by Lee Piper
EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®
www.evernightpublishing.com
Copyright© 2017 Lee Piper
ISBN: 978-1-77339-140-3
Cover Artist: Jay Aheer
Editor: Stephanie Balistreri
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to my babies, all of them. Wherever you are, you’re my world.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Rock My World could not have been possible without the support of the best husband a girl could ask for. Thank you for always turning the TV off when I wanted to read you the next section, for putting up with my non-stop dinner table chatter about fictional characters, and for living out your wedding vows every single day. I love you for it.
Thank you to my beautiful baby girls. You two are the reason why I get out of bed in the morning and have a smile on my face when I shut my eyes at night—regardless of how little sleep I get. I can only hope that your life ahead is full of the joy which unbridled imagination and creativity brings.
Chantal, I am forever grateful you always answered your phone, offered super helpful feedback and continuously reminded me to believe in myself. Mum, thank you for reading every word, for not washing my mouth out with soap and for still being able to look me in the eye afterwards.
A huge shout out to Cass and Tarina, your support, advice and (at times) inspiration was instrumental in the creation of this book—you girls rock. Rosie, arguably the hardest wording SSO in the southern hemisphere, you somehow managed to squeeze in time to read my manuscript so thank you, over and over again.
To Stephanie, my awesome editor. You taught me about the power of a well-positioned comma rather than semicolon and answered my myriad of questions with humor and grace. Apologies for the hundreds upon hundreds of ‘ly’ words, I’ll try to cut down in future
In the months it took me to write this novel, not a day went by when I didn’t blast Cog’s kickass album, The New Normal. I have no doubt you boys would be shocked to hear it inspired a contemporary romance, but I can’t thank you enough because whenever I listened to your music, I imagined it was Mondez playing.
There is no way in hell I’m going to forget about you, dear reader. Without your support, this would still be a pipe dream. If I was the hugging type, I would draw in each and every one of you for the biggest bear-hug in the history of the universe. Sadly, I’m not. But I hope the following words will suffice:
Together, we have created something beautiful. Thank you.
ROCK MY WORLD
A Mondez Novel, 1
Lee Piper
Copyright © 2017
Chapter One
Her new music was broken, loud and stern.
She was a shadow, both dark and light,
But she didn’t give a fuck either way.
-MONDEZ, “Backbone"
I didn’t want to be here.
Seriously.
I mean, if I made it through the night without catching an STD from standing in this godforsaken shit hole, it would be a miracle.
“Just come out for a couple of drinks,” my best friend and housemate, Riley, had said. “It’s Mondez’s last live show for months. You’ll have the time of your life, I promise,” she’d declared. “I’ll even introduce you to some of the guys in the band. Levi and Dominic are awesome, you’ll love them.”
I’d grimaced, but she chose to ignore me.
“C’mon, Grace, I’m sick of your excuses,” she continued. “You never leave the house on weekends anymore. Living off a diet of whiskey, spite and Conan Doyle novels isn’t healthy. We have to go.”
So I gave in to her, just like always.
But, like everything else I’d tried since Dad’s death, soon wished I hadn’t.
“Hey, Dad.” I stared down at the glossy gray slab of marble. A month had done little to dull the polished finish despite it being the middle of winter and drizzly as fuck.
Shivering, I wrapped my jacket tighter around my small frame, cursing the woolen beanie pulled low over my ears, which would no doubt start reeking of cat piss soon enough. Wool and water—what a crap combination. I shook my head.
“I brought you something.” Holding the whiskey bottle high, I blatantly ignored the questioning glances of mourners walking past. “Knew you’d hate flowers so…” My voice trailed away. I miraculously unscrewed the bottle top despite numb fingers and poured a healthy amount over the young blades of grass already making their way through the sodden soil. To be honest, I half-wished the alcohol would burn them to a crisp before my eyes. Bastards. Didn’t they know life had officially stopped four weeks ago? I sure as hell did.
After taking a healthy swallow, I put the whiskey lid back on and placed the bottle at my feet. Then, stepping forward, I brushed away a stray leaf from the top of the headstone, my fingers lingering on the cold surface.
“It’s all gone to shit, Dad,” I murmured. “Everything. Dylan’s gone.” I gave a wry smile. “Bet you’re not surprised. You never did like him, did you?”
Silence.
“Yeah, well. Turns out, I’ve got rubbish taste in men.” Taking a deep breath, I blurted, “Mum won’t answer my calls.” I paused. “Probably because I called her a selfish whore when she said she wouldn’t come to the funeral.”
Silence.
“No great loss, I suppose. God knows she was a terrible mother to us growing up, so why the heck would she be any different fifteen years later?” Gritting my teeth, I continued. “And don’t even get me started on that sister of mine. Even I didn’t think she was capable of—”
I stopped. After clenching my hands into tight fists, it took several minutes of reciting every expletive known to mankind—in three languages—to finally relax them again.
