Deeper Than Dreams Read Online Free PDF

junior high, before prom, and for my wedding. It was only fitting, I supposed, that she work her magic now.
    â€œI hope I’m not taking away from any time you and Kevin had planned to spend together today,” I said, once Liz silenced the roar of the hair dryer. “Without going into gory details, how’s it going?”
    Her fingers danced along a section of my curls, separating them from the pack and pulling them poker-straight between the tongs of the flat iron. A hiss of steam escaped.
    â€œYour brother. Rocks. My fucking world.”
    I waited for her to throw out some sort of glass-half-empty statement about him living on the wrong coast, but it didn’t come. “So glad to hear that, Lizzie!” Unable to bounce up out of my seat and hug her, I just grinned to myself. I felt her happiness radiate above me as she held my head steady and straightened another section.
    Adrian kept us company, distractedly thumbing through the reviews. “‘Shockingly potent’ . . .” he quoted, “. . . ‘impossibly flawless,’ ‘rollicking, galloping guitar-play . . .’” He tossed down one rag and laughed. “They make us sound like bloody Clydesdales!”
    Kevin couldn’t resist leaving his post in the kitchen to come hear his idol wax poetic on the concert reviews . . . or tossing in his own adoring two cents. “Dude, like . . . when you guys busted out with ‘Plunder and Pillage,’ I was as happy as a little kid with a birthday party at Medieval Times, man. So righteous!”
    His fanboy fanfare had me laughing to the point that Liz had to stop working, for fear of burning my head as it bobbed with unbridled hysteria. She turned the threat of the tongs on Kev, to keep him from delivering his customary sibling knuckle punch to my arm in retaliation.
    â€œI loved that you guys threw down that old school Judas Priest cover, too.”
    â€œAh, ‘United’ wasn’t planned; I had just teased the lick a few times during the course of the show, which prompted Riff to channel his inner Rob Halford.” Adrian chuckled. “Then Sam and Jim just followed our lead.”
    As had the twenty thousand faithful. The sound of forty thousand feet, marching to the beat, had been jaw-dropping. I had no doubt the crowd, like little leather-clad lemmings, would’ve followed the band outside and marched right into the East River, had they been given the command.
    â€œWhat’s it feel like to have the world in the palm of your hand?” Liz asked; her eyes a glossy moss green as she blinked them in Adrian’s direction. Funny, this coming from the girl who wouldn’t trust him as far as she could kick him six months ago. I know she’d been doing her best to protect me, and to lock up her own jaded heart from further hurt at the time.
    Adrian narrowed his gaze to the pages in front of him, biting a smile back. “Madison Square Garden is hardly the world.”
    That’s when I heard it. Not the weary modesty I was expecting, that normally came with talk of his band’s once-upon-a-time world domination. No, there was a spark of something else in his scoff.
Like he’d just gotten the taste of a really good drug . . . again? And wanted more?
my brain suggested, but my heart sent a pounding summons for it to cease and desist inthat line of thinking.
    â€œAh, listen to this one.” He was holding up the
Muse
, unable to wait until after lunch, after all. “‘Whatever deal Corroded Corpse made with the Devil years ago, it’s clear the debt has been paid, and the Rotten Graves Project are worshipping kinder, gentler deities now. But don’t let their age and smiles fool you. Digger Graves and Riff Rotten are still lean, mean, well-oiled rock and roll machines, and they completely decimated Manhattan last night.’ Not bad, eh?”
    His eyes scanned the