Because of Luke Read online

  "I thought you wanted to chill."

  "We're chillin'." He pulls me to him but I pull back.

  "Can we just acknowledge the damn elephant already?" I sit up and sweep my hair over my shoulder.

  "What?"

  "I know everything was weird with my family the other day and I'm sorry. They were awful. But you have to know I'm nothing like that. They're just...they're religious and traditional and when things are different, especially pushed in their faces, they can't handle it. They shut off all emotion and start acting like a bunch of robots. But it's them. Not you. Okay?"

  Luke brushes the ends of my hair with his fingertips. "I know. And I know you're not like that. I just spent three months on a bus with you and if there's anything you're not, it's a robot." He adds with a grin, "You've got emotions coming out the ass."

  I smack him on the shoulder, then lie down on my stomach next to him. "So what is it then?" I tap his head. "What's taking up all the space in here?"

  "It's nothing. Like I said, I'm just trying to figure things out."

  "Fine," I say. "But could you make some room in that head for me. I miss you."

  He tugs me toward him again. "Already made."

  I don't wake up again until the next morning and I'm tickled to see Luke still curled up next to me. He looks so sexy, I'm tempted to wake him, but I opt to let him sleep instead.

  I've always imagined cooking for a guy. Not that I really know how, but with whatever's in their kitchen, I've decided I'm going to experiment.

  I pull one of Luke's t-shirts over my head, draw my hair up into a ponytail and make my way down the stairs. As I step into the kitchen, I freeze, my mouth forming a silent Oh when I see the person sitting at the table.

  "Ross. You're back."

  His gaze darts from the glass of orange juice he's holding in his hand, to mine, then travels down the length of my body. I suddenly feel stark naked. And besides this little t-shirt, I might as well be.

  My first instinct is to dart up the stairs, find something less the revealing. But instead, I play it cool and walk past him towards the shelter of the kitchen island.

  "I didn't know you'd be here."

  "My house, isn't it?"

  I shrug a little. "What happened to New York?"

  "What happened to you?" He smirks, but he wears the smile awkwardly on is handsome face.

  "Luke happened." The moment I say it, I want to take it back.

  What the hell is wrong with me? My entire body flushes and I turn toward the fridge to retrieve the juice.

  He clears his throat. "Right," he replies.

  Taking a deep breath, I grab a glass from the dish rack and fill it to the brim. After downing, most of it, I nod toward his. "Different speed for you, isn't it?"

  "Mine's a little stronger than yours." Roscoe pushes away from the table, and walks over to the island to stand in front of me. "I need to talk to you."

  I drain my glass before responding. "About what? Kicking me out of your house?"

  He lets out a heavy sigh. "Don't make this harder than it already is, Carlson."

  I place the glass in the sink, and cross my arms leaning back up against the counter. "About what then?"

  "Miami."

  I bite the inside of my lip and wait for him to continue. Is Roscoe Black actually going to eat his words? This, I absolutely need to hear.

  "I realize I may have been too hasty...you know, when I fired you."

  Even if I wanted to I couldn't keep the smug smile off my face. Looks like Luke was right to leave with me after all. I'll be sure to thank him multiple times for this one. But not before I make his brother beg.

  Roscoe rolls his eyes. "Would you quit lookin' at me like that?"

  "Like what?"

  He shakes his head. "Look, I'm not saying I like what's going on, but I like being out there, doing all that we're doing, a hell of a lot less when you're not there."

  The smile melts from my face, instantly and I can't imagine how I'm looking at him now. I don't even know how to respond to that.

  Roscoe stares back at me and he almost looks like he regrets his words. But he doesn't say as much. He just keeps staring like he's waiting for a response.

  "I don't know what to say."

  "Say you'll come back. We can put all this stuff behind us."

  If only it were that easy.

  "Ross...I worked my butt off for you. Even though you thought it was a terrible idea, I talked to Bill Fiennes and got you more shows on the tour, I met with Jerry Cowell even though you told me not to. I put my time in. I was a damn good manager and you just...fired me." Tears are threatening but I swallow hard, biting them back. "Why would you do that to me? I thought we were friends."

