Rock Legend Read online

  It was no use. I was too close to Landon for any semblance of normalcy.

  Intending to head for the parking garage and send Delaney a text from the limo, I was reaching for the doorknob when it was yanked open from the other side—by the last person on earth I wanted to see.

  My heartbeat stuttered for a brief second, then took off at a full gallop, racing through my veins.

  Watching Landon Cox on stage from forty feet away had been bad enough. But here, now, close enough to touch, I was jolted by the power of his presence.

  Still shirtless and sweating after an intense performance, my eyes danced over the rippling muscles rising from beneath the inked skin of Landon’s naked torso, his broad shoulders tapering to slim hips, perfect V cuts forming an arrow pointing south.

  Vitality seeping from every pore.

  My gaze was drawn inexorably upward. Blond hair a damp mess, the faintest trace of stubble darkening a jawline that could have been cut from marble. A face so symmetrical, so severely beautiful, it would take even the most talented sculptor a lifetime to get right.

  Landon Cox was a fantasy in the flesh.

  I’d imagined this very moment dozens—no, hundreds—of times. But now that the moment was here, Landon and I, alone in a room again after all these years, I had nothing.

  In a blink, Landon’s expression wavered. His winged brows, three shades darker than the hair sweeping across his forehead, pulled together. Eyes like hot coals burning into me.

  As if the sight of me caused him pain.

  I tore my gaze away from his face, but it only landed on the swaths of ink covering his chest and extending over his arms. My mouth watered at the sight. I wanted to trace every tattoo with my tongue, every slash and swirl and stripe. After six years, how would Landon taste?

  Like regret, I realized with a sickening thud. Because regret was all that remained of what we’d once shared.

  Landon

  One minute I was trying to decide which chick I’d let blow me in my dressing room and the next…The next, I was blown away.

  Caught completely off guard, I could only stare.

  Piper Hastings.

  Shock rippled through me, my heart pounding against my ribs.

  Not quite a full head shorter than me, Piper’s blonde hair fell to her shoulders, like sunshine that had been spun into silk. Those fathomless blue eyes I hadn’t seen in years—except for the countless nights they’d haunted my dreams—went from surprise to horror in seconds as she took a reflexive step back, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

  I fought an urge to close the distance between us, hard. Shoving my hands into my pockets, I somehow managed to resist the itch to plow them through Piper’s hair, to wrap those golden strands in my fists as I plundered her lips.

  “Piper…Long time, no see.” Judging from the animosity clinging to her skin like a shadow, I had no doubt she would sooner bite my tongue off than kiss me back. “You enjoy the show?”

  One shoulder lifted in a dismissive shrug. “Your fans seemed satisfied.”

  I grunted at the insinuation that Piper wasn’t one of them. “We aim to please.”

  The perimeter of blue wrapped around her pupils brightened, flashing at me like a warning sign. “No one more than yourself, I’m sure.”

  Piper may as well have waved a red flag at a bull. That spark inside her—it sure as hell wasn’t indifference. Proof she still felt something for me kindled hope inside my chest, triggering a throaty growl. “Once upon a time, I pleased you.”

  Piper took another step back. “Once upon a time? You might want to hold off on the fairy-tale comparisons. You’re no Prince Charming, Landon.”

  She was right, of course. Gallant, I was not. Never wanted to be, either. I’d grown a thick skin early in life, and the only one who’d ever gotten under it, burrowing way down deep, was the woman in front of me.

  “Actually,” I said, extending my arms out in either direction. “Haven’t you heard? I’m a fucking legend.”

  She leveled an icy glare my way. “You’re a fucking asshole.”

  One corner of my lips quirked up. Fire and ice, my Pippa. “That, too.”

  Some of her anger melted away at my response. Her expression softened, easing into a sideways smile on the way to a full-fledged grin. A soft laugh escaped through her lips, light and sweet and more beautiful than any music I’d ever made.

  It was contagious.

