The Rocker’s Muse Read Online Penelope Ward

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Billionaire, Contemporary, Erotic, Forbidden Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
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A server came by and set down a carafe of fresh coffee. By some miracle no one had come to bother Tristan for an autograph, but that was probably because he was wearing sunglasses.

You know the awkwardness between Tristan and Ethan had to be bad if I intentionally struck up a conversation with Nazarene. “So…how did you end up working for the band?” I asked.

“Well, I’d worked for them once before. And when Veronica left before the European tour, they called me back since I’m based in France and already had the experience.”

So this was Tristan’s second go-round with her…

“You live in France full time?” I asked.

“I divide my time between New York and Paris. But I will probably be moving out to L.A. when Tristan’s stay in Shady Hills is over.”

My stomach tightened. Of course. “I see.” I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked down at my menu. “We should pick what we want.”

Even as I pretended to focus on the menu, I snuck glances at Nazarene’s touchy-feely behavior with Tristan. She always had to be touching him, whether it was a hand on his knee or her head on his shoulder. It made me want to jump out of my skin.

Tristan cleared his throat and attempted to lighten the mood. “I’m thinking…literally anything but waffles with pickles and bacon.” He flashed me a hesitant smile.

I managed to smile back, but after we ordered, the awkward conversation continued.

“This town is so cute,” Nazarene said. “Anywhere in particular I should explore while I’m here?”

“What did you have in mind?” I asked.

“Is there a spa?”

“There is one. It’s called Dandelion. I know the owner. It’s more of a full-service salon, but it’s the closest thing we have.”

“Do they do Brazilian blowouts?”

I scrunched my nose. “What’s that?”

“It’s a keratin treatment to straighten hair. You’ve never heard of it?”

“No. I don’t really get my hair done. I don’t think I’ve cut it in three years.”

“No offense, but I was going to say...” She looked down to where my hair fell over my chest. “I can see your split ends. You could probably use a trim.”

Tristan’s brows furrowed as he flashed her a dirty look. He turned to me. “Don’t listen to her. Your hair is beautiful.”

The table went silent. I didn’t know how to respond to that. I doubted either of our significant others thought much of it, but it rendered me speechless.

Nazarene backtracked. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m sorry if it came out that way.” She switched gears. “What else is there to do here?”

“Not that much, aside from the few bars and restaurants we have,” Ethan answered.

“The beauty is in what you don’t do here,” Tristan countered. “It’s more of an escape than anything, if you ask me. That’s why I like it so much. It reminds me of the small town where I grew up in Iowa. You don’t need to go anywhere to enjoy it. That night we went to the karaoke bar, after we came home, I sat on the deck, listened to the trees, and gazed at the stars. Can’t remember the last time I did that.”

Nazarene looked confused. “I didn’t know you went outside that night. What time was that?”

“After you went to sleep, around two in the morning.”

I realized that was when he’d texted me. I had to stop myself from analyzing why he’d thought of me while gazing up at those stars.

After we ordered, the food came fairly quickly, and at least then we were able to bury our heads in our plates rather than continue the conversation.

That is, until Ethan let the cat out of the bag.

“What are you two doing the rest of the day?” Nazarene asked as she picked at the sunny-side-up eggs she’d barely touched.

“Well, I’m taking the birthday girl here shopping to pick out a present.”

Tristan’s eyes went wide. “Birthday girl?”

“Today is my birthday,” I admitted.

Nazarene’s mouth dropped open. “Oh wow! How old are you?”

“Twenty-three.”

“Aw…” She tilted her head. “So young.”

Not too young for your boyfriend. I shook that from my thoughts.

“How did I not know it was your birthday?” Tristan frowned.

“Well, I never told you.” I shrugged. “Now you know.”

Tristan said almost nothing the rest of the time at Sparky’s.

Before we parted ways, Nazarene planted a kiss on each of my cheeks, European-style. And Tristan left with a lingering scowl on his face.

***

Ethan took me to a fancy Italian restaurant in St. Louis that night. He did everything in his power to make me feel special, and I felt guilty, because I couldn’t stop thinking about Tristan. I felt so guilty, in fact, that I decided not to go home with Ethan, but have him drive me back to my mother’s house instead.

After I got home, about eleven thirty, Tristan texted.

Tristan: Are you alone or is he with you?


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