Page 10 of Heart of a Rebel

Recording this demo has been exhausting, and we only have a few more weeks to finish it before the showcase at the end of the month. Rumor is, a few big labels are going to be there, including Neon Records. If we’re lucky, this could be the big break we’ve been working toward.

Our ticket out of this town.

In three weeks, everything might change, and I’ve never been more ready for it.

Adrian pushes the door to his bedroom open, and I step inside. It’s bare and minimalistic, like the rest of the house. Nothing on the walls and spotless. His bed is perfectly made, and I wonder if it’s the military that made him like this or if he’s always been this precise and clean.

“You can set your stuff anywhere.” Adrian waves his arm out to the room as he makes his way over to the closet. All his clothes are hung, sorted, and arranged flawlessly.

I drop my purse on his dresser, and in the mirror, I catch sight of Adrian’s back as he strips his T-shirt off and tosses it into the hamper. He’s solid muscle, every inch of him thick and carved. Not only is he tall, but he’s wide, and he carries himself in a way that makes him seem even larger than he is.

He reaches for a pale blue T-shirt and slips it on, covering himself once more, and I dip my eyes to my purse before he turns and catches me staring.

Zipping it closed, I turn and am met with his dark stare. For a man as large as Adrian, he moves quietly, somehow crossing the distance of the room without a sound. This close, I’m flooded with the scent of black licorice and the faintest hint of gasoline lingering from him riding his motorcycle around town.

The spice of his scent and how he towers over me compounds, and I have to remind myself he’s my brother’s friend. He’s doing the band a favor, and I don’t need a man in my life right now. Because without this constant replay of reminders, I might be tempted to throw myself at him just to find out if it really feels as safe as I think it would in his arms.

The doorbell rings, and it breaks our unspoken staring contest.

“That was fast.” Adrian’s gaze moves to the empty doorway as voices start to fill the house.

“This is Rome we’re talking about.” I quirk an eyebrow.

“Point taken.” Adrian steps aside, holding an arm out to allow me past him. “After you.”

For a man of few words, every action speaks volumes. How he holds open doors, how he’s always observing, how he prefers his back to the wall and doesn’t let his guard down in any situation. How he takes care of those around him, whether he’s known you for five minutes or five years. I’m not sure if it’s habit or in the fabric of his nature, but Adrian’s always guarding and protecting.

“You ready for all hell to break loose?” I nudge Adrian’s arm as I walk past, realizing it’s a mistake the moment I do it. The feel of his skin on mine is an electrical pulse that radiates to my bones.

“Always.” Adrian looks down at me, his eyes dark and focused. “Hell, I can handle.”

My whole body shivers at his statement—at his eyes. I have no doubt those words hold more truth than he wants them to. And for the briefest second, I think he’s given me a peek behind the curtain of Adrian Hale, making me want to see even more.

4

Adrian

Myhousereeksofbooze and hormones, and at only twenty-seven, I already feel like I’m growing out of this shit.

Those first few years in the military, I had no problem burning through my paychecks and drowning myself in whiskey every time I was on leave. But now all I seem to find at the bottom of a bottle are more demons. And I’ve got enough of those in my nightmares to not need them walking around with me when I’m awake.

So I sit in the corner of the room assessing. Sipping on a glass of cheap whiskey that burns from my throat to my stomach. I watch the chaos unfold around me and let it drown out my thoughts. At least I’m not alone tonight. I’ll deal with this mess of people if it means they quiet all the shit in my head.

Noah disappeared when the party started, but the rest of the band settled in, making my home their own.

Rome’s playing poker at the kitchen table as per usual. He’s finding ways to swindle people out of shit. I’m not sure I’ve ever met someone so competitive, but he seems set on winning at everything.

Sebastian’s sitting on the couch beside me chatting up his buddy Myth. I don’t know Myth well, only that he spends a lot of time with Sebastian. Apparently, they met a year ago when Myth moved from Seattle to California. And from what I gather, he’s been a fixture around the band ever since.

Right now, Sebastian and Myth are exaggerating a story about their latest show to get the attention of a few girls circling around them. If the guys in the band spent half as much time focusing on music as they do on picking up chicks, they probably would’ve made it big already. But that’s twenty-one-year-old guys for you, thinking with their fucking dicks.

I’d like to say I’m better than that, but it would be a lie. I’m not blind, and I haven’t failed to notice Eloise standing in a circle of women almost directly in front of me. Every time the song changes, she swishes her hips and seems to physically adjust to the music with her body, appreciating every pulse of the song playing. I’m not sure she even knows she does it.

She’s wearing a black tank top and red leather pants that might as well be liquid with how they hug her ass. Something myself and a few other guys in the room are noticing.

I watch them circle like vultures. Cutting in and out of the conversation in an attempt to draw her attention. I grip my glass tighter every time they get a little too handsy or press a little too close, waiting for one of them to cross a line and give me a reason to work out a little bit of my aggression, but they don’t.

Eloise either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, giving them the same friendly, but guarded smiles I’m becoming familiar with from her. It’s rare she spares real emotion for a person. That seems reserved for the select few who make it into her inner circle. A place I’m yet to be accepted.

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