  Laughter shook the air between us. Eye-watering belly laughs that sucked the tension right out of the room. And that urge, the one I’d temporarily managed to push down, came roaring back with a vengeance. I snaked my arm around Piper’s narrow waist, pulling her into the well of my chest. Holding tight.

  Energy from our contact raced up my arms, spreading along every vein, every nerve ending. I looked down, needing to drink in the sight of her beautiful face.

  The mood shifted, until we were holding on to each other for reasons that had nothing to do with ego or anger, and everything to do with lust.

  Fire and ice.

  Hot and cold.

  Love and hate.

  Our eyes met, laughter fizzling into a wary, charged silence. Piper whimpered—a nervous, desperate sound I wanted to swallow. Swipe my tongue against the doubts rising from her skin like steam off the sea. Devour her obvious reluctance and expose the desire filling her sweet center.

  Piper’s spine arched away from me, as if her head was trying to tell the rest of her body to pull away but the message got lost before her feet could step back. My hands roamed down her sides, curving against her ass, fitting her tightly against me so the proof of my interest was impossible to deny.

  We fit together. Perfectly.

  Even after all this time.

  Did Piper feel it, too?

  If she didn’t, I was about to show her.

  I walked Piper back a few steps, until she was pressed against the arm of the couch. “I—we shouldn’t,” she panted.

  “Yes. We should.” Another growl, primal and possessive, rose up inside me as I lifted her. Long legs wrapped around my hips, nestling me exactly where I really wanted to be. “We definitely should.”

  Our mouths were an inch apart, her breath warm on my lips as I inhaled her scent. Sweet, but with a little kick to it. Like she’d covered up a round of pre-show shots—Fireball, or maybe tequila—with spearmint gum. Her favorite, I remembered.

  Fuck, I’d missed this girl.

  An explosion sounded, somewhere beyond the closed door, loud enough that Piper jumped. “It’s okay,” I soothed. “Just the pyro guys cleaning up.”

  But the moment was broken.

  Piper shivered, dropping her forehead to my shoulder as she unwrapped her legs and slid down my length. My dick pulsed, trying to find a way through the zipper.

  “I—I should go.”

  “No, don’t. I shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry.”

  She tilted her head to that side, regarding me seriously. “No, you’re not.”

  “No.” I tossed a smirk her way. “You’re right. I’m not sorry at all.”

  She made a strangled noise in the back of her throat, like she didn’t know whether to run or pull me down for a kiss. I knew which option had my vote.

  “I really should go.” Not the one I was hoping for.

  “We’ll go together.” After six years, I wasn’t ready to let her go again so soon. Wherever Piper went was where I wanted to be.

  She shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  “Why not?” she repeated, giving a slow blink. “You’re really going to ask me that?”

  Piper’s bristling indignation should have bothered me—but it didn’t. I soaked it up with a grin, loving the way she defended herself even as I hated that she felt obliged to defend herself from me. Not that I could blame her. “Yes. It’s been a long time. We should catch up. I want to know what you’ve been doing the past few years.” Six. Years.
>
  And who she’d been doing it with.

  Had she thought of me, dreamed of me?

  Had she missed me?

  Anger rose up in my gut, but it had nowhere to go. It just sat, festering, as I stared at Piper Hastings.

  Because it was all directed inward. Every moment I’d missed with the woman in front of me, it was all my own damn fault.

  Piper closed her eyes, a frown digging between her brows as a silent battle was waged within her mind.

  Who was she fighting?

  Because I wanted her to be fighting me. In battles there were winners and losers. Victors and vanquished. If Piper wanted to square off, I’d vault into the damned ring.

  Seeing Piper again after all this time was all it took to strip away the elaborate pretense I’d fooled myself into believing—that I was doing fine without her.

  I wasn’t.

  And on the anniversary of the day I’d lost everything, maybe I would get a second chance at something real.

  A second chance at a prize that truly mattered.

  I’d been too stupid to see the truth six years ago.

