Sadie Miller is attempting to change her ways and hide somewhere no one knows her former self. She only wants to finish her final year of college, obtain her degree, and get out from the hold of her affluent parents. Then she meets Brady Carsen, the lead singer of The Invisibles, a local band popular with the college crowd. She tries to stay away but quickly realizes that, although he might not be what she’s used to, he’s exactly what she needs and more importantly, everything she could possibly want.
Unfortunately, Sadie’s troubled past left her with insecurities that make her question Brady’s true intentions. And while Brady is convinced that Sadie is the one for him, he has his own secrets that he fears will be their undoing. If they want to be together, they will have to stand united and fight the outside influences that are threatening to tear them apart. Can they put their pasts behind them for good in order to secure their future?
Top 5 Things you Should Know about BRADY
1. Lead singer in The Invisibles
2. Sports a faux hawk
3. No tattoos
4. Likes to talk dirty
5. Falls hard for Sadie Miller
And Now A little Bit of Don;t Let Go From Bradys POV
Don’t Let Go
By Michelle Lynn
“Hey, Brady,” the soft, whispery voice diverts my attention away from the water bottle in my hand.
“Hey,” I respond back to the small brunette who is fidgeting with her fingers. She glances to her friends and then back toward me. Following her line of vision, I notice the group of girls huddled together on the opposite side of the room, smiling over at us.
“So…” she hesitates, with her eyes locked on the ground. “Are you guys playing tonight?”
She’s cute and appears innocent. I should just tell her now that someone else beat her to me. Although I haven’t spoken one word to the blonde that has consumed my every thought for the last three weeks, she has already claimed me. I can’t sleep, eat, or hell, even walk around campus without thinking about those lost eyes.
“We’re on next, Carsen,” our drummer says and pats me on the back while making his way to the stage. He stops abruptly and walks backward toward us. “I’m Trey,” he says using his best flirtatious tone.
“Allison,” she shakes his hand and I notice a white gauze bandage on his forearm. He must’ve stopped by the tattoo parlor on his way here. I swear he spends more time there than our house.
Trey looks at me and I give him a discreet nod, confirming that he can go ahead and move in. Trey would normally never interfere with my game but he knows I have no interest. Last week, I finally told him about the blonde and he’s been helping me try to find her. I’m starting to get scared though that I’m becoming a stalker.
As Trey squeezes between me and the brunette, I scoot over and prop my foot against the wall while taking a swig of my water. I hate this place but they pay us well, giving us half of the door cover charges plus a cooler of beer for the guys. It still surprises me that the place hasn’t been raided or condemned. The crowd is a mix of hardcore punk and just the regular rockers that I usually see at our shows. Scanning over the array of colored heads with piercings on every body part, my eyes land on a bleach blonde with a pixie cut. Her head bops from side to side as she jumps up and down to the band. A small smile spreads across my lips as I admire the way she’s lost in the music before my eyes continue across the room. When I see the blonde next to her, my mouth grows dry and my heart rate increases as though I just ran a marathon. Out of all the places I could run into her, I never would’ve thought it’d be here.
I want to stomp through the crowd, knocking everyone over until I reach her. But my feet feel like lead, weighing me to the floor while my eyes remain on her. She still has those lost eyes, but tonight she looks uncomfortable too. This group can’t be her usual crowd; it must have something to do with the pixie girl next to her. My assumption is confirmed when the pixie girl buys two beers from the douche in the corner. She hands one over to my girl and they both open them up. I chuckle when I see her cringe from the taste and then politely hold it in her hands.
She starts scanning the crowd and when her eyes reach mine, my breath stops, praying she can feel everything inside of me. My heart feels like a dagger just stabbed the beating muscle when she keeps looking around, not even giving me a second glance. The other guys are noticeably looking her up and down in appreciation of her body as they walk by. I need to make sure these assholes know it’s mine. My feet start walking toward her without ever thinking about what I’m going to say. As the guys and girls call out to me, I ignore them, keeping my sights only on her.
Just as I get within five steps, she turns toward the door and begins pushing her way through the crowd. Shit! Desperate to not lose her, I attempt to catch up but she’s rushing out of this place at warp speed. I can’t blame her though; this place is a shithole. If I didn’t have to play, I wouldn’t be here either. Right when I’m about to lose sight of her, a pink purse flies into the air before crashing to the ground. The shitheads continue to trample over it and I stand there debating whether or not to pick it up when a wave of blonde hair suddenly falls into my arms. She jumps up and straightens herself out before I get a chance to really feel how soft I know her skin must be.
She bends down frantically, trying to pick up her stuff, and I attempt to help her while racking my brain to figure out how to get her to stay. I wish I could abandon this whole show tonight and take her out, but I won’t disappoint the guys. Lately, they’re all that I have. At this point, I have her lipstick, some mirror thing, and a few random receipts in my hand. Then I spot them and a wide smile crosses my lips.
