![]() And last night, it hadn’t only been pictures of Rush Moder we were looking at, but his words too. She even had a shirtless photo of him set as the screen saver on her phone. I could understand why-dark hair, designer stubble, a strong jaw, piercing blue eyes… He was incendiary. ![]() Tessa had been perving over Rush Moder, something she’d started doing almost three years ago when Indigo Rain had their first UK number one. “Remember how last night, someone put on an Indigo Rain song and we started perving over pictures of Rush Moder on Instagram?” What did you do, Tessa?” I asked for the third time. “I already tried that last night, and look how it turned out. “It’s actually really good news if you decide not to be boring for the rest of your life.” “So, tell me why I’m gonna hate you more than I already do right now.” Someone had drawn a smiley face on the clock above the sink. Tessa slid a mug of coffee across the kitchen island in my direction, and I propped myself up on a stool. What were the symptoms of an aneurysm? Something in my head felt as though it was about to burst. Was that a red wine stain on the carpet? Or worse, blood? With Tessa and a blow-up doll as my witnesses, I was never holding a party again. I rolled off the sofa, tripped over a cushion, then paused to pick up a lamp on my quest to find caffeine. But then they’d decided to travel around South America for a month, and since I’d just started my summer break from university, I’d been left home alone. They’d only been together for a few months, but they were perfect for each other, and I couldn’t have been happier for them when they’d decided on the spur of the moment to tie the knot in Las Vegas. But Zander had raised me from the age of fourteen, so to me, sharing a home with him was normal-first a crappy bedsit in Sydenham, and now our riverside apartment in Chelsea. Perhaps you’re thinking it was a strange arrangement, me living with my half-brother and his new wife, and I guess you’re kind of right. Which meant we only had one day to make the apartment look perfect again. Possibly because I’d unplugged the stereo straight away, or maybe because Tessa had cried-crying on cue was her party trick, quite literally-but when everybody scuttled away, we’d been left with the mess to clean up. The police had actually been quite understanding. Which meant my brother was sure to find out what I’d done when he got back from his honeymoon, and he’d probably lecture me for twenty-four hours straight. ![]() You haven’t lived until you’ve had to grovel to the police at three o’clock in the morning.” “I can’t believe you talked me into having a party.” ![]() How about I go and puke in the bathroom instead? “Tell you what, why don’t you get up and have a cup of coffee first? Or some more wine? There’s half a bottle of…” She ducked back into the kitchen. Judging by the apologetic grimace on her face, it would be the latter. “You’re either gonna love me or you’re gonna hate me.” Once, she’d been my best friend, but not anymore seeing as last night’s get-together had been her idea. Tessa poked her head around the kitchen door. I’d fallen asleep-or rather, passed out-on the sofa, and between there and the kitchen, the apartment I shared with my brother looked as though the love child of a hurricane and a tornado had rampaged through it. Huh? My neck creaked as I turned my head to the side. Can Alana find out what makes Travis tick before becoming a victim herself? Accidents keep happening, and nobody wants to attend another funeral. Everyone has their secrets, especially the enigmatic lead singer, Travis Thorne. Life on tour isn’t quite what Alana expected, and neither are the members of Indigo Rain. Several drunken messages and one gold bikini later, Alana finds herself working as social media coordinator to Rush Moder, one quarter of the world’s hottest rock band. Journalism student Alana Graves is having second thoughts about her choice of career when her best friend, Tessa, decides to help her out.
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