Rockstars, Babies & Happily Ever Afters

  Rockstars, Babies & Happily Ever Afters

  Cari Quinn

  Taryn Elliott

  Contents

  Rockstars

  Jazz, Gray, and Nick: Threesome Jazz Version

  Deacon and Harper: Prepped

  Jazz and Gray: Ripped

  Nick and Lila: Rings and Things

  Nick and Lila: Fused Bonus Epilogue

  Malachi and Elle: First Rhythm

  Simon and Margo: Reconnected

  Nick and Lila: Craved

  Molly, Ethan, and Luc: Workout

  Callie and Owen: Bonus Epilogue

  Jazz and Gray: Retwisted

  One

  Two

  Three

  Seth and Ally: Trick or Treat

  Seth

  Ally

  Carly and Gio: Body Shot

  Carly

  Giovanni

  Carly

  Giovanni

  Rockstars

  Alternate Scenes & Bonus Content

  Jazz, Gray, and Nick: Threesome Jazz Version

  A Lost in Oblivion Extra

  This is an alternate scene from SEDUCED - the prequel to the Lost in Oblivion series. In the original book, this scene was in Nick’s point of view. This is how things went in Jazz’s point of view.

  Jazz stared at the closed door of the apartment Nick, Simon and Deacon shared. What was she doing here? She could’ve just called. Instead she’d asked to borrow Gray’s car since hers was on the fritz again and rather than driving to get a salad as she’d planned, she’d ended up at the Fluff ‘n Fold laundromat. Ended up at Nick’s, though she was pissed at him. At herself, for not having any self-control.

  For having too much.

  She had to be at the waffle house early tomorrow. Coming here wasn’t smart. If she turned around now, she could still get her salad and return Gray’s car. Maybe they’d be able to talk before he went to work—

  Yeah, right. Fat chance.

  She knocked and eased open the door, then peeked inside to see a bare-chested Nick sprawled on the couch. It was some chest, coiled with muscle and sprinkled with blond hair that led down to the colorful dragon tattoo that scrolled over his torso, but that wasn’t the only reason her heart sped up. The fading bruises on his body somehow matched the way he looked. He’d set his mouth in a hard line and his jaw clenched tight. Frustration poured off of him in waves.

  Over her? Over the band? Some from column A, some from column B?

  “Hey, you got any—” His features relaxed as soon as his golden brown eyes landed on hers. Drawing his legs up, he tapped the end cushion with his toes. “Oh, hi. Come in. I’ve been calling you all night.”

  “I know. I wasn’t ready to talk.” Jazz stepped inside Nick’s spartan living room and tried to keep her feet moving forward even when everything inside her said to turn and run. She edged around the coffee table and sat on the lumpy couch near Nick’s bare feet. Her gaze lingered there for a moment. A guy with bare feet always seemed more vulnerable to her. More exposed. He could have his pants off and it never hit her in quite the same way.

  Nick sipped some chunky blue stuff from a bottle with a masking tape label—protein boost. He seemed plenty energetic to her. Certain parts especially.

  She searched for something to say. Nothing came.

  He set the bottle aside and rubbed his palms on his pajama pants. They looked like they’d been run through the washer on high a few too many times. If they had any more holes, she’d get an eyeful of more than he intended. Or maybe not. Nick obviously had a lot more experience than she did and didn’t mind flashing it around.

  Then again, who didn’t have more experience? Nuns and elementary school kids, probably.

  “I’m sorry.” His cautious tone made her look at her hands. “I have no defense for what I did.”

  “Are you just messing around with me to get at Gray?” she asked, hating that she had to ask.

  Thinking that what she’d shared with Nick could just be part of some macho posturing thing made her back crawl. She wasn’t the kind of girl to just get naked with anyone, even if some people believed her clothes and her up-for-anything attitude said otherwise.

  “Are you?” he returned, not answering her question.

  Answering it unintentionally.

  She fought to keep her shoulders from coming up. How could he even think she’d use him? They were just getting to know each other in a very unique situation—bands were like marriages, without the vows—so maybe she needed to spell things out a little more. “No. I don’t have any reason to hurt him or make him jealous. It’s not about that with us. He just gets overprotective—”

  “Jazz.” He took her hand and she fought not to yank it back. Whenever people used that slow, careful tone with her, it knocked her right back to her years in foster care when she’d been talked down to so often she might as well have stayed on the pavement. “He told me it was more than that. At least from his side.”

  A breath exploded from her lips. Was it from fear? Relief? Excitement? God, all three probably. “What exactly did he say?”

  “You have to see how he looks at you,” Nick said, not answering her yet again. Making her think Gray hadn’t really said much of anything at all.

  Figured. Another dream crushed. She’d had so many damaged, it was amazing she ever got her hopes up about anything anymore.

  In spite of her reluctance to cling to him—to anyone—she wrapped her fingers more tightly around his, taking comfort from his strength. After so many years around Gray, she was pretty sure she could identify a guitarist’s fingers from feel alone. The callouses on their fingerpads, the flexibility of their joints. “What do you see?”

  “He wants you. He…he loves you. And not as a brother, not even in any of those places where brother and sister get way too close.”

