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Voice rough and sensuous.

Hair this mess of brown and dark blonds, longer on the top and cropped at the sides, the longer pieces flopping all over the place. When he tilted his head, the locks fell to brush along the most striking, defined jaw she’d ever seen, cheeks cut in the same severe fashion.

But his lips…his lips were full and lush and pink where they caressed up close to the mic like he was whispering to a lover.

Violet’s heart went pounding an extra beat, her stomach flutterin’ as a rush of butterflies flapped their wings.

He was a little rough and a lot sexy and she was sure she felt her knees knock in a steady drum of want.

A hand was suddenly waving in her face. She jerked her attention to the side to Lily who was laughing at her. “Oh my god. And here I would have thought my baby sister would be the last one to go fangirl on me.”

Frowning, Violet fought the overpowering urge to look back at the stage and instead stared down her sister. “What are you talking about?”

“Um…the fact you’ve got drool running down your chin.”

Violet smacked her sister’s hand away when she reached out to show proof. “I do not. Don’t be ridiculous. I was just checkin’ out who we’re seeing play tonight.”

“Checkin’ out, is right.”

Violet rolled her eyes. Yeah, her and every other girl in the place.

The man had an aura that flooded the air and seeped to the floor.

Overwhelming.

Captivating.

Entrancing.

He had a way that made every person there feel as if he were looking at them, because Violet was sure she could feel him watching her. Watching as she took a seat at the table with Lily’s friends.

As hard as she tried, she couldn’t stop herself from watching him back.

Because there was no possible way that he was actually staring at her.

No way his gaze was lingering every time it passed over the crowd.

No way the lyrics from the song he sang about aching to get lost in a beautiful girl were meant for her that night.

No way that she wasn’t being completely delusional when she imagined the connection that strung taut between them.

A chord that resonated.

No way.

Their music was this clash of country and rock, an almost-indie vibe that strummed of aching need, a mesh of something seductive and dark mixed with a stunning hope.

She thought it might be the best thing she’d ever heard, and then she had to question if it wasn’t infatuation.

She figured this was exactly how groupies were made.

No, thank you. Not that she could make it through the barricade of women who were right up-front vying for his attention, anyway, even if she wanted to, which she most definitely did not.

Whatever the riot going down in her belly stood for could easily be ignored.

Right?

Still, she itched. Drawn. Her eyes locked on a man she’d never seen before.

Right before the band’s set was coming to an end, she forced herself over to the bar to get refills on their drinks.

Needing a distraction.

A diversion from drooling all over a stranger like some kind of wannabe fangirl, just like her sister had said.

Because seriously, what was wrong with her?

The band shouted goodnight to a thunder of applause.

Turning her back to it, she rested her forearms on the bar and waited for her turn. Canned music started to blare over the speakers again, the DJ striking up the dance floor.

“What can I get for you?” the bartender pretty much mouthed since it was so loud, and Violet popped onto her toes so she could shout her order over the volume.

“A pitcher of margaritas, please.”

That was when she felt the stir beside her, the shift in the air, the awareness that whisked like a flashfire across her skin.

Heart stalling out, she glanced to her left at the man standing beside her.

His tattooed forearms were on the bar, and he grinned soft, eyes the color of a tranquil meadow tracing her face like he’d felt it, too.

“Hi,” he said.

And she whispered, “No way.”NineRichardA fist rapped at the bathroom door.

“Occupied,” I grumbled low while I ran the towel over my face and down my chest, steam coating my skin and filling the air with mist and heat.

One thing about staying at my parents’ was there was pretty much zero privacy. Everyone living on top of each other. But it was a small price to pay.

Being near when everything felt so precarious.

Ground unsteady and the world unsettled.

My mind this jumbled mess, torn between the penalty I had to pay and wanting to go straight to Violet and drop to my knees. Beg her for forgiveness when I knew there wasn’t any to be had.

That adorable face flashed through my mind. My guts clutched in shame. In regret and this loyalty that ran like fermented poison through my veins. A corruption that smoldered and ulcerated.


Tags: A.L. Jackson Falling Stars Romance