  "We are," he takes a step forward, stopping inches away. "We are, Carlson."

  "Then why?"

  "Because I didn't want you screwing my brother."

  I open my mouth to respond, but again I'm at a loss for words.

  What the hell is that supposed to mean? If I didn't know any better... Is he jealous? Is that what I've been dealing with all this time?

  Before I can ask the uncomfortable question, he says. "Look, when I canned you like that, I figured you'd choose the band. Over him. I figured, when it comes to you, the band comes first. Guess I figured wrong." He turns away from me, running his fingers through his hair, before grabbing a bottle of liquor and leveling off his glass of juice. "I thought you'd come back," he says, after a long sip. "And tell me it was over, tell me the band mattered more. But instead you stood up to me and...I fucking hated it."

  I laugh, because it's all I can do now. "Of course the band matters, Ross." I touch his arm. "I love you guys. You're like my brothers, but how the hell do you expect me to survive out there, huh? The three of you bring girl after girl home every night and I may only be eighteen, but I still have needs."

  He zeroes in on my hand on his arm and I swear I feel goose bumps rise to the surface. Roscoe pulls his arm away and murmurs something I can't quite make out. But it sounds like a string of curse words. He brings the glass to his lips again. Downs the rest of it and drops the glass on the counter.

  "You can do whatever you want, Carlson. With whomever you want. Just keep it to your fucking self."

  "Oh, you mean like you do?" I scoff.

  "You coming back or what?"

  "Does this mean Luke and I have your blessing?"

  There's that look again, but he doesn't dwell on whatever he's thinking. He just pushes away from the counter, and walks out of the kitchen, throwing over his shoulder, "Sure, sweetheart. Whatever."

  If she paces any more she'll drive a hole through the floor and send us straight to hell. I'm beyond annoyed. When she called earlier, I thought it was to apologize, but when she said she wanted me to come by myself, I should have figured it meant a lecture.

  And that hurts. All I want to do is put the past behind us, but she's not making it easy. We've been sitting in her living room for over and hour and I'm not buying the small talk anymore. She doesn't really want to hear every detail of the tour, from what I ate to where I slept. She's stalling.

  "Shannon," I say, stopping her in her tracks. "Can you get on with it? I have somewhere to be."

  "Somewhere with Luke?"

  I scoff. "I knew it. That's why you dragged me over here, isn't it. To rag on my boyfriend. "

  "No," she says quietly. "Sorry. Never mind."

  She finally takes a seat on the sofa again and wrings her hands in her lap.

  "This doesn't have to be weird you know. Nothing's really changed. I was gone and now I'm back. A little less innocent than before, but I'm still the same person."

  "I know you are," she says. "It's not you that's changed. It's me."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Shiels...I just want you to know, I never meant for this to happen. Well, obviously. But I need you to look at this objectively. Don't get caught up in it and for godssakes do not follow in my footsteps. Just.
..be careful. With Luke, with everything. Life's too short to screw it all up."

  There are a million thoughts circling my mind, but I don't know which one to grasp. Is she sick? Dying? No, that doesn't make any sense. Why would she be worried about me following in her footsteps? Did she commit some kind of crime? Is she...? Oh, my god.

  "No." I sit forward, grabbing her hand as I search her face for confirmation. "Did that choir boy knock you up?"

  Shannon closes her eyes and bows her head.

  "He did? Are you shitting me right now? You can't be serious. He caved again? Please tell me he didn't run like last time? Did he run? Did he leave you? Wait, is he hickey guy? Oh, god, Shannon. What did Mom and Dad say?"

  "Sheila." She says my name so loud, so sharp it snaps me out of my daze. "Just stop for a second. Take a breath."

  I nod, swallowing hard as I try to process what I've just learned.

  "You can't tell anyone."

  "Why? They don't know?"

  "No," she says. "They know. I told them pretty much right away. But no one outside of the family knows. And I'd like to keep it that way, for now. Dave proposed, so..."

