Once Upon A Rock Star

by Yessi Smith

  I swallow hard, nervous for whatever I’m about to hear.

  “When she went to college, I was literally by myself. Nothing changed in the house aside from Grace not being there. My parents had checked completely out. Luckily, Grace wasn’t too far away. She came home almost every weekend.

  “She had just completed her sophomore year in college and was home for the summer. Home,” she scoffs, “such a joke of a word that was to use.” She looks to me, finally, eyes filled with tears.

  I clench my fists, somehow knowing she doesn’t want my arms around her while she’s trying to get it out but also fighting every instinct I have not to wrap her in my arms.

  “I don’t know what was worse when we got the letter. The fact that deep down I wasn’t sad at all to know they were gone for good? Or knowing that Grace was actually stuck with me.”

  I open my mouth to say something but she halts me with her hand up. “Grace had found an apartment, with Lily and another friend and they were going to move into it in the fall. But then…” she gestures to herself. “She found herself acting more like the mom than she ever had. One of her friends from high school, his dad was a realtor and he helped us sell the house. My parents? They didn’t necessarily just leave us. They literally left their lives behind. Put the deed to the house in my sister’s name. Cashed in their retirement plans and transferred the money to a joint account they set up for my sister and me. I guess I should be grateful. Whatever caused them to leave, they at least had the mind enough to not leave us with nothing.”

  “What…” I stop myself, knowing I shouldn’t ask but she answers my unasked anyway.

  “Clearly whatever they were involved in, it wasn’t good. They had more money than they knew what to do with. Or, it seemed that way. Grace always tells me that they must have loved us enough to leave, and not tangle us in whatever mess they’d gotten themselves into. Me? I know it’s because…” her voice hitches and she sniffles, tears streaming down her face. “I’m just not worthy of it,” she whispers.

  My stomach drops and no longer do I care if she’s swiping away angry tears or backing away from me like she doesn’t want my comfort.

  I need to make it okay.

  To make her understand that she’s so worthy of love.

  “No,” I tell her and wrap my arms around her stiff body. “No,” I whisper again into her hair. “You’re worth everything. Trust me. Why do you think I was going out of my damn mind over the last few days of not hearing from you?”

  “Brandon. Don’t you see? This is why I didn’t reply to your calls or texts. My own parents didn’t love me enough to stay around!”

  Her body comes apart in my arms, collapsing while tears wrack her body.

  I guide us both to the floor and position her in my lap.

  She buries her head in my chest, her tears soaking into me.

  I let her cry until all no more tears come.

  Not once do I let up on my tight grip I have around her.

  Once her body stops hiccupping from her cries, I take her by the shoulders, pushing her away just enough so that I can look her in the eyes.

  “Let me love you enough.”

  Her hazel eyes, now a bright shade of green, search mine.

  Whatever she finds satisfies her.

  She places her lips on mine and whispers, “Okay.”

  And that’s enough.

  Chapter Ten

  Savannah

  “Would you stop fidgeting? You’re beautiful.” Brandon wraps his arms around me from behind, stopping my hands from messing with my simple bright blue dress.

  “I’m nervous.”

  “You don’t say?” he teases. “You have nothing to be nervous about. Mia already loves you and trust me, that’s your biggest obstacle.”

  “But…”

  “No buts. Trust me, yeah?”

  “I trust you.” I watch as his eyes flare at my simple statement, knowing what it means to him to hear me say that. Over the past few weeks, I’ve really opened up to him. He’s been a bit relentless in his pursuit of getting to know me and shockingly, it hasn’t bothered me. I discovered that it’s not so scary to let him in. Brandon makes it easy. He’s been patient

  “Good. Let’s get going,” he says, with a pat to the butt.

  Twenty minutes later, the butterflies haven’t stopped taking flight in my stomach. We’re backstage, waiting for Brandon’s family to come say hello before the show. The first show I’ll be in attendance of as his girlfriend. A term I fought harder than I should have.

  “What? You think we’re not exclusive?”

  “I don’t know. It’s not that I want to be with anyone else.”

  “Savannah, since that first night when I was singing Violin and locked eyes with you? You’ve been mine. Girlfriend is only a temporary term. Trust me on that.”

  I didn’t argue any further.

  How could I?

  Brandon is everything I never knew I would be allowed to have.

  He’s caring and thoughtful and loving and jealous in all the good ways and it doesn’t hurt that he’s sexy as hell, either.

  “So this is what we’ve been missing? Huh. I expected more… something,” I hear a man’s voice and turn. Mia and Cole are walking in with two couples, who I assume are Brandon’s parents and Barrett and Tess, who I’ve been told are Cole’s parents.

  “What did you expect, Barrett? People doing lines of coke or half naked women parading around?”

  “Honestly? Kind of,” Barrett earns himself a backhand to the stomach from a beautiful blonde woman beside him.

  “Barrett! Stop! I’m so sorry, he’s just… well, he’s special.”

  “Bless his heart,” I say before I can stop myself.

  “Oh I like you. She’ll do just fine, Brandon.”

