Definite Read online

  Copyright © 2018 Kaylee Ryan

  All Rights Reserved.

  This book may not be reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the written permission of Kaylee Ryan, except for the use of brief quotations in articles and or reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events, locations, businesses and plot are products of the author’s imagination and meant to be used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events throughout the story are purely coincidental. The author acknowledges trademark owners and trademarked status of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication and use of these trademarks is not authorized, sponsored or associated by or with the trademark owners.

  The following story contains sexual situations and strong language. It is intended for adult readers.

  Cover Design: Sommer Stein, Perfect Pear Creative Covers

  Cover Photography: Dave Blake

  Editing: Hot Tree Editing

  Formatting: Integrity Formatting

  Model: Mitch Mckersie

  The First Time We Met

  Logan & Kacen's Wedding

  Three Months Ago

  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

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Epilogue

  Contact Kaylee Ryan

  Also by Kaylee Ryan

  Acknowledgements

  Standing in the corner of the room, I watch my family mill around, accepting condolences from friends and acquaintances. I know it’s rude to be hiding over here, but I just needed a minute. Gramps was such a huge part of my life growing up. I know it’s the circle of life and all that, but I can’t believe he’s gone.

  “You’re Logan’s cousin, right?” a deep masculine voice says from beside me.

  Turning, I see a member of the band my cousin Logan has been working for. I found out yesterday that she’s dating the lead singer. This guy, he’s absolutely gorgeous with those light blue eyes, five o’clock shadow and his arms, they’re defined, corded with muscles and ink. Makes you wonder how often he works out? When I googled the band, my search informed me he’s the drummer. Surely that definition is not just from slinging drum sticks all the time.

  “Y-yeah.” I quickly wipe away a stray tear. Figures the hottest guy here, who also happens to be a damn rock star, would choose now when I have a blotchy face and bloodshot eyes to talk to me. That’s about my luck.

  He holds out his hand. “Tristan Lewis. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  Not wanting to be rude, I place my hand in his, and he squeezes it gently. His are calloused to my soft, such a contrast. When he releases me, my hand feels cold instantly. “Lauren Andrews,” I introduce myself, finally remembering my manners.

  “This is a lot to take in, huh?” He motions to the packed house before us.

  “Yeah, I just needed a minute.” Time to grieve on my own.

  “So, Lauren, what is it you do?” he asks.

  I chuckle. “Are you seriously hitting on me at a funeral?” I guess that’s how things work in his world.

  “Not at all. I’m simply making polite conversation with a beautiful woman who looks like she could use someone who’s not them”—he points around the room—“to talk to. But now I’ll leave you be. It was nice to meet you, Lauren,” he says, and turns to walk away.

  “Wait!” I call out a little louder than I should have. Reaching out, I grab his arm—or should I say muscles. “I’m sorry. I’m just… I’m sorry.” There’s no need to make an excuse. I was a bitch and we both know it. “I would love the company.” I look down at my shoes, feeling my face heat.

  He steps back to my side and takes a sip from the bottle of water he’s holding. “I’m the drummer,” he finally says, breaking the ice.

  “Is that the only instrument you play?” I ask him.

  “I dabble on the piano. My mom insisted I take lessons as a kid. I do all right on the guitar, and I can get nasty with a harmonica, but my true love is the drums.” We’re both quiet before he presses his shoulder into mine softly. “This is the part where you tell me what it is you do.” He winks when I look up at him.

  “Right.” I need to get myself together. So what if he’s famous? He’s just being nice to me. It’s not like he knows anyone but Logan and the rest of the band. “I’m in restaurant management. I just graduated from the University of Cincinnati a few months ago.”

  “Nice. So you and Log are the same age?”

  “Yeah, she’s two months older than me.”

  “What exactly do restaurant managers do?” he asks.

  “I’m sure you don’t need me to bore you with that information.” I can’t believe he’s even over here talking to me right now. My job will surely bore him to tears.

  “We could go mingle instead.” He quirks a brow.

  “Staff schedules, ordering supplies, hiring, and firing. I basically oversee the overall operations—on my shift, that is. I’m currently a shift manager, along with two other people. We rotate nights and weekends.” I ramble on the basic list of duties that fall in my job description. Mingle, I think not. I’m good here in the corner.

  “Is that your dream?”

  “Honestly I don’t know. I just wanted a career, something I knew I could make a decent living at and be able to take care of myself.” At my confession, he turns to look at me, a strange expression on his face. “What?”

  “Nothing, just you’re a lot like Logan. Driven, independent.”

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  “Not at all. More of an anomaly where I come from.”

  “You’ve been hanging out with the wrong crowd, Tristan Lewis.”

  “I think you’re right, Lauren Andrews. I think you’re right.”

  We spend the next hour standing in that corner, talking about things that are nonessential yet it’s the best conversation I’ve ever had.

  “What about football? You a fan?” he asks.

  “I’ve grown up with my dad and Logan’s cheering on the Bengals. I wouldn’t say I’m a fan, but I watch it.”

