Laney has sex with the most famous rockstar in the world, Ace Flanagan, at her sister’s wedding, never expecting to see him again. But when Laney discovers she’s pregnant, both her and Ace’s lives are changed forever…
Age Rating: 18+
Eyes on Us by Rebeca Ruiz is now available to read on the Galatea app! Read the first two chapters below, or download Galatea for the full experience.
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1
Laney has sex with the most famous rockstar in the world, Ace Flanagan, at her sister’s wedding, never expecting to see him again. But when Laney discovers she’s pregnant, both her and Ace’s lives are changed forever…
Age Rating: 18+
Original Author: Rebeca Ruiz
I’ve been preparing for this moment for the past six months. But it wasn’t supposed to happen like this.
Instead of my water breaking, I’m lying in a pool of my own blood on a creaky staircase.
Instead of nine months, it’s only been seven and a half.
Instead of having the father by my side, I’m completely and totally alone.
I’m terrified. Black dots obscure my vision. I don’t know if it’s the blood or something else, but I can feel my consciousness slipping.
I can’t believe it’s come to this. What if my baby doesn’t make it? What if our baby doesn’t make it?
I think of Ace, I think of how we met, I think of how we made love and, in turn, made this inevitable future unfold. And I think, as my eyes roll back…
Would Ace care if we lost it all?
What is one baby to the biggest rockstar in the world?
Where are you, Ace Flanagan, father of my child?
Where are you?
***
SEVEN MONTHS EARLIER
So, this is how a rockstar marries a supermodel.
I’m hiking up a small trail, following fifty guests to a private reception in the California mountains. Even in October, the weather is sweltering. Way too hot for a Chicago girl like me.
I worry I’m going to sweat right through this bridesmaid’s dress. But for Addie? For my twin sister? I’ll do anything.
When we finally reach the clearing, my mouth drops in awe. Shimmering lights hang from the towering redwoods all around us, illuminating the tree line with a pink glow. An altar decorated with hundreds of flowers waits at the end of an ivory-blanketed aisle.
If ever there was a fairy tale wedding, this must be it.
When Addie told me the wedding was going to be private, I didn’t realize she meant this private. The cost of being famous, I suppose.
I see Melody, Addie’s personal assistant, best friend, and maid of honor.
“Melody, everything looks amazing!”
“Thanks, Laney,” she says, grinning nervously. “I just hope Addie is satisfied. It really should be you giving the toast, not me.”
I shrug, bashful. The truth is, I’m beyond grateful Melody is taking that responsibility. I’ve always suffered from stage fright. Shied away from the spotlight. That kind of attention?
It’s just not for me.
Which is funny, considering my sister’s face is plastered across magazines, internet gossip blogs, and entertainment news 24/7. She was famous before she got engaged to Eric Flanagan, lead singer of Vagabond, America’s biggest rock band. But now?
The two of them can’t go anywhere without someone snapping their photo.
That’s why they’re having their wedding here, in the middle of the forest, with only fifty guests. Still, even this kind of celebrity wedding, with movie stars and singers and influencers left and right, is a lot for an introverted artist like me.
As I sit down in the front aisle, I find myself dreaming of my Chicago studio and the paintings I’m dying to finish. Which is when I hear his Brooklyn-accented voice for the first time beside me.
“Mind if I sit here?”
I turn to see a dark-haired, muscular, drop-dead gorgeous specimen of a man with a slightly reddish beard and eyes so deep and blue, you could swim in them.
Somehow, his voice and face strike me as familiar. But how? I’m not sure.
“Go ahead,” I say, realizing I’m staring.
He sits down beside me in his fitted black suit, and I can’t help but admire his figure. Tall, fit, the kind of man who gets whatever he wants, I can just tell.
“Do you know the bride or groom?” he asks.
I look into his eyes and see how they wander over me, from my short, black lace dress to my bare legs to my pink suede ankle boots.
“Well,” I say, “Addie and I are very close.”
“How close?”
“So close we actually shared a womb… We’re twins.”
