Take a Chance - Chance #1 - Abbi Glines

Abbi Glines - Chance #1 - Take a Chance

Take a Chance (Chance #1)
Abbi Glines

Prologue

Grant

Why was I here? What was the fucking purpose? Had I gotten this bad? Really? In the past, I’d been able to shake her loose and walk away. Nannette had been my go-to fuck for years, but then she’d gotten needy. And I’d liked it. Somehow, she had managed to get under my skin. I had wanted to be wanted—I was that pathetic. My dad rarely called me; my mom had decided she preferred French models over me years ago.

I was screwed the hell up.

It was time I let this go. Nan had needed me for a time when she felt like she was losing Rush, her brother and safe place, to his new life with his wife and child. Not that Rush wouldn’t welcome her with open arms—it was just that she was such a bitch. All she had to do was accept Rush’s wife, Blaire. That was it. But the stubborn woman wouldn’t do it.

Mine had been the arms she’d run into, and like a fool I had opened them up for her. Now, all I had was a lot of damn drama and a slightly damaged heart. She hadn’t claimed it. Not completely. But she had touched a place no one else had. She had needed me. No one had ever needed me. It had made me weak.

To prove my point, here I sat in Nan’s father’s home, looking for her, waiting on her. She was running wild again, and Rush wasn’t coming to the rescue. He had hung up his Superman cape and decided his days of coming to Nan’s side were over. I had wanted that. As sick as it was, I had wanted to be her hero. Damn, I was a pussy.

“Drink, kid. Fuck knows you need it,” Kiro, Nan’s father, said as he shoved a half-empty bottle of tequila into my hands. Kiro was the lead singer of the most legendary rock band in the world. Slacker Demon had been around for twenty years, and their songs still skyrocketed to number one whenever they released a new album.

I started to argue but changed my mind. He was right. I needed a drink. I didn’t think about where the dude’s mouth had been when I touched the rim of the bottle to my lips and tipped it back.

“You’re a smart boy, Grant. What I can’t figure is why the hell you’re putting up with Nan’s shit,” Kiro said as he sank down onto the white leather sofa across from me. He was in a pair of black skinny jeans and a silver shirt, unbuttoned and hanging open. Tattoos covered his chest and arms. Women still went crazy over him. It wasn’t his looks. He was too damn skinny. A diet of alcohol and drugs would do that to you. But he was Kiro. That was all that mattered to them.

“You gonna ignore me? Hell, she’s my daughter and I can’t put up with her. Damn crazy bitch, just like her momma,” he drawled before taking a pull off a joint.

“That’s enough, Daddy.” The musical voice that was finding its way into my fantasies lately came from the doorway.

“There’s my baby girl. She’s come out of her room to visit,” Kiro said, grinning at the daughter he actually loved. The one he hadn’t abandoned. Harlow Manning was breathtaking. She didn’t look like a rock star’s kid. She looked like an innocent, sweet country girl, with long, dark hair and eyes that made you forget your fucking name.

“I was going to see if you