Reckless Invitation (The Reckless Rockstar Series) Read online

  “I’m sorry,” I say.

  “That’s the thing.” He scrubs a hand across his stubble. “You shouldn’t have to be.”

  I put my head back on his chest like it was before. “It’s okay, Liam.”

  “Nothing about this is okay. It can never be more than this, El.”

  I’m careful not to touch him where I shouldn’t. “Then this will have to be enough.”

  His chest rises sharply and then falls, his heavy breath displacing the hair on top of my head. “Until it isn’t.”

  Tears roll down the side of my face and drop on his chest. I wonder if he can feel the wetness through his shirt.

  We lie like that for hours. And I fall asleep in his arms.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Liam

  Thirteen years ago

  Luke leaves me by Uncle Dirk’s pool and heads to the house.

  “Where are you going? You’re the one who asked Mom to drop us here.”

  “I have to use the bathroom.”

  “Pee in the pool. We do it all the time.”

  He shakes his head. “Not this time.”

  I laugh. “Oh, you have to go number two.”

  He looks sad. Maybe he’s tired from last night. I’m tired too, because I sat outside his door and listened for hours, wondering if he was mad at me.

  “Liam, I want you to know …” He stops talking and looks like he’s about to cry—but he’d never cry in front of me, he’s too big for that.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Nothing. Just … you’re a good brother, is all.”

  I smile, finally feeling like maybe he’s not mad at me after all. “You’re a good brother, too.”

  I work on perfecting my cannonball. I’ll never be as good as Luke. He’s a lot bigger than I am.

  Aunt Sylvia appears when I surface after a really good one. “Hey there, Liam. Do you and Luke want to stay for dinner, or did your mom leave something at the house?”

  I try and remember what Mom said but can’t. “I think we can stay. What are you having?”

  “Helen said she’d make your favorite.”

  “Cheeseburgers?”

  “You betcha.”

  “We’re definitely staying.”

  “Good. I’ll go let her know. When’s your dad coming back?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “I’ll bet you’ll be excited to have him home.”

  I think about everything that happened last night. I thought I would be happy to have him back. Now, though, I’m not so sure. I’m all mixed up. He’s my dad, and I love him, but a part of me thinks something is wrong, especially after Luke cussed at me. It scared me. But worse, he looked scared. My stomach is in knots. “Yeah,” I say, because I’m sure it’s what she expects.

  I sit on the edge of the pool for a long time. Where is Luke? The sun starts to set, and there’s a chill in the air. I wrap up in a towel when I see Uncle Dirk walking toward me.

  “Where’s your brother? Dinner’s almost ready.”

  I shrug. “He went to use the bathroom, but that was a while ago. Maybe he’s sick. I don’t think he’s feeling well.”

  “Great. That’s all I need, someone making me sick.”

  A loud popping sound draws our attention to the house. I look at Dirk to ask him what it was, but he’s as white as a ghost.

  He touches my shoulder. “Stay put.”

  He runs up the path to the house, almost tripping a few times on the stones. I’ve never seen Dirk move that fast before, so of course I get up and follow him. At the door, I dry off quickly, knowing how he hates us tracking wet footprints on the hardwood floors. I hear screaming like I’ve never heard. High-pitched, bloodcurdling screams, like in the movies. I’m scared, so I slowly walk toward them.

  Someone races into Uncle Dirk’s study. One of his security guys, I think. A moment later, he brings Helen and Aunt Sylvia into the hallway. He points at me. “Keep him out of here.”

  Helen runs the other way down the hall, crying out in Spanish the whole time. Aunt Sylvia drops to her knees in front of me and wraps me in a hug. She keeps murmuring something about how sorry she is. Sorry for what?

  I hear sirens. “Where’s Luke?”

  Dirk appears in the doorway. He shakes his head at Sylvia, and she covers her mouth and sobs. “Go open the front door for them. Then take Liam into the kitchen and stay there until I come for you.”

