Dangerous Hearts: Rock Star Romance, 1 (Lyric & Wolf) (9 page)

Lyric

I’m awakened at the sound of my whispered
name and a gentle gust of air scraping my cheek. A groan escapes. It’s all I
can muster. My body is heavy, my lids heavier. I’m not sure I could move if I
tried.

“Lyric.”

There it is again. I squint before
opening my eyes, knowing whoever is waking me will appear blurry and asshole-
ish
. “You’re on the couch and the guys are waking up. Come
on, I’ll take you to your bunk.”

Ugh. That’s right. My bunk.
I open my
eyes a bit wider to see a shirtless Wolf
standing in front of me—the thief who stole a tiny part of my soul last night
without even realizing it. T
o add insult to injury, t
here
were no bottom bunks left by the time we were done arguing, so the couch was my
only option.

“I can’t sleep on the top bunk,” I moan.

“What? Why not?”

I groan again and try to sit up, but my
head immediately starts spinning. From the furious rage I spun into last night
or for the few too many beers. I don’t know. “I just can’t,” I say as I fall
back onto the hard couch. My damn bones are going to hate me when I wake up for
rea
l
.

“Come on, you can have my bed.”

I’m too groggy and sore to move or speak
again, so when Wolf takes me in his arms
,
I
don’t resist. In seconds
,
I’m poured onto
soft, plush, fabric
,
and a blanket covers me.
Curling into the mattress and letting it form to my body seems to be so
natural. Before I can think about where Wolf has placed me, I’m headed back to
dreamland.

Too
much silence. I’ve woken up on tour buses many times, and it’s never been this
quiet. My body is accustomed to the noise
,
and
I can sleep through it like a baby. So why so much silence? There’s a bright
light through
the
thin
skin of my
eyelids
,
and I
can tell
it’s well past morning. I also feel better
rested than I have in a long time. And why the hell am I comfortable? Tour
bus
bunks are the furthest thing from luxury.

Nothing is adding up until I open my eyes
and gasp. I throw the comforter from my body and sit up with a lurch. I’m in a
bedroom on a moving bus. A bedroom?

“Morning, sunshine.”

I gasp and turn toward the deep voice on
the other side of the room. Wolf is sitting in a chair in the corner, his eyes
glued to the television.
He's watching a
movie, but it’s on silent. He reaches for the remote and presses a button,
turning on the sound.

“Why am I in your bed?”

“You passed out on the couch and didn’t
look very comfortable. I tried to move you to a bunk
,
but you moaned about not liking it on top. Surprising. I took you for a girl
who likes control of all things.”

He’s
wearing a
smirk
,
and I’d love to slap it off his face, but my body
is
scream
ing
at me.
I need to stretch, or run, but there’s no room to do either. And I need to get
out of Wolf’s lair before he mistakes me for one of his groupies.

“I can’t sleep on the top bunk
—f
ear of heights thing. Ever since I was little
,
I’ve had horrible nightmares anytime I sleep high
up. It’s awful. I wake up constantly thinking I’m going to roll off
.
I’m sure the boys
would
appreciate the lack of screaming in the middle of the night.”

Wolf nods, keeping his eyes on the
television.

“What are you watching?”

“
Boondock
Saints
.
Ever seen it?”

Shaking my head, I make another move to
stand. “No.”

“Stay
,
”
Wolf
says,
surprising
me
. “It just started
;
it’s actually a
crime to have never watched this movie, so I’d like to help you out. Since I
owe you for your song.”

For a second I consider his offer,
but
then I remember
why
I’m on this bus. “I have work to do, phone calls to make, showers to take.”

He looks at me like I’m lying. “There’s
nothing you’re doing that can’t wait two hours. Stay, Lyric.”

His eyes dig into mine
,
and I’m frozen. Since when did my brick walls
begin deteriorating for Wolf? We’ve known each other for what, two weeks? I’d
like to think of myself as one of those girls
who
learns from her mistakes. Wolf would absolutely be a repeat of something I do
not want to experience again.

My decision to stay or leave is taking
too long. All the while, I’m staring back at the guy who took my song and sang
it to a crowd of thousands after asking them to make it go viral. Which reminds
me
 .
 . .

“Speaking of owing me. Have you checked
social media today?”

Wolf grins and tosses me his phone. “1.5
million hits on YouTube and counting. Looks like we’ll have to figure out a way
to break the news to the fans that we’ve found our writer but she wants to
remain anonymous.”