  Too stupid, too selfish, too self-righteous.

  But before I could ask for another chance, those blue orbs snapped open, the crease smoothed away. Decision made. “Landon, if you deserved to know, you already would.”

  Her voice was soft, an echo of all the intimate whispers that had once passed between us. Soft, but steely. Determined. Cutting through what little remained of my conscience with ease, flaying me to the core.

  There was no denying that she was right. So fucking right.

  Six years ago, I’d traded Piper’s intimate whispers for center-stage drum solos, her dazzling smiles for the anonymous adoration of a million faceless fans.

  I had a hell of a nerve asking anything from Piper.

  I didn’t deserve answers to my questions.

  I didn’t deserve access to her body, or her thoughts.

  Money and fame weren’t worthy tender for a woman like Piper. No matter how many Billboard hits I accumulated, or how many zeros I added to the bottom line of my bank account—I would never deserve her. I lost that right a long time ago, when I walked away without a backward glance, so afraid that if I turned around, even for just for a split second, I’d be incapable of leaving her at all. Ever.

  And I’d been running from the regret ever since.

  I didn’t deserve her then and I sure as hell didn’t deserve her now.

  Except I couldn’t take my eyes away from the curve of her lips. There was a time they’d worn a smile meant just for me.

  A ghost of that same smile had reappeared tonight, just for a moment. An apparition that was already haunting me.

  Chapter Three

  Piper

  Landon Cox barely resembled the struggling musician who had stolen my heart. Back then, he’d been a drummer who didn’t even own a complete set of drums, a man who could fit all of his belongings into one beat up duffel.

  Now, he was a rock star for god’s sake.

  And a stranger.

  Even so, something deep in the marrow of my bones was responding to him in a way that was all too familiar, his mere presence sending an undeniable shiver of awareness down my spine.

  Feeling light-headed, I reminded myself to take slow, even breaths.

  I wanted to leave.

  Landon wanted to follow.

  A situation that was exactly the opposite of where we’d been six years ago.

  Payback was a bitch.

  And right now, that’s who I needed to be. A bitch who could walk away from Landon Cox with her head held high, impervious to his charms.

  A bitch he wouldn’t want to follow.

  I mustered my haughtiest glower. “I’m leaving. Alone.” I’d learned the hard way that so much of life was out of my hands. The only thing I could truly control was me.

  And Landon couldn’t have me.

  Landon’s features rearranged themselves into a hardened veneer I could no longer see through. A veneer I was willing to bet he didn’t let anyone see through. His eyes swung away from my face, looking me up and down, inspecting my body with a sensual ease.

  My skin prickled with awareness, nipples dragging against the lace of my bra with each shuddering inhale.

  Being around Landon had apparently severed my mind-body connection. Because my mind wanted to be an imperious bitch, but my body wanted to be an irresistible vamp.

  Landon noticed. “You sure that’s what you want?” The pure intensity of his gaze brought back a flood of memories that had nothing to do with his ultimate betrayal.

  Instead, I recalled sweet, stolen kisses and shared confessions. A baseball diamond worth of memories. Even home plate.

  Especially home plate.

  Landon hadn’t stolen home, though. I’d given it all too willingly. Blissfully.

  If I could, I’d snatch it right back.

  Damn him.

  Six years ago, Landon had put me on a pedestal, and the view had been beautiful. But I shouldn’t have let him. Because when he took off, kicking it out from underneath me, the fall had been brutal. Hitting the ground, I hadn’t just lost my breath. I’d broken bones, shattered them completely. The jagged slivers hadn’t pierced skin though. Instead, they left wounds so deep they didn’t even show.

  Wounds so deep they’d never healed.

  Landon Cox taught me what love felt like, even how it tasted.

  Our love was like the first sip of celebratory champagne, the first bite of chocolate soufflé. Bubbly and decadent, so good I didn’t know when to stop. Devouring it until I was sick.

  Lovesick.

  And I never wanted to feel that way again.