  He laughs, it’s a deep timbre. “So you are or are not a Bengals fan? This could end our friendship,” he teases.

  “Friendship?” I ask him.

  He bumps his shoulder into mine. “I can always use an honest friend. How about you?”

  “Yeah,” I agree. He’s right, I can, but the idea of him wanting to be friends with me is kind of blowing my mind. He’s a freaking rock star!

  “Not a Bengals fan, not really. I would say it’s safe to say I’m not a “fan” of any one team. I can watch it, but half the time I don’t even know what’s going on.”

  “Well, friend, looks like I have a lot to teach you. Oh, and I’m a Titan’s fan through and through.”

  I laugh. “That’s right, y’all are from Nashville.”

  “Correct,” he says, pointing at me. “Hey.” I turn to look at him and he pulls out his phone. “Let’s exchange numbers. When football season starts, I’m go
ing to need to be able to get ahold of you. You know, to teach you about the game.”

  “You’re going to teach me?” I ask. I can’t believe this is happening.

  He shrugs, a smile tipping the corner of his lips. “That’s what friends are for.”

  Today is Logan’s wedding day and I think I’m more nervous than she is. It’s been three months since Logan and the Soul Serenade guys were in town for her engagement. That’s the last time I saw Tristan. The weeks leading up to that event we sent text messages back and forth. Mostly football trivia at first, rules of the game. Tristan sticking to his word that he was going to teach me. Oddly enough, I retain the information when it’s him explaining it. My dad, uncle and even Logan’s brother Jase who plays football has tried to teach me. It was a lost cause, until Tristan.

  I didn’t get to see him much when they were here, but we did all hang out at Logan and Kacen’s new house. Somehow I always ended up sitting next to Tristan, not that I’m complaining. Pulling out my phone, I look at the last message he sent me about twenty minutes ago.

  Tristan: How are things over in the bride’s camp?

  Me: All is good. Groom?

  Tristan: Cagey as hell. Ready to get this show on the road.

  Me: What’s he so worried about?

  Tristan: He’s on the brink of getting everything he’s ever wanted. He won’t rest until they say I do.

  Me: Awe.

  Tristan: You a fairy-tale girl?

  Me: Is there any other way to be? I mean a girl can dream, right?

  Tristan: Dreams do come true you know.

  Me: #lifegoals

  Tristan: LOL. See you at the aisle.

  Hence the reason for my nerves. Logan paired Tristan and me to walk down the aisle together. It shouldn’t be a big deal and it’s not, not really. Well, it wouldn’t be if I didn’t have this growing crush for him. He’s funny, and even though I’ve spent limited time with him, I can tell there’s more to him. I can tell that he’s a great guy, not at all just the playboy the tabloids make him out to be.

  When my phone rings and I see it’s a Facetime request from Tristan, I panic. This is a first from him, we’ve only ever texted up to this point. “I’ll be right back,” I yell over my shoulder and rush from the room. “Hey,” I say, accepting the call.

  Tristan whistles. “Looking good, Lauren. You ladies ready over there?”

  “Uh-yeah, we’re good. You?”

  “All good.” He winks.

  “Did, um, did you need something?” I ask hesitantly.

  “Yeah, but I got it already.”

  “O-kay,” I say slowly, not really understanding.

  “Just wanted to see you in your dress,” he confesses.

  “You’ll see me in a few minutes,” I remind him.

  “Yeah, but I didn’t want to wait. You look beautiful, Lauren. I’ll see you in a few.”

  “See you,” I say, waving at my phone like an idiot. Tristan smiles a wide smile just before the screen goes back.

  “Lauren.” Stacy sticks her head out the door. “We’re saying our goodbyes.” She waves me in the room.

  The next ten minutes are a whirlwind of emotions, and not just mine. After touching up our make-up we head toward the guys and my Uncle who are waiting on is. Linking arms with Tristan and walking down the aisle is an experience. He keeps his hand over mine that rests in the crook of his arm. He smells so damn good, I just want to lean in and sniff him. Of course, I don’t, but I can assure you that when we have our wedding party dance, I’ll be getting as close as he lets me.

  The wedding is beautiful. Logan and Kacen, they have a love that will last a lifetime, you can see it in the way they look at each other. The reception is hopping and if I’m not mistaken, a romance or two is brewing. Cole and Stacy seem pretty cozy, and then there’s Gavin and Cassidy. They’ve been close all night as well. Then again, I’ve been sitting next to Tristan all night too. That’s how we were paired up for the wedding, so maybe that’s the only reason. I, for one, am sure there is not a romance with Tristan and me. Sure, we talk, he flirts, but that’s who he is. He’s a rock star who has women falling at his feet; he’s not going to start a romance with a plain Jane girl from Ohio. Especially not one related to one of his best friend’s new wife. What do they say, don’t shit where you eat?

