(Complete Rock Stars, Surf and Second Chances #1-5)

by Michelle Mankin

  “Hold on to your panties,” my sister hissed without looking away from her man.

  I shifted my feet a little farther apart and braced. It wasn’t enough. My hair and my body were blasted back by the force of the sound waves that blew out of the stacked speakers in front of us like a sonic boom.

  Ramon’s guitar blazed. Ash’s drums rained hellfire, and Diesel was the fiery comet to burn down the night.

  Then the spotlight found Linc, and he sang about the ocean and a girl. If the Dirt Dogs were a galaxy, he was the galaxy’s voice. He was sexy, sure. Girls screamed. Panties arced through the air and landed at his feet.

  But to me, Diesel brought the real heat.

  As he lounged back on his section of the stage and grooved, I discovered that I couldn’t look away. My blood simmered with his half-lidded eyes on mine. His gaze was like a match, igniting every single suggestive innuendo inside my mind. I trembled, my body suddenly seeming hot enough to melt my bones.

  One song became two. I swayed my hips to the beat. Everyone moved to the rhythm. It was impossible not to.

  As the Dogs concluded their current number, I turned my face to the breeze from the open windows. The dampness of the ocean air helped some, but it didn’t entirely cool me down.

  “Hey.” Diesel stepped up to the mic in front of him. His low voice amplified the jazzed energy I usually experienced around him. “Doing this next shit on account of it being someone’s birthday today.” His gaze locked with mine. “But if anyone films me playing it, I’ll have to break their camera, no fuckin’ joke.”

  He stepped back from the mic and went to take a seat at an upright piano. The bench was angled so the audience could view the player in profile.

  “I didn’t know Diesel played piano,” I said, turning to my sister.

  “Oh yeah, didn’t I tell you?” she asked.

  I shook my head. I loved the piano. That would definitely be something I would have remembered.

  “He rarely plays.” Karen and my sister exchanged a glance. “Usually, it’s like pulling teeth to get him to do it. But for some reason, he wasn’t too hard to convince.”

  My why turned into a whoa as soon as I heard the first notes.

  “I love this song.” I sighed.

  “I know you do, retro-pop diva. C’mon.” Fanny took my hand, tugging me toward the center of the dance floor.

  “Move aside,” Karen said to the people in her way as she followed us. “Birthday girl and pregnant woman coming through.”

  The crowd parted, and I saw Diesel grinning at me before my sister turned me, positioning me in the middle of a line with the other women beside me.

  “Dance,” Fanny ordered.

  My cheeks burned. “No. Everybody’s watching.”

  “Do it,” she said firmly. “Hand motions and everything, Hols. Not my thing. I so don’t get it. But his music makes you happy, and you should go for it.”

  So I did. I swayed and spun. Day-breaking my hands and sun-shining my worries away to Barry Manilow as sung surprisingly well, without sarcasm—well, not too much—by the Dirt Dogs’ lead singer, with Diesel playing piano and my sister goofing off with me like she hadn’t done since we were little.

  • • •

  Afterward, my heart was lighter, the smile on my face genuine, as I stood by the stairs and said good-bye to my sister’s friends, signing autographs for some and taking pictures with others.

  “Hols, can you spend the night at the penthouse?” Fanny asked when the last person was gone.

  I shook my head. “I’ve got the Firelight premiere tomorrow. Publicity shots, interviews, and everything first thing in the morning. But this was great. So cool.”

  My throat tightened. Time had run out. I had to leave soon. It had been so wonderful to be with her, I couldn’t summon the nerve to do what I needed to do.

  “I understand. Don’t start frowning again. There’s no way I’m going to be able to get Linc to do Manilow again. But we still need to do one more thing.” She took my hand and tugged.

  “What? You’ve done too much already.”

  Understanding dawned as she led me toward the stage. Toward the piano.

  “No, Fanny.” I dug the soles of my flip-flops into the floor, glancing at the remaining staff at the bar and the Dogs with Simone and Karen. Diesel stared at me with his arms crossed over his chest.

