Fight the Spark: Sons of Sinners Part 1 (A Rock Star Romance) Page 4

  “It’s...lived in,” I observed, looking at the door-less glove box, stuffed full of CDs and the rear-view mirror that was held on with duct tape. “I like it, it looks like it could tell some stories.”

  “No doubt. But never let Blake hear you say that or he’ll actually tell you the stories.”

  “That would be bad?”

  “You have no idea.”

  “He sounds interesting.”

  “He’s definitely that,” Connor said as he started the Chevy up and drove it out of the parking lot. “He’s probably gonna try and fuck you.”

  “What?!” I practically shrieked in shock.

  He glanced over at me and smiled grimly. “Just to fuck with me, he’ll try it on with you.” He shrugged. “He’s a dick.”

  I stared at him. “Why would he do that?”

  “He might not.”

  “But he has before?”

  “Yeah.”

  “He’s actually slept with girls you’ve...dated?”

  Connor smirked, and I knew it was because of my choice of words. “Is that what we’re doing?” he asked. “Dating?”

  My cheeks heated furiously. “I – I wasn’t talking about us...”

  “You mean you don’t want to date me…?”

  Completely embarrassed, I looked away. There was no way I was going to answer that question.

  “Are you holding out for Blake, is that it?” I heard the amusement in his voice. Making me uncomfortable seemed to be his single greatest joy in life.

  “No!” I said, a little too aggressively.

  I heard him chuckle. “No, he hasn’t actually slept with any of the girls I’ve been with – as far as I know. It’s just a game to him. He gets off on making people feel awkward.”

  “I know someone else like that,” I said dryly. “Must run in the family.”

  Connor just laughed.

  15

  We drove downtown and before long we were passing through a neighborhood where everything seemed a little run down or in varying states of disarray. The houses had that neglected look about them that suggested that the owners had little money or inclination to fix them up; there were children’s toys abandoned in front yards and cars on the side of the road that had seen better days – some looked like they would never start again.

  “This is it,” Connor said, gesturing to a small house on a corner, set apart from its neighbors and surrounded by a low chain link fence. It was a wooden structure, with peeling paint and steps leading up to the front door that looked like they may collapse at any minute. As Connor pulled the Chevy onto the driveway I could already hear the thudding of music and the loud babble of voices coming from inside.

  Connor led me through the open front door, straight in to a fairly small, open plan living area, comprised of a living room and kitchen-diner. There were three doors leading off of the living area to the right. Two of the doors were shut, but the middle door stood open, revealing a small, dingy looking bathroom.

  There were people everywhere. I’d never seen so many people packed into such a small space.

  “Hey, man!” A guy approached us through the crowd, smiling amiably as he fist bumped Connor. He was quite short for a guy, only a couple of inches taller than me, but what he lacked in height he made up for in muscle, his biceps looked bigger than my waist. His light brown hair was cropped close to his skull in a buzz cut. Basically, he looked like he could beat a heavyweight boxer to death without breaking a sweat. But his hazel eyes were warm and when they lit on me, his smile widened. “You must be Amy. Nice to meet you. Make yourself at home.”

  “Thanks – nice to meet you too. You must be Blake, right?” I asked, assuming he was Connor’s cousin.

  He chuckled good-naturedly. “Hell, no! I’m Kane, his roommate – Blake’s out back.” He turned his attention back to Connor. “We’re all set up, man. Ready when you are.”

  “Let’s do it,” Connor said. He held my hand tightly as he led me through the throng with Kane following behind. Every few feet someone clapped Connor on the back, or fist bumped him, or bro hugged him, or, in the case of some of the women, kissed him on the cheek.

  “Do you know everyone here?” I asked as we wound our way through the crowd towards the back of the house, where a door opened onto a narrow deck.

  “Pretty much. I’ve lived here all my life, so have the rest of the guys. And we all went to the same high school – Blake and Kane are three years older – so yeah, no one really leaves this neighborhood. Everyone knows everyone.”

