Bassist Instinct (The Rocker Series #2) Read Online Free Page A

favorite student’s famous family, so she tried not to think of anything sad as she let the music enfold her in its arms.
    She stood and stretched her 5’1” frame and fanned out her fingers. She pulled her thick black hair back away from her shoulders and thought she’d have time for a quick bike ride before she showered and walked up the street to Tess’s grandmother’s house. She put a windbreaker and helmet on and rolled her bike out of her garage and on to Volta Place.
    She thought she’d do a quick recce so she could find the house in two hours when she was expected. She pedaled north and east from her house and was delighted that there wasn’t much traffic. People must be where they needed to be already, she thought and turned a corner to head back to her house when out of the corner of her eye she saw a black SUV swerve directly toward her. In an effort to avoid one black SUV she barreled into another black SUV, which luckily wasn’t going very fast, because she flipped over the high hood of it and landed hard on to the pavement, knocking the breath from herself. The driver stopped and a crowd of people got out of the car to see if they’d killed her.
    “Christ, are you all right, love?” A voice said above her. Fiona opened her eyes and saw a very pretty blond man with startlingly blue eyes looking down at her with concern. If she could have spoken, she would have said “Wow.” She sat up and he knelt down to her, holding her forearms gently and looking into her eyes for brain damage or something. “Don’t move yet, you wee lemming. Sit still, aye?” His voice was as gentle as the hands that held her, she liked his voice as much as she liked his pretty face.
    “Give me a second,” she gasped, happy to have air again.
    “Take your time.” After a few gulps of air and a proud smile from the pretty man, she assessed the damage. Once the necessity of breathing was fulfilled she started to feel her injuries.
    “Okay, that hurt,” she said.
    “Should I call the paramedics, Tate?” A young woman hovering over her asked. The woman was holding a phone, her finger ready to press the screen.
    “Do you think you need an ambulance, love?” The pretty man asked. She stifled a giggle, she hoped they were Irish and she didn’t have brain damage. She read an article about a woman who after some trauma suddenly spoke with a Scottish accent when she had never even been to Scotland. She wondered if she had a similar trauma, only hearing, not speaking.
    “I’m okay, I think, just a little banged up. Nothing’s broken, I don’t think. Did you get the license plate of that idiot?” She asked bending her knee and looking carefully at her hands, moving her fingers delicately.
    “Which idiot was that?” Pretty man asked. He looked amused. She was still sitting on the pavement and he was still kneeling next to her holding her carefully. It should have bothered her but it didn’t.
    “The one that swerved to hit me. I wasn’t initially aiming for your car. Oh no, your car, is it okay?” She asked and he laughed. She looked up into his very blue eyes when he laughed. He had a face that was accustomed to laughter, she could see it in his small lines around his amused eyes and grinning mouth.
    “The car will live, are you okay?” She nodded and moved to stand. He pulled her up. She wobbled slightly and he held her to him. “Can we give you a lift home? You’re unsteady, my lass.” She thought it was him making her unsteady as he held her to his body. He was firm and warm and she liked the way he felt against her. Trying to concentrate, she looked at her bike. It might even be okay.
    “You’re very kind,” she said and looked at him again.
    “No,” he said, drawing the word out. “I just want to see you safe, you wee lemming.” Fiona laughed. It felt very nice to be in this stranger’s embrace, but she pulled away a little and he immediately released her, yet stood ready in case she fell