Reprise (Ruby Riot #3) - Lisa Swallow

REPRISE
LISA SWALLOW
CONTENTS
Copyright
About
Dedication
Definition
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Coming Soon
The Ruby Riot Series
The Blue Phoenix Series
Other Books by Lisa Swallow
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Copyright © 2016 Lisa Swallow
Cover designed by Najla Qamber Designs
Photography: K Keeton Designs
Models: Faith Danielle and Sager Dolson
Editing by Hot Tree Editing
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by
any electronic or mechanical means including information
storage and retrieval systems, without permission in
writing from the author. The only exception is by a
reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places,
and incidents either are products of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to
actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely
coincidental.
All rights reserved.
Reprise (Ruby Riot #3)
Drummer Nate Campbell is a 'Ruby Riot twin'
and that's all he wants anybody to know. For
Nate, girls are a dispensable distraction and the
rock star life suits his needs. Nobody will expect
him to hand over his heart if he pretends he
doesn't have a one.
Falling for Nate Campbell was the second
biggest mistake of Riley Sawyer's life. When the
PR girl worked with the band on a European tour,
she earned a reputation as an unapproachable
workaholic. One mistake with Nate ruined her
reputation, and Riley left vowing never to go
anywhere near a tour – or Nate – again.
Two years later, Riley is forced back into the
Ruby Riot world. A stolen car, a snowstorm, and
Nate's bloody-mindedness leave the pair
stranded together. Nate and Riley cross their thin
line between love and hate and discover a
connection they don’t want to leave behind when
the snow retreats.
Nate knows Riley’s the girl for him but doesn't
want to risk handing her the heart he hides. Riley
wants to leave behind her secrets to move on and
find love. The problem is, she wants Nate and
doesn’t think he can ever be hers – or anybody’s.
DEDICATION
For those at THC who left me alone to write,
thank you.
And sorry about the groups.
reprise |rɪˈpriːz|
noun
a repeated passage in music.
• a repetition or further performance of
something: a stale reprise of past polemic.
verb [ with obj. ]
repeat (a piece of music or a performance). he
reprises his role as the vigilante architect.
I
R
1
ILEY
don’t spend time around Ruby Riot anymore.
Ever. Sarah has the pleasure of touring
Europe with the band this winter, because there's
no way in hell I'll travel with that bunch of
narcissists again. Or so I thought until today, when
my supposedly reliable account manager walked
out two dates before the end of the tour — no
explanation. Judging by the chaos Sarah left
behind, she hasn’t been doing her job properly for
weeks.
This leaves me to deal with all the crap hitting
the fan, and I’m forced to head up to Newcastle to
take over publicity management for the last two
shows. I don’t know what pisses me off the most
— spending time away from London, or the famous
Ruby Riot attitude I’ll face when I get there.
Especially from Nate. After two years of avoiding
the band, I’m thrown in the deep end and I’m
determined to stay afloat.
Traffic clogs the motorways as I head North,
and I swear as another idiot ignores the foggy
traffic conditions and swerves across two lanes.
By the time I arrive at the hotel, I'm two hours late
due to the weather, and my nerves are frazzled.
Ruby Riot plays their first of two dates at the
Arena this evening; they won't be back until late,
and I'm too tired to deal with anything tonight. The
crew has muddled through without publicity
management for a couple of days; a few more
hours with the junior PR girl won't make a
difference.
Beneath my decision to avoid the band tonight
lies the real reason. When I first see Nate again, I
need to be in a coping mood, and he needs to be
sober.
As if that’s likely to ever happen.
Nate Campbell. Ruby Riot drummer and
asshole of the decade. I toured with Ruby Riot
when they supported Blue Phoenix two years ago
and tangled myself with Nate. Not cool. Totally
unprofessional behaviour for a PR girl trying to
make a name for herself. I made a name all right
just not the sort I wanted. When you’re spotted
leaving the bathrooms with a rock star adjusting
his clothes, people jump to the obvious conclusion.
Me? No. I did not have sex with the guy, but I
almost did.
And when I turned him down? Within an hour
of telling me how I meant more to him than other
girls, Nate found a new one; one who’d fall for his
bullshit.
I refused to speak to him for a week; the hurt
and anger eating away at any feelings I had for him.
I told him I couldn’t respect a guy who treated
women like shit and he shrugged it off with a
‘whatever’ attitude. I don’t even think he paid
proper attention to what I was saying.
The memories I’ve kept dampened down
seethe and I mutter under my breath the choice
words I keep for Nate.
