Hard Rock Kiss Read online

  Hard Rock Kiss

  Athena Wright

  Copyright © 2018 Athena Wright

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Books in the Hard Rock Romance series

  (All can be read as standalones)

  Cherry Lips

  #0.5 Hard Rock Promise - Gael and Jessie's story (exclusive to newsletter subscribers)

  #1: Hard Rock Crush - Cerise and Liam's story

  #2: Hard Rock Kiss - Nathan and Becca's story

  #3: Julian's story

  #4: Seth's story

  Darkest Days

  #1 Hard Rock Tease - Noah and Jen's story

  #2 Hard Rock Fling - Ian and Hope's story

  #3 Hard Rock Sin - Cameron and Lily's story

  #4 Hard Rock Deceit - August and Cassie's story

  #5 Hard Rock Heat - Damon and Faith's story

  Feral Silence

  #1 Hard Rock Gaze - Jayce and Ailey's story

  #2 Hard Rock Voice - Kell and Emily's story

  #3 Hard Rock Touch - Ren and Ivy's store

  #4 Hard Rock Heart - Morris and Natalie's story

  Sign up to get Hard Rock Promise:

  www.athenawright.com/lips

  Summary

  Rock star god Nathan Walker is the first person to make me feel alive in years. But I can't let this happen. I can't let us happen. For my sake, and for his.

  Nathan Walker is famous. Rich. Gorgeous. A rock star god. The media says he goes through women like tissues. That he's never been seen with the same girl twice.

  From the minute we met, I knew there was something more to him.

  Every brush of his lips, every touch of his skin, makes my body, heart and soul sing.

  It's not just physical. In those moments we share together, I know he cares for me.

  Just like I'm beginning to care for him.

  But there's a secret I'm keeping from him. A secret that will change everything. A secret that could ruin his dreams, his future.

  Despite all the playboy rumors, I know Nathan would never intentionally hurt me.

  What if I have the power to hurt him?

  1

  The stack of magazines perched precariously in my arms was at risk of toppling to the floor. I quickly re-balanced the pile and set them down with a thump on the table.

  "Oh, sweetie, that's too many."

  "I'm okay, Helen. It's no trouble at all." I smiled at the woman sitting up in the hospital bed. "I was just on my way out when I remembered you were looking for something to read."

  "I think I'll have enough to read for the next year," she chuckled. Helen was a new patient. She hadn't been here long enough to have read all the old magazines we had lying around. "You're done for the day?"

  "Yeah, the little rugrats have worn me out," I replied. "Plus, I've got a late afternoon shift to get to."

  "I appreciate you taking the time to drop these off, Becca dear."

  "Like I said, it was no trouble."

  With a smile and a wave, I made my way back to the children's ward where I usually spent my time. I saw Tracey, the head volunteer, and nodded at her in greeting. The harried expression on her face melted into a grateful smile.

  "Thank you so much for all your help today, Becca," she said.

  "No need to thank me," I said. "I love hanging out with the kids."

  "So you'll be here the same time next week?" she asked. "They really look forward to seeing you."

  "I look forward to seeing them, too."

  Tracey waved me off and I went to get my purse. Although my cheeks were spread wide in a smile, I couldn't stop a small pang of sadness from hitting my chest. I loved coming to see the kids in the children's ward at the hospital. It was just, sometimes, I'd show up for my weekly visits, and there'd be a kid missing. We all knew what that meant.

  I was fiddling with the contents of my bag to try and rid myself of those morbid thoughts when something caught my eye.

  A dark figure was creeping along the hallways. It looked like a hunched over man, wearing a ball cap low over his eyes. He darted his head back and forth in a furtive motion.

  What was some sketchy guy doing lingering in the children's ward? My mind immediately went to the worst case scenarios.

  "Hey!" I called out. "What are you doing?"

  The man jumped as he turned back to look at me. His face was shadowed beneath the ball cap.

  "Do you have permission to be here?" I demanded. I wasn't about to let some sketchy guy sneak around like a creep. "Visiting hours are over."

  The guy quickly turned around and tried to slink off. I hustled over to him with quick steps, even as my heart pounded. I reached him and grabbed his arm, ready to march him over to the nearest nurse's station.

  He tried to shake me off but I kept my grip tight on his jacket. The man whirled around. I took a startled step back, wondering if maybe confronting him had been a bad idea.

  He took off his cap, revealing longish sandy brown hair. Deep blue eyes, set in a handsome face, met mine. I started back, my grip loosening. If this guy was a creeper, he was the most attractive creeper I'd ever seen.

  "You mind letting go?" he drawled in a low voice.

  In response, I fisted his jacket tighter. I wasn't going to let him off just because he was good looking.

  "You looking for an autograph?" he continued.

  My brows drew down into a frown. "Autograph?"

  He patted his pockets. "I'm sure I've got a pen somewhere."

  Nonplussed, I stared at him. He was probably just trying to distract me.

  "What are you doing lurking around in the kid's ward?" I asked.

  He lifted an eyebrow. "Lurking? I'm trying to find an exit."