  "You're getting married?"

  "What choice do I have?" she shrugs. "Mom and Dad...they think it's best."

  "So? What do you think is best? Do you even want the guy? Because I gotta say, Shannon as much of a Debbie Downer you've turned into these past few years, he is not the guy for you. He's...just not. Not after what he did to you."

  "Well...people aren't always who you think they are."

  Before I can stop myself, I say, "Like Luke? One look at him and you'd think he was some kind of playboy, right?" I shake my head. "Not even close.

  Shannon looks like she's ready to throw up.

  "I'm sorry. This isn't about me and the boyfriend you all hate so much." I smirk, then rub her back and kiss her lightly on the cheek. "You okay?"

  "Yep...just all-day sickness." She smiles weakly. "I'll be fine. Are you going to be? I'm not judging him or anything but I'd feel a lot better if you stayed here instead of at Luke's place."

  "Yeah, about that." I bite my lip. "I'm going back to work for the band."

  "What? Seriously?"

  "Shannon, if I'd known you were having a baby I never would have agreed but after everything that went down with Roscoe, I can't even begin to tell you how lucky I feel to have another chance."

  "Who's Roscoe?"

  "My original crush." I smile. "He's the lead singer of the band. Luke's older brother. You know, the one I always used to talk about. The complete opposite of Luke. I mean hot as all hell, sure, but he's covered in tattoos, and crazy piercings and he screws anything that moves and then has the nerve to fire me for nothing."

  "He fired you?"

  I shrug. "Water under the bridge. He found out I was dating Luke and flipped out. They all think I'm Yoko Ono or something. Whatever. Anyway, he and Luke are like night and day. Luke's got these big plans and, as Grandma would say, Ross flies by the seat of his pants."

  "Take life by the balls and squeeze," Shannon chuckles.

  "Where'd you hear that?"

  She shrugs. "Nowhere. Just a stupid saying." She reaches up to brush a stray hair from my face. "I'm proud of you, sis. I have to admit, when you said you were leaving with a group of guys for the summer, I freaked out. I thought you were being selfish and stupid, but you a really are holding your own. Living your dream."

  "And I'm so happy. I don't think I've ever been this happy." I pause, then lean forward clasping her hands in mine. "Are you? Are you sure about marrying David Baker? It's just so...weird."

  "It is. And scary and surreal. In my heart, I know I shouldn't but my life isn't exactly that cut and dry anymore. I'm pregnant. I'm going to have a baby and I can't do that on my own. And Dave is there."

  "He better be." I frown. "But who says you can't do it on your own? I mean, with him but without him? He can support you without marrying you, you know. It's the nineties, women do it all the time."

  "I know but..."

  "I know this isn't my situation, sis. But I just really don't think you're supposed to be scared when you agree to marry someone. You're supposed to be happy. You don't look very happy."

  Shannon smiles. "See, that's why you're the smart one."

  I scoff. "The smart one without a high school diploma." I laugh. "I'm so sorry." I close the space between us. "That I haven't been here."

  "Are you in love?" she asks. "With Luke?"

  I lean back in the chair. Closing my eyes, I recall his kisses and I'm tempted to say yes. But instead I say, "I don't know. I don't even know what love is. I know he's special and he makes me feel special. And his kisses are..." I shudder. "They're unreal. They make me all tingly and floaty. But he's not exactly chatty. We don't talk much. Sometimes it's hard to tell what he's feeling. Roscoe, on the other hand, is an open book." I smile and my heart sinks when I think of all the drama my relationship with Luke has caused. I doubt Crazy Eights will ever be the same. I shake my head. "I mean, Luke and I talk about little things. Like the topic of the day or whatever, but I really don't know much about him. I guess we'll see if it's love or not. I don't have much to measure it up to."

  Shannon clears her throat and that shifty-eyed gaze falls on me again. "Well, I'm happy for you. Either way."

  "I wish you could come with me. I wish you weren't knocked up and getting married, so we could run off together. We'd have so much fun."

