Fight the Spark: Sons of Sinners Part 1 (A Rock Star Romance)

by Grace James

  “We only got a week in the studio to do it, and obviously we have work during the day, so we’ve got an engineer who’s willing to record through the night. Once the tracks are down and mixed we can start the promotion. The tour’s been confirmed too, for real.”

  “That’s amazing – I can’t believe you guys are going to have to record through the night though. Can’t you get time off work?”

  “Nah, our foreman won’t give us any more time off. We’ve called in all the favors we had stored up over the last few months when we needed time off for shows and interviews and shit. Derren and Kane can maybe get their stuff recorded during the day – Aiden’s still working out the details.”

  “It’s a shame you guys can’t quit work yet.”

  “Tell me about it, but you know how it is.”

  As a matter of fact, I did. I’d been privy to enough of Derren’s off the cuff tirades on ‘Band Business 101’ – as I’d dubbed them internally – to understand that you had to wait for the right time to take the leap and put everything into the band, a point where there could be no going back. That point was already scheduled in for Sons of Sinners – the arena tour with Divide was looming on the horizon.

  “Well, it’s only a couple of months away now, right? Then you’ll be living the dream.” I smiled at him; I was excited for them, but every time I thought of them going away I couldn’t help feeling a little sad.

  “Yeah, it’s not long,” Blake agreed, watching me closely.

  I looked down and forced myself to focus on the menu. “You want to split the meat platter?”

  He smirked wickedly. “You want the Jumbo Meat or can you only handle the Medium Meat?”

  I rolled my eyes, trying not to smile. “Grow up.”

  “Can’t. It’s like I got stuck at fifteen.”

  I shook my head. “You’re unbelievable.”

  “That’s what they tell me.” He winked.

  “Sure they do,” I laughed, shaking my head again.

  The waitress appeared to drop off our drinks. I looked up to see her turn a dazzling smile on Blake, but he wasn’t looking at her. He was focused on me, a slight smirk still pulling at his lips.

  I felt a warm sensation pool in my stomach – swiftly followed by a now familiar feeling of guilt.

  “We’ll get the Jumbo Meat Platter to share,” Blake said, eyes still locked on me, even when she lightly touched his arm before walking away – well, more like sashaying away.

  We sat in silence for a few moments, sipping our Cokes, until he spoke again. “Y’know, I never really had this before.”

  “You never had what before? The Jumbo Meat platter?”

  He grinned. “No. I mean a girl friend, as in a girl who’s a friend.”

  “So you admit we’re friends now?” I raised my eyebrows teasingly.

  “Well, y’know, apparently all the best friendships are built on mutual dislike.”

  “Whoever told you that must be very smart.”

  “Well, she has her moments – maybe – sometimes.”

  “Wow, that was almost a compliment. And to think, when we first met, you hated me on sight.”

  He winced and chuckled simultaneously. “Nah, not really.”

  “Oh, no?”

  He shook his head and took a long drink of his Coke, letting the silence stretch and making no move to fill it.

  The waitress sashayed back over with our food and placed the steaming platter of assorted meat cuts in front of us, along with two plates. For several minutes we didn’t talk, just wolfed our food down. I hadn’t realized quite how hungry I was.

  “This is amazing,” I said, gnawing on a rib.

  “You should try the pulled pork, it’s delicious.”

  “This from the guy who wasn’t hungry,” I said, pointing my rib, now picked clean, at him.

  “Yeah, but you knew better.”

  I grinned at him and spooned some of the pork onto my plate before piling a generous helping onto my fork and popping it into my mouth.

  “Fuck me, that’s a lot of meat you got in your mouth there, Princess.” His eyes were dancing with amusement at his own joke.

  I tried to fight the blush that was rising on my cheeks, narrowing my eyes at him as I chewed and swallowed. “How long have you been waiting to say that?”

  “Too long, since the food arrived, but you just kept eating the damn ribs.”

