RIPPED - The Price of Loyalty: Everhide Rockstar Romance Series Book 1 Read online

  About Tania Joyce

  Tania Joyce is an author of contemporary and new adult romance novels. Her stories thread romance, drama and passion into beautiful locations ranging from the dazzling lights and glitter of New York, to the rural countryside of the Hunter Valley.

  She’s widely traveled, has a diverse background in the corporate world and has a love for sparkles, shoes and shiraz.

  Tania draws on her real-life experiences and combines them with her very vivid imagination to form the foundation of her novels. She likes to write about strong-minded, career-oriented heroes and heroines that go through drama-filled hell, have steamy encounters and risk everything as they endeavor to find their happy-ever-after.

  Tania shuffles the hours in her day between part-time work, family life and writing. One day she hopes to find balance!

  Visit: www.taniajoyce.com

  RIPPED – The Price of Loyalty by Tania Joyce

  Published by Gatwick Enterprises 2018

  Brisbane, Australia.

  Copyright © Tania Joyce 2018

  All lyrics original works by Tania Joyce (with the exception of “Happy Birthday” (public domain))

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  All rights reserved. This publication (or any part of it) may not be reproduced or transmitted, copied, stored, distributed or otherwise made available by any person or entity (including Google, Amazon or similar organizations), in any form (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical) or by any means (photocopying, recording, scanning or otherwise) without prior written permission from the publisher.

  RIPPED – The Price of Loyalty

  Everhide Rockstar Romance – Book 1

  EPUB format: ISBN: 978-0-6482543-0-0

  Mobi format: ISBN: 978-0-6482543-1-7

  Paperback: ISBN: 978-0-6482543-2-4

  Cover design by DesignRans

  Edited by Lauren Clarke

  Tania Joyce: www.taniajoyce.com

  To report a typographical error, please visit http://taniajoyce.com/contact-form

  Visit www.taniajoyce.com to read more about all our books and to buy books online. You will also find features, author interviews and news of any author events.

  Keywords and subjects

  New adult romance, contemporary romance, workplace romance, rockstar romance, rock star romance, slow burn romance, friends to lovers romance, celebrity romance, music romance, on stage, music, lyrics, bands, life on the road, touring, life in the limelight

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  About Tania Joyce

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  EPILOGUE

  THANK YOU

  NEXT IN SERIES

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  RIPPED – The Price of Loyalty

  Everhide Rockstar Romance Series

  Book 1

  by

  Tania Joyce

  For the lovers of music.

  Chapter 1

  Gemma Lonsdale scrunched her eyes and curled deeper into the soft leather sofa, wishing it were her bed, not the backstage dressing room at Madison Square Garden. Her heartbeat set to staccato, right in the middle of one of her really good dreams. The type of dream that had her squeezing her thighs together, that left a pulse throbbing between her legs and a fire coursing through her veins. It was such a good dream, but oh so wrong in so many ways.

  These dreams must stop. This dream must be the last.

  The. Last. One.

  “Gem . . . Gemma . . . GEMMA. Time to wake up.” Hunter’s deep, husky voice swirled somewhere above her.

  No. No, no, no, no. Let me finish.

  With heat flushing her cheeks, Gemma tugged her hoodie around her chest and turned away from the voice dragging her out of sleep. After nine months of touring, all she longed for was ten minutes to catch a power nap or snatch a moment of privacy. But it rarely happened. Her life was not her own. Singing lead alongside Hunter Collins and Kyle McIntyre in their band Everhide, she’d learned the hard way that fame came with a huge cost.

  But why did it have to be Hunter to wake her? Anyone but him.

  Not when he was the one she’d been dreaming about.

  “Gem, you can sleep all day tomorrow.” Kyle’s voice, pitched with excitement, brought her crashing back to reality. “We’re running late for sound check. Let’s go.”

  “Come on. Move that ass.” Hunter slapped her on the thigh. Twice.

  “Ow.” She rolled onto her back, keeping her eyes closed. “I’m coming. Just give me a sec.”

  “Gemm-maaa.” Hunter teased. “You were moaning and muttering our names in your slee-eeep. Sounded hot. Want to tell us what you were dreaming about?”

  Gemma’s breath hitched, and her eyes shot open. Two pairs of eyes beamed down at her—Hunter’s azure and Kyle’s espresso. Both guys had smiles as wide as the Brooklyn Bridge. They exchanged a quick glance, then burst out laughing.

  Shit.

  “Did you have a wet dream, Gem? About us?” Hunter bobbed his head in a slow, rhythmic motion and gave her a you’ve-been-so-busted kind of grin.

  Heat rushed up Gemma’s neck. Knots clenched in her stomach.

  They’d heard.

  They’d seen.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  She sat up, tugging her bra back into place. Damn thing never stayed put. Not when she barely filled an A-cup. “You wish,” she snapped, unable to look either of them in the eye. “As if I’d ever have a dream, wet or otherwise, about you two idiots. That would be more like a nightmare.”