“Here you go.” I hold the ring around my finger, as though teasing her with them. When her hand stretches out to grab them, I clasp my hand shut. “I don’t think you need them.”
I pray this works. It’s my only option, even if she thinks I’m a dipshit for holding her keys hostage. She stands up and I wrap my hand around her upper arm, discovering that her skin is as soft as silk. She looks at me and her revealing emerald eyes catch me off guard. They’re so big and bright up close, but there’s a shitload of sadness in them as well. Her lips form a firm, tight line before she demands, “Why are you holding me up and can I have my keys now?” Man, she’s even hotter when she’s angry.
“Sorry, I don’t let people drive drunk.” I push the keys in my pocket and I can’t help but smirk watching her eyes follow my hand. When she finally looks back up at my face, I can tell she likes what she sees. Maybe there’s hope for me yet.
“I’m not drunk,” she spurts out.
“That’s what they all say,” I respond.
“What do you want me to do to prove it? Walk a line? Say the alphabet?” she asks, not sounding as amused as I am right now. “ Z, Y, X…” she actually starts to rattle off the alphabet backwards. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. If I laugh, she’s sure to leave but man is she adorable.
“You really aren’t drunk?” I ask in mock disbelief.
“No, some jerk knocked me down.”
“Really?” I pretend to search her eyes for signs of intoxication, but I’m really just admiring the freckles of brown in them. “Sorry, I just assumed since you were fumbling backwards.” I purposely let my eyes roam up and down her body, enjoying every inch I see. “I figured you swayed over from the frat party down the street.”
“No, I was here with my roommate, I had a couple sips of a beer, and if you could hand me my keys, I would like to leave now,” she says, her demeanor turning shy.
“You’re leaving before the final band?” I ask, still not giving up her keys. Maybe I should entice her to go after them herself, but then she’d feel how excited I’m already becoming.
“Yes, I have an early morning,” she says with her hand out. Now all I need her to do is start tapping her toe on the ground.
“I’ll give these back to you on one condition.” I dig them out of my jeans and dangle them in front of her. Her eyes remain on them like a dog watching its bone. I feel like such an asshole doing this, but I’ve waited too long to actually speak with her.
“How about you just give them to me and call it a night?” she says, but I’m starting to hear some enjoyment in her tone now.
“What’s the fun in that? I want you to stay for the last band. It’s my band, The Invisibles.” I smile down to her, praying like hell it works.
“Brady. Brady Carsen,” I tell her. Commit that name to memory, honey.
“Listen, Brady. I’m not the kind of girl you’re looking for. So I thank you for stopping my fall and helping me pick up my things, but why don’t you just give me my keys. You can go up and play and I’ll go home.”
“Kind of girl I’m looking for?” I ask, raising my eyebrows. “Just stay and afterwards we can get to know each other better.” Oh shit, she’s going to think I only want to fuck her. I have to fix this somehow. Before I can say anything though, she surprises me by agreeing to stay, and I can’t help the cheesy smile that I’m sure is spread across my face. I finally hand her the keys.
“You’re going to love it,” I tell her and grab her small, delicate hand, tugging her back the way we came.
I stop her right where she won’t get trampled and I’ll have a good line of vision as well. Sometimes the shows can get pretty intense and I’d hate myself if something happened to this beautiful creature. “Stay here. I’ll come back for you after the show,” I lean in and whisper in her ear, smelling her sweet, light scent. I close my eyes, trying to embed it into my senses. I turn around before she notices my obsessive behavior, but quickly realize that I forgot one major bit of information.
“I never caught your name.”
“Sadie Miller,” her soft, soothing voice reveals and it kills me already that she could’ve told me a fake name.
“It’s nice to meet you, Sadie. Enjoy the show.” With a turn of my heels, I walk away from her. Every step is excruciating, but I can’t help being elated that I finally found her…or she found me. Regardless, I’m not letting her go.
Michelle Lynn has always been a reader, but her passion has become a full-blown addiction since her husband bought her a Kindle for Mother's Day. She's pretty sure that he regrets this on a regular basis. Especially when she has it propped up next to the stove while she cooks, which often results in a burnt dinner. Or when he loses sleep because the glow from the screen wakes him up when he rolls over at three in the morning. He does agree, however, that she uses this gift more than any other he has ever gotten her. She joking counters that, because of some of the steamy novels she reads, he also benefits more from this gift than any other he has gotten her. ;)
Michelle moved around the Midwest most of her life, transferring from school to school before settling down in the outskirts of Chicago ten years ago, where she now resides with her husband and two kids. She developed a love of reading at a young age, which helped lay the foundation for her passion to write. With the encouragement of her family, she finally sat down and wrote one of the many stories that have been floating around in her head. When she isn’t reading or writing, she can be found playing with her kids, talking to her mom on the phone, or hanging out with her family and friends. But after chasing around twin preschoolers all day, she always cherishes her relaxation time after putting the kids to bed.