Page 4 of Wild Stars (Rock His World #2)

CHAPTER 4

Mateo

Get a hold of yourself.

I run my hand over my face as I try to regain my sense of self.

Because, for a brief moment—when Dare brattily tried to shove me against the doorframe—I nearly forgot who I was and where we were.

My vision went red at the bite of his defiance, making my damn heart stop, and my breath catch.

The desire to put this damn kid in fucking time out made my palms and my cock twitch.

And then he had the balls to get in my space?

Oh, hell fucking no.

If anything, Dare’s attitude should piss me off, and to be fair, it does.

But it also is so fucking tempting.

I bet he’d submit beautifully under my hand...

What the fuck? Where did that come from?

I shove off the wildly inappropriate thoughts.

Maybe I’m just out of it because I had a rough night.

After all, I was up on and off because I just couldn’t get comfortable.

And then Dare had to nearly knock me over and act like a shy, sweet little thing, pulling me in with big puppy dog eyes, only to lash out and bite me.

And the most annoying part of all of that is that I ate it up like fucking candy.

Yeah, clearly a lack of sleep is throwing me off my game.

I open the door to the studio, deciding to leave Dare Wylde and his Heart Killer buddies to their own devices and instead focus on the main goal; the damn show.

Hailee is perched on a chair in the corner, scrolling on her phone absentmindedly. She barely gives me a nod as I walk in.

“Come on, let’s get this shit going,” I bite.

Hailee rolls her eyes. “You’re in a mood today,” she replies.

“If it matters, I didn’t get a whole lot of sleep last night, and then I ran into that stupid kid...”

Hailee sets her phone down as she heads for her spot behind her keyboard. “What kid?”

I grab my guitar, slinging the strap over my shoulder. “Fucking Dare Wylde.”

Hailee raises an eyebrow. “Richie’s brother?”

It’s my turn to look at her with surprise. “Yeah, you know them?”

Something shifts in her eyes, but I don’t have a moment to grasp it as she tunes her keyboard.

“I mean, sort of. I’ve seen them at events and stuff, but I don’t, like, know them know them, ya know,” she says carefully.

“But from what I’ve seen... they both seem... nice. Fun. Not completely ruined by fame, yet.”

I strum the strings on my guitar, making sure to tune my instrument properly just as Helena Howler, our current manager, walks in.

Since Drew Axel of Axe 2 Grind is on a hiatus or whatever, and our regular manager, Bridget, is out on maternity leave, Howler offered to step in for the duration of the Pillars of Rock tour.

“They are children, Hailee. Stupid kids who don’t know what the fuck they are doing. They’re an accident waiting to happen.”

Hailee shakes her head. “Richie is twenty-six and Dare is twenty-three, so I’m pretty sure that makes them adults,” she defends, which only irritates my nerves more.

Why is she sticking up for them?

We’re supposed to be old and grumpy and judgey together!

“Twenties? That’s barely out of fucking high school, Hailee.”

“You know, I think living in the fucking mountains doing all that yoga rotted your brain,” she teases, tucking some dark curls behind her ear.

“It wasn’t yoga , it was tantra, ” I correct her.

“Whatever. Depriving yourself of happiness and pleasure is only going to make you fucking miserable, clearly. Maybe you could learn a thing or two from the kids ,” she nips, adding in a sarcastic, “Or perhaps you just need to get fucked.”

I make the final adjustment on my guitar as Helena calls over the loud speaker, cutting me off from spewing venom at my pain in the ass sister.

What is her problem today?

“All right, guys, show me what ya got,” Howler calls out, popping her bubblegum.

“With pleasure, Howler.” I strum the first few notes of Satellites .

Despite our room being mostly soundproof, I can still hear noise carrying from down the hall on the other side of us. Noise that sounds a lot like electric guitars and heavy drums.

“What the fuck is that?” I snap.

“What?” Hailee asks as Helena presses the button again.

“Don’t tell me you can’t hear that shit.” I huff as Helena narrows her gaze at me. I gesture to the door before I open it slightly.

“What are you talking about?” she asks.

“I can feel the fucking bass from down the hall.”

Hailee groans. “It’s probably just Heart Killer warming up. No big. The studio is bound to be packed today, since we’re all here rehearsing. Play your shit and drown it out.”

I shoot her a glare. If only it were that simple, but Hailee of all people knows I can’t play if I can’t concentrate. And I can’t concentrate with Heart Killer wailing down the hall like a bunch of dying cats.

I need order in my life; without it things are utter chaos. And I can’t handle chaos.

Attempting to heed her advice, I try to block out the faint sounds of Heart Killer down the hall, but just as I strum my guitar once more, I hear the clash of cymbals and a loud wail of guitar. Again.

I glare at Hailee, who throws her hands up in the air.

I slide my guitar off of myself as I head for the door.

“Mateo... come on...” my sister whines as Howler tries to call me back in, but I flip both of them off.