  “Tell me something I don’t already know,” Brandon says, beaming down at me. “Mia? This is Barrett and Tess Ryan, my other parents,” he smiles causing the couple before me to do the same. “I’ve known them since I was born.”

  Before I can react, Tess has me wrapped in her arms, hugging me tightly. She steps back, her hands on my forearms. “Damn, Savannah. You’re beautiful. Glad to finally meet you.”

  My cheeks heat at her words while Barrett pushes Tess aside and pulls me into a hug, lifting me a little bit off the ground. “I’m a bit of a hugger. Forgive me, but you’re one of us now.”

  The other man, who I assume is Brandon’s dad, steps in, pulling Barrett away from me. “I’m Josh, Brandon’s dad. I’m not going to apologize for hugging you because it’s just who we are.”

  “It’s fine,” I squeak, trying to not feel overwhelmed.

  “You guys! Leave her alone,” Brandon chuckles.

  He takes my hand and turns me away from his dad. “Savannah? This is my mom, Lauren. Mom? I’d like you to meet Savannah. My… forever.”

  I’m sure I hear Tess and Mia swoon behind us and me? Well, I think I turn into a puddle of mush.

  Lauren takes me into her arms and whispers, “Welcome to the family. Brandon has told us so much about you.”

  When she pulls away she places her slender hands around my cheeks, tears building in her eyes.

  I don’t know what to say other than, “Thank you.”

  My smile is wobbly and I have to bite my lip to stop myself from crying.

  “Come on, let’s let the guys get ready. I think the rest of the family should be out there by now, and they all want to meet you.”

  I look to Brandon, wondering if he’s okay with that.

  “Just don’t introduce her to Margarita Madness, and we’ll be fine.”

  Lauren places her hand on her heart, the other wrapped around my shoulder. “I would never!”

  Everyone laughs and for some reason, in that moment surrounded by Brandon’s family who were minute by minute making me feel like one of them, I felt a sense of peace and calm wash over me. Something I hadn’t felt since – well, maybe ever.

  But most of a
ll?

  I felt loved.

  Did you enjoy reading about Brandon and Savannah and want to know more about Brandon’s entire family, extended included?

  Fall in love all over again in From the Ground Up, Barrett and Tess’s story of taking back their marriage.

  Find out more here

  Discover what happens when James Cole fights for someone who’s finally realizing she’s worth it in A Better Place.

  Find out more here

  In Feels Like Home, newly single father Andy Simpson gets a second chance at falling in love with the one woman who truly understands.

  Add it to your TBR here

  About the Author

  Jennifer makes her home in small town Iowa with her high school sweetheart, three beautiful, hilarious and amazing kids, one crazy Jack Russell terrier. This is where her love for all things reading, baking, and cooking happen. Jennifer’s family enjoys camping, boating, and spending time outside as much as possible. When she’s not writing or editing/proofreading manuscripts for the many talented authors she’s come to love, you can find her cheering the loudest at her kids’ sporting events, sipping coffee or iced tea out of a mason jar with her Kindle in her lap or binging on Netflix.

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  Cardinal Sins

  By Kristin Vayden

  Chapter One

  Cardinal

  It was so damn hard to focus. I took a deep breath and stared at the stage lights that caused the sea of faces to fade into the background. Speech. I had to give the speech.

  “It’s my pleasure to accept this AMA, and I hope you’ll give me a moment to explain why this is such a monumental event for me…” I touched the headphones around my neck, my trademark. Only a few people knew why I always had them with me and almost always had them on. The information was about to go public; it was about time.

  “When I was in high school, I reached a crossroads in my life. I had lived in undiagnosed high-functioning autism for so long that failure in many aspects of my life was the norm.”

  I took a deep breath, again concentrating on the lights, forcing the other distractions to mute, just like I’d trained myself to do for almost a decade.

  Unless I had the silence or a way to simply filter the stimuli, it took all my energy to act normal, to focus. But when I could direct my attention to one thing… damn, it was incredible how I could hear what others couldn’t, especially when it came to music. I gathered my thoughts and continued with the prompted speech I’d painstakingly written.

  “Distraction. It was everywhere, and no matter how I tried to filter it out, it kept spinning in my mind, working together, mixing and twisting till I could hear every separate track that was part of the whole.”

  Music. Just thinking the word sent a shiver through me; it was my salvation, my drug, my life.

  “Where other kids were able to sit in class and listen to the teacher explain the finer aspects of geometry, I heard something completely different. The scrape of the chalk on the board, along with the scratching of Maya’s pen as she drew her name with Luke’s last name, over and over. The sound of the bell in the other building, the screech of the chair on the industrial tile floor — all of it worked together to make an introduction to a song. If I added a low B below middle C, then added in a slight beat just shy of a 120 tempo — I would even tap my book ever so lightly with the end of my pencil, adding in the missing percussion as I hummed a low sound, just enough for me to hear. It was a solid start; all it needed was a bass line arpeggio of the one, fourth, and fifth—” I took a breath. “You get the picture.”

  The audience chuckled a little; hopefully, that meant they at least partially understood.

