Wednesday, May 20, 2015

Deep by Kylie Scott

Stage Dive #4
Liz had one night with Ben in Vegas at Anne and Mal's wedding and now she is pregnant. She hasn't heard from Ben since that night. But during a dinner, Ben's date outs both Liz and Lena's pregnancy by accident when the ladies were saying that they had been experiencing a lot of throwing up.
Liz is devastated that Ben found out this way. She doesn't know what he will do. Mal is livid. Anne is upset that Liz did not tell her first.  Ben decides that he is going to take care of Liz and wants her to go on tour with the band. But just what is he offering?

I loved this one!! Liz is a doll. She wants Ben and hopes that she has really found a home with him.

I wonder if there will be another book.

Don’t miss a beat with the fourth and final novel in the New York Times and USA Today bestselling Stage Dive series from Kylie Scott.
One by one, the members of Stage Dive are falling in love. David, Mal, and Jimmy have all taken the plunge, and now it’s Ben’s turn—only he refuses to fall into that trap. The sexy bassist enjoys his no-strings-attached lifestyle. But when Ben is forced to keep the one girl he’s always had a weakness for out of trouble in Sin City, he quickly learns that what happens in Vegas, doesn’t always stay there.
She leaned in and whisper-hissed theatrically, "Ben brought a date."
Everything stopped. And I do mean everything. My lungs, my feet ... everything.
A flicker of a frown crossed Anne's face. "Liz?"
I blinked, slowly coming back to life. "Yeah?"
"You okay?"
"Sure. So, um, Ben brought a date?"
"Can you believe it?"
"No." I really couldn't. My brain had stalled, same as everything else. There'd been no date in my plans for speaking with Ben tonight.
"I know. First time for everything I guess. Everyone's slightly weirded out, though she seems nice enough."
"But Ben doesn't date," I said, my voice sounding hollow somehow, as if it were an echo coming from far away. "He doesn't even believe in relationships."
Anne cocked her head, smiling ever so slightly. "Lizzy, you don't still have a crush on him, do you?"
"No." I barked out a laugh. As if. He'd disabused me of such idiotic notions, in Vegas. "So much no my cup is overflowing and the no is spilling onto the floor."
Those dark eyes ... I immediately looked down. He didn't affect me. He didn't. I just wasn't ready to face up to this. Wherein this equaled him and me and that room and Vegas and the consequences that were currently growing in my belly.
I couldn't do it, not yet.
"Hey, Liz," he said, deep voice calm, casual.
Yeah. I was so over him. The date thing had thrown me, but now I was back on track. I just had to compartmentalize any unhelpful lingering feelings, file them away for never.
I took a step closer, daring a peek only to find him watching me warily. He threw back some beer then set the bottle down, swiping his thumb across his mouth to catch a stray drop. In Vegas, he'd first tasted of beer, lust, and need. The most dizzying mix. He had beautiful lips, perfectly framed by his short beard. His hair had grown out of the shaved on the sides and longish on top cool hipster cut, and honestly, he looked kind of shaggy, wild.
And big, though he always looked big.
A silver ring pierced one side of his nose and he had on a green plaid shirt, top button open to showcase his thick neck and the edge of a black rose tattoo. Any money blue jeans and black boots were below. Apart from in Vegas at the wedding, and then later that night in my room, I'd never seen him out of jeans. Let me assure you, there's nothing bad about the man naked. Everything was as it should be and then some. In fact, he'd looked a lot like a dream come true.
My dream.
I swallowed hard, while firmly pushing the memory back down where it belonged. Buried among the Hannah Montana song lyrics, Vampire Diaries character histories, and other useless and potentially damaging information collected over the years. None of it mattered anymore.
I half raised a hand in greeting. "Hi, everyone."
Heys and hi's and variations of both floated back.
"How have you been, Liz?" asked Ev, from farther down the table. She was seated beside her husband, David Ferris, Stage Dive's lead guitarist and songwriter.
"Great." Crap. "You?"
I sucked in a deep breath and smiled. "Excellent."

Pages: 288
Published: 2015

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