Edge of Forever (Crimson Edge: Prequel)

Chapter 1

ONE

Kirsten

There’s a picture on my dresser of my parents the night they met. He has his arm around her waist and she’s gazing at him like he hung the moon. My mom was sixteen and Dad was nineteen. She fell in love with the up-and-coming rockabilly singer the moment they met, but the story we’ve always been told is that Dad didn’t want to get tied down, didn’t believe in marriage, and didn’t want kids.

So Mom got herself pregnant with my older sister Sydney.

It was the only way she could keep him in her life, ostensibly forever.

I keep that picture on my nightstand—even though I hate both of them—to remind me of that.

What she did.

Why she did it.

And to remind myself that I am not and will never be like her.

“Kirsten?” There’s a soft knock on my bedroom door before Sydney peeks in. “Are you ready? Sam’s here.”

I turn slowly and bite my lip. “How do I look?”

“Breathtaking,” she whispers, tears glistening in her eyes.

Sydney just had her second baby—the first since she and Ford got married—and she still gets pretty emotional sometimes.

“Don’t cry!” I admonish, blinking back a few tears of my own. “It’s your fault if I ruin my makeup!”

She laughs and nods. “Nope. Not crying.”

Even though she is.

“I can’t believe I’m graduating from high school in a couple of weeks,” I say in a quiet voice.

“I know.” She reaches for my hand. “And going off to college. Already with a hit single under your belt.”

Two years ago, I performed a duet with the platinum-selling rock band Onyx Knight that went to number one. I’m not your average high school senior.

And my date is not your average prom date either.

Sam Fielding is the lead guitarist for a band called Crimson Edge.

He’s tall, tattooed, and…breathtaking.

I fell in love with him the first time I laid eyes on him, but I was seventeen and he was twenty-two last year, so that was a no-go.

Now I’m eighteen.

And he’s taking me to prom.

“Syd?” I search my sister’s face.

“Yeah?” She looks at me curiously.

“Tonight might be the night.”

She smiles. “I know.”

“I’m nervous.”

“Don’t be. And don’t pressure yourself. If it’s the right time, both for you and for Sam, it will happen organically. If it’s not, then you’ll know.”

I pull in a breath. “Okay. You’re right. This is Sam. I shouldn’t be nervous. He’s a great guy.”

“He is.” She reaches out and gently squeezes my arm. “You look absolutely stunning. Go and have the time of your life with your friends but remember—that’s not Sam’s world. He finished high school a long time ago. He doesn’t know anyone, and chances are, outside of your core group of friends, no one knows who he is either. Try to make him feel included.”

“Oh, I will.” I’ve already thought of that. In fact, Sam and I talked about it when he first offered to take me.

He’s getting ready to go on tour, but he worked out the timing so that he could be here for this.

For me .

We’ve also talked about my virginity.

A lot.

I’m beyond ready, but he’s understandably wary.

He’s leaving to go on a world tour with the opening band for Nobody’s Fool, and I’m going to New York for college. After this week, we don’t know when we’ll see each other again and I know he’s worried about the emotional impact it will have on me.

The thing is, I’ve had to grow up a lot faster than other kids my age after my parents faked their deaths and disappeared four years ago. Sydney and I went through a lot, so it’s hard to giggle about first kisses and blow jobs after what happened to us.

Even though I still do that stuff sometimes.

“What are you thinking?” she asks knowingly.

She basically raised me. Even before my parents faked their deaths and moved to the other side of the world, she was more my mother than my mother ever was. She’s eight years older—that’s how long it took our mom to convince Daddy to get her pregnant again—so she was taking care of me almost from the get-go. Babies were nothing but a means to an end for our mom. I don’t believe she actually loved us.

“Will it change me?”

“Sex?” She chuckles. “Absolutely. But it doesn’t have to be this monumental thing that changes the course of your life. It should be about romance and passion and love, living in the moment. It doesn’t have to be forever love. Right-now love is okay too. It’s all about what makes you happy, your comfort level, stuff like that. As long as you and Sam are on the same page, everything will be fine.”

