Rock Chick Revenge (Rock Chick, #5)
Kristen Ashley
Dedication
This book is dedicated to Gib Moutaw,
who’s cooler than Lee, Eddie, Hank, Vance, Luke, Mace and Hector all put together.
Keep whistlin’ in the dark, my brother.
Acknowledgment
Many, many thanks to Kelly Brown, the bestest best friend a girl could have and the best editor anyone could have. Thank you, chickie, for being along for the Rock Chick Ride!
*****
Chapter One
Bad Ava, Good Ava
I sat in my hunter green Range Rover, hands resting on my steering wheel, forehead resting on my hands, wondering what in the hell I was doing. Not only that I was parked on 15th Street outside the Nightingale Investigations offices, where Luke worked, but any of it, all of it, the whole shebang.
Do it, do it, you know you want to do it. Teeny, tiny Bad Ava, wearing a lacy red teddy, red stockings, spike-heeled, patent-leather red pumps and devil’s ears, sat on my right shoulder and whispered in my ear.
Don’t do it, go home, do yoga, light candles, meditate. Teeny, tiny Good Ava, wearing a white satin teddy edged in soft, fluffy feathers, gold high-heeled sandals with straps that crisscrossed up her calves and sporting a glittery gold halo, sat on my left shoulder and whispered in my ear.
“I’m going nuts,” me, the real Ava, said out loud.
You aren’t nuts. You want to see him. You’ve wanted to see him for four years. Girl, you are shit-hot now. Let him get a load of you! Bad Ava reminded me.
This was true (not the shit-hot part, the other parts).
Go home, call Sissy and tell her you can’t do it. Then call Luke and ask him over for dinner like a normal person. Don’t do this. Don’t! Good Ava said.
Argh!
Do it, go in there, suck him in, chew him up, spit him out. Men stink! Bad Ava encouraged.
Luke doesn’t stink. We like Luke, Good Ava protested, leaning around my neck to glare at Bad Ava.
Bad Ava gave Good Ava the finger. Good Ava poked her tongue out at Bad Ava.
I ignored them.
Men did stink; this was true. Men were scum. All of them. Luke too.
Probably.
I had known Luke Stark since he moved in across the street when I was eight years old and he was twelve. He was the most gorgeous boy I had ever seen in my little girl life and, when I saw him at his Dad’s funeral five years ago, I realized he had turned into the most gorgeous man.
Men stunk, on the whole, but Luke had always been ultra nice to me. But then, as a kid, I was fat, four-eyed and had mousy brown hair. And when I saw him at the funeral, I was still fat (more so), four-eyed and had mousy brown hair. So, I figured all that time he probably felt sorry for me.
Now, I was seventy-five pounds lighter, wearing contacts and had my hair streaked blonde (a partial streak just the top and sides, the bottom back I left alone and for some bizarre reason, against the blonde, it had turned a burnished chestnut color that was the same color as both my glamorous sisters’ hair; the hair I had always wanted all my life, even prayed for but never had, until now).
Last time I saw Luke he was wearing all black: black suit, black shirt, black tie. It was a funeral but Luke had always been partial to black, and I was glad because he looked good in it, even when he was a teenager he usually wore tight, black t-shirts, black motorcycle boots and jeans. I noted this like I noted everything about Luke. He had black hair and on first glance, black eyes though, his eyes were really a dark, dark indigo and totally yum. At the funeral, I noticed he had grown a beard: not full and thick, but short and trimmed and it looked great on him.
I nearly melted into a puddle when his eyes moved through the graveside crowd, stopped on me, got soft and one side of his mouth went up in one of his half-grins that made him look so yumalicious you wanted to pounce on him. Instead of shoving the mourners aside and pouncing (which would have been highly inappropriate), I just gave him what I hoped was a jaunty wink and a stupid half-wave. The grin went full-fledged (guess the jaunty wink worked, but then again my stupid, dorky behavior always seemed to amuse Luke) and he turned away.
That was the very day I decided to turn my life around and that was the day I turned my life on its fucking head.
I rued that day.
I never thought I would rue anything but I rued that day for certain.
However, now I needed Luke.