Ever since Lily died two years ago, Evie has been lost. She exists but doesn’t live. And she copes the only way she knows how: by wrecking things.
She exposes her dad’s affairs, ends things with her longtime boyfriend, and just last semester, she destroyed her music scholarship. Desperate to break away from all the destruction she’s caused and start over, Evie reinvents herself at her new university.
But then Rhys, her new voice instructor, happens. He’s gorgeous, insanely talented and apart of the dark past she’s trying to overcome. Rhys’s brother is the reason why Evie’s life is such a mess right now, the reason why Lily, Evie’s sister, is dead. And even though Rhys is the last person Evie should ever want, for the first time in two years, wrecking things seems…right.
“She’s not going to stop until you go down there.” Releasing a low growl, James drops my hair so that the chestnut locks fall around my face. He’s right. As much as I hate to admit it, the longer I ignore Mom’s yelling, the more pissed she’ll get until, eventually, she drags herself up here. And after the last time she found James in my room—which resulted in us having “the talk” followed by a marathon of awkward teen pregnancy movies—that’s the last thing I want happening. Digging my palms into the carpet, I push myself up. I dance across the room, moving my body in rhythm to the Incubus song blaring from the iPod dock until I reach the door. “Fuck, Evie. Stop being a tease and just go see what she wants,” James says in a harsh whisper.
Grabbing the knob, I toss a look over my shoulder. “Give me five.” I’m still smiling—still on a high from the last thirty minutes—as I race downstairs. But once I reach the landing, I stop short. Mom is standing at the front door with her back turned to me. Her head is down, delicate shoulders trembling, and the most broken noise I’ve ever heard is shoving its way from the back of her throat.
My grin dissolves into something that sets my face on fire, and I struggle to find my voice. I can’t, so someone else speaks for me. “We’re so sorry for your loss, Mrs. Taylor—”
This is the first time I notice the two officers standing on the other side of the door. I struggle to breathe—to stand upright—as I force out the first name that makes sense. “Dad? Mom is Dad—”
But she shakes her head. She shakes her head, and I know what’s coming even before she says, “Lily.” One name. Two syllables. And suddenly, I don’t care about breathing or standing any longer.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Emily Snow is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the erotic romance series Devoured, which includesDevoured, All Over You, and Consumed, as well as the new adult novel Tidal. She loves books, sexy bad boys, and really loud rock music, so naturally, she writes stories about all three.