Everybody who was on the tour thinks the
situation is cut and dry: dumb PR girl screws rock
star who rejects her and she reacts badly. The jerk
never put people straight about the non-sex; too big
a dent to his ego, I guess. If I’d made a fuss about
denying we had sex, I’m sure some people
would’ve taken it as extra evidence that I in fact
did.
The only words we’ve exchanged since that
night in Paris, in the bathrooms at Hard Rock Café,
have been nasty and hurtful. The strength of our
hostility is above and beyond how normal people
would behave after a failed hook-up. But the
situation was more than that. We were more than
that — or Nate fooled me into thinking I was and
pulled the rug away until I landed heavily on my
ass.
If I’d allowed myself to see what a spoiled,
selfish asshole he was from day one this would
never have happened. This was a game to him. I
was a joke. Our friendly relationship descended
into outright nastiness and, after a couple of weeks,
I left. I refuse to work with people who treat me
like crap.
Now, I’m able to step back into the Ruby Riot
world and do my job; I don't care what Nate thinks.
In two days time I can walk away, and hope it’s
another two years until we’re forced to spend
anytime near each other.
Does Nate know yet? I bet he’s as thrilled at
the prospect as I am.
I shake away my brooding on Nate and my
situation, and reach for my phone. There’s another
person who hates me being in Newcastle as much
as I do. Josh. Mum agreed to stay and look after my
son at short notice, but she always has.
I said goodbye to Josh this morning before he
headed to school; my heart aching at the hurt on his
face. In Josh’s five years, I’ve left him too many
times while I worked away. Blinkered by my need
to succeed and determined to make the best life I
could, I’ve made mistakes. Last time this
happened, I promised him I wouldn’t stay away for
more than a night. I’ve broken that promise again.
F
R
2
ILEY
ollowing a bad night in an uncomfortable
hotel bed, I’m wake at 6 a.m. exhausted. It
doesn’t help that the moment I woke up my stomach
churned at the thought of meeting Nate again.
Despite my bravado, I’m worried he’ll attempt to
humiliate me again.
The anxiety doesn’t leave as I stand in front of
the mirror and check my clothes. I chose to bring
my newest work clothes: a tailored, dove-grey
dress, knee length, and pulled in at the waist, with
a matching short jacket. I paint away the dark
circles beneath my brown eyes and set about
highlighting and blending my make–up. Today I
look my best, no hint of anything but Riley Sawyer,
SMC PR Account Manager. Poised, confident, and
professional to a fault. Not the girl who fell for
Nate’s crap and ended up with her heart a mess.
I've been on the edge of Ruby Riot's world
since the European tour and, since that disaster,
I’ve avoided them as much as possible. I work on
their account still but at a safe distance. I ensure I
have other client meetings out of the office on the
rare occasions the band visit. This has been
commented on, but I don’t care. Isn’t part of being
a manager passing responsibilities onto junior
staff?
The only time I’ve seen Nate since the tour was
a year ago, when the band was called in to run
through a photo-shoot they’d taken part in.
Nate didn’t see me that day, but his appearance
arrested me and a wave of confused emotions
crashed against my walls. I hated him. I wanted
him, but I hated him. His swagger as he passed
along the hallway near the kitchen I hid in was
greater than last time; his increased fame apparent
in his stance. He wore new tattoos on his arm, his
powerful shoulders visible beneath his tight tee. I
stepped out of sight as he passed the door,
glimpsing his profile. Eyebrow still pierced,
cheekbones further defined by his sullen look many
mistake for smoulder.
That was a year ago; a fleeting glimpse and
enough to pull Nate back into my dreams for a few
days.
Today, I’ll look him in the eyes for the first
time since the Blue Phoenix tour and ensure mine
are as unreadable as they were the day we walked
away from each other.
I meet with Melissa, the merchandise
coordinator, who stepped in until I could travel up
here. I asked her to liaise with the list of people I
gave her.
She didn't, leaving me to straighten out
absolutely everything Sarah left behind.
Out of ten, my stress levels immediately skip
from one to five.
Then I discover the film crew never showed
last night and the recording for the concert DVD
didn't happen. My stress levels climb close to ten
before the morning has started properly — not
what I need.
Ah, the joys of touring. When I worked on the
Blue Phoenix Euro tour, my manager Tina's
constant dramas annoyed me. After less than a day
here as manager myself, I understand why. Aside
from Melissa, I’ve taken part in one meeting with
lead singer, Ruby, and guitarist Jax, and it's
apparent their cooperation skills haven't improved.
