WILDER: A Rockstar Romance

Please respect the work of this author. No part of this book may be reproduced or copied without permission. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Any similarities to events or situations are also coincidental.

The publisher and author acknowledge the trademark status and trademark ownership of all trademarks and locations mentioned in this book. Trademarks and locations are not sponsored or endorsed by trademark owners.

DEDICATION

To B., and achieving shared goals and dreams...together.

To N. and E., my big big boys.

To Kerry for her B-lo knowledge and willingness to accept eleventh hour texts about the finer points of concert venues.

To C.K. my lovely, patient editor.

To Kaylee and Honey, because of course.

And

To my wonderful readers. I hope you like it.

About this book:

WILDER

Scarlett:

The whole world thinks they know him, but no one knows him like I do.
Keir Wilder
may be the lead singer of the biggest rock band on the planet, but he was once the boy next door. He was my first love. He put a ring on my finger. But I couldn't stay with him.

That was a long, long time ago.

Now I need help, and he's the only one who can save me. I know he will...

If he can forgive me.

Keir:

Five years ago I waited for her but she never showed up. I tried to find her, but she disappeared.

If she thinks she can just walk back into my life with no explanation, she is mistaken.

Sure I'll help her. I'll fix it. That's what I do. I'm a problem solver and I don't let go until things are the way they should be.

Like me and Scarlett, together again.

Now that I have her back in my life, I'm not letting her run away from me again. We're about to leave on tour and I don't care what the rest of the band thinks. Or even what she thinks.

She's coming with me.

Prologue

Scarlett

Zoe set her box down, then stood back up and stretched. "I'm going to need to update my manicure after this weekend," she groaned, then inspected her cuticles grimly.

The door slammed open, and Jason shouldered his way in, struggling with my childhood desk.

I rushed to help him. "Hey, just set that right there. I'll move it later," I said.

"Nah, I've got it," he grunted, then grunted again. "Where do you want it?"

I pointed to the windowless corner of my brand new basement apartment. "There looks as good a place as any," I sighed.

"It's very...cozy," Zoe ventured brightly as Jason grunted and cursed his way to the wall.

I shook my head. "It's crap. But at least it's temporary crap. I can manage a year here, right?"

She nodded. "You sure you're going to be good staying here alone tonight? You don't need me to stay?"

I shook my head again and went over to hug my best friend. "No. Thank you, though, hon. Is it weird that I'm actually going to enjoy sleeping alone tonight?"

Zoe chewed her lip. I could feel the worry coming off of her in waves. She was about to object, loudly, when Jason came over to give me a quick hug goodbye. "You're all set, Scar," he said. I went in to embrace him. "Not too close," he warned. "I'm pretty rank."

I laughed and hugged him hard anyway. "Thank you for your help. Thank you so much." I pulled back and mock-waved my hand in front of my nose.

"If you need anything…" he said, eyeing me down meaningfully.

I nodded. It didn't need to be said. What if Kevin somehow found out where I lived? What if he decided to do something stupid?

I patted Jason on the shoulder. "I'm sure everything will be fine." The image of Kevin's face, scrunched up and screaming, squalling like a red-faced baby—but the most dangerous baby I knew—floated briefly in front of my vision. There was still a tender place there beneath my ribs where I had caught the end of the coffee table before landing hard on my hip.

Kevin had looked shocked. That was the part I couldn't get over. He’d looked like he was surprised that his hands could do that to me, the person he supposedly loved the most. Like the festering rot of his anger hadn't brought us both to this point—me staring up at my boyfriend after he'd struck me for the last time.

He’d stared down at me, like he couldn't figure out how the hell I had ended up on the floor, and extended his hand to help me up. The same hand he'd used to knock me down in the first place.

For the first time, I didn't take it.

He was never going to touch me again.

Zoe was looking at me now like my thoughts were playing on a screen on my forehead. I shook my head to clear it. "Tonight I'm going to turn the AC on full blast, watch as many home remodeling shows as I can and eat complete crap for dinner," I declared.

Zoe clapped. "A free woman," she echoed. "Here's to being a bachelorette. Here's to independence."

For the first time in my life,
a small voice in my head replied. I couldn't tell why it sounded so damn sad.

I ignored it as I kissed them both goodbye and shut the door to my new apartment. A free woman. Free for the first time
ever
.

