Lie to Me (Rising Star Book 1)

by Lee Piper

  “Yep.”

  “And where is your happy place?” I ask. “Please don’t tell me it’s with a serial womanizer who has a penchant for spray-painting dicks on vans.”

  She blushes.

  “Thought so.”

  Glancing at Reid while pretending to look at Jasper, I murmur, “Sadly, this isn’t a fairy tale. Not everyone gets their happily ever after.”

  Willow follows my gaze. “We’ll see.”

  Hours later, I’m still sober enough to realize Hoptical Illusion is busy. Really busy. More and more people squeeze against the bar, into booths, and onto the dance floor. Surely there’s a maximum occupancy limit for this place? Don’t fire marshals need to sign off on this shit? Had they partaken in too many dark ales and simply drawn a smiley face where the tick box was meant to be?

  “I’m going to the toilet,” I lie.

  Willow waves me away. She’s too busy laughing at something Tobias is saying to notice my freak-out. Probably for the best.

  Ignoring Reid’s impenetrable stare, I slip out of the booth and beeline to the side exit like a footballer stampeding toward an open bar. Not the subtlest departure, but I’m desperate. There are so many bodies standing between me and freedom. I push, shove, and elbow my way through, not caring if boutique pale ales drench pastel Ralph Lauren polos.

  The heavy wooden door slams shut behind me. Spilling into the empty side street, I gulp down mouthfuls of cool, salty air. “Thank God.”

  It takes me a solid ten minutes of fixating on the cobblestones beneath my black heels to calm down. And then another five to stand without wanting to hurl.

  “This is fucked. What kind of woman waits for a man to fix her?” I shake my head. “A pathetic one, that’s who.” My gaze shifts to the street corner. “Well, I’m not pathetic. I’m taking control of this phobia once and for all.” Straightening my shoulders, I step forward.

  “Going somewhere?”

  Spinning on my heel, I yelp, jump, and somehow end up crouched in a ninja pose. Sadly, my Banzai and swooping hand gestures lack intimidation since I fall flat on my ass.

  Fucking fuck.

  “What the hell was that?” Reid asks.

  “That was me about to karate chop the bejesus out of you.” Groaning, I rub my bruised coccyx.

  “Terrifying. Remind me never to sneak up on you again. I might die of laughter.”

  “Shut up.”

  Reid strolls to where I’m sprawled on the cobblestones. “You okay?”

  “No, damn it.”

  He holds out a hand. “Here.”

  His large palm is rough yet warm, and those long fingers encase mine. Aside from our eye-fuck at the photo shoot earlier, I’ve avoided all contact with Reid. Lord knows, whenever he’s nearby, I need a spare change of panties. I don’t exactly carry any in my back pocket, so I figured avoidance was the safest option. However, when I lose myself in his gaze, it’s too late.

  I am sodden, soaked, wet.

  Reid’s pupils dilate. “Are you gonna stand, or should I keep you on your knees?”

  I blink, trying to focus on something else. His hair will do. It’s a wavy mess and I have the sudden urge to run my fingers through it to see if it’s as soft as I remember. Even in the darkness, I register the heat in his eyes. The dim light turns them a striking, silver quartz. My attention shifts to the day-old scruff on his chin. It’s begging me to tug on it. If he dares curl those kisstastic lips into a half-smile, I’m going to keel over and die.

  He grins.

  Die.

  “Come on.”

  “Can’t. Dead.”

  Reid lets go of my hand and clasps me around the waist. Easy as you like, he lifts me to my feet. “Better?”

  “That depends.”

  “On?”

  “Whether you’re going to out me to the others.”

  He smirks. “Well, that depends.”

  Raising an eyebrow, I counter, “On?”

  “Whether you’re gonna come quietly or not.”

  I blink. Before I can so much as squeal orgasm, he drags me after him.

  “Where are we going?” It’s hard to speak on account of him walking so damn fast.

  “You’ll see.”

  “Fuck, I need to do more cardio.”

  Minutes later, we turn a corner and descend narrow cement stairs. I’m immediately brought back to what happened in the cellar of Rising Star. Yanking my hand out of his grasp, I stop.