  We emerged onto the deck and Connor paused, glancing around the small yard. Then he grinned at me. “The stage,” he said, pointing across the yard.

  A drum kit had been set up near to the chain link fence at the back of the yard and a guitar and bass had been hooked up to two squat, battered amps. There was another rough looking amp a little way in front of the rest of the instruments, this one was hooked up to a microphone, which lay on top of it. There were extension cords running from the back door of the house to the equipment set up in the yard.

  “You’re playing there?”

  He nodded and opened his mouth to speak, but he was cut off by a deep voice yelling his name from the other end of the deck. “CONNOR! Finally! What the fuck took you so long?”

  Then I saw him for the first time.

  He was striding along the deck towards us, beer in hand, a huge grin on his face. If I hadn’t already been so completely besotted with Connor, I’m pretty sure I would have swooned. He looked like a movie star. Almost like a creature of mythology. Just like...wow. One of those guys who could probably have almost any woman he wanted just by clicking his fingers and pointing to his crotch.

  His hair was dark and perfectly straight, but messy in a careless Hey! I just woke up like this! kind of way. His eyes were so incredibly blue – they looked like sapphires glinting from under dark, sculpted brows. They danced with amusement, like he was the only one in on a huge joke. His strong, incredibly masculine jaw was dusted with dark stubble.

  He wore an old, grey Guns n’ Roses t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. His arms were covered in tattoos – two full sleeves of intricate and artistic designs: images, symbols, lettering, all flowing and curling into one another seamlessly.

  He was board and muscular, his pecks stretching his shirt out slightly. His right bicep flexed, his tattoos rippling, as he brought his beer to his mouth and took a long, leisurely swig. His jeans were slung low, faded and worn out, and held up by a wide, leather belt. His black work boots were scuffed and battered – the laces were undone and hung down almost to the floor.

  He was an education in rough, unkempt cool.

  He exuded sin and sex.

  And he ruined it all immediately.

  As he reached us his eyes snapped down to mine and he blinked, before looking me up and down slowly, like a predator about to devour his prey. His gaze lingered on my lips and his smile faltered slightly, before transforming into an evil smirk.

  “Ah, now I get it,” he said, looking back at Connor. “Did you fuck her in my truck on the way over here?” He reached down with one hand and, very slowly and very obviously, gripped his belt buckle and adjusted it slightly – the innuendo was pretty clear. “‘Cause that’s what I would’ve done...the stuck-up ones are always nice and tight.”

  16

  Did you fuck her in my truck on the way over here? ‘Cause that’s what I would’ve done...the stuck-up ones are always nice and TIGHT.

  My mouth dropped open in disbelief and the blood rushed to my cheeks in absolute mortification at the crude words.

  “Jesus, Blake!” Connor snapped.

  “This is your cousin?!” I asked, my voice a little shriller than I had intended.

  “Sure is,” Connor said, glaring at Blake but talking to me. “Told you he’d be a dick.”

  I scrutinized Blake more closely, searching for physical similarities to Connor. There weren’t many that I could see – aside from the fact tha
t they both had a strong jaw and were ridiculously hot. Blake was a good few inches taller than Connor, at least six four, and though they were both broad, Connor was more athletic-looking whereas Blake was more in Spartan Warrior league.

  Seemingly unaware of my analysis, or even my existence at that point, Blake finished the last of his beer and tossed the bottle into a bucket of empties. Then he squared up to Connor with a big, shit-eating grin plastered across his face. Connor released my hand and squared his shoulders in return – they stood almost toe to toe, as if they were going to throw down any second.

  Then, out of nowhere, quick as lightening, Blake grabbed Connor’s shoulders and shook him violently. “Just FUCKIN’ with ya man!” he shouted in his face, his expression one of manic glee.

