Punk Rock Prelude: Radical Rock Stars, #0.5

By Jenna Galicki

Tommy Blade is a rock star on the rise—and he has a secret. A secret he has no intention of sharing with anyone.

Jessi Armstrong craves fun and excitement and has big dreams of becoming the next sought-after fashion designer.

Their worlds collide when they lock eyes at a football game and form an unbreakable connection. The pair quickly fall in love and share a relationship that most people only dream about. But their perfect storybook romance is shattered when Jessi realizes that Tommy is hiding something, and she knows exactly what it is.

Unsure how to move forward, she goes on as if nothing has changed, even though unanswered questions and uncertainty about their future plague her heart. It takes a sexy dream to open her mind to things she never imagined she'd be into, and it just may be the salvation she needs.

This full-length novel is a prequel to The Prince of Punk Rock, Radical Rock Stars Book 1. While The Prince of Punk Rock ends in a polyamorous relationship, this book is strictly mf.

Books in the Radical Rock Stars Series:
The Prince of Punk Rock
Between A Rock and A Hard Place
Punk Rock Resurrection (a true stand-alone novel)
Rock Star Redemption
Punk Rock-A-Bye-Baby
The Stage (an Immortal Angel/Bulletproof crossover story)
The Roadie (an Immortal Angel/Bulletproof crossover story)

Don't Miss the Next Generation of Rock Stars!
The progeny of legendary punk rock band Immortal Angel bring you an enemies-to-lovers and friends-to-lovers duet.

LUCAS BLADE, Radical Rock Stars Next Generation Duet #1
MASON WILDER, Radical Rock Stars Next Generation Duet #2

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jenna Galicki
• Release date: Oct 20, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223259107

Book preview

Sandwiched between her sisters Maggie and Ella, facing the football field of Fordham University, Jessi felt the energy of the crowd as the game was about to start. She surveyed the animated faces that surrounded her. Some were painted with team colors. Others were engaged in a sing-along chant.

She wasn’t particularly fond of college football. She’d much rather be at home working on a garment that she was fashioning for her design class at FIT. It was a formal gown, made from luxurious silk that cost a fortune, which she wanted to make more modern and playful. She put the project aside and only succumbed to her sisters’ invitation to attend the game because they teased her for spending so much time alone behind her sewing machine. Initially, she felt guilty for abandoning her work, but now that the sunshine bathed her skin with warmth, she was happy to be outdoors and surrounded by people.

Several vendors weaved through the aisles shouting about snacks and beverages for sale, and she waved one of them over. Three beers, please. She paid the vendor, handed each of her sisters a cup and kept one for herself.

A mixture of cheers and heckles emanated from the crowd as the visitor’s team ran onto the field. She took a sip of her beer and admired the broad-shouldered jocks, glad she chose to attend the game instead of spending the day hunched over a sewing machine. She knew that Ella was interested in one of the players but didn’t know which one, so she leaned toward her sister and asked, Which one is your boyfriend?

Ella bumped Jessi’s shoulder in return. He’s not my boyfriend. Not yet, anyway.

Jessi laughed softly and was about to say something, but the roar of the crowd interrupted her. The home team trotted onto the field to a welcoming reception of bouncing cheerleaders and shouts from loyal fans. This group of athletes overflowed with enthusiasm and raced down the field grunting and slapping each other’s shoulders as if they had already won the game.

Jessi didn’t care which team won or lost, until the game started. The hometown favorites clearly stood out as the better players, and she found herself silently rooting for them. The shouts of encouragement and foot stomping that they received during every play excited her, and she fed off the adrenaline of the crowd. Her heart started to beat faster as the player ran with the ball, and before she realized it, she was on her feet cheering along with more than half the people in the stands.

Sit down, Maggie scolded. Ella’s boyfriend is on the other team.

Sorry, Ella. Jessi smiled at her sister, still clapping. Your boyfriend’s team is losing. Big time. They weren’t just trailing behind, either. They were being slaughtered.

