A Love Song for Rebels (Rivals Book 2)

by Piper Lawson

  “Holy fuck, Six.” I whisper it like a prayer.

  She helps me work my jeans off. I get up long enough to find a condom from my wallet and roll it on while she watches, breathless.

  “Wait,” she murmurs when I shift over her again.

  I laugh softly. “You were the one so anxious to do this.”

  “But I want to savor it, too.”

  I can’t speak.

  So, I kiss her instead as I wedge myself between her soft thighs.

  I nudge her opening, groaning into her mouth because she’s so hot and wet.

  Every part of me pulses as I press inside an inch at a time.

  I watch her face, see her eyes go dark as she gasps when I fill her.

  There’s my girl.

  Mine now. Always.

  “You okay?” I ask when I’m halfway inside her.

  She nods, swallowing. She’s tight and hot and slick and perfect.

  “I know. It’s a lot to take in,” I say.

  Her hand slaps my chest, and I grin as I bend to kiss her again.

  Her panting breaths mingle with mine as I sink all way in. My head drops back as the feel of what we’re doing overtakes me.

  When she wraps her legs around me, urging me to move, I shake my head. “We gotta go slow, or I’m going to lose control.”

  “I don’t want slow, and I don’t want you in control.” She licks lips swollen from my kisses. “I want to free-fall.”

  Fuck. I can’t hold back when she talks like that.

  When I sink back inside her, she arches her back to meet me, her face transformed with desire.

  I want to give her so much pleasure she can’t come without thinking of me.

  Every stroke is a memory I need to preserve. She’s tight and soft, and I could explore the contradiction forever.

  Except that tonight we’ve got somewhere to be. I’ve waited for this girl for years, and I’m not waiting another second.

  I build her up, toeing the line between deliberate and reckless. This might be our first time together, but I know her. I know how she thinks, how she feels, what emotions make her lips tremble and her eyes glow.

  Tonight, I’m going to learn how to make her scream.

  My mouth claims hers, swallowing every sound and breath. I’m greedy for all of her, any of her, and I won’t let a single element of her reaction go to waste.

  Annie’s hips lift to meet mine, and I lift her higher so I’m in control, so I can go deeper.

  I tear my lips from hers to drag them down her jaw, the long, beautiful neck she’s offering up.

  “Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.”

  Her chants spur me on.

  We’re in this together, Six. You and me.

  When she squeezes around me, her nails digging into my skin as she moans my name…

  I die.

  I swear my heart stops.

  I never want to spend a moment on this planet without knowing that expression of delirious pleasure on her face, without having it imprinted on my mind, in my soul.

  I will destroy any man who even thinks about her like this.

  I can’t hold back. I come. It’s everything I ever dreamed and some things I wouldn’t dare.

  I pulse for fucking ages, my abs clenching as I try to think of a way I can stay inside her like this forever because nothing will ever be as good as this moment.

  When we come down, I reluctantly roll us so she’s on top because I don’t want to crush her.

  We lie like that, me stroking her hair and staring at the faded white ceiling, until something buzzes near my head.

  Annie twists, moving off me to grab her phone from the nightstand. “It’s Rae. She saw the shoe, but she needs to get into the room.”

  I force my languid body off the bed, grabbing a box of tissues to clean up.

  My attention lands on a vase of flowers. “Nice gift. Should I be jealous?”

  “It’s from Dad and Haley.”

  “You gotta tell them.” I try for casual, but Annie stiffens anyway as she tugs a long T-shirt over her head.

  I might not have earned the right to tell her what to do, but she must see how futile keeping her education from him is, how much worse she’s making it with every day she puts it off.

  “I will when I’m ready.” She narrows her gaze. “I liked your mouth better twenty minutes ago.”

  “I’m sure you did.” I step closer, watch her eyes darken as I do. I want to kiss her again, but I’m afraid if I start, I’ll never leave.

  My gaze lands on something—a fishbowl next to the flowers—and I cock my head. “Was he watching us the whole time?”

  “Heath? Probably, but he’s pretty judgy. You guys would get along great.”

  I muss her hair in retaliation, and she ducks away, grinning.

  I cross toward the door, then pull the door open and hold out the shoe.

  She takes it from me and taps it against her hand.

  When I don’t move, Annie raises a brow. “You waiting for me to say, ‘Thank you for the orgasms. I’ll study so much better now’?”

  “My ego would appreciate that.”

  “Fine. That was very relaxing.”

  “Relaxing?” I echo, closing in on her. “Don’t pretend you’re not rubbing one out to me in the shower later.”

  She reaches up to wind her arms around my neck, pressing her body against mine. I’m already getting hard again at the feel of her soft curves.

  “Feels like you miss me already.”

  I bite back the groan, my eyes narrowing. “I’m going to make you beg, Six.”

  Annie’s lips part, her breath mingling with mine. “Promise?”

  She pulls back before I can decide whether to leave or drag up that T-shirt and fuck the smug smile off her lips.

  With a last look, I head down the hall, pulling the door closed after me.

  I do miss her already. But not the way she means.

  “You’re home late,” Beck comments from the living room when I unlock the door of our apartment.

