Song Stealer: Rockstar Romance Series, #1

By Ruby Loren

Guitar strings and hearts are both set to break.

Georgia Caine is a liar. 

She’s been having guitar lessons with Alex Harris for a whole year, hoping that while she stumbles over three-chord progressions, he’ll somehow fall for a shy girl like her. What Alex doesn’t know is that Georgia is a better player than he is. She’s the lead guitarist for Rebel Rockets, a rifftastic rock band. When Alex and Georgia’s mutual friend Liam gives Georgia an ultimatum, she finally comes clean. But when Alex finds out the truth, he decides to get even. 

Three months later, Georgia gets shot on stage in front of ten thousand people. 

And it’s all Alex Harris’s fault. 

Will Georgia’s love for Alex conquer her desire for revenge?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ruby Loren
• Release date: Jul 13, 2016
• ISBN: 9781533730251

Book preview

Contents

Song Stealer

Copyright © 2016 Ruby Loren

For all of the secret rock stars out there.

Read The Sequel For Free!

Other Books In The Series

Prologue

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

TWENTY ONE

TWENTY TWO

TWENTY THREE

TWENTY FOUR

TWENTY FIVE

TWENTY SIX

TWENTY SEVEN

TWENTY EIGHT

TWENTY NINE

THIRTY

THIRTY ONE

THIRTY TWO

THIRTY THREE

THIRTY FOUR

THIRTY FIVE

THIRTY SIX

THIRTY SEVEN

THIRTY EIGHT

EPILOGUE

Other Books In The Series

Read The Sequel For Free!

Song Stealer

Ruby Loren

Copyright © 2016 Ruby Loren

All rights reserved.

For all of the secret rock stars out there.

Pick up your FREE copy of Summer’s Last Sigh, the exciting mini-sequel!

Simply click on the link and let me know where to send your free book:

http://rubyloren.com/summers-last-sigh/

Other books in the series:

Summer's last Sigh

Back From Nowhere

Prologue

Georgia didn’t immediately realise she’d been shot.

She felt a massive force hit her stomach and was lifted off her feet and thrown backwards into the drum riser. Her mind was a blank during the time she was suspended in the air and the noise of the gun echoed in her ears. Then she ended her brief flight by crashing through the cymbals and knocking the band’s drummer off his stool. They both fell back into the dark void behind the stage, taking most of the kit with them. The sound of the gunshot was lost beneath the industrial cacophony of a maniac’s drum solo.

She lay on her back next to Jake, who was rolling around the floor groaning. They’d hit the ground pretty hard and she was fairly certain that it was his body that had acted as her cushion. She’d apologise later.

The stage lights snapped out. For some reason she didn’t feel any pain and that worried her a lot. That probably meant it was serious. She took a deep breath. It was time to check the damage.

Georgia figured that she’d been shot by something with a hell of a calibre. Her hand trembled as she slid it up underneath her dress, inching towards her stomach where she’d felt the impact. Oh God, please, please, don’’t let there be parts hanging out, she thought.

Her skin was intact. There was no injury. A horrible thought occurred to her and she moved her hand round the front of her Les Paul Goldtop guitar and felt jagged shards of wood dig into her palm. Damn it! That was almost as bad as intestines.

The audience were screaming in the dim, evening twilight and running in all directions, most slipping on the mud. Nobody was listening to the man who’d fired the shot as he shouted out his justification. Nobody apart from Georgia, who heard every word.

These bands are destroying our society. They actively promote and glamorise drugs and alcohol. They’re murdering our children. Tonight I struck back. This is retribution!

He was going to be sorely disappointed.

It was only fair that she wasn’t dead. Apart from the odd drink, she didn’t do drugs. Neither did anyone else in the band. It got in the way of business. She was pretty damn certain that the companies who sold alcohol promoted and glamorised it far more than her band had ever done, but was this vigilante going after the evil corporations behind it all? Of course he wasn’t. But she knew the real target of his rage and she could see why he might have assumed they were all tarred with the same brush. The band that were currently acting as a fluorescent flashing billboard for sex, drugs and all the excesses of rock and roll, were signed to the same label as her group.