  But she was lying. To herself. To Kyle and Hunter. Her two best friends in the world.

  “Here. This will help you wake up, if nothing else.” Kyle handed her a takeaway coffee. “Latte, just the way you like it.”

  Gemma took a sip, savoring the dash of cinnamon topping. “Thanks.” But she was in more need of a bucket of ice thrown over her right now than a hot, delicious, belly-warming latte.

  “Do you need to go change your panties?” The glint in Hunter’s eyes sparkled.

  “What?” She threw him her most evil stare. “Don’t be ridiculous.” The guys could tease her all they wanted. She wouldn’t let them get to her. It was just another stupid dream.

  “I could help you if you want?” Hunter held out his hand, but she slapped it away.

  Kyle elbowed Hunter in the arm. “Okay, dude. Enough.”

  Shaking her head, she jumped to her feet. On her way past Hunter, she rammed her shoulder into his arm and stormed o
ut of the dressing room.

  Chin up, she strode along the concrete corridor and owned it like she was live on center stage. There was no way she’d let the guys know her whole body was on fire. Sipping on her latte, she attempted to wash away the images that flickered through her mind. But it was impossible. With each step, her heart thudded, causing the ache that resided there to flare. Each breath sent a shudder through her entire system.

  She had a problem.

  A huge problem.

  She’d tried to suppress it, hide it, deny it for months, but it grew stronger and stronger every day.

  She was, without a doubt, in love with Hunter.

  But he was a playboy. He’d never commit. She didn’t want to clock up another failed relationship to rival her mother’s long list.

  She straightened her shoulders and kept putting one foot in front of the other. She had one more show to get through, then she had two weeks’ vacation away from the guys. Surely, time apart would put an end to her wild dreams.

  The first dream she’d had about Hunter had been funny, the next few rattling, but after four months of them occurring every few days, enough was enough.

  There would be no more fantasies involving him. No more ogling. No more dreaming about his hot body, kisses, and oh, the sex. No more concocting what-if scenarios. Because music was all that mattered. With a new record to work on and a fully booked schedule, she wouldn’t gamble with the dynamic bond she shared with the guys. Their journey to fame had bound them together. She wasn’t going to fuck that up for anyone or anything. Not even her heart.

  She had to fix this.

  It was driving her crazy.

  Hiding her feelings for Hunter had become an exhausting obsession. She had to find a way to stamp them out. Because she remembered all too well what it was like to be hurt, betrayed, and let down. First, by her father, then her ex-boyfriend, and always, always, always, her mother.

  Gemma continued down The Garden’s corridor and out into the backstage area. The place was alive with crew getting ready for tonight’s show. Trusses and scaffolding towered overhead. Large video projection screens slid along metal tracks ready for testing during sound check. Electric bass and loud drum beats wafted down from the stage, their backup band probably pissed off with them for being late.

  Gemma cruised past the rack of electric guitars where Amie, their band manager, stood talking to a crew member. Amie threw Gemma an arctic glare and tapped an impatient finger against her watch. Gemma ignored her, jutted her chin in the air and walked over to the table where all the in-ear monitors lay next to the mics and transmitters. She pulled back her shoulders and sucked in a deep breath.

  This was Madison Square Garden. The last show of their third world tour was going to be huge. Yet another sell-out event.

  The adrenaline surged through her veins. The caffeine kicked in.

  She downed the last of her latte, placed the cup on the table and grabbed her in-ear monitors. Kyle and Hunter came up beside her, jostling with each other like teenage fans vying for front-row position at their concert.

  “You okay, Gem?” Kyle put his arm around her shoulders giving her a reassuring cuddle. He kissed the top of her head, then he reached for his transmitter and stuffed it into the back pocket of his jeans. “Just ignore Hunt. It’s nothing a good kick up the ass wouldn’t cure.”

  “Go on, Kyle. I dare you.” Hunter turned and wiggled his ass, but jumped out of the way before Kyle’s foot connected with him. He shook his shoulder-length hair back and hung his in-ears around his neck “Gem, you have to admit, it was funny that we caught you writhing around on the sofa. You let me know if I can make those fantasies of yours a reality.”

  Her breath hitched. Going by his reputation, he probably could fulfill every one of her fantasies, but it would be nothing more than sex. And she wanted something more meaningful.

  “You?” She thumped the back of her hand on his chest, ensuring her charade was in place. “No thanks. I’d sooner take care of myself.”

  Hunter stepped back, placed his hand over his heart and clutched at his shirt. “You hurt my feelings.”

  “Doubt it.” Gemma gave him a you’ve-got-no-hope-in-hell kind of smile. She was one of the only females to ever to say no to Hunter. And now it had become one of her biggest challenges . . . she had to keep saying no.

