Read Hawk and Dove (Rock Star Romance Novel) for Free Online Page A

you’ve met me in the flesh?”
    She looks at me long and hard. “Maybe, if it develops into a
lasting impression, I’ll share it with you.”
    Mitch yells something from the car, and Ellie rolls her eyes
at me. I laugh as she stalks back toward the sedan to help her partner unpack.
I watch the sway of her hips, her easy gait, the way her short haircut bounces
behind her as she moves...
    I may not have ever heard her music, but I’m a fan already.
     

 
    Chapter Three

     
    I’m pulled up from a deep slumber by the oppressive, heavy
heat. I brush the sweaty hair away from my face and force my eyes open. The
walls of our little tent are glowing dimly.
    The first day of the festival has hardly begun, and already
it’s sweltering. I try to roll off my quickly-deflating air mattress, but
something is anchoring me. As I glance down, I see a thin but firm arm wrapped
protectively around my belly. I glance over my shoulder and stifle a sigh.
Mitch must have rolled over in the middle of the night and made me his little
spoon without me noticing.
    I let my eyes linger on Mitch’s sleeping face—he looks
downright cherubic. His signature scowl must be slumbering, too, since for once
it doesn’t seem to be occupying his features. Mitch has always been a handsome
guy, in the rakish, brooding way that some girls go nuts for. He’s had the
misunderstood musician thing down pat since before I met him. His parents
raised him rather...unconventionally.
    While the rest of us were watching cartoons and going to
soccer practice, Mitch was reading Shakespeare and eating baby bok choy. His
house didn’t get cable, and he had to beg his parents to install a computer
when he started high school—and even then, he could only use it for typing up
homework assignments.
    Mitch’s rebellious stage was rough. He was angry with his
parents for raising him the way they did. He felt like an outsider, and he
blamed them completely. When I met him, he was just reemerging from a good few
years of destructive behavior and deep depression. And the thing that finally
brought him back out into the world? Music, of course. Making music saved
Mitch’s life, he’ll tell you.
    My heart smarts as I feel his arms close tighter around me.
Mitch can be a royal pain in the ass sometimes, but I can never hold it against
him. Beneath his above-it-all exterior, there’s still a lonely little kid who
just wants to be noticed for a minute. He’d kill me for saying it, but he acts
a whole lot tougher than he really is. I want our time here at the festival to
be good, and amiable, and maybe a little bit fun. I can be patient with his
grumpiness; I’m used to it by now. Maybe he’ll even have a good time, if he can
stand to let himself.
    Delicately, I maneuver my way out from under Mitch’s arm. He
sleeps on, looking peaceful and serene. I wish the rest of the world could see
him the way I do. To most people, Mitch comes across as a temperamental artist.
But to me, Mitch is a wonderful friend. He’s helped me work through so much of
my own baggage, just by helping me express my angers and fears and joys through
music. Even though he can be a pain in the ass, he’s still a good guy at the
end of the day.
    As quietly as I can, I unzip the door of the tent. Cool air
rushes into the tiny, enclosed space, and I step eagerly out into the morning.
Though our makeshift dwelling is as hot as an oven, the air outside is clear
and delicious. I fill my lungs with the fresh coolness of it, savoring the smell
of the morning. All around us, giant tour busses and RVs stand silently—like
big metal cows sleeping for the night. I look out from atop our hill, down
across the sprawling festival below.
    Here and there, tiny patches of movement catch my eye. I
wonder if the people still wandering around the huge general campsite have even
gone to bed yet? I’m not used to the up-all-night, raging type of musical
atmosphere. Ellie & Mitch fans tend to be bookish, nerdy, and