Lilac: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance

That could have gone better.

Despite the shitshow the meeting had turned into, I felt like I was walking on a cloud. I expected to walk through those doors with only a handful of empty promises. Instead, I was Bound’s new guitarist.

Bound.

Bound.

BOUND.

My arm throbbed where I’d pinched it the entire elevator ride down. I was expecting to wake up any moment now. I was trapped in an endless dream and wasn’t sure I wanted to leave. There was only one problem: America’s sweethearts turned out to be real douchebags.

I made it to my car parked in the building’s garage just as my phone vibrated, and a text appeared in a banner at the top of the screen.

Poison. 9 p.m. We need to talk.

—Oni

Groaning because this day was starting to feel like it would never end, I threw myself into my hooptie and headed straight home. Home was a cheap three-bedroom apartment in Mid-City, where I found my best friend and roommate sitting crossed-legged on our couch.

Griffin Sinclair reminded me of Nicola Peltz with her blonde hair, green eyes, and perpetual soul-searing gaze. Only with longer legs. Maeko, our other roommate and bestie, was nowhere to be found. Maeko had moved to Los Angeles with the dreams of becoming an actress, so I was hoping her absence meant she was at another audition. Unfortunately, with her Japanese-American heritage and the lack of diversity in Hollywood’s starring roles, she’d yet to land more than a small part, but she wasn’t giving up. Griffin and I wouldn’t let her.

“Back so soon?” Griff quipped. Her green gaze was assessing as she watched me instead of the show playing on TV. “Why am I not surprised?” She then wrinkled her button nose at my sister’s dress. It really was hideous. “What are you wearing?”

I paused, debating telling Griffin about my new gig before deciding against it—at least for now. Griffin, who worked part-time as a paralegal while studying law, was a bloodhound for secrets. It was nearly impossible to keep anything from her. However, the biggest reason was that my blooming music career rested on my surviving a world tour with three egomaniacs. Carl Cole’s words replayed in my head as if on cue.

“Learn the words, survive the tour, and then we’ll talk. In the meantime, sign this.”

The paper he’d shoved at me had been a short-term contract that lasted until the end of the tour. It basically ensured that I couldn’t quit for any reason without serious financial repercussions.

Translation: He’d sue the fuck out of me.

I still wondered how the agreement could be considered short-term since standard recording contracts only lasted a year. Even I knew that it was career suicide to sign with a label for longer than twelve months at a time. There could be differences in vision between the label and artist too vast to overcome, a lack of funding and influence causing stagnant careers, or corrupt labels who demanded too much and gave almost nothing in return.

“You’re not surprised because you know me well,” I answered my friend.

“That I do. So what happened with your folks?” she asked, referring to my impromptu trip home. It was maybe my third in the four years since I left home.

“Rosalie’s dating an atheist,” I blurted unceremoniously.

Griffin winced before shaking her head. “Poor baby sis.”

“Indeed.”

I shuffled into the living room barely large enough to fit our second-hand coffee table, armchair, and dilapidated couch. The furniture was a little masculine, but none of us minded since we were too poor to be picky, and we’d taken it off a neighbor’s hands for free. His asking price had been two hundred dollars, but Griff worked her magic. Men had a tough time saying no to her, which was ironic since they weren’t her type.

My bones ached from unknown exertion as I flopped next to Griffin on the couch. I then settled onto my side before laying my head in her lap. Staring at the TV but not watching whatever was playing, I replayed the meeting with Bound and Savant Records over and over in my head.

Bound’s reaction to me, a stranger, had been almost violent. I hadn’t done anything to earn it. My only crime was being fashionably late, but they seemed prepared to hate me either way. Curiosity and a little disappointment that my idols turned out to be jerks had me wondering why.

Feeling my head begin to ache, I decided I didn’t care. I had an agenda that was bigger than me, and three overgrown toddlers weren’t going to get in my way.

My mind was a whirlpool of jumbled thoughts and emotions, and any moment, I’d drown. Ever the mind reader, Griffin’s fingers began gliding through my hair, and it took no time at all before my eyes began to close.