  I kick off my shoes and toss my wallet on the counter. “We’re closing the showcase. Me and Annie. The schedule gets announced publicly tomorrow.”

  Beck’s face splits into a grin. He descends on me, clapping me on the back.

  “You deserve it, Ty. The break. The stage. The girl,” he says meaningfully as he crosses to the couch and flicks on the TV. “You should look happier.”

  I grab a beer from the fridge.

  “I am happy, but people say that like you’ve arrived. Like getting what you want is a destination. Those moments don’t last, Beck.” I think of my dad, what he went through—how entitled he felt, how quickly anything he found slipped through his fingers.

  “You want certainty, you’re in the wrong business, my friend,” Beck says.

  I join my roommate on the couch. “Music.”

  “Life.”

  The TV’s on silent but playing some reality show.

  “Smackdown,” he reminds me. “The contestants put themselves through these insane physical tests to try to win a bunch of money. Mostly they end up with bruises, sometimes broken bones, and nothing to show for it.”

  “That’s messed up.”

  “We do exactly the same thing.” He reaches for my beer with a smirk and takes a long drink before passing it back. “When I met you last fall, I knew you were walking around this city with a broken heart. When Annie showed up this year, the pieces clicked into place. But instead of thanking whatever god you pray to for giving you another chance, you’re thinking of all the reasons it won’t work.”

  “Last time, neither of us knew what we wanted. We were kids, Beck, playing at being grown-ups. We’ve both changed. We have more than dreams—we have plans. But I lost myself in her, and it took walking away to realize it.”

  Beck cocks his head. “Are you in love with her?”

  “I don’t know if I ever fell out of love with her.”

  The words settle bet
ween us, my abs contracting as my mind takes me back to her dorm room an hour ago. I’d barely finished touching her before I wanted to touch her again.

  “Seeing her again this fall, it’s like a part of me I thought was dead came back to life. And more of me came with it, a part that helped my music and made me feel more alive than I have in a year. She always got me like no one else, and even when I wouldn’t let her in, she’d find her way.

  “When I tried to work for Zeke, he said something was missing. She brings something out of me that’s not there when she’s gone.”

  “One thing I can’t figure out is why she’s here. Why doesn’t she get her dad to set her up with a contract?”

  “Because she wants to build her own castles. I respect the hell out of that.”

  Beck’s eyes gleam. “Girl’s got you thinking about the future, huh?”

  He’s pushing my buttons on purpose, but the thought of a future with her has me aching. “She’s like a song. She can be across the country, but I hear her name, or see someone who looks like her, or read something that sounds like she wrote it, and in a moment, she’s back. I’m dropped into this world of feeling, trapped in the same place. And I don’t want to leave.

  “The stakes now are higher than ever. But even if I know there’s a chance of breaking her heart or her breaking mine and ruining both our lives… I want her too much to walk away.”

  “Then don’t.”

  We turn back to the TV, where middle-aged contestants are racing through an obstacle course built over a pool to try to win a car.

  When a balding man slips on a moving disc and tumbles into the water with a massive splash, I say, “I thought we were supposed to get smarter when we get older.”

  Beck holds out a hand for my beer again, and I pass it to him. “Propaganda.”

  14

  “You’re quiet for someone who landed a spot closing the showcase,” Elle points out at breakfast. “It’s mind sex, isn’t it?”

  I blink, ripping off a piece of my untouched bagel. “You mean fantasizing?”

  “Don’t make it sound pretty. It’s hot and dirty, and you’re doing it.”

  Rae drops into a seat next to us with her coffee, surprising both of us. “It wasn’t mind sex that kept me out of my room Monday night.”

  It’s true, and for the last thirty-six hours, all I’ve been able to think about is Tyler.

  Not the showcase we landed, but the things I want to do with Tyler that have nothing to do with music and everything to do with his hands and mouth and body.

  Yesterday, we agreed to spend the day catching up on our schoolwork before launching back into rehearsing.

  Still, we ran into each other accidentally-on-purpose in the halls at school, and he pulled me into a stairwell for a hot and too-short make-out.

  If we hadn’t both had class to go to, I know we would’ve ended up in my room again.

  I want that so badly.

  In some ways, it’s a good thing Tyler and I never sealed the deal in high school. Neither of us would’ve graduated.

  My phone rings, interrupting my daydream, and I answer without looking.

  “Annie Jamieson?” the warm female voice asks.

  I straighten, but Elle and Rae don’t seem to be listening. “Yes.”

  “This is Kelly Fox from Lighthouse Representation. I saw the schedule for the Vanier showcase online.”

  My mind spins with a million questions at once—how she found me, how she got my number, but most of all, The showcase lineup is posted online?

  Of course it is.

  But if it was so easy for her to get it, will my dad see it?

  My stomach twists as she goes on. “I assume you’re Annie Jamieson, daughter of Jax Jamieson. I wanted to talk to you about your options for representation.”

  “You’re an agent.” My heart thuds.

  Elle’s and Rae’s gazes snap to me.

  “Are you calling Tyler Adams too?” I press.

  I don’t miss the pause before she answers. “Annie, we have to be selective about our clients.”

