ALSO BY MICHELLE A. VALENTINE
The Black Falcon Series
Rock the Beginning
Rock the Heart
Rock the Band
Rock My Bed
Rock My World
Rock the Beat
Rock My Body
Hard Knocks Series
Phenomenal X
Coming Soon: Xavier Cold
The Collectors Series
Demon at My Door
Coming Soon: Demon in My Bed
A Sexy Manhattan Fairytale Series
Naughty King
Feisty Princess
Coming Soon: Dirty Royals
Wicked White Series
Wicked White
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Text copyright © 2015 Michelle A. Valentine
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Montlake Romance, Seattle
www.apub.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Montlake Romance are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781503949959
ISBN-10: 1503949958
Cover design by Letitia Hasser
To all of our service members and their families, thank you
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
THEN
LONDON
The energy on the field is electric. Everyone in the stadium is on their feet, cheering as loud as they can while they wait for their team to rush onto the dark-green grass. The love of baseball is one of the things that drew my boyfriend, Jared, and me together in the first place. I love the sport, and he always excelled at it. Playing college ball is a dream come true for him, and I couldn’t be more proud of him if I tried.
“Now introducing your Tennessee Volunteers. The junior pitcher, number twenty-three, Jared Kraft!” the announcer calls overhead, and the crowd immediately goes wild.
Jared runs out into the middle of the stadium in his orange-and-white uniform. Instantly my heart swells with pride for the man I love.
Sam nudges my shoulder with hers as she continues to shake her pom-poms in time with mine to match the beat of the music playing overhead. “Gah! London, do you hear this crowd? The way these people go nuts for him makes you think Jared’s already playing pro ball.”
I laugh as we watch all the action taking place on the field from our seats right behind the dugout. “That is the plan, you know. Jared may skip his senior year of college and go right into the draft. The coaches think he’ll be ready after this season.”
Sam’s green eyes widen. “Really? Aren’t you worried?”
“About what?” I ask as the rest of the players continue to run out from the tunnel leading from the locker room.
“The long-distance thing—doesn’t that scare you? Guys seem to lose their ever-lovin’ minds once big money starts rolling in. If you’re still here, London, you won’t be around to put the brakes on Jared or keep the gold diggers away from him.”
I shrug. Her words, no matter how true they may be in most cases, don’t worry me a bit. Jared and I are too strong to be broken apart over something so trivial as distance. “We’re a package deal. We’ve been attached at the hip since we were in middle school, so I don’t worry about that with us. Besides, wherever he goes, I’ll just transfer to a school in that city and finish up my degree.”
Sam’s face twists like she’s just sucked on a lemon. “You’ll give up everything—your entire life here, including your dad—just like that for him?”
I nod as my gaze shoots to the middle of the field, where I spot Jared standing proudly with his team, and I answer her question with ease. “Love requires sacrifice sometimes.”
She shakes her head, causing her blond ponytail to swish back and forth while she laughs. “Girl, you’ve got it bad. I hope that guy appreciates what he’s got with you. Not many girls would give up everything for a man.”
I sigh as my thoughts drift to just how much Jared means to me and what I would do in order to stay with him. He was there for me when my mom passed away when I was just a kid. Even at twelve years old, he knew just what to say in order to help my heart heal. I’ll always love him for that, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him. “They would if they experienced a love like the one I’ve got.”
Almost as if on cue, Jared looks in my direction and winks as he stands with his team. I smile because I know that I mean just as much to him as he does to me. Nothing will ever come between us.
Nothing.
NOW
JARED
My fingers fly over the frets as my other hand stays busy picking the strings to get the notes just right. The chords sound amazing, and I know once the label realizes how well I can shred, they’ll give me a chance to jump on the mic and lay down some vocals too. Our band’s manager knows how well I can sing.
“No. No. No. That’s not the way it’s written, JJ.” Ace’s voice cuts through my euphoric music high and grounds me instantly.
This douche is about to get on my last fucking nerve.
I take a deep breath and force myself to stay seated in this studio chair and not rage out like I want to. “What now? That’s exactly how it’s written, and I was playing the shit out of it too before you stopped me. Why don’t you head back into the booth and let the producer do his fucking job? If I wasn’t doing it to his liking, he would’ve spoken up. I don’t need your two cents on everything I do. I was hired because I’m damn good at what I do, so don’t treat me like a moron.”
The muscles in my back tense as I stare into Ace’s brown eyes. I have to force myself to hold back from telling him off like I want. Everyone treats this guy like he’s gold—like he’s some fucking golden child who can do no wrong—and it pisses me off. I’m just as good as him. I don’t see where he gets off with this attitude that he’s my boss. That motherfucker has another thing coming if he thinks for one damn minute that he’s better than me.