  “We do this every year, Hols. On her birthday, my birthday, and yours. Keeping the tradition alive. Honoring her memory.” Fanny took a seat on the piano bench and scooted to the end, making room for me to sit beside her.

  “But it makes me cry.” I didn’t want to cry in front of everyone. Especially in front of Diesel.

  “Then cry. It’s better to experience emotion rather than hold it back. Right?”

  It’s what our mom would have said had she been here. But I preferred suppressing my emotions. Predictably, as soon as Fanny started playing, tears burst from my eyes.

  Elton John was our mother’s favorite artist. Mine too. Manilow was for when we were feeling in the mood for show tunes. Elton was for happy and dancing, except for “Your Song.”

  Our mom had begun singing it to Fanny back on Vancouver Island when it had been just the two of them and they’d had nothing but the music to share, just like the song said. Then it had become something simple yet meaningful that we’d done together on birthdays, the three of us. Nowadays, only Fanny and me.

  As my sister sang and played, my chest constricted to the point I could barely breathe.

  Life had been wonderful while our mom was in the world. But the memories associated with the music pummeled me. Her smile. Her eyes. Her voice. Her cinnamon-sugar scent. Her affection. Her hope. Her love.

  Gone. All gone.

  Hot tears slid down my cheeks. I popped up before the last note died. Swaying, I felt like I might be sick.

  “Hols,” Fanny said. “What’s wrong?”

  I shook my head at her. “Don’t touch me,” I snapped when she reached for me. “Leave me alone.”

  My head and chest hurt. A jagged sob lodged in my throat, so sharp it felt like it ripped my windpipe open.

  “You shouldn’t have done this.” I gritted out the words through clenched teeth. “Not here. Not in front of everyone.”

  I was so angry and upset, I was shaking. Moving backward unsteadily, I caught my flip-flop on a thick electrical wire and tripped. Red-hot pain burst from my skin as my knees hit the floor, hard.

  Quickly, I pushed to my feet. The pain from the abrasion on my skin was minor compared to what was going on inside me. Pain I usually buried deep had been sliced wide open. I was exposed so everyone could see how weak I truly was.

  Holding one hand over my heart as if to hold the edges of a ragged wound together, I glanced around for an escape. Spotting a blood-red exit sign, I stumbled toward it.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  * * *

  Outside, a narrow balcony faced the ocean. Going straight to the railing, I gripped it and breathed deeply, trying to calm down. The wood was old and rough, but solid beneath my fingertips. I focused on that thought, the image of everything else wavering through the sheen of tears.

  “Hollie,” Diesel said, and my heart sped up as it seemed prone to do whenever he drew near.

  “Go away.” I gripped the railing tighter, lifting my gaze to the water. The waves were agitated like I was. They crashed and tossed spray in the air as they hit the shore.

  “You made your sister cry.”

  A scoffing sound bubbled up, escaping the confines of my throat. The truth was she had made me cry, but maybe he hadn’t been watching me as closely as I thought he had. I dipped my chin, letting my hair swing forward to curtain my face.

  “You should go back inside.” His tone was authoritative as he came toward me. “Apologize.”

  “Who are you to tell me what to do?” I swung my head around, forgetting to hide my emotion.

  “Someone who—” Diesel paused in midst
ride, his hard expression softening as if the sight of my pain affected him. “Someone who will give it to you straight.” His lips firmed. “You have a habit of running away whenever anything gets intense.”

  “What happens between you and me has nothing to do with what happened in there.” I licked the gathered tears from my lips.

  “I think it does.” His gaze dipped to my mouth.

  “You think everything revolves around you.”

  “You’re wrong.” He glared at me, his eyes as dark as the night. “You might want to examine your own self before you hurl insults at me.”

  “You’re an asshole.”

  “You’re right. I am.”

  Why did he sound pleased?

  “I might be a son of a bitch, but at least I don’t avoid my problems like you do.”

  “You don’t know anything about me or my problems.”

  “I think I do.”

  “How can you possibly?” I swiped the wetness from my cheeks with the back of my hand. “What problems do you have beyond finding the next groupie to have sex with?”