  Reid turns to face me. Maybe it’s the way I’m shaking my head? Maybe it’s the way I’m glaring at the iron-clad door as though it’s a venereal disease? Or maybe it’s the fact I’m trying to reverse up the stairs without falling over again?

  Either way, he narrows his gaze in warning. “Shiloh.”

  “You do remember what happened last time, right?”

  “I’ve already apologized for that.”

  “No, you haven’t.”

  He grits his teeth. “Yes, I have.”

  “No. You. Haven’t.”

  There’s no way I’m letting him get away with this. Technically speaking, he did play my song on the Djembe. And yes, I may have inferred forgiveness by putting lyrics to it. But right now, I need more than a memory.

  “I want to hear the words.”

  He stalks toward me. Despite him pausing on the step below, I still have to crane my neck to stare into his eyes. Reid grabs a handful of my loose hair, wraps it around his fist, and tugs. “You’re not calling the shots here.”

  “Apologize.”

  The corner of his mouth twitches. So help me, I want to attack his neck with my teeth. “I’ve already apologized, darlin’, and you know it.”

  I tap the side of my head. “My memory isn’t what it used to be, champ. I need a refresher.”

  After swearing under his breath, Reid’s gaze locks with mine. “I’m sorry for how I left things at Rising Star.”

  Pretending not to hear him, I cup my ear. “Sorry? Didn’t quite catch that.”

  Yanking my hair, he leans down and nips my bottom lip. “Don’t test me, woman. You know what I’m capable of.”

  Yes.

  Yes, I do.

  A love so consuming I crushed it the first chance I got. A betrayal so painful I don’t deserve repentance. An ache in my chest where he stole a part of me and refused to give it back.

  My voice is a mere whisper. “I know exactly what you’re capable of.”

  Reid’s expression softens. “I know I warned you against trusting me, but you can trust me on this. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  “Gwendolyn begs to differ.”

  Throwing his head back, he laughs. It’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen. “Can’t believe you’re still calling your pussy Gwendolyn.”

  I shrug one shoulder. “Hey, when you’re onto a good thing…”

  “Yeah.”

  We stare at each other for a long moment. The tension shifts. It’s no longer an easy camaraderie with a hint of sexual frustration thrown in for thrills. Instead, it’s downright morose.

  “Why’d you do it?” His grip on my hair tightens.

  I clamp my eyes shut. “Don’t. Please.”

  “You fucked up.”

  “I know. I know I did.” Opening my eyes, I blink back tears. “And I’ve… I can’t.” Clearing my throat, I avert my gaze. “It’s too late.”

  “Don’t I fuckin’ know it.” He releases my hair and turns away. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

  Sighing, I follow him down the stairs. When we step through the entrance, I blink. “Wow.”

  The room is long and narrow. Dim lights have been placed every few feet on the exposed red brick walls, casting just as much shadow as light. Some low lamps are placed on each corner of the bar and on top of circular tables skirting the edges of the space. A small stage set up alongside the north wall has state-of-the-art equipment, including a mixing desk and lighting rig.

  The name Tempest is carved directly into the expose
d brick wall opposite me. The cursive letters are painted an ash color, similar to many of the accents within the room. The bar is to my left. It, along with the feature wall behind and the door on the right, shares the same ash hue. To be honest, it’s a miracle I can see any of this on account of how effing busy the place is.

  And then it hits me.

  “Oh, shit.” I want to turn fetal. “I can’t do this.”

  People gyrate to the music in one swarming mass. Just as I’m about to sprint for the exit, a familiar riff washes over me.

  My eyes dart to the stage, and I gasp. “How did you know they were playing tonight?”

  Reid leans in close. I try not to shiver as his breath warms my skin, but it’s useless. “I used to work with the bass player.”

  “When?”

  “When I needed to get away for a while.”

  “Oh.” Bile rises in my throat. “That’s right, you moved away after—” There’s no way I can finish the sentence.

  His fingers grasp my chin, forcing my gaze to his. “I moved away after you left me. Say it.”

  My eyes fill with tears. “I can’t.”

