by Marian Tee
The Rockstar I’ve Loved for So Long
By
Marian Tee
Copyright 2013 by Marian Tee
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
He loves me hard. He loves me sweet. He loves me all night long – and then some more.
He’s my first crush, my first lover and he even promises to be my first and last.
All I have to do in return is promise that I won’t ever forget he’s not mine because Dylan Charbonneau is the world’s favorite rock star boyfriend.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I owe my humblest and sincerest thanks to God, my family, and partner Allen Tan.
This book wouldn’t have been as pretty – inside and out – as it is now if not for the help of CT Cover Creations and The Passionate Proofreader.
Last but not the least, thank you to my fellow boxed set authors – Liliana Rhodes, Mina V. Esguerra, Caitlyn Duffy, Ava Lore, and K.T. Fisher – I’m so honored that you guys trusted me on this one. I hope we can work on something like this every year!
Prologue
Sabrina “Bree” Wyle should have worn her glasses, shouldn’t have let vanity get the better of her. But like most good ideas, it came a little too late and now she was dying of curiosity.
The guy on stage had the most beautiful voice – and that was all she knew. Stupid impaired eyesight only allowed her to make out a figure in white – and that was it.
Something about that voice made Bree catch her breath. She didn’t love rock music like her friend did, but she had attended this concert anyway, figuring it was about time she came out of her shell.
She was fourteen already and she still hadn’t had her first kiss. Everyone she knew had theirs when they weren’t even in their teens.
Tonight was all about being girly and not dorky, but it had been an epic fail – or at least it had been until this guy came on stage.
Squinting hard, she tried to make better sense of his features. Dark hair? Tanned skin? Really tall? She just couldn’t tell, and she and Saffi already had front row seats, courtesy of her chaperone’s famous last name.
Tugging at Saffi’s sleeve, she whispered self-consciously, “Tell me. Is he gorgeous?” Bree didn’t want to risk anyone accidentally hearing her ask about a guy. Especially this guy. It just wasn’t done for a dork like her to even dare have a crush on a rock star.
“Yup!” Saffi clucked her tongue. “You really should’ve worn your glasses, Bree.”
“Easy for you to say,” Bree huffed. Saffi, who was older by four years, might be a bigger nerd than her, but she would never have to worry about looking like one.
Saffi looked like a cute doll. Bree didn’t – unless it was ideal to look like Chucky’s oversized teenage sister.
Saffi sighed. “You’ve got the strangest hang-ups about your looks! You’re stunning, voluptuous—”
“Yeah, yeah.” Bree thought the world of Saffi, but she was too nice. She wasn’t blind about her looks. She was too everything that was not right. Too curvy, too fair, too ordinary with too brown hair and too brown eyes.
The rock star was singing the last lines of his song, which was haunting and catchy at the same time. Impressive for a self-composed song from someone who wasn’t even a pro.
Thinking about that voice saying her name was enough to make Bree blush. Oh God, she really did wish she had brought her glasses with her. She’d risk wearing it outside school just to know what this guy really looked like.
The song ended and the huge crowd of high school girls screamed. Bree shrieked with them and so did Saffi, who was sort of a professional screamer – the kind that didn’t go hoarse even after screaming nonstop for hours.
“Is he gone?”
“Backstage,” Saffi confirmed.
Bree’s shoulders slumped. And there went her first crush. Well, it was sweet while it lasted.
They met with Silver, one of Saffi’s older brothers, at the side of the stage, where he had been hanging out with his own set of friends. If Saffi was Bree’s chaperone, then Silver was hers. It had always been so since Saffi was the baby of her family.
“How did you find your first concert, Bree?” There was a grin in Silver’s voice that made Bree grin back.
“It was great.”
Pause.
And then Silver said, “Aaaaah.”
Bree scowled. “Saffi, you always did have a big mouth!”
Saffi giggled.
“I know him, actually. Well, he’s more like an acquaintance,” Silver said. “His name’s Dylan Charbonneau and we’ve bumped into each other a few times in some parties. He’s enrolled in one of those art colleges in NYC.”
Bree suppressed a sigh. Dylan Charbonneau. Even his name sounded way out of her league.
“Is it okay if you guys wait for me here while I check out the souvenir booth?” Saffi asked. “I saw something I want to buy.”
Silver raised a brow. “Really? You listen to rock music?”
Bree kept her face blank at the question.
“It’s not rock music. It’s more like, a fusion of dance and European rock,” Saffi answered very seriously.
“We’ll go with you,” Silver said.
Saffi didn’t answer.
Knowing it was because Saffi didn’t want any of her family to know about how much of a hardcore fangirl she could get over Staffan Aehrenthal, Bree said quickly, “I, umm, need to go to the restroom. Could you walk with me first and then we can catch up with Saffi after?”