She raised herself up a little and in the old light she looked down at the damage her guitar had sustained. It wasn’t pretty. The twilight was exaggerating the shadows and adding drama, but one thing was obvious - it didn’t look much like a guitar anymore. It was just a broken piece of wood and lacquer, with a bullet embedded in the bridge pickup. Her heart jumped as the significance of the damage sunk in. Her stomach should be looking like the inside of a meat mincer right now. The guitar had saved her life. But her life shouldn’t have been on the line in the first place.

This was all Alex Harris’s fault.

He was the one who deserved to be shot.

ONE

Georgia

Three Months Earlier…

It was a Monday morning in May when the love of Georgia Caine’s life knocked on her door. Unfortunately he had no idea that was who he was meant to be.

She paused briefly to glance in the hallway mirror and hurriedly attempted to scrape her over-long fringe behind her ears. It fell back into her eyes almost immediately. She sighed in disappointment as she surveyed her pale complexion and overly generous nose. Her shoulders rose and fell in resignation as she watched her reflection. Not for the first time, she wished that she looked stunning enough to attract any man she wanted.

In less than four months time, almost every person in Britain would recognise her face.

Clenched in her fist, leaving a heavy indent from her too-tight grip was a black plectrum. A guitarist, you might have guessed, and you would have been right. You might further have guessed that Georgia Caine was a young woman destined to achieve widespread recognition (or even fame) with this particular instrument, and you would have been right again. The pick in her hand was a rather worn specimen, a veteran of many gigs. It had been given to her two nights ago at The Blue Shoe bar by the lead guitarist of The Bad Stuff.

Georgia ran a hand through her mousey hair out of nervous habit. Even if she had been beautiful, the man at her door was newly single and rebounding like a bouncy ball. Everyone had told her about the pictures he’d shown them of girls he was seeing. They all looked like they’d been cut out from page three. She should give it up.

Georgia looked down at the plectrum, hoping that this was a sign of favour. Considering that they’d been acquaintances for almost three years, meeting at gigs and having regular lessons together, you’d have thought that she would have known him well, but she still got the impression he was perpetually disinterested.

It wasn’t surprising he was bored. So was she.

Liam, her best friend and the bassist in Alex’s band, knew her secret: Georgia Caine was a liar. She often felt like Alex was the only person in the world who didn’t know the awful truth. Because Liam found it so hilarious, he’d told the rest of the band. Every time she went to a gig they’d ask Alex how her lessons were going. She would then have to watch him lie about her success. It was like listening to fingernails being scraped down a blackboard, and they knew it. She hoped it would be one of those things that you looked back on after several years and found mildly amusing.

Probably not.

As she stared into the mirror, she thought back to the gig two nights ago when Liam had tried to do her a favour and blow her cover. He’d asked Alex if she could get up and jam with the band. Her guitar teacher had looked stricken and even more embarrassed than usual when he’d tried to find an excuse. She’d mimed Liam’s messy and imminent demise behind his back.

I was only trying to help you out, he’d told her afterwards when they were outside alone. If you’d just got up and played, then this whole stupid pretence would be over. He might not even have been that pissed off about it all, you could have passed it off as a joke. There’d been a pause and then he’d said: Nah, this is Alex we’re talking about. He’ll be so angry. Unsurprisingly, that hadn’t helped at all.

What if you just told him how you feel? You know, let it slip out in a lesson or something? That had been Liam’s next suggestion and it was equally futile. The truth was, she and Alex didn’t really talk much at all during their hours together. He recited chords in a monotone and she half heartedly moved her fingers around.

It was a joke. All of it. She’d tried everything she could think of to get him to be her friend but he wouldn’t play the game. Lately, she’d resigned herself to the highly likely possibility that far from being interested in her, Alex Harris actively disliked her.

Liam’s look of pity had been hard to take.

Well, I guess if you did suddenly show him you’re actually a better guitarist than he is, he might take it the wrong way. But then again, it doesn’t look like your current strategy has got you very far. And that was it – the seed of an idea which had grown like a weed in Liam’s mind. He’d given her an ultimatum and today she would have to deliver or face the consequences. Her days of dreaming were about to end.

Another louder knock at the door snapped her out of her misery and made her hurry down the hallway. In a few seconds he’d give up and go away and she wasn’t about to let that happen now that she’d built herself up for what was undoubtedly going to be a painful fall.

Her front door, complete with blue peeling paint, was the last barrier she had to overcome before her final showdown with Alex, and it was no pushover. She struggled to make opening it look graceful while secretly using her full weight to make it come unstuck from the floor. Her landlord was a terrible carpenter.

