“Hey, wait, did you forget about me?” Ty was nearly out of breath when he got into the car. “Can I catch a ride?”
“Tyson, uh, uh I-I— I’m going home. I have a curfew.” I mentally thwacked my hand against my head, not wanting him to know that I was still some dumb high school kid for another month.
“Uhh, shoot. I had this great idea to ride home with you, Zoey. Maybe you’ll give me your number and we can hang out sometime.” Ty gave me a side look, his hair flopping over his eyes. “That’s not a line. It’s just what I hope will happen.”
My smile stretched from ear to ear, and it felt like a thousand butterflies had been released from the top of my head. Holy shit, this was like a movie. Determined not to blow it again, I scooted over and patted the seat. Ty slid in next to me, pressing his long, lean thigh against mine in the tiny back seat of the car. He turned toward me and grinned, just a hint of white teeth peeking through his full lips. I turned toward him, my smile widening even more. The car sped off and I couldn’t help but get lost in the depths of his piercing, blue eyes.
Crap, this guy’s gonna break my heart.
I pushed the thought aside, beamed at him like a fool, and heard myself saying, “Pretty good comeback, rocker-boy.”
Chapter 2
TYSON
The same night
“Dude, are you ready?” Zane put his arm around me, gauging my nervousness. He was always making sure I felt comfortable, knowing that I hadn’t fallen into this lead-singer gig willingly. Tonight, after all, was a huge night for all of us.
“I’m so ready.” I shook out my hair after finishing my standard pre-show vocal warm-ups. “This is so fucking awesome, have you seen the crowd?”
For once, I was as exhilarated and giddy to go onstage as my bandmates. I didn’t have an ounce of the usual pre-show jitters. Crammed into the small closet next to the stage that The Mission had designated its “green room,” this was our biggest night as a band. Something in my gut told me this was the show that would change my life.
Connor, our big, burly bass player finished changing a string that had busted right before we were meant to start and was now tuning his bass. “Sorry, guys.” He looked up from his instrument, his eyebrows still furrowed in concentration of the task he’d just completed. “It’s fixed.”
Jace, filming us with his camera phone, spoke directly to our Facebook Live audience. “And that, folks, is how you miss your set time for only the biggest show of your life!” He had a funny way of capturing us all on his social media videos, while remaining relatively anonymous himself.
“Fuck off, Deveraux,” growled Connor as he pushed the camera out of his way.
“Okay, okay!” I held up my hand to get everyone’s attention. “Knock it off. Tonight is going to kick ass. We’ve worked hard and now after two years of playing every coffee shop, house party, and dive bar in Seattle, we are finally playing a sold-out, headlining gig at The Mission in front of five hundred people. We’ve got this!”
“Fuck yeah!” Zane bopped up and down excitedly. Holding his fist out toward the group of us he shouted, “Fist pump!”
Obligingly, we all held out our fists and knocked knuckles before Connor stalked through the door and headed up the stairs to the stage. Jace followed right behind him. Finally, Zane laughed and saluted me as he bounded to his place onstage. When Connor and Jace were in place, they gave Zane a nod. Legs spread wide, our brilliant guitarist struck a chord before shredding into the mind-blowing intro to a new song called Catatonic.
I became a little emotional while waiting for my cue. It truly did feel like my life was about to change when I watched my band-brothers start the show. The crowd was going mental. I could hear them screaming my name, which still freaked me out a bit. All I ever wanted was out there on the stage. Within my grasp. Tonight was my ticket out. My way to turn my life around from being the shy, nerdy loser I’d been not that long ago.
Singing, playing guitar, and songwriting were permanently in my blood, which meant things were different now. As a member of a popular band, I’d slowly gotten used to the fact that we represented a certain rock-star fantasy to our followers. A captivating stage presence and tons of social interaction with fans were mandatory in my own role as the lead singer. None of it came easy to me. It had also taken a long time for me to come to terms with the fact that good business decisions mattered almost as much as talent if you wanted to succeed.
And I had no choice but to succeed. Music and my band were all I had. My only hope of breaking free from my fucked-up home life was if LTZ made it big.
