Violet Lane (Love is Music Book 1) Read online

  Copyright © 2018 by R.M. Lynn

  All rights reserved, including the rights to reproduce this book or any portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents:

  Chapter 1: Kyler

  Chapter 2: Alivia

  Chapter 3: Kyler

  Chapter 4: Alivia

  Chapter 5: Kyler

  Chapter 6: Kyler

  Chapter 7: Alivia

  Chapter 8: Kyler

  Chapter 9: Alivia

  Chapter 10: Kyler

  Chapter 11: Alivia

  Chapter 12: Kyler

  Chapter 13: Kyler

  Chapter 14: Alivia

  Chapter 15: Kyler

  Chapter 16: Alivia

  Chapter 17: Kyler

  Chapter 18: Alivia

  Chapter 19: Kyler

  Epilogue: Dylan

  Violet Lane

  One good thing about music, when it hits you, you feel no pain.

  -Bob Marley

  Part One

  Chapter One

  Kyler

  The house is packed. Bodies everywhere, some with drinks in hand, others pressed against a neighboring body. T-Pain’s voice sounds over the speakers in every corner of the place, confessing his love for a stripper. The song reminds me of junior high days, when we listened to provocative music as loud as we could, waiting for the day our mothers actually heard the words being sung. I’m unsure as to why I decided it was a good idea to attend the fucking party. Classes start tomorrow, and while I’m normally not the kind of guy to give a shit, I know senior year is the time most of us slack off. Most of the time, I’d agree with them. However, my parents are on my ass this year. With the threat of them yanking their money away, I know it’s time to buckle down. It’s not that I’m stupid or anything. It’s simply that I have better things to do.

  A redhead with the longest legs I’ve ever seen walks past me, and all thoughts of school dissipate. See? Better things to do. She sends me a come hither look over her shoulder and disappears into the crowd. I toss the rest of my beer back and follow. On my way through, I’m greeted by some familiar faces. Others simply claim they’re fans. As they should be.

  When I get through the crowd in the front of the house, my eyes catch a flash of red hair. She’s heading up the stairs, and just as I’m about to follow, one of my best friends approaches and puts his hand on my shoulder.

  “Kyler, dude, where’ve you been?” Dylan asks as he shoves one of two red solo cups into my hand.

  “Dylan, can we chat later? I-” I stop short as I look up to see my redhead has disappeared once again. “Fuck, man, I was on a mission.”

  Dylan chuckles and says, “Sorry, but I think there’s someone else here that may need attention.”

  He gestures with his hand to a table at the far end of the back of the house, near the kitchen. Kegs surround the thing, but the top of it is clear. Well, as clear as it can be. A girl is on top, swaying her hips to T-Pain, her dark hair surrounding her face, moving with the rest of her body. I can’t see her face with her hair in the way, but I can appreciate the rest of her. She has a dancer’s body. Lean and tight. Her legs are long, but she can’t be more than five feet seven. Her black heels add a few inches, though. She’s wearing black jeans with tears at the knees. A small black purse is slung over a shoulder and across her chest, landing at her hip. She’s wearing a white t-shirt with The Beatles written across her chest in bold letters. I can see her red bra through the material. The triangle cut out at her neckline gives me access to her cleavage.

  “She’s fucking hot,” Dylan shouts to me over the music.

  I don’t agree out loud. He’s right, of course, but without seeing her face, I can’t be sure. She could be a complete butter-face for all I know. The thought dissipates immediately, when she throws her head back, exposing her face and neck.

  “Fuck yeah, she is,” I finally say to Dylan.

  The angle of her jaw, her small nose, and her fucking perfect lips which currently sport a bright red color. She’s beautiful. Dylan and I aren’t the only ones to take notice either. Soon, the table is surrounded. Two guys wearing polos and khakis reach for her. It only takes me a moment to realize who the guys are. Jacob Henderson and Ronnie Vincent are two of the biggest fucktards this campus has to offer. I have heard the stories, girls not remembering how they ended up in their beds. Yet, even with these stories spreading across campus like wildfire, girls still flock to them and their band of douchebags. They’re not bad looking for a bunch of pricks, both of them with gelled blonde hair and decent builds. I can see the girl on the table smile at them as they go to hand her a cup.

