Chapter 3

Shane

The line outside the studio was ridiculously long. I saw people with small tents and sleeping bags. Fast food bags littered the ground, and I smelled burgers frying on a tiny portable grill.

I paid the cab driver and stepped out at the front of the long line. Two security guards stood at the doors, along with a thin man with a clip board and a head set. Figuring the little man was in charge, I headed for him.

Of course the first five people in line were female and they noticed who I was even in my hat, sunglasses, and workout clothes. The first one screamed as I walked closer, which sent the rest of the females behind her into a frenzy. The little man frowned at me like I was dirt on his shoes. “You will have to go to the back of the line with everyone else.”

“Shane!”

“I love you, Shane!”

The chorus of fans screaming my name was the first thing to alert the guy of his mistake. When I pulled off my Boston Red Sox’s hat, he straightened and gave me a warmer greeting. “Mr. Stevenson. We weren’t expecting you.”

I shrugged. “My brother asked me to stop by.”

“Shane!”

I shot the still screaming girls my seductive smile, the one that always got me what I wanted. “Hey, ladies. Are you having a good time?”

“It would be better if you stayed.” The second girl in line pouted at me. She was for sure a little hottie, with her long dark hair and blue streaks. She had a body that I could have gotten lost in for an hour or so.

But for once I didn’t take up the invite. If anything, I felt a little disgusted as she rubbed her hand over her curves in an open invitation. “Sorry, sweetheart. I have some business to take care of.”

The little man spoke into his headset, and a moment later one of the security guards showed me into the building. It was lunch time, or so it would seem. Even though I had just eaten, I was still starving. I hadn’t even tasted my breakfast because I had been so into Harper.

The security guard, a guy that looked like he would be right at home in a pro wrestling ring, stopped outside of a door. I nodded my thanks as I walked into the audition room. I took a moment to take in the occupants of the room while they were busy listening to some guy attempt to sing some song he had supposedly written himself.

I was familiar with Cole Steel. He was a legend and I had all of Steel Entrapment’s albums. We had even toured with the guy and his band when we first started out. A cancer scare had ended his career, but he was still deep in the music world with other ventures.

Beside of him sat one of my closest friends outside of my band brothers. I loved Axton Cage just as much as anyone in my family and was glad that he had finally seen the light and dumped Gabriella Moreitti once and for all. She had tied him in knots for the duration of their off and on relationship, not to mention made Emmie’s friendship with the guy strained because of all the lies she had told Em about Nik.

My brother sat to Axton’s right and he looked anything but happy to be there. He was barely paying attention to the guy with the shaky voice, who was just about to piss himself he was so nervous. Drake was doodling something, and I had a feeling it would be something with wings and halos. I felt bad for my brother. He was my hero, the man that had always had my back even at the expense of himself.

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?”

Her eyes darkened. “Both.”

“What do they want?” It was a really stupid question. They had two reasons for being in New York. One was to get money out of my stepfather. No doubt they were running low on cash now that Ariana wasn’t getting modeling contracts like she once had. The second reason was to see me, to make sure I still knew that I wasn’t good enough—beautiful enough—to be what my mother wanted in a daughter.

“Monica wants you to have dinner with her and Ariana.” Dallas practically spat out the other model's name. Yeah, there was some serious bad blood between my best friend and stepsister.

Normally, even though the whole thing would just make me miserable, I would agree to have dinner with my mother. She was my mother after all. She might not think I was good enough, but I still loved her. But tonight I had plans.

And I wasn’t about to ditch Shane in favor of a night of being told repeatedly that I wasn’t pretty. Why should I have that fact rubbed in my face when I already knew it, when I could be having dinner with a deliciously sinful rock star?

I glanced down at my watch, a gift from my stepdad the day I had graduated from college. He had been the only one from my family to be there to cheer me on with my friends as I accepted my diploma.

It was already five of seven. Shane would be coming to pick me up soon. “I have plans,” I told Dallas.

Dallas raised a brow. I didn’t normally make plans without one of my other roommates being involved in them. “Where ya goin’?” Her southern accent always made my heart smile.

“I’m having Chinese with Shane,” I told her just as the phone rang.

Lana shot up on the couch, nearly toppling over her drug of choice for the night. “Shane?”

I bit my lip as I turned to look at her. “Yeah… Is that a problem?”

She was frowning, almost lost in her own thoughts as she glanced up at me. After a long pause she shook her head. “No. Have fun.”

Dallas had already answered the phone and told Shane to come up. As she put the phone back down, she turned to face me with a wicked look in her eyes.

“There is some kind of justice in all of this.” She grinned. “Bitchy and Bitchier are going to shit bricks when they show up and I tell them you went out with one of the hottest rockers in the fucking world!”

I returned her grin, but knew I was going to get an earful when my mother called me later. Picking up my keys, I made sure that my Mace was secure on the key ring before dropping it into my purse. “Enjoy that conversation for me.”