“Wake me in a few hours,” I sleepily managed to get out. “I’m meeting someone tonight.”

I felt her fingers pause in my hair, but I was asleep before she could interrogate me.

A quarter past nine, I was rushing through Poison’s doors.

Since the night was young, it was easy to spot Oni sitting at a table furthest from the dance floor. She was sipping the bar’s most lethal drink with the look of someone who’d fucked up royally. It was a far cry from the confidence she’d displayed earlier, but I didn’t take it personally. Witnessing her uncertainty only assured me that I was doing the right thing.

Houston, Loren, and Jericho had been right.

It was their delivery that sucked.

I had no business breathing Bound’s air, much less sharing a stage. I could predict each minute change in Houston’s pitch, the pluck of Loren’s pick, and the pattern of Jericho’s strikes as if I’d choreographed them myself.

It. Wasn’t. Enough.

I didn’t know them. There was a reason they played so beautifully together. The answer was in the name they’d chosen. Houston, Loren, and Jericho were bound, which meant I was trespassing on destiny.

No wonder they hated me.

I powered ahead, pushing through the thin crowd. Spotting me before I could reach her, the hopelessness vanished from Oni’s eyes as she watched me closely. When I finally reached the table, my lips parted, but she quickly held up her hand.

I was silenced before I could even get a syllable out.

“Whatever sad spiel you’re about to give me to try to pull out of this deal, save it. You’re doing the tour.”

“This was a huge mistake,” I admitted anyway. There was no use pretending she hadn’t known exactly what I was thinking. She’d at least saved me from trying to find the right words.

“Probably,” Oni agreed with a shrug. “But it doesn’t matter now, so let me give you a warning that I hope you’ll heed.” She paused to make sure I was listening before continuing. “The last thing you want to do is bare your belly to those assholes. They won’t show you mercy.”

“Thanks.” I dragged myself onto the high stool before snagging her drink and taking a large gulp. I barely knew her, but since we were about to walk through hell holding hands, I figured swapping cooties was the least of our worries. “Speaking of warnings, I could have used one before walking into that room.”

“I wanted to see what you would do when your back was against the wall. Get used to it because what happened today was just the start, and when you’re on the road, there will be no one to play the mediator. I needed to know you could hold your own.”

“Sure.” I still wasn’t happy about being ambushed, but what could I do other than let it go? No one else was beating down my door to give me an opportunity like this. I wanted to make some noise, and now I had my chance. Touring with Bound would reach all corners of the world.

I could take that to the fucking bank.

“Now, for the reason I called you down here.”

“You mean scaring the shit out of me wasn’t the reason?”

“Not even close.”

“Fuck.”

She looked away, toying with a dark curl as she sunk deep in thought. I took the time to check out the band walking on stage now and realized I’d never heard them play before. I wondered if they knew who sat in the audience tonight. Oni was one of many A&R reps at Savant Records, but she was obviously willing to think outside the box, and what she managed to pull off this afternoon was huge. I’m not sure how many strings she pulled behind the scenes, but it seemed so effortless from where I sat. If I weren’t so desperate, I’d be suspicious, but I couldn’t afford to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Did I ever mention I was the one who discovered them?” she asked after several minutes had passed in silence.

I felt my brows dip as I turned away from the five-piece on stage. “Who?” Surely, she couldn’t mean—

“Bound.”

My eyebrows kissed my hairline. I swore I could feel the strands touching. “Really?”

“Try not to look so surprised,” she tossed back.

“Sorry, it’s just…I had no idea.” I would never have guessed, considering the words they exchanged at the meeting. “They don’t seem very grateful.”

Oni snorted before rolling her eyes. “They’re not. They hate me, themselves, and each other. In my case, the feeling is mutual.”

“But why? Without you—”

“Savant would have never found them,” she finished for me. “They were a lot like you. They weren’t looking for fame. Fame found them. Although they weren’t as hard to convince.”

Oni gave me a pointed look, a reminder of the months she spent wooing me with the promise of a record deal until one day, I simply gave in. I was fine letting her believe that since I preferred my cards close to my chest.

