Rock The Wolfe Read Free Page B

music?”
    Where had that question come from?
    “Sure. Hard rock, classic rock. Not a fan of the sugary stuff. The more drums and guitar riffs, the better.”
    “Please don’t say you’re a fan of Nickelback.” He groaned.
    She laughed. “I don’t understand the hate out there for these guys. They rock—I mean really rock. And they’re Canadian. What’s not to like?”
    “I’ve nothing against Canadian rock. Hell, I was raised on a steady diet of Neil Young, BTO, Rush, Trooper, April Wine….”
    “Prism, Harlequin, and The Guess Who….” she interjected.
    A wide smile broke out on his face. “A woman after my own heart. Let’s head into the eighties. Loverboy, Red Rider, Honeymoon Suite, Glass Tiger….”
    “Frozen Ghost, Bryan Adams, Corey Hart….”
    “Oh God, Corey Hart?” He laughed.
    “I love ‘Sunglasses at Night.’ His music is lush and well produced. I still listen to it. You forgot Platinum Blonde.”
    His eyes sparkled with amusement. “Okay, props to Corey. He didn’t suck. But Platinum Blonde?” He hesitated, drew a sour look on his face, and shook his head. “How about the nineties? Our Lady Peace, Matthew Good Band, The Tea Party, Blue Rodeo, Barenaked Ladies….”
    “The Tragically Hip!”
    He nodded. “Absolutely. Now, the two-thousands. Three Days Grace, Finger Eleven, Theory of a Deadman…. How about WolfePak?”
    “I don’t listen to alternative rock. Isn’t that what they were? Or is it classified as grunge? Not sure of the difference. I think I’ve heard a few songs on the radio, but they didn’t do anything for me.”
    His smile disappeared. What had she said? His posture stiffened, and his mouth drew into a taut line.
    “Grunge is considered to be more depressing in its tone, though I suppose a few of my songs leaned that way,” he answered quietly.
    His songs? Oh. My. God. Wolfe Phelan. She’d never made the connection. Of course! The tats, leather pants, and the long hair should have been a dead giveaway. As well as the sexy, killing-me-softly voice.
    “It’s hard to talk with my foot in my mouth.” She smiled wanly. “No insult meant. I really don’t listen to much alternative. I thought I’d read recently your group broke up?”
     
    ***
     
    She’d no idea who he was. Not sure whether I feel relived or insulted . He’d brought up the subject of music because it was such a part of his life. He’d hoped it had been part of hers. His body vibrated with bliss when she started naming off Canadian rock acts through the decades. As he said, a woman after his own heart.
    To her credit, when she learned his real identity, she did not move into false praise or gush mode. She stood her ground and voiced her opinion. His respect for her rose a few more notches.
    “It was a mutual decision. No acrimonious split. The guys took a vote and I respected their verdict.”
    They faced each other on the sofa. Kerri’s eyes softened in sympathy and understanding.
    “You weren’t part of the vote?”
    He shook his head. “I was the reason the vote had been taken in the first place.”
    He stopped, not sure he wanted to talk about his meltdown to a virtual stranger when he hadn’t even spoken to his parents about it in any depth as yet.
    She laid her hand on his arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. A torrent of hot flame moved though his body. Christ. It had been a long time since a woman had touched him, but Jesus, he’d never had that kind of incendiary reaction from the mere whisper of contact, at least not since puberty.
    “You don’t have to tell me anymore. How about a Pepsi? I’m going to have one.”
    He shrugged. “Yeah. And thanks.”
    Kerri leaned in and kissed his cheek. The shock of it resounded through his blood, heating it to the boiling point. He clasped her arms, not allowing her to back away. They were nose to nose. Fuck it . He captured her lips with his. He swallowed her gasp of surprise and delved deeper. Her response hardened his cock to the