TORN_A Rockstar Romance

by Vivian Lux

  Torn

  A Rockstar Romance

  Vivian Lux

  C opyright © 2017 by Vivian Lux

  All rights reserved .

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review .

  Created with Vellum

  T o my patient readers. Thank you for enduring the longer than expected wait for Hudson’s story. I hope you love it .

  How can anybody have you ?

  How can anybody have you and lose you ?

  How can anybody have you and lose you

  And not lose their minds, too ?

  -St. Vincent, ‘Los Ageless ’

  Contents

  1. Tallula

  2. Hudson

  3. Tallula

  4. Hudson

  5. Tallula

  6. Hudson

  7. Tallula

  8. Tallula

  9. Hudson

  10. Tallula

  11. Hudson

  12. Tallula

  13. Hudson

  14. Tallula

  15. Hudson

  16. Tallula

  17. Hudson

  18. Tallula

  19. Hudson

  20. Tallula

  21. Hudson

  22. Tallula

  23. Hudson

  24. Tallula

  25. Hudson

  26. Tallula

  27. Tallula

  28. Hudson

  29. Tallula

  30. Hudson

  31. Tallula

  32. Hudson

  33. Tallula

  34. Hudson

  35. Hudson

  36. Tallula

  37. Hudson

  38. Tallula

  39. Hudson

  40. Tallula

  Epilogue

  Also by Vivian Lux

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Tallula

  M y mother's faint voice wafted out from one of the back rooms. "Is that the delivery men?" I heard her call .

  I hadn't heard anything, but that wasn't surprising. I turned over the pencil I'd been doodling with and tried to erase the marks I'd made on one of the place-cards. "I didn't hear anything," I called back to her .

  The tent delivery was late. Of course. They'd probably gotten lost on one of the twisting country roads that wound through the small village of Briscombe before heading up the low, sloping hill to the Hall. None of the routes to our place were direct. They all twisted and turned around on themselves, meandering and doubling back on the way up to our estate like they were too shy to face it head on. You could usually hear vehicles coming from very far off, which meant no one could ever really drop in and surprise us. But I'd heard nothing right now .

  "Could you check, please?" my mother called from a different point in the house than she'd been a minute ago .

  I grinned. She was anxious. Hearing things. "Checking!" I replied, humoring her. I stood up straighter and tried to fix the waistband of my jeans. My fat jeans, if truth be told, and even those were starting to get too tight. I tugged unsuccessfully, then opened the door and stepped out of the main house and into the sunshine .

  Then I stood there squinting in the light like some kind of hairless creature that usually dwelt underground .

  The sun blazed down on a world so colorful it seared my eyeballs. The green of the grass and the blue of the sky had both taken on a vibrancy that reminded me of upping the saturation levels on a photo. The landscape looked surreal. Like a dream .

  And it was hot. So hot. Holy fucksticks, was it hot. In the two steps it took me to cross the sweeping front porch and peer out onto the lane that wound below the main house, I had broken out into a prickly sweat all over my body. There was no sign of a delivery van, or any signs of life, really. Just an endlessly blue, unreal sky that reminded me of Hudson Grant's eyes .

  Fuck. I was thinking about him again .

  Blinking, I wiped my forehead and then stepped back in to the great room and shut the door against the heat .

  But it was no cooler indoors, I realized. Briscombe Hall was on a list of historic places and the historical society frowned on tearing out priceless, culturally relevant woodwork to slap in the proper ductwork required for air conditioning .

  It honestly wasn't like we needed it. Not usually, anyways. England's summers tended to be short and cool. But not today of course. "Bloody Christ," I sighed, wiping my forehead again. I was sweating like a longshoreman on holiday .

  "Tallula," my mother gently admonished as she swept into the room. Her arms were laden down with old boxes. "Language ."

  It wasn't usually my habit to apologize for swearing... or really anything, when it came down to it. But this was my mum. "Sorry," I mumbled automatically as I came over to inspect her latest finds. "Bad habit from uni ."

  "Right, well." She set down the stack of family pictures she had dredged up from some dark corner of the house. Then she leaned back up again, mopping delicately at her face with her handkerchief. "I disagree with the language used, but not the sentiment expressed. It truly is far too hot ."

  "They're saying tomorrow should be the hottest June day on record." I shook my head. I felt like I was wilting. "The British are not cut out for this." Then I glanced outside the windows towards the back gardens and brightened a little. "However," I went on. "It is days like this that having a pool comes in handy, wouldn't you say ?"

  My mother had been leafing through the old photos, trying to locate ones of my brother to display at the wedding, but at that, she looked back up again and raised an eyebrow at me. "Did I hear a request in there ?"

