Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 129207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
A heavy silence fills the air as my words sink in, and taking a breath, I take a hesitant step, closing the distance and feeling the warmth radiating off his body. “You’d already hurt me enough, Ezra,” I whisper as my fingers latch onto the bottom of his shirt. “I wasn’t going to allow you to do it again.”
He shakes his head. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
My hand immediately releases his shirt, falling back down. “Don’t I?” He clenches his jaw again, trying to find just a shred of control, but I push him further. “Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me those songs aren’t written about any other woman, and I’ll spend all fucking night listening to them.”
He just stares, but the anger in his eyes tells me I’m right. “I knew it,” I say with a scoff, shaking my head as I turn and walk away, only he grabs my wrist and pulls me back to him before pressing me against the wall.
His whole body moves against mine, and my brain turns to mush as the endorphins race through my system. My hand braces against his chest as it rapidly rises and falls, his heart booming just as fast as mine.
His lips are only a breath away, and all it would take is the slightest lift of my chin and they would be right there, moving against mine like I’ve always dreamed they would. “You really fucking think I was out here falling in love with someone else?”
“What was I supposed to think?” I demand. “Your pictures were splashed over every magazine. Night after night, living up the rockstar lifestyle. Drugs. Alcohol. Women. You refused to come home. No calls. No texts. Nothing. I was a ghost to you. I could have died in Axel’s place, and you wouldn’t have even blinked an eye. You wouldn’t have even known.”
His hands grip my waist, squeezing tight as though he still can’t grasp the fact that I’m standing right here in front of him. “FUCK!” he roars, tearing away from me and leaving me colder than ever. He paces in front of me. “You don’t know a damn thing about what I was going through. The kind of pressure that comes with being me.”
“Oh no. Poor little rockstar,” I scoff. “That’s really the card you want to play right now? Because you will lose every fucking time. You have no idea what you left me behind to deal with. Both you and Axel. I loved you. Every piece of me was yours, but you walked away. The two of you packed your shit and left me, and I will never forgive you. I loved you, Ezra. Since the day I met you at thirteen years old, I have loved you, but fuck. For the last eight years, I have done nothing but hate you.”
He pulls back, clearly not having expected the venom in my tone. “You hate me?” he questions, his tone wavering as those dark eyes lock onto mine with the kind of intensity no woman could ever be prepared for.
“I do,” I tell him, holding my chin up and refusing to cry. “But what does it even matter? I don’t even know who you are anymore.”
He visibly swallows, and the tension in the room is like nothing I’ve ever felt. “No,” he finally says, his tone cold and dark. “You don’t.”
And with that, he turns on his heel and walks away, leaving me as a crumpled mess, falling to my knees and crying for the man he used to be.
18
Raleigh
16 YEARS OLD
Irace down the sidewalk, all too aware that I’m going to be late. Tonight is a big deal. No, it’s a huge deal, and if I miss even a second of it, the boys are never going to forgive me.
Their first gig was such a success that they were invited back to play again the following week, even despite the ridiculous handmade flyers we had to make after my laptop was broken. And from there, it’s become a standing booking, but along with their standing booking comes the insane number of fans and their smartphones, each one of them uploading videos to social media which has gone crazy viral. The boys haven’t even officially put music out, and they’re already known across the country.
It’s insane. It wasn’t long until the call we had all been waiting for finally came in. A record deal. Well, almost. We hope at least. But tonight is the night. Some big scout from Louder Records is coming out to see them, and if all goes well, which I know it will, everything they’ve worked for could become a reality.
My boys are going to be rockstars.
And I’m going to fucking miss it.
Ughhhhhh. They’re going to kill me.
I’ve spent all afternoon locked in the school library working on a group project, and as much as I love to spend every waking minute slaving over a project where I seem to be the only one actually putting in any work, I couldn’t take it a second longer. Everybody was too busy flirting with each other to bother contributing to the project, leaving me to scramble to pull it all together in the hopes I’d still get out of there on time. Had I not been so anxious to get out of there, I might have even taken a moment to tell them to pull their shit together and pull their own weight, but I was on a time crunch, and wasting precious moments on their bullshit wasn’t going to cut it.