“A couple of times,” she says, her white sneaker tapping along with the rhythm of the song. The way she moves, I can tell she's a serious fan of her band's music, that she's not their manager just because it pays well or because she had a crush on Pax; she really does like their sound. “But always for business. I'm not sure that I've ever actually been allowed to have fun in another country.”
I laugh and lean forward, putting a hand on her arm.
“You should come out with us sometime. I hear Tokyo's a blast.”
Octavia flushes a little, flashing me a little more of that uncertain side of herself, the one she tries to keep hidden with a professional facade. Maybe it'll actually be fun, getting to know her? I could use a girlfriend. I seriously don't have a single one. Most of my high school friends dispersed after graduation—me right along with them them. And the women I befriended in Phoenix basically abandoned me when I broke up with Kevin, choosing to stay his friend instead of mine. I wonder what lies he must've told them about me?
“I'd like that,” she says finally, and we smile at each other, pausing as one song ends and another starts up almost right away, the clatter of the drums making my heart pump faster, my body tighten up—as if I need more sex at this moment in time.
But I guess my boys can't help it if everything they play is either laced in sex … or heartache.
There doesn't seem to be much in between.
I grab a bottle of water from one of the refreshment tables and sneak back to the curtain to watch, waiting for that blissful moment when the guys say goodbye to the crowd and come back to me. No matter how many times it happens, I get that wild flutter of excitement in my belly, the flicker of butterfly wings beating in time with my heart.
Tonight, it's extra exciting because I know what we're doing and where we're headed.
The world.
And then home.
It doesn't matter if I've never been to Seattle. If my boys are there, it'll feel like home. I know that because each and every city we've visited since I started getting to know them, it's felt like home.
When the last note of the night is played, and the crowd bids Beauty in Lies farewell with a raucous chorus of cheering, I bite my lip and wait on my tiptoes for them to shed their instruments and head across the brightly lit stage into the shadows.
I lift my arms out and Muse grabs me around the waist, spinning me and dropping me back to my feet for a kiss as vibrant and silken as the petals on a red, red rose.
“I'm scared of planes,” he whispers in my ear and I chuckle. “Will you hold my hand when we take off?”
“I will,” I promise as he lets go of me and I greet the other guys, tucking my hands in their sweaty ones, letting Cope and Ran lead me down the steps and out the back door. There's already a van waiting for us, like an airport shuttle but blacker, sleeker, definitely a lot more swag.
“I can't believe we don't even get a break to shower,” Michael says, mopping at his forehead with a bandana and leaning back into the leather seat. Outside, it's finally stopped raining, the night quiet and still, at complete odds with the excited beating of my heart.
“There's a shower on the plane,” Cope says and Michael lifts his head, giving his friend a skeptical look.
“You're shitting me.”
“The label chartered us a Lineage 1000E,” he says and Michael shrugs.
“That doesn't mean a damn thing to me. I take it it's fancy?”
“Oh, it's fancy,” Cope says, his smile almost wicked. It's a different look for him, that's for sure.
Paxton says nothing, his gaze focused out the window, his expression telling me he's clearly lost in thought. My only guess is that it has something to do with his parents. His phone's been ringing off the hook today, and his mood's been decidedly sour.
“Do you think there'll be room to draw on it?” I ask, my mind drifting to the cramped quarters of economy seating. You'd think with how wealthy Kevin's father is that he'd have sprung for first class when he flew me down to Phoenix to visit the first time. But no, he bought the cheapest seats available, ones that didn't even allow a carry-on. I had to upgrade at the counter with my own money just to take my suitcase.
“Room to draw, dance, do a fucking cartwheel,” Pax says, suddenly rejoining the conversation to look back at us. “There's even a room with a queen size bed in it.”
“Bullshit,” I say, flushing from head to toe.
“There is. Trust me, I've been on a Lineage before. It's like a flying hotel suite. My foppish parents won't fly in anything less posh.”
Paxton parks his head on his hand and looks at the rest of us with raised blonde brows.
“Well, you bloody asked,” he says with a slight shrug, but there's something about the set of his shoulders that says there's a lot he's not saying. I decide to let it go for now, too excited by the idea of the trip to worry about it at the moment.
When we get to the airstrip, the plane takes us straight over to the open door of the jet. No security checkpoints, no TSA, no lines. I wonder about customs, but I doubt the guys know anything about that either, so I don't bother to ask.
“Jesus Christ,” Muse breathes as we climb out of the van and stand on the still damp pavement, looking up the steps at the interior of the plane. “This is way beyond our pay grade, Paxton.”
“Yeah, well,” he says, breezing past us and up the steps like he owns the place.
“This is not from the label,” Muse says, looking over at Cope. “Who told you it was?”
“Paxton,” Cope says, playing with the sweatband on his right wrist. The two of them exchange a glance as Ransom and Michael pause next to us.
“Yeah,” Muse says with a harsh laugh, rubbing at his temples with two bat covered fingers. “Well, that's a bunch of bullshit.”
“So whose is it then?” Ran asks, looking confused as he stands there with his hands tucked in the front pocket of his hoodie, the wind teasing the hood off his head and ruffling his dark hair.
“Um, the Blackwells?” Muse says, raising both of his dark brows at us. “Either they own it or they rented it or what the fuck ever, but I will bet you every cent I have in the bank that this plane right here is from Paxton's family.”
“After Harper died, they cut him off financially,” Ransom says, voice low and tinged with worry. “Why would they be doing this now?”
Nobody has an answer for that.
“Fuck this,” Michael says, tucking his bandana in his pocket. “I'm not looking a gift horse in the mouth. Let's just get on and enjoy the flight. When it comes to Pax's crazy family, I don't get involved. He can deal with that shit on his own.”
Michael moves past us, up the steps, and inside.