Ella rolled her eyes and shook her head, while Jessi and Maggie shared a laugh at giving their youngest sibling a hard time.

Jessi sat down and continued to watch the visiting team’s annihilation, thanks to one all-star player with the number nine on his back.  She watched Number 9 catch a pass that seem to come out of nowhere. He took off with the ball tucked under his arm and barreled through several players on the opposite team as he headed toward the goal line.  Two players rushed toward him at full speed, and Jessi was sure he was going to be crushed between them. Her heart was beating so fast that she felt the blood rushing through her chest. She watched, her hands covering her cheeks like the kid in Home Alone, fearing Number 9 was going to be pulverized between the two behemoths, but he dodged out of their way at the last second. They smashed into one another and landed on the turf in a heap of muscle while Number 9 continued to run. He eluded the opposing team with the quickness and agility of a cat. Oh my God! Jessi exclaimed, and shot to her feet. He’s going to make it! Gooooo! she shouted, waving her arm wildly in the air.

When Number 9 sailed across the goal line and scored a touchdown, winning the game, the crowd went nuts. Jessi literally jumped in the air and cheered along with them while her heart raced out of control. She watched Number 9 get swallowed up by his teammates and temporarily lost sight of him until he was lifted in the air on their shoulders.

That was incredible! She leaned down and touched Ella’s arm. Thank you for inviting me.

I’m glad you’re having a good time, Ella replied, laughing a little at Jessi’s over-the-top interest in the game.

I am. Jessi continued to watch the team celebrate on the field and remained standing long after everyone around her sat or started to leave the stands. Number 9 was receiving huge bear hugs and slaps on the back from his teammates as they credited him with the win. She wondered how he felt right now, being the recipient of so much praise and having so many people cheering for him at once.

His teammates disbursed and Number 9 was alone for the first time since the game ended. He took off his helmet and tugged at an elastic band at the base of his neck, freeing his hair and causing long blond locks to cascade past his shoulders and down his back. He turned toward the stands and raised his helmet in victory while he displayed a dazzling white smile.

Electric blue eyes pierced the football field and bore straight into Jessi. Her breath caught in her chest, and she became immobilized by his good looks, and the fact that they seemed to be staring directly at one another.

His golden hair was illuminated by the sun and disheveled in a sexy wild spray of tresses. He had a rugged jaw, offset by those gorgeous eyes that were as blue as the sky. His broad shoulders, accentuated by the hefty football gear, balanced his tall frame. A congratulatory pat on the back made him turn away, but Jessi was unable to avert her eyes. She focused on his strong upper back and tried to read the name across the top of his jersey above the number, but it was hidden by his long blond hair. The teammate slung his arm over Number 9’s shoulder, which pushed enough hair aside, so it enabled Jessi to read the name. Blade. She slowly sank into her seat, short of breath and legs wobbly.

Do you know him? Ella asked.

Jessi shook her head, still staring straight ahead and captivated by this football player named Blade.

I think he was looking straight at you, Maggie said.

Jessi cocked her head to the side and turned toward her sister. He was. Right? I thought I was imagining it, but it felt as if we locked eyes. It sounded absurd. Smoking hot Number 9 could have been looking at anyone. Or no one. But she hung onto the notion that, maybe, in the crowd full of people he noticed her. She turned her attention back to the field, but Blade was once again engulfed in the center of his teammates and trotting back to the locker rooms.

Disappointment made her frown. She would have loved another chance to catch his eye, but the opportunity was gone.

Maggie stood and brushed off the back of her jeans. I don’t know about you two, but I’m ready to go. Let’s go someplace and get something to eat. The three of them ended up at a neighborhood pub where they ate and talked for a couple of hours.

Jessi enjoyed the time spent with her sisters, but the moment she got home she felt guilty for neglecting her design and went straight to her workstation. The gown she had been working on hung on the dress form next to her sewing machine. It was well tailored, but it still needed embellishment in order to make it a stand-out.