She could feel Silver looking at her and Bree did her best not to squirm. Silver March might have a reputation for being one of the country’s most charming playboys, but it didn’t mean he was stupid. Far from it.
Saffi added helpfully, “You have to walk her to the restroom first, Silver. She’s blind.”
Bree glared. Silver laughed.
“True,” Saffi’s brother confirmed.
“I changed my mind,” she said huffily, knowing the two gorgeous individuals before her would never understand what it meant to grow up as a four-eyed geek.
“I was kidding,” Silver said, albeit with a grin still underlining his voice as he patted her head. “Come on, off we go.”
Silver was usually a touchy-feely kind of guy, but with the younger girl he was careful about the boundaries, knowing Bree wasn’t comfortable about getting too close.
“Here, Bree,” he said, knowing she would have a harder time seeing with most of the lights already switched off.
Silver turned to check on Bree over his shoulder and saw her following him – to the wrong door. She squinted at the door, where the word BACKSTAGE was written.
He opened his mouth to call her back—
Bree opened the door.
—and decided to shut up, a smile playing on his lips. Little Bree needed an adventure to shake things up a little bit in her life, and this would be the perfect way to get it.
He followed her inside quietly, shaking his head in warning when one of the lackeys stationed at the inner hallway was about to reprimand Bree for trespassing.
The other guy quickly shut up, as he should.
After all, he was Silver March, and this was his town.
****
Third time should be the charm, Bree thought, face still red at what had happened when she had opened two wrong doors. She didn’t know what those rooms were, but they definitely weren’
t the ladies’ rooms – or if they were, then they were fully occupied.
The sounds the couples had been making in those rooms, followed by the outraged shrieks of the girls – Bree didn’t need glasses to figure out what they had been doing.
She knocked on the door, waited for someone to freak out from the inside, and breathed a sigh of relief when no one answered.
Finally!
****
Dylan raised a brow when someone knocked on the door and turned the knob without waiting for him to answer. He had specifically told Andy to keep everyone away while he rested, so what was this? Had another groupie bribed Andy to look the other way?
As the door opened completely, he started to snap at the intruder but found himself shocked instead when a young girl came in and immediately bumped into the shoulder-high shelf to her right.
“Ouch!”
Dylan barely managed to keep himself from laughing.
She turned to the other side and bumped into another shelf. “Oww!”
Dylan slowly and firmly pressed his lips together.
This time she raised her hands mid-air and started groping her way forward, like someone playacting as a ghost.
If she continued without turning, she would bump into him directly, Dylan mused.
Should he step out of her way?
He didn’t even have to think about it.
Not a fucking chance.
This was just too good to pass up.
The girl continued taking baby steps towards his direction. She had a serious look on her tiny heart-shaped face and for some reason, it made her adorably cute in his eyes. Unlike most girls her age, whose fashion sense bordered on either too slutty or too colorful, this one looked very…sweet and fun, with her striped collared blouse and swirly black skirt that fell just an inch above her knees.
She wasn’t the most stunning girl he had seen, but she was certainly the most…interesting.
Bree froze when her hands came into contact with what was definitely not something that was supposed to exist in the ladies’ room.
Was this for real?
She moved her fingers tentatively, wondering if she had perhaps imagined wrong for whatever reason.
Bree whitened when reality reasserted itself.
No. She had not imagined wrong.
This was a guy’s naked chest she was groping like a nympho.
She let out an embarrassed little squeak, backing away in panic, and found herself falling backwards when she tripped on her own feet.
“Whoa.” Dylan caught the girl in time, the movement forcing him to clutch her body close.
She let out another squeak, softer but with greater feeling, like someone close to literally dying with embarrassment.
It made Dylan grin as he slowly helped her back to her feet. “You okay?”
She nodded and frowned at the same time. The voice sounded familiar. Somewhat older, too. Maybe one of the maintenance guys?
“Sorry,” she mumbled. “I can’t see where I’m going. I, umm, forgot my glasses.”
Sure she did, Dylan thought, grin widening.
“So, umm, where’s the ladies’ room?”
“I’ll guide you,” he said as he took her hand without waiting for an answer. It felt soft and small in his own, which was callused because of sports and music combined.
His touch was…hot. The thought made her uncomfortable and even more self-conscious. This was so not her, crushing on an older man and one – since Bree was a student and he was obviously employed by the school – she wasn’t even allowed to like. A lot of girls she knew were attracted to the idea of dating someone forbidden, but Bree had never been that kind of girl.
She heard him open the door for her. “You can go in now,” he told her gently.
“Thanks.”
The girl came out after a few minutes, remarkably fast for someone of her gender. “How did you find the concert?” Dylan asked as he once again took her hand to guide her out. He felt her tremble at his touch and even though she was still a kid in more ways than one, her very obvious reaction to him pleased Dylan immensely.
“It was my first, actually, and it was really great!”
