Red haze mm rockstar x b.., p.1
Red Haze: MM Rockstar x Bodyguard Romance, page 1
RED HAZE
CAFFEINE DAYDREAMS
LARK TAYLOR
Red Haze by Lark Taylor
www.larktaylorauthor.com
Copyright © 2024 by Lark Taylor
Book cover design: Cate Ashwood Designs
Cover photo: Katie Cadwallader Photography, LLC
Betaread by: Charity VanHuss
Edited by: Kate Wood
Proofed by: Charity VanHuss
Paperback formatted by: Breathless Lit
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously.
References to real people, events, brands, organisations, establishments, or locations are intended to provide a sense of authenticity and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, organisations, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
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Warning
This book contains material that is intended for a mature adult audience.
SYNOPSIS
Everyone knows it’s a bad idea to crush on a straight guy. But when that man is also your bodyguard?
It’s just asking for trouble.
Arlo
Our rise to stardom might’ve helped me escape from the chaos that was my childhood, but that didn’t mean it was easy for me. Now, with fame and an almost unlimited bank account, you’d think I’d be happy. But I’m not. There’s no escaping the depression that dogs me or my past that refuses to leave me alone, no matter what I try. There’s no-one to stop the self-destructive spiral I’m caught in.
No-one, that is, until Jack.
As soon as the stoic man who looks like he could crush me under his thumb is assigned to me, I know I’m in trouble. Not only is he every one of my wet dreams brought to life, but he’s straight. Oh, and tasked with keeping me out of mischief.
What I wasn’t expecting was the friendship that followed. The way we would come to depend on one another.
When it’s all ripped away, can I find a way to exist without Jack at my side? Or am I destined to love someone I can never have?
Jack
After leaving the SAS, going into personal security seemed like the next logical step. Having been briefed on my client, the drummer for the rock band Caffeine Daydreams, I believed I’d be guarding some spoiled kid with more money than sense.
But as I get to know Arlo, I realise nothing could be further from the truth.
With the line between professional and personal blurring, Arlo quickly becomes the most important person in my life. When I have to decide between keeping him in my life or protecting him, I choose the latter.
I will always protect Arlo.
What I didn’t know was that the price I’d pay would cut me far deeper than I’d thought possible. Can I persuade Arlo to give me another chance? Or will I have to resign myself to just seeing him on my screen?
Red Haze is a demi-awakening, bodyguard x rockstar MM romance. The final book in the Caffeine Daydreams series, each book follows a different couple as they find their HEA. Although better read in order, these books can standalone.
For full content warnings, please visit my website: https://larktaylorauthor.com/content-warnings/
Dedicated to Mum - you’re allowed to ask me for spoilers.
It’s literally the perk of your daughter being the author.
CONTENTS
I. Before
1. Arlo
2. Arlo
3. Jack
4. Arlo
5. Jack
6. Arlo
7. Jack
8. Jack
9. Arlo
10. Arlo
11. Jack
12. Arlo
II. Now
13. Arlo
14. Jack
15. Jack
16. Arlo
17. Arlo
18. Jack
19. Arlo
20. Jack
21. Arlo
22. Jack
23. Arlo
24. Jack
25. Arlo
26. Jack
27. Arlo
28. Jack
29. Arlo
Epilogue - Jack
SNEAK PEEK AT DEVIL’S MARK…
Stalk Me
Acknowledgments
Also by Lark Taylor
About the Author
PART 1
BEFORE
ONE
ARLO
EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD – JANUARY
I was out of control.
I knew it. My bandmates knew it.
And now the press were starting to catch on.
Is Arlo Beckett the weak link in Caffeine Daydreams?
Caffeine Daydreams’ band members cancel gig after drummer Arlo is a no show once again.
Where is Arlo Beckett?
Luca had text me the headlines, one after another. They were still coming through, the thunderous vibration of my phone like a pneumatic drill in my skull.
Fuck. I’d known the Jägerbombs were a bad idea, but I’d done them anyway.
My phone buzzed again and I shoved it under my pillow with a curse. Who knew how real those headlines were? Luca could have made half of them up.
His point had been made though. My antics were affecting the band.
And they’d had enough.
I closed my eyes, desperately willing my head to stop spinning. I hadn’t meant to get that drunk. Hadn’t meant to miss another gig. Hadn’t planned on any of this, if I was being honest.
But, really, could you blame me? Six months ago, I’d been little more than a fuck up from a council estate. The only bright moments in my life had been the times I spent with Kai, Silas and Luca. The band had saved me. Kept me sane and given me an escape.