He looks surprised, so I elaborate a little bit. “Fraternal.”
A lot of people give us that look when Addie and I say we’re twins. With her brown hair, green eyes, and tall supermodel body, and my strawberry blonde hair, grey eyes, and curvy hourglass body, we couldn’t look more different.
Now, I find myself curious about this handsome stranger beside me. How does he know the bride or groom?
“You must be a friend of Eric’s?” I ask.
“You’re joking, right?” he responds, taken aback.
“I’m sorry?”
“I’m in Vagabond with Eric,” he explains, grinning. “I play lead guitar and sing backup mostly, occasionally lead vocals.”
That’s how I recognized him. Of course. I’ve been so behind the times, barely watching TV, listening to the radio, or using my iPhone for anything but making calls and taking photos, I didn’t notice.
I blush, embarrassed. “I’m sorry. You must think I’m a complete idiot.”
“Not at all,” he says. “It’s refreshing. To actually meet someone.”
“So, you’re…”
“Ace Flanagan, Eric’s cousin.”
We shake hands, and at the feel of his calloused fingertips, I can tell how dedicated he is to his craft. I wonder what else he can do with those hands.
“And your name is…?”
“Oh, I’m Laney,” I say, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Laney Michaels.”
“Laney Michaels,” he says, testing it on his tongue. “Has a nice ring to it.”
He’s flirting. That much is obvious. But, for some reason I can’t fathom, I don’t mind. I know I should tread carefully. Rockstars have their reputations for a reason. And yet…
“So, you know what I do,” he says. “What do you do, Laney?”
“I’m an artist.”
“Anything I’d know?”
I shake my head. “Probably not. I do a lot of murals for schools and other buildings around the area where I live.”
Something about this answer seems to light up his eyes. It’s hard to stare into them for too long. Like staring into the sun.
I look away just as a bell is rung, and we turn to see Eric, the groom, walking down the aisle.
“Here we go,” Ace says.
I let out a deep breath, grateful the wedding has interrupted our conversation. As much as I’m enjoying talking to Ace, something about the way he carries himself, his fame—it intimidates me.
And I’m not here to be intimidated. I’m here for my sister. I’m here to be her only family on the day she’s about to marry the love of her life and start a whole new kind of family.
As Eric walks down the aisle, he looks every bit the rockstar, even in a tux. His blonde hair, slicked back, his brown eyes sparkling with mischief. He winks at me as he walks by, and I wonder how it is I’ve never met his cousin, Ace, before now.
Then, I see my sister walking down the aisle and my heart feels like it’s going to burst I’m so happy for her. In her white designer dress, a mix of retro and chic, Addie’s never looked so beautiful. The smile on her face is one of pure joy.
Holding her arm, walking her down the aisle, is Michael, our social worker from when we were kids. That difficult childhood, full of foster homes after our mother left us outside the firehouse with nothing but a note, feels so far away now.
Were it not for Michael and his kindness, who knows if we would’ve ended up here?
At last, as Addie takes Eric’s hand, the ceremony begins.
It feels like it goes by in a flash. Before I know what’s happening, she’s leaning in to kiss Eric, they’re husband and wife, and it’s over, just like that.
I can’t believe it.
“God damn, those two are beautiful,” I hear that Brooklyn accent mutter to my left.
I turn to look at Ace Flanagan. To my surprise, the man has tears in his eyes. A rockstar, crying at a wedding? I never thought I’d see the day.
I hand him a tissue from my purse, and he laughs, shaking his head.
“I must look ridiculous.”
“Far from it,” I say. “Like you said. It’s refreshing.”
“To see a grown man crying?”
“To see someone not afraid to show emotion in public.”
“That’s what I do for a living, Laney,” he says. “That’s what we both do. We’re artists.”
“I suppose that’s true.”
I turn back to look at Eric and Addie holding onto each other, grinning like there’s no one in the world but them. He spins her around, and I feel my heart flutter.
I wonder if there’ll ever be a man who looks at me the way Eric looks at Addie.