  The night is full of laughter, good music, dancing, tears, and a lot of love for the bride and groom. All though I’m exhausted, I hate to see it end. Tristan has been with me the entire night. Earlier, I was hoping to get a good whiff of his cologne at our mandated dance. I didn’t anticipate that every dance he danced would be with me and me with him. With exception of my dad and his mom.

  “You ready to call it a night?” he asks me.

  “Yeah, I was just thinking about going up to my room. It’s been a long day.”

  “I’ll walk you.” He stands and pulls out my chair.

  “You don’t have to do that,” I tell him.

  “I know I don’t have to, I want to. Kace and Log are already gone, and I’m beat too.”

  Both of our parents left right after the bride and groom along with most of the guests. We say a quick goodbye to Cole, Stacy, Gavin, and Cassidy who appear to be deep into conversation and not moving anytime soon. Tristan places his hand on the small of my back, guiding me through the hallway. The heat is searing against the thin layer of my dress. I stop in front of my room and pull my keycard out of my small clutch.

  “Thank you, for walking me to my room,” I say nervously.

  He reaches out and tucks my bangs back behind my ear. “You’re welcome, Lauren,” he says softly. He leans in and I try not to panic. Is he going to kiss me? When his lips land on my forehead, I exhale. “Sleep well, beautiful.” With that, he steps back. With shaking hands, I place the card into the slot and unlock the door.

  Hand on the door, pushing it open, I turn to look at him over my shoulder. “Goodnight, Tristan Lewis.”

  I go through the motions, stripping out of my dress, washing my face and then decide I need a shower. I take my time, letting tonight replay. I had a great time and I owe that to Tristan. Slipping into a tank and some sleep shorts, I climb into bed when I hear my phone beep. I groan but climb out of bed to get it where I left it on the dresser. I can’t prevent my smile when I see it’s from Tristan.

  Tristan: I had fun tonight.

  Me: Me too. Thank you for that.

  Tristan: You make it easy.

  I can feel my face heat. It’s things like that that make it impossible not to fall for him.

  Tristan: Breakfast tomorrow?

  Me: You don’t have to do that.

  Tristan: Text me when you wake up. I’ll stop by your room and we can go down together.

  I can’t say no, not that I want to.

  Me: Okay.

  Tristan: Sweet dreams, beautiful, Lauren.

  Sitting on the bus, I stare out the window, watching the night sky pass us by. We finally have a few days off, and conveniently it’s in Cincinnati, Ohio, where Logan’s from. Kacen bought a house here a few months ago, and we’re all going to be staying there for a few days. Well, everyone except Cole and Stacy. We just sent them off in a cab to a hotel. Stacy has strep throat and doesn’t want to risk getting Logan sick. She’s in good hands with Cole.

  It’s been a few months since we’ve been here. The last was when we all flew in for Logan’s grandfather’s funeral. That was a bittersweet time for me. I felt the loss for my friend—hell, she’s more than that. Although the guys and I aren’t blood related, we’re still brothers. Logan married one of my brothers, making her my honorary sister.

  That was also the trip where I got to meet her. Lauren. Logan’s cousin. From the moment we were introduced, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Her long brown hair, those big brown eyes filled with sadness. I wanted to help erase the pain from those eyes. Lucky for me, I got to spend some time with her while we were there, use my charm on her to get her number. I texted her da
ily, and while at first I would get simple answers like yes or no, I kept at it. I was resilient when it came to getting her attention. Eventually she gave in and her texts became more than just one word. From that first moment, she captivated me.

  The next time I got to see her was at Kacen and Logan’s engagement party. She was wearing this little green dress, her hair loose down her back. I remember I followed her around like a little puppy, just waiting for a morsel of her time. We danced and flirted—well, I flirted, while she laughed at my antics and put up with me all night. Then her texts became full-on conversations, and I loved it. She was easy to talk to once you broke past her walls, different than anyone I’d ever met.

  Then there was the wedding. I kept her by my side the entire night. If she needed to talk to someone, I followed her. If I needed to talk to someone, I convinced her to go with me. I kept her on the dance floor as much as possible, holding those curves that were made to drive a man crazy. At the end of the night, my cock was hard and begging for release, but I did something I’ve never done: I walked her to her hotel room and kissed her good night. A gentle press of my lips against her forehead and then I left. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.

  I’m not a relationship guy. With my career, women throw themselves at me, and I take full advantage of what’s offered. That may make me an asshole, but the ladies know the score. But Logan is family to me, and Lauren is her cousin. I don’t need that bad blood between any of us. No matter how badly I wanted to hold onto those curves and slide deep inside of her, I couldn’t even entertain the idea.

  She’s been all I can think about. I text her every day, all day long, and she does the same. She even initiates the conversation now. I’ve stopped going out, stopped sleeping with groupies, the randoms who are always ready and willing. I’d rather lie in my bunk and text her. On the rare occasion that I’m alone, I call and we chat for a while, but mostly it’s text messages. I tried to convince her to come to the show tonight, but she said she had to work. I get it, but I’m disappointed. I would’ve liked to have seen her backstage. I want her to be able to experience that.