Clearing her throat, Oni looked away, and I had a feeling we’d finally arrived at the real reason we were meeting in secret. “There’s something I’d like you to do for me.”

I should have been ready to do anything for her. I should have been grateful, but the graveness in her tone kept me wary. “Okay…” I drew out instead.

Reaching over the round table, she grabbed my hand and squeezed. My spine was ramrod straight from the unexpected touch and the warmth that, until now, Oni hadn’t shown toward me…or anyone. Oni Sridhar was all business, all the time. “Find a way to keep them together.”

“Keep who together?” Her nostrils flared with impatience, and I realized I was starting to sound like a parrot who’d been crossbred with an owl.

“Bound.” Seeing the question in my eyes, she went on. “When I met them, they were finishing each other’s sentences, and now they can barely stand to be in the same room together.”

“They seemed fine to me,” I mumbled. I couldn’t forget how they had circled and preyed on me the moment I stepped into that room.

“Because you saw what they wanted you to see. The only time they’re united is when they’ve set their sights on the same game.”

“Meaning me.” She gave an apologetic nod in confirmation. Splendid. “So what am I supposed to do? Put an apple on my head so they hate each other a little less?”

“Nothing quite so dramatic,” she replied with a tip of her red-painted lips.

“Then what?”

“In short? Find what’s broken and fix it. If you can’t, at the very least, keep them from killing each other. I don’t care how as long as it gets you all home in one piece.”

“I’m confused,” I said as my gaze narrowed. “Am I playing for Bound or babysitting Bound?”

“You’re securing your future,” she vehemently shot back. “I know those assholes seemed like a unified front in there, but they’re one bad argument from breaking up, and they’ve all been best friends since their first boner.”

“How is that my problem?”

Sitting back in her seat, she studied me, searching for a weakness. Obviously, she found it because she finally answered, “No Bound, no deal.”

My eyes were mere slits now as I regarded the cutthroat businesswoman lurking underneath that angelic face. “I’m starting to see why they don’t like you.”

I was also getting that it was hard to rattle Oni Sridhar when she shrugged. “It’s this business. It brings out the worst in everyone.” She tipped a head full of dark curls toward me. “Including you.”

My stomach turned as cold dread replaced the warm blood in my veins. God, I hoped not. I’d seen me at my worst, and it wasn’t just ugly. It was catastrophic. The casualties were endless.

I found myself staring a little too closely at Oni’s lips as she bounced her head in time to the music, completely unaware of my focus or interest.

“Anything else?” I demanded curtly. I needed a distraction before I hit on the A&R rep. There was no reason for me to sleep my way to the top. I was already there, and I still didn’t understand how.

“In a few days, you should hear from a man named Xavier Gray.” I didn’t miss the way her lips flattened at the name. Another fan of hers, I supposed. “He’s Bound’s manager, and he won’t like this any more than they do. Luckily, he’s a professional, and he’s good at his job, so you shouldn’t have too much trouble from him.”

I felt my heart quicken. “Why wasn’t he there this afternoon? Couldn’t he have done something?”

“No,” she said as she stood from the stool. I guess our clandestine meeting was over. “And they blame me for that too.” She walked away without saying goodbye, and I watched her disappear before finally exhaling.

Fantastic.

It’s been two weeks since I became Bound’s guitarist and not a peep from Xavier or my new bandmates. I knew Oni had given them my contact information. I also knew they weren’t occupied with anything pressing. Just last night, a blog had reported spotting them walking inside a Las Vegas casino.

I felt like I was in high school again, except instead of waiting for one boy to call, I was waiting for three. Four if I counted the manager who’d despised and discarded me already. I wasn’t even afforded the pleasure of giving them a reason to hate me first.

Bummer.

Oni, on the other hand, didn’t seem surprised when she called to check on things. However, in typical Oni fashion, the conversation abruptly ended once I informed her that I hadn’t heard a peep. That was close to forty-eight hours ago, and now she’d disappeared too. I wasn’t sure how much of this was in her job description, but since she was the only one in my corner, I didn’t ask questions.

Pounding on my bedroom door jolted me to the here and now.

