Tangled Little Truths (Lake State University #7) Read Online Rachael Brownell

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors: Series: Lake State University Series by Rachael Brownell

Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)

I kissed her and she ran.
She was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen and the way she was looking at me that night, the electric charge between us, had my jeans feeling snug the entire show. When I found her standing alone between sets, I couldn’t help but approach her.
It wasn’t my intention to kiss her. I should have gotten to know her first. Asked her more than her name. But after watching her while I sang my heart out, I wasn’t thinking straight.
That was more than three years ago. When we were both naïve freshmen.
I’ve been watching her ever since. From afar. Like a crazy stalker. (Not my proudest admission.)
She’s even more beautiful than the first time I laid eyes on her. So when I walk into the rec center and find her waiting for me, alone, with lust in her eyes, I pounce. Again. Like an idiot.
Only this time, I don’t feel an ounce of regret because I don’t plan on letting her run away from me again. She’s been my inspiration for years and it’s about damn time she figured it out.
There’s only one way I can do that… I need to sing her the song I wrote about that night.
About her.
I could try to slowly weasel my way into her heart the way she has mine over the years, but I’m sick of wasting time. I want her to be mine today.
Because the truth is… I’ve been hers since that very first night.



* * *


* * *

Another night. Another dive bar.

We’ve played here before, though I don’t remember it smelling this ripe. Like someone took a piss in the corner, and instead of mopping it up with soap and water, they used stale beer. Then there’s the faint scent of body odor lingering in the air. And every time the front door opens, the chill of the winter air pushing in, all the toxic smells swirl around me and cause my stomach to churn a little more.

If Nash didn’t love this place so much, I’d never step foot back in here again. But we always put it to a vote when we’re offered a gig, and since Nash and Ace are best friends, I tend to get out voted.

Like last night, when the owner of the bar called, begging for us to play tonight after their regular Thursday night band backed out. I immediately sent the guys a text, even though I knew what the decision would be.

ME: BJ’s is asking if we want to take the ten o’clock slot tomorrow night.

NASH: Hell yes! Love that place.

ACE: I’m game.

Normally, I’d use homework or frat bullshit in an attempt to back out or convince them to turn the gig down. With classes ending today for the semester and winter break in full swing, I couldn’t come up with a valid excuse quick enough.

I’m not going home for break—they know this.

I don’t have any other commitments.

My schedule is wide open until the semester starts back up.

NASH: I know it’s not your favorite place, but we could use the money, Colt. We don’t have any other gigs coming up unless you booked us something and failed to mention it.

I have not.

For them, it’s always about the money. I’ve been scrimping and saving for years. I don’t spend a penny I don’t have to. Not because I don’t want to either. My financial aid allots me only a certain amount to live on each semester, and I stretch it as far as it will go. I know how to make a dime feel like a dollar. And I’m not ashamed of that.

My frugal ways have allowed to me save a good chunk of change for after graduation. It’s not enough to sustain me very long, so any extra cash would be a bonus. Which means taking the gig, even though I’d rather not.

ME: I’ll start putting out feelers after the holidays. Try to see if I can book a few gigs for January.

ACE: BJ’s pays the most. Maybe they’ll let us fill Thursday nights regularly.

That’s what I’m afraid of. As much as they want to see our name in lights one day, to tour the country and play the big arenas, that’s not my dream. Writing music is my passion. Singing for large crowds, touring… it’s all a distant second place.

Not to mention, it’s a pipe dream considering no one outside of Lake State has ever heard of us. And I’m afraid at the end of the day, our fate is going to be similar to our name.

Fade Into Nothing.

NASH: Can’t hurt to ask.

Nash’s final text from last night rattles around in my head as I watch him fiddle with his drumsticks. He and Ace finished setting up a few minutes ago and are currently sitting on the edge of the stage flirting with two girls. I’ve seen them before. They’ve been to a few shows. I’m not sure how they heard we were playing tonight since it was a last-minute thing, but I honestly don’t give a damn either. That’s two more people in the audience cheering, riling up the crowd.