A cabinet filled with tiny bins containing rhinestones, buttons, and a million other accessories, sat next to the dress form. She sifted through them, touching the shiny appliques with her fingertips, and listened to the ideas blossoming in her head.

Three hours later, she had transformed her ordinary black gown into something worthy of the red carpet. As she stood back and assessed her work, she wondered if it was too much. She hated that she always had to remind herself to rein in her creativity, but she often got criticized for going overboard and told to edit her work. The thought made her smile because instead of viewing the feedback with negativity, she decided that it meant the world wasn’t ready for her designs yet. She always imagined the day she’d explode on the fashion scene as the next sought-after designer and her line would be in high demand everywhere.

Exhaustion quickly caught up to her, and she stretched out the muscles in her neck. The messy floor, covered with snips of fabric and pieces of thread, caught her attention, but she was too tired to clean it up. She’d do it tomorrow after class. That was the benefit of having a small apartment—it was easy to clean. Her apartment may be tiny, but the rent was affordable for Bensonhurst, and she had the perfect alcove that served as her design studio which overlooked the golf course.

After a quick shower, she crawled into bed and gazed through her open bedroom door at the dress form in the other room with admiration. There was nothing more fulfilling than creating something beautiful from nothing. She loved when her vision came to life. After spending the day with her sisters, Jessi never thought she’d finish it tonight, but she did. A long sigh left her lungs, and she dozed off staring at the formal black gown with the jeweled neckline and hand-stitched pearls.

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Jessi’s beating heart woke her out of a sound sleep. She was flushed and overheated, covered in a thin layer of sweat and breathing heavily. Her tank top stuck to her chest while her lower half hummed. She lunged into a sitting position and brought her hands to her chest. The pulse in her neck beat so hard she could feel it under her fingertips. What the hell? At first, she thought it was a bad dream that left her in this frazzled state . . . until the dream came back to her. It wasn’t a nightmare at all. It was the exact opposite. It was the blond-haired, blue-eyed football player from Fordham that she had locked eyes with.

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The gown that Jessi submitted for her design class garnered the attention of her professor, and, along with two other remarkable garments from other students, remained on display in the workroom at FIT for a week. She had worked her butt off on that gown, so the recognition gave her a much-needed ego boost.

It had been a long week. Not only did Jessi attend school full time, but she also spent 25 hours a week sewing someone else’s designs at a studio where she worked as an intern. She felt drained of energy sometimes but always pushed herself, because she knew she had the drive to make it in the fashion industry. She only wished she had more free time.

Even though she basically sat behind her desk or a sewing machine all day, finding a seat on the downtown D train felt like heaven. She exhaled and tried to let go of the stress tightening the muscles in her shoulders, relieved to be heading back to Brooklyn. She imagined the day that she’d be working in her own studio and selling her designs on 5th Avenue, and a dreamy smile spread across her face.

The doors opened and a slew of passengers pushed their way into the train. Someone reached for the handrail above her head, and the stench of sweat quickly burst the happy bubble in her head. So much for daydreaming on mass transit.

She scrolled through her phone and saw she had an unread text message from one of her classmates. Marilyn was a talented designer, in her final year at FIT, and Jessi’s go-to girl for a good time. A text from her meant that there was something fun on the agenda.

MARILYN: Frat party at Gamma Gamma Zeta tonight! Be ready at 9!

There was always time for a party, and Jessi immediately perked up.

JESSI: Good! I need a night out. Rough week. Text you later.

By the time Jessi got to her apartment, and after walking six blocks from the train station, her feet hurt. Refusing to be one of those sneaker-wearing professionals who carried their shoes back and forth to work, she wore heels and paid the price. They were modest heels, though, nothing like the five-inch stilettos she planned on wearing tonight.

All of her exhaustion disappeared as she went through her closet and selected an outfit for the frat party. Only thirty-five minutes ago she had struggled to keep her eyes open on the train. Now, she was running on adrenaline and excited for the night ahead.

