by Piper Lawson
The theater is beautiful, and I love everything about it. It’s opulent yet intimate, with plush red seats and arching gold decorations. Our seats are in the second row.
I point it all out to Tyler, and we discuss it until the lights go down.
From the opening number, I’m rooted in place.
So many stories are powerful, but this one grabs me and refuses to let go.
It’s about building a legacy.
Taking action.
Fucking up.
Every word, every song, fills me as if I’m the one singing, and my lungs expand until I think my chest will burst.
It’s beautifully, achingly human.
By the end, I feel reborn.
“Well?” Tyler asks when the ovation finishes and our row files out.
I don’t move, staring at the stage after everyone’s left our row. “This is it,” I state. “This is what I want to do.”
I cut a look up at Tyler’s amused face. “Talbot sent me part of the book she’s cowriting for a new musical. It’s nearly finished, but she’s been stuck on a couple of songs. I sent her some lyrics, just some spur-of-the-moment ideas, and she actually liked them. There’s a chance I could work on it with her.”
His grin is dazzling. Tyler wraps an arm around me, and we head down the aisle for the exit, my program tucked safely in my little bag like a perfect memory of tonight.
After the theater, the car takes us to a bar.
“Don’t wait. We’ll find our own way home,” Tyler tells the driver when he lets us out, and we watch the car glide slowly down the street.
We reach the bar, and he holds the door. Inside, it’s charming and funky, and we weave through the hip crowd and snag two stools.
We order from the bartender, and he returns a moment later with our drinks.
I lift mine as I consider. “To big dreams.”
“To being so good they can’t look away.” Tyler’s mouth tugs at the corner as if he’s remembering the moment a year and a half ago when he gave me those words.
I take a sip of my drink, humming with pleasure at the smoothness as I glance around the bar.
“You hear anything from your dad?” Tyler asks.
Sadness edges into my excitement, though if I’m honest, a part of it’s been there the past week, lingering in the corners of my mind, my soul. “Just Haley.”
Tyler reaches over to rest a hand on my thigh. “He’s not perfect, Annie, but none of us are. I know you’ve had your issues, and I don’t agree with everything he does, but he loves the hell out of you.”
Tyler’s words have me sighing. “I know. And I probably should have told him. But I’m stubborn and so is he, and we both suck at backing down.” I turn that over. “I told him about the letter from my birth mom. He was shocked. He almost looked… guilty. Like I caught him doing something he shouldn’t.”
“You could reach out to her.”
“Maybe I will.”
I scan the bar over his shoulder, the dozens of people drinking and laughing and joking. Is she somewhere doing the same thing right now?
I shake it off as my attention comes back to Tyler. Tonight’s not for that—tonight is for us. “So,” I start, my mouth twitching, “what does the future look like for Tyler Adams now that he has a record deal?”
His thumb strokes my thigh absently, sending little ripples of awareness through me. “Zeke wants me to record an EP to start. A combination of my own songs and a cover or two. I told him I wanted to record our songs, if you’d be open to that. The one from the showcase, and maybe we could work on more together.”
Disbelief washes over me. “Tyler?! Yes. A million times, yes.”
He grins at my response. “There’s more, though.” The brightness in his eyes dims a few watts. “The band I played with loved my sound, and they have a slot for an opener on their tour in a couple months. They want me to go with them. I have a couple days to decide.”
My jaw drops. “Wow. That’s huge.”
“Two months ago, all I wanted was to get the hell out of Vanier. Now, I don’t want to leave my friends or New York.” He inspects the contents of his drink, then tosses it back in a single gulp before setting the glass down with a thud and meeting my gaze. “I don’t want to leave you.”
My chest warms at his admission.
“I feel as if I’ve always wanted you,” he goes on, “and this is the first time I have you.”
He reaches for my hand, and instead of threading his fingers through mine, he flips my palm. His thumb traces the lines of my palm in a way that feels far too intimate for public.
“Nothing can pull us apart if we don’t let it,” I promise softly, and his jaw tightens.
“Good.”
He reaches into his pocket for something, holding it up. It glints between his fingers, the size of a nickel, but it’s gold.
“What is that?” I ask.
“A promise.” His voice goes rough as he stares at me. “I told you once I’d never leave you. I might have moved to New York last summer, but my heart never left you. I meant what I said. I mean it still.”
My breath trembles out, unsteady.
“You are the only person I let under my skin,” he goes on, his voice rough. “I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you. The way you see the world, the way you care, the way you try, the way you get up when you’re knocked down.”
My throat is tight with emotion, and every word adds to the sensations overwhelming me.