  "Well, things are what they are," she says with a smile. "And I've come to accept it. You will too, eventually."

  "Well," I say picking up my can of Pepsi from the coffee table. "I'm here for you, sis. I promise. And if you feel like dumping David, I support you. You have to do what's right for you. Not them. Remember that."

  I fiddle with the tag of the can for few moments before casting a puppy dog gaze on her.

  "What?" she asks, rolling her eyes.

  I bite my lip and bow forward, propping my elbows on my knees. "Can you tell them for me?"

  Shannon sighs. "Sheila, no. You should do it."

  "Please." I pout. "I'll call. I swear I will. Every day if I have to, but I can't face Mom. And Dad will rage on me and...please, sis. For me?"

  "When will you be back?"

  "I don't know. But I won't be far. We're going to New York for a few weeks then we're settling in Seattle. Roscoe found a ranch somewhere close by. In some richy rich place. The whole band's moving in. You should come visit, when we get settled."

  She rubs her belly and I smile. "Soon," she says. "But I should probably get things settled here first."

  "So you'll tell them for me."

  She sighs. "You owe me."

  I grin and my gaze drops to her belly, following the circular pattern of her hand. "How much longer?"

  "Seven months."

  "So I'll see you in seven months?"

  "No," she says. "Because you're definitely coming to visit before then, you little twit."

  I nod and she smacks me on the shoulder. "Promise?"

  "Promise."

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Luke

  There's a dull thump at my door and it opens a crack, then a little wider as Roscoe peers through, his gaze dancing around the room. "You alone?"

  I nod and signal for him to enter.

  He plops down on the end of my bed and throws himself backwards, hands clasped behind the back of his head.

  "Sheila told me you asked her back."

  He shrugs. "Figured it was time."

  The timing couldn't be better. And as much as I wanted to leave her behind, I'm happy Sheila's coming with. I never thought I'd see it this way, but things are about to get back to normal.

  My brother eyes me as I tear off a clump of sticky green and rest it on the cover of the book I've been reading. I tear it into tiny pieces and sprinkle them in the center of the rolling paper.

  "You into that shit again?"

  I laugh. "Better than drinking every
night."

  "Is it?" I glance up at his doubtful gaze.

  "Dude, I gave that shit up because I was in school—studying every damn night. I needed my mind to be clear. Now that that's over, I might as well have some fun."

  He sits up now, propping his elbows on his knees and holding his head between his hands. "I never said all that."

  "What?" I ask. "That I'm not going back to school?" I snicker. "Let me ask you something, Ross. You plannin' on failing?"

  "What?"

  "The band. You think we're going to record an actual studio album that's gonna flop? You think we'll never see the inside of a stadium? Never have wannabe garage bands opening up for us?"

  "Hell, no." He scoffs. "We're going all the way. Roscoe Gold's the next big thing."

  "Exactly."

  It takes a moment for things to register, but his eyes finally light up with realization and he shrugs one shoulder. "Still doesn't mean you gotta fuck your brain up with that shit every day."

  I laugh at his dramatic statement. "Who taught me how to roll a doobie again?"

  "Biggest mistake of my life."

  "Naw, that was the plate of brownies you took to Maya's eighteenth birthday party." I shake my head. "Her mom was blazed."

  We both bust out laughing and I hand him the joint and lighter. He takes it, reluctantly, then holds it to his lips. "I think I was the worst parent ever. I swear."

  "No," I say. "You don't have anything on Mom and Dad. You were the best."

  He smiles slightly and there's an awkward we-should-be-hugging moment hanging in the air. He dispels it with a flick of the lighter.

  As the space around us fills with wisps of white smoke, he leans back on his elbows.

  "You sure you know what you’re doing, man?"

  "About what?" I already know what he's getting at, but I play innocent anyway.

  "She's cute..." I raise an eyebrow and he takes a drag of the joint before handing it to me with a smirk. "All right, she's fine, but she's....complicated."

  I scrunch my brow in response.

  He lies back, avoiding my gaze. "She's part of the band. She's like a...sister."