Ace’s nostrils flare and I can tell I’m getting to him.
Good.
I want the fucker to quit.
We’ve never hit it off. If it hadn’t been for the studio putting us in a band together under contract, there would be no way I would work with this guy. He’s a condescending asshole who thinks he’s so smart. I would quit myself, except the pay is exceptional and music is the one thing in my life that I’m still very passionate about. Music is the one thing I know I’m damn good at. Besides, I’m not really qualified to do much of anything else. These days it seems like you need a college degree to land a good job, and since I don’t have one of those, I’m smart enough to stay p
ut and put up with Ace’s bullshit. I mean, there’s always at least one person that you hate at any job, right?
Ace pinches the bridge of his nose and tips his head down, causing his long bronze hair to fall like a curtain around his face. It’s like he has to take a second to calm down before addressing me. We’ve known each other a little over two years, but in that time I’ve learned that, like me, Ace is a hothead, and the two of us together don’t mesh well.
When Ace’s gaze shifts back to me, he runs his hand over his face and smooths down his long beard. “Look, I know I can be a little overbearing when it comes to music, but I just want it to be perfect. I don’t mean to be a complete dick when I call things out like that. I just get so passionate that I can’t contain myself. I know you’re good. Anyone can see that, so I’ll try to back off a bit.”
I raise my eyebrows. While that’s not exactly an apology, it’s the closest thing I’ve ever gotten from him, and the last thing I ever expected.
Apologies aren’t easy. God, I know that more than anyone, because there are people in my life who deserve one from me who’ve never gotten it and probably never will. I mean, how can you possibly say sorry for ruining someone’s life?
My mind instantly drifts off to the last time I saw London and the things I said to her. So many times I’ve wanted to pick up the phone just to hear her voice and beg her to forgive me, but I know it’s too late now. Too much time has passed between us, and I’m sure she’s moved on by now. London is one piece of my past I have to continue locking away. It hurts me too much to think about her.
I clear my throat. “Whatever, man. I’ll play it again as long as you go back to the booth. I don’t want you in here breathing down my neck.”
Ace holds up his hands and nods. “Fair enough.”
Without any additional argument, he turns around and heads back into the sound booth. When I’m alone again in the room, the producer gives me the go sign to start from the top of the song. I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and allow my fingers to find the chords. This time I make it all the way through without one interruption, and I don’t mean to brag, but it was damn near perfect.
“That sounded great, JJ. You’re wrapped,” the producer says into my headphones and then gives me a thumbs-up when my eyes flick in his direction.
Instantly I pull the headphones off and toss them aside before I unplug my guitar and place it back inside the case. Just as I snap the last latch closed and stand, the door to the recording booth opens.
Jane Ann, the band’s tour manager, stands there in the doorway, wearing one of her signature all-red outfits that match her flaming hair perfectly. Her arms are folded tightly against her chest, and there’s a hideous scowl on her face, pointed in my direction.
Fuck. She’s pissed, and I can probably guess what this is all about.
My shoulders sag. Not this shit again. I’m so not in the mood. “What?”
She arches one of her perfectly plucked red eyebrows at me. “Don’t play dumb with me. I know you better than that, JJ. You are too smart to not know why I’m pissed right now.”
I roll my eyes as I push past her with my guitar case in hand. I’m not doing this in here with an audience on the other side of that glass—I’m sick of having this conversation, period.
Jane Ann doesn’t take the hint, because she’s hot on my heels as I make my way out of the studio and down the hallway. “JJ!”
The way she calls my stage name makes me cringe, and I wish that I could reply with a big “fuck off.” I hate that this woman has so much power over me—and the band, for that matter—but the reality of the situation is this woman is my boss.
“Why do you have to defend him, Jane Ann?” I call over my shoulder to her as I keep walking. “He’s not that fucking great.”
I finally come to the exit and spot the beat-up, blue F-250 pickup truck that’s belonged to me since college and keep trudging toward it.
Jane Ann doesn’t take the hint, though, because she remains right on my heels through the parking lot. The woman is relentless.
“Not that great? You are joking, right? Ace White is the entire reason Wicked White has had the level of success it’s achieved on the first record.” There’s a bit of a growl in her voice. I can tell that she doesn’t like that I’ve just insulted her so-called top musical find.
I release a sarcastic laugh. “That’s fucking rich. Have you forgotten that it takes all four of us to make this band happen? Without Tyler, Luke, and me, there would be no Wicked White. Ace is just the face you all chose to promote.”
I unlock the truck and jerk open the driver’s-side door. If I didn’t love my guitar, I’d be tempted to throw it inside versus sliding it gently behind the seat.