When I finally had my emotions back under control, I tenderly traced the gold lettering of my father’s name. “I need you, Dad.” To my utter horror, my voice broke. I scrunched my eyes tightly closed demanding the tears to stop, the pain to stop, everything to just fucking stop. I was over it.
They didn’t.
“I need you here, with me. Nothing makes sense anymore and I just … I can’t … I hate it, Dad. Hate everything.” Tears clouded my vision and streamed unchecked down my cheeks. “I’m angry all the time and I don’t even know why. It’s like I’m broken or something. I feel completely fucking broken.”
Silence.
“Dad?”
Nothing.
“Daddy?”
Silence.
Hanging my head, I wept.
Since then, I’d developed this slight problem. It essentially stopped me from going out, socializing, and meeting new people. Hell, it basically prevented me from acting like a well-adjusted member of Australian society. I called it Smart Mouth. Those on the receiving end of it, however, called it much, much worse. Let’s just say, my head to mouth filter was defective. It always got me into trouble.
And I wanted a refund.
I wasn’t always like this. I used to be nice, naïve, gullible. Whatever. I used to laugh until my belly ached and tears rolled down my cheeks. I would smile at strangers and hug those I cared about. I even loved with an open and trusting heart. But not anymore. Oh no, Dylan put a stop to that when he left me for she-who-must-not-be-named just after my father’s death, one year ago. His timing was impeccable.
And the betrayal hurt so much that I kinda shut down after that. Emotionally, I mean. It was just easier that way. Well, except when I was with Riley, of course. She was definitely an exception. Needless to say, everyone else I came into contact with considered me a … bitch. Let’s be honest, there was really no other word to describe me.
When we first stepped inside the music venue—aptly named The Hole—I had to stop and allow my eyes to adjust to the darkness. I tried not to make a face at the combined smells of sweat, beer, and vomit, but failed miserably. Despite this, the heavy guitar riffs blasting through the speakers washed over me. They reverberated through my chest and down through my body. It wasn’t unpleasant. But I made damn sure not to show this realization to Riley or I’d never hear the end of it. And I’d never have a Friday night to myself ever again.
To my far left, a mass of heaving and sweaty bodies, mostly males, swarmed the tiny raised stage where the lead vocalist of a rock band took up the mic and started belting out a song about love. Or was it treachery? It was hard to tell the difference when it sounded like he’d just had a fingernail removed with pliers. I shook my head, suddenly angry. Strands of raven black hair fell chaotically about my face from the impulsive movement.
What was I doing here? Why did I always let Riley talk me into things like this? I was going to sit on the couch at home in my pajamas and drink a really full glass of the best whiskey my teacher’s wage could afford, or two, while reading A Study in Scarlet for God’s sake. I hadn’t read it in ages.
Riley noticed the irritation on my face and stopped for a moment, carefully considering me. She seemed to be weighing something important because her perfectly sculptured eyebrows drew together in deep concentration. It was probably relating to the likelihood of me inflicting bodily harm on someone in my current mood. Her face cleared, seeming confident in her decision. “You need a drink.”
There was no way on God’s green earth I was going to argue with that logic. So we pushed our way through the throng of people and managed to reach the bar relatively unscathed.
“Riley, you made it.” A petite dark-haired bombshell working behind the bar beamed up at us when she recognized my friend. She reminded me of a pin-up girl from the forties, with vintage black eyeliner, porcelain skin and bright red lipstick.
“Wouldn’t miss this one for the world, Brea.” Riley smiled mischievously and gave her a quick wink.
I shook my head at Riley, bemused. “Now, I know this is all a ruse. You dragged me out tonight because you’re interested in a guy.”
“He’s not just some guy,” Riley gushed.
Oh God. I took a step back in bewilderment. She had it bad. Once I recovered my equilibrium, I replied sarcastically, “Really? How is this one any different to all the rest, Riley? Does he have a chocolate flavored dick or something?”
“He’s amazing, G,” Riley responded, completely ignoring my wit. “He’s talented and funny and clever and—”
“Sexy as hell, or so I’ve been told.”
I spun around at the sound of a deep voice chuckling behind me and was greeted with a wall of muscle. I mean, the gray t-shirt barely contained the bulging broad chest. In all the right places.
I gulped.
My eyes instinctively traveled upwards. In front of me were wide shoulders, which looked like they could hold the weight of the world without breaking a sweat. There was a strong neck with a large, detailed hawk or some other bird of prey tattooed all over it. I could spy a chiseled jaw with sand colored stubble peeking through, straight white teeth peering out from behind a lopsided grin, and quite possibly the most kissable lips I’d ever seen.
Sweet God.
I inhaled sharply, immediately disturbed by my reaction.
My eyes, intent on making a fool out of me, continued upwards. Next was an aquiline nose and penetrating sky blue eyes that were openly laughing at what must have been my stellar impersonation of a stunned mullet. I didn’t even get around to ogling his hair (short, light brown and tousled) because my intellect packed her bags and left the building. Clearly, I had no more need for her when this man was in my general vicinity because I literally lost the power of speech. There were no words.