“Yo, Brax, let’s go!” Griff demanded. “We’re going to hit traffic.”

“It’s L.A.!” I shouted back even after glancing at the time on my phone and cursing. “There’s always traffic,” I muttered more to myself since she was already gone.

I stood from my bed and began stuffing last-minute shit into my rucksack. My sleeping bag took up most of the space, but my dad had shown me a few tricks since my sister and I spent our summers camping with the church growing up.

This weekend was the Indies in Indio Festival, and my name was on the lineup. I was glad the guys I usually played with talked me into it since I had spent the last two weeks of my spare time rehearsing rather than waiting by the phone.

I’d invited Oni, who only offered a maybe.

Now I was starting to think it would be best if she didn’t show. The crowd wouldn’t be more than I was used to, but somehow, I was more nervous than I’d ever been. What if I floundered tonight and ended up on the internet as a source of ridicule only to later be discovered as Bound’s newest member?

Holy fuck, I really knew how to stir a pot full of steaming shit, didn’t I?

Wearing only a thong, I quickly squeezed my ass into my tightest pair of blue jeans. I then paired it with a cropped black corset that pushed my tits up to my chin.

Perfect.

If only those assholes could see me now.

Bound’s first impression of me hadn’t been exactly accurate. They’d been too quick to judge me by my cover while ignoring the pages inside.

As I shoved my feet into a pair of thigh-high boots with fake crystals and silver spikes adorning the black straps running the entire length, I considered biting the bullet and calling them. I wasn’t a fan of the self-involved who assumed communication was only found from one end, so if the three of them couldn’t be mature about this, I would.

Perhaps it would be for the best.

Houston, Loren, and Jericho were undoubtedly expecting me to cower. If Oni was right and Bound was splintering, a new threat would force them together. I just wasn’t thrilled at the idea of turning myself into a target. It wasn’t quite what Oni had asked me to do, but I didn’t see any other way.

Carrying my ruck and guitar case into the living room, I found my backing band in the living room pregaming with my roommates. I’d met Liam, Mason, and Abe two years ago in a dive bar. Liam had hit on me first, followed by his brother, who somehow thought he had a better chance after I’d turned down his twin, who was identical in every way.

It wasn’t their fault they had no shot. The night we met, I was a skittish kitten still adjusting to my surroundings even though I’d been in L.A. for two years. Once upon a time, their blond hair, blue eyes, and the boy-next-door charm would have won me over. I turned them down because I knew what they were inviting into their bed while they had no clue.

Abe, their equally hot but too shy roommate, hadn’t bothered trying after watching his friends get shut down. Apparently, rejection had never happened to the Miller brothers before. I was grateful that at least one of the trio could take a hint since Liam and Mason, usually when alcohol was involved, hadn’t entirely given up on getting down.

They might not have been able to weaken my resolve, but they had convinced me to let them back me on stage since I was more adept at scoring gigs, and they needed the extra cash.

Tonight was one of those nights.

The guys were decent musicians with Liam on lead guitar and backup vocals, Abe on bass, and Mason on drums while I doubled up on vocals and rhythm. It’s just that their hearts belonged elsewhere. The twins were both studying to be doctors and Abe an engineer. Music was just their side bitch.

“You ready for this?” Liam greeted after pouring a shot and handing it to me. He studied me so intently that paranoia had me fearing he knew my secret. I hadn’t told anyone, not a single soul, that I was Bound’s new guitarist, so I knew it wasn’t possible. I doubted anyone would believe me even with my tour contract bearing Savant’s letterhead along with Houston’s angry scrawl, Loren’s practiced one, and Jericho’s lazy loops beneath my effeminate signature.

Stupidly, I’d stared at our names for hours that night, and it wasn’t awe over my fast road to stardom that made me do so. It was seeing my name mixed among theirs. The strangest part was how right it all seemed—like lost pieces connecting at last.

Nodding at Liam, I took the shot glass, tossed it back, and decided as liquid courage burned its way down my throat that Bound’s time was up. I’d give them until morning before I broke down the walls they’d built and stormed my way into their lives once again.