by Kylie Walker
HEARTS COLLIDE
Book 1 of the Infinity Prism Series
By
Kylie Walker
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Copyright © 2019 by Kylie Walker
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Kylie Walker holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Hearts Collide (Book 1)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty Five
Chapter Twenty Six
Chapter Twenty Seven
Chapter Twenty Eight
Chapter Twenty Nine
Epilogue
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Chapter One
He didn’t deserve to be a rock star.
Trevor Jameson leaned a hip against the bar and observed his friends and band members as they downed shots of whiskey and finished them off with loud cheers. His chest filled with warmth even as a deep restlessness claimed his body. He was edgy, off-center. His band deserved this. They’d worked themselves to exhaustion to get this far — endless hours on the road opening for bigger bands, even more, countless hours writing and recording music, promoting, booking gigs and finding time to sleep. They were all on their last leg. Maybe that was his problem: he was tired, spent, and too depleted to join in the jubilation of going on their first national tour as a front-runner band.
He pulled out a folded flyer from his front pocket. It was their official tour banner.
Infinity Prism- Hot Summer Nights USA Tour
Featuring frontman, Trevor Jameson
Roman Janovik - Drums
Lucas Smith- Guitar
Colton Adams- Bass
Asher Paulson- Keyboard / Backup vocals
Tour kick off Chicago, IL
He had folded and unfolded the flyer so much; it was nearly worn through at the creases. They were on their way. They weren’t just the warm-up band for the big guy's people paid big money to come see. They WERE the big guys. Now someone else would be opening for them, lubricating the crowd for the moment Infinity Prism, the band he had started ten years ago in an abandoned brewery, burst onto the stage in an explosion of lights and smoke and rocked a full house while making hand-over-fist cash for each minute he spent doing what he loved.
His band called for another round. They were celebrating the one-week countdown until their tour kicked off, and damn if Trevor didn’t wish he was in the mood to join in. Trevor turned away from the crowd and crossed his arms on the bar. The cover band rocking this dive was pretty good, would be better if he downed a few to get in the mood like his bandmates. But the thought of alcohol made his stomach churn. Memories played in the shadows of his mind. Some days, the memories were bad, really bad and usually popped up when he was supposed to be happy. Maybe that was the problem. He didn’t deserve to be happy, not after the things he had done. The Universe wasn’t shy about letting him know he was a piece of shit.
Or, used to be.
“Come on, man. Have a drink with me.”
Trevor turned to his best friend and band drummer Roman Janovik who gripped him on the shoulder and gave a squeeze.
“I’m good,” Trevor shrugged his friend off. “Yesterday’s hangover is still hanging around.”
“So.” Roman signaled to the bartender for a round. “We both know hard liquor is the cure for everything.”
Not true. Nothing took the shadows away.
“I said, I’m good.”
“Fine.” Roman grabbed an empty glass from the counter and thrust it into Trevor’s hand. “Then pretend. We wouldn’t be here without you and I can’t in good conscious get black-out drunk without one clink of the glass with you.”
Roman waited expectantly, trying to be serious but his boyish grin ruined it. He didn’t have a severe bone in his body which is why they had started the band together and managed to grow it so well. People talked about ying and yang, how friends could be opposites yet perfectly balance each other. That was them. Where Trevor was aloof and intense most of the time, Roman was light-hearted and easy-going, his calm manner acting as Trevor’s saving grace more than he could count.
“In that case.” He plucked the shot of whiskey from Roman’s hand, traded it for the empty glass and clinked the glasses together before tossing back the shot.
Roman frowned. “You shit.”
“Get over it.” Trevor signaled the bartender and ordered another whiskey for his friend.
His phone buzzed in his back pocket. He let the call go, turning instead to the crowd. The place was utterly packed now. He and the band had kept to themselves in a private back room, enjoying the atmosphere in anonymity. Not that they’d be mobbed probably. They weren’t that famous.
Yet.
His phone rang again. He pulled it from his pocket and hit answer without looking, annoyed that he couldn’t settle his mind for a few minutes.
“This is Trevor.”
“It’s Burt. We’ve got a problem.”
“We always have a problem.”
“Not this big.”
Avoiding Roman’s questioning gaze, he turned and headed back to the private room, shutting the door slightly to block out some of the noise.
“What is it?”
“The sound company we hired for the tour just filed Chapter 11. They’re out.”
“Tell me you’re kidding.”
The disgruntled sound on the other end of the line said this wasn’t a joke. Trevor clenched his fingers and took a hard breath. “We go on tour in one week, Burt. Fix this.”