“That’s kind of how I feel, but my friends… well, Gina says she can’t imagine ever sleeping with anyone but Tony. And Cathryn said she never wants to do it ever again. Although Mark really wants to.”

Sydney just smiles. That soft, patient smile that makes her the best older sister/mom in the world. “Those are their experiences. Yours will be whatever you make it. As long as you and Sam communicate and follow your hearts.”

“Syd? Is she ready?” My brother-in-law, Ford, yells up the stairs.

“Coming!” she yells back. Then she turns to me. “Are you ready? Sam looks like the ultimate tall drink of water tonight. Other than Ford, I can’t think of anyone who looks better in a tux.” She pauses. “Well, maybe Kingston.”

We both laugh because the enigmatic lead singer of Onyx Knight is drop-dead gorgeous.

“Okay, let’s do this.” I slide my feet into my stupidly high heels and take a moment to steady myself. I wear heels fairly often, but rarely this high. They’re strappy and make my legs look a mile long. The slit in my pale pink dress shows off my right leg and I look down to make sure everything is sitting right.

Sydney and I spent a long time searching for the perfect dress. Something sexy but classy, modern but also elegant. I’m a minor celebrity in my own right, so there will be pictures on social media whether I want them there or not. Sydney and I, along with my management team, manage that kind of thing by putting up the pictures we want on the different platforms—we did a mini photo shoot earlier, but now it’s time for Sam to see me.

And honestly, his opinion is the only one I care about.

I grab my little purse, stick my phone in it along with my ID, a credit card and a little cash, and head for the stairs. My overnight bag is already down there since I have no plans to come home tonight.

For some reason, I’m more nervous about seeing Sam than I am before a performance in front of thousands of people.

Somehow, this is far more nerve-wracking.

The moment I see him, though, my nerves dissipate.

It’s Sam.

The same kind, gentle guitarist I’ve known for over a year.

The one I’ve been texting and chatting with daily for months.

Then he catches sight of me, and I pause mid-step.

Our eyes lock and something sizzles in his that I’ve never seen before.

Admiration.

Lust.

Adoration?

It’s all there in a single look.

And frankly, it takes my breath away.

Not to mention the way he fills out his tuxedo.

Sydney wasn’t kidding.

He looks…beautiful.

That’s the only word I can come up with.

His long blond hair is slicked back in a ponytail, he’s trimmed his beard into what I can only describe as sexy scruff, and because of what he’s wearing, you can’t see a single tattoo. Not that I mind—I love his tats—but we discussed him doing his best not to stand out as a twenty-three-year-old rockstar at prom.

I’m eighteen.

I can date whomever I please, but we still want to fit in and for him not to feel out of place so we can have fun.

I continue down the stairs, walking toward him slowly.

“Hi.” His voice is soft, gruff almost, and he holds out the corsage in his hand. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you. You look very handsome too. I think I like you in a tux almost as much as I like you on stage.”

He grins, his blue eyes twinkling. “Thanks.”

“Will you put it on me?” I hold out my wrist and motion to the corsage.

“Sure.” He takes it out and slides it over my wrist. It’s made of white roses decorated with something iridescent and glittery, which goes perfectly with my dress.

“Let’s get a couple of pictures,” Sydney says quietly, “and then you two should get going.”

Our eyes meet again, and I can’t tell what’s in his, but I really, really want to kiss him.

“Five minutes,” he murmurs, as if he can read my mind.

All I can do is smile and move into his arms, turning to where Ford and Sydney start snapping photos like it’s their job.

Finally, after what has to be twenty years, we head out to…the limo?

He rented a limo .

Which I know he can’t afford.

“Sam, what—” I turn to him questioningly.

“It’s fine,” he whispers. “You’re worth it.”

“But—” He puts two gentle fingers on my lips.

“You. Are. Worth. Every. Penny.”

Sweet Jesus, why does that do things to my nether regions?