Which is when I realize Ace Flanagan is still staring at me.
I turn and meet his gaze. It’s at that moment, as I stare into the blue eyes of one of the biggest rockstars in the world, I realize my life is going to change forever.
I don’t know how, but instinct tells me, by the end of this wedding, Eric and Addie won’t be the only ones making love.
Ace Flanagan, I wonder. Do you feel the same?
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2
The bride and groom are onto me. Sure, I’m here to enjoy their wedding, but who says I can’t enjoy my time here as well? All I did was switch seats at the party to be next to Addie’s sister—what’s the big deal?
Laney’s a grown woman who can take care of herself. Laney Michaels. Just the sound of her name gets my mouth watering.
She’s exactly my type. Artsy, intelligent, and sexy as all hell. The fact she’s a little shy only makes me more intrigued.
I know I promised Addie I wouldn’t pursue her sister, but so far, I’m not breaking any promises.
Just being friendly.
And if Laney decides she’d like to pursue me…well, that’s a whole ’nother story.
She sits back down with a stiff drink—bourbon, by the looks of it—and I raise an eyebrow, impressed. “Good taste,” I say, nodding.
She shrugs. “I hate sweet drinks.”
“That makes two of us.”
I raise a glass—straight gin in mine—and we toast, both taking a sip, eyes lingering on each other.
“So, what does a rockstar think of a boring party like this?” she asks.
I look around. The band’s playing Sinatra. People are swaying on the dancefloor. It’s typical wedding stuff and, Laney’s right, not my kind of thing. But I don’t mind it right now.
“Can’t always be partying hard,” I say. “People think that’s all we do on the road. But it’s a lot of physical, grueling work.”
“Yeah, you got it so bad,” she teases, and I find myself laughing.
“What about you, Laney?”
“Oh, I don’t go out much at all. I prefer to be painting.”
“So, how do you find time to date?”
She blushes, taking another sip. And I know I’m pushing it regarding my promise to Addie. So I hit the brakes.
“My bad,” I say, shaking my head. “Sometimes, I can’t help myself.”
“From flirting?”
I stop, eyeing Laney up and down. This is forward, especially for an introvert like her. She seems just as surprised by her own nerve.
“Is that what I’m doing?” I ask.
“I wouldn’t know,” she admits. “But I wouldn’t…take offense…if you were.”
That’s about as bold an invitation as I’m gonna get when it comes to this girl. I scoot a little bit closer toward her, feeling her body stiffen in response.
“So, if you don’t take offense,” I respond quietly, “why not answer my question? How do you find time to date?”
“I don’t,” she says. “Not often.”
“Because you don’t want—”
“No,” she cuts me off. “Because I haven’t found the right person.”
And now, from the way her eyes meet mine, I understand what she’s saying. Just because she’s shy doesn’t make her prude. And those eyes are screaming to be taken.
“What about you?” she asks. “Many girlfriends?”
Again, I am surprised by how little Laney knows about me. No, I don’t have girlfriends. I have “friends” who happen to be women and who I happen to please occasionally. And vice versa.
You would think Laney would know that. The media’s always circulating photos of every new side-piece on my arm. Especially now that Vagabond is selling out stadiums around the world.
A girl this oblivious is rare to come by. In fact, she may just be one-of-a-fucking-kind.
“I don’t have a girlfriend at the moment,” I reply, watching her carefully.
Laney bites her lip, and, fuck, I can feel myself hardening just at the implication of that bite. Oh my lord, am I in trouble.
“Do you want to maybe…?” I start, and I don’t need to finish, because Laney’s grabbing my hand and we’re hurrying out of the party as fast as we can.
Don’t hate me, Addie, I think. But how can I help myself?
I had a feeling this was going to happen. From the first second I laid eyes on Ace Flanagan, I knew…he wasn’t just another guy.
Now, as he pushes me against the hotel door, blue eyes looking wild, I can see what makes him a rockstar, all right. The man is absolutely magnetic.
