Seven Sleepless Nights

by Chloe Walsh

  The moment I stepped foot through the threshold of Tommen College, a scorching heat bubbled up inside of my stomach, so hot and putrid, that I felt like screaming at the top of my lungs for someone to save me.

  I wanted to fall on my knees and beg someone to put this fire out inside of me because I honestly didn’t think I could take much more, but I knew I wouldn't.

  I couldn't.

  So instead, I did what I always did; I turned that pain into poison, projected it at the one person I knew I could, and I kept moving.

  Kept walking.

  Kept living.

  For now.

  Pumping my MP3 player to the maximum volume, I drowned out the whispers and floating gossip with Boulevard of Broken Dreams.

  With my head held high, I walked down the hallways, ignoring everyone and everything in my path… that was until I turned the corner and locked eyes on him.

  His eyes landed on me, causing my feet to falter, and that's when it all started to unravel.

  Like every other morning, his arm was draped around her shoulders.

  He was laughing and joking with the enemy.

  He was the fucking enemy!

  Don’t look at him, I mentally commanded myself, but of course, I didn’t listen.

  No, instead I chose to stand there and watch the guilt flicker in his eyes – I chose to absorb the absolute regret etched on his face.

  Because of me.

  Because of us.

  Because of her.

  A warm hand clamped down on my shoulder then, pulling me backwards.

  Feeling too off kilter to be furious, I spun around and locked eyes on a pair of steely blue eyes.

  "Don’t do it," Patrick Feely warned, his intelligent eyes boring into mine. "Whatever scene you're planning on causing right now? It won't change anything. He won't leave her."

  Read more about Lizzie, Hughie,

  and the rest of the gang from Ballylaggin

  in the Boys of Tommen series,

  available now.

  6

  Wednesday

  Seattle, Washington

  Keira Bowe

  It totally blew that I couldn’t walk into my own kitchen to get a glass of water, without getting dry humped by a bunch of drunk groupies.

  You would have to admit that's a pretty crappy hand of cards for an eighteen-year-old; not being able to walk around her own home without the risk of being groped or having beer spilled on her shirt.

  Unfortunately, that was a typical, run of the mill, Saturday night in the Bowe household. I guess it was lucky for me that I had a high tolerance for assholes – and an even stronger stomach.

  Music was pumping from the living room downstairs – the band was on fire tonight. My older brother Danny and his three best friends that made up the band, Verbal Assault, were belting out rock anthem after rock anthem for their final shindig before the band hit the road tomorrow. The boys were heading for the Cali, leaving Washington behind them. Blink-182's Dammit was their current cover of choice and a huge hit with our peers – and the fangirls who were screaming at the top of their lungs.

  Gag.

  A little over an hour later, they finished their set, the crowd downstairs erupted in cheers, and the familiar sound of club beats coming from Jonas Cadashi's DJ decks filled my ears.

  Like every other time he'd entered my bedroom unannounced over the course of this summer, my stomach did the most deplorable somersault when he walked inside. He flicked the lock on my door, set his guitar case against the wall, and sauntered towards me.

  Riley Odell.

  Lead guitarist in Verbal Assault and my brother's best friend since freshman year. Oh, and the guy I had been fucking since prom. Yep, that's right. I gave it all up – v-card included – to a rocker who'd taken pity on me when my date bailed and accompanied me to my senior prom. That's exactly what I had done – and what I had continued to do every freaking night since.

  With shaggy, dirty blond hair, eyes the color of turquoise, and a body covered in tats that oozed sex appeal, my brother's bandmate was undeniably gorgeous. He was twenty-0ne like Danny, three years my senior, and the absolute wrong person for me to be lusting after.

  Tonight, he was dressed in his usual gig attire: faded denim jeans, a plain black tee, and his beige Timberlands, and the sight of him looking so damn fine made my clit throb.

  "Keira Bowe." The way he always called me by my full name, and the way my name curled on his lips, caused my breath to catch in my throat. His lips curved into a devilish smile.