  “And do you feel better now you’ve got it out of your system?”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, I do actually.”

  I snorted and shook my head at him before taking another bite, daring him with my eyes to make another comment. But he didn’t, and silence descended again, until he broke it a few minutes later. “So, Con said you’ve been really busy with college recently?”

  “…yeah,” I answered cautiously, it was an area where Connor and I tended to disagree. He couldn’t seem to understand why I sometimes got so uptight about getting good grades. I thought it was pretty freaking obvious why.

  “I never asked you what area of Business you study.”

  I blinked in mild surprise at his interest. “Um, Entrepreneurship.”

  “Yeah? So you wanna run your own business someday?”

  “I think so. I’m not a hundred percent sure what I want to do, to be honest. Maybe – I don’t know…” I trailed off, feeling a little self conscious.

  “What? Tell me,” he demanded.

  “Well, I was always kinda interested in owning my own venue for live music.”

  His eyebrows flew up. “Shit, really?”

  “Yeah, why’s that surprising?”

  “I don’t know, I guess it shouldn’t be really. You’re into music after all. I just figured you’d end up working for some huge dot-com company or something.”

  “Well, who knows, maybe I will. Like I said, I haven’t really decided.”

  “You got time to figure it out though, right? You’re only young.”

  I snorted. “You say that like you’re so much older.”

  He shrugged and grinned. “I guess sometimes four years seems like a lot.”

  “You’re only three years older now, actually.”

  “Thought you were nineteen?”

  “Well, see, I had this thing called a birthday.”

  “I missed your birthday? Shit, I had big plans for that.” He shook his head ruefully.

  “Uh, what?” I asked, surprised that he would have any plans relating to my birthday – then I noticed that his smirk had re-surfaced.

  “I was gonna try and top my last gift.” He winked suggestively.

  I remembered his horrible prank Christmas gift that I had unwittingly opened in front of my – very distressed – parents. “Then thank God you missed it!”

  He laughed. “C’mon, you gotta admit it was funny.”

  “My parents were horrified!”

  He laughed harder. “Oh shit, sorry.”

  “No you’re not!” I tried to sound annoyed but by then I was giving in to the giggles myself.

  “You shoulda seen what I was gonna buy,” he chuckled. “What you ended up with was tame.”

  I put my hands over my ears, scrunching my eyes shut. “La la la! Don’t wanna know!”

  He smacked his palm on the table as he doubled up laughing.

  Just then the waitress reappeared and asked if we were done with our food.

  “Nah,” Blake answered, taking a breath to calm his laughter. “We’re still eating, we just got caught up.”

  After she disappeared again, we returned to our food. The mood between us was light and comfortable, and I was loathe to ruin it, but I knew I couldn’t ignore what Blake’s father had said to me – what he’d asked me to say to Blake.

  “Blake?” I said, tentatively.

  He looked at me questioningly. “That’s a serious look.”

  My stomach knotted, I knew that this could go so wrong. “At the cemetery, after you walked away, your dad asked me to tell you something…” I
trailed off and bit my lip, waiting for his anger and bitterness to bubble up again.

  His blue gaze darkened. “Did he upset you?”

  “Oh, no, nothing like that.”

  He frowned and leant forward, his right hand moving across the table, towards mine. My fingers tingled at the anticipation of his touch, but then his hand stopped abruptly an inch from mine.

  It sounds ridiculous, but I was mesmerized by the sight of our hands so close together; his long, thick fingers almost touching my slender ones.

  “Princess?” Blake’s deep voice brought me to my senses and I pulled my eyes away from our hands and focused on his face again.

  “I just wasn’t sure if you’d want to talk about him,” I admitted. “Do you want to know what he said? I understand if you don’t, but I wouldn’t have felt right if I didn’t at least mention it.”

  He looked away and appeared to consider my words for a few seconds. “Sure. Tell me.”

  “He said that he wanted me to tell you that he was sorry for how he treated you and for the things he did.”