  She laughed, leaning closer to him to see more of his smile. He always hid half of it, turning his face away so you never got the full power all at once. “I still think you’re reading more into it than is there. He’s had all these chances to tell me and he never has. He doesn’t say jack to me. He’s just possessive.”

  Nick grunted. “Possessive. Right. If I didn’t basically dislike him on principle for hijacking my band, I’d dislike him more for making me feel guilty over you,” he added, evidently unaware that she’d lost the thread of the conversation in her quest to put together both sides of his mouth. It was a little crooked. She liked that. Flaws were so much more fascinating than perfection.

  “I know, I know.” She sighed. “You want to fuck me. We colored in those pictures already.”

  “We haven’t colored in that picture. I’d remember, I’m pretty sure.” When she laughed again, he turned over her hand and traced a circle on the inside of her palm. His touch buzzed like an electric toothbrush, setting off tingles under her skin. “You grew up together. You and Gray.”

  Some families adopted stray dogs, Gray’s just preferred stray kids. They’d washed her up, brushed her hair, put her in pretty clothes. She still carried the grime deep down, where fancy soap and shampoo couldn’t reach. Wild hair dye and smoky makeup made her grin when she looked in the mirror, but they didn’t alter anything beneath the surface. She was still that clown pretending to be happy. Doing a damn good job of it too.

  “Since we were teenagers, yeah. His parents took in fosters, and I was one of them.”

  “So you guys got close?”

  “Yeah. Gray was different back then. Not the way he seems now. He used to crack jokes constantly. No one could make me laugh like he did.” She wrapped her free arm around the knee she pulled up to her c
hest. She couldn’t stay still. “We used to sit in the backyard and play together for hours.”

  “With or without clothes?” Nick’s teasing question barely reached her ears.

  Now that she’d summoned the past, the reality of Nick and his living room dissolved like smoke. The memory materialized in her mind, so vividly she could hear the birds chirping in the trees and the flutter of palm trees. Grass as soft as a baby’s blanket stretched out for miles under her bare legs, and she sat next to her beautiful best friend, the guy all the girls wanted to date. His long dark hair fell down his back, tangled in loose waves from the salty ocean water they’d swam in that afternoon. Eyes as gray as the fog in San Francisco she’d always wanted to see beamed into hers, filled with a happiness she’d only found in music.

  And him.

  “When are you going to take me to San Fran?” she asked suddenly, sliding her guitar between her knees so she could scoot closer to Gray. She laid her head on his bony shoulder, breathing in his cologne of teenage boy sweat and sunshine more greedily than the summer breeze. Oxygen didn’t make her giddy. He did.

  But that was her own little secret, one she wouldn’t even tell her diary. She’d found the closest thing to happiness she’d ever known with Gray’s family. No way would she mess it up because of the stupid, pointless thing she had for the guy who was kind enough to be nice to her. She was sure he wouldn’t appreciate his foster sister bothering him with a dumb crush.

  Gray was a year older than her, sixteen to her fifteen, and those three-hundred-sixty-five days could’ve been a lifetime. He drove around in his sexy convertible with his guitar in the back while she waited to borrow his mom’s sedan to take her oh-so-exciting learner’s permit out for a spin with Gray’s mom securely at her side. He also took out girls in that car and brought them home when his parents were away. Girls with long blonde hair that touched their perfect bubble butts and puffy lips that looked like they’d been pumped up with air. He brought them inside, laughing with them like he laughed with her.

  She didn’t do that with anyone else but him. Nothing was that funny, except when she was with Gray.

  Every Friday night, she took up her station in the hall closet, waiting for her chance to learn about a world far removed from hers of band practice and math homework. She pressed her ear to the door and listened as he made the pretty blonde girls moan, whispering things in their ears she so desperately wanted to hear.

  She’d bet he wasn’t kidding around about the Bourne movies like he’d done with her last night.

  “When do you want to go?” Gray asked, tickling her ear with his warm, sickly sweet breath. They’d shared a hot fudge sundae at the beach, then tossed around the Frisbee and chased Kizer, Gray’s golden retriever, until she’d felt sick from laughing and running and eating so much. Even hours later her stomach still wasn’t quite right.

  But that might’ve had something to do with the firm, rock-hard body she was leaning against. Did her best friend have to be that hot?

  “I don’t know. Next summer, maybe?” She remembered Gray would be getting ready for college then and shook her head. “Never mind. You’ll be too busy with Berkeley prep.”

  “What prep? I pack my bags and throw them in the car. It’s a couple hours away. No sweat.” He flicked her nose. “Let’s do it.”

  “Really?” She knew she squealed like a little kid but she couldn’t help it. “Oh my God, it’ll be so awesome. We’ll be like real adults, out on our own—” She broke off and sighed. Dumbass, shut up already. Please? “Of course, you already will be, since you’re going to college and everything. Getting into Berkeley’s as good as it gets. Living your dream, all day every day.”

  “My dream’s right here,” he said quietly, and she smiled as he nudged her guitar back into her hand. “Now stop fantasizing about traveling the world and try that chord again.”