  "Riley Odell," I replied, keeping my tone as nonchalant as possible, as I flicked through a magazine on my bed. "What can I do for you?"

  He stared at me for a long while before letting out a harsh breath. "I came to say goodbye." His voice was raspy and hoarse from the set. "I'm leaving with the band in the morning."

  Yeah, I already knew that and it made my chest hurt.

  It made me want to cry, actually.

  "Well, I hope you guys kill it on tour," I offered, trying so damn hard not to let my emotions come out. Because telling this boy that I had caught feelings this summer was not going to end well for me. I needed to keep my shit together and my business to myself.

  "You gonna miss me?"

  "Depends." I closed my magazine and flicked my gaze up to meet his, unable to mask my vulnerability this time – or the crack in my voice when I asked, "Are you gonna miss me?"

  Riley exhaled a pained sigh and then he was moving. Closing the space between us, he lowered himself down on my bed. "I'm gonna need you to stay out of trouble while I'm gone, pretty girl." His breath flooded my senses and I could practically taste the mint and alcohol on his tongue. "Can you do that for me?"

  Nodding sadly, I nuzzled my cheek against his shoulder. "I'm going to miss you. So much." It was the truth. "Don’t forget me when you're rich and famous."

  "Forget Keira Bowe?" He tipped my chin up, forcing me to look at him, his unusual bluish-green eyes locked on mine. "Not fucking possible."

  With a mixture of lust and longing coursing through my veins, I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my lips to his.

  The second our lips touched, a growl tore from the back of Riley's throat and my whole body ignited in fire – an aching of desperation thrummed low in my belly.

  "I need in, Keira," he growled against my lips. "One more night, baby." He kissed me harder, his tongue dueling with mine. "Say yes."

  There was only one response to his question and I was positive that it would break my heart. Still, I whispered the word, "yes," before leaning back and yanking my nightdress over my head.

  Shivering, I watched as Riley quickly removed his clothes before settling between my bare thighs. "You're so fucking beautiful," he whispered, eyes roaming over my bare skin. "I need in you so fucking bad, Keira."

  "Then be in me," I replied, breathless, as I lay beneath his powerful frame. Every groove and muscular indent on his body was carved to perfection and it hurt to think about the countless fangirls and groupies that would enjoy him once he walked out of my life tomorrow.

  "Please don’t forget me," I whispered, knowing that I was beginning to sound like a broken record, but unable to stop. It was important to me that he remembered us. Especially when I had a feeling that I would never get over the boy between my legs.

  He lowered himself on to me before promising, “I won’t. I’ll come home, Keira.” He slipped a hand between bodies and guided the head of his thick cock inside of me.

  "God," I moaned, clutching his broad shoulders as he filled me to the point of pain. "I feel so full."

  "When it's all over, I'll come home to you," he continued to whisper as he moved inside of me. "Where I belong."

  Years passed by and the boys were signed to Kristal Records Inc. Within eighteen months, the band exploded and the boys had officially hit the big time.

  Four years, two albums, and one world tour later, and they were burning out fast.

  Chri
s Dennison, the band's drummer, had to pull out of the last three shows of the tour and check into rehab for exhaustion – or so I had read.

  Chad Monroe – the so-called sensible band member – had flown straight back to Maine for divorce proceedings with the wife he had obtained during an alcohol-fueled binge in Vegas. Well that was one weekend that would cost him…

  Danny had placed a phone call last week to his only sibling, letting her know that he would be flying into Seattle on Wednesday, and wanted to lay low and hang with his baby sis for a few months while the band took a much-needed break from the road.

  What a crock…

  When I'd received the call, I'd been a little more than surprised considering I hadn’t seen my big brother since Mom's funeral the winter before last.

  Still, since Danny was all I had in the world that I could call family, and he had bought the house I was living in for me, I didn’t have much choice than to agree for him to come stay.