  A deep-rooted instinct for self-preservation kicked in, giving me the momentum to duck beneath Landon’s arm. I needed to leave. And I needed Landon to stay. Because there was only so much of the man I could resist. If I fell again, I might never get back up. “You want me to spell it out for you? I’m leaving. You’re not.” The finger I pushed into his chest was meant to underscore my intention. His pecs flexed beneath it, sending a surge of desire to throb between my legs.

  Jesus, I was so weak.

  Recoiling as if I’d been burned, I yanked at the door and propelled myself through it.

  I didn’t make it very far. Landon’s long legs caught up with me in just a few strides, his hand grasping mine, our fingers entwining as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

  I stopped in my tracks, my jaw dropping as a slew of indignant words lined up to jump off my tongue. “Take your—”

  “There he is!” A blonde and a brunette came rushing up, wearing only enough clothing to cover the essentials—barely. The dark-haired one slid between me and Landon, her hip crashing into mine with the accuracy and force of an NHL player.

  But right then, I was grateful for her complete lack of subtlety, wrenching my hand from Landon’s grip and stumbling toward the nearest exit.

  Landon

  Shaking off the brunette, I bummed a baseball cap and windbreaker from one of the security guys and caught up with Piper as she made her way to the underground parking lot. A platoon of black SUVs, town cars, and one pimped-out silver limousine waited, exhaust from the idling vehicles thick and foul inside my throat.

  A driver sporting a silver tux, ostensibly to match the limo, jumped out of the front seat and darted to open the back door, grinning like a fool as Piper charged toward him.

  I slid in just behind her, pulling the door closed myself. Fierce blue eyes slammed into me. “Don’t you dare.”

  “What? Can’t a guy catch a ride?”

  “No. Get out.”

  Because I’d always been a good listener, I rapped on the roof of the car, barking, “Drive.”

  Back in the front seat, the driver, who looked like he’d gotten his license yesterday, blushed an uncomfortable shade of red. “Sir, I believe the lady—”

  The kid had good manners, I’d give h
im that. He was probably working to buy his sweetheart a night at the nearby Courtyard so their first time would be a magical experience. I whipped off my hat, staring pointedly at him through the rearview mirror. His flush deepened. “Lan— I mean, Mr. Cox. I’m so sorry, I didn’t recognize—”

  “You’ll drive now, yeah.” It wasn’t a question.

  He still hesitated, eyes flicking to Piper. “Uh, are you sure—”

  Piper flashed me a venomous look, scooting to the farthest end of the bench seat. “It’s fine,” she said, taking pity on the kid. “You can drop me off at my place. Mr. Cox will not be coming in.”

  I raised the privacy partition once the driver began maneuvering out of the parking garage, waiting until we had merged onto the highway before I shifted my back against the door, the borrowed jacket rustled as I angled my body toward Piper. “You don’t have to run away from me.”

  “Like you should talk,” she scoffed, folding her arms over her chest and looking pointedly out the window.

  “Pippa—”

  Even from my angle, I saw her wince. “You don’t get to call me that. Not anymore.”

  I exhaled a heavy sigh, my unmet stare filled with remorse. “I had my reasons.”

  Her head swiveled back to me. “Reasons, huh?” Her arched brow was a silent dare to list them.

  A dare I wasn’t about to accept. I could barely admit my reasons to myself, let alone say them out loud.

  An uneasy silence descended. The driver hadn’t turned the radio on, so our soundtrack was wheels on asphalt and the whoosh of cars passing cars, punctuated by the occasional horn or siren. My bones ached from the tension.

  I owed Piper an apology. That was why I’d followed her. But would it mean anything without an explanation?

  Probably not.

  The only thing I knew for sure was that I wasn’t ready to leave her side.

  Several minutes passed. “Who were those women?” Piper’s voice was coolly indifferent, only the rigid set of her shoulders revealing that she cared about my answer.

  “Who—the ones back at the arena?”

  She gave a jerky nod, not saying anything.