Taking a deep breath, I heard Zane play my cue. Determined to secure a future for myself and my band, it was time to up my game and embrace my role. I was the lead singer of fucking Less Than Zero. I would put on a show that blew the faces off our fans, both at the club and on our YouTube live-stream.
When I took the stage, I could feel the crowd humming with anticipation. This buoyed my confidence, I felt energized and alive. Giving it everything, I wailed and thrashed around the stage, singing my heart out and feeding off the energy of everyone who sang the words to our songs with me. Mind-blowing. I was so pumped with adrenaline, I made it my goal to own each and every person in the audience.
Halfway into the third song, like a powerful magnet, my eyes snapped to a pint-sized beauty in the second row with a mane of the most beautiful long, sun-kissed hair that cascaded in waves and framed the milky, smooth skin on her angelic face. Her huge hazel eyes were kind and confident, her full lips begged to be kissed. She wore some sort of cut-out Van Halen shirt and black skinny pants, and the luscious curves on her stunning body made me salivate. She wasn’t posing or pouting, she didn’t try hard at all.
She was the most jaw-dropping woman I’d ever laid eyes on.
Observing her swaying, almost hypnotized to our music, sent a bolt of lightning into my heart. She was lost to the beat, her glossy, pink lips mouthing some of the words. Every fiber of my being wanted to jump off the stage and kiss her senseless. For now, all I could do was try to catch her eye. Make a connection. So I sang directly to her with every ounce of emotion I possessed, hoping to get her to look at me, even if just for a second.
As if she read my mind, her gaze locked with mine and it was all over. Adorably, she blushed when she caught me singing to her, glancing to her right and left as though she couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t look away. I willed her to look back at me with every trick in the book, using my eyes, voice, and body language. Every now and then, I’d hit the jackpot when I’d catch her peering at me from under her lashes. Just for a moment. She always quickly averted her gaze to shyly share secret smiles with her tall friend.
We played for nearly two exhilarating hours, ending with two encores. After we finally left the stage, watching from behind the curtain, I kept my eye on my wild-haired blonde crush. She and her friend skipped out toward the front of the club with the crowd when it dissipated. They talked animatedly with a group of people who were filming them with their phones. Her mass of hair cascaded around her face when she gestured with an exaggerated rock horn sign and rolled her eyes at the camera. I was fully smitten, a sensation I’d never experienced. Wanting her made me feel brave.
She was so incredibly beautiful, like a butterfly made of all the colors in the world. Yet she wasn’t showy at all. Her demeanor was, well . . . settled. Grounded. She seemed genuine and comfortable in her skin, unlike the women who usually threw themselves at me. Unlike me, truth be told.
My heart raced when she glanced back toward the stage where the band was starting to pack up our gear and sign autographs. For the first time in my entire complicated life, things were simple. She was meant for me. No matter what my insecurities were, I wouldn’t risk not seeing her again.
“Ty, you remember Fiona.” Zane interrupted my thoughts. He had his arm around the dark-haired, pixie-like daughter of Gus Reynolds, the owner of The Mission. “Fiona Reynolds, this is Tyson Rainier.”
Fiona struggled halfheartedly to unwind herself from Zane. “Nice to see you again, Tyson. Will I settle up with you?”
“You’re breaking my heart, Fee.” Zane reached for her hand to pull her to the office. “You’ll settle up with me!”
Jace shook his head, his tattooed arm lazily draped around Cassie, a pretty redhead who always wore a low-cut top and too much makeup. She looked at him adoringly, but he arched his eyebrow disinterestedly and stared out into the crowd where I had been fixated. “Who was that girl you were singing to?”
“Um, I dunno, but I want to go talk to her before she leaves.” I tried to sound nonchalant.
Connor lurked behind us, huge, muscled and menacing, his penetrating glare directed at me. “My dude, for the love of God, please be chill.”
“It’s a lost cause, Connor.” Jace untangled himself from Cassie. “But if Ty is going make a move on a pretty girl, I’m not standing in his way.”