Muse takes a deep breath and then reaches down for my hand, curling our fingers together.
“You ready, Cutie?” he asks and I nod, my heart still pounding, unsure about the slight turn of events. I have no idea why Pax's family would upgrade our plane ride, but I'm guessing we'll find out eventually.
Based on his mood, I imagine that it's probably nothing good.
“I'm ready,” I say, walking up the steep set of stairs with Derek by my side, Ran and Cope behind us.
As soon as we hit the top step, I'm sure of it.
I really am Cinderella, and this … this is my carriage. Not the one the fairy godmother gave me though, the one that turns back into a pumpkin. This is the real deal, the prince's carriage, the one that'll take me back to the castle so I can live happily ever after.
I take a deep breath and step inside, a million pounds lighter after saying goodbye to my family, to Gloversville. But I know that like anything else, this feeling is temporary. Emotions aren't stagnant waters to be treaded indefinitely. There are droughts, floods, tsunamis, hurricanes, whirlpools. And that's just one person's worth of baggage.
But five?
Five princes in a fine carriage, one princess.
No matter how many slippers they slide on my feet, no ma
tter how many balls we visit, I still have to be able to pick up a sword and fight for myself. I have to make a life that's mine, that's not dependent on anyone else. It's still okay to wear the beautiful dress and enjoy the fairytale, but there has to be something else beyond the colorful pages of that book, something real.
This jet … it doesn't look real to me with its plush seats, flatscreen TVs, polished wood accents.
Those are just fucking baubles.
The only thing that looks real to me right now is the expression on Paxton Blackwell's face as he pours amber liquid into a glass tumbler and lifts it to his lips for a drink.
I let go of Muse's hand for a moment and make my way over to him.
My arms slide around his waist; my cheek rests against his back.
The rapid thundering of his heart, the sharp intake of his breath, that's what's real. He might be a prince, but he's also still just a man. I close my eyes and hold him tight, wondering yet again if meeting these boys, if stumbling onto their bus, if standing here holding Pax is all coincidence … or if it's fate. If a butterfly really can flap its wings and stir up a storm.
“I love you, Pax,” I say because no matter how much money his family has, no matter what they've done or will do to him, they can't buy that or take it away. They can't buy me.
He goes so still that for a second I wonder if I've made a terrible mistake. But then his hand drops and covers mine where they're clenched together around the front of his waist, pressed up tight against his crisp suit jacket and the starched white of his shirt. The thing is, even in all those fancy clothes, he still smells faintly of sweat from the show.
“Miss Lily, I …” he starts, but I reach up and cover his lips with my hand. I don't need to hear him say it back. It doesn't matter. What I said is true, whether it was coincidence … or whether it was fate. If he wants to say it to me, he can say it later, when we're no longer in a carriage with footmen and white horses.
I might be Cinderella right now, but inside, I'll always be the girl sleeping in front of the hearth, her clothes darkened with soot, her hands chapped and blistered from the harsh realities of life and death. The girl without a father or a mother or a sister. But the girl who, although she'd never rejoice at the loss of her loved ones, is starting to be okay with who she's becoming.
Grief and love … the only true immortals in this world.
But I can tell you with all due certainty that the latter … most definitely cancels out the former.
Especially if you have love five times over.
To Be Continued …
Dear Reader,
Now that we've wrapped up the second book in Lilith's story, I'm still seriously head over heels in love with all the boys. If you're already desperate for more, no worries! Book three, Moxie, in the Rock-Hard Beautiful Trilogy releases May 26th, 2017.
If you enjoy reading about one girl with lots of sexy, seductive love interests (a genre known as reverse harem), please check out my other two series: Pack Ebon Red & Beautiful Survivors. Turn the page for more information!
Thank you so much for taking the time to read my work and immerse yourself in Lil's story. Books truly come to life when readers like you hold them in your hands. For that, I am forever grateful.
Happy Reading!
C.M.
Pre-Order Book #3: MOXIE Now and See Where Lilith and Her Boys Finish Their Story
Five runaway teens, one epic love story.
I am wolf; I am human; I am neither; I am both. I am werewolf.
And I have seven Alpha Males as my mates.
Florian is a tattoo artist, the love of my life … and my stepbrother. Fate can be wicked cruel.
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Find your next five star read in C.M. Stunich's (aka Violet Blaze's) collection and discover more kick-ass heroines, smoking hot heroes, and stories filled with wit, humor, and heart.
About the Author
C.M. Stunich is a self-admitted bibliophile with a love for exotic teas and a whole host of characters who live full time inside the strange, swirling vortex of her thoughts. Some folks might call this crazy, but Caitlin Morgan doesn't mind - especially considering she has to write biographies in the third person. Oh, and half the host of characters in her head are searing hot bad boys with dirty mouths and skillful hands (among other things). If being crazy means hanging out with them everyday, C.M. has decided to have herself committed.
She hates tapioca pudding, loves to binge on cheesy horror movies, and is a slave to many cats. When she's not vacuuming fur off of her couch, C.M. can be found with her nose buried in a book or her eyes glued to a computer screen. She's the author of over thirty novels - romance, new adult, fantasy, and young adult included. Please, come and join her inside her crazy. There's a heck of a lot to do there.
Oh, and Caitlin loves to chat (incessantly), so feel free to e-mail her, send her a Facebook message, or put up smoke signals. She's already looking forward to it.
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Front Matter Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Signup for my Newsletter
Author's Note
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Ch
apter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Back Matter Author's Note
Moxie Cover
Beautiful Survivors Cover
Pack Ebon Red Cover
Stepbrother Inked Cover
Keep Up With The Fun
More Books By C.M. Stunich
About the Author
Roadie (Rock-Hard Beautiful Book 2) Page 26