  Aunt Sylvia drags me to the door and props it open. A police car and an ambulance pull into the driveway. “Come quickly,” she says and takes me to the kitchen.

  “Why are the police here? Where’s Luke? Is he in trouble? Why is there an ambulance?”

  She points to a chair at the table. “Sit. I’ll make you something to eat.”

  “Aunt Sylvia, why are you crying?”

  She looks up at the ceiling and says something about God and strength.

  A man appears. I’ve seen him on the grounds. “Mrs. Campbell, you’re needed in the front hallway. I’ll stay with the boy.”

  “I was going to feed him.”

  “I’ll find something for him,” he says.

  I get up to follow her. The man holds me back. “Stay here, son. Someone will be in soon to talk to you.”

  “Do you know what’s going on?” I ask. “Everyone was yelling and crying. Is this about my brother? Have you seen him? Did he get sick?”

  “I don’t know anything.” He opens the refrigerator. “Do you like turkey? I can make you a sandwich.”

  I don’t feel like eating, but I nod. I watch the door Sylvia went through, knowing something must have happened to Luke. Something bad.

  Chapter Thirty

  Ella

  That’s it. They’re finished. They’ve given their last performance. Sung their final song. I sit in the audience at the naval station, already in mourning that it’s over.

  It’s over for me, but not for Reckless Alibi. Their lives will soon change forever. Their songs are streaming all over social media. Online fan groups are forming. Radio stations across the country are playing their tunes.

  The usual autograph and picture session after the gig is short. Women in the military don’t fawn and grope them like the regular fans. Bruce packs up quickly, and we all pile into the van. Jeremy gives him the name of a bar. “Drinks are on me tonight,” he says.

  Bria is surprised. “You’re coming with us, Jeremy?”

  “It’s our last night. We should celebrate.”

  Bria sits next to me in the van. “I’m going to miss this.”

  “I’m sure you’ll be going on more tours,” I say.

  “I’m not talking about the tour. I’m talking about you. It’s been fun having another woman around. Sometimes it’s hard being the only girl in all this testosterone.”

  “I’ll miss it, too. You’ve become a real friend, Bria.”

  “That’s not going to end tomorrow. We all live in the city. We can still hang out.” She glances at Liam. “And since I’ll be living in the same apartment he is, I’m sure we’ll see a lot of each other.”

  Like everyone else, Bria assumes Liam and I are a thing.

  “You’re all still going to live together?” I glance at her engagement ring. “Even now?”

  “We signed a year’s lease. We move in next week.”

  “I’m sure you can get out of it.”

  “It’s okay. I love these guys. I think it will be fun.” Garrett farts loudly, and Bria wrinkles her nose. “For a while anyway.”

  “If you ever need to get away, you can always come over to my place.”

  “Girls’ night,” she says. “I’d like that.”

  “Me too.”

  We pull up to the bar, and the van empties. Even Bruce and Tom join us. Shortly after we’re seated, a few bottles of expensive champagne are brought to the table.

  Brad’s eyes widen, and he turns to Jeremy. “I’m glad you’re buying.”

  “You won’t blink an eye at things like this so
on.” He passes a glass to each of us. “A toast to a successful tour. I just heard from Ronni. Record sales are up three hundred and fifty percent in the past six weeks.” Boisterous cheers issue from everyone at the table. Before we can drink, Jeremy stops us. “There’s more.” He gives us a brilliant grin. “Reckless Alibi has broken into the top one hundred.”

  Stunned faces and gaping jaws ensue.

  “What song?” Liam asks.

  “‘On That Stage’ is number ninety-two,” he says, raising his glass.

  Bria and Crew look at each other and scream. Everyone else joins in.

  “Things are about to be a lot different for you when we get home,” Jeremy says. “Get ready. You’re about to live the life of rock stars.”

  ~ ~ ~

  It’s the dead of night, but neither of us is sleeping. He’s still, but I’ve learned to tell by his breathing when he’s awake. I turn toward him and see his eyes in the bright moonlight.