  Blinking her way back into the present day physically hurt. What hurt more? Looking down at Nick’s hand cradling hers and wishing like hell it was someone else’s. That the boy she’d loved so much still existed.

  God, what kind of person was she?

  “Him on his guitar, me on mine,” she whispered, pushing the words out. Every moment she’d shared with Gray stayed in the vault of her mind, away from the reality that had destroyed them. “I played that and the keyboards before I moved on to the drums. His mom got me my Sonor. I couldn’t believe she’d bought me something so kickass.” She smiled. “He’s the one who encouraged me. I hated going to class, so he helped me study. When I didn’t have a date for the dances at our fancy prep school because everyone thought I was weird with my lime green Kool-Aid-dyed hair and my obsession with band, Gray took me. He was my best friend.” Hearing herself, she shook her head. “Is.”

  “What happened?” Nick asked gently as she clamped her hand around his. If she didn’t hold on tight, he would slip away too. “Why did he change?”

  “There were a couple reasons, I think. Maybe more than I know. It’s not like he’ll tell me.” Restlessly, she rubbed their joined hands over her thigh. “Things were different when we were in Montecito. I lasted at Gray’s place a couple of years, longer than I’d managed to anywhere else. I always was that kid with behavioral problems, you know?”

  “Yeah.”

  From the flatness of Nick’s tone, maybe he really did understand. “No one gave a shit about my past, how it had messed with my head. And Gray’s family seemed so great. They cared about me. Or at least that’s what I thought. They’re mondo rich and stable, but there were…other issues.”

  “Like what?”

  She pulled her leg underneath her and stared at some spot on the floor. “Gray’s older brother tried to rape me,” she said in a monotone, focusing on the spot. What was it? Alcohol? Food? Some gross bodily fluid?

  Knowing the boys of Oblivion, she’d go with the bodily fluid. Probably Simon’s. Gag.

  “Tried?” Nick’s voice never wavered. “He didn’t hurt you?”

  “No. Gray stopped him.” She bit her lip and scarcely felt the pain. “Both times.”

  “Jesus. And you wonder why the dude’s protective of you?”

  “No, I don’t. I’m protective of him too. I would kill anyone who hurt him or even tried to—” Shaking her head, she closed her eyes. “He’s not how he used to be. Everything changed when we left his parents’ place together. He stopped being the funny, happy guy I knew. The one I loved. He suddenly started trying to be my father. Always watching me to make sure I didn’t do anything too wild or crazy. Getting mad at the kinds of guys I wanted to date, saying they were all assholes who only wanted one thing.”

  “Well, hate to burst your Kool-Aid-colored bubble, sweetness, but they probably did.”

  “You think that’s all I’m good for?” The confirmation of what she’d suspected all along—that her main value was as a piece of fresh pussy, only good as long as she put out—made her want to spit. “A quick fuck?”

  “Never said anything about quick,” he mumbled, and she smiled because at least it was honest. Whatever Nick Crandall was, he told the truth.

  That attracted her as much as the simple fact that he didn’t know her past. To him, she was just Jazz the happy, vapid bunny who played her ass off and showed it in little skirts. That was what she wanted people to see.

  She’d never convince Gray she was that shallow. He’d had the key to the real her for almost a decade now. If she let him inside her any more, he’d gain access to everything. He would own her.

  She toyed with the hole on the knee of her jeans. Poking her finger through again and again. Making it bigger. “When I met you, I knew he’d hate it if I started anything with you. But you actually talk to me. You see who I am. Gray just wants to keep me in a box. Safe. Protected. As good as dead.” She sighed and gestured to her lap. “Why do you think I got that crazy piercing? It’s not like I let just anyone down there, and a complete stranger pierced me. But I wanted to rebel so fucking bad.”
/>
  She still was trying to rebel. Still trying to be a naughty girl who could blow Nick without compunction like she had last week, because hey, she didn’t have panties on and didn’t care what she did where. Reality was that she often shed her underwear after a show due to extreme heat exhaustion. If she could’ve gotten naked legally, she would have.

  And her amazing BJ talents? Honed on a banana in high school at lunch in the cafeteria to entertain her few friends and practiced on the few boyfriends she’d had since.

  Hell, even her piercing was a joke. When she thought about the day she’d gotten her VCH, she still blushed. She’d tried so hard to be brave and badass and instead she’d nearly sobbed the instant the needle had touched flesh. As soon as she’d returned home afterward, she’d researched infections and sat all night with a bag of ice cubes on her crotch. Real attractive.

  Gray was probably right to be so careful with her. He’d witnessed how well she took care of herself when she was out of his sight. But him wanting to shepherd her like a misguided lamb wasn’t the same as him seeing her as an equal. As the woman who’d loved him longest and best, more than anyone knew.

  “You’re the first real taste of freedom I’ve had. When it’s just you and me, I can breathe. I like you, Nick. This isn’t a game to me.” She clutched him tighter and cast her gaze at their joined hands. It was nice to have physical contact with someone again. She hadn’t touched Gray in forever. He’d grown so tense that she feared laying one finger on him would make him shatter. “I’m not using you, I swear.”