The Rockstar I’ve Loved for So Long (2 page)

“You are,” he countered calmly, “And I can tell you why.”

“Why?”

“Because if you found his voice beautiful then…”

Her eyes widened.

“You would have known that the guy on stage and me are the same person.”

And for the third time in less than ten minutes, Bree let out one of what would later be known as her infamous squeaks of embarrassment.

Chapter One

Four Years Later

“You didn’t answer your phone, babe,” were the first words she heard when Bree finally managed to extract her phone from her gym bag and answer the call. The ringtone, assigned only to a single name in her contact list, said it all. She was so going to kick herself if she didn’t answer in time.

The words sounded more cool than accusatory, but since this was Dylan Charbonneau they were talking about, Bree knew it was secretly more of the latter.

“Sorry,” she apologized sincerely, a little out of breath as she collapsed on the bench, thoroughly winded after her hour-long run on the treadmill. “I left it in my locker with the rest of my stuff while I was working out.”

Bree’s words over the phone made Dylan want to groan. It called to mind all sorts of erotic images, of the now fabulously shapely Bree in a sports bra and tiny gym shorts, her skin sleek with sweat as he took her from behind.

Somehow, ever since Bree turned eighteen late last year, his desire for her knew no bounds. Dylan dreamt of taking her virginity and fucking her hard almost every night these days, forcing him to take a cold shower way too often for his liking.

It was hell, but he knew a far worse fate awaited him if he tried to act on his needs.

Bree was special. Bree was untouchable. Bree would and should…never be his.

“Be careful that you don’t work out too much,” he cautioned lightly. “I don’t want you turning yourself into a toothpick—”

“Like the supermodels you date?” she asked with acerbic sweetness.

Dylan chuckled, the sound intimate enough to make her shiver. “Don’t be a bitch, babe. You know they’re like that for work.”

“Ha!”

“Besides, I don’t give a damn if that’s what they want. It’s
you
I care about.”

He said the words so easily
, Bree thought grumpily. Why couldn’t she do the same? Why couldn’t she just tell Dylan she loved him? They both knew he was – had always been – aware of her feelings for him anyway.

“Hmph.”

Dylan only chuckled again. “I miss you, you know.”

“Then come visit me so you won’t miss me any longer,” she said, doing her best to sound gruff. Just because the whole world knew she was head over heels in love with him didn’t mean she had to wear her heart on her sleeve all the time.

“If only I could,” he said, meaning it. He wanted so badly to fly to Florida and just be with her, but that would be suicidal. One look at a grown-up Sabrina Wyle and Dylan knew he would be on her and
inside
her, and to hell with the consequences.

“Why couldn’t you?” Bree winced at how whiny she sounded.

“Work,” Dylan said evasively, hating the fact that he was now forced to lie to her.

“Oh.”

And that sound of disappointment in Bree’s suddenly quiet voice? He hated that even more, but nothing was worse than knowing he was the reason for it.

Bree’s phone beeped. It was Saffi, reminding her by text message about having dinner in her brother Steel March’s fortress. Since the place was all corners and various shades of black, it couldn’t even pass as a mansion.

“Who is it?” Dylan tried not to sound bothered as he asked the question. His greatest fear was that some guy smarter – nicer – than him would realize what a treasure Bree was, sweep her off her feet, and take her away from him forever.

“It’s just Saffi. I’m having dinner with her and the whole March clan in Steel’s place.”

“I see.” He managed not to let his dislike creep into his voice. Steel March was the kind of guy Bree deserved – someone who had the right family, who didn’t have serious issues like he did – and for that, Dylan knew he would always hate the other man.

When he didn’t say anything else, she asked finally, “Are you just going to stay home tonight?”

“No.”

God, he could be so moody sometimes –
the classic rock star syndrome
, Bree thought ruefully. Her gaze went back to Saffi’s message. She wished she could be more like Saffi, with the way the older girl had gone after her guy without any hesitations.

Bree’s silence from the other line got to him. “
Bree
?” He hated it whenever Bree wasn’t chatting to him like a magpie, like she usually did.

