A LOVE SONG FOR LIARS
(RIVALS #1)
I want Tyler Adams... almost as much as I hate him.
When I met Tyler, he had nothing but a guitar.
I loved him anyway.
He was talented, mysterious and drop-dead gorgeous. He looked at me like I mattered, saw me in a way my famous father and rich private school classmates never did.
Until Tyler moved in with us to work with my dad and attend my school.
He didn’t have to betray my friendship and shatter my heart to win over everyone I hate.
Now, the boy I used to ache for is Oakwood Prep’s lying prince.
I will never forgive him.
But some nights...
...He makes me want to.
A Love Song for Liars is Book 1 in the angsty, emotional Rivals trilogy. Fans of forbidden, academy, rock star and new adult romance will love this new series.
*Tyler and Annie’s story continues in A Love Song for Rebels and concludes in A Love Song for Dreamers.
1
I hate Tyler Adams. Hating him would be my religion if music wasn’t.
But he’s here, facing me, his hair falling across the pillow in a dark cascade. His eyelashes are thick and so long it’s unfair. His mouth is parted in sleep, the top bow firm and the bottom lush.
I’m freaking out, my heart racing a mile a minute.
He’s warm. His heat emanates from his body, inviting me closer.
I hate how much I want to.
I want. I want. I want.
My thighs press together because if there’s a response to that realization that doesn’t involve a rush of heat flowing south, I don’t know what it is.
Of course I’d never let him know that when he’s awake, but he’s not.
Thank God he’s not.
I shift in bed, wincing as my muscles ache.
Perfect.
There’s a reason I’ve never had sex, and if I were going to, he’s the last guy I’d sleep with.
He could have so much more than this stupid place, this stupid school… Instead he sold me out for a bunch of dumb, rich assholes.
Tyler groans, and my heart leaps.
When he shifts, rolling onto his back and exposing even more beautifully carved torso, the covers ride low on his hips.
Not quite low enough to see if he’s wearing anything. I swallow.
I could look.
Don’t fucking look.
I press my hands to my eyes as if it’ll erase the image of the beautiful guy next to me.
Two days ago, all I cared about was being on stage, impressing my rock-star father, and not falling for Oakwood Prep’s rebel prince, Tyler Adams.
But when his eyes start to open…
I know I’m well and truly screwed.
Two days earlier
“Are you going to fuck it or just fantasize about it all day?”
The syrupy sweet voice makes me cut off my chorus halfway through a line.
“Your spoon.” The platinum blonde in the front row crosses one tan leg over the other, making her plaid skirt ride up. “You’re staring at it like you want to—“
“She’s a mermaid, Carly. She wants to be human. It’s an emotional moment.” My hand tightens on the flatware from the school dining hall.
“Whatever, Little Virgin Annie. And you?” Carly turns to the corner of the stage, where Jenna’s reading her lines behind a curtain of straight, dark hair. “You’re wearing a garbage bag for a tail. You look homeless.”
“Annie made it,” Jenna blurts, turning pale under her freckles. “I was afraid I’d trip when we got our costumes, so I wanted to practice first.”
I step between them. “First off, Jenna? Daniel Craig slept on park benches and J. Lo couch surfed at our age, so that’s a compliment.” She finds a nervous smile before I turn back to Carly. “Second, Jenna has conditional acceptance to Stanford, and your fast track is to Real Housewives, but that’s no reason to be jealous.”
Our school’s queen bee edges forward in her seat. “I don’t know why you’re even rehearsing, Annie. Being a dumb teenager who’ll never be what her daddy wants must be super relatable. I bet every night the great Jax Jamieson wishes he hadn’t fucked that groupie and ended up with you.”
I could beat Carly over the head with this spoon. Not hard enough to do permanent damage—assuming there are cells inside to damage—but hard enough to mess up her perfect waves. Maybe hard enough the made-up minions on either side of her would lift their overtweezed brows in surprise.
But I won’t let her see her words get under my skin.
“Girls, I hope you’ve been practicing while I’ve been gone.” Miss Norelli strides through the auditorium doors, returning from checking on a burnt-out stage light.
Our drama director shuffles up the aisle, her black sheath dress hugging her full figure, and takes a seat a few rows behind Carly and the others.
She pushes her purple glasses up her nose expectantly, eyes narrowed on the stage.
When the music starts again, I will myself to focus on my performance. To be a mermaid far away from the catty comments of bitchy schoolgirls who wouldn’t have the first idea what to do with themselves if they ran out of people to torture.
But when I see Carly unscrew the top of my water and tip a tiny brown bottle to pour something inside, my voice wavers.
“Stop! Annie, I thought we had this section,” Miss Norelli calls from her seat a few rows back.
Frustration flows through me. “We do. We did.”
“Why don’t we try it with the understudy?” Carly smiles as if the idea just popped into her head.
“Good idea.” Norelli folds her arms, and I swallow the anger as I trade places with Carly, who holds out her hand expectantly.
I shove the spoon into her hand before flipping her off. “Wash it when you’re done.”
I step out of my garbage bag and retrieve my water bottle, sniffing it before shoving the thing back in my bag.
“That part never should’ve been yours,” Lana, one of Carly’s minions, whispers. “The only reason Norelli picked you is because your dad’s a rock star. There’s no way you got his talent.”
“Carly’s still the understudy,” Tara, the other minion, points out. “A lot can happen in five weeks.”
“Shut it, Flotsam and Jetsam.” They should’ve been Ursula’s eels, not Ariel’s sisters.
Watching Carly perform, I wish she sucked, but she’s actually good.
“That’s enough rehearsal today,” Miss Norelli says when Carly finishes. “Annie, a moment.”
I get up and cross to her seat.
“Where’s the girl from auditions? The fearless one, the focused one.”
I shake my head. “She’s here. I swear.”
She sighs. “We’re running out of time.”
It was my decision to audition for the lead in the school musical and cross our school’s reigning queen, but what even Carly doesn’t know—what she can’t know—is how much I need this role.
This year, everything is going to change for me. I feel it the way you feel spring in the air before anything blooms.
I cling to that conviction as I head to the front of the auditorium to pack up my things.