  The morning Danny was due to arrive, I cleaned the entire house from top to bottom. I even got down on my hands and knees and scrubbed the baseboards before laying out a vase of lilies on the lamp desk in the hallway.

  Call it a nervous trait, but when I was anxious, I cleaned. After I finished tidying up, I raced upstairs for a shower before dressing in my best jeans, my favorite white camisole, and my lucky beige cardigan.

  I blow-dried my waist length, black hair and then pulled it back into a ponytail. I didn’t bother with makeup, just a little concealer and lip-gloss, and of course my black frames perched on top of my nose.

  The thought of sharing my small, three-bedroom townhouse with the brother I hadn’t seen in two years caused the nervous fluttering in my stomach to multiply and spread until it felt like there was a swarm of bees inside of me.

  What would we talk about?

  Would it be awkward?

  Would he behave himself?

  Regardless of how different we were, Danny was on his way to my house for a prolonged stay.

  I hadn’t lived with my brother since I was eighteen and he moved out of our home and hit the road with the band, but I remembered his house parties and the women...

  I wasn’t a forward person, my friends called me a pushover, but I needed to lay down the rules when he arrived.

  I was twenty-two and this was my house – even if he had bought it for me.

  If Danny wanted to stay under my roof, he would have to obey those rules.

  Rule number one: no drugs.

  Rule number two: no smoking in the house.

  Rule number three: no sex in the kitchen.

  Rule number four: repeat first three rules.

  I shouldn't have worried because Danny never showed up like he said he would, and I really shouldn’t have been surprised. The guy had never been on time a day in his whole life.

  Disappointment flared inside of me and I felt like an idiot for cutting my afternoon classes to welcome home my prodigal brother.

  If I had known it would be this way, then I would've taken my best friend up on her offer of a vacation. That's where Macy was right now – partying it up on Myrtle Beach, sipping cocktails, and seducing the locals.

  I should be there with her, but ever-the-sensible-one, I'd passed up on the once in a lifetime offer, choosing to stay behind to welcome Danny home – and study for end of semester finals.

  My dreams of making a career for myself as a librarian kept me focused. It wasn’t the highflier lifestyle my rock star brother lived, but books were my passion.

  Besides, Danny and I had both promised Mom that we would follow our dreams. Raising us by herself when her loser husband walked out when I was a little over a month old, Mom had always instilled in both of us the importance of following our own paths in life.

  But I doubted Mom could have predicted her children would go in such different paths – a rock star and a librarian.

  It was almost laughable.

  It was late in the evening, after nine, when the doorbell finally rang.

  Startled and disorientated, I leapt up from where I'd been sprawled out on the couch, reading Nicole. S. Goodin's latest work of magic and raced for the front door ready to give that brother of mine a piece of my mind.

  Stalking into the hallway, I unlocked the front door and pulled it inwards, rearranging my reading glasses on my nose in the process. "You know you could have called me, jackass…" my words trailed off when my eyes landed on the man in front of me.

  "Oh shit," I whispered, heart hammering violently in my chest.

  "Keira Bowe," Riley purred with a smile. "It's been awhile."

  You're telling me. "Yeah." I blew out a shaky breath. "It has."

  "Are you going to invite me inside?"

  "Depends." Trembling, I clutched the door for all I was worth. "Are you going to tell me what you're doing here?"

  "Your brother called." Shrugging, he rubbed his stubbly jaw. "He invited me to stay with y'all while I was in town."

  Jesus Christ, Danny! "And how long do you plan on being in town for?"

  "Depends."

  "On what?"

  "On how long you want me to stay." His piercing eyes burned holes straight through me. "I wanna come home, Keira."

  "Home?"

  "Yeah." He nodded slowly. "To you."

  Well shit…

  Keira and Riley are a fresh, new couple.

  Their book has not been released yet.

  7

  Thursday

  Aspen, Colorado

  Hope Carter

  The date was set.

  The day of reckoning was upon us.

  It was actually happening.

  Derek Porter was getting married.

  To Karen Valentine.