  Hunter bent down, meeting her face to face. Silver shards shimmered in his electric eyes. “Maybe you’ll get lucky at the after-party tonight.” His flirtatious wink and suggestive nudge sent color to her cheeks. If only he knew the effect he had on her. What had happened? For eight years, they’d been nothing more than friends, but now, at twenty-three years old, she felt like a high school sophomore with a rampant crush.

  Stupid heart. Stupid head.

  “Maybe.” She shrugged. But her plan was show, then bed . . . by herself.

  After gearing up, Kyle pushed Hunter toward the stage. “Hurry up. Let’s get sound check over and done with.”

  Gemma took off in front of them and bounded up the metal-grid stairs onto the stage. The Garden’s empty auditorium stretched out before her. The magnificent circular-paneled roof loomed overhead. In a few hours, this place would be filled with nineteen thousand screaming fans. Even after doing hundreds of live performances, Gemma’s belly still somersaulted before each show, especially here in their home city of New York.

  She waved to their band at the rear of the elaborate stage. Gone were the days where it was her on electric, Kyle on bass, Hunter on the keys, mucking around in the garage at Kyle’s parents’ house and playing small-time gigs in New Jersey. Now they were performers, singing to crowds of thousands at a time with a backup band rather than playing their own instruments. Winning a Discovered-On-YouTube contest five years ago and signing to SureHaven Records & Entertainment Group had changed their lives forever. And they never wanted to look back.

  “Finally,” Simon, their production manager, groaned. He walked toward her, Kyle and Hunter, flicking through pages on his clipboard, and met them in the middle of the stage. “Let’s get through this as quick as possible. Okay you three, into place.” Simon spoke with military command and cocked his finger like a pointed gun. “We need to re-block the lighting that failed during ‘Horizon’ last night. Can’t have Hunter singing in the dark, now can we?”

  “Hell no. Light me up.” Hunter glided over to his place on stage where he stood when they performed that song. He struck a fine “Staying Alive” pose with one finger pointed in the air, wriggled his hips, and held the mic up to his lips. “Hit me.”

  A beam of blue light shone down on him. At the control panel in the middle of the auditorium’s floor lighting technicians got to work repositioning and reprogramming the spotlights. Hunter danced around, relishing the attention. Even now, when it was just them and the crew, he shone. He was a born entertainer. The complete package with his baritone voice, seductive moves, and a massive dose of Harry Styles’ charisma.

  Gemma had never been affected by Hunter’s good looks and charm, or his flirtatious teasing and banter, until her dreams started. Then everything changed. Mesmerized by the lights shining on his dark hair, her body temperature rose watching him move. He wore his black designer jeans the right way—snug and firm on his hips, highlighting his perfect ass, not lose around his crotch like an advert for brand-name underwear or in desperate need for a belt. His gray cable-knit sweater hung loosely over his broad shoulders, making her wonder what it would be like to bury her face against the wool. Feel his toned arms around her. Listen to his heart beat in time with hers. Then, as if he sensed her watching him, he turned around and gave her one of his breathtaking smiles. She struggled to keep her knees from buckling.

  “Hey?” Kyle stepped in front of her. Flecks of amber flared in his dark eyes.

  Yep . . . Kyle was the reason nothing would ever happen with Hunter. Music was their life. Nothing else mattered. Nothing.

  Gemma stared down at her Old Skool Vans. It was
too difficult to look Kyle in the eyes. Because she was afraid—afraid he’d see the truth. See it written all over her face and know that Hunter was the one who had been in her dream. Not Kyle. She didn’t know why she’d been mumbling his name as well. Probably calling out to him for help, to give her a good shake and slap some sense back into her head, because she certainly needed it.

  “You in there, Gem?” Kyle waved his hand in front of her face.

  Looking up, she took a deep breath and let it out nice and slow. “I’m good. You ready?” Luckily, her voice didn’t falter, giving away the craziness swirling through her mind. “Let’s do this.”

  But Kyle didn’t budge. He just stood there, watching her.

  The way his gaze went through her sent a shudder down her spine. Clasping her hand tighter and tighter around the cool metal of her mic, her palms sweated.

  Shit. Could Kyle tell?

  “Come on you two. Move,” Simon hollered from the side of the stage.

  Saved by Simon, Gemma took her position between Kyle and Hunter. She clipped her mic in its stand and Simon cued the backup band. It was time to sing “Horizon,” her favorite song.

  Hunter sang. Slow. Deep. With all kinds of sexy.

  Don’t care if we fly,

  Don’t care if we run,

  Don’t care how we’re gonna get there,

  Just gonna follow the sun.

  Then Kyle’s voice, smooth and enchanting, channeled into her ear monitors.

  So, take my hand,

  We’ll soar above the clouds,

  Follow our dreams,

  Never gonna touch the ground.

  Gemma closed her eyes, licked her lips, stepped up to her mic, and sang.

  Yee-yeah-ya. Yee-yeah-ya, Yee-Yeah, Yeah.

  We’ll aim for the horizon,

  Don’t know when we’ll be home again,

  So baby, come on, come with me,