Kiss the Stars (Falling Stars 1)

He glanced at Leif.

Emotion punched me in the chest.

And I knew it. I knew it to my soul.

Leif needed me, too.

Maybe as much as I’d grown to need him.

Leif sighed, as if he’d expected all of this, and he was shocking me again when he wound his arm around my waist and tucked me to his side.

Statement made.

Claiming me in front of them.

I had the urge to bury my face in his neck. Breathe in his warmth. Swim in the possibility.

And I knew I was getting ahead of myself, but then he spread his hand out against the small of my back and pressed a kiss to my temple.

That time, there was no stopping it.

Everything raced.

Attraction and electricity.

Leif cleared his throat. “Guys . . . this is Mia. Mia . . . this is the band.”

He waved a hand at the girl out front. “Emily. Our lead singer. Lyricist and the most memorable, beautiful voice you’ll ever hear.”

The cute blonde waved with a shy smile. “Hi, Mia. I’m so happy to meet you. And for the record, don’t get too excited. Leif might be exaggerating a tad.”

Leif leaned toward my ear, though he said it loud enough that everyone could hear. “Not exaggerating.”

“Hey, Emily,” I said.

Leif lifted his chin toward the tall guy at her side. “Richard. Guitarist. Songwriter. Vocals. Also Emily’s brother. Two of them started the band way back when they were kids.”

Oh, yeah, there it was.

The resemblance.

“Good to meet you, Mia,” Richard rumbled, eyes roving me, head to toe.

Not because he was checking me out.

Okay.

He was checking me out, but not because he was interested.

He was looking out for his friend. Wondering about my intentions. If I was there to cling to Leif’s coattails on his way to stardom, get a free ride into the fame and the limelight and, if Lyrik’s predictions were right, a huge fortune in their future.

Which the idea of it was kind of hysterical considering I’d sworn to myself I’d never date a musician.

And there I was. The girl hoping to catch the drummer’s eye, but not for any of the reasons that Richard might have assumed.

“It’s really great to meet you, too, Richard.”

Leif pointed at the burly guy who’d just been tossing me around. “And this one here is Rhys. Our bassist. You’d do best to ignore him,” he said, razzing his friend.

Rhys held up his hands in disbelief, his arms completely covered in gorgeous ink, swirls of words and dancing notes and brilliant, majestic landscapes.

It seemed completely at odds with the fact he screamed that he was one-hundred percent a country boy.

All the way to the bones and the scuffed-up boots he wore on his feet.

“Hold the reins. Ignore me? And how is this girl gonna ignore all this? Come now, Leif. Let’s not talk nonsense. And here you pretend to be the smart one.”

He gestured to himself.

A slight giggle slipped out.

He was a big, huge goofball with an easy smile and a gruff voice.

He swung his attention to me. “Your boy here is just jealous he’s in the background bangin’ away at those drums and no one pays him a lick of attention. Except, it seems he went off and found himself a little attention, now, didn’t he?”

He wagged his brows.

Leif’s chuckle was free and warm, and he cleared his throat. The arm around me twitched, his fingers gliding under the back of my jacket and brushing across the satiny material.

Like he needed the connection.

And there went my train of thought.

Dipping right into his hands.

Drifting toward his gorgeous body.

“Mia is Lyrik West’s younger sister.”

Silence descended, a rumble of shock and eyebrows darting for the sky.

Lyrik West had that effect.

At least Richard could rest assured that I wasn’t a starfucker.

The man roughed a hand through his hair and gave Leif the side eye.

Like maybe he thought he was crazy.

Chasing down a death wish.

My brother came with a reputation.

No doubt about that.

Cracking up, Rhys wagged a finger at me, but he was smirking at Leif as the ramble began to pour out, “You really did go and find yourself a rock ‘n’ princess, didn’t you? Royalty, baby.” His gaze shot my way. “Your brother is a motherfuckin’ superstar. Someone stop me if I fangirl.”

Richard smacked him on the back of the head. “Dude.” He angled his head and repeated it with emphasis. “Dude.”

I didn’t know if he was telling him to play it cool or reminding him that he was, in fact, a dude.

Rhys hiked his shoulders to his ears. “What? We’re talkin’ about the Lyrik West. And this is his baby sister. With Leif.”

There I went with that blush again.

Emily shoved Rhys in the shoulder. “Like Leif said, you’d do best to ignore this one.”

Rhys shook his head. “Can a man get no love?”

She patted his chest. “Not if it’s you.”