Loud is How I Love You (Hub City #1)
by Mercy Brown
One girl’s heart gets rocked to the core in the first novel in this sexy New Adult series.
Twenty-one-year-old front girl Emmylou knows that getting her band noticed in the ‘90s indie rock scene will be no easy task. She definitely knows better than to break the number one rule of the band: Don't sleep with your bandmates! But after she ends up having the best sex of her life with her guitarist, Travis, she finds following that rule is a lot harder than it sounds.
When the band gets the gig of their dreams, making it big seems just within reach. But Emmy’s inability to keep her hands off Travis threatens everything they’ve worked for. Can Emmy find a way to break the rules and not blow the chance of a lifetime?
FROM CHAPTER 2:
I know I should be home working on my poetry paper, but instead I’m standing on Travis’s front porch. I drove straight here from Mom’s because I have important, unfinished business with Travis. The way we left it at Neubies this morning isn’t okay—things are too weird and I need to un-weird them in a hurry—so on my way home I stop in front of his house, park across the street. I see the light on in his room and get out of the car, but I can’t seem to get further than the front porch. The doorbell is right there, but I just stare at it because I have no idea what I’m going to say to him yet. I’m still working on it.
We can’t go on like this.
It isn’t you, it’s me.
Let’s just try to be adults here. It’s only sex.
Oh wait, I tried that one already and it was a dismal failure.
I’m not prepared when the door opens and there’s Travis, barefoot and his hair is all messy like he’s been napping on it.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hi.” There’s a long pause and then he opens the screen door and I go in.
Travis lives in an old house a few blocks from me in Highland Park with George from the local punk band Fester, but George isn’t here. He’s probably drinking at the Ale ’n ’Wich with the Rutgers women’s rugby team since he’s their coach.
The living room and the entire downstairs is dark. Travis puts on a light and offers me a seat but I don’t take it. He stands there with his hands in his pockets, leaning against the back of the couch.
“How was flyering?” I ask.
“It was fine,” he says. “I got the River dorms. I even went up to Vintage Vinyl. Picked up the Archers of Loaf album.”
“Make a tape for me?”
But I don’t really care about Archers of Loaf right now. I care about how Travis’s forearms are flexing as he crosses them in front of his chest. Without realizing I’m going to do it, I let out a noisy, exasperated sigh because I’m so frustrated with myself, because I can’t stop wanting him. How am I going to rehearse with him if I can’t stop thinking about how much I want to fuck him all the time?
“Emmy, what’s the matter?” he says.
“I don’t want it to be weird,” I say. “That’s all.”
“Yeah? Well what do you want it to be?”
This is an excellent question but I don’t have an answer for him. The same, I think. I want it to be the same as it’s always been because it’s been so good. But I don’t say this because it’s in direct conflict with something else I want. Namely, to take the stairs three at a time and jump right into bed with him.
Travis reaches for me, tugging on the sleeve of my jacket, and pulls me into him. His arms are around me and I lay my head on his shoulder. “I don’t know, I don’t know,” I say, and I run the tip of my nose along his neck which has the Travis cold-mountain, hot-sheets scent in spades, and I seem unable to keep my lips off of him and now I’m back in the place where I’m not able to think about the ramifications, the fallout. He exhales and his arms tighten around me. I feel his hand at the base of my neck, his fingers threading into my hair, spread out and strong and careful on my skull like he’s holding a giant, priceless glass egg and it’s about to crack. This is basically how my head feels. Like it’s about to split open from the pressure of holding my dire need to keep everything the same between us and my intense desire to get Travis back into my pants.
In spite of myself I kiss him, and his lips are that amazingly odd guy-lip combination of strong and soft all at once. I remember learning in eighth grade band that there are twenty-one different muscles in your lips and I think Travis is using them all right now.
Mercy Brown is a retired indie rock front girl turned author and LOUD IS HOW I LOVE YOU is her first book. LOUD is a New Adult novel and will be published by Intermix (Berkley-Penguin) in January 2016. LOUD is based, very, very loosely on Mercy's experiences fronting bands in the 90s. A follow-up will be published in June 2016.
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