 by Nikki Ash.jpg)
Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
My life has been an endless loop of heartache and breakup songs.
I’ve lived in fear that I’m broken and will never find the kind of love that would piece me back together into something whole.
When my boyfriend proposes, I say yes, desperate for an easy fix. For a super-glue solution.
But, on the day of my wedding, when my dad tells me to follow my heart, it doesn’t lead me down the aisle.
Instead, it takes me straight to Declan Pierce’s car—where I crash his road trip.
The more time we spend together, the more he shows me it’s okay to be broken.
Declan
I’ve had feelings for my best friend’s sister for as long as I can remember.
Watching her jump from guy to guy, I’ve been biding my time, waiting for the right moment to tell her.
And then she does something I never thought she’d do…she gets engaged.
This is the part where I’m starting to accept that the woman I love will never be mine.
Until she jumps into my car in her wedding gown and tells me to floor it.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
PLAYLIST
“Love You Like That”- Canaan Smith
“Think a Little Less”- Michael Ray
“Marry Me”- Thomas Rhett
“Lonely If You Are”- Chase Rice
“This Is What You Came For”- Calvin Harris
“The Other Side”- Jason Derulo
“Bedrock”- Young Money
“Just a Dream”- Nelly
“Beautiful”- Akon
“That Should Be Me”- Justin Bieber
“Steal My Girl”- One Direction
“Like I Can”- Sam Smith
“Track Star”- Mooski
CHAPTER ONE
DECLAN
“The last we heard from Raging Chaos after drummer, Gage Sharp, was taken to the hospital due to a drug overdose is that they’re taking some time off and requesting privacy during—”
The bitch yapping on the screen is cut off by an incoming call from my mom. I hit ignore, but it immediately starts up again.
“Another, sir?” the bartender asks, nodding toward my empty glass.
“Yeah, and you can keep ’em coming,” I tell him as my phone rings again. “As a matter of fact, if you could just bring me a bottle, that’d be great.” Since the bar I’m drinking at is located in the building I live in, they have my card on file. Normally, I’d just drink in my apartment, but right now, it’s empty and lonely, and I hate being there more than I have to be.
The bartender nods and grabs me a new bottle, opening and placing it on the bar top, along with a larger glass.
“If you need anything else, let me know,” he says before he walks away to help someone at the other end of the bar.
My phone starts up again, and since she’s clearly not going to stop until I answer, I hit accept and bring my phone up to my ear. “Yeah.” I pour myself another double shot of Johnnie Walker Blue Label—my go-to—and throw it back.
“Hello? Who is this?”
“You called me, Mom,” I say dryly.
“Declan, I wasn’t sure if it was you. Is that how you answer the phone for everyone who calls? It’s rather rude. I know you’re in a band, but—” The word band comes out sounding like a curse word, and I sigh, already exhausted by this conversation.
“Mom—”
“What if it were someone important? A business—”
“Mom!” I bark, having zero fucking patience for her shit today.
“What in the world is wrong with you?” she asks, sounding as if I’ve offended her. “Have you lost all respect for your elders? I’m your mother, not one of your trashy friends. Don’t—”
Fuck, I’ve had enough. “Is it an emergency?”
“Excuse me?”
“Your reason for calling incessantly. Is it an emergency? Because I’m really not in the mood to talk.”
“Yes, it is, actually. Your father and I saw the news. That… friend of yours almost died, and they said your band is over. Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Because one, you don’t like my friends, so I didn’t think you would give a shit that he almost died.” Since the day I became friends with Camden and Braxton, who asked me to join their band—later, recruiting Gage—she and my dad have been negative as hell, trying everything in their power to get me to “stop messing around with the wrong crowd.” It’s been over ten years, and they still don’t take my career seriously.
“And two,” I add, “our band isn’t over. We’re taking a break, so if you’re calling to gloat or whatever, save it.”
I know I sound disrespectful as hell, and normally, I try a lot harder to be the son she and my father want me to be—the son I’ll never fully be. Since I refuse to give up being part of the band, I make it a point to speak properly and dress nicely. I don’t have any tattoos or piercings, but I do have long hair, which drives them insane—but in my defense, I had long hair before the band—so when I’m at home or at a function they’ve guilted me into attending, I make sure to wear it up and out of my face. But she’s called me at the wrong time, at a moment when I just don’t give a fuck about being nice or proper or respectful, especially to the woman who has done nothing but talk shit about the band since we started it over a decade ago.