Unfortunately, I was not a
debt
free woman, and this basement apartment, as squalid as it was, was still in the outer reaches of possibility for my tiny journalist's salary. I would have to pick up a few freelance jobs to make up the difference, but for the first time in a long time, I was filled with hope. I was free. Kevin couldn't hurt me here. I didn't have to sleep with one eye open, listening for the sounds of his breathing and wondering what he was going to do next. Would he be angry at something I didn't know I had done? Would he wake up wanting sex and roll over to take it from me? I was always tense and ready for the other shoe to drop.

In the four years I'd spent with him, I never slept the entire night.

That night—in my own place, in my own bed—I slept the whole night through.

I slept so well, I missed my alarm.

Traffic getting in to work was more snarled than I had counted on, and I got lost on one of the turns coming off the freeway. So by the time I made it to the offices of
Grip
magazine, I was nearly half an hour late. I hoped to scuttle in through the back door unacknowledged and position at myself at my desk like I had been there all along.

But when I opened the back door, I walked in to a shouting match.

I edged along the wall, trying to figure out what everyone was yelling about. I saw tear-streaked faces and some red-faced, bellowing executives.

When I reached my desk, Zoe and Jason were already across the aisle at her desk, huddled and anxious looking. "What did I miss?" I asked, staring at the mayhem.

Zoe sniffled into a Kleenex. "We just got bought," Jason explained grimly. "We're all going to lose our jobs."

Chapter 1

Keir

Her hair was not the correct shade of blonde. It was closer to platinum than honey, but she had the same sardonic smile.

That's the only reason I went over.

"Can I ask you something?" she whisper-screamed over the din of voices around us. This place was far too packed for eleven in the morning.

"Anything you want." I smiled at her. Not that I would answer.

"You’re Keir Wilder, right?"

I leaned back against the bar and slung my arm out. "Do I look like him?" I asked, feeling the wariness that always took over when I was recognized out in public.

"Absolutely," she slurred, leaning over and planting her hands on my thighs.

I glanced over to the booth and saw my brother laughing with the rest of the band. He raised his glass in my direction. I rolled my eyes.

"Sorry, honey," I told her. "You've got the wrong guy."

"Are you sure? Come on, sing for me. Sing
Basic Desires
."

A deep album cut. This chick wasn't fooling around; she really was a fan. "Don't know it," I lied.

"You're such a liar." She smacked my shoulder. I looked over to where her hand had landed. "What if I just prove to you I know you're Keir? I know everything about you. I'm your biggest fan."

I could hear Rane's dorky laughter echoing across the bar. My brother was enjoying this immensely. I wondered if he’d put this chick up to it. "My biggest fan, huh?" I sighed, feeling a mixture of reluctance and dull acceptance. It felt like crap. "Well, I wouldn't want to disappoint a fan."

She laughed and interlaced her fingers with mine. As I allowed her to lead me towards the back room, I tried to just let go and think with my dick. For the first time in my life, maybe I could try just having a good time. Get my dick sucked with no consequence—the way my brother did back before he met Maddie.

But my brain would not cede control.

Once she shut the door to the back room, she pounced, jamming her hands down my jeans, her eyes widening for a flattering second as she wrapped her fingers around me. "Why are you so shy?" she cooed. "You've definitely got something to brag about right here."

I grunted. She was working her fist so fast it felt like she was trying to start a fire with my cock. "I'm not shy," I clarified, squeezing my eyes shut and gritting my teeth against the chafing.

"You let your brother do all the talking."

My dick was broken. That was the only explanation. This chick was a champ, and working diligently, but absolutely nothing was happening down there.

"Yeah, I guess I do," I gritted out, closing my eyes again and trying to picture something—anything—sexy. Make this worth both our while.

She hissed a little, and I winced as she started pumping harder. When I opened my eyes and glanced at her, she looked about as frustrated as I felt. Her tongue poked a little out of the corner of her mouth, like my limp cock was an especially frustrating math problem.

But when she dropped to her knees and started fumbling with my zipper, I gave up. I had to cut this charade short. "Sweetheart, thanks. But it's not happening."

She looked wounded. "Was it me?"

Yes? But that's not your fault?
"No, babe. I'm just...too drunk."
I'm as sober as a priest, doll. You're just...not my type.

My type consists of exactly one person in the world.

She glared at my crotch like it offended her, then suddenly darted forward, mouth open. I fended off her attempts to devour my cock whole and swiftly stepped to the side. "You can tell people whatever you want about being in a back room with Keir Wilder," I told her. "But I'm gonna go now."

She grinned triumphantly. "Thanks for the great time, then," she cooed.

I clenched my fists and exhaled, barely looking up as she slid out the door again, blowing me a kiss as she went
. So that's all this was. Just a notch in her groupie belt. First time in my life I'm grateful I couldn't get it up.