Nope, none.
And I hated myself for it.
I’d never been one of those girls who fell apart at the sight of an attractive guy and I wasn’t about to start now. Get a freakin’ grip, woman.
“Like what you see?” The beautiful stranger lowered his voice so only I could hear it.
Thankfully, his arrogance helped kick start my Smart Mouth. “I’ve seen better.”
Lie.
“No, you haven’t.”
Damn it.
He grinned.
“Levi,” Riley shrieked, before rushing forward and throwing her arms around his neck. Her five-foot-nine frame seemed dwarfed in his embrace and I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be wrapped in those arms myself. Naked.
Once Riley disentangled herself and I shamefully recovered from my wayward thoughts, I muttered to her under my breath, “Why don’t you just shove your tongue down his throat and get it over with?”
Riley turned, confused, and then stuck her tongue out at me instead.
Levi raised an eyebrow in surprise, his eyes darting between our muted exchange.
“Levi, this is Grace. Grace, Levi.”
“Drink.” I spun on my heel and leaned on the bar, desperately trying to make eye contact with the forties pin-up girl.
“Two beers and a whiskey. Thanks, Brea.”
I jumped at Levi’s unexpected voice, turned, and then scowled up at him.
“Who says I like beer?”
He lazily looked me up and down. I’m embarrassed to say my body loved every second of it. From my small tingling feet encased in black flats and possibly standing in the contents of someone’s stomach, to the tips of my chaotic hair, no doubt unruly from the heat generated by too many pressing bodies in this confined space—yeah, every part of me relished his gaze drinking me in. Damn it.
“Who says it’s for you?” he countered, smirking at my flushed face.
“Jerk,” I muttered, turning my back on his mocking gaze and conveniently becoming enthralled in the vocalist’s rendition of a deflating bagpipe.
Brea appeared as though from nowhere. She expertly flicked the bottle tops off two beers, poured a healthy amount of whiskey into a short glass with ice, plonked them all on the bar, winked at Levi and said, “Here you are, hon, they’re on the house,” before moving to the far side of the bar to serve someone else.
Growling, I gave up on the drink idea and returned to Riley who had moved to a booth in a darkened alcove. She raised her eyebrows, questioningly.
“Don’t even start.” Grumpily, I slipped across the cracked leather seat, empty-handed. I even slammed my clutch down on the oaken table for dramatic effect. God, I hated how I reacted to Levi. I mean, I’d only just met the guy minutes before, and yes, he was ridiculously attractive. Absurdly so. But it was clear he was the man Riley was interested in and he was already grating on my very sober nerves.
“Here you are, ladies.” Levi barely contained a laugh while handing a bottle of beer to Riley, who simpered before taking it. I rolled my eyes in exasperation at her antics. Seriously, could the woman be any more obvious? He then turned, and with a mischievous glint in his eyes, offered me the glass of whiskey. “Here kitten, you look like you need something stronger.”
What did he just call me? But more importantly, how did he know I loved whiskey? Did I have ‘Give me the strong stuff’ tattooed on my forehead or something? I gritted my teeth, annoyed at his accurate impertinence and his stupid, gorgeous smile, before snatching the glass from his outstretched hand.
And that’s when it happened.
Our fingers accidentally touched. I kid you not, it was as if a thousand volt charge of electricity shot from the tips of his fingers, through my hand and up my arm. I froze. My eyes instinctively widened, m
y mouth popped open, and I stared at him in shock.
What. The. Fuck. Was. That?
Levi’s gaze faltered briefly. A slight frown crossed his face before he smoothed his features, and sat next to Riley. “So, are you looking forward to seeing Mondez play?”
I honestly had no idea what her reply was. Instead, I sat dazed, staring down at my left hand after shakily unclasping it from the frosted glass and forcing it into my lap. Strange, I mused, slowly turning it over and discretely inspecting it like it was up for forensic testing. It still looked the same. My pale fingers and short, unpolished nails stared back at me, refusing to give an answer to my mother of all questions.
“Isn’t that right, Grace?” Riley turned to me, her clear eyes expectant.
Shit.
I quickly tried to mask my confusion by noncommittally murmuring, “Mmm hmm.”
“So you’re looking forward to seeing Mondez too then, huh?” Levi’s blue eyes taunted my clear lack of understanding.
Get it together, girl, I internally scolded myself. So you touched fingers and felt something. Big freakin’ deal. He probably feels that shit every day. I mean look at him, he’s a walking Men’s Health model for God’s sake.
In a bid to recover what self-possession I had left, I decided on a forthright response to his question. To be fair it wasn’t a far stretch for me. But if it meant I could wipe that smirk off his face, the one I was so not interested in kissing senseless despite what my racing heartbeat had to say, then so be it.
“No,” I replied, glaring back at him.
Riley nudged me under the table with her knee but I ignored her.
“Have you heard any of their music?” he asked, his eyes now alight with laughter.
Snicker at me will you? Asshole.