  Inexplicably, his lips curved. “That is a problem. Choosing only one.”

  Diesel’s gaze raked over me as he moved beside me at the rail. Leaning into it, he turned his head toward the ocean. As he watched the waves, his expression darkened as if a shadow had passed over his features.

  “Sometimes I think you’re just like my ex.” His voice was low, reflective. “Other times I think you’re not at all like her. That you feel too much, instead of too little. But one thing is the same.”

  He turned and gave me a hard look. The harshness of his expression made me stiffen.

  “You expend far too much effort trying to escape the inescapable. Nothing’s going to take away that gaping hole inside your chest. It’s always going to be there. So, wall off the worst of it. Don’t wallow. Accept that your life will never be the way it once was. And move on.”

  My jaw dropped open.

  “Yeah.” He made a low sound as if to confirm something I hadn’t said aloud. “I know a bit. And I see. I observe. You want to be strong, but you lean far too much on Fanny. Stop doing it. Let her live her life. You’re old enough to take care of your own shit.”

  Diesel was right. I had it in my mind that I was going to distance myself from her—for her benefit, sure. But it was also for me. I needed to grow up, and I never would if I was always turning to her at the first sign of trouble.

  “You don’t have to thank me.”

  “I wasn’t going to.” My lips twitched in amusement, despite all the heavier emotions sloshing around inside me.

  “What do you see when you look at the ocean?”

  The sudden switch of topic caught me off guard. “Grandeur. Danger. Perspective. A canvas to process my thoughts.” The words tumbled out as if he were giving me an inkblot test.

  “Yeah.” He pulled in a deep breath, his chest expanding before he exhaled.

  “You?” I shifted to more fully face him, my brows dipped as I studied him.

  “Those things, sure, but also a challenge, something to carve up with my board, something intriguing to master and tame.” He shifted too. His arms reaching out, he captured me and drew me closer by my waist.

  Caught off guard by him again, mesmerized by the intensity in his gaze, I let myself be reeled in. A fish on the line, the lure not Diesel’s looks, though he was undeniably handsome with the breeze tossing his curls around his face. But more than all that was the puzzle he represented. I didn’t get him, but he seemed to get me in a way that was uncannily accurate.

  “When the waves are firing perfectly, coming at me one after another, they remind me of you. When you’re not hiding. When you stand up to me, when you give it back to me as hard as I give it to you, you’re fucking phenomenal.”

  He lifted his other hand and grasped a lock of my hair. Once he’d tucked it behind my ear, he left his hand on my face to frame it.

  “What are you doing?” I shivered beneath his touch.

  “I’m going to kiss you.”

  “No,” I whispered.

  “Yes.” He walked me backward toward the wall.

  Hardly able to breathe, I shook my head. “I don’t want you to.”

  “You do. You want it as badly as I do. I can see it in your eyes. They’re full of fire that needs releasing. Like there’s moonlight trapped inside you.”

  I held my breath as he lowered his head toward mine. Diesel was right . . . I did want him to kiss me. I did want to see how hot we could be together. I wanted it more than I wanted to breathe, but he was crowding me.

  “Wait.” My heart started to race as dark memories surfaced.

  “Lift your chin,” he said, placing his palms against the wall on either side of my head, his body pressing mine harder into the boards behind me.

  “Stop.” I put my hands on his chest. The muscle beneath his cotton shirt was rock hard, and his heart raced within the cage of his chest just like mine did, but we were no longer in sync.

  “The lady said stop!”

  The unexpected boom of a familiar voice made my heart leap over its next beat and then start up again even faster. My hand went to my throat, my eyes widening as Diesel turned and Max stepped forward into the light.

  My bodyguard was back.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  * * *

  “Max,” I said, sliding away from the wall and moving toward him, even though he looked furious.

  “Hollie.” Diesel grabbed my hand.

  Snagged, I turned, dropping my gaze to stare down at his fingers gripping mine.

  “Let her go.” Max’s voice was barely a whisper over the wind, but it was enough, the promise of violence in his tone unmistakable.