  I grinned. "Right. Well, you may disagree, but we've been working like dogs all day long on this project of yours. And frankly, Mother? I'm not entirely certain that Niall is going to appreciate you dragging out all of the pictures of him all spotty with bowl cut. He may not have informed his bride about what a hopeless little twat he was back in the day ."

  "Language," Mum repeated tiredly, even though a smile was tugging that the corner of her mouth. She glanced down at one of the recovered photos and broke out in laughter. "Oh my word, look at this. Do you remember when he wore that bathrobe everywhere because he thought he looked Japanese ?"

  I giggled and leaned over her shoulder. In it, my older brother - probably aged twelve if the state of his orthodontia was any indication - was striking a pose with his guitar. "Always with that Billy Idol impression," I laughed. "I tried to warn him it made him look like a bee stung him in the mouth, but he didn't listen to me." I shook my head. "Then again, he still doesn't listen to me." I looked more closely, trying to pinpoint the event this photo had captured. Christmas? Birthday ?

  "He doesn't listen to anyone except Reese these days," Mum sighed. "Good thing she has a level head on her shoulders. I trust her more than I trust my own son, to be honest ."

  "You always were a wise woman," I deadpanned, inspecting the picture closely. In the space behind the posing Niall, I caught a glimpse of a pink slipper I thought I recognized from way back. "Is that me back there with the terrible face?" I squinted to see my six year old self frowning ferociously back at me. "Was I hiding from the camera ?"

  My mother squinted. "Probably. My word, what a face!" She reached up and tucked my chin length hair behind my ear. "You were never shy about letting us know
your feelings about your brother's antics. Come to think of it, you've never really been shy about letting us know your feelings on much of anything," she added .

  "I know, I know, I wear my heart on my sleeve." This was not news to me .

  Mum gave me an affectionately beleaguered smile and moved to slide her hand around my waist. Automatically I shied away from her, not willing to let her feel how much weight I'd gained while away at uni. "You wear your heart in a tatty old purse you're always leaving around for questionable people to rummage around in," she corrected .

  "Untrue. I have not left my heart with anyone," I protested. "There's no one out there who could properly handle it anyway." I blinked and then grinned at her. "And besides, you're changing the subject away from me weaseling out of this project ."

  She laughed as I quickly made my case. "Right, so, I've pulled out all the photos I could find and set them over there." I gestured to the table. "That was all I could find in the upper floors." I narrowed my eyes at her. "You're not actually planning on making poor Reese look through them all, are you? Please promise me no. She might well call the wedding off and run screaming from the country ."

  "I just thought she'd want to see pictures of Niall growing up," my mother sighed wistfully... then grinned back. "Oh my heavens, I sound like such a Mum, don't I ?"

  "You are such a Mum," I agreed, leaning down to kiss her soft cheek. "And the question you heard implied in my voice just now was, 'mind if I beg off of photo excavation duty and go for a dip in the pool ?'"

  My mother sighed. "Of course not. But remember, Niall and the lads are arriving later this afternoon ."

  I nodded and looked away. "I'll be done before then," I promised her. And myself .

  The idea of being caught in the pool when my brother arrived with Ewan and Jules in tow was bad enough. If they saw me in my bathing suit, I'd never hear the end of it .

  But if Hudson saw me? With my newly squishy body spilling out of my swimsuit like over-risen dough in a loaf pan? With my fine hair plastered all over my face and makeup streaking down my cheeks ?

  Absolutely not. I was pretty sure he already thought I was a disaster. No need to confirm it for him .

  I glanced outside again and glared at the brilliantly blue sky. Most days it was gray and drizzling, the color of nothingness. Why today, of all days, did it have to be different ?

  How dare it have the nerve to be the exact color blue of his eyes today, the day I'd be seeing him for the first time in a year? A year, almost to the day, since we'd made the mistake of stealing a quick, ill-advised kiss that no one - not my brother, not the band, not even my best friends - could ever know about .

  Chapter Two

  Hudson

  "Y ou look like you're going to throw up," Reese said .

  I glanced up from my book and was relieved to see that she hadn't been talking to me. She was sitting on Niall's lap as the rented limo swept the five of us through the pretty English countryside towards Niall's family estate. She patted the back of his neck with her hand. "You're not having second thoughts now, are you ?"

  My bandmate darted his head forward and gave her a quick kiss. "Never," he murmured, but from where I was sitting, he definitely looked a little green. Though I was certain it wasn't second thoughts about marrying Reese that had him looking that way. The two of them were rock solid and clearly deeply in love. No, if I were a betting man, I'd guess his pale face and wide, staring eyes had nothing to do with who he was marrying and everything to do with who was attending the wedding .