This is what I mean about stupid kids. They don’t have any respect for anyone but themselves, and even that is in poor amount.

I can handle Dare being a stupid ass at a party, but it’s another thing to come into my job and cause me chaos where I absolutely don’t fucking need it.

As I traverse down the hall, the music gets louder; wailing electric guitars and heavy drums are accompanied by Dare’s sultry voice.

It’s an odd combination of dark and operatic tinged with an almost eighties metal sound.

I have to admit, I’ve never heard anything like it. But I don’t have time to focus on the talents of Dare and his band.

I throw open the door to their room, to see Penny and Palo turn around in surprise.

Dare keeps playing and singing, his head bent over so his dark black hair falls in his face.

Combined with his thick, tattooed arms and his frayed jeans, he looks every bit like the grunge high school rock kid.

“Mateo, what—” Penny stammers as I brush past her to press the com button.

“Do you not know the definition of the word, soundproof, Dare?”

Dare curses as he looks up, stopping his playing while the rest of the band ceases as well.

On the other side of the studio room, I can see the back door is cracked open by a quarter.

“Excuse me?” he says, cocking his head to the side.

I press the button again. “I can hear your dying cat all the way down the fucking hall. Some of us are trying to work here.”

Hailee’s footsteps enter the room as Dare all but throws down his guitar, heading for the door that separates the engineering room from the studio.

His cheeks are pink and his dark eyes are full of fire, his jaw tense.

He runs a hand through his shiny, jet black hair as he comes up to my chest, staring up at me like I’m the school bully who has just taken his lunch money.

My entire body heats and the overwhelming desire to put him in his place is like a compulsion I don’t want to deny, but I know I have to.

“I have been rehearsing in this studio for over a week and no one has complained I’m too fucking loud.”

“Clearly Felix and Geo are deaf,” I bite.

Dare huffs, and the sight reminds me of an angry kitten.

It’s almost cute or endearing.

Almost.

“You have a lot of nerve coming into my studio and interrupting my rehearsal,” he argues.

Richie is beside him in a flash and I feel Hailee’s nails on my side, squeezing.

Telling me to back down.

Dare brushes his chest against me, challenging my gaze. We’re both nearly the same height, except for the fact I’ve got at least four inches on the man, which is saying something considering I’m six foot four, but despite his softer shape, he’s got a bit of force behind his build. Though I’d garner a wager that Dare doesn’t use his body—or treat it—the way he should.

Not like I would.

Where the fuck did that thought come from?

Angered by Dare’s distraction , I push back against his chest.

“Perhaps I shall whine and whimper at high pitched frequencies and then you will understand true interruption.”

Dare stares me down.

“Music too loud for you, old man?” he snickers. “Maybe you should find a drum circle instead and complain to them. Now, if you’re done, I have a show to rehearse for.”

My palm twitches and my fingers itch to wrap themselves around his throat.

How dare he!

I’m still under fucking forty for another month at least!

“Okay, come on, big guy...” Howler pulls me back, just as Richie attempts to grab Dare.

Dare shrugs him off, snapping away from me as he heads through the open door, slamming it.

The room is quiet, so quiet the only sound that can be heard is the steady breathing of Heart Killer ’s remaining members.

“Well, now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” I bark as I push away from Hailee and Howler, heading down the hall.

When I get to my studio, it’s quiet, and I can finally concentrate.

Hailee walks in, glaring at me. “You didn’t have to be such a tyrant,” she says calmly.

I sling my guitar over my shoulder. “If you’re nice, people walk all over you,” I reply, my voice even and cold. “If you want respect, you must demand it.” Anger is flooding me like a drug. It makes me want to fucking punch something.

I hate feeling out of control.

How is it that one dumb kid can make me feel so, so...

Powerless?

Hailee’s eyes glisten, and she purses her lips. “Right. Because earning it is so fucking last season, right?” she says, just as Helena pushes the button once more.

“Hailee... it’s not...”

“Whatever, Mateo. Forget about it, let’s just focus on the music, yeah?” She lets out a loud sigh, brushing some highlighted hair over her shoulder.

“Start with Satellites,” Howler orders, her voice unwavering. Pulling me back to the task at hand.

Hailee plays the opening notes and I sing.

“I’ve been all across the galaxy, searching for a sign…” My hands shake, and I feel like shit. But I don’t have time to think about Dare and his bratty attitude, or his solid weight against me.

Or Hailee’s words that cut to me the bone.

I don’t have time to think about the chaos. I need to be in control.

“Searching like a lost ship, searching for my satellite.”

Hailee’s soft vocals filter in over mine as she sings, “I need a satellite, to anchor me, call me home.”

I glance at her, and the softness in her expression makes me feel even worse.

I strum out the chords, losing myself in my lyrics once more.

“Can you hear me? I’m calling satellite, satellite. Bring me home.”