Roadie (Rock-Hard Beautiful, #2)

by C.M. Stunich

“Now that Lilith's here …” he starts, taking a deep breath, pushing his hood off his dark brown hair. It's a trust move, when he does that, bares his face. Ransom looks over at me, that jagged length of scar marring what was once a picture-perfect expression. “I was hoping we could figure out some way to be friends again.” “And why would Miss Lily change anything between us?” I ask. Of course, that's bullshit. Lilith is changing everything between us. Just like her name implies, she's a tempest tearing into our bullshit and our hurt, cutting it up into smaller, more manageable pieces. “We're in this together, Paxton,” he says, still looking at me, sharing one of the longest looks we've had since that awful fucking night. There've been times over the years where I've wanted to give up my vendetta, tell him that I'm sorry, try to get back what we had before. Ransom's the reason I'm a musician in the first place. I mean, my parents raised me to sing, to play piano, cello, violin … but it was Ransom Riggs that taught me the ugly beauty of rock, the aching agony of a metal riff. He encouraged me to explore my feelings in song, to write my own music, to start my own band. “If we both want to be with Lilith, we'll have to find some way to get along.” “And how's that? I just forgive you for murdering my sister and my old girlfriend so we can share a new one?”