The Campbell twins weren't at that meeting,
and I've heard their attitude is unchanged too. After
that eventful tour, I backed off any possibility of
spending time on the road with any band again. I'm
not staying in this bloody hotel a minute longer than
I need to.
Deep breath. Find a coffee. A good, strong
coffee. I'm assured the hotel barista makes a good
mochaccino, but Melissa's definition of good
coffee is lower than mine. Still, a decent slice of
cake will help sweeten the blow if the coffee is
bad, and there's an impressive selection.
I sit in the hotel café, practicing my mind-
calming skills. I know I stress too much, and that I
take on more than I can handle, but this is my life
right now. I can't imagine stopping. In the last three
years, I've travelled overseas on holiday once; any
time off I allow myself is spent at my home in
Barnet.
So yeah, I know my uptight reputation and I
own it. Arms’ length is as close as I want people.
Short of time, I devour the chocolate cake,
happy the coffee is half-decent. A text arrives,
asking why I'm late, and I wipe my fingers before
answering.
Each minute that passes, I'm putting off the
inevitable.
And as I head towards the lobby, the inevitable
appears.
I didn't mean to but, unprepared, I stop in my
tracks. Nate Campbell strides across the tiled floor
in my direction. Dressed in dark denim and
Converse, greying T-shirt stretched across his
chest, he hasn't changed. The twins are different
these days; bass player Will wears his hair longer
so there's no doubt this twin with short, spiked hair
is Nate.
I'm convinced Nate's about to blank me and
walk past but he stops too. His green eyes fix on
mine with disinterest. I'm wrong; he has changed.
His eyes are creased by tiredness, his skin paler,
but this doesn't detract from the deceptive
attractiveness of his perfect features. I cannot
believe I kissed that mouth; allowed those hands
on my body. But there's nothing attractive behind
his lucky genetics, unless Nate's changed on the
inside too. From what I've heard, he hasn't.
“Riley,” he says in greeting.
“Hello, Nate.”
“I heard you were coming. How long you
staying?”
“A couple of days.”
“Not long, then.”
“Too long.”
Nate stares at my mouth, then flicks his gaze
back to my eyes. His mouth tips at one corner and I
hold my breath. It may be two years since, but I've
seen that look on Nate's face before. Amusement.
“You haven't changed,” he says.
“Neither have you, much.”
“Yeah?”
I wave a hand at him. “You look the same.”
“That isn't what I meant. Your attitude.” Nate
crosses his arms. “But yeah, you're skinnier and
your hair's blonder. I preferred it brown.”
I bristle at the fact he checked me out. “Your
attitude remains the same too, then.”
I swore I'd avoid this, but already the
animosity slips in.
“Still get your knickers in a twist over
everything?”
“What?”
“Just a question. I heard you lost your shit with
Melissa a couple of hours ago.” He smirks.
“Smiley Riley's back in town.”
“Jesus, Nate. Two minutes and you've already
started this. Don't you think we should forget what
happened and be professional?”
Two years.
Two years to say the words that needed saying
back then. How we should've left things.
Professional.
“About what happened? You still dwelling on
that?” Nate shakes his head. “Ancient history,
Riley.”
“Okay.” I put my phone in my bag. “Call this
the line in the sand. I'll ignore what happened in
the past if you do. A couple of days here and I'm
gone, and we don’t have to see each other again.
We can be civil for that long.”
Nate rubs his index finger along his lips,
staring at my mouth again. “How about we just
keep out of each other's way?”
“Sounds like a great idea.”
“If you can, of course.”
I laugh, a short derisive sound. “Seriously?”
Nate steps closer and that tiny change in
proximity floods back the frustrating physical
effect the man I hate has on me. I tuck my hands
beneath my arms, goose bumps rising along my
neck. Has the absence made this worse?
Sometimes I have stupid dreams about Nate that
involve far too much intimacy and wake up
disgusted with myself. Why the hell can't I control
my subconscious?
Nate raises a hand to my face and I'm too
stunned to react before he touches the corner of my
mouth. “Riley,” he whispers, moving his face
closer to mine. “There's something you need to
know.”
I blink as the sensation of his fingertip sends a
tiny shock across my mouth and I part my lips.
“What?”
Instead of darkened eyes to match my thumping
heart, the amusement remains on his face. Nate
holds his index finger up. “You have chocolate
around your mouth.”
I step back and narrow my eyes at him.
He grins and wipes his hand on his jeans.
“Gotcha.”
“Asshole!”
“You're not over me, are you?”