  "He's just worrying about what's going to happen when us lot descend on his fancy wedding," Jules piped up, echoing my private thoughts perfectly. Our drummer tapped out a quick staccato beat on his thighs as he grinned evilly at Niall. "All those posh aunts and uncles are going to clutch their pearls and drop their monocles in their brandy snifters when they see the ruffians in your wedding party." He brushed a tatted up hand through his shock of unruly black curls and looked quite pleased with the thought of scandalizing our bassist's relatives .

  "None of my uncles wear monocles," Niall sighed and I grinned. The class distinction between how Jules and our guitarist Ewan had grown up versus the way Niall had grown up was a never ending source of hilarity for the band .

  But I was seeing it all for the first time. The short walk from our plane to the limo was my first steps on English soil. I was American, through and through - born in Dallas, raised out side of New York City - and the intricacies of the English class system confused me .

  I sat outside of this conversation, as I did most conversations with my bandmates. To paraphrase my fellow countryman and one of my favorite authors, Mark Twain, it's better to keep your mouth shut and have people think you're a dumbass than open your mouth and confirm it for them .

  "It's going to be fine," Reese said smoothly. Niall's fiancée was American too, and was approaching this whole wedding situation with her usual practicality. "I'm sure your mom has everything under control ."

  "Mum Penrose won't let this week be anything but perfect," Ewan said with a reassuring grin .

  "Maybe that's why I look like I'm going to spew," Niall groaned. He rubbed Reese's back. "She thinks you're far too laid back about this whole marrying me thing, you know ."

  Reese laughed and spread her hands. "What am I going to get all Bridezilla about? Your mother hasn't given me the option of freaking out about floral arrangements because she's already taken care of everything." She snuggled up against Niall. "I just want to hurry up with the wedding so we can get on with being married." He smiled a private sort of smile and lowered his lips into her dark hair .

  The sweet moment was cut short by Ewan's evil laughter. "Oh fuck, I just thought of something!" our guitarist crowed. "I wonder what Tally's got up her sleeve for this week ?"

  I jerked my head up from my book at the mention of Niall's younger sister, but once again no one noticed. Niall was glaring at Ewan. "Tally's not twelve anymore, mate. I highly doubt she's going to be pulling any sort of pranks ."

  "I'll kill her myself," Reese deadpanned. "And if I don't get to her, your mother will ."

  "Tally's too smart to do anything that'd get her caught," Jules mused. "I bet it'll be something like itching powder in your suitcase for the honeymoon ."

  "We don't get a honeymoon," Reese pouted. "Did you forget ?"

  "We will as soon as the tour's over, darling. I promise." Niall ran his fingers through her hair .

  I cleared my throat and everyone snapped their heads to the back of the limo like they'd forgotten I was there. Which they may well have. "So Tally's home from school?" I heard myself say. I was aghast at myself for even mentioning her to Niall, especially after he'd warned me off a few months back. And he was right. Yeah, I'd had a little thing for pretty Tallula Penrose, but I wasn't about to screw things up with my friend by pursuing his little sister. I knew how lucky I was to be plucked out of obscurity to front one of the biggest bands in rock. I wasn't about to screw that up .

  Niall nodded at my question. "She has off for the week, then heads back for some kind of summer session. An intensive drawing class or something. I wasn't really paying attention when she was explaining it to me," he confessed .

  "You're a shite brother," Jules observed drily .

  "Oooh, fighting words!" Ewan crowed as Niall turned red .

  Reese half-heartedly tried to hold him back, laughing as he reached out to smack Jules around the ears. "Cheeky fucker," he grunted as he landed a blow on the back of the drummer's head .

  I leaned back again. A week. A week spent in the same house as Tallula
Penrose without putting my hands all over her body. A week without letting on that I still thought every day about that stolen kiss we'd shared back when she was visiting Niall in the States. A week without causing any waves or upsetting Niall before his big day .

  "That's it, right?" Reese was pointing out the window. "I can't remember if we came from this direction last time we were here ."

  Niall nodded. "Welcome back to Briscombe Hall," he said, and there was no mistaking the touch of pride, and the little bit of wistfulness in his voice .

  I leaned over to watch as we wound along a packed gravel drive. A low hill swept up to a giant heap of stone, stately columns and red bricks. I let out a low whistle. "Nice place," I said to Niall. "You really grew up here ?"

  "My parents actually bought it when I was a lad," he explained. "It was falling down back then. I have very clear memories of the family of bats that nested in the rafters over my crib ."

  Jules shuddered. "I bloody hate bats," he muttered to no one in particular .

  But I wasn't really paying attention. I was watching as we drew closer and closer to Briscombe Hall, closer and closer to being trapped for a week with my biggest temptation. I glanced at Niall and saw that he was watching me, his expression mild but penetrating. As if he knew the struggle going on under my careful composure .