ago, she threw a glass at my head. I have the three-inch long scar to prove it. By the way, I deserved it, probably. I don’t remember.
Navy is, in fact, a spitting image of my wife. Even has her fire-red hair.
Why is everything “mine” to a two-year-old? “Navy, I mean it. Don’t touch.” Navy Rome Slade is my world as is her mother, my queen, is doing everything in her power not to laugh at me trying to teach our daughter to respect my collection of guitars.
From the first time she heard me play, Navy has been utterly obsessed with guitars and she’s destroyed
three so far. You wouldn’t think a two-year-old could destroy a guitar, would you? You would be wrong. She has my blood running through her veins.
“I touch it?” she asks again, her hand on the neck.
“I know you did.” I kneel next to her, tapping my finger to her chubby little hand on the guitar. “I’m telling you no.”
Now she resembles her mother and defiantly crosses her arms. “No.”
I pick her up off the floor. “Okay, crazy, let’s move onto something else.”
“No, pretty!” And then she lunges for my Gibson. It’s not my original. I destroyed that, but this one, Red gave me, and it’s just as special.
I didn’t have a memorable childhood, nor do I remember much. Maybe it’s my way of blocking it out. I’m not entirely sure, but I do remember that guitar and I hate that I destroyed it over something so stupid.
Red approaches, smiling at me. “I got her.” I hand her over when the guys enter the dressing room. Leaning in, she kisses me. “Good luck.”
Navy pushes Red’s face away from mine. “No, Mommy. No kiss.”
And when I try to kiss Navy, I get the same response.
Hardin smiles when they leave. “You’re so fucking whipped, man.”
I shrug. He’s no better. “I’ll tell ya who’s gonna be whipped. You, if you touch that goddamn amp again tonight. You’re drowning me out on stage.”
“Believe me, Rev, it’s for the better.” And there we go, arguing like we’ve always done.
He fucking wishes it was for the better because my performance has never been fiercer. It’s why ten years after we started the band, we’re still at the top of the charts and touring all over the world with multi-platinum records.
As we wait for the opening band to finish and we get the call to make our way to the stage, I’m reminded of why this venue holds memories for me.
It’s the first place Red and I performed “Roses of Revenge” together, and though this place holds memories for me, good ones, it holds a lot of bad ones too. That night after the show, that’s when I truly understood how deep it’d gotten with Red, and knew the only possible way to end it—to make her see she was too good for me—would be to treat her like she wasn’t good enough. I hate myself for it now, but somehow, she forgave me.
You’re probably wondering how all this happened, the kid, the forgiveness… it happened slowly. After that night in Paris, Red finished out her tour in France and then I went on tour. It was six months of late-night flights only to see each other for a few hours and then onto the next city. We lived out of suitcases and the brief moments in between that, we were able to see each other. That summer, I married her in Vegas. She didn’t want a big wedding, nor did I, so we just did it. I got her pregnant that same night and nine months to the day, Navy was born.
And now here I am, pouring my heart out to a sold-out show at Madison Square Garden, and it’s the two girls in the front row who keep taking my attention. It’s still a rock concert, but me and the guys, we’re different now. There’s no drugs, some drinking—no, not by me—and we’re all married now. Even Hardin. But the music, it’s just as amazing as it’s ever been. I still get the same high as I did the first time I played in front of someone as I do now, only it means something more because I finally appreciate it. I have a girl to thank for that.
“I wanna introduce you guys to someone,” I say into the microphone, motioning Red forward. Confusion crosses her face. Security helps them to the stage, Navy securely on her hip.
“What are you doing, Rev?” she whispers, keeping her hand on her stomach, smiling at me as she waddles the rest of the way to me.
As soon as she’s within a foot of me, Navy practically jumps in my arms, her wild red locks falling into her face. “Hi, Daddy!” she screams, the slaps her hand to my cheek for no apparent reason at all.
Laughing, I adjust the microphone in my hand and hold my daughter to my chest. When she lays her head on my shoulder, I kiss her forehead only to have the crowd sigh. Do you see that guy standing on the lip of the stage holding a squirming little girl with red hair? That’s me. Revel Slade. Lead singer of the biggest rock band in the world, and he’s full of unconditional love for two girls who own his heart.
“Sing with me.”
“Now?”
“Why not? It’s been a while.”
Red pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes on Navy. Turning to the crowd, I smile. “You guys wanna hear ‘Roses of Revenge,’ don’t you?”