  For me, that’s enough to propel me through the growing crowd and shove Jacob’s shoulder hard enough to make the cup drop just as her fingers move to wrap around it.

  “What the fuck, Parks?” Jacob barks at me as Ronnie takes his spot behind him.

  “Get the fuck out of here, Henderson, before I have to beat your ass. Again,” I snap back as Dylan makes his way to my side.

  “Maybe I don’t want him to get out of here,” a voice suddenly giggles.

  I look up at the girl on the table, who is now trying to get down. She stumbles, but I’m there to grab her around her waist. I set her down in front of me, my arms dropping to my sides, but she continues to lean into me, unsteady on her own two feet. My hand raises to hold onto her bicep as her back presses into my front. She looks up at me, and I’m immediately frozen. Her eyes are blue. And if I were the type, I’d say they looked like a hurricane. Blue with gray flecks around her pupil. She’s even more beautiful up close like this. Her dark brown hair is wild and long. She’s been drinking a lot, that much I can tell. She isn’t somebody I recognize, so I speculate she’s younger than I am.

  “Hmm, maybe I’ve changed my mind,” she says as she turns to face me completely. “Maybe I want them to go and you to stay.”

  I swallow and look over her face again.

  Damn.

  “You heard her, boys,” Dylan announces, causing me to break eye contact with the girl and look up at Jacob and Ronnie, who scowl at my friend. “Get the fuck out of here, and if I find out anything was in that drink, I’ll kick your ass so hard you won’t be able to sit for weeks.”

  Jacob and Ronnie mumble something to each other before turning and heading into the crowd. I look back down at the girl as she begins to sway to the music. She’s fucking sloshed. I look back up at Dylan and ask him if he ever saw her with any friends. Girls do that, right? She wouldn’t come alone, and her friends wouldn’t leave her. At least, I hope that’s the case.

  “I haven’t seen anyone else with her,” Dylan tells me. “I only spotted her a minute or two before I ran into you.”

  “Fuck,” I mutter mostly to myself as the girl looks up at me again.

  “What’s your name?” she asks.

  I dip my head so my ear brushes her cheek. She repeats herself, this time with her hand running up my forearm. My skin feels on fire as her touch spreads up my arm.

  “Kyler,” I tell her and pull back. “Do you have any friends here?”

  She nods and says, “They’re somewhere. I think Mack went upstairs. Can you help me?”

  I don’t know who the fuck Mack is, but they sound like a shitty friend. She’s obviously intoxicated, and I can’t be certain if she successfully avoided being drugged by some asshole if she was so willing to take a drink from someone like
Jacob and Ronnie. Dylan spares me a glance with amusement in his eyes.

  “Looks like you’re on babysitting duty tonight, my friend,” he chuckles and claps my shoulder.

  “Fuck off,” I growl as the girl grabs my hand and gives it a tug.

  “Let’s check upstairs for her,” she says and pulls me into the crowd.

  We reach the stairs, and she struggles with the first few steps. I heave a sigh and wrap an arm around her waist, helping her the rest of the way up. She giggles to herself for most of the way. We hit the upstairs hallway, when she stops abruptly. My chest hits her, and I scowl.

  “What is the problem?” I snap as I step in front of her and face her.

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” she mutters with a grimace.

  “Fuck me,” I groan. “C’mon, the bathroom’s right here.”