  I couldn’t even count how many WTF's had floated through my mind since the news broke.

  That was enough to stun me into silence, but what really blew my mind was the fact that Hunter and I had received an invitation.

  Well, saying we had both received an invite was being a little optimistic.

  Every member of my father's family had been invited to attend, spouses and dates included, so I guess they kind of had to invite us.

  The pretty ivory card with laced edgings had stated, "Hope, Abigail, and him," but still, it was progress.

  I had no idea how to handle it.

  The ceremony was in a little over an hour away, and I was still sitting on the bed in our hotel suite, with my dress laid out, twiddling my thumbs and battling down a huge surge of butterflies.

  Should we go?

  Should we not?

  After a serious internal battle with myself, I settled on attending the wedding; knowing it was a big deal for them to invite us in the first place. It wouldn’t be easy, though.

  There were only three people on the entire planet who knew what happened that night – me, Jordan, and Hunter.

  None of my family knew.

  I never breathed a word to anyone – not even Teegs.

  Right or wrong, that was my choice and I planned on taking it to grave with me.

  The problem with keeping such a secret was the fact that neither my father nor Derek realized how dangerous it was to put these two men in the same state, let alone the same isolated ski-resort hotel in the middle of the mountains in Aspen.

  Oh boy…

  "Think you can manage not to kill each other for a couple of days for Derek's sake?" I heard my father say when I joined the rest of the guests in the main foyer who were waiting to be accompanied into the room the vows would take place in.

  My father looked as uncomfortable as I felt as his eyes flicked between my ex-husband and current, uh, Lucky. "Well?"

  Panic seizing my chest, my gaze darted to where Hunter was visibly bristling with tension.

  Like the role of a lifetime movie, he was playing the villain. I could see it in everyone's eyes. They weren't saying it, they didn’t dare, but they sure as hell were thinking it.

  He was my dirty little s
ecret.

  My affair.

  And the adorable baby he was holding in his arms?

  The one we'd conceived when I was still married to another man?

  Well, I was fairly certain that little girl was the only thing keeping Hunter from attacking.

  "You won't have any trouble from me," Jordan replied quietly, and he had the good grace to look ashamed.

  Nodding stiffly, Dad looked to me. "Hope?"

  Exhaling a ragged breath, I shrugged limply. "I, ah…no trouble from me."

  "Lucky?"

  "We'll see," Hunter finally replied, tone cool, blue eyes locked on Jordan. "I'm not making promises." Turning to Derek, he hissed, "Keep your boy away from my woman. That's your only warning."

  Oh boy.

  This was going to be a long week.

  "Can you just try and ignore him," I begged, voice hushed, as I struggled to balance our flailing daughter on my lap. "Please. It's over and done with."

  "Really fucking hard thing to do, HC," Hunter muttered, jaw clenched, eyes trained on the back of Jordan's curly head, "when my woman's rapist ex-husband is sitting four rows ahead of me."

  "We've been through this–" I began to say before Hunter cut me off.

  "I spared his life," he hissed, as a vein ticked in his neck. "So he could go. Not come the fuck back here and shit on my mercy!"

  Feeling panicked, I quickly thrust Abi into his arms, knowing Hunter would rather chew off his arm than cause distress to his little girl.

  "I'm yours," I whispered, leaning into his ear. "Then, now, and always."

  Turning to face me, Hunter cocked a brow. "Using our daughter as a shield?" A reluctant smirk spread across his face. "Low fucking blow, sweetheart."

  "I've got a pretty dress on, Hunter Casarazzi," I reminded him, gesturing to myself. "One I've worked my ass off to fit into, and I have no intentions of letting you get it splattered in blood."

  "That dress?" he purred, attention diverted to the lemon colored dress with a fitted corset I had on. "On your body?" His blue eyes danced with mischief. "Should be illegal." He shifted closer, and inclined his head towards my chest with a flirty wink. "Because the thoughts I'm having of you right now are fucking criminal, HC."