They scream in response so I hand the mic to Red and whisper in her ear, “Eyes on you, princess.”
At this point in the book, it’s half-finished, and I’m doing the acknowledgments so I don’t forget who to thank. It’s about fifty thousand words and I love every single one of them. I love this book, the characters, the broken pieces and the beautiful ones.
Music. Music. Music.
I couldn’t have written any of this book without my playlist that included Imagine Dragons, Prince, Halsey, Mumford & Sons.
I also couldn’t have written this book without Lauren, Mahalia Rose, and Janet! And my amazingly talented, patient, understanding, kick-ass editor, Becky Johnson, and her whole team at Hot Tree Editing (Mandy, you’re amazing, girl). Thank you, Becky. I know I hand you half-finished manuscripts and you guide me along to make the best possible one. There aren’t enough thank yous in the world to give you.
Now back to writing….
November. It’s all about Thanksgiving. Pretty much my favorite holiday ever.
December. I don’t remember much about this month. Christmas was in there somewhere. At least that’s what my bank account tells me. Who shops at Target that much in one month? Right. Me.
January. In between writing and being a mom, laundry seems to have exploded all over my couch.
And now here we are, I’m back after doing my round of edits and rewrites, which, by the way, in case you’re curious took one hundred and eighty-nine hours to complete in thirteen days. Lucky thirteen I guess but, dude, I’m so exhausted. So much thought went into writing Revel and planning. I wrote the majority of my rewrites in a notebook I carried around with me for two weeks, and even after my final edit, I kept adding to the book because in my heart, this book couldn’t be just good. It had to tell their story and they wouldn’t let me rest until it was perfect.
Revel is honestly unlike any other character I’ve written. I think I say that about all my characters, but he truly is. He’s a little like Jameson, Tiller, Caleb… he has pieces of them all and then again, he’s his own monster. I read a lot of biographies from sports figures and comedians, and it’s a common theme among them all if fame finds you sooner than you’re capable of dealing with it, the effects on your life can be catastrophic. That’s where I drew inspiration for both Revel and Taylan. And I think because of that, they both came to life for me because they felt so real. I loved that together they had that one thing in common, and it was the vice their relationship held onto until the end. Thank you for reading it. I hope you enjoyed them as much as I did.
I have to throw out a few more thank yous to a few very special people that made this book what it is. First, Thomas, (revolutionary_badboy) you are a badass and your ability to capture your unique edge with words is extraordinary. (If you don’t follow him on Instagram, you should be!) Thank you for being behind some of Revel’s lyrics. Your words sold me the first time I opened your Instagram page. I can’t wait to have you on a book cover soon!
Michelle, girl, you’re exactly what I needed. Thank you for the cover photo of Josh. Actually, I have to thank Melissa first for finding my muse behind Revel, and then you for the most amazing photograph. It fit Revel so perfectly. You’re amazing and I’m so thankful for Melissa for showing me your work. I can’t wait to continue working with you.
Josh, you’re amazingly humble and sweet, and I’m so excited to have you on the cover in all your perfection. I know you guys didn’t create that photo specifically for this cov
er, but it worked and you pull off badass so well. And that video you guys created… there aren’t even words for it. You are my Revel Slade!
USA Today Bestselling Author, Shey Stahl is a lover of sunsets, dirt track racing, and the south, where her soul wants to be. Writing is her passion, giving words meaning, and readers experiences they’ll never forget. Currently she’s living in the pacific northwest with her husband and daughter, she can usually be found near a dirt track with an iced coffee in hand.
VISIT HER WEBSITE FOR ADDITIONAL INFORMATION AND KEEP UP TO DATE ON NEW RELEASES:
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Table of Contents
Table of Contents
REVEL
Copyrights
Contact Information
Books by Shey
Quote
Playlist
Prologue
1 Dragon on my Back
2 The Princess of Pop
3 Princess is looking for a king
4 What the hell?
5 She’s off limits
6 Who the hell is this guy?
7 The forbidden fruit
8 Don’t bite the apple
9 Annoyance
10 Unexpected rescue
11 The night I lost my mind
12 Playing games with the devil
13 What did I agree to?
14 Eyes on you, Princess
15 You should walk away
16 Foggy memory. Again.
17 I tried to stay away
18 Untouchable
19 Give me your hand
20 An invitation, should I take it.
21 Give her what she wants
22 In a different light
23 Maybe it’s better this way
24 Merry and Moping