  For a split second, Connor didn’t react – then he launched himself at Blake, shoving him backwards across the deck. Blake hooked an arm around Connor’s neck as he stumbled back, and pulled him into a headlock. Connor thrashed and writhed in his grasp but Blake held on, scrubbing his other hand through Connor’s hair, even as Connor kicked out at him.

  At first I was horrified – then I realized that they were both laughing.

  “They’re real mature,” a male voice said.

  I turned in surprise to see Kane standing next to me. I had completely forgotten that he was there.

  “Are they always like this?” I asked.

  He frowned in mock sympathy. “I want to say no, but I think you deserve the truth.”

  Soon, Blake and Connor broke apart, breathing heavily and giggling like kids. Blake clapped Connor on the back and said “Show time, buddy!” Then he turned abruptly and walked towards their makeshift stage. I stared after him, dumbfounded.

  Connor came back over to me and tugged his hoodie off over his head, revealing a tight, white wife beater which only served to accentuate his toned arms and shoulders.

  My God, those Maxwell cousins had good genes. Even if their manners left a lot to be desired.

  “See how I defended your honor?” he asked, still grinning as he handed me his hoodie.

  “Yeah…thanks for that.”

  “No problem.” He dropped a quick kiss to my cheek before heading after Blake.

  17

  I watched as Connor settled behind the drum kit and Blake picked up the microphone and started flicking power switches. Kane approached them and picked up his bass, picking at the strings and turning a couple of tuning pegs. Last to join them was Derren, who slung the strap of his guitar over his slim shoulder before sweeping his shoulder length hair back and tying it in a rough man-bun. He caught my eye and nodded a greeting.

  “Hey, groupie,” a familiar voice said from just behind me. I turned to see Hayley grinning at me excitedly.

  “Hey, you came!”

  “Told you I’d be here, I came with Derren.”

  “So, the friends-with-benefits situation is working out?”

  She linked her arm through mine and her face took on a blissed out look. “It’s maybe more than friends-with-benefits now.”

  “Oh, really? I did not see that one coming,” I teased.

  She chuckled. “I know, we’ve known each other since we were kids and we’ve tried this before, but this time it just feels different.”

  “Different how?”

  “Well, he does this thing with his tongue –”

  “Forget I asked!” I cut her off laughing. “You’re obsessed!”

  “There are worse things to be obsessed with than sex,” she chirruped.

  Just then I heard Blake’s voice holler through the speaker at his feet. “Alright, fuckers! Get the fuck out of my goddamn house and come listen to us play!”

  A cheer went up from the people in the backyard; it travelled quickly through the house, like a Mexican wave of sound, and people started streaming from the back door and into the yard. Pretty soon the yard was full.

  “FUCK, YEAH!” Blake bellowed, grinning manically from ear to ear.

  As I watched, he caught my eye and winked. I wrinkled my nose in distaste and I saw him smirk with dark amusement before I turned my attentions to the rest of the band.

  Connor beat out a mini drum solo, quieting the crowd. Blake turned to him and nodded and Connor held his sticks above his head and cracked them together four times before he brought them down hard on the drums and the band launched into their first song.

  I had to admit, they were incredible. Even in a backyard, on a patch of dusty ground with beat up gear, they blew me away. Their raw energy buzzed through the air, capturing their audience, cocooning us in their music.

  Throughout their set, I barely looked at the other guys, all my attention was on Connor. On the way the muscles in his arms bunched as he hammered on the drums. The way his eyes scrunched closed as he threw his head back, almost like he was in pain or...well, you know.

  They played a long set, but to me it felt like it was over in a matter of minutes. I could have listened to them all night. As the final notes of their last song faded, I screamed and clapped along with everyone else.

  “Let’s party, motherfuckers!” Blake shouted down the mic, before dropping it back on top of the amp and swaggering into the center of a huddle of half-dressed girls.

  Hayley bounded over to Derren and launched herself into his arms as he pulled the guitar strap over his head and leant it against the amp, wrapping her legs around his waist and practically kissing his face off.