  Blake grunted and nodded, like I wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t already know.

  “He did…seem really sorry,” I ventured.

  He kept staring into the distance. “You know why I hate him.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “Yeah, I do.” I reached out and touched the back of his hand softly.

  Lightening quick, he lifted his hand and caught mine, linking our fingers together, so that we were holding hands, palm to palm. At the same time, he looked me dead in the eye. There was something swirling in the depths of his sapphire gaze that I couldn’t identify.

  But I wanted to.

  I wanted to know what he was thinking.

  His grip on my hand tightened. “Why do you care about me?” He demanded.

  “What?” I gasped.

  “I’ve been a dick to you more times than I can count. Why do you care about me?” he repeated.

  “What do you mean?” My voice wavered.

  “Is it ‘cause I’m Connor’s cousin? Are you nice to me for him? Is this all for him?” He was looking at me intently, like he was searching for answers in my eyes.

  My blood was pumping in my temples; all I could focus on was the feel of his huge hand encasing mine, the way our fingers interlaced seamlessly. I was struggling to form a coherent thought. I bit my lip in consternation, knowing I should pull my hand away, but unable to actually do it.

  “Fuck,” Blake muttered gruffly. Abruptly, he dropped my hand and rubbed his palm on his thigh, like he was trying to erase the feel of my skin on his. He closed his eyes for a second and when he opened them again, the intensity had dulled. “Sorry, Princess. It’s been a weird ass day. Just forget I said anything.”

  “Um…yeah, okay,” I said quietly, looking down at my hands that were now clenched tightly on my lap. “I really have to study this afternoon. We should maybe get the check?”

  I looked back up to see him already scanning the restaurant, looking for the waitress. She was serving a family a few tables away and Blake caught her eye easily. “Can we get the check, darlin’?” he called over. I was pretty sure his deep voice was deliberately seductive, especially the way he lingered on that last word.

  Jealousy and relief crashed together inside of me – my emotions were so messed up.

  When the waitress deposited the check on the table, I grabbed for it, but so did Blake. Our fingers touched and we both immediately tensed, jolting our hands away.

  Things were going from awkward to excruciating reeeal fast.

  “I’ll get this,” I said. “It was my idea to get something to eat in the first place.”

  “You’re not getting it, Princess.” Blake swiped the check quickly and pulled his wallet out of his pocket.

  “Blake –”

  “No. This is on me.”

  “At least let’s go halves.”

  “Not happening. You’re a broke student. I’m rich as fuck. Have you seen where I live?” he added sardonically.

  I couldn’t help a small smile at his joke. “The Downtown Palace?”

  He returned my tentative grin. “That’s the one.”

  “It is pretty luxurious.”

  “Right?”

  “Comes complete with a homeless person on your couch,” I quipped, then instantly regretted it. The reference to Connor made my guilt flow back through me at full force.

  It must have affected Blake too because all the humor dropped from his face. He stood and threw some bills on the table. “Let’s go.”

  I followed him out of the restaurant and we headed towards my car in silence. I looked everywhere but at him. When we reached my car I finally glanced at over him; his expression was carefully blank. “Thank you for today, Princess,” he said sincerely. “Study hard, okay?” He turned to walk away.

  “Hey!” I called after him. “You don’t want a ride?”

  “Nah,” he called over his shoulder. “Think I’ll take a walk.”

  Despite how wrong I knew it was, I couldn’t help feeling disappointed as I watched him walk away.

  59

  After that day at Rib Eyes, I stepped up my Avoid Blake At All Costs agenda to new heights. I resolved to do everything I could not to spend time alone with him – not that he was exactly beating down the door to spend time alone with me either.

  It helped that, not long afterwards, Connor found himself a new place to live. Once I found out about that, I was able to comfort myself with the knowledge that the chance of Blake and I randomly seeing each other – apart from at shows or socially, in a group – would fall to a tiny percentage.