“Fuck you.” I flipped him off. “I’m not that bad.”
“Uh, yeah you are,” Connor deadpanned. Jace’s sister Jen, who Connor had been dating for years guffawed at his comment.
As we gained bigger audiences in Seattle, women and men pursued us relentlessly, which made me uncomfortable. Not because they were interested, that part was flattering. More like, as my bandmates all knew, I had less-than-zero game when it came to romance. Hence, the backstory of how they originally chose our band name. A joke on me, which was true. And funny.
The truth was, I’d indulged in an easy hookup once or twice to take the edge off, especially if I’d had a few beers. But no matter how humbling it was to have the attention, for many reasons I lived by my own strict principles that were not necessarily befitting a rising rock star. One of which was that I didn’t hit on random women. Ever.
Until now, it seemed. Fueled on endorphins from the life-changing show, I was determined to embrace my fate. There was something about the little blonde beauty, almost like we were both meant to meet in this place at the same time. My heart was thundering in my chest when I approached her and the friend, both of their eyes went wide with surprise as I neared. Once I was close enough, it took all my willpower to resist burying my nose in the crook of my crush’s neck to breathe in her delicious scent of flowers and oranges.
Of course, Jace had called it. When I attempted to talk to her, I sounded like a cheesy asshole and I nearly aborted the operation completely. Thank God, Connor had kept an eye on me, saw me struggling, and texted me at exactly the right time. I was able to make up an excuse to calm my nerves and regroup. It had been such an epic night, when I charged into the Uber like a bull in a china shop, I was determined to get a date with the beautiful Zoey.
As we headed to her house, my confidence and adrenaline evaporated. I had no idea what the fuck I was doing. Covering up my self-loathing by grinning and feigning confidence, I couldn’t help but wonder if she still thought I was a typical arrogant dickhead musician trying to get into her pants for the night. Fuck. I vowed never to act that way, and I had no idea how to change her perception. So I did nothing.
“I will literally be killed if I miss curfew again, and killed and dismembered if I bring a guy they have never met home at midnight.” Zoey’s sweet voice reminded me where I was.
“Uh, um, well, I hadn’t thought that far. I sort of panicked when I saw that you were leaving without me getting your deets.” I could not control my own word vomit.
“You panicked?” Her eyebrows rose high on her forehead.
“Yeah, I kind of panicked!”
“Um, okay?”
The seconds ticked by awkwardly.
“Zoey, can I get your number?” I blurted out suddenly, thrusting my phone at her.
“Um. Okay.” She typed in her number quickly and handed it back to me, watching me read what she’d typed.
“Why Z not Zoey?” I clicked dial and she picked up.
“You’re clearly gonna be a huge rock star, it won’t be good for your stud reputation to have a bunch of girl’s names in your contacts. Better to be stealth.” She sank back in the seat and saved my number into her own contacts.
“I’m not that way, I don’t ask for numbers. I can promise you that.” She blinked, her long lashes, dark against her gorgeous hazel eyes. I was overwhelmed by how beautiful this girl was. “God, you’re so fucking gorgeous. Your eyes are amazing.”
“Wow, thank you. You’re fucking gorgeous too.” The sides of her lips quirked up.
“Oh, what’s your Instagram? My band’s really into social.” I handed my phone back to her.
She grasped it in her tiny, perfect hand, nails painted shiny black, and pulled up her Instagram and clicked follow. “Why me? You could have anyone you wanted, you are—”
“Into you. Big time. I’m pretty sure you’ve ruined me for anyone else,” I cut her off with another cheesy line.
God I’m so bad at this.
Trying to recover, I took my phone back and glanced at her Instagram account, which had a fresh post of her with the rock horns.
“Zoey Pearson, huh? Cute video.” I smiled and reached over to gently tuck a piece of wild blonde hair behind her ear. “How old are you anyway, Zoey Pearson?”
“Seventeen,” she sighed, sucking on her lower lip, which sent electric currents straight to my groin. “I’ll be eighteen in two weeks. How old are you?”
