Read Dangerous Hearts: Rock Star Romance, 1 (Lyric & Wolf) for Free Online

if he’s
joking. He’s either got a great poker face or he 's in denial. “Wolf — is that really what people
call you?”
    “That’s my name.”
    “Okay , then , Wolf. Being a musician — writing, traveling — it’s
the loneliest job ever. It doesn’t matter that you’re surrounded by fifty
thousand people a day. Who knows you? Beyond the music. Who really gets you?
Who can you trust and talk to every day? Who spends their days giving back to
you what you give to the world? Besides all that, you’ve got to be in your head
most of the time and you miss out on everything else. Don’t tell me you’re not
lonely. Without someone to share your stories with, to bounce lyrics off, to go
sightseeing with you , to just get away for a
while.”
    “I remember asking a certain someone to
go sightseeing with me and she rejected me. If I really am lonely, it’s not my
fault.”
    I laugh, relieved the tone of the
conversation has lightened. “It’s my fault
you’re lonely?”
    “Well, yeah. I guess so.”
    “Huh. I see. Well, then , I’m sorry.”
    He’s smirking into his glass. He thinks
he’s won. And I’m finding myself relax ing around him a little more than I’m comfortable with, so maybe he has. Damn it.
    We order , and it’s quiet while we eat and watch the sports channel above the bar . Even through the silence, my thoughts are
loud and so is my pounding heart. Wolf is a charmer and he’s not even trying.
He’s just minding his own business while I’m a flurry over his presence. I took
this job to get away from trouble. Not to run into more of it. I swallow my
last bite and reach for my purse.
    “I should get to bed,” I say after
throwing cash on the bar.
    His eyes move to my half-empty plate and
then to me. He hands me back my money . “I got
this, Lyric. I love your name, by the way.”
    I refuse the money, and his eyes, with a
wave of my hand. “Keep it for the tip.”
    “Goodnight,
Lyric.”
    “Goodnight,
Wolf.”

Wolf

 
    After
dinner I take my drink to the pool and slip my bare feet into the water. Am I lonely? Lyric asked the question and
I keep coming up with excuses as to why I’m
not. I’m busy constantly. These past few weeks , I've had more downtime than I’ve had in years. Usually, not even a holiday passes
without some type of obligation. I’ve gotten good at going with the flow and
not asking for time off, because what would I do? Where would I go? I’m seeing
the world on tour. I have my fans. My bandmates. My crew. The latter two groups are more than employe es .
I consider them my best friends. Lyric’s assumption that I’m lonely is way off.
I just happen to love this life and take nothing for granted. Vacation isn’t
something I want or need.
    A whistle of wind blows through the air,
rustling something near me. I look to find a small piece of notebook paper fluttering,
wrapped around a nearby chair.
    The wind picks it up , and the loose paper is carried through the air
until it skips across the cold cement. Right toward me. M y first instinct is to reach for it.
And then the words on the page catch my eye. At a closer glance , I
realize that it’s a poem. Or maybe a song. I’m already rereading it at least a
dozen times, reconstructing the flow of the words in my mind.
    I look around to see if someone nearby
could have dropped it , but n o one but me is outside at this hour. Pulling my
feet from the water, I stand and walk to my
room, where I set the sheet of paper on my
dresser.
    After showering and climbing into bed, I
flip on the television, hoping to drown out the addictive words that I just
assume are lyrics at this point. I can hear the unwritten melody in my head. It’s
the same feeling I get when I’ve just written a great fucking hit. The problem is I didn’t write this. It’s not mine to
claim.
    Eventually, I throw the remote and walk
to my dresser. With a glare, I snatch the words up and sit back down.
    It’s not like I can actually do