Alex wasn’t even looking her way.

The dark haired man who stood outside her door was staring vacantly off into the distance. As he was otherwise engaged, she stole a glance at his super-tight, white t-shirt which showed off his well defined arms. According to Liam, he really liked to work out. She just had time to breathe in the limes-and-summer smell of him, and feel her heart jump in time to an unheard dance beat, before he turned his head and noticed her presence. His mouth curved up into a forced smile and Georgia returned it, torn over whether to laugh or cry at how apathetic he seemed. Perhaps it was for the best that he wouldn’t be coming round here anymore.

A treacherous inner voice yelled at her to stop what she was doing and to go on pretending, but she squashed it. No more false hopes.

He walked past her into the bohemian flat and she trailed after him, wanting to be somewhere else. Scrap that, she wanted to be someone else. She wished just once he’d tell her what was going on in his head even if all he was thinking was: ‘‘Georgia is the most boring, unattractive human being I’ve ever met. And she can’t play guitar.’

Careful what you wish for, it may happen! She reminded herself.

Alex pulled his chair back from where she’d placed it, so it was even further away from her. Georgia sat down and nervously clasped and unclasped her hands while he set up. The weather was mild for May, but there was no way that the temperature was as hot and sweaty as she felt right now.

Alex’s guitar always reminded her of chocolate, dark cocoa on the neck and then that delicious white chocolate gilt body, dipped so delicately that the grain of the wood showed through to the surface. He’d once told her, during a rare moment of conversation, that the reason for the thinness of paint was to allow the wood to breathe, which in turn improved the resonance of the guitar. She looked at his guitar with envy, wishing she had something that beautiful. Her mind strayed to other things as she tried to avoid thinking about the impending doom.

She’d heard a rumour from Liam, the fountain of all gossip, that Alex’s newly ex-girlfriend had cheated on him and even though he’d begged her not to leave him, she was the one who’d chucked him. Originally, that had given her hope. She’d hoped that now he was single, he’d finally notice her – the girl who’d been right under his nose all this time.

Georgia tried not to sigh and lifted her guitar off its stand. It was super self-centred, but she couldn’t help thinking that she would be the best thing that ever happened to him. She wouldn’t cheat or have high maintenance demands. If only he would give her a chance.

Her fingers silently ran over the frets, miming complex riffs and chords which Alex had never taught her. She supposed that nothing stood in the way of true love, especially not something as insignificant as logic. She finished her secret warm up and then decided that Alex had spent more time than necessary tuning his guitar.

"Let’s do something fun today. Could you teach me how to play ‘Money’ by Pink Floyd? I thought what you did with it at that gig was really cool." He kept his eyes fixed on the tuning pegs of his guitar and Georgia heard him take a deep breath.

It’s quite an advanced song, especially considering the 7/4 time signature. He glanced up and met Georgia’s hopeful eyes. Okay, I’ll see if I can break it down. I just thought I’d let you know it’ll be a challenge. Georgia flicked her amp on and got ready. She was hoping to break it to him gently. Perhaps then his anger wouldn’t be so volcanic. What was the worst that could happen anyway? She’d already got the hint that he didn’t want her in his life.

He picked out the riff, trying to play it at a tenth of the speed. It didn’t really work.

Kind of like this? She nailed the riff at normal speed and Alex’s eyes narrowed.

That was… good. So you’ve been practicing that? That wasn’’t the reaction she’d been hoping for. Now he probably thought she’d asked to learn a song she already knew and had spent ages working on, just to impress him. This had been a stupid plan. It was time to go all in.

I want to show you some songs I wrote, she said, jumping to her feet and putting her guitar back on its stand. She risked a sideways look at Alex. He so did not look thrilled. To be fair, she didn’t blame him for not jumping for joy at her announcement. As far as he was concerned, last week she’d been struggling to string together a G to B minor chord change. Well, it was going to be a big surprise.

She linked her phone up via a cable and pressed play on the ancient sound system.

Thirty seconds later, Georgia would have described Alex’s expression as uncomprehending. By the time they’d reached the solo, he looked incredulous. On the plus side, he doesn’’t look bored anymore, she thought with a sad inner smile.

Georgia pressed pause on her phone at the end of the track and looked at him guiltily, waiting for the tidal wave of rage to break. She could tell he was thinking hard but when he finally spoke, it wasn’t what she’d expected.