  Disgusted, he releases me. We both turn to watch the four-piece in silence. The distance between us grows wider by the second. I want to bridge it. I want the connection we used to share. My mind flits over several scenarios, but nothing is momentous enough. Nothing expresses the gravity of my emptiness or the hurt I caused. Damn it.

  Reid’s expression is carefully schooled. “You ready?”

  “For what?”

  He indicates the mass of people.

  “Fuck no.”

  “Good.” He grabs my hand, leading me onto the dance floor.

  I pull back. “Reid, stop. Are you insane? I can’t go in there.”

  Spinning around to face me, his voice is hard. “Do you want to sing or not?”

  Singing is my life. Thinking back on everything leading up to this moment only confirms it. Being thrown out of our rehearsal studio when band practice went past closing time. Feeling so exhausted at school I fell asleep in math. Sneaking into pubs underage and getting paid jack shit for kickass performances. Being rejected by countless recording studios because our sound was too rock, too grunge, or too heavy. Getting a job in a doughnut shop, for God’s sake, where rainbow fucking sprinkles are showered on me like confetti whenever I reach my sales target.

  I’ve earned this.

  I’ve earned the right to be a goddamn rock star.

  “Yes.” I nod. “I want this.”

  Reid nods. “All right then.”

  He steers me into the heaving throng. I’m so petrified, I don’t know whether to hurl or cry. Some projectile action will grant me breathing space, so that’s looking like the most viable option.

  Glancing around, I notice people are everywhere. We’re surrounded, completely effing surrounded. No matter which direction I turn, there are faces, bodies, a wall of flesh. “Fuck.”

  My mind instinctively casts back to three years ago. The screams, the panic, the crush to get out of the arena. I remember frantically searching for Reid. He was next to me in the mosh pit, but we became separated once the alarm was raised. Someone was in serious trouble. No one knew who, or why, or where, but everyone wanted to get the fuck out. I couldn’t breathe. Not knowing where Reid was or if he was safe was literally killing me.

  “Ouch.” I’m brought back to the present by a sharp bump from a wayward elbow.

  Reid shifts his body, shielding me. “You’re okay. It’s all part of the fun. Don’t stress.”

  “This isn’t fun, not anymore.”

  It’s terrifying. People could get hurt. Reid could get hurt.

  My knees give way.

  “Whoa.” Reid clutches me, pulling me upright. “I’ve got you.”

  I can barely hear his voice over my thundering heartbeat, my heaving breaths, my stifled cries. Tears rain down my cheeks. They drip onto my collarbone and disappear into my cleavage, never to be seen again.

  “Look at me.” Strong hands cup my face. Reid wipes the flurry of tears with his callused thumbs. “You’re safe.”

  A sob escapes.

  “You’re safe, darlin’.”

  “But what about you?” I don’t even realize I’m gripping his shirt until I tug him closer, needing his body against mine. “You’re not safe. Not here, not in this crowd, not with…” I sniff. “Not with me.” Shaking my head, I force the words out, hoping like hell he can hear me over the music. “I don’t want you hurt. I can’t lose you again.”

  “You’re not gonna lose me. I’m here.” He holds me firm. “I’m right here.”

  Struggling against his chest, I try to leave. “Please, we have to get out of here.”

  Reid’s expression is intense, his gaze unwavering. “One song.” He leans in until his forehead rests against my sweaty one. “Stay for one song. After that, we’ll go.”

  Despite my heart doing its best to launch into the stratosphere, his words, his touch, his goddamn smell, centers me. Which is why I voice my gravest fear. “You could die.”

  Pause.

  “You could live.”

  I scowl. “Now’s not the time for metaphorical bullshit, Tate.”

  “Maybe not.” His half smile is my undoing. “It would make one hell of a song, don’t you think?”

  Groaning, I tug his shirt as the first wave of panic slowly subsides. In its place, however, is need. Rampant need. All that adrenaline has to burn itself off somehow. “You suck. You know that, right?”

  He nods, his eyes transforming from silver to dark gray. “That I do.” Reid leans forward, his voice low in my ear. “I also lick, taste, bite.”

  My hold on his shirt tightens.