I knew how this would go. She'd make up something about us fucking, how good I was, how hard she came, and for the rest of her life, that'd be her claim to fame—the girl who fucked Keir Wilder in the back room of a bar the month before he left on tour.

People told their stories and you couldn't stop them. That was the part of this rock 'n' roll gig I never got used to. How I didn't count as a real person anymore. I was an image now, an icon, something outside of reality.

Except, I was still
me.
With all my memories and regrets and limp-dicked hang-ups about the past. Nothing had changed except the fatness of my wallet.

Fuck.

I shut the back room door behind me and sighed when I saw Rane and the rest of the band watching my shuffling exit. The nameless chick had already disappeared into the crowd.

Rane lifted an eyebrow.

I lifted my middle finger in return.

I needed another drink. Signaling the bartender, I leaned back and waited for Rane.

Sure enough, my brother immediately unrolled his lazy ass from the booth he had commandeered the second we walked into this place. Maddie, his girl, gave him a warning eyebrow, but he was in "give Keir shit" mode and nothing could dissuade him from his self-appointed task.

"That was quick," he said, coming over and leaning against the bar with his stupid smirk pasted across his face.

I grabbed the round of shots I intended to hog all for myself. "Lasted longer than you would," I growled.

Rane laughed out loud and slammed his card down on the bar. "This round's on me," he crowed. "My little brother finally broke his dry spell."

Several heads whipped around and a few people cheered. "You absolute asshole," I muttered.

"How was she?"

"Rane..." I sighed. "Shut the fuck up. Please?"

"You always had a thing for blondes." He slung his arm over my shoulder and half dragged me back to the booth with the rest of the band.

"You okay, Keir?" Maddie looked concerned.

"I'm fine," I blustered.

"You know she's selling that story to the tabloids," Balzac pointed out. Our big, bad-ass bassist was the most level-headed guy I knew.

Maddie grimaced at the mention of tabloids. Her own battles with those vultures had only escalated since she and my brother started dating. It didn't help anything that her mom had married our dad. It was still something I was trying to get used to.

"Yeah, well..." I hedged. The less I said, the less chance I could be caught up in my own lie.

Twitch, our spastic drummer, bounced in his seat like a kid eager to join the adults in conversation. "As long as she doesn't sell it to
Grip
, he doesn't care!" he blurted.

Everyone stared.

I tried my fucking best not to wince. But I winced anyway.

"Low fucking blow, dude," Rane snarled.

Twitch looked like a puppy smacked on the nose with a newspaper. "Shit. Goddammit. Fuck, I'm sorry, Keir. That was fucking stupid. I didn't mean it," he babbled. "I'm drunk as fuck. Don't listen to me."

"Never do," I told him. I meant it to sound light and joking, but it came out angry.

Grip,
the music magazine. Where Scarlett worked. I found out she was there by complete accident. She hadn't even bothered to tell me she was in the same business. Or in the same town, even. She clearly didn't think of me at all.

So, I shouldn't care if she thought I was some kind of dirtbag manwhore. I owed her nothing. And after five years, it seemed pretty clear she didn't give a rat's ass about me either way.

"You're buying the next round," I informed Twitch, grinning until I had him convinced I was okay. He sprang to his feet, eager to make amends, and I kept grinning, hoping I could convince myself as well.

Rane leaned back in the booth, his arm settling around Maddie's shoulders. His eyes narrowed once, and that was it, but that's all that needed to be said. Maddie settled her head into the crook of his arm and eyed me sympathetically. I grabbed my shot and turned away from both of them.

There was a reason I didn't talk to the press. A reason I don't talk to anyone. I didn't like it when my shit was spread out for the whole world to see. But the shit with Scarlett? That, I couldn't hide. I never could in the past, and maybe I never would be able to in the future.

"You gotta let it go," Rane said softly.

He had said those five words to me so many times that they lost all meaning. "I know," I replied, equally meaninglessly. It wasn't me that was holding on.

It was the memory of her that was holding on to me.

Other books

Antebellum BK 1 by Jeffry S.Hepple

Penthouse Perfect: BBW Erotic Romance by Carolina Moon

Dream Caller by Michelle Sharp

Soul Mates Rise: Witching Call Part 4 by Sandra Ross

The Professor's Sex Slave by Colleen Anderson

Shoreline Drive by Lily Everett

The Devil Amongst the Lawyers by Sharyn McCrumb

The Bone Palace by Downum, Amanda

All the Little Liars by Charlaine Harris

Recessional: A Novel by James A. Michener