  Lifting my head, I glanced back and forth between the two men.

  Max wore a white oxford, the sleeves rolled up, his forearms exposed, his hands curled into fists. Diesel’s biceps bulged outside his tank top. Both men had slits for eyes and mouths that were slashes of malice.

  Tension vibrated in the air, but I wasn’t frightened.

  Why?

  Before I could analyze it, Diesel spoke, his focus on me.

  “Her choice if she wants to go.” His grip remained firm, his dark gaze burning holes through my reason.

  No longer certain of my destination, I wavered between the two men.

  “Go away.” Diesel flashed his attention to my bodyguard. “She doesn’t need your protection. This is a private conversation. It doesn’t concern you.”

  “I’m not here as her bodyguard,” Max said. “I was invited as a friend.” Blue eyes like the ocean met mine and tugged as if he were the tide and I were a sandy shoreline.

  “What’s going on out here?” Ash stepped outside, Ramon and Linc flanking him.

  “Nothing,” I said, and Diesel dropped my hand.

  “Doesn’t look like nothing.” Ash raised his brows.

  I wanted to ask him where Fanny was and if she was okay, but I bit my tongue. I could lower the tension or increase it. This is my opportunity to distance myself from Fanny without raising her suspicion.

  “Diesel made a pass at me.” I forced tears into my eyes, and fear into my voice I no longer felt. “I told him to back off, but he wouldn’t. Max arrived just in time.”

  I threw myself at my bodyguard, the rogue wave returning to the safety of the shore. After only a moment’s hesitation, Max wrapped his strong arms around me, and I sighed with relief.

  “Holy shit, Le.” Ramon shook his head. “What the fuck is your problem?”

  “Got no problem,” Diesel said softly, his jaw flexing. “She does, though.” Moving closer to Max and me, he narrowed his eyes at both of us and scoffed. “Daddy issues. Obviously.”

  “Now, wait a minute.” Max’s warning rumbled against the cheek I had pressed to his chest.

  “Wasted enough time with her. This one’s yours to sort out. I’ve got a woman waiting for me. I’m not interested in a child.�
��

  At the door, the bassist stopped and lifted his chin. He stood tall and lean like a whip, a stark contrast to my bodyguard’s massive bulk, like a battering ram.

  “Step aside, Ash. Let me pass.”

  “Diesel—”

  “Do not give me shit.” The whip had quite a recoil. “Don’t want to fight you. Not over a fucking lie.”

  Looking worried, the drummer glanced from me, then back to his bassist and shifted. When Diesel stepped past, Ash returned his attention to me. “Hollie—”

  “I’m leaving. I need to. I don’t want to go over it all again. Maybe it was just a misunderstanding, but he makes me extremely uncomfortable. I just want to go home and forget this ever happened.”

  “All right.” Ash exhaled heavily. “I’ll get Fanny so you can say good-bye.”

  “No need.” I’d lose my nerve face-to-face with her. If I could even fool her.

  Ash’s lips thinned. “There is every need. You upset her. She went to a lot of trouble for you.”

  “I know that.” I shrank into Max, trembling for real. A guy as big as a Viking growling at me was intense.

  “Ash.” Linc elbowed him while staring at me. “Don’t be so hard on her. She’s young.”

  “Not so young.” The incensed drummer shook his head.

  “Everyone’s tired. It’s been a long day.” Ramon gestured over his shoulder. “Let’s go back inside. Say good-bye. Call it a night. It won’t seem like such a big deal tomorrow after we all get some rest.”

  The guitarist turned first, then Linc and Ash followed him.

  “Hold up.” Max snagged my hand, and I glanced down. His large hand engulfed my fingers just like Diesel’s had, though the two couldn’t have been more different in appearance and temperament. “I want to talk to you a moment.”

  “What is it?” I searched his eyes, the warmth in them reminding me, as if I could forget, why I’d gotten so addicted to him so fast.

  “Only this.” He captured both my hands, brought them up to his neck, then abandoned them to frame my face. “I missed you. Almost missed your birthday too.”