The last year had been an up and down struggle for him. Meeting his perfect other half, screwing it up, and going through rehab to get his shit together so he could feel worthy of Lana. And now he was doing a job that I knew he hated because it put him in the spotlight. There was a reason why Drake wasn’t the frontman and instead was just the guy with the killer guitar skills, and being front and center was it.
I thanked all the gods that Emmie prayed to everyday that my brother hated that kind of attention. If he didn’t he could easily leave Demon’s Wings behind and make it on his own. We all knew that. Drake, however, was blind to his talent.
“No,” Cole Steel’s raspy voice answered, cutting the auditioning hopeful off.
“Sorry, dude,” Axton told the guy.
Drake didn’t even bother to say anything. He just shook his head at the guy and went back to his drawing.
I waited until the guy left, his head bowed in depression. When the door shut behind him I moved out of the shadows. “Is this what you fuckers do all day? Gods, I would have already started climbing the walls.”
My brother’s head snapped up and for a brief moment glanced behind me, as if expecting someone else to be with me. Grimacing, I shook my head, knowing that I was just letting him down even before the disappointment flashed in his eyes and he clenched his jaw. I never should have texted him that I had run into Lana at the gym.
“Well, fuck me!” Cole grinned at me as he stood and shook my hand. “How you been, boy?”
At thirty years old, I wasn’t much of a boy, even compared to Cole Steel. But having lived hard all his life, I guess he felt beyond his years. “Been livin’, Cole. Been livin’.”
Drake pushed back from the long judges' table and stood. “I’m starving. Let’s go,” he muttered.
I ignored his abruptness, knowing he was hating himself and probably aching for a bottle. I was glad that Emmie had found a local AA for him because he was going to need it. “You guys want to join us?”
Axton threw his arm around my shoulders as he and the old man stood, and we followed Drake toward the exit. “Let’s get into something we shouldn’t tonight.”
Normally the offer would hold serious appeal to me. I would even have told Ax to blow off work and we would have found a local sex club and had some fun with a few chicks for the rest of the day. But even as the thought of my typical fun time crossed my mind, a pair of violet eyes eviscerated the images.
“Nah, man,” I told my friend as we left the audition room, “I have plans.”
Axton stopped and felt my forehead. “Dude, you okay?”
I laughed and pushed his hand away. “I’m cool, man. Just got someone I’m playing with lined up.”
“Ah!” Axton grinned. “Well, let me know how she is. I might want a ride or two when you finish with her.”
The thought of Axton, one of my closet friends outside of my band brothers, touching Harper made my vision blurry for a moment. I clenched my jaw. “No way! You are staying the fuck away from Harper.”
A pierced brow rose at the vehemence in my tone. “Okay, dude. Chill out. Haven’t even met the chick. She’s all yours.”
“Damn right. She’s mine.”
Harper
After crawling back into bed for a few more hours, I finally forced myself to get up and shower. Pulling my hair into a ponytail, I didn’t bother with my contacts, which I only wore when I was either working out or taking pictures.
I had a crazy thought that maybe I should put on some makeup then gave myself a disgusted eye roll in the mirror as I brushed my teeth. I hated makeup and barely knew how to put it on. Ariana had always made fun of me about that. There wasn’t much my beautiful stepsister didn’t make fun of me for.
Growing up had been pure hell. My mother adored her stepdaughter but barely had time for me. Ariana was the beautiful one, the one that brought in all the money that bought my mother expensive things. I was forced to follow them around the globe as Ariana had made it big in country after country, becoming the face for advertisement after advertisement.
At fashion shows I would hide in the corner with a book, trying to become invisible to the gorgeous, mean girls as they prepared to show off their perfection to the masses. With my thick glasses, braces, and flat chest, I would end up the butt of their jokes and bullying if I crossed the other models’ path.
Then I had met Dallas and things had started to change. Dallas, more beautiful than any of the models I had ever seen before—more beautiful than even Ariana—wasn’t like the others. She looked down her nose at the models, hating every minute she had to be around them. The first time I had met her was the same day she had become my best friend…
“I’m making spaghetti!” Linc called as he passed my room.
I frowned at my reflection in the bathroom mirror and sighed. I loved Linc’s spaghetti. It was my comfort food. His special treat for me when my stepsister was in New York, or worse…when my mother was.
If he was making it out of the blue, then it could only mean one thing. One of them was in town.
I rinsed my mouth and wiped away the small white smear on my chin. I wasn’t going to worry about them. They were not going to get to me this time.
So why were my palms damp? Why was my stomach suddenly cramping with dread?
Muttering a curse that would have had my mother going after me with a brush, I turned away from my reflection and grabbed my phone as I left my room.
Lana was lying on the couch with a pint of ice cream resting on her flat stomach. A can of whipped cream and a bottle of hot fudge sat on the floor beside her. She had a sad look in her amber eyes, and I hated that she was feeling so miserable over a guy. Ever since she had found out that Drake Stevenson was coming to New York she had done nothing but get drunk on Ben and Jerry’s.
From the kitchen I could smell that Linc was already putting the sauce together for his spaghetti. Dallas was talking in hushed tones to him, and it was all I needed to confirm that my mother and/or stepsister were indeed in town. Dallas didn’t do hushed tones, unless she was trying to protect me from something.
That was why I loved her so much. Because she was so fiercely protective of those that mattered to her.
“Want a bite?” Lana asked as she took another big bite of Chunky Monkey.
I shook my head. “No, thanks. I just brushed my teeth.”
“Harp?” Dallas stuck her head out of the kitchen.
I turned to face her. “So… Which one is it?”