“We’re not on this again, are we?” The annoyance in her voice is unmistakable as she refers to the one thing she knows I deserve.
I spin around. “You’re damn straight we are. I don’t know why it’s so hard to give me the opportunity that you promised me when I signed my contract. It was supposed to be me singing on those tracks. I’m not just some guitarist—”
She narrows her eyes and cuts me off. “That’s exactly what you are. I found you playing in some dive with a band that was going nowhere. When I offered you a spot in the band that Mopar Records was building, you were eager to sign my deal because you knew you’d never get this far on your own.”
“I would’ve—”
A bitter laugh comes out of her mouth. “No. Don’t kid yourself, sweetie. Without me you’d still be in that bar band, living out of your truck. You should be thankful that I picked you and turned you into JJ White—Jared Kraft was going nowhere—but it seems to me that you’re ungrateful for the setup you’ve been given. I could fire you anytime I want and have you replaced the same day. Don’t forget that.”
I flinch like she’s just smacked me in the face. “You really think I’m that replaceable? I’d like to see you try to find someone else who would be willing to put up with your shit, and don’t even get me started on how big of a pain in the ass Ace is.”
Jane Ann points her finger at me. “Don’t push me, JJ.” She closes her index finger and thumb together, leaving less than a half inch of space between them. “I’m this close to canning your ass. If you weren’t so ridiculously good-looking, I already would have. You’re lucky the girls like you. This whole rebel-without-a-cause thing you’ve got going on is your saving grace because it works for your moody ass, but I swear that I’ll find another pretty face to replace you if you don’t find some common ground and quit fighting with Ace every chance you get. Get your shit together. I mean it. This is your last warning.”
I open my mouth to tell her to fuck off, but the expression on her face is daring me to, because she’s looking for a reason to get rid of me. We’ve never really seen eye to eye since she brought Ace on board. I never trusted her after that.
Most people would think I’m nuts for staying in a band I hate so much.
Truth is? I love music, and I’ll do anything to be able to keep it in my life. It’s the only thing I’ve got left.
NOW
LONDON
I sit on the funky floral-pattern chair in our bedroom and rub my fingers over the coarse material on the armrest to distract myself from the scene before me. It’s not one that I’m ready to deal with, but deep down I know it needs to happen.
Wes carefully folds the last few of his T-shirts and puts them in his suitcase. The sound of the zipper locking his stuff inside is so loud in the otherwise-silent room that it causes my breath to catch.
His brown eyes flick to mine, and it saddens me to know this is probably the last time I’ll be in a bedroom with my husband. He’s handsome, and he turns women’s heads everywhere we go with his toned body, sandy-blond hair, and deep, soulful brown eyes. On top of all that, he’s brilliant too—one of the brightest young engineers at his firm. He’s the complete package, but he’s not Jared—the one man that I can’t seem to get over
—and Wes knows it. It’s the reason we’ve struggled over the past three months of our short marriage. Wes is just too big of a reminder of what I’ve lost, and no matter how hard I try, I just can’t seem to get over the past and move forward.
I tried to break free of the memory of Jared the best way I knew how: by dating other men. It never worked. All I ended up doing was comparing every guy to Jared, including Wes.
Wes understood my heartbreak—he’d witnessed every facet of my relationship with Jared—and was patient with me, even willing to put up with my obsession with a man who no longer wanted me.
Wes has really been a good friend, and I love him for that, but unfortunately, that’s all I still see him as—a friend. He provided a distraction to the real issues I was struggling with—the grief and depression that accompany a broken heart.
The thought of smothering all the memories I have of Jared sounded amazing. I was so tired of hurting and longing for a relationship that I knew was well over that I allowed myself to get lost in Wes for a while. It’s clear that Wes loves me, and I really thought that eventually his love would make me forget my past and help me move on. But it didn’t work.
I’m so stupid to hang on to a memory of a man who is nothing more than a ghost to everyone who once knew him.
Wes shoves his hands deep in his pockets and his shoulders slump forward. “I think I’ve got all my personal stuff. If I’ve left anything else, just box it up for me, and I’ll pick it up at some point.”
I nod, fighting back the tears. “Okay.”
Wes bites his bottom lip as he walks around to sit on the end of the bed across from me. He reaches out and places his hand gently on my left knee. “It’s going to be okay, London. Things between us just didn’t work. We moved way too fast, and I’m willing to give you all the time you need to work through this—to see that you made the right choice by being with me—because I love you. I won’t lie and say that this doesn’t tear me up inside, but I understand why you couldn’t give me all your heart, because it still belongs to someone else. It sucks, but I’ll just have to get over it and hope that we can find a way to be together.”