Before I get a chance to tell Nate exactly what I
think of him, he moves past me. “Two years,
Riley!” Nate calls as he walks away. “Get a grip!”
I glance around, relieved nobody saw our
encounter, then rush to the nearest ladies’ room.
Fury is replaced by horror. Chocolate is smeared
around the edges of my mouth, in a way any five-
year-old would be proud of. My professional
image ruined by a slice of bloody cake. With
shaking hands, I wipe the mess away with a paper
towel.
Damn you, Nate Campbell.
I
N
3
ATE
don't know what she expects of me, but she
should know I don't have anything to give her
outside of the bedroom.
She? Sophia Lambert, model, face of some
expensive make-up brand and perfume. Which? No
idea. I've never paid attention to what she does.
Great catch, but I'm already thinking of throwing
her back in the water. We've been together a month,
Sophia joined us on tour when we were in Italy.
Sweet girl, starves herself, and spends an
inordinate amount of time in front of the mirror but
looks fucking hot naked.
Sophia's the kind of girl guys fall over
themselves for and she fell for me. Man, Sophia's a
teen fantasy come true. But as reality slips in, the
fallout is inevitable. Girls always want what I
don't have to give — me.
The girl is too passive for me both in and out
of bed. I'm half-frightened of hurting her, and know
I will. Not physically, but because she's too
attached. Sophia's always by my side if we're out
together, and now she's dropping hints about being
exclusive.
Hell, no.
I'm headed back to Oxford when the tour ends,
and there's no way Sophia's coming with me. When
the tour's over, me and her will be too.
Funny how my reputation is a magnet for girls
like her, as if they think their love will transform
me into a sweet, sensitive guy. My brother, Will,
met a girl who brought out the best in him; I guess
some chicks think as his twin, I need the same.
Though I'd say, Fleur brought out the worst in him,
love-struck idiot. I'm happy on my own, doing my
own thing and not constrained by somebody else’s
expectations, especially not a girl’s.
My mood dropped when I met Riley bloody
Sawyer today. I stripped away her attempt to be
superior, but her arrival pisses me off. The last
tour we met on, the girl rejected me then turned
into a complete bitch. I refused to put up with
Riley’s shit back then and gave as good as I got
from her. I never promised her anything, so why the
overreaction when I moved on to other girls? Just
because we had a couple of low-profile dates
before everything went south doesn’t mean I was
hers. Hell, the girl wouldn’t even have sex with
me, so why would I hang around?
Everybody watched the fighting between us,
even though we tried to keep a low profile. We
turned into a joke and I did everything I could to
make Riley stay away from me. Then she left the
tour and life was easier without her around.
Will teased the hell out of me about Riley
appearing again, and I bit back the desire to tell
him to shut the fuck up. All that would do is
confirm her being here bothers me. Why? I’ve
avoided Riley this long, and the person created in
my mind is a thousand times worse than she
probably is. As is my aversion to her. Oh yeah, we
have a truckload of unfinished business I have no
interest in dealing with. She can stay the hell away
from me.
I lie back on the bed, half-watching a music
channel as Sophia showers. The water splashes
and I toy with the idea of joining her but I can't be
bothered getting wet. Later. I shift, the thought of
her soaped body waking up my dick. Maybe when
she gets out of the shower she can sort that out.
One thing in her favour, she gives good head and
pretty much anytime I ask her to.
Yep, this girl's every man's fantasy.
Should I keep this semi-relationship going
longer than the tour?
Sophia appears, white towel wrapped around
her body, brown hair combed away from her
perfectly symmetrical face seen in magazines
across the world.
“You okay, baby?” she asks.
I prop myself up on my elbows and she crosses
to the bed. Pushing her damp hair to one side, I
kiss her neck. “I'm good.”
“What time are we meeting everybody?”
“Couple of hours. Good thing because I know
how long it takes you to get ready.” I slap Sophia's
ass and she giggles as the towel slips.
My hardening dick in my briefs catches her
eye. “Nate Campbell, what have you been thinking
about?” She turns her head to the TV. “Have you
been watching porn again?”
“Just imagining you in the shower, sweetheart.”
I drag her towards me, and as she trips I pull her
towel away.
She places a hand on my naked chest. “You
should've joined me.” Sophia's eyes gleam as her
slender fingers slide into the front of my briefs.
“Too tired.” I lie back and stretch my hands
above my head.
N
R
“Let me take care of that for you,” she
murmurs.
See? I don't even need to ask.
But why the hell does Riley's face appear in
...