I think you’d better show me how to play that song. He smiled at her, a real smile, and just like that Georgia felt the spark of friendship start between them. All this time, I could have just… she started to think, and then resolved to stop thinking. It was pointless regretting the past.

He must have a hidden sense of humour beneath all those layers of mystery he wrapped himself in or he’d already be out of the door. Mentally thanking Liam for pushing her into this, she showed her guitar teacher how to play the riffs and chords in her song ‘Diamond Eyes’’.

The church clock somewhere outside her window chimed twelve and the two guitarists snapped out of their happy, musical daze. Alex looked horrified when he realised he’d been at her place for over two hours.

"I’m meant to be recording in the studio with The Bad Stuff today," he explained, obviously realising that it looked pretty rude to be so bothered about losing track of time with her. Georgia smiled easily and shrugged to show she wasn’t offended. Heck, if he wasn’t offended by her pretending she couldn’t play guitar so that she could have lessons with him, she’d let pretty much anything slide.

Whilst he was packing up his Stratocaster, she picked up a CD from the table next to the sound system and handed it to him. On it were duplicates of the demos on her phone. She’d made it to give to Jen, but she could always make another. They’d played through four of the five songs and he’d told her he loved them all.

Say ‘Hi’ to Liam for me, she said automatically, when he took the CD. Their eyes made contact and Alex saw too much.

He knows doesn’t he? They all know? His face looked like thunder. Dicks! That’s why they kept asking me how our lessons were going. Georgia shook her head.

That’s Liam’s sense of humour for you. Her smile faded and she looked away as she remembered that it had only happened because of her lying. She wondered if Alex had really forgiven her. It all seemed so stupid now, but if he’d figured out everything (it was pretty transparent what her reasons for doing it were) and was still willing to be friends, she should be grateful.

Alex sighed and also shifted his gaze away, deep in thought as the same things probably occurred to him. She looked at him with worried eyes and after a while he finally returned her eye contact.

They’re great songs. You should do something with them, he said stiffly and she looked down, embarrassed by his frank appraisal. When she raised her head again his face was only inches away.

So, are there any other secrets you’ve been keeping from me, Georgia Caine? His voice was slower, sexier than usual, and Georgia felt heat instantly rush to her cheeks as she struggled to compel herself to meet his eyes. Alex gently lifted her chin with his fingers and paused for a second before he made his first bad decision and kissed her hard on the mouth.

There was a brief passionate struggle, and Georgia had just discovered that she wanted so much more than just a kiss, when Alex ended it abruptly. He looked at her like he’d woken up from a daydream and discovered it was really a nightmare. Oh come on, I’m not that bad at kissing! She thought, offended.

I’m late, he said and tried to bolt but she caught his arm.

What the hell Alex? He looked at her and she saw that any former spark of feeling had gone from his eyes. The moment, whatever it had been, was over.

I’ve been giving you these lessons because I need the money. When I thought you needed the lessons it was almost acceptable, but now I find you’ve been humiliating me... You’’ve gone way too far. Just forget about it. Forget about me.

He walked out the door, leaving Georgia stunned. What made him change his mind? She wondered.

She closed it after him and leant against the inside of the door, which had treacherously opened smoothly for his swift exit.

It had been an interesting morning. She supposed she had wished for him to speak his mind to her. He was no Prince Charming, that was for sure, but that didn’t stop her feeling the way she felt. And now she had hope. Yes, it was a small one given his sudden rejection afterwards, but it had still happened. She had kissed Alex Harris.

She began to analyse what happened. Perhaps he’d forgotten something in the heat of the moment and the little outburst was him blaming her for that mistake. A small niggle started in the back of her mind. Was she certain that he was still single? It was nothing a text to Liam wouldn’t solve. She got out her phone.

Perhaps deep down, he’s really angry with himself because he actually likes me. She smiled at that last hopeful thought as she walked back into the living room and breathed in the fading summer scent of his cologne, still in the air and on her clothes.

Georgia Caine, guitar goddess, had just begun to get what she wanted.

TWO

Ben

Ben Wrigley was hanging out of a first floor window by his fingertips. As he heard a car door slam on the other side of the building, he let go. The concrete pavement was every bit as hard as he’d expected. He staggered to his feet and glanced up at the Monday morning sky. It wasn’’t often he was up this early, but this was the rock and roll lifestyle. You took whatever it threw at you. Speaking of which...

