Page 19 of Heart of a Rebel

“Well, you’ve got us.” I reach out and place a hand on Rome’s arm.

He flinches at my touch but doesn’t pull away. His dark brown eyes find me, and if I’m not mistaken, a flash of pain rolls through them. I’m not sure what Rome’s trying to prove or escape, but I know he will. Regardless of whatever his father put him through, he didn’t let it break him. Instead, he fed off it to grow stronger—something I envy, even with all our differences.

“I know.” Rome places a hand over mine and squeezes. He pats the back of my knuckles and winks. “I’m grabbing a drink, want anything?”

“You have fun, I’m going to grab water.”

“Of course you are.” He tips his head back and laughs, walking past me with a wicked grin on his face. “Enjoy your water, princess.”

It used to bother me when he called me that, or when the guys would tease me for never partying with them. But I’ve learned it’s their way of showing love. Besides, as much as they’ll give me crap about it, I think they actually appreciate that they don’t have to spend all of their time worrying about me getting into trouble.

I hop off the stage and head to the back, where I know Adrian stores the bottled water. Since the owner is never here, Adrian lets us have our run of the place.

Walking into the back storage room, I turn the corner and stop short right before running into Adrian. He startles, and panic flashes in his eyes for a split second before he buries it.

He might not say anything, but I’m not blind. I know he suffers from PTSD.

“Oh, sorry—” I take a step back.

“Don’t worry about it.” He straightens up and takes a deep breath, composing himself.

Over this past week, something has shifted in him. His eyes still house his demons, but I sense peace beneath the surface. He seems lighter, calmer. Like a weight he was carrying is still there, but not resting as heavily on him.

“Just grabbing a water.” I smile, hoping my cheeks aren’t as red as I feel they are.

In this small space, Adrian is towering. Dim lighting casts shadows on his defined jaw and the cut of his biceps push against the fabric of his T-shirt. Everything about him is intimidating. And hot.

While I’m used to the guys in the band acting like immature boys who want to stick their dicks in everything that walks. Adrian is aman. How he carries himself. His work ethic. How he approaches women.

I’ve spent years thinking maybe I’m just not a relationship kind of girl. But then I met Adrian. A man in a sea of boys who are desperate for my attention. He’s nothing like them, and it’s magnetizing.

“Here you go.” Adrian reaches over and grabs a bottle off the shelf, handing it to me.

If I wasn’t parched before, my mouth turns to sandpaper when his fingers graze mine.

“You guys sound good out there.” He tips his chin toward the door.

I roll my shoulders back and take a deep breath. “Work in progress.”

Adrian smiles, and it’s disarming how one look from him can knock me completely off balance. The more time we spend practicing at his house and running through our sets at his bar, the more I find myself unable to keep my eyes off him. Sparing glances and hoping no one notices—especially him.

And when I catch him looking back… it’s downright dangerous.

“Sebastian’s convinced this is it, that we’ll be on tour this time next year.” I shake my head because my brother is a dreamer, and I’m more realistic.

“You will,” Adrian says, and there’s something about his certainty that makes me want to believe him. He’s not the type of person who says things just to make you feel better. He’ll tell you what he thinks. And the way he pins me with his stare makes me wonder if he’s seeing something in me that I’ve been missing.

“Fingers crossed.” I cross them in front of me—in hope, as a barrier. “Supposedly you’d know since you’re going to be there, Mr. Manager.”

When my brother gets an idea in his head, it’s almost impossible to convince him otherwise, and ever since the night he decided Adrian should be our manager, he’s been all but certain it’s going to happen. Even if Adrian shakes off the idea every chance he gets.

Knowing my brother, it’s only a matter of time before he finds a way to convince him.

At first, I thought it was insane because it doesn’t make sense. Adrian knows less about the industry than we do. But the closer we get to the showcase, the more it sinks in how much this could really change everything.

And what then? If we end up recording and on tour—if we end up famous. They’re all unknowns.

How many hands will be playing marionette with our lives?

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