But I didn’t want any of it.
The fame sucked, the money was a burden and I’d given away my only chance at ever having her—my best friend’s sister.
I wasn’t supposed to touch her. My best friend made me swear I wouldn’t. Then he was deployed, and he told me to look out for her. Except being around her while still keeping my distance was slowly killing me. Touring with the band should’ve been the perfect escape… Until I fucked up.
I fucked up so bad, she was half-conscious in my arms, fighting for her life.
* BENNETT is the fourth standalone book in the Uncompromising Series.
The Uncompromising Series:
TALON
NEIL
ANDRE
BENNETT
My heart jumped, my throat caught on a swallow and I stared at the most beautiful girl I’d ever laid eyes on. Not girl. Woman. The stunning brunette at the top of the stairs made me want to forget her brother’s threat, take the steps two at time, and pull her into my arms.
“Hey.” I couldn’t even tell her she looked incredible. Or that I’d missed the fuck out of her.
She held on to the railing at the top step, but she didn’t come down. “Hi, Ben.”
Fuck. Her voice was softer than the flutter of my drum brushes on my snare, and the way she said my name, it made every minute of the last year fall away.
It took me thirty seconds to remember to say something. “You okay?”
“She’s fucking fine,” Marcus growled.
I didn’t take my eyes of her, but she glanced at Marcus and an expression I knew too well clouded her pretty features. “I’m good,” she said quietly, the crease in her forehead one hundred percent concern.
I would’ve been happier to see her get pissed as hell at him for once, but she never did. It wasn’t in her nature. She was everything sweet in my life. And in Marcus’s too, I reminded myself.
“You going to class tomorrow?” She still studied karate, but now she also taught it.
She bit her lip and glanced at Marcus. “Probably.”
Marcus snorted.
She cleared her throat. “How’s the tour?”
“Good.” Sold-out shows, a grueling schedule and fucking groupies that made my skin crawl. I hadn’t touched a single one of them since Miami last year. Playing had become work, and I missed the fuck out of the girl who’d smiled at me since she was fifteen years old.
Elyssia nodded. “That’s good. I’m glad.” Looking uncomfortable as hell, she pointed to the bedroom. “Well, I’m going to….” She trailed off.
“Go.” I tipped my chin. “I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”
“The fuck you will,” Marcus warned.
“Hey.” I couldn’t even tell her she looked incredible. Or that I’d missed the fuck out of her.
She held on to the railing at the top step, but she didn’t come down. “Hi, Ben.”
Fuck. Her voice was softer than the flutter of my drum brushes on my snare, and the way she said my name, it made every minute of the last year fall away.
It took me thirty seconds to remember to say something. “You okay?”
“She’s fucking fine,” Marcus growled.
I didn’t take my eyes of her, but she glanced at Marcus and an expression I knew too well clouded her pretty features. “I’m good,” she said quietly, the crease in her forehead one hundred percent concern.
I would’ve been happier to see her get pissed as hell at him for once, but she never did. It wasn’t in her nature. She was everything sweet in my life. And in Marcus’s too, I reminded myself.
“You going to class tomorrow?” She still studied karate, but now she also taught it.
She bit her lip and glanced at Marcus. “Probably.”
Marcus snorted.
She cleared her throat. “How’s the tour?”
“Good.” Sold-out shows, a grueling schedule and fucking groupies that made my skin crawl. I hadn’t touched a single one of them since Miami last year. Playing had become work, and I missed the fuck out of the girl who’d smiled at me since she was fifteen years old.
Elyssia nodded. “That’s good. I’m glad.” Looking uncomfortable as hell, she pointed to the bedroom. “Well, I’m going to….” She trailed off.
“Go.” I tipped my chin. “I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”
“The fuck you will,” Marcus warned.
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Sybil now resides in Southern Florida and while she doesn’t get to read as much as she likes, she still buries her toes in the sand. If she isn’t writing or fighting to contain the banana plantation in her backyard, you can find her spending time with her handsomely tattooed husband, her brilliantly practical son and a mischievous miniature boxer…
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