Page 5 of Wild Stars (Rock His World #2)

CHAPTER 5

Dare

I power-walk down the hall, heading straight to the breakroom.

What is Matty’s problem anyway?

I’ve never had an issue rehearsing here, over the last year I’ve been here!

I make my way to the Keurig, fixing for another cup of caramel cappuccino to soothe my frayed nerves.

I don’t know what came over me, either. Normally, I’m not so easily pissed off, but something about Matty’s venomous tone and the way he got in my face... like, flipped a fucking switch or something.

I’m not an argumentative person in general. I avoid conflict at all costs, ninety-nine percent of the time.

So why did I feel like fighting with Mateo Starr was a good idea?

Why on God’s green earth did I think pushing his fucking buttons was a good idea?

Because watching the man’s pupils dilate like that makes me feel powerful.

God, am I really that fucked up?

I run my hand over my face as I try to dispel the memory of Matty and his pretty mouth, of the way he clenched his jaw when I got in his face.

Of the fucking hardness growing in my pants as I think about getting in his face.

I adjust my stupid cock with a grunt.

Yeah, that’s never going to happen even if the guy likes guys.

He doesn’t like you one fucking bit.

I’m not obtuse, I know Matty’s break up with Edward Haverish was highly publicized, and Eddy Spaghetti is on track to win a fucking Oscar, but that’s not my problem, and that’s no excuse to be a dick.

Someone should give that asshole a good spanking and set him right.

Immediately, the goblins that run my brain latch onto the idea of Mateo Starr, bare-assed with my fucking handprint glowing red on his cheeks, and my cock twitches.

Fucking ay! Now is not the time for dumb ass fantasies!

I twist the coffee carousel and pluck my K-cup from the line-up and pop it in the Keurig to try and get my mind—and my cock—back in order.

The machine whirrs as it heats up, and I brace my hands against the counter as I suck in a deep breath, letting it out slowly, if only to try and calm my frayed nerves.

I need to focus . I need to get this damn coffee–not coffee, and I need to get back to work.

Usually, I check the doors before we start jamming, but I have to admit, this morning I am just not myself. That’s fucking clear as a bell.

Richie knocks, even though the door is open, pulling my attention.

“Hey,” he says cautiously.

“Hey,” I reply as I grab a rice crispy treat from the basket while I wait for my coffee-not coffee.

“What was that about?” he asks as he slowly approaches me, sliding his hands in his pockets.

“Honestly... I don’t fucking know. I’m just a goddamn mess today, Rich.”

Richie leans against the counter next to me, chewing on his lip. “We all have bad days, Dare. That doesn’t make you an asshole,” he says calmly.

“No, but getting in Mateo Starr’s fucking face doesn’t make me any less of one,” I chirp as I tear into the crispy treat. The marshmallowy goodness makes me feel better even if it’s short-lived.

Richie smirks. “I’m pretty sure he can handle it. You’re probably not the first person to tell him off. Dude is a fucking icebox.”

I sigh as I swallow another bite of my emotional support treat. “I should have checked the room better. I should have?—”

“Shit happens. Don’t sweat it. We’re all under pressure for this tour, you know. Not just you.”

I look at him from under my lashes, noting his demeanor and body language are unusual, even for him.

My brother is one of the most confident individuals I know, so to see him melancholy makes me do a double take.

“Something bothering you ?” I grab another crispy treat, offering it to him. “Need to eat your feelings too?”

He pushes it away. “You know that shit is full of sugar and is terrible for you, right?” He flashes me with a half smile.

“I ain’t never seen anyone frown while eating a rice crispy treat,” I reply, grinning like an idiot just to make a point.

“Darren....” He shakes his head, but I don’t miss the way the corners of his mouth perk up.

“Just saying. One rice crispy treat won’t erase your abs overnight.”

Richie purses his lips as he grabs the wrapped treat from me and I smile victoriously.

“I’ll make a deal with you,” Richie offers as he tears open the package.

“What’s that?”

“We go back into that studio, we play our fucking asses off, and after? We go out to Fuku for some sushi and drinks with the guys. Kick back, relax a little. Maybe we can get some press out of it,” he says with a half-smile.

I chew the last bit of my rice crispy treat, leaving no crumbs.

“Deal.” I grab my drink as the machine shuts off, casting my brother a genuine smile. “Thanks, man,” I say.

“For what?” Richie asks.

“For always having my back and making me feel like less of an asshole.”

Richie’s gaze softens. “You’re not an asshole, Dare. You’re just a fucking brat,” he teases as he finishes his treat.

I sip my coffee-not-coffee as he comes up behind me, and we exit the breakroom, heading back to the studio where Ines and Spike look bored as hell as Penny elaborates about something with her hands up in the air.

“You guys ready to get this show on the road?” I ask, pulling their attention.

“Fuck yes,” Spike says as he all but jumps out of his seat and heads for his instrument.

Richie takes his place and grabs his bass.

“Take it from the top with On The Edge .” Penny says authoritatively.

I strum out the first few chords of the song, channeling my best impression of a rockstar, and focus on the music.

And for the moment, that’s enough.