“I choose you, Annie,” he says. “Over uncertainty, over fear, over doubt. I will always choose you. Whether you’re next to me or a thousand miles away, when you look at this, you’ll know it’s true.”
I take the ring from him, and it’s cool and heavy despite the narrow band. The inside is smooth, the outside scarred.
No, carved.
The band is engraved with flowers.
“It’s beautiful,” I manage.
Tyler rounds my stool and unfastens my necklace, then slips the ring over the chain and refastens the clasp. I adjust it, and the ring settles between my breasts along with the pressed flower. My fist closes around it.
I twist in my seat, needing to find his gaze. Once I do, it’s so full of love and awe I never want to let it go.
I never want to let him go.
He claims my mouth in a long kiss that’s searing and tender at once. By the time he pulls back, I’m tugging at his hair, needing to feel his body on mine.
“Let’s get out of here,” he murmurs. “That dress is killing me.”
“I thought you liked it.”
“I’m going to like taking it off you more.”
We pay for our drinks before putting on our coats and stumbling outside.
“Let me call a cab.”
“Come on,” I tease, “we can walk.”
With everything that’s happened tonight, I could use the air.
I could inhale and entire city’s worth of oxygen right now.
“So… sign, join, or jilt?” Tyler drawls as he holds the door, reminding me of our old game.
“Who?” I retort.
“Me.”
I don’t realize how late it is until we get into the street.
“Well,” I say, pretending to consider. “You’re already signed, so unless I lure you away from your label—”
“Which you could do in a heartbeat.”
“Really?” I trip over the pavement, falling against his side with a laugh. “I have nothing to offer you.”
His low chuckle buzzes through me. “Your mouth is remarkably persuasive.”
“You’d leave Zeke for a blowjob?” I demand, mock aghast. The idea of Tyler coming apart under my hands, my mouth, is impossibly sexy.
He groans. “I’m walking home in the middle of the night with a fucking hard-on, and it’s all your fault.”
I laugh as we stumble down the road toward Tyler’s place. He takes my hand as we talk about all kinds of things, our voices r
aised from the alcohol.
Nothing can break the beautiful imperfection of this moment. Despite the rift between me and my dad and the uncertainty of my future, Tyler’s finally getting what he deserves, I’m learning to stand on my own feet, and we have each other.
We’re a few blocks from his apartment, and I’m already imagining the things we’re going to do together when a rough voice interrupts my fantasy.
“Give me your purse.”
I glance at Tyler, sure I’ve misheard. “What did you say?”
But the words didn’t come from him.
I spin to see a guy in black from head to toe. He’s half in the shadows of the alley, which is why I didn’t spot him. “Your purse. And phones.”
Tyler moves between the guy and me, stilling when something under the guy’s jacket glints in the streetlight.
My body goes cold. I don’t know what it is, a knife or a gun, but every part of me’s focused on that silver flash.
“Give it to him,” Tyler says calmly, reaching into his pocket and holding out the phone.
Give what? Shit. My bag.
I swallow and force myself to hold out my purse with my phone inside. The man takes it and shoves it in his jacket. He hasn’t touched me, but I feel violated, as if someone’s burst our perfect bubble.
I cut a look down the street. The closest major intersection is five blocks away.
“Wallet too.”
Tyler reaches slowly into his pocket and holds it out.
The guy takes it, flips it open to check for cash. “Got any jewelry?”
“No,” Tyler answers steadily.
How can he be so calm?
“What about her?”
I shake my head fast. The man’s gaze drops to my chest. My fingers close around the gold necklace.
“It’s nothing,” I say softly. “It was a gift.”
“Hand it over.”
My eyes burn as the ring and the rose warm in my hand. I can’t move.
“Give it!” He makes a threatening gesture, and I hiccup a breath as I reach for the clasp with trembling fingers.
“No.” Tyler’s voice has an edge this time.
Something silver flashes again, and Tyler moves, every bit as fast at the other guy.
“The fuck you doing?!” the other guy shouts as Tyler lunges.
They’re on the ground, and I’m watching in horror as they roll.
I want to scream, but it’s stuck in my throat. It’s like seeing a car crash. I can’t call 9-1-1; he has my phone.
They roll over and over, and there’s panting and grunting. Then the guy’s out from under Tyler, sprinting down the sidewalk.
A sickening groan pulls me back.
“Tyler!” I drop to the ground next to him. One hand’s still on my necklace, and I force myself to let go in order to roll Tyler onto his back.
The second I do, there’s blood. The smell of it invades my nose, and I fight nausea as I search wildly for the source of it in the dark, patting his chest through his black dress shirt, rumpled and dusty from the fight.