  Indignation rises up. “You need to talk to Tyler.” I take a breath. “Whatever you think I can do for you, he can do more. Come to the show. You won’t be disappointed.”

  I hang up.

  “Why would you pass on an agent?” Elle demands.

  “I didn’t pass,” I reply before realizing I sort of did. “She should’ve been interested in Tyler.”

  “She could’ve been interested in both of you.”

  I frown. “Maybe. But it didn’t sound like it.” I spot a familiar person heading into the dining hall and wave.

  Beck flips a chair around and sits astride it, grinning. “Morning, ladies.”

  “Tyler’s not with you, is he?” I cut a look toward the doors.

  “Nope.”

  “Good.” Determination sets in. “I need you to send an email to Zeke’s studio with the schedule for the showcase. Tell him Kelly Fox called asking about Tyler and you wanted to do him the courtesy of letting him know people are sniffing around.”

  His gaze narrows as if he’s trying to figure out what I’m up to. “My boy know about this?”

  “No. And you’re not going to tell him.”

  “I’m not in the habit of keeping secrets from my roomie,” he warns.

  “This is for him,” I promise.

  After breakfast we go to Entertainment Management, where I take notes through our guest lecturer’s presentation.

  Next it’s Talbot’s class.

  She checks in on the status of our term project: a monologue that blends a piece of cinema with our own inspiration.

  I’ve jotted down some ideas, but I’ve been so focused on the showcase I haven’t progressed further. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that of all my professors, she’s the only one who seems to go out of her way to cut me down.

  Elle leans over while Talbot discusses the assignment with one of our classmates. “I heard she’s writing a musical,” my friend murmurs.

  I nearly drop my pen. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. You know she acted on Broadway on and off for like two decades.”

  “I remember reading that. But I had no idea she wrote, too.”

  I can’t reconcile our tough professor with the type of person I always imagined penning for the stage, but I can’t let it go.

  After class, I approach her. “Miss Talbot? I heard you’re writing a musical. Can you tell me about it?”

  She straightens, staring at me for an extra-long beat as if looking for something new. “I’m writing the book—the lyrics,” she goes on. “My writing partner does the score.” She gathers up her books from the desk and starts to brush past me when I call after her.

  “I love musicals. I know Broadway doesn’t have the money Hollywood does or the tradition of Shakespeare, but musical theater is big and bright and raw and unapologetic and honest… There’s nothing else that can make you cry and laugh in the same three minutes. Or that can make your heart expand until you swear it’s going to burst out of your ribs. It’s the most beautiful, unapologetically human form of expression I’ve ever seen.”

  I’m being more candid with her than I’ve been all year, but it’s too late to change that.

  She turns back. Her lips purse and I brace myself, waiting for her to bite out something harsh.

  Instead she says, “My partner and I have an off-Broadway show running right now.”

  When she gives me the name, I write it down immediately. “I’ll go see it this weekend.”

  Her lips twitch at the corner. “If you’re that interested, I can have a couple of seats for you Friday at will call.”

  By the time I dash out of class to head over to the Columbia campus to study with Pen, I’m already feeling bouncier than I have in weeks.

  That night in my room, I text Tyler, triumphant.

  Annie: I scored us a practice room for tomorrow. You can thank me now or later.

&nbs
p; The response comes back almost immediately.

  Tyler: I can do us one better if you’re willing to go to Brooklyn.

  Annie: ???

  Tyler: I’m playing a session gig for Zeke. We’ll probably finish early, and we can use the studio for a bit if so.

  Thursday after class at Columbia, I have lunch with Pen, catching up on both of our gossip. According to her eyebrows plastered to her hairline, I’ve won this round.

  Before I leave campus, she hands me the oversized package that was delivered to her room with my name on it.

  It’s perfect timing, and I take it on the subway with me to Brooklyn.

  I use the map on my phone to find the brick building on the corner. Inside, the woman at the desk gets me an escort to studio two.

  The producer acknowledges me with a nod through the glass panel in the door, and moments later, the door opens. I head into the booth as my attention’s drawn to the guy on the other side of the glass.

  Tyler’s sitting on a stool, guitar in his lap, laughing with the other guys in the band.

  He’s so handsome and competent, perfectly at ease, and my chest expands as I watch him.

  I’m proud of him but a little envious, too.

  “They’re wrapping up. I’m Zeke.”

  My head turns toward the fit, middle-aged man on this side of the glass wearing a sport coat with jeans.

  “Annie.” I hold out a hand.

  His gaze narrows as he takes it. “Annie…?”

  “Just Annie.”

  Tyler comes through the door. His eyes brighten with pleasure as he sees me.

  “Nice work today, Tyler,” Zeke says. “I might have a gig for you. You free Tuesday night?”

  His brows lift. “What kind of gig?”

  “The kind that you’d change anything in your calendar for.” Zeke claps a hand on Tyler’s shoulder. “It’s at Madison Square Garden. I’ll send you the details.”

  I think Zeke’s going to leave, but his attention homes in on the guitar case at my side.

  “If you wanted a different guitar, we could’ve gotten you one,” he says, shaking Tyler’s hand before disappearing out the door, leaving us alone.