After a shower and a quick bite, she opted for an Uber instead of driving to the Gamma Gamma Zeta frat house. The party was in full swing when she arrived, evidenced by the amount of people on the front porch. Jessi checked her phone and saw a text message from Marilyn stating that her friend was already at the party and looking for her.

The sweet smell of pot hit Jessi as she walked toward the house. She had to pass through a group of guys that blocked the front door who eyed her with lecherous grins. One of them made a flirtatious comment. Another whistled. But she ignored them.

There you are! Marilyn looped her arm through Jessi’s as soon as she stepped through the front door and escorted her to a table full of alcohol.

Were you here long? Jessi asked, as she navigated through the room full of people, occasionally nodding at a familiar face.

About a half hour. I was early. I had a crazy day and just needed to get out and party.

Marilyn was drinking a mixed drink, but Jessi preferred beer and helped herself to the keg. I hear ya. I was all set to go home and crash, but the moment you mentioned a frat party, I got my second wind. She took a long gulp of her beer. What’d you do today?

I helped this rich couple on the Upper East Side style their 15-year-old for a school dance. It was a lot of fun, until all of her friends came over and I got derailed by six teenagers. Marilyn huffed. Were we that loud and annoying when we were 15? I couldn’t wait to get out of there.

Jessi laughed. I wish I had your problems. I constructed about 25 pencil skirts today. Just straight sewing. Seams. Hems. Zippers. I was losing my mind from the monotony. She wished she could score a cool gig as a stylist like Marilyn, but she didn’t have the contacts. Marilyn came from an affluent family in Los Angeles, whose reach stretched all the way across the country.

A guy appeared next to Jessi, swaying from too much alcohol. S’up? he asked, his eyes glazed. S’cuze me. I need a refill.

Jessi was amused by his slurred words and uneven gate and watched him.

He stared at her, smiling, instead of keeping an eye on the keg. His hand was unsteady, and beer spilled over the red plastic cup and onto the floor in intermittent splats, but he didn’t notice. 

Jessi laughed and took a step back so the beer didn’t stain her shoes. She had been saving up for her first pair of Christian Louboutin’s for a year. She didn’t care that they were ridiculously out of her price range. They looked fuckin’ awesome. But she probably shouldn’t have worn something so expensive to a wild party.

A small furor erupted when someone entered the house, and Jessi turned toward the entrance. A crowd of people surrounded the guy who caused the commotion, but Jessi couldn’t see more than the top of his blond head. As he continued to move through the room, an entourage followed him. Girls gazed at him with stars in their eyes, and guys patted him on the back as if he were a celebrity. It heightened Jessi’s curiosity, and she stood on her tiptoes as she weaved her head back and forth in order to get a better look at him. An opening presented itself, enabling her to get a glimpse of his face, and an involuntary gasp left her lips. Her hand flew to her mouth, and her heartrate quickened the moment she saw him. It was player number nine from the football game.

What’s wrong? Marilyn asked.

It’s him. Jessi motioned toward the blond hottie with her cup. I saw him at a football game last week.

Marilyn shifted to get a better look, and her eyes widened. I don’t know him, but he’s gorgeous. Did you talk to him?

No. But I’m about to. Jessi didn’t care that he had a half dozen girls in tow. She wasn’t about to let this gorgeous hunk of muscle escape for a second time. She filled an extra cup with beer from the keg and headed straight for him, ready for an introduction.

When she was within a few feet of him, he turned toward her as if sensing her presence. He looked past the girls and guys who were all speaking to him at the same time and stared straight at Jessi. As soon as his baby blues spotted her, his face lit up, and his smile took on new life.

His intense gaze made her stop dead. Unsure of what to say, she quickly offered him one of the red plastic cups. Hi. I’m Jessi.

He took the cup, but his eyes remained trained on hers. It’s you. He stepped out of the circle of people who surrounded him and closed the space between them so they could share an intimate conversation. You were at one of my games. I saw you. Standing. Watching me while everyone else was seated.

Jessi gulped down a surge of excitement and tried to act as if she weren’t about to burst. In the days