  "You're acting all shifty," I accused. "Like you're up to no good."

  "Sweetheart, I'm never up to any good."

  There was a playful lilt to his low tones. A certain glint in his blue eyes. They turned his innocent words into something more. Something naughty.

  He scanned up and down my body, slowing, lingering. It felt as if flames were licking every inch of skin his eyes fell upon. By the time he dragged his gaze back to mine, my cheeks were on fire. A teasing smile crept across his full lips as my face turned pink.

  "You work here?" he asked. "Maybe you can help me find a side exit?"

  He must have noted my t-shirt with the hospital's logo. I let go of his jacket and stepped back, putting space between us.

  "Can't you just walk out the front door like a normal person?" I asked, trying not to sound flustered.

  "Ah. No." The teasing smile turned rueful. "I can't, actually."

  "Why not?"

  He cocked his head to the side, a question in his eyes as he held my gaze. A sort of challenge, almost. The rest of the world went fuzzy as I tried to decipher exactly what answer he might be looking for. My limbs felt like lead, as if they were weighed down by something heavy and dense. The tips of my ears burned.

  He broke our staring contest. "You have no idea who I am, do you?"

  I blinked, everything coming back into focus again. My hands trembled.

  What in the world had that been?

  I hadn't reacted to anyone like that in… well, years, really. And I'd never had anyone send me reeling with a single look.

  Somehow I managed to find my voice.

  "Am I supposed to know you who are?" I asked. "Are you some famous movie star or something?"

  I'd been kidding, but the corner of his lips curled up. "Close."

  I started. This guy was something close to a movie
star?

  "An athlete?" I asked. "I don't pay much attention to sports."

  "That guess is not as close."

  I studied him carefully. He was handsome enough to be an actor, but he said that wasn't it. He was tall with broad shoulders, but not so large as to be some football player.

  I caught a hint of a tattoo peeking out from the collar of his t-shirt.

  "A tattoo artist?" I guessed, even though I couldn't name a single famous tattoo artist.

  "Way off." His eyes twinkled. He was enjoying this.

  He certainly was handsome. With sandy-blond hair falling into his eyes and an easygoing expression, he had that cute boy-next-door look. But from the teasing smirk on his lips and the way his eyes wandered slowly up and down my body, I had a feeling this boy-next-door was really the guy your parents always warned you about.

  "A model?" I asked.

  "I have modeled, yes, but that's not it."

  "I don't know," I said, frustrated. "Some internet celebrity with a million followers who like and share every food photo you post?"

  "I'm not an internet celebrity, but I do have a lot of followers," he said. "That's why I'm looking for a side exit. Someone spotted me here and posted it online. Now I've got a bunch of fans waiting outside for me."

  "People actually do that?"

  "Sure do."

  I couldn't figure out who he was, but if he said he had people waiting outside to ambush him, then I'd believe him.

  "Okay, I'll help you out," I said. "Follow me."

  His eyes lit up. "Thanks gorgeous. Appreciate the help."

  I fought not to flush at the endearment.

  I guided him down the hallway and around a corner, taking him to a stairwell that lead to a side exit near the far end of the parking lot.

  "Just go through here, follow the signs to the exit and you can avoid your fans altogether."

  "And I can come back in this way?" he asked.

  I nodded, realizing he'd still never told me why he was in the hospital in the first place.

  "Were you visiting someone?" I asked.

  His blue eyes grew darker, sadder. He nodded once. "Yeah."

  "I'm sorry," I said.

  "For what?" he asked.

  "It's really hard to have a friend or family member in the hospital when they're hurt or sick. So I'm sorry. I hope they get better soon."

  He looked surprised before a genuine smile crept across his lips. It was the first expression I'd seen on him that wasn't teasing or toying. "Thanks. That's sweet of you." A thoughtful look crossed his face before he patted at his pockets again. He pulled out a long, thin piece of paper.

  "Are you going to give me an autograph after all?" I asked.

  "Something better. As thanks for helping me." He pushed the paper into my hand. "What's your name?"

  "Becca Miller."

  "Go to the side door, give them your name and tell them Nathan invited you. I'll make sure you're on the list."

  Nathan. The handsome guy's name was Nathan.

  "List?" I repeated.

  He nodded and leaned down. I inhaled sharply as his face came closer. I nearly crushed the paper in my fist. My eyes fell to his lips. A spike of anticipation shot through me.

  He bopped me on the nose with a finger and grinned.

  "You better show up on time," he said.

  Nathan pushed open the heavy doors. With a wave of his hand, he strolled through, calling over his shoulder.

  "I hope that's enough of a hint, Becca."

  The double doors closed behind him.

  I looked down at the paper in my hand.

  It was a concert ticket for a rock show being held in a week. For a band called Cherry Lips.

  My mouth dropped.

  I knew Cherry Lips. They were everywhere. Their music played non-stop on the radio. They had crazy fans all over the internet. Their music videos had millions of views.

  I recognized him now.

  Attractive Creeper Nathan was Nathan Walker, infamous guitarist of Cherry Lips.

