See Through
See Through
by Brittany Taylor
Genre: Rockstar Romance
Fame.
I didn't ask for it and I didn't want it. After nearly two years in the spotlight, I've learned that fame has a way of changing how the world sees you.
Somehow, my reputation had been tarnished and my manager was convinced a journalist was what I needed to show the world who I truly was.
But just like fame, I didn't ask for my story to be told. My secrets were secrets for a reason. Not even a journalist could dig deep enough to expose what I've fought so hard to protect.
Only this journalist isn't a stranger. She's the one woman I vowed to never see again. She's the one woman who saw me for who I really am.
And damn, if karma didn't have one twisted sense of humor.
Reviews:
"Brittany Taylor gives us an unforgettable rockstar romance with Lane and Spencer." It.s Gotta Be The Books Book Blog
"My favorite book by Brittany Taylor to date." Ashley Munoz, Author
"I loooooove rockstar romances! See Through was everything a rockstar romance should be. Spencer is the hot, tattooed rocker with the smooth as velvet voice and the poetic lyrics." A.BookNerd.Bookseller&Bibliophile.Blog
"This book is OFF THE CHARTS GOOD! Literally whizzed right through the chapters!" Goodreads Reviewer
"I've read many rockstar romances but this one definitely takes it beyond just the rockstar himself..." Goodreads Reviewer
“How much do I have to pay you to not speak a word of this?” he asks.
“Wh—” The word lodges in my throat, my chest suddenly feeling as if I haven’t taken a breath in what feels like hours. I shake my head and blink several times, not understanding his question. “What?”
“Come on.” He rolls his eyes and glances at his phone, turning it over and inspecting it. With half-closed eyes, he shoves it back into his pocket when he sees it isn’t damaged. “I know you took a picture and I know you’re ready to run to the nearest news station or tabloid you can find.” He straightens his back, sliding his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, and stares into my eyes. “Like I said, how much do I need to pay you to keep this quiet?”
Is this some kind of joke? I look around the hallway, glancing over my shoulder for anyone who might be on this floor with us. No one. Nothing.
This has to be a prank or something. After the day I’ve had, I don’t necessarily trust my surroundings or the situations I seem to be putting myself in.
“I’m sorry.” I stare back at him, my confusion written all over my face. “I don’t quite know what you mean. Why would I take a picture of you? I don’t even know you.”
His eyebrows slowly unknit, resting back in their natural place on his gorgeous, sculpted face. His eyes soften once again, and this time they’re no longer begging. They’re more relieved, if anything. His ocean eyes inject me with an electricity I can’t quite figure out. They’re filled with a sweetness yet laced with poison, a silent poison…the kind that sneaks up on you when you least expect it and then the next thing you know, you’re done for.
The corner of his mouth curls into a smirk and he releases a small breath of air. The smirk doesn’t fade as his eyes land on the bottle still clutched in my hand. My grip tightens around the neck, suddenly feeling the need to be protective over my only source of escape from the sad, shitty excuse for a day I’ve had.
His hand reaches out and his fingers graze mine. Don’t ask me why, but I let him continue. I let him take my wine. No, I let him steal my wine.
Once he has full possession of my bottle of merlot, he holds it between us, his eyes flitting between me and the bottle. His expression transforms into a full-on smile. “Well,” he practically sings, “it’s a good thing you got the kind that doesn’t need a corkscrew.”
My jaw drops open as I watch him grip the cap of the bottle and twist it open in one move. The sound of the seal cracking and breaking causes my stomach to flutter. I don’t know who this man is or what his name is, but I’m completely caught up in his spell.
Maybe it isn’t quite his spell. Maybe it’s the confidence he carries with him as he lifts the open bottle of wine and presses it to his smooth, completely kissable lips. Whatever it is that has me completely entranced, I know it’s bad news. I’m sure Tori could testify to that.
“Wh—” The word lodges in my throat, my chest suddenly feeling as if I haven’t taken a breath in what feels like hours. I shake my head and blink several times, not understanding his question. “What?”