“Tyler, oh my God. Say something.”
His lips are parted, and the only thing that escapes is a grunt of pain.
Relief edges in as I shove Tyler’s sweat-damp hair off his face, searching his half-lidded gaze.
I feel dampness around my knees, and my chin jerks down.
There’s a bloom of red pooling at my leg near Tyler’s side, and the moment I realize what’s happened, the knot in my throat loosens.
Now, I scream.
Thank you for reading A LOVE SONG FOR REBELS!
I hope you loved this second instalment of Tyler and Annie’s epic, emotional story.
If you can’t wait for the exciting conclusion, don’t miss A Love Song for Dreamers.
Order A Love Song for Dreamers (Rivals #3) now!
Rockstars don’t chase college students…but Jax Jamieson’s never followed the rules.
Did you miss Jax and Haley’s best-selling rockstar romance? You can binge the complete Wicked series today, beginning with Good Girl.
Read Good Girl now!
If you enjoyed A Love Song for Rebels, I’d be so grateful if you would leave me a 1-sentence review wherever you picked up this book. Then send me a link at [email protected] so I can thank you personally!
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Books by Piper Lawson
~RIVALS SERIES~
(Annie + Tyler)
Love Notes
A Love Song for Liars
A Love Song for Rebels
A Love Song for Dreamers
~ WICKED SERIES ~
(Jax + Haley)
Good Girl
Bad Girl
Wicked Girl
Forever Wicked
~ MODERN ROMANCE SERIES ~
Easy Love
(Wes + Rena)
Bad Love
(Logan + Kendall)
Twisted Love (coming soon!)
(Ben + Daisy)
~ PLAY SERIES ~
PLAY
(Max + Payton)
NSFW
(Avery + Charlie)
RISE
(Riley + Sam)
~ TRAVESTY SERIES ~
Schooled
(Dylan + Lex)
Stripped
(Nate + Ava)
Sealed
(Dylan + Lex novella)
Styled
(Ethan + Jordan)
Satisfaction
(Kent + Dahlia novella)
THANK YOU
If you read A Love Song for Rebels…thank you. Thank you for trusting me with your time and emotions. Thank you falling in love with the beautiful, flawed, earnest characters that fill my mind from morning to night.
My readers are the most amazing readers in the world. You guys are positive, bold, enthusiastic, supportive, and amazing humans. I wouldn’t write without you.
If you enjoyed A Love Song for Rebels, I’d be beyond grateful if you could take two minutes to leave a quick review wherever you picked it up. Reviews are like gold to us authors - especially indies!
If you do leave a review, I’d love to hear about it. Here’re the best ways to reach out:
www.facebook.com/piperlawsonbooks
www.instagram.com/piperlawsonbooks
[email protected]
Thanks for being awesome, for inspiring me every day, and for helping make it possible for me to do something I love.
xoxo
Piper
About the Author
Piper Lawson is a USA Today bestselling author of smart, steamy romance! She writes about women who follow their dreams (even the scary ones), best friends who know your dirty secrets (and love you anyway), and complex heroes you’ll fall hard for (especially after talking with them). Brains or brawn? She’ll never make you choose.
Piper lives in Canada with her tall, dark and brilliant husband. She believes peanut butter is a protein, rose gold is a neutral, and love is ALWAYS the answer.
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Acknowledgements
I started to fall for Tyler and Annie in A Love Song for Liars, but in A Love Song for Rebels, they completely stole my heart. It moves me to see these two beautiful, flawed people grow and change and pursue their dreams the best way they know how.
That’s what life is about.
So thank YOU for picking up this book and for trusting me to take you on a ride.
/> I promise it’s one you’ll remember for a long time.
This series wouldn’t have happened without the support of my awesome advance readers. Extra shoutout to Beth, Tammy and Michelle for doing an early read!
Lori Jackson, Regina Wamba, and Kelley Hawthorne Jefferson, thank you for the perfect cover.
Becca Mysoor, thank you for your on-point advice. Cassie Robertson and Devon Burke, thank you for questioning, polishing, and catching all the little things.
Thank you Dani Sanchez for getting the word out about my stories. And Annette Brignac and Michelle Clay… I would not be able to get these books to the people who matter most without your help.
Thank you all from the bottom of my heart. The best part of author life is having YOU in it.
xoxo
Piper
Copyright 2020 by Piper Lawson Books
Content editing by Becca Mysoor
Line and copy editing by Cassie Roberston and Joy Editing
Cover design by Lori Jackson
Cover photography by Regina Wamba
This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locations are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission.