  “Stay with me. I’ll make you feel good.”

  My knuckles are white.

  “What do you say?”

  Swallowing, I clear my throat several times. “I say, you’re using sex as a distraction again.”

  “Is it working?”

  Shifting from one foot to the other, I smirk. “Nope.”

  Reid dips his head and kisses me. It’s so deep, my knees consider giving him a slow clap. Minutes later, he sucks on my swollen bottom lip before breaking away. His voice is husky. “You’re a shitty liar.”

  The music stops and the crowd shows their appreciation in true rocker form. Whistles, hollers, even cuss words I’ve never heard before are directed toward the stage. It’s a cacophony of sound I wouldn’t trade for the world.

  The lead singer murmurs into the mic, explaining the context for the next song.

  As soon as the name is uttered, I throw my head back. “My favorite song!”

  A slow riff forms, intricate and layered. The rhythm guitar kicks in with a dirty melody, followed by the crash of heavy drums. People move, relishing the web of notes swirling through the speakers. It’s not a fast song, hell no. It’s deliberate, provocative, seductive. It mirrors the man pressed against me.

  Reid scans my face. Even though I’m nowhere near comfortable, my grip on his shirt loosens. His fingers cover mine, unclasping my hands from the mangled material before flattening them against his solid chest. I gasp. Sliding them up his body, he links my hands behind his neck, anchoring me there. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

  The beat is loud, the guitar riffs complex, the vocals insane. Beside me, bodies shift and move to the hypnotic rhythm. I barely notice. Reid and I exist in a world of our own making.

  He slides his hands up my arms. Goose bumps break out on my skin, followed by some hazardous shallow breathing. Reid’s gaze never strays from mine as those callused fingers skim the sides of my breasts. I moan.

  Leaning in close, his lips caress my ear. “Stay in the moment. Focus on me and the music, nothing else.”

  I nod.

  It’s not easy. It’s not like I flick a switch and my fear miraculously disappears. It’s still hovering at what the fuck are you doing? Levels. However, so too is my desire to stay
exactly where I am. With Reid.

  His touch trails over my ribs and along the curve of my hips before splaying across my ass. Reid inserts his knee between my legs, and I’m suddenly thrust forward.

  Holy smokes.

  He moves in time with the music. His rhythm, of course, is impeccable, but what I really appreciate is the way he grinds me against his thigh.

  Fuck me dead.

  With his hands cupping my ass, I stare into his eyes, moving in time with the heavy beat. The friction between my jeans and his all but sends me crashing over the edge right there on the dance floor.

  This.

  This. Man.

  Why did I ever let him go?

  Refusing to lament a past I cannot change, I stay present. Heaven knows I’ll have it on repeat for eternity.

  He pulls me closer.

  My eyelids flutter shut.

  He bites out a curse.

  My head lolls back.

  He licks the length of my neck.

  My fingers tangle in his hair.

  His mouth crashes into mine.

  Heaven.

  I have no idea how much time passes. I don’t know if the music stops, if people stare, or if an encore begins. I don’t know if stars explode, meteors collide, or planets combust. All I know is this is where I’m meant to be.

  Reid’s lips graze mine. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Dazed, I blink. “What? Now?”

  He grins, and my legs are officially useless. If his strong arms weren’t holding me up by the ass, I’d be Frenching the floor.

  Slowly, the sensual fog lifts. Once again, I register the people surrounding us, the heavy music, the rhythmic beat echoing through my chest. My heart rate triples as tendrils of panic spread through my belly.

  “Yep, good call. Let’s go. Now.” Grabbing Reid’s hand, I push out of the mosh, my gaze locked on the exit.

  “Hold up.” I’m spun around. Long fingers clasp my belt hooks, and I’m pulled toward the sexiest man in existence. Reid skims the backs of his knuckles down my cheek. “Are you thirsty? Do you want some water first?”

  “No.”

  He smirks. “Someone’s impatient.”

  “Someone owes me an orgasm.”

  Reid lowers his head until his mouth hovers above mine. “I’ll take care of you, darlin’. No need to worry about that.” He nips my lower lip before licking away the sting.