  He wasn't a movie star, or an athlete or a model.

  The man who'd just sent shivers down my spine was a rock star god.

  2

  I did the only thing a sane person would do.

  I stalked the guy online.

  Nathan Walker. Guitarist of Cherry Lips. I'd seen their music videos a couple times and their songs were great, but I wanted to know more about him specifically.

  As I scrolled through the search results on my phone, I found accolade after accolade, music journalists gushing about his natural talent and passion, along with lists of awards, both industry and fan-based.

  Speaking of fans, he apparently had hordes of them, and from what I'd read, he plowed through those girls like tissues. Unlike some of his band members who were in committed relationships, it seemed Nathan had never slept with the same girl twice.

  I nearly snorted. Typical rock star.

  He had been telling the truth when he said he'd done some modeling. My eyes grew wide when I found a series of ads for a brand of boxers. I couldn't see the point of those ads. With the way he held his guitar in a suggestive pose across his lower body, the boxers weren't even visible. And considering he wasn't wearing anything else…

  I hastily shoved my phone into my pocket.

  I'd never been to a concert before. I had looked up the venue, wondering what it might be like. Cherry Lips usually sold out stadiums, but this was a smaller one-off performance, invitation-only for diehard fans.

  When I looked up, I found myself standing in front of a large Victorian mansion converted into a music hall. Hundreds of fans were already lined up at the door, snaking around the sidewalk, and continuing down the street for blocks. Most kept to themselves with quiet murmurs, but there were small pockets playing songs on their phones at max volume and singing along at the top of their lungs. The line was moving, albeit slowly, as the concert attendees filed into the venue one-by-one.

  I couldn't help but wonder what to expect. Would there be mosh pits? The thought made me a bit panicky. I didn't know if I'd be able to handle that. But Nathan said to go to the side door. Maybe my ticket gave me access to a special section away from the pit. It did say VIP on it, after all.

  I walked around the building until I found a dented metal door with a beefy guy standing in front of it, arms crossed. His expression remained stern as I approached.

  "Hello." I gave him a small wave and immediately felt stupid.

  "Line's that way," he grunted with a nod of his chin.

  "Yes, I know."

  His eyes narrowed. I powered on.

  "I'm supposed to tell you Nathan invited me. He said something about a list…?"

  The guy, who was either a bouncer or bodyguard, blatantly scanned me up and down. A doubtful look crossed his face. "You?"

  The emphasis on the word was almost insulting. What was so wrong with me?

  "Yes, me," I said stiffly. I brandished my ticket. "This thing here says VIP."

  "Name?" he barked.

  I felt the urge to straighten my back and salute. "Becca Miller."

  Without a word, he pounded on the door and stepped aside. It swung open to reveal a frazzled looking woman wearing a headset and carrying a clipboard.

  "Got one for Nathan," the bouncer/bodyguard said.

  The woman scrutinized me, eyes lingered on my feet, clad in well-worn sneakers, then trailed up the rest of me, a simple black top and jeans. I was graced with my second doubtful look in one night.

  Maybe I'd dressed wrong and they didn't think I belonged here. Maybe I was supposed to be wearing fishnet tights or a band t-shirt or something.

  "Do you have a ticket?" the woman asked. I showed it to her. Her eyes flicked to the bouncer. "She's on the list?"

  "The only name on the list tonight," the beefy guy replied.

  She handed me a green lanyard with a VIP label. As I put it around my neck, she gestured quickly for me to step through the door and shut i
t behind us.

  We were in a large room full of people rushing back and forth. Some were carrying large pieces of equipment while others spoke into the same kind of headsets the frazzled woman was wearing.

  "Concert starts in thirty minutes," she said. "Pit's down there if you want a front row seat or you can watch backstage over here. Artist lounge is back there."

  She paused for a second, eyes going distant. She touched her earpiece and scowled.

  "Shit," she said into the mic. "Okay. I'm on it." Her eyes returned to me. "Whatever you do, don't get in anyone's way."

  "Thank—" I began to say, but she was already moving along. "—you…" I followed her with my eyes as she went over to a young-looking girl with a cherub face and started chewing her out.

  I looked around haplessly. I thought I'd be led to some special seat where I could watch the concert up close. Instead, I'd been unceremoniously dumped backstage with no other instruction aside from don't get in the way.

  I stood with my back to the wall and observed for a few minutes to get my bearings. Everything seemed rushed and intense. It was stressing me out, and I was only watching.

  But I soon noticed that, if you really paid attention, there was a sort of calming flow to it all. Everyone knew their role and they all deftly maneuvered around each other as they completed their tasks.

  "Hey, you there," a harried looking man said to me. I thought he might yell at me to get out of the way but instead he shoved a flashlight into my hands. "Point it over there," the guy demanded.

  Confused, I did as he asked, lighting up a small metal box in a dark corner of the wall. He pried it open and used both hands to twist knobs and flip switches. He closed the box, took the flashlight back and hurried off without another look.

  "You're welcome," I called out as he hurried along.

  "Hey, gorgeous."

  A familiar voice spoke from behind me. I turned.