Her face had brightened as she answered, and the sight made him blink a little.
“It was great…even if you didn’t see a thing?” he teased.
Bree choked on her laughter. “I couldn’t see the guy singing,” she confided, “but he had the most beautiful voice.”
“I don’t think so.”
Bree frowned. “He does have a great voice!”
“Nah. I think you’re lying.”
Unthinkingly planting her hands on her hips in an aggressive pose, Bree demanded, “Why do you say that?”
Several moments of silence passed.
Bree started to fidget, feeling like the older guy was just gazing at her and there was something about it that…
She swallowed.
Something was wrong. But not in a bad way.
Did that even make sense?
Bree swallowed again when suddenly the guy cupped her chin and made her look up. “You’re a liar.”
“I’m not.” Oh, drat. Why did her voice sound so husky all of a sudden?
“You are,” he countered calmly, “And I can tell you why.”
“Why?”
“Because if you found his voice beautiful then…”
Her eyes widened.
“You would have known that the guy on stage and me are the same person.”
And for the third time in less than ten minutes, Bree let out one of what would later be known as her infamous squeaks of embarrassment.
Chapter One
Four Years Later
“You didn’t answer your phone, babe,” were the first words she heard when Bree finally managed to extract her phone from her gym bag and answer the call. The ringtone, assigned only to a single name in her contact list, said it all. She was so going to kick herself if she didn’t answer in time.
The words sounded more cool than accusatory, but since this was Dylan Charbonneau they were talking about, Bree knew it was secretly more of the latter.
“Sorry,” she apologized sincerely, a little out of breath as she collapsed on the bench, thoroughly winded after her hour-long run on the treadmill. “I left it in my locker with the rest of my stuff while I was working out.”
Bree’s words over the phone made Dylan want to groan. It called to mind all sorts of erotic images, of the now fabulously shapely Bree in a sports bra and tiny gym shorts, her skin sleek with sweat as he took her from behind.
Somehow, ever since Bree turned eighteen late last year, his desire for her knew no bounds. Dylan dreamt of taking her virginity and fucking her hard almost every night these days, forcing him to take a cold shower way too often for his liking.
It was hell, but he knew a far worse fate awaited him if he tried to act on his needs.
Bree was special. Bree was untouchable. Bree would and should…never be his.
“Be careful that you don’t work out too much,” he cautioned lightly. “I don’t want you turning yourself into a toothpick—”
“Like the supermodels you date?” she asked with acerbic sweetness.
Dylan chuckled, the sound intimate enough to make her shiver. “Don’t be a bitch, babe. You know they’re like that for work.”
“Ha!”
“Besides, I don’t give a damn if that’s what they want. It’s you I care about.”
He said the words so easily, Bree thought grumpily. Why couldn’t she do the same? Why couldn’t she just tell Dylan she loved him? They both knew he was – had always been – aware of her feelings for him anyway.
“Hmph.”
Dylan only chuckled again. “I miss you, you know.”
“Then come visit me so you won’t miss me any longer,” she said, doing her best to sound gruff. Just because the whole world knew she was head over heels in love with him didn’t mean she had to wear her heart
on her sleeve all the time.
“If only I could,” he said, meaning it. He wanted so badly to fly to Florida and just be with her, but that would be suicidal. One look at a grown-up Sabrina Wyle and Dylan knew he would be on her and inside her, and to hell with the consequences.
“Why couldn’t you?” Bree winced at how whiny she sounded.
“Work,” Dylan said evasively, hating the fact that he was now forced to lie to her.
“Oh.”
And that sound of disappointment in Bree’s suddenly quiet voice? He hated that even more, but nothing was worse than knowing he was the reason for it.
Bree’s phone beeped. It was Saffi, reminding her by text message about having dinner in her brother Steel March’s fortress. Since the place was all corners and various shades of black, it couldn’t even pass as a mansion.
“Who is it?” Dylan tried not to sound bothered as he asked the question. His greatest fear was that some guy smarter – nicer – than him would realize what a treasure Bree was, sweep her off her feet, and take her away from him forever.
“It’s just Saffi. I’m having dinner with her and the whole March clan in Steel’s place.”
“I see.” He managed not to let his dislike creep into his voice. Steel March was the kind of guy Bree deserved – someone who had the right family, who didn’t have serious issues like he did – and for that, Dylan knew he would always hate the other man.
When he didn’t say anything else, she asked finally, “Are you just going to stay home tonight?”
“No.”
God, he could be so moody sometimes – the classic rock star syndrome, Bree thought ruefully. Her gaze went back to Saffi’s message. She wished she could be more like Saffi, with the way the older girl had gone after her guy without any hesitations.
Bree’s silence from the other line got to him. “Bree?” He hated it whenever Bree wasn’t chatting to him like a magpie, like she usually did.
She blurted out, “Have you changed your mind about coming to my graduation this weekend?”
