Starting From Here (Starting From #3) - Lane Hayes Page 0,1

hair fell across his forehead, giving him a boyish look. Total illusion. There was nothing remotely boyish about Tegan Monroe.

The guy was a six-foot-tall block of sheer muscle. No kidding, his muscles had muscles. Tegan had the physique of a football player, copious ink, and a scar on the right side of his jaw that gave him a badass vibe and made most people think twice before crossing him. He also had one of the best smiles I’d ever seen. Though, to be perfectly honest, he hadn’t smiled at me in a few years.

We hated each other. Well, he hated me, and I thought he was a pig-headed jerk for sure. It was easier to ignore him than to chance getting into a stupid fight or a lame staring match where he shot nasty looks that by all rights should have put a hole in my forehead. My bandmates could barely keep their curiosity to themselves, though I’d made it clear I wasn’t participating in water-cooler gossip. At least not the kind starring me.

I’d moved on. My future wasn’t interested in my past. That was my motto, and I planned on sticking to it. I had to admit, I thought it was completely unfair that my body still took perverse pleasure at the sight of Tegan’s perfect ass in those old Levi’s as he turned to take a seat at his drum kit. My dick actually twitched against my zipper.

Not to worry, folks. The flicker of surprise in his gaze quickly morphed into a menacing glare and bam! That was the end of Mr. Chubby.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he glowered.

I stuffed my hands into my back pockets and waltzed into the enemy’s lair as if I didn’t have a care in the world. Just to piss him off, I smiled too.

“Good morning,” I said cheerily. “I think you have one of our amps.”

“Why would we have your amp?”

“I don’t know, but we have one of yours. Maybe the cleaning staff mixed them up or something.”

Zero’s studio was the mirror image of ours. The only real difference was that their white walls were adorned with a funny collage of friend and family photos and some kid art courtesy of Oliver, our manager’s younger brother. I let my gaze linger on the drawing Ollie did of Justin’s French bulldog before meeting Tegan’s cranky stare with a bright grin.

Tegan set his drumsticks on his stool and took a cursory glance around the room. “I don’t see an extra amp.”

Thanks for checking, asshole. My smile dipped as I headed toward the two amps near the slew of guitars. I pointed at the one that didn’t have a huge Zero sticker on it.

“I bet that’s it. Let’s trade now and get it over with.” I grabbed the handle and dragged the black box toward the doorway.

“Whoa! Hold up. You can’t just take that.”

I frowned. “It’s mine.”

Tegan furrowed his brow as he closed the distance. “How do you know?”

“Yours has stickers for some reason. Who did that?”

“Me.”

I chuckled. “Right. I should have guessed.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

I paused for a second when I realized I’d accidentally waded into tricky waters. Was I supposed to answer him truthfully, give a trite reply, or tell him to fuck off? Ultimately, my weary brain made the choice for me. I hadn’t slept well in days. Mental hopscotch with a wily old opponent took brainpower I simply didn’t have at the moment.

“T, I’ve known you since before kindergarten, when you literally wrote your name on every fucking thing you owned. You even asked for a label-maker for Christmas one year. It looked like a glue gun, but Mr. Marston thought it was a BB gun, and you got sent to the principal’s office. You were fucking devastated. Do you want me to keep going?” I sighed.

Tegan narrowed his eyes. “Impressive. That was almost twenty-five years ago.”

“I know.” I looked away for a second. “Look, I’m not going to steal anything. I just want my amp back.”

“Hmph. It seems a little suspicious to catch you sneaking into our studio to—”

“For fuck’s sake! The door was open, asshole. This isn’t a big deal. Why are you making it into one?” I held up a hand. “Wait. Because you make everything into a big fucking deal.”

He gaped at me and just before his lips curled into an intimidating snarl, I could have sworn I saw a flash of desire in his eyes. Then again, it was gone so quickly, I