Read Online A Song for Lucy: A Rock Star BBW Romance Short by Clare Cole - Free Book Online

A SONG FOR LUCY
     
    I knew the second I heard him sing those lyrics I would fall in love with Danny Farris.
    Damn that sexy, slightly gravelly voice. Damn those sparkling blue eyes, glancing up at me as those words fell from his beautiful, full lips. Damn those muscular arms, strumming his guitar as he made me melt inside. Damn that beautiful bastard.
    And damn me, too. Hopeless when the time came, falling for him as easy as could be. I thought I was stronger than that. I thought I could resist. I thought wrong.
    I wasn't playing hard-to-get for the sake of it. Danny had been a prick to me growing up; he poked fun at my red hair and nerdy glasses. He was my brother's best friend so I'd had no choice but to tolerate him whenever he came to our house – which was a lot of the time, by the way. He told me girls like me never had a hope of getting a boyfriend. I'll never forget the time his words cut me to the bone.
    “Lucy, none of the boys like you! You'll never get a date with anyone...you're just not pretty enough!”
    Man, that hurt .
    My brother kicked his punk ass the next day after spending a whole night trying to stop me crying. He came to the house like a dog with his tail between his legs, head bowed and with a big pin k plaster on his knee where he'd been scuffling with my brother. He had a bunch of flowers he'd picked from some neighbor's garden in his hand.
    “I'm really sorry, Lucy,” he pouted. “I like you really.”
    I liked him too. But I was 10 and he was 12 back then. Way too old for me.
    Sixteen years on and we still shared that love-each-other-in-private, hate-each-other-in-public relationship. He was still like that kid sometimes, irresponsible and kind of cocky. But he had a reason these days. Danny Farris was, after all, one of the biggest rock stars on the planet.
    "Are you ever going to finish that damn song, Lucy?"
    Lucas, my brother, rooted around in the refrigerator as he spoke. I glanced over at him, irritated. He knew I'd been struggling for some time to put together anything approaching a workable and radio friendly new song. Almost by accident I'd managed to have a minor hit single and now my record company was wanting to speed up the release of my first album. There was just one problem – they needed something new, something catchy to really kickstart my career. Easier said than done.
    "It's getting there, Lucas," I replied, pretending to write lyrics on an empty page of my Moleskine notebook. "Don't pressure me, okay?"
    "Chill out, sis, I'm just trying to help. You need to strike while the iron is hot, you know?"
    It was okay for him. He was the lead guitarist of Hollywood in Peril and his songwriting process consisted of handing the tune over to Danny so he could pen the lyrics. "You're not a lyrics guy, Lucas," I sneered, attempted to defend my procrastination. "It's tougher than you think to write both, you know."
    "Well, go and ask Danny to give you a hand."
    My heart skipped a beat. "You kidding?" I snorted. "What would I want to write a song with him for?"
    "Because, in case you hadn't noticed, he's pre tty good at it. Don't Die Young is currently number one in 16 countries for a reason."
    "It's just a catchy tune, that's all…"
    "For God's sake, isn't there any pastrami in this fridge? I'm dying for a pastrami sub here!"
    "You ate it all," I replied, rolling my eyes. "You and your genius songwriter back there are eating and drinking us out of house and home."
    Lucas grabbed his jacket. "I'm heading to the store," he barked. "We're international rock stars for crying out loud! Can we not even get a pastrami sandwich when we need one?"
    "Wait!" I shouted, panicking. I ran to the front door to catch him before he left. "What about…what about Danny?"
    Lucas hopped on his motorbike and reversed back. "Well, now's your chance, sis. Go figure that song out once and for all."
    As his engine roared into the distance, I heard the gentle sound of strumming from the studio at the back of