“Twenty-one,” I sighed back and inwardly groaned. Damn. She was too young. We sat in silence for a minute.
“Hmm, that scared look on your face says everything,” she sort of questioned, one eyebrow raised. “You think I’m too young.”
“Maybe. A little bit. I mean, you’re a lot younger than me. I wouldn’t ever take advantage of you, so I guess we could be friends. I’m not a creeper.”
Fuck.
“You want to be friends? Or FWB?” Zoey’s sweet, melodic voice teased. “Seriously, I don’t think you’re a creeper, Ty. My folks will probably be cool, it’s only a couple of weeks and I’m going to college in a couple of months.” She smiled and tentatively reached down and traced the top of my hand. “I’d really like to hang out with you. Do you genuinely want to hang out with me?”
“I really do.” Staring at where she was tracing, I turned my hand over and marveled at how little she was compared to me, her fingers only reached the first digit of mine. Clasping our fingers together, I held her hand tightly as I sank farther into the seat and grinned like an idiot. As scared as I was earlier, the thing between us was easy and comfortable, yet crackling with electricity. I felt like I had known her for a long time, not just for an hour. “Hopefully once you get to know me, you won’t find me too boring.”
“Oh my God, are you kidding me? You’re already the least boring person I’ve ever met. I can’t even believe you’re here with me right now. LTZ has thousands of fans because your music is so badass. Exceedingly badass.” She looked at me with that one eyebrow raised again, so adorable. “But, in case I wasn’t clear at the club, I’m not a band groupie type, so if this is some sort of conquest game you’re playing, I’m not your girl.”
Watching her as she was animatedly speaking, I saw myself through her eyes and I liked being that man for her. Plus, the groupie comment was music to my ears.
“Zoey, I’m going to confess something to you.” I took a deep breath. “I know I was just on stage, but it’s probably pretty apparent that I’m, well, socially awkward when I’m not singing and playing music.”
“No way. C’mon, you had so many women waiting for you after the show, you could have had anyone.” Zoey cocked her head, looking at me intently, which should have made me even more nervous, but instead it felt very playful and flirty.
“Lovely Zoey, I sang to you the entire show, and you barely even looked at me. You were dancing a
nd into the music, and my God—look at you—I had to meet you, even if I was petrified,” I explained as honestly as I could, hoping I didn’t sound pathetic while she considered what I was saying. “Music is the one thing I can do really well. I’m shit at talking to pretty girls.”
My mind felt like a rapid-fire machine gun of competing thoughts as I looked at her, my eyes searching hers. Did she feel what I felt? Should I kiss her or abort the mission? God, she smelled amazing.
I squeezed my eyes closed and took a deep breath. My life depended on being in the recording studio all summer and touring during the fall and winter to build up our fan base. It was the worst timing ever to start something up with Zoey. A friggin’ high school girl. Despite what my head was saying, the unexplained deep gut feeling that I could see into her soul and she could see into mine was so overwhelming and powerful, the next thing I knew my lips were firmly pressed against hers.
She hummed against my mouth and kissed me back. Holy shit, did she kiss me back. Encouraged, I deepened our kiss and our tongues touched tentatively. I buried my hands in her mane of hair and held her face, my thumbs stroked her cheeks. She opened her mouth farther and we explored, stroked, and tasted each other. Kissing her was everything, and it was like nothing I’d ever experienced. She mewled like a kitten stretching against me, gripping my biceps and then melting fully into my side. I delicately tasted all around her lips, our mouths opening hungrily, tongues colliding again, dancing and swirling until time disappeared.
A kiss for the ages.
The Uber arrived at her house, we reluctantly pulled apart, panting. Her eyes opened slowly in a passionate haze. Every one of my body parts was charged, my heart pounded, my jeans were tight with arousal. Her lips were swollen from our passion. With my shit background, not in a million years had I ever believed in love at first sight. At that moment not only did I believe, but I knew I would do anything for her. Anything she ever asked of me.
LIMITLESS: A Less Than Zero Rockstar Romance: Book 2: Jace & Alex Page 31