“Come on.” He rolls his eyes and glances at his phone, turning it over and inspecting it. With half-closed eyes, he shoves it back into his pocket when he sees it isn’t damaged. “I know you took a picture and I know you’re ready to run to the nearest news station or tabloid you can find.” He straightens his back, sliding his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, and stares into my eyes. “Like I said, how much do I need to pay you to keep this quiet?”
Is this some kind of joke? I look around the hallway, glancing over my shoulder for anyone who might be on this floor with us. No one. Nothing.
This has to be a prank or something. After the day I’ve had, I don’t necessarily trust my surroundings or the situations I seem to be putting myself in.
“I’m sorry.” I stare back at him, my confusion written all over my face. “I don’t quite know what you mean. Why would I take a picture of you? I don’t even know you.”
His eyebrows slowly unknit, resting back in their natural place on his gorgeous, sculpted face. His eyes soften once again, and this time they’re no longer begging. They’re more relieved, if anything. His ocean eyes inject me with an electricity I can’t quite figure out. They’re filled with a sweetness yet laced with poison, a silent poison…the kind that sneaks up on you when you least expect it and then the next thing you know, you’re done for.
The corner of his mouth curls into a smirk and he releases a small breath of air. The smirk doesn’t fade as his eyes land on the bottle still clutched in my hand. My grip tightens around the neck, suddenly feeling the need to be protective over my only source of escape from the sad, shitty excuse for a day I’ve had.
His hand reaches out and his fingers graze mine. Don’t ask me why, but I let him continue. I let him take my wine. No, I let him steal my wine.
Once he has full possession of my bottle of merlot, he holds it between us, his eyes flitting between me and the bottle. His expression transforms into a full-on smile. “Well,” he practically sings, “it’s a good thing you got the kind that doesn’t need a corkscrew.”
My jaw drops open as I watch him grip the cap of the bottle and twist it open in one move. The sound of the seal cracking and breaking causes my stomach to flutter. I don’t know who this man is or what his name is, but I’m completely caught up in his spell.
Maybe it isn’t quite his spell. Maybe it’s the confidence he carries with him as he lifts the open bottle of wine and presses it to his smooth, completely kissable lips. Whatever it is that has me completely entranced, I know it’s bad news. I’m sure Tori could testify to that.
The silence in the room is broken up by the quiet humming of a vibration. He ignores it, his eyes staring into mine. He takes another drink of his beer, and it reminds me of last night when we were standing in the hotel hallway.
It’s obvious he has a million thoughts running through his mind, and I push down the urge to ask him what they are. Ever since I stepped into this room, it’s been overwhelming, to say the least. Even if I don’t know what Spencer is feeling, I have to believe at some level, he’s feeling overwhelmed too. Not only is he about to perform his first headlining show of a national tour, he just found out his one-night stand is the journalist assigned to dig up the details of his life.
At first, I wasn’t sure I was hearing the sound correctly, but when the vibrating tone goes off a second time, I recognize it as his phone.
There could be a number of reasons for the vibration.
Social media notification? Maybe. An email? Possibly. Another woman inviting Spencer to her hotel room? A definite possibility.
Although I didn’t make any assumptions last night, I try to keep an open mind. There was something genuine hidden behind Spencer’s eyes. There was a truth woven into that sultry smooth voice of his and a sliver of vulnerability in his eyes.
But the smarter part of my brain overpowers those possibilities, telling me to at least consider that it could be something different than what Spencer told me, that the cheap tabloid may be right. After all, he is a single, deliciously handsome rock star. I would be naïve to think otherwise.
“Okay,” I say with resigned sigh. “So, about last night with Tori…tell me what really happened.”
Spencer’s body instantly turns rigid and stiff. His face falls flat and his eyes cloud over. Finishing off his bottle of beer, he tosses it into the trash can.
I hold my breath, unsure of what to do. Did what I say really get that far under his skin? I’m not sure if I’ve offended him or if I caught him in his lie, hitting the nail on the head, so to speak. Either way, I’m not liking the way his stare twists my stomach into knots.