She blurted out, “Have you changed your mind about coming to my graduation this weekend?”

Dylan swore silently at the way Bree’s voice quivered even though he could tell she was doing her very best to sound light-hearted.

“I told you, remember?” he said very gently, not wanting to hurt her even more. “I have work.”

She tried not to feel hurt at his extremely lame excuse. He was Dylan freaking Charbonneau, the world’s sexiest rock star – in her opinion, not Saffi’s – and front man of the most popular lyrical rock band. 

If he wanted to attend her graduation, he could.

She was normally not the type that did emotional blackmail, but this time…she was going to make an exception.

“If you’re not coming, I’m not ever going to talk to you again,” she told him in a rush…and then ended the call right after.

Oh. My. God. Bree breathed hard. Had she really done something that childish…and risky?

****

“I told you. This is a classic case of the apple not falling far from the tree.” The dark-haired man who spoke from the head of the table was exquisitely dressed in a handmade suit. He had the looks of a GQ model, but more often than not he appeared between the pages of the Wall Street Journal.

Bree tried not to wince at Steel March’s assessment, seeing as he was the head of the billion-dollar Beaufort-March business empire. If it had been Silver saying the words, she would have rolled her eyes. But this was
Steel
and, well, he was always right.

Seated across Bree, Staffan Aehrenthal gave his brother-in-law a droll look. “This is going to be a dig about me again, isn’t it?” he asked his wife. Tall, impossibly good-looking a
nd once a notorious man-whore, Staffan was used to the occasional insults that came his way from Saffi’s overprotective brothers.

“I’m sure it’s…not?” Saffi was clearly playing it safe.

“Sapphire has bad taste in men and because you’ve spent so much time in her company, you’ve developed the same bad taste in men, too. You have Dylan Charbonneau, who is a rock star like Staffan. It’s hardcoded in their systems to break girls’ hearts.” Steel aimed this in Bree’s direction.

Staffan covered his son’s eyes just to mouth
‘fuck you’
at Steel.

“Papa,” Little Aleksis protested. Like his father, he was dressed spectacularly for a simple sit-down dinner.

Bree exchanged an amused look with Silver as they watched Staffan, normally known to be volatile, instantly transform himself into an indulgent parent as he murmured something to his son in Swedish.

Minus the patriarch and matriarch of the clan, with Pearl and Samuel currently enjoying a cruise to celebrate their thirtieth anniversary, the March family was in full force, and all of them had come back to their hometown to attend Bree’s graduation.

Seeing the worry that the younger girl was trying to hide, Saffi said staunchly, “Don’t listen to Steel, Bree. He’s always pessimistic like that. And besides, if Dylan’s going to follow in Staffan’s footsteps, then that’s good! He’ll be
the
best husband you can ever ask for!”

The undying adoration in Saffi’s voice made both March brothers groan simultaneously.

Staffan covered his son’s eyes again, this time to give Saffi a hot open-mouthed kiss. The March brothers groaned louder but Staffan ignored it, his entire attention focused on the lovely taste of his wife’s mouth.

“PAPA,” Aleksis bellowed.

With a sigh, Staffan reluctantly lifted his head and removed his hand from Aleksis’ eyes. 

Watching the married couple exchange a sweet sexy look between them, Bree did her best not to sigh. She had known Dylan for about the same length of time as Staffan and Saffi knew each other and yet the current state of their relationships couldn’t be any more different.

Saffi loved Staffan, and he loved her back.

Bree loved Dylan, and he…cared for her.

The thought was depressing and she comforted herself with another forkful of her roasted sesame salad, the only thing she had been eating these past two months just to fit into her super-sexy prom dress.

It had been an impulse buy of sorts, but it had also been meant to challenge herself into losing weight. Bree knew she would always be curvy, but if that was so, then she wanted to be the
right
kind of curvy without any of the extra padding.

“What are you worried about, really?” Silver asked in a low tone as the other three got into a good-natured argument about Aleksis’ having the makings of a hardcore rock star with his impressive vocal chords.

Bree shrugged.

“You know, I’m not a big fan of rock stars either, but even I’ve noticed that Dylan dates you more often than anyone else.”