  I shove her into the bathroom two doors down as gently as I can as frustration sweeps into my veins. Of course, this would happen to me. All I wanted was to get in between the legs of a redhead or even a blonde. When given the chance, of course, Dylan has to ruin it for me. I watch from the vanity as the girl drops to her knees in front of the toilet, my arms crossing over my chest. Serves her right for going off on her own, either letting her friends ditch her or ditching them herself. I could easily leave and never look back, but as I reach for the doorknob and hear the notable sounds of puking, I can’t get myself to leave her alone. I’d never live with myself if I left and someone like Jacob came to take advantage of her.

  I release the doorknob with a curse and move my large body across the small bathroom until I’m standing behind her. I crouch down behind her and wrap her hair around my hand. She groans as her forehead presses against the toilet seat. I grimace.

  “I wouldn’t lay my head there, if I were you,” I say to her.

  “I don’t need the lecture right now,” she snaps back causing a smirk to spread across my face.

  I release her hair and stand. Going over to the cabinet under the sink, I find a pile of folded up wash cloths. I grab one and stick it under the faucet. After wringing it out, I get back into position behind her and press the damp cloth to her forehead. She mumbles a thank you. My eyes take in her face for the fiftieth time since I first laid eyes on her. She’s fucking pretty, even when she’s been vomiting. She shifts so her face is no longer turned toward me.

  “You good?” I ask softly and lay the cloth on the edge of the bathtub next to us.

  “Nope,” she grumbles and leans over the toilet bowl once more.

  Her hair is back in my hand, and I hesitate for a moment before letting my other hand fall to her hip as a sign of support. Well, that’s what I tell myself, but I really just want the excuse to touch her. Even if she’s puking her guts out. Her body lets her take a break, and I put the cloth on the back of her neck. She thanks me with a soft moan that I feel in all of my extremities. She sits back, her ass in between my bent legs, and her back pushes against my chest.

  “I think I’m good now,” she says sounding slightly more chipper now.

  “That’s good,” I say on a chuckle.

  She tips her head up to look at me. “You’re not bad to look at, you know.”

  I grin and tell her, “Thank you. You’re not bad yourself.”

  She rolls her eyes and pushes down on my shoulder as she tries to stand. I help her up the rest of the way as I stand with her. I look under the sink again and retrieve a bottle of mouth wash. I can’t help but smile as I hand it to her. She frowns at me, but opens the bottle and waterfalls some of the greenish blue liquid into her mouth. She swishes and spits before running her fingers through her hair, letting the loose curls fall across her back.

  “Ready to find your friend?” I ask her.

  She nods, opens the bathroom door, and walks out as I follow. We check the rooms down the hallway. At least, we check the rooms that are left unlocked. She’s still unsteady on her feet and by the time we get to the last door, her eyes are fighting to stay open.

  “I’m exhausted,” she mutters. “Maybe I should just go home. She isn’t answering any of my texts either. She could be with a guy.”

  “Do you have a way home?” I ask her as she sways into me.

  She shrugs tiredly and mumbles, “I can ask someone downstairs.”

  Fuck. That. Jacob and Ronnie would love nothing better than to ‘give her a ride’. I clench my fists at my side, once again irritated that she’s somehow my responsibility. And yet, I did this to myself, of course. With another sigh, I grab her hand and escort her down the stairs. I spot Dylan on the couch in the living room with a blonde on either side of him. Lucky bastard. I swallow my frustration and throw him a wave. He grins wide at me and gives me a salute. The girl trails behind me and follows me through the front door and onto the old wood deck.

  “Kyler, man, you leaving so soon?” Tanner Meeks asks me as he comes up onto the deck carrying four bottles of vodka. “I just got back from the liquor store.”

  I’ve known Tanner since our sophomore year when I met him in a music theory class. It was one of the worst classes I’d ever taken, but Tanner made it as entertaining as possible. He’s a nice guy, a bit nerdy, but as far as I can tell, he does well with the ladies. He claims the glasses work for him. He’s renting the house with a few other guys from his intramural soccer league.

  I glance down at the girl next to me and then back up to Tanner. “Yeah, man, sorry. I got to get this one home.”