They’d worked too hard to have a snag of this enormity right now. The flash of an SUV skidding across the road played in his mind like a little taunt. He held back the memory.
“I’m on it, Trev. I’ve got in a couple of calls and will feel out the options. I spoke to a Grant Pierce from Shark Productions today who said he knows you. Did some work for you a few years back. Ring a bell?”
“Not really, no.” He had worked with so many people over the years, none of them long-term aside from his band. “What’s his deal?”
“Reputable sound guy. Has some impressive references. Said he produced a show for you about five years ago in Los Angeles and he got in a fight with your drummer and you booted him out.”
Trevor groaned and looked to the ceiling. He remembered now. It hadn’t been just a fight; it had been an all-out blood-bath over a woman.
“Yeah
, I remember. Arrogant guy, bad temper, can’t hold his liquor or take a punch to save his life.”
“That’d be him. I’m going to be straight with you. He might be all we can get on such short notice, and he wanted to be upfront about what happened in the past so no one would be blind-sided. He does good work, so we need to take that into consideration.”
“Fuck,” Trevor ground. Shadows closed in around him, his band, no doubt pulled in by the tension in his voice. Roman mouthed, ‘what’s up?’ but Trevor waved him off.
“He’s going to stop by the studio tomorrow at three. All of you be there, without your grudges.”
“Understood. We’re moving forward, not backward. No matter what.”
Burt clicked off without another word. Aware all eyes were on him, Trevor slid his cell into his back pocket and kept it cool.
“So, what’s going on?” Roman crossed his arms.
Trevor gave a short shake of his head and slapped his friend on the shoulder. A memory tried to squeeze into his mind’s eye, but he clamped it off hard. There wasn’t any more time for the past or this damn guilt that followed him around everywhere. They had a dream to fulfill, a future to crush.
“Nothing, boys. Everything’s fine. Nothing’s going to stand in our way. I promise you that.”
Chapter Two
This couldn’t be real.
Emelia Greene hooked her reading glasses with one finger and slid them down her nose. The words on the computer screen became fuzzy, so she brought the laptop closer. Surely, if she looked at it this way, she would see she made a mistake.
But there was no mistake. The words were the same.
Infinity. Prism.
A shocked breath squeezed out of her as she lowered her computer before quickly rechecking the screen, just to be sure. No way could her favorite band have a contract staring back at her. No way could the hottest band ever be signing up to work with her boss.
She checked the email that had popped up in her inbox to be sure she hadn’t gotten it by mistake. Nope, there it was addressed to her with the contract attached. This was happening! Her boyfriend Grant’s sound and production company were going on tour with freaking Infinity Prism!
Pushing away from her desk, she put the laptop down and cupped a hand to her forehead. This was unbelievable. Sure, Shark Productions had worked with some big names. Grant had worked his ass off to make a name for himself and his business in a tough industry. But despite his excellent reputation, things had cooled off a bit as bigger bands found permanent production help, and the up-and-coming’s had trouble affording help at all.
Landing Infinity Prism had come at the perfect time! As the business’ accountant and business manager, Emelia was well-versed in the reality that the business was barely staying afloat. She had recently started looking for freelance gigs as a marketing and social media manager for musicians and artists, helping to keep bills afloat. The more she grew her little side gigs, the more she enjoyed it—even tossed around the idea of going solo full time.
She glanced at the stack of bills on her desk. Grant wouldn’t be able to manage without her. Guilt was a nasty bastard, rearing its ugly head every time she thought about ditching Shark Productions to work entirely on her own dreams. And now that he ha signed the band she secretly crushed so hard on, there was no way she was walking away.
Sneaking a look around to ensure Grant wasn’t going to walk in, she pulled up a few images online of Infinity Prism, focusing on frontman, Trevor Jameson. Her heart flipped as she scrolled through pics. God, he was as hot as ever. Ten years might have passed, but time did little to change him from the teenage Trevor she had known.
When he saw her again, would he remember her?
His soulful brown eyes bore straight into her, the thickness of his wavy dark hair begging her to run her fingers through it. She perused images of him on stage. His body was fuller, harder, more toned and cut, his thighs bulging perfectly in skinny jeans, his biceps killing it inside the sleeves of a white t-shirt. She let out a breath and closed the computer. This job was going to kill her. She’d crushed so hard on Trevor that year he went to her high school. He had been mostly indifferent to her, no surprise considering she had been a sophomore and he had been a senior. They had hung out at a few of the same parties, parties she’d gone to solely to hear him sing. But he would never noticed her.
And then tragedy had struck her family, and Trevor graduated and vanished out of her life. Until he’d shown up on the internet here and there, and then more often until he was suddenly everywhere as the lead singer with a voice the industry hadn’t heard before and a band that wouldn’t be denied.
