With: Scarlett Cole
Can a love built on secrets survive?
Rugged, hot, and rock hard, Dred Zander is exactly the type of man that normally sends Pixie running. Not dreaming about running her hands down his washboard abs...and lower. The lead singer and guitarist for the band Preload embodies trouble behind his quick smile and guarded eyes, and Pixie left trouble behind her years ago along with the name Sarah Jane Travers and the pathetic trailer her mom called home. With her abusive past in her past, she has a new life, a new family at Second Circle, and a dream of opening her own business. She needs capital and time. What she doesn't need is a tempting long-haired rocker or the paparazzi that follow him around.
But Dred has other ideas. Pixie's sweet hazel eyes, purple hair and kaleidoscopic tattoo of exotic flowers that swirl up her arm haunt his dreams, and he knows she wants him too. He just has to convince her. But as a juicy exposé threatens to expose their pasts, and a blackmailer terrorizes their present, Pixie and Dred have to decide what really matters and fight like hell to keep it.
“I believe you. And if we’re apologizing, I think I owe you one.” It was only fair.
“Yeah? Why’s that gorgeous?” His tone was lighter. Brighter than the first half of their conversation.
“I’ve been avoiding you.” She winced at her own words.
“I know. You want to tell me why?”
Gah. No. She didn’t really. “You scare me a little,” she whispered. Pixie stood up and started to pace the sidewalk. Inside the studio, she could see Eric setting up his own station. Damn. That was her job. She heard Dred moving around on the other end of the line.
“Well, that certainly wasn’t the effect I was going for,” he said. “Want to tell me why?”
Cujo and Drea walked past her, Cujo’s arm slung lazily over Drea’s shoulder. Drea had reached up to grab his hand. They smiled as they went by. It made her heart sing to see the two of them together, and for a moment she allowed herself to pretend it was her and Dred.
She flashed five fingers at Cujo to let him know she’d be in soon. Cujo smiled before giving Drea a lingering kiss good-bye. Drea walked in the direction of José’s, the café she managed, and Cujo watched her go until she turned the corner.
They had such a passionate relationship. Mentos and coke was how Cujo once described it, but it was so much more than that. Was it wrong that in spite of everything that had happened to her, she wanted to experience a piece of that soul-consuming love for herself?
“Because I don’t know what you want from me.” It was the truth. And not knowing was driving her crazy. “I’m not good with relationships. Casual sex doesn’t really work for me.” “Disastrous” might be a better word.
Perhaps the fact he was so far away would give them a chance to get to know each other better at a much slower pace.
“You’re a snowflake,” said Dred.
Dred laughed a little. “A snowflake. I don’t know what you and I have, Pix. I can’t even figure it out myself, but as I sat down to call you, I watched these snowflakes come in through the window. And they were so white and so fucking pure, the idea of touching one of them and making it melt was perfect, and yet the idea of spoiling it forever was not.”
“I’m not sure I follow,” Pixie whispered.
“I want to make you melt for me so bad it hurts,” Dred said gruffly. “But I want to leave you as perfect as you are. I can’t help but think I’ll be bad for you, Pix.”
His words were heartfelt, and she knew it was up to her to decide to take the next step. “I pick melting,” she said quietly, even though the unspoken meaning scared her witless.