Page 17 of Sins of a Rebel

I moan when he pulls back, not wanting him to stop.

“Let’s go back to my place where we can have a little privacy.” He smirks, his voice low and throaty.

I nod, and he laces our fingers and leads me around to his side of the truck. I quickly climb in and take the spot next to him.

He turns the ignition and rests his hand on my thigh as we pull out of the parking lot.

We make small talk the whole drive back to his house. He asks about my work shift, and I tell him about the storm that hit earlier this morning, making for a quiet day at the shop. We chat about their show the night before and the after-party he hit up with the guys.

My stomach sinks, wondering who he may have been with, before forcing the thought out of my mind.

I hate how jealous I feel when I know the lifestyle that comes along with dating a rock star.

He turns into the driveway of his little white house on the edge of Carolina Beach. His grandma owned it before she passed away, leaving it to him.

I don’t know much about his home life, only the bits and pieces I’ve heard from Madden over the years. All I know is it was bad enough that he petitioned the court to be emancipated after she died.

He’s lived here on his own ever since.

His grandma left him a good chunk of money to help take care of him. I don’t know for certain, but I suspect it’s why his mom treats him the way she does. She’s bitter that her mother cared more about her grandson, leaving everything she had to him.

At least that’s the story Madden shared with our parents one day when they asked why on earth Tysin lived in the house by himself.

He puts it in park and cuts the engine, bathing us in darkness.

There’s a streetlight behind us, giving a hint of light, enough for me to see him staring at me.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since the last time we were together,” he whispers.

My heart seizes, and I press my lips together, knowing full well the size of my smile would give away how happy it made me to hear.

“Me either,” I whisper.

He brushes his finger over the skin of my inner thigh, and my body relaxes, my legs falling open a little more.

“I promise I didn’t invite you over here for any reason other than to hang out, but I’m finding it hard to resist you now that I’ve given in and had a taste.”

I tilt my head up, resting my chin on his shoulder. I wish he’d keep going and tell me what else he’s been thinking about. “You won’t see me try to stop you either.”

His eyes burn into my lips before he leans in and kisses me again.

“Let’s go inside. I thought maybe we could watch a movie.”

“Sounds good to me.” I grin.

I’ve been to Tysin’s house before, but we’ve always stuck to hanging out in the basement where their equipment is set up for band practice.

Being in his house, in his space, made me feel closer to him.

The walls are covered with wallpaper, a mixture of mulberries and peonies with green vines. There’s a dark brown couch facing a big-screen TV with a matching recliner next to it. It’s cozy and a bit outdated, not at all what you’d expect to find in Tysin’s home. If I had to guess, he hasn’t changed anything about the space since his grandma lived here with him six years ago.

He pulls me into his arms, and I tuck my head under his chin, resting my cheek against his chest. I close my eyes at the sound of his heart beating, tightening my arms around his waist to soak it all in.

“What sort of movie do you wanna watch?” He steps back, lifting my chin to look at him. “I’m up for anything as long as you don’t force me to sit through all the lovey-dovey shit.”

“I guess that’s okay. I don’t need you getting any ideas.”

His brow raises.

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