  He smiles at the girl and says, “Yeah, good idea. We’re having another party next weekend. You’ll be here?”

  I shrug and work my way down the stairs, pulling the girl with me, and say, “Yeah, maybe, man. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Later, Kyler,”

  The girl stumbles down the walkway with her hand in mine, and I stop when we get to the sidewalk to dig into my pocket for my keys. She starts to shiver and inserts herself under my arm, pressing her front to my side.

  “It’s freezing out here.”

  “No shit,” I shoot back.

  She’s right. My balls are protesting in my jeans as we speak. It’s unusually cold for a day in late August, but with Wisconsin, the weather is just as unpredictable as a thirteen-year-old girl’s mood swings. I walk the half a block down with her in tow, eyeing the line of cars until I find my Jeep. It was the one gift from my parents before I went off to college, and I thank them every chance I get for it. My Jeep has been a better wingman than any of my friends could ever be. The girl looks over the shiny black paint and smiles to herself. My hand touches the small of her back, propelling her forward to the curb. I open the door for her, and she uses my shoulder to heft herself up into the passenger seat. The back of her head hits the headrest and her eyes immediately close. I sigh and reach over her to help her with her seat belt.

  “I can do it,” she snaps suddenly and yanks the belt from me.

  I hold up my hands and take a step back, grinning. Once she buckles herself in, I shut the door and jog to the driver’s side. I start the Jeep and buckle myself in before turning to look at her.

  “Can I have your address?” I ask softly.

  “It’s the apartment complex off of Monroe,” she replies as one hand goes up to massage her temple while the other goes to my stereo. “Do you know it?”

  I smirk and merge over onto the road. “Yeah, I know it.”

  This night just gets better and better.

  She fiddles with the radio for about five minutes before I finally yank my phone out of my pocket and toss it to her.

  “Here,” I mutter as my eyes dance between the road and her face. “It’s hooked up to my Bluetooth. The passcode is zero-three-eleven. I have Spotify.”

  She smiles wide as she unlocks my phone and opens up the music app. She scrolls through my giant playlist until she finds a song she likes. Billy Joel’s Piano Man hums quietly through the vehicle. I can feel her eyes on me as I keep mine trained on the road.

  “I can feel you looking at me
,” I finally say and spare a glance her way.

  She turns her head straight and looks at her lap. “Sorry,” slips from her red lips. I glance from the road to her again just as she looks back up at me. I look away as she asks, “How come you gave me your passcode? Most guys would never.”

  I shrug and mutter, “I have nothing to hide, and I don’t know you enough to care about any judgements you might make.”

  She nods in understanding, a smile dancing across her lips. “So, what’s your passcode signify then? Your birthday?”

  I smirk and glance at her before saying, “It’s my mom’s.”

  Her eyes soften momentarily, and she replies, “That’s tremendously cute.”

  I smile fully but say nothing else. I pull into the apartment complex just as a new song begins. She points me to her building, one of four, and I pull into a spot. I can’t help but grin to myself as I shut the Jeep off and hop out, going around to the passenger side to open her door for her.

  “What a gentleman, you are,” she praises, holding onto my forearm before jumping down with a slight wobble. “I’m on the third floor. Can you believe this place doesn’t have a single elevator?”

  I don’t do anything but smile. I glance at the building, at the stairs and balcony’s around each floor, each one guarding the floor below from the elements.

  “Do you need some help up?” I finally ask as she heads for the wooden staircase.

  She looks up at me sheepishly and says, “Would you mind? I’m still really feeling all those shots I took.”

  I shake my head, hide a grin, and wrap an arm around her slim waist. It’s a slow process, but we eventually reach the third floor. I can’t hold back my grin when she walks us to apartment 3B. I press my hand to the back of my neck and lean against the tan bricks as she fumbles with her purse. Once she retrieves her keys, she looks up at me.

  “Why’re you smiling?”

  “No reason.”

  She bites her lower lip, releases it, and whispers, “Would you want to come in?”