Read Online Dangerous Hearts: Rock Star Romance, 1 (Lyric & Wolf) by Mia McAdams - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Mia McAdams
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to roll off . I’m sure the boys would appreciate the lack of screaming in the middle of the night.”
Wolf nods, keeping his eyes on the
television.
“What are you watching?”
“ Boondock
Saints .Ever seen it?”
Shaking my head, I make another move to
stand. “No.”
“Stay , ”
Wolf says, surprising me . “It just started ; it’s actually a
crime to have never watched this movie, so I’d like to help you out. Since I
owe you for your song.”
For a second I consider his offer, but then I remember why I’m on this bus. “I have work to do, phone calls to make, showers to take.”
He looks at me like I’m lying. “There’s
nothing you’re doing that can’t wait two hours. Stay, Lyric.”
His eyes dig into mine , and I’m frozen. Since when did my brick walls
begin deteriorating for Wolf? We’ve known each other for what, two weeks? I’d
like to think of myself as one of those girls who learns from her mistakes. Wolf would absolutely be a repeat of something I do
not want to experience again.
My decision to stay or leave is taking
too long. All the while, I’m staring back at the guy who took my song and sang
it to a crowd of thousands after asking them to make it go viral. Which reminds me . . .
“Speaking of owing me. Have you checked
social media today?”
Wolf grins and tosses me his phone. “1.5
million hits on YouTube and counting. Looks like we’ll have to figure out a way
to break the news to the fans that we’ve found our writer but she wants to
remain anonymous.”
“Have you told anyone?”
“Not a soul.”
Relief gush es through me as I tap the home screen , find the
YouTube page open , and watch the video. All I
could see was red last night as the song played and my lyrics filled the
stadium. I’m still perplexed by how it all transpired, but even I have to admit
the song is good—what Wolf did with it, at least .
“What’s the deal , anyway? Why don’t you want any credit for the song?” His eyes are watching me.
I can feel them probing for a reaction. So I give him nothing. Instead, I toss his phone on the bed, walk to the door , and turn around to face him.
“Can you pause the movie? I’d really like
to shower and change before I crawl back into your crusty bed.”
His eyes crinkle when he laughs. “You’re
insulting me. I love it. After offering you millions and then rescuing you from
the couch and letting you drool in my bed. You’re still insulting me. That’s
fine, Lyric. At least you’re not screaming at me anymore.”
I smirk and turn toward the door. “Day’s
not over.”
The
moment the movie credits begin to roll , I turn
to Wolf, ready to unleash my fandemonium and tell him he was right. But that doesn’t
happen because he’s asleep in his chair, head leaned back against the wall,
mouth hanging open. I laugh and tiptoe over until I’m directly over his ear.
“Boo.”
His eyes fly open , and I gasp when he grips my waist.
“Shit,” he says when he realizes it’s me.
My stomach is heaving with laughter. “I’m sorry, you looked
uncomfortable. I’m going to get some work done now. You can have your bed
back.”
His hands are still on my waist and his
grip tightens as if he’s about to tell me something. “Okay,” he says instead , dropping his hands.
“Thanks for the movie.”
After grabbing my laptop, I pass the bunk
beds and land in the main living area of the bus. The guys take up most of the
couch spaces, their eyes all in different directions. Crawley is in the
kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee and spiking it with something from a metal flask. I chuckle and slip past him to set up my computer in the only available space
left.
I’m in the groove, plugging away on
emails, making phone calls to the venue to confirm load times , and ensuring shipments have arrived. Other than
the music, this is what I live for. Creative organization. Managing chaos. I
love every bit of it. I call the u nion teams
to
Wolf nods, keeping his eyes on the
television.
“What are you watching?”
“ Boondock
Saints .Ever seen it?”
Shaking my head, I make another move to
stand. “No.”
“Stay , ”
Wolf says, surprising me . “It just started ; it’s actually a
crime to have never watched this movie, so I’d like to help you out. Since I
owe you for your song.”
For a second I consider his offer, but then I remember why I’m on this bus. “I have work to do, phone calls to make, showers to take.”
He looks at me like I’m lying. “There’s
nothing you’re doing that can’t wait two hours. Stay, Lyric.”
His eyes dig into mine , and I’m frozen. Since when did my brick walls
begin deteriorating for Wolf? We’ve known each other for what, two weeks? I’d
like to think of myself as one of those girls who learns from her mistakes. Wolf would absolutely be a repeat of something I do
not want to experience again.
My decision to stay or leave is taking
too long. All the while, I’m staring back at the guy who took my song and sang
it to a crowd of thousands after asking them to make it go viral. Which reminds me . . .
“Speaking of owing me. Have you checked
social media today?”
Wolf grins and tosses me his phone. “1.5
million hits on YouTube and counting. Looks like we’ll have to figure out a way
to break the news to the fans that we’ve found our writer but she wants to
remain anonymous.”
“Have you told anyone?”
“Not a soul.”
Relief gush es through me as I tap the home screen , find the
YouTube page open , and watch the video. All I
could see was red last night as the song played and my lyrics filled the
stadium. I’m still perplexed by how it all transpired, but even I have to admit
the song is good—what Wolf did with it, at least .
“What’s the deal , anyway? Why don’t you want any credit for the song?” His eyes are watching me.
I can feel them probing for a reaction. So I give him nothing. Instead, I toss his phone on the bed, walk to the door , and turn around to face him.
“Can you pause the movie? I’d really like
to shower and change before I crawl back into your crusty bed.”
His eyes crinkle when he laughs. “You’re
insulting me. I love it. After offering you millions and then rescuing you from
the couch and letting you drool in my bed. You’re still insulting me. That’s
fine, Lyric. At least you’re not screaming at me anymore.”
I smirk and turn toward the door. “Day’s
not over.”
The
moment the movie credits begin to roll , I turn
to Wolf, ready to unleash my fandemonium and tell him he was right. But that doesn’t
happen because he’s asleep in his chair, head leaned back against the wall,
mouth hanging open. I laugh and tiptoe over until I’m directly over his ear.
“Boo.”
His eyes fly open , and I gasp when he grips my waist.
“Shit,” he says when he realizes it’s me.
My stomach is heaving with laughter. “I’m sorry, you looked
uncomfortable. I’m going to get some work done now. You can have your bed
back.”
His hands are still on my waist and his
grip tightens as if he’s about to tell me something. “Okay,” he says instead , dropping his hands.
“Thanks for the movie.”
After grabbing my laptop, I pass the bunk
beds and land in the main living area of the bus. The guys take up most of the
couch spaces, their eyes all in different directions. Crawley is in the
kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee and spiking it with something from a metal flask. I chuckle and slip past him to set up my computer in the only available space
left.
I’m in the groove, plugging away on
emails, making phone calls to the venue to confirm load times , and ensuring shipments have arrived. Other than
the music, this is what I live for. Creative organization. Managing chaos. I
love every bit of it. I call the u nion teams
to
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