“Have you told anyone?”

“Not a soul.”

Relief gush
es
through me as I tap the home screen
,
find the
YouTube page open
,
and watch the video. All I
could see was red last night as the song played and my lyrics filled the
stadium. I’m still perplexed by how it all transpired, but even I have to admit
the song is good—what Wolf did with it,
at least
.

“What’s the deal
,
anyway? Why don’t you want any credit for the song?” His eyes are watching me.
I can feel them probing for a reaction. So I give him nothing.
Instead, I
toss his phone on the bed, walk to the door
,
and turn around to face him.

“Can you pause the movie? I’d really like
to shower and change before I crawl back into your crusty bed.”

His eyes crinkle when he laughs. “You’re
insulting me. I love it. After offering you millions and then rescuing you from
the couch and letting you drool in my bed. You’re still insulting me. That’s
fine, Lyric. At least you’re not screaming at me anymore.”

I smirk and turn toward the door. “Day’s
not over.”

The
moment the movie credits begin to roll
,
I turn
to Wolf, ready to unleash my fandemonium and tell him he was right. But that doesn’t
happen because he’s asleep in his chair, head leaned back against the wall,
mouth hanging open. I laugh and tiptoe over until I’m directly over his ear.
“Boo.”

His eyes fly open
,
and I gasp when he grips my waist.

“Shit,” he says when he realizes it’s me.

My stomach is heaving
with
laughter. “I’m sorry, you looked
uncomfortable. I’m going to get some work done now. You can have your bed
back.”

His hands are still on my waist and his
grip tightens as if he’s about to tell me something. “Okay,” he says
instead
, dropping his hands.

“Thanks for the movie.”

After grabbing my laptop, I pass the bunk
beds and land in the main living area of the bus. The guys take up most of the
couch spaces, their eyes all in different directions. Crawley is in the
kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee and spiking it with something
from
a metal flask. I chuckle and slip past him
to
set up my computer in the only available space
left.

I’m in the groove, plugging away on
emails, making phone calls to the venue to confirm load times
,
and ensuring shipments have arrived. Other than
the music, this is what I live for. Creative organization. Managing chaos. I
love every bit of it. I call the
u
nion teams
to relay the confirmations and then call around to find dining options for the
bands
in
the next few cities
where
we’re stopping. We’re on a three-day trip to
North Carolina, so we’ll be stopping at two hotels to give the bus driver,
Rory, a break and
to
let the guys stretch
their legs for the night.

It’s late afternoon by the time Rory
pulls into our hotel. This is one of those times in my professional career
when
I worry. I worry that the band will have a fit
when they see that there is no glamour in tight-timeline traveling. That’s what
they’ve asked for. Since they all decided to ride the bus from San Diego to North
Carolina, our stops are only as we need them. Which means less than five-star
accommodations are made, if need
be
.

No one says anything as we gather outside
the bus and stretch. The guys are too busy on their phones to notice much,
anyway. Wolf collects his room key
card
from
me, but doesn’t take off right away. To my irritation, he follows me to my room
and then smirks when I turn to face him at my door.

“Can I help you?”

H
is smirk turns
into a
frow
n
. “So cold. I thought we
were on the fast track to friendship after our movie date.”

I purse my lips, begging my face to
behave. “Your definition of friendship and mine are contained in two different
dictionaries. And you don’t date, remember?”

“Have dinner with me.”

“You’re serious?”

He nods, eyes gazing intently into mine.
He’s serious. “We’ve got three months together, Lyric. We might as well attempt
to have a pleasant working relationship.”

“Or what? You’ll fire me?”

He raises an eyebrow. “You heard about
that, huh? That jerk deserved to get fired. He double-booked us twice and left
zero time for Rory to rest. He was an idiot.”

Okay, that’s pretty bad, even I have to
admit. “I might screw up
,
too.”

Wolf narrows his eyes. “Do you want to
get fired? Look, Lyric. Believe it or not, I do have a say
on
who travels with me. I knew who you were, and I
approved you to ride along. It had nothing to do with your looks, or your
parents, or your insane songwriting ability. Obviously, I didn’t know about the
latter. Not to say I didn’t have my doubts
—
with
you being a female and all. Your reputation in the industry is stellar, and I
only work with the best. Shit, just the fact that you talked our openers back onto
the tour without giving into their demands is enough to secure your job. But
it’s a mutual agreement. You can stay or leave anytime.”