  Connor set his drumsticks on top of his snare drum and came over to me. He had sweat running down his face and his hair was damp from perspiration. A few days earlier, if you’d asked me if I would have got all hot and bothered over a guy that covered in sweat, my answer would have been a resounding NO. But that was before Connor.

  “We’re good, right?” he asked, still panting from exertion.

  “You’re a little better than ‘good’.”

  He stepped closer to me, curling his arm around my waist and pulling me close, stoking the fire of desire that had already pooled in my core from watching him play. His eyes caught mine and pulled me in to their green depths, immersing me in them. He seemed so happy, so complete, so perfect. And he was looking at me.

  That was it.

  That moment sealed my fate.

  18

  The party raged into the night. There was a sound system in the living room that was cranked to full volume, the kitchen counter was littered with every type of spirit I could imagine, and the bath was full to the brim with ice and beer bottles. There were drinking games, silly dance offs, more jamming on the equipment out back – Sons of Sinners partied like rock stars even if they hadn’t hit the big time yet.

  Together, they were like a tornado – and Hayley and I were swept along in their wake.

  But Blake and Connor?

  They were the eye of the storm.

  They were everywhere, involved in everything, instigating the crazy antics, dominating the drinking games and making up new rules as they went along. They were like a tag-team of trouble and fun and everyone wanted a piece of them.

  Hayley and I tried our best to keep up – I even managed to hold my own at Beer Pong for a while – but eventually we slipped away from the guys and went out on the back deck, perching side by side on a plastic sun lounger that had seen better days.

  “So am I an awesome friend for setting you and Connor up or what?” Hayley asked after a while.

  “You do realize he’s crazy, don’t you?” I hedged.

  She waved a hand dismissively. “They’re all crazy – now answer the question.”

  “Yes, you’re awesome,” I admitted.

  “And..?”

  “And?”

  “Give me details!”

  I laughed. “Such as?”

  “Oh, come on!” She threw her hands in the air in exasperation. “You’re as bad as he is! He wouldn’t tell me anything either.”

  “He wouldn’t?”

  “No. He just said you guys had ‘hung out
’, which I already knew. So, come on, I set you guys up, I deserve to know!” she whined. “Did he toast your pop tart?”

  “Oh my GOD! You get worse!” I cringed but couldn’t help laughing at her.

  Just then, Derren appeared out of the back door. “There you are!” He said, walking over and holding out his hands to Hayley. She complied and let him pull her up. He pulled her close and whispered in her ear.

  She giggled and nodded, but then glanced apologetically over her shoulder at me.

  “Go!” I said, waving them away. “Have fun.”

  “She will,” Derren promised, before he pulled her across the yard and through the back gate.

  When they’d gone, I went back inside the house. It was about four-thirty in the morning, and by that time pretty much everyone had left. Kane was talking to a couple of guys in the kitchen but when he saw me he came right over. “Hey, Amy. Connor was looking for you a minute ago.”

  I glanced around the room but the only other people in there were Blake and two girls, both of whom were wearing skirts so short that you could see what they had eaten for lunch. They were all lounging together on one of the couches – I felt a weird little jolt of something akin to revulsion at the sight of both girls running their hands all over him.

  Blake suddenly looked over and caught my eye. “Hey, Princess, want to join us? There’s room for a little one.”

  I gave him my sweetest smile but my words dripped venom. “Not even if you were the last asshole on the planet.”

  He just chuckled and turned back to his girls.

  I looked back at Kane, who was trying valiantly to keep a straight face. “Do you know where Connor went?” I asked.

  “Bathroom, I think – hey, you want another drink?”

  “No thanks, I’m pretty sure another drink would be the end of me.”

  “I can make you a coffee?”

  “Oh my God I think I love you.” I said on a sigh. Coffee was my greatest weakness, I was obsessed with the stuff. Hot, cold, frap, lat, you name it, I drank it. That sentence sounds a lot dirtier than I intended.