  “When the teachers would notice I was distracted, he’d call on me to answer a question or repeat what he had just said.” My hands grew damp at the memory. “Almost always, I couldn’t remember. And I was honest. Because, while I was failing class, I wasn’t a liar.” I shook my head. Still wasn’t, and I was damn proud of it.

  “But it never stopped, and after a few minutes, my mind would wander, and I’d create a different song, unique and fresh, and walk away from school at the end of the day knowing absolutely jack shit about what I was supposed to learn.” I grinned, trying to soften the brutal honesty. I bit my lip ring and slowly released it, sighing.

  “When I was a junior, and my semester grades showed up on the school’s parents’ portal, I knew I was about to have my ass chewed…”

  I paused for effect. “…again.”

  The crowd murmured, some giggled, and others seemed to understand my struggle. After all, what teenager didn’t get his ass chewed by his parents at least once?

  “My parents tried to understand, but my mom thought I was doing a half-ass job at school. If it weren’t for my stepdad, I probably wouldn’t have graduated. But he had an idea. And damn it all, if it didn’t fix everything.” I reflected on the following weeks. It was the start of the path that had led me to this moment. The next part of the speech was critical, so I breathed deep, readied.

  No distractions.

  “My stepdad bought me some noise-canceling headphones. My mom enrolled me in online courses to finish my GED, and my world shifted. I could focus on the sound of the instructor’s voice, or I could simply filter out the rest of the noise and read. So, that’s why I wear the headphones. Most people think I’m just supporting my brand, but I’m actually just dealing with the noise in the only way I know — in the way that my stepdad thought of so long ago. By eradicating the sound, I eliminated the constant distraction. Eventually, I learned how to filter the world without my headphones constantly, but I still wear them. It’s just easier.”

  I shifted my feet, eager to be done with the speech, but wanting the message to be clear, needing people to understand.

  To have hope.

  Resolved, I lifted the award up, my tattoo sleeve peeking through my rolled-up cuff of my white button-down.

  “When we eliminate all the unwanted diversions, everything becomes clearer, more focused, and we’re able to chase after what we want. So, in life, don’t be distracted by all the millions of things that steal our time and energy. Focus on that one thing. What do you want?”

  I paused.

  “With my headphones I was able to listen to the instructor, complete the work, and have enough free time to start my YouTube channel. That was that first step in making me what I am today. It’s been a long road, and I’m nowhere near being finished. But that’s the beauty of music; it only ends when you want it to. Thank you.”

  I nodded to the crowd’s applause, turned on my heel, and exited the overly warm stage. The award was cold in my hand, and I slipped my headphones back over my ears and ducked down one of the darker halls backstage.

  Blessed silence.

  I breathed in, held it, then released the air. My shoulders relaxed their tension, and I regained my mental balance. As the silence enveloped me, my entire body calmed in sequence.

  Silence.

  It really was golden.

  Even if it was manufactured.

  More at ease, I entered the main hallway and maneuvered around two large security guards, the exit sign finally in view. Just past those doors was freedom.

  My cell buzzed in my pocket as I passed by several members of Taylor Swift’s dance crew, and I nodded and ducked my head to avoid any conversation, just in case. I took the back exit and soon was handing the valet my number so I could make my escape.

  Phone buzzing again, I took it out and glanced at the screen. Several texts and two missed calls, all from my production assistant, Maxwell. If he was harassing me right now, something was up.

  The Tesla arrived with the valet, and I caught my keys midair. Sliding a tip into the kid’s hand as he held open the car door, I gave a tight smile and slipped into the wel
coming leather seat. As I sped away, I called Max, my Bluetooth automatically connecting to my headphones and phone.

  “So, I have a situation…” he said by way of greeting.

  “Just what I was hoping for.” I groaned, turning onto the main drive away from the theater.

  “Jaya? Remember her?” Maxwell asked, knowing full well I knew the bitch.

  “What about her?”

  “So, Thomas is calling in a favor.”

  “Like hell he is,” I replied. My lip ring clinked against my teeth as I twisted my mouth and bit them. No way. Not happening. At least not happening again.

  “You wouldn’t believe how many zeros are behind this offer, Cardinal.” Max spoke in a luring tone, the one that reminded me of a baited fishhook.

  “Still not doing it.” I turned at the light and focused on the road, ignoring Max.

  He didn’t stop talking. “New tactic. She needs you.”

  “She needs a lot of things, most of which is a new career. She shot hers to hell and back. It’s not something even I can fix for her — even if I wanted to — which I don’t, so let’s change the subject.”

  Jaya had burned the bridge when she’d left my label for a different one, debuting the song that I’d written the night we’d hooked up, claiming she’d written it herself. The song that had disappeared from my kitchen table and that unfortunately hadn’t included a title or my name.

  “Karma is a bitch, Max.” I added to the conversation, just to punctuate my point.

  “She is, but…” Max paused.

  I tensed. Something was coming, and I had the feeling I was going to hate whatever spewed out of his mouth next.

  “…because she has to clean up her image, she donating one-hundred percent of her new debut single to cancer research… breast cancer research.”