  The thing is, the universe apparently had other ideas.

  60

  I staggered up the few remaining steps and turned down the hallway, the cardboard box in my arms becoming heavier with every step.

  “What the hell does he have in here?” I muttered to myself as I shoulder-barged the partially open apartment door and half-dropped, half-placed the box on the floor. “That’s the last of them,” I said, straightening up and wiping the sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand.

  “Thanks.”

  Connor’s back was to me. He was leaning over the back of the TV, fiddling with the wires back there.

  I put my hands on my hips and looked around the small studio apartment. There was a bed and a couch that had both seen better days, and a few more cardboard boxes dumped haphazardly around the place. The small kitchenette sported faded yellow linoleum with a myriad of old stains splattering its surface. Apart from the small window in the bathroom, there was only one other window in the tiny apartment. It led to a rickety fire escape that creaked in the light wind.

  Connor straightened up and took a few steps backwards, away from the TV, before glancing at me and ceremoniously pressing a button on the remote. The small TV flared to life. “Yes! I’m done!” He flopped down on the couch and grinned up at me.

  “You’re not going to unpack the rest of this stuff?”

  “Later. You want coffee?”

  “Is this you really asking me to make you coffee? Wait, do you even have coffee?”

  He smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. “Shit! No.”

  I laughed and plopped down next to him. “The thing about having your own place is that you also have to get your own groceries.” I looked over at the little kitchenette. “You don’t have a kettle either, by the way.”

  He followed my gaze. “Dammit. What else don’t I have?”

  “You want me to make you a list?” When he didn’t answer I looked at him.

  He was wincing and nodding like, I’m SO out of my depth.

  I couldn’t help giggling at his hopelessness. I leant towards him, kissing him and wrapping my arms around his neck. “You want to get takeout for dinner? That place down the street does great noodles.”

  He suddenly looked uncomfortable. “Uh, well, I can’t really do dinner tonight. I promised t
he guys I’d meet them at Filthy’s.”

  I deflated. I had barely seen Connor properly in weeks; he was busy with the band almost every second that he wasn’t at work.

  “Oh, okay,” I said. “But I thought you had a night off tonight?”

  “Well…I do.” He shifted a little and I released my hold on his neck and sat up straighter, looking at him for an explanation. “I’m meeting Matt and Luke. I haven’t seen them in a while, I’ve been so busy with the band. I promised I’d catch up with them.”

  “Oh, well, I could come?” I asked tentatively, even though I knew his answer before he even said it.

  “Yeah…but it’s just the guys tonight.”

  Of course it is, Bitter Amy piped up. His only night off from the band in forever and he would rather spend it with his idiot friends than me.

  I got to my feet, but before I could move away, he grabbed my hand and pulled me back down to the couch. “Hey!” I cried, unable to mask my irritation.

  “Stay here tonight?” he asked, pinning me with his green eyes.

  “What? But you’re going out.”

  “But if you stay here, you’ll be here when I get home.” He cupped my cheek and leaned in, nibbling my bottom lip lightly. “I like the thought of you here waiting for me.” He grinned as I huffed and rolled my eyes, then pulled back and freed his wallet from his jean pocket, handing me a ten. “Get yourself some of those noodles, watch some TV, unpack some of my crap –” he grinned wider as I smacked his arm “– and I’ll see you when I get home.”

  For a few seconds I didn’t say anything.

  My choices sucked.

  If I stayed, I knew that I’d feel pathetic, waiting all night for him to come home – and when he did come home he would probably be wasted.

  But if I didn’t stay, I would probably spend all night wishing I was there and wondering if I’d made the wrong choice.

  I wanted to act aloof and go back to my place...but I wanted him to come home to me at the end of the night too.

  Like I said, my choices sucked…

  “Okay,” I eventually agreed, quietly.

  He grinned and kissed me on the forehead; then headed to the bathroom to take a shower and get ready.