Without a word, he silently walks over to the couch, picking up his jacket. He quietly slides it on, his strong arms filling the jet-black sleeves. He’s the perfect combination of dark and light. His clothes are a mixture of light grays and blacks. Even his shoes are black. “Here’s the deal, Lane. I get that Daphne hired you to clean up my image or whatever it is your mission is here with me, but let’s get one thing straight.” He pauses, pressing those beautiful lips into a flat line, inhaling a hot breath through his nose. The light that once sparked in his eyes has now diminished. His face is flat and vacant, his mouth set straight. “I didn’t ask for you to be here, so do whatever it is you need to do to get whatever story you feel you need. Just stay out of my way.” Picking up his guitar, he turns around, crossing the room to leave. Watching him, I think about how he’s not wearing a single thing in another color, or even white. Pausing in front of the door, he places his hand on the doorknob then turns it. “Enjoy the show.”
My body jolts at the sound of the slamming door as Spencer leaves me standing alone in the green room that really isn’t green.
I guess not everything is black and white.
It’s obvious he has a million thoughts running through his mind, and I push down the urge to ask him what they are. Ever since I stepped into this room, it’s been overwhelming, to say the least. Even if I don’t know what Spencer is feeling, I have to believe at some level, he’s feeling overwhelmed too. Not only is he about to perform his first headlining show of a national tour, he just found out his one-night stand is the journalist assigned to dig up the details of his life.
At first, I wasn’t sure I was hearing the sound correctly, but when the vibrating tone goes off a second time, I recognize it as his phone.
There could be a number of reasons for the vibration.
Social media notification? Maybe. An email? Possibly. Another woman inviting Spencer to her hotel room? A definite possibility.
Although I didn’t make any assumptions last night, I try to keep an open mind. There was something genuine hidden behind Spencer’s eyes. There was a truth woven into that sultry smooth voice of his and a sliver of vulnerability in his eyes.
But the smarter part of my brain overpowers those possibilities, telling me to at least consider that it could be something different than what Spencer told me, that the cheap tabloid may be right. After all, he is a single, deliciously handsome rock star. I would be naïve to think otherwise.
“Okay,” I say with resigned sigh. “So, about last night with Tori…tell me what really happened.”
Spencer’s body instantly turns rigid and stiff. His face falls flat and his eyes cloud over. Finishing off his bottle of beer, he tosses it into the trash can.
I hold my breath, unsure of what to do. Did what I say really get that far under his skin? I’m not sure if I’ve offended him or if I caught him in his lie, hitting the nail on the head, so to speak. Either way, I’m not liking the way his stare twists my stomach into knots.
Without a word, he silently walks over to the couch, picking up his jacket. He quietly slides it on, his strong arms filling the jet-black sleeves. He’s the perfect combination of dark and light. His clothes are a mixture of light grays and blacks. Even his shoes are black. “Here’s the deal, Lane. I get that Daphne hired you to clean up my image or whatever it is your mission is here with me, but let’s get one thing straight.” He pauses, pressing those beautiful lips into a flat line, inhaling a hot breath through his nose. The light that once sparked in his eyes has now diminished. His face is flat and vacant, his mouth set straight. “I didn’t ask for you to be here, so do whatever it is you need to do to get whatever story you feel you need. Just stay out of my way.” Picking up his guitar, he turns around, crossing the room to leave. Watching him, I think about how he’s not wearing a single thing in another color, or even white. Pausing in front of the door, he places his hand on the doorknob then turns it. “Enjoy the show.”
My body jolts at the sound of the slamming door as Spencer leaves me standing alone in the green room that really isn’t green.
I guess not everything is black and white.
Brittany Taylor grew up all over the world including places such as California, England and Texas. Today she resides in Connecticut with her husband, son and two cats. She loves reading, but loves writing even more. Her favorite things in life are her family, binge watching Netflix, and tacos.
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I like the cover and the use of color.
ReplyDeleteI like the smokey effects on the cover. It actually give it more of a nightclub feel.
ReplyDeletenice cover and i do enjoy a rockstar romance every now and then
ReplyDeletesherry @ fundinmental
It's been a very long time since I read a Rockstar Romance.
ReplyDeleteI think the cover is great!
ReplyDeleteSounds great, I like the cover!
ReplyDeleteI haven't seen any other Rockstar Romance books. Who hasn't had a crush on a Rock singer? I have a few times.
ReplyDeletethis cover is intriguing
ReplyDeletenice book cover and the book sounds interesting.
ReplyDelete