The very tousled looking brunette flung his clothes and shoes after him and quickly shut the window. He pulled on his trousers and happened to catch sight of a curtain twitching across the street. It looked like this morning’s little drama had a spectator. He smirked. What will the neighbours think?

Ben spun round, searching the ground, suddenly puzzled as he realised he was missing his shirt. He glanced back up to the window in time to see his lady of the night flash him an evil grin. Actually, the grin wasn’t all she was flashing at him. Well, well, it looked like she wanted to keep a souvenir. He looked better without a top on anyway.

Ben walked down Kensington Park road and hailed a cab. As he sat in the back of the classic black car, he pulled out his mobile and called the label.

Hello Claire, I’m going to be a bit late today, I got held up putting the finishing touches to the end of the album. You know how stressful it all gets. There’s so much pressure, I barely slept last night...

He glanced at his watch as they pulled into the rush hour traffic. Thankfully he hadn’t taken that off in the heat of the moment. It paid to be practical at times.

He’d already been half an hour late when he’d made the call. They can wait a bit longer, he decided as he tapped on the glass separating him in the back of the cab and asked to go via Starbucks.

No one was about to fire him. He was the most reliable artist on the label. As yet, he hadn’t made it too far up the charts, but everyone knew it was only a matter of time before he asked the question: Who do I have to sleep with around here to get a number one?" and did it.

Ben Wrigley was the one to watch.

THREE

Alex

Where were you? Sam asked when Alex finally put in an appearance at the recording studio. We haven’’t been able to do anything without you. Did you forget that we pay for this thing by the hour? It was so typical of the singer to go on the offensive. All he has to do is sit around and wait for the hard work on the tracks to be finished so he can knock out a vocal line, Alex thought.

He tried to think of a plausible excuse as to why he was late, but came up blank. Fortunately Liam saved him the trouble.

I’m guessing you were putting the final touches to the song you’ve got for us to record? And just like that, Alex was suddenly in even deeper water. He’d completely forgotten that they’d wanted a final track to fill out their EP, which had mainly been written by Liam. In a jealous moment, he’d complained that the bass player was the only one who had any creative influence in the band so they’d given him this opportunity. It looked like he was going to pay for his pride - he had nothing for them and Liam had already shown his opinion with the amount of sarcasm in which he’d saturated that question.

Alex shut his eyes. He had a few chord progression ideas and had been banking on making them into something that resembled a song right after Georgia’s lesson. He’d have cancelled the lesson to work on it some more, but he’d needed the money. Money she’d never actually paid him, he suddenly realised. But then again, he’d been the one getting the lesson. He opened his eyes.

Perhaps he did have a song for them after all.

This is… uh… just something I’ve been working on, so bear with." He grabbed hold of the battered studio acoustic, which had been hanging on the wall, and gave it an experimental strum. It would do. His fingers slipped on the strings for a moment as he hovered uncertainly. It was seeing Liam’s face, already set in a triumphant smile, that pushed him into making his second bad decision.

That was… really good, Sam said, when the final chord faded out. Alex was insulted by the surprise in his voice. Had they all thought he couldn’’t pull it off? Well, he’d proved them wrong, hadn’t he? Are there lyrics?" Alex bowed his head thoughtfully. He could remember all of the lyrics but who had written them? The singer hadn’t been Georgia. Oh well, it didn’t matter. He’d already come this far.

Sure, I’ll just write them down for you, he said, and started scribbling on a piece of paper while Sam made noises about probably having to change a few things.

When Alex handed over the finished sheet there was silence as Sam took it in and Alex was forced to hum out the melody line.

These are… Alex held his breath as Sam paused. Perfect! The singer finished, and relief washed over him mixed with this horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach that he was doing something bad. He squashed it. She owes me, he thought.

I need to get some air, Liam suddenly announced and stalked out. Sam and Alex exchanged a look and Alex pushed himself to his feet.

I’ll go and talk to him, he said, pulling out a packet of cigarettes.

Are you sure? You don’t think it would be better if I did? Sam asked, hovering nervously, and Alex shook his head, not wanting to say anything that would upset the singer. Sam was… great. But when it came to sensitive situations, he had this annoyingly over-positive attitude that just made you want to punch