  “Can’t sleep either, huh?” he asks.

  “No. Are you sad because the tour is over?”

  “A little, but that’s not why I can’t sleep.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  He hesitates. He always hesitates when I ask him about such things. “Today is Luke’s birthday. He would have been twenty-seven.” After a long pause, he goes on to say, “I wonder a lot what he would have been like as an adult.”

  “He’d probably still be your annoying big brother.”

  He laughs sadly. “He was never annoying. I think he was the only one who looked out for me.”

  “You were lucky to have him.”

  “I was.” His voice cracks.

  “He would have been proud of you.”

  He turns onto his back. “He shot himself. That’s how he died.”

  I’m confused. I thought he told me it was his dad’s fault that Luke died. Maybe it was his gun or something. I get out of bed and crawl into Liam’s. I put my head on his chest. “You were eleven. I can’t imagine how it must have felt to lose him. I’m so sorry.”

  He caresses my arm. “I lied. I’m not sad because the tour is over.”

  “You’re going to miss me.” I feel him swallow and nod. I lift my head. “Kiss me.”

  This time I don’t have to beg. As he kisses me, he pulls me on top of him. His erection grows beneath me. I grind my groin into his, causing the most pleasurable friction. My sleep shirt rides up and only my panties and his boxer briefs are between us. It’s the closest we’ve ever been. Oh, how I want him inside me.

  He rolls me off him. “Go back to bed.”

  “It’s our last night, Liam. I want you to touch me. I want to touch you.”

  He shakes his head with a sharp jerk. “No.”

  I sit up. “Remember when you showed me how to play the guitar? My hand was on top of yours as you created the chords. What if I could touch you like that? Do you think that would be okay?”

  He gets on an elbow. “You want to put your hand on mine while I get myself off?”

  “If my hand was on yours, I’d be helping you do it, but I wouldn’t be touching you. That’s allowed, right?”

  His head falls back. He’s thinking about it.

  “Trust me,” I say. “I won’t do anything more.”

  He exhales noisily. “Sometimes when you trust people, they hurt you.”

  My heart breaks for him. “I’m not people, Liam. I’m me.”

  I fear he’s going to say no, so I push my panties aside and put his hand on me. I put my finger on top of his and then put it on my clit. I rub it around. I guide his finger through my wetness. It feels good to have his hand on me.

  “Ella. Jesus.”

  “I want you, Liam. Any way I can have you.”

  “Fuck.” He stares at me for a moment, my eyes are half-open by the feel of his touch. “You first.”

  I remove my hand from his and take off my shirt. His mouth is on my breast before my shirt even hits the floor. He sucks my nipple into his mouth and releases it with a ‘pop.’ He licks it, teases it, traces it, then moves to the other one.

  I’m writhing, trying to remember not to touch him, but my need for him is extreme. When he slips a finger inside me, I moan. He crooks it, finding the precise spot that drives me insane. My hips rise off the bed. His thumb is on my clit and bolts of electricity shoot through me. I sigh and moan and twist and explode all at once. “Oh, God,” I shout.

  He doesn’t relent until I go completely lax. “Holy shit, El.” He looks at me in awe.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “I’ve never seen it happen like that.”

  “You’ve never made a woman orgasm?”

  “I’ve heard it, I’ve felt it, but I’ve never seen it.”

  Heat flames across my face. “You were watching me?”

  He brushes a chunk of hair out of my eyes. “It was incredible.”

  His hardness is against my thigh. “Now you.”

  He stiffens. “I’m not sure I can.”

  “Show me how you do it.”

  He snickers coyly. “After what just happened, I doubt I’ll last very long.”

  “Show me, Liam.”

  He takes off his skivvies. In the dim light, his penis springs up tall and proud. I have to keep myself from reaching out. We’ve come this far. I can’t ruin it now.