Even so, I’d been counting down the days until I could escape. I’d had a shitty job at the local cafe since finishing school. Working every shift offered, I’d been saving hard. The plan had been to leave as soon as I had enough to move out of the shithole I lived in. Not my home. Home implied safety. Security. Happiness.
The house I’d grown up in had had none of those things.
Before college, before the band, I’d been a loner. I’d lived with my head ducked down, hiding behind my curls.
I’d heard the whispers at school. I’d known how they saw me—quiet, unapproachable, a freak who liked to camp in the woods on his own.
Well they would have camped out there too, if they’d known what the alternative was.
The truth was far less interesting. In reality, I’d been just keeping my head down and counting the days until I was free.
My saving grace during those lonely years had been the music practice rooms. I’d found my peace there thanks to my form tutor. After many failed guidance counselling sessions about what my future might look like, she’d decided to take a different tack.
“Pick an instrument,” Mrs Muir had said, unlocking one of the practice rooms, her tone brooking no nonsense. “If you can’t choose a career, maybe you can find something here to keep you occupied. You never know, it might end up being your salvation.”
She’d been right. It did become my salvation. Especially when I started my music GCSE and landed myself with free drum tuition.
Still, I hadn’t expected it to help me find my purpose. Thousands of kids learned drums every year, but it wasn’t something you could make money from. Not enough to escape.
At least, that’s what I’d thought.
Then something seemingly insignificant had happened. My tutor group was dragged to a local college open day.
Going on a college open day was pointless. College didn’t feature in any of my future plans. Why would I bother with more education? Sure, it might get me a higher salary in the long run, but that was pointless when I needed money now.
The faster I got it, the faster I could leave. Start somewhere afresh. Leave the estate behind me and never fucking look back.
I lagged behind the rest of the group, not even pretending to pay attention to the overly chirpy sixth former assigned to take us around.
I couldn’t say what made me look through that particular window. Did one of them laugh, maybe? Or walk past the door, casting a shadow that caught my eye?
Or was fate just throwing me a bone? Giving me something after a lifetime of shite?
It was a perfectly normal sight. Two boys bantering as they pulled guitars out of cases. A third with a fierce look of concentration on his face as he adjusted the mic to his height.
And behind them, an empty drum set.
My heart began to beat faster in my chest, my fingers already starting to tap quietly against my legs. Were they waiting for their drummer? Or did they not have one?
For some rea
Friends.
I hadn’t had one of those in a long time. Not since I’d made the mistake of inviting Martin round to mine for a playdate back in primary school.
Until then, I hadn’t realised how…unusual my home life was. Didn’t realise that I’d be opening myself up to ridicule.
But by breaktime the following day, I knew both of those things to be true.
These boys though…they didn’t look stuck up. I didn’t know if it was the knock-off cola that the guitarist was drinking. Or perhaps the way the singer’s grey socks could be seen through the hole in his trainers.
I didn’t know what it was, but I felt like maybe they’d understand me.
Then the blonde guitarist flicked his hair back and caught me staring through the glass.
I swallowed as I met his gaze, picking up on the things others might have missed. The way one side of his mouth was more swollen than the other. The blue patchiness around his eye, like he’d covered it with make-up but accidentally wiped it away.
I’d done that before. Fortunately, no one ever looked at me long enough to notice.
Broken souls recognised each other. I didn’t know that then, but I knew it now.
The guitarist had also been broken. Perhaps in similar ways to me.
That thought alone had been enough for me to open that door and change my life forever.
“Hey,” I’d managed to choke out. “Are you looking for a drummer?”
And that, as they say, was that.
We’d had two years of playing in pubs and busking on street corners. Then, six months ago, the unimaginable had happened.
A clip of us had gone viral online. Overnight, we went from four guys playing whatever gig we could get to opening up for bands whose posters covered our walls.
Luca and Kai had always dreamed this might happen. Luca especially. I think he’d seen something special in us that the rest of us had missed.
Me and Silas though? We’d just been using the band to get us through. A safe haven in the storm of trauma that was our everyday lives.
Neither of us had imagined this. Before that video, I hadn’t even had a bank account. Now I had one with so many zeros I’d almost fainted at the cashpoint when I’d stuck my card in to check.
So, could you really blame me for behaving this way? I was eighteen, for fuck’s sake. Not only was I finally out from under my family’s thumb, I had money. Something that was once such a precious commodity seemed to be sprouting out of fucking nowhere with no signs of stopping.