She groaned. “That’s supposed to be comforting? Yes, we date but we don’t date
exclusively.
” And that, she thought grumpily, was what kept her up most nights.

Silver still hadn’t answered.

Bree looked at him.

“Whoa, I’m not the bad guy here,” Silver said, throwing his hands up in an ‘I’m-not-guilty’ fashion. “I understand where you’re coming from, but…” He shrugged. “I’m a guy. In my book, if you’re not my girlfriend, you can’t expect exclusivity from me.”

“Spoken just like a playboy,” she grumbled.

“Did he make any promises?”

She gave him a stoic look.

“So he didn’t,” Silver translated.

“Why can’t he give us a chance?” It was the question that bugged her the most. All these years, Dylan had made her feel special – and sometimes, when he thought she wasn’t looking, he made her feel more than that. He made her feel like he wanted her to be his.

So why wasn’t he doing anything about it?

“Bree…”

Silver’s serious tone made her look at him.

“I don’t know him too well, but I’ve seen you guys together. I’m a hundred percent sure he would never want to hurt you.”

The words gave her hope, and when they moved to the living room to watch TV, the words were the only ones she could cling to when they saw Dylan on E! with a girl seated next to him inside his car.

Chapter Two

“Ready for your big day?” Saffi asked with a beam as Bree jumped inside the backseat of the Aehrenthals’ Porsche SUV.

Bree bent down to kiss the sleeping Aleksis on the cheek before answering. “I’m having trouble breathing,” she admitted, smiling ruefully.

“Because of having to make a speech as one of the Top 10 students in your class or because of
someone
coming to your graduation?”

Done loading Bree’s stuff in the back, Staffan caught his wife’s last words and kept his face impassive as he got into the driver’s seat. He would rather Saffi not say anything about Charbonneau but then he knew what a hopeless romantic she was. It would be like forcing the sun not to shine if he told her she ought to be careful about raising the younger girl’s hopes.

The fact of the matter was, Staffan was a man in love. He knew what a man in love looked like. Dylan looked
like
he was that, but right now…he wasn’t.

****

“…and now, a speech from one of our Top 10 students, who recently received a scholarship from the Christopoulos University. Ladies and gentlemen, Ms. Sabrina Wyle.”

She ascended the stage with a wildly beating heart. She had a feeling she would see him hidden somewhere in the crowd. Dylan had a flair for drama most times – again, the
classic rock star syndrome
that she and Saffi loved to talk about.

Clearing her throat as she stepped up to the podium, Bree started her speech.

Ten minutes came and went.

And yet, there was still no sign of Dylan.

****

The silence was strained inside the SUV. Even Aleksis, normally as charmingly entertaining as his mother, was quiet, as if he, too, was sensitive to the tension in the air.

Finally, she said, “He never said he’d come.”

The couple seated in front of her didn’t speak. 

Bree stared resolutely out of the window, keeping her eyes wide open. One tiny blink and the tears would trail down her face, ruin her mascara, and break down her every defense.

“But the other night, I sort of blackmailed him into coming. I told him I wouldn’t speak to him again if he didn’t.” She exhaled deeply, her fingers curling around the door handle. “Do you think he was making a stand of sorts, like he was telling me I can’t force him into making a decision?”

If he was
, Staffan thought,
then Charbonneau was an asshole
.

He waited for Saffi to speak, to say something eternally optimistic, but when he took a look at his wife, he was stunned to find that she too was close to crying.

Sensing Staffan’s gaze on her, Saffi forced herself to smile, not wanting him to worry about her. Her heart ached for Bree, more so than Staffan would ever understand. 

She saw her younger self in Bree. When a girl loved a rock star for so long, not caring what the others thought of it, only to find out sooner or later that he wasn’t perfect – it didn’t just hurt
.
It would break her heart, like Bree’s heart was broken now.

Bree’s phone buzzed. Looking down, she realized it was the Google alert she had subscribed to for the latest news about Dylan. Call her paranoid or a stalker, but she was masochistic enough to want to know who Dylan was dating, no – sleeping with – at the moment.