  He takes hold of himself, and my insides quiver. I’ve never watched a man do this. We’re naked on his bed, and he’s stroking himself up and down. I can see out of the corner of my eye that he’s looking at me. Does he have any idea how incredibly turned on I am right now? I swear I can feel another orgasm building and he’s not even touching me.

  His breathing quickens. “El.”

  Is he going to let me do it or just finish on his own? I hold out my hand where he can see it, then slowly move until it hovers over his. “I want to make you feel like you made me feel, Liam. Can I?”

  He stops, and I think that’s it. We’re not going any further. But then he closes his eyes and nods.

  I don’t want his eyes closed. I don’t know exactly what his dad did to him, but I sure as hell don’t want him seeing his dad behind his eyelids. He has to know it’s me. He has to know it’s safe.

  “Open your eyes,” I say.

  He looks at my face, then down. I gently place my hand over his. He’s gone flaccid. He’s probably terrified if what I think is true and the only person who’s ever touched him before was his father.

  I put his other hand between my legs, showing him how turned on I am. He strokes himself again. I don’t grip him hard. I let my hand ride lightly on top of his. He thickens again.

  I think he’s amused that he’s hard. He works himself faster. I have to tighten my grip a little to keep up. While I’ve given my fair share of hand jobs, none have ever been this intimate. This meaningful.

  He stiffens. I can tell he’s close. He gazes at me with half-closed eyes.

  “That’s it,” I say, wanting it to be my voice that pushes him over.

  His hips buck a few times, then he grunts loudly and stills, hot come spurting over our hands.

  I lie down beside him, wiping my hand on the sheet. His lips are pursed. He breathes in and out heavily. His hand falls limp on the bed.

  He turns his head toward me and smiles.

  I bask in the feel of victory. This may have been the oddest sexual experience I’ve ever had, but I get the feeling it might have been the most normal one for him. In time maybe we can learn to meet somewhere in the middle.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Liam

  As the sun rises and shines through the window, I gaze at her sleeping next to me. I haven’t gotten a lick of shuteye. At first, her head was on my chest. Then she fell asleep and rolled off sometime early. When it happened, I missed her. She was six inches away, but I missed her. She looked so peaceful. She always looks peaceful. It amazes me how some people have such normal lives that they can just sleep.

  I haven’t
had a decent night’s sleep in thirteen years.

  Today is Luke’s birthday. I should be remembering him, but all I can think about is how she had her hand on mine. Through all the years and all the women, nobody ever suggested doing it that way. Then again, I’ve never let anyone get as close to me as Ella. I can’t imagine many women wanting to put up with my deep layers of shit. Why does she? I know she’s not in it because of the band. Or the potential for fame and fortune—that’s not her. What’s so goddamn special about a kid from Stamford who’s so fucked up he can barely see straight? She could have so much more.

  Her eyes open sleepily and her lips form into a lazy smile. “Morning,” she mumbles.

  “Good morning.”

  She scoots closer but doesn’t touch me. “Last night was—”

  “Fucking strange.”

  Her smile falls.

  I lift on an elbow. “I mean, it was okay, but strange.”

  “I don’t want to push you to do anything you don’t want to, Liam.”

  My head falls back on the pillow. “That’s what guys usually say to girls. This is so messed up.”

  She reaches for my hand. “I like being with you. If a little strange goes along with that, I’m okay with it.”

  “Why, El? Why in the hell would a girl like you ever want to be with a guy like me?”

  “Are you asking me why I like you?”

  “I guess I am.”

  “I once heard someone say we don’t choose who we fall, um … like.”

  I sit up and turn away. That’s not what she was going to say. Fuck. I run a hand through my hair and swing my legs off the bed.

  “Liam.” Her hand touches my back, and I flinch. She immediately removes it.

  “I don’t know what you think is happening here, but you can’t fix me, Ella. No one can.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Is that why you like me? You see me as some kind of project? Something broken in need of fixing?”

  “Of course not.”