My phone fell silent.
Finally.
My eyes drifted closed as I slipped back to sleep.
I was dreaming of sitting on a wall, staring out at the sea.
The sea was quiet, gentle waves brushing along the shore. I often dreamed of it, which was strange as I’d never actually been to the seaside. Wasn’t like my parents were much for family holidays.
But I imagined it was peaceful. Calm. That was how it felt in my dreams, anyway. Here, no one demanded anything of me. There was no one lurking in the corner, waiting to shred me with words or fists. No one was expecting me. No one was waiting on me.
It was just me and the sea.
Something cold and wet hit my face.
“Whaffuck!”
“Count yourself lucky it was just a wet flannel.”
Luca.
“He did fill the washing up bowl using the cold tap, but I told him that was just cruel.”
Silas.
And if Silas was here, Kai would be too. One never went anywhere without the other.
Lifting the offending material off my face, I peeled back my eyelids to glare at Luca. Not sure how effective it was given I could barely focus on him with the way my room was spinning, but I gave it a good go. “What’s your problem?”
“What’s my problem?” Luca’s now-famous voice rose in incredulity. “My problem, dickhead, is you.”
“Fuck off.” I grabbed a pillow and put it over my head.
Someone—Luca, I assumed—tried to yank it away, but I held fast.
“Guys, lemme talk to him. Alone.”
Both Luca and Kai protested, but Silas was insistent.
The door closed before the bed dipped and shifted next to me.
“Just us now, Arlo.”
With Silas, I knew I didn’t need to hide. I pulled the pillow away, blinking back tears. “I keep fucking up.”
“You do.”
“I’m a mess, Silas.”
“I know.”
I twisted to look at him. Our chilled-out bassist was lying with his head on the pillow beside me, looking more attractive than anyone had the right to. It was no wonder Kai was so hung up on him, despite the fact that he was the only straight one among us. He had this whole Californian surfer vibe going on, a smile rarely far from his face.
He wasn’t smiling at me now. There was a haunted understanding in his eyes that had me wanting to hide my face again.
“Everything’s changed so fast,” I whispered. “I’ve spent my whole life waiting for a way out, and now…”
“And now you can’t cope with it,” Silas finished for me. “I get it. I feel the same.”
“You do?”
I didn’t know the gritty details about what Silas had been through, just like he didn’t know mine. From the hints he’d given, I suspected our experiences were similar. Tiptoeing around drunken parents. Praying they’d decide to use each other as punching bags rather than you. Rummaging in the bins behind school in the hope the kitchen might’ve thrown out something edible because the fridge at home was bare. Being told repeatedly that you’re a failure.
Weak.
Worthless.
Unwanted.
“Of course I do, Arlo. I can’t escape it. Wake up most nights thinking I’m going to find Frank standing over me again.” Frank was Silas’s deadbeat sperm donor. “And every time my doorbell rings, I imagine it’s someone coming to tell me this is all over.”
I goggled at him. I’d had no idea he’d been dealing with all of that. Feeling the same fear that had been dogging me. “You don’t show any of it. How? How do you…cope?”
“I have Kai,” he said simply. “He keeps me grounded. Plus, I just remind myself that even if I lose everything else, I won’t lose Kai.”
The certainty in his voice had a sudden lump forming in my throat. What was it like to have that level of confidence in someone? To know they’d have your back no matter what?
I’d never had that. I doubted I ever would.
“You’ll find that person for you,” Silas said, squeezing my hand like he was reading my mind. “Until then, you need to remember you’ve got us.”
“For how much longer though?” A tear leaked free and I swiped at it furiously. “I think I’m broken, Silas. I don’t know how to be happy. All I know is that I can’t keep pulling this bullshit. I’m letting you down. I’m letting our fans down. Maybe I should leave now. You can replace me with someone stable. Someone who’s not a fuckup.”
Silas stared at me for a few minutes before laughing. “Oh my god. You’re such a fucking moron.”
I huffed out a breath. “True, but rude.”
Silas ignored me, already at the door and bellowing for our bandmates to join us.
“Ouch,” I moaned, rubbing at my head.
“No sympathy,” Luca said with a glare as he rejoined us. “You’re the one who was idiotic enough to drink himself into a stupor.”
“It’s legal,” I muttered.
“But it’s not smart,” Kai added in a gravelly voice, folding his arms over his chest.
“He’s not smart,” Silas said, a note of triumph in his voice. “This utter fuckwaffle is intentionally sabotaging himself to get thrown out of the band.”