And, damn, does he know how to keep a girl in suspense. He keeps teasing me with his lips, kissing me anywhere but my mouth. I finally grab him by the neck.
“Kiss me already,” I demand.
And thankfully, this time, Ace does.
Nothing in the world has ever felt as good as Laney’s lips on mine. As I kiss her softly, I look into those gray, endless eyes, knowing I could write a million songs about ’em, and they still wouldn’t do her justice.
While I kiss her, I fumble with the hotel key, sliding it in, unlocking the door, and pushing both our bodies inside. She presses me against the wall, a more proactive partner than I could have possibly imagined from her shy girl act.
And now, she’s kissing me fiercely, gripping my arms, moaning softly as she presses against me, rubbing and fondling everywhere a man wants to be touched.
Laney yelps in surprise as I pick her up and throw her on my king-size bed.
As I land on the bed, every thought in my mind disappears, and all there is this moment, here and now.
I need him.
I want him.
Now.
“Take off your shirt,” I tell him.
Ace, aiming to please, unbuttons his dress shirt. Slowly. Too slowly. I sit up to help him, racing to finish with the buttons, unbuckling his belt next. I am restless for him, and he can sense it.
“Your turn,” he says, in a low, raspy breath. “Take that fucking dress off before I rip it off.”
I like that tone of voice and smile slyly. I sit up on my knees and slowly, sexily, pull up my black dress. He helps me remove it completely.
She’s left in nothing but black lingerie. Her perfectly curved body, absolutely beautiful. I can’t wait to touch every inch of it.
I take off my dress pants, leaving me only in my boxers. This time, when I kiss Laney, it’s more urgent than any kiss before. I only have a few hours with this girl, and I intend to make every single moment count.
I lay her down on the bed, pressing my hardness against her. She pushes back with her heat. I feel her hand wrap around me, over my boxers, then under, and I moan in ecstasy.
I can hardly take it. I move my lips from her cheek to her jawline to her neck and lower. I pull her black thong off and throw it aside without looking.
I want to taste her. Every inch of her.
His tongue is dancing and teasing exactly where I want him. I arch my neck back, fingers curling into the bedsheets, moaning uncontrollably. My thighs tighten around his head, pushing him inside me, deeper.
How does he…?
He’s going to make me…
I can’t…
I orgasm, and I can hardly breathe it’s so good. And it’s only my first of the night, because now, Ace is climbing back up, pulling down his boxers, about to…
I enter her, and she’s so tight, I can hardly fit. The tightest I’ve ever had, dear fucking God.
I watch her face as I press into her—slowly, softly at first. Her eyes shut so tight…her mouth open slightly…soft sounds escaping her.
I rub and kiss her erect nipples as I continue to push myself inside of her. Her hands on my back, nails scratching me. But I don’t care. I left my mark on her; now, let her leave her mark on me.
“Harder,” she whispers, and her wish is my command.
Now he’s pummeling into me so hard I feel like my whole body is about to split wide open, and I’ve never loved the torture more. This is ecstasy. This is everything. And as we both release, at the exact same second, I stare into his eyes and know.
This is not a normal night for him or for me. This is different. We both cry out in rapture, losing ourselves completely.
How we are ever expected to return to normal life after this, I have no idea. Right now, we have become one, and there’s no going back.
This can’t just be another one-night stand, can it?
As I finally roll off of Laney, both of us breathing profusely, laughing, still in complete and total ecstasy, I realize only now, too late, I didn’t wear protection.
Not that I’m worried. Laney doesn’t strike me as the kind of girl I’d have to worry about. And I’m assuming, she would’ve told me if she’s not on the pill or something, right?
Whatever. Right now, none of that matters. All that matters is, Laney Michaels just gave this rockstar the best sex of his entire life. I cannot wait to see her beside me in the morning.
Hell, we may even have time for a round two.
With that happy thought on my mind, I feel my eyelids lowering…slipping…fading into the most peaceful sleep imaginable.
***
When I wake up in the morning, Laney’s gone.
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