Beyond his obvious sex appeal, she really fangirled on the band. Excitement welled up inside her as she leaned back in her office chair and glanced to the open doorway.
“Grant?”
She heard him banging around in the adjoining room, moving around his office furniture most likely. The office space they rented was small, too small for a man of Grant’s ambition. The rent was cheap for downtown Chicago, so they were stuck with it.
“Hey, Grant?” She called again.
“Christ, what?” His annoyed voice cut through her, but as usual, she brushed it off.
“Can you come here, please?”
“Why don’t you get off your ass and come in here? I’m busy.”
Emelia sighed, tempted to just do as he said to avoid an argument. He was testy sometimes, and she had learned over the past two years to simply follow along and placate him rather than work up his temper more. In the beginning, there’d been a lot she loved about Grant, but as the months went on, those things were a little harder to see.
“I’m also busy, babe. Just want to confirm that this contract with Infinity Prism is the real deal?”
There was a pause, followed by a grunt and the sound of something heavy sliding across the floor. Maybe she should be helping him, but she had her own work to do, and honestly, she was so distracted now that she wanted to jump out of her skin.
“Yeah, it’s the real deal. We’re closing the deal at a private party tomorrow night at their manager’s country house.”
She arched her eyebrows and put her legs up on her desk. The hem of her mini skirt drew up dangerously high, but she didn’t care. The tides had turned, and she hadn’t been this excited in a long time.
“We’re? As in, you and me?”
“Yes, and I expect you to wear something sexy. Damn, you know how to make a man feel better.” Grant appeared beside her, one hand gripping her bare thigh and running it to the apex of her legs. A bitter taste rose in her throat, and she burst forward, feet on the floor as she adjusted her skirt.
“Now, now,” she said with a grin. “You’re busy, and I have a lunch date with Chloe in a few.”
His hand closed around her knee as she tried to rise and held her in place. Putting one hand on either side of her chair, he lowered himself over her, trapping her against the seat. She leaned back on instinct, nearly topping the entire thing backward. “Grant.”
His lips grazed the side of her neck. She held still and allowed it, again to prevent an argument. But it wasn’t pleasant, not like it could sometimes be to feel his kiss on her skin.
“Too late. You teased me, and now I want more.”
The scratch of the stubble on his jaw was uncomfortable against her flesh. She turned her head away and shrank a little in her seat.
“I was just stretching my legs. Grant, I mean it. Not now.”
He burst away from her, pushing the chair back on its wheels as he did. Emelia gripped the side of her desk with one hand to keep from zinging across the hardwood floor.
“Whatever.”
He moved to storm out of the office, tension pluming up between them. They had too much work to do for hard feelings between them. Emelia stood and lightly touched his arm.
“Hey, why don’t you take a break and come to lunch with Chloe and me? You could use a break.”
“
I could use sex.”
She held back an eye-roll. “That’s dessert. You know, later.” She nudged him playfully. “Come on, come with me.”
“I can’t today Emelia.” Grant glanced towards the door. “I have a ton of work to do to prepare for the Infinity tour.”
She wasn’t completely disappointed that he wasn’t coming. “Well, that’s okay.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Somehow I’ll manage without you.”
“Yeah, I bet you will.” He gave her a small kiss on the cheek. “See you later.”
She watched as Grant walked out of the room. A breath escaped her, displaying just how tight her chest had been in the moments that had just passed. Each time Grant lost his temper, it reminded her that she had a decision to make about their relationship. The good times took over the bad most of the time, putting them back on neutral, loving ground and allowing her to forget whatever asshole thing he had done.
But she wasn’t going to think about that now. A renewed burst of excitement went through her. Opening the laptop, she took out her cell phone and inputted the contact number for Infinity Prism’s manager into her contacts. Just in case.
Just in case what? It wasn’t Trevor’s personal number, but close enough. Because maybe he would remember her. Perhaps, they’d find a renewed connection as past schoolmates. Maybe, friends?
She couldn’t pinpoint exactly what about him made her feel so inspired, hopeful. Content, even. Except that she didn’t have many connections to her past that didn’t remind her of the horrible thing that had happened to her family. When she thought about Trevor singing at those parties so many years ago, or at a school function or in a local venue, it reminded her that life had been normal, before.
Before the bad things.
Slipping the strap of her purse over her shoulder, she tossed back her waist-length hair and forced down the lump in her throat. She needed something really good in her life.
And it was going to be damn good to see Trevor again.
Chapter Three
“Look at these numbers. Ride the Tide is climbing the charts fast.”
