Lost For You: Rockstar Romance (Sixth Street Bands Book 4)

by Jayne Frost

  “Good crowd, huh?” the DJ mused when he ambled up.

  Catching his arm as he pushed the curtain aside to make the announcement, I said, “I’ve got this one.”

  In all the years I’d owned the Parish, I’d never taken the stage. Not to make an announcement. Or to play. It was a line I’d never crossed. Until I did.

  Ignoring my brother’s look of surprise, I strolled across the weathered hardwood, chants from the crowd thundering in my ears as I stepped into the spotlight.

  What the actual fuck are you doing?

  The rage simmering under my skin answered the question as I shifted my focus to the VIP section. I couldn’t see anything beyond the colored lights, but they sure as shit could see me.

  “How y’all doing tonight?” I roared into the mic. “I’m Chase Noble, the owner of the Parish. It gives me great pleasure to welcome to the stage, Sixth Street’s own … Caged!”

  Beams of light swept over the audience in slow circles, and I caught sight of Taryn’s face. Surprise coated her features. I felt no measure of satisfaction, but I smiled nonetheless. That is, until I felt Cameron’s arm snake around my shoulder.

  “No, you don’t.” Laughing, he tightened his grip as I tried to give him a playful shove.

  “Hey guys!” he shouted, whipping the audience into a greater frenzy. “Give it up for the coolest bar owner in Texas and one helluva musician, my brother, Chase!”

  Frozen in my spot as the light show began a second revolution, my stomach clattered to the floor when I saw Taryn stumbling down the steps of the VIP seating.

  The magnitude of the clusterfuck snapped me out of my stupor, and my feet moved of their own accord. Fighting the crush of people in the pit, I spotted Taryn’s head bobbing in the sea of strangers.

  She ducked into the small alcove with the pay phones that nobody used. When I followed her inside, the weight of a large body shoved me out of the way.

  “Leave her alone,” Beckett spat. “She ain’t interested.”

  “Mind your business, dude. She’s interested.”

  I stopped short of telling the fucker how very interested Taryn was last night when she was under me.

  Beckett wagged a finger in my face. “She is my business. Now back off.”

  Before I could wrap my hand around his throat, Taryn slipped between us. “Go back to the table,” she said to Beckett. “Before someone figures out who you are.”

  Dropping a possessive hand on her hip, he sneered at me. “I ain’t leaving.”

  Taryn slanted a gaze his way. “This isn’t a date, Beckett. Tori wanted you here. Not me. Now go watch the show.”

  “You heard her,” I rumbled.

  But more importantly, I heard her. Taryn wasn’t here with Beckett.

  He hesitated for only a second before brushing a kiss to the top of Taryn’s head and stalking away. She didn’t notice, though. All her attention was on me, those stormy eyes filled with questions.

  “You’re Cameron Knight’s brother?” she finally asked, her brows pinched tight in disbelief.

  “Let’s talk someplace more private.”

  I took her arm, but she shook off my grip. “Answer me!”

  After a long moment, I let out a shuddering breath. “Yes.”

  The same word that held such promise when we were standing on that street corner put an end to us.

  “I thought we were friends,” she said as the tears gathered.

  Drawn to the first raindrop that fell onto her cheek, I took a step toward her. “We are. Of course we are.”

  Friends at least …

  Excuses danced on the tip of my tongue, but before I could offer even one, Taryn shook her head. “Friends don’t lie to each other.”

  Residual anger coalesced with the alcohol that had yet to burn its way out of my system. “Guess Beckett didn’t get the memo.”

  This time when I crossed the line, I didn’t feel the rush. Only regret when Taryn brushed past me and walked out of my life.

  Chapter 24

  Taryn

  I stormed to the table, fighting to keep my anger from boiling over and burning everyone in the vicinity.

  “I’m leaving,” I yelled over the music as I snatched my purse from the back of the chair. “I’ll take a cab.”

  Tori leaned forward, cupping her ear. “What?”

  “Leaving!”

  Beckett grabbed my wrist. “Give me a minute,” he shouted over the drum solo, eyeing the crowd with apprehension. “There’s too many people … I can’t …”

  I shook off his hold. “I didn’t ask you to.”

  Before he could respond, I dashed from the VIP area. The humid air hit my face like a blow dryer when I finally made it outside. Bypassing the line of cabs, I headed north. In a city the size of Austin, my entire life was limited to a three-mile radius. And maybe that’s why I couldn’t breathe. The air was tainted with every memory of any consequence. And Chase Noble just added to the swirling tornado of emotions.

  Chase is Cameron Knight’s brother.

  And why wouldn’t he just tell me?

  A horn blasted, and I looked around.

  “Taryn!” Beckett hissed through the open window of Dylan’s Hummer. “Get in the fucking car.”

  I waved my hand. “I’m fine. Just go.”

  Please go.

  “Get in the car, T-Rex.” Dylan’s tone held less bite, but urgency underscored his plea.

  It was then that I noticed a few people at the sidewalk cafe, eagerly taking in the show.

  Is that Beckett Brennin?

  Oh my God, Dylan’s driving!

  It’s Taryn!

  Chairs scraped the pavement as the casual observers abandoned their seats, inserting themselves into my private hell. Self-preservation kicked in, and I moved toward the Hummer.

  Beckett jumped from the truck, his body shielding me as he nudged me inside. “Really smart,” he growled. “You want to get us mobbed?”

  I scooted to the end of the seat, Beckett’s proximity irking me. “You’re going to get yourself mobbed. I didn’t ask for your help.”

  Dylan gunned the engine, and two minutes later he bypassed the front of my building and drove straight to the gate on the visitor’s side of the parking garage. If I thought I was going to get out of this without a major discussion, I forgot who I was dealing with.

  Dylan pulled the Hummer into one of my designated spaces and, without a word, he slid out of the truck and strode toward the elevator. Tori followed suit.

  “You just gonna sulk out here all night?” Beckett asked as he hopped out of the truck. “Because we all have keys to your place. You’re the only one that’s going to be sitting in the dark.”

  And this was my life.

  Gathering my resolve, I joined the trio in front of the infernally slow elevator.

  “That was some stunt you pulled,” Tori muttered as she stepped onto the lift. “I’m getting really tired of your personal shit interfering with my business.”

  My voice echoed off the metal walls as I followed her in. “And what about your personal issues, Belle? And don’t try to act like you don’t have any.”

  She muttered something under her breath, and I did the same. When the doors slid open, Beckett slipped an arm around my waist, digging his fingers into my side. “Out,” he coaxed. “We’ll discuss this in the loft.”

  The man with the attention span of a fruit fly was now giving me lessons on etiquette and decorum. Yeah, no.

  “Get off me, Beckett.” I shook off his grip. “You’ve got no dog in this hunt.”

  Dylan had Tori out of my reach, ushering her down the hallway. He shoved his key into the lock and then pushed open the door, yanking her over the threshold a second later.

  The boys had witnessed their share of fights between Tori and me in the past. The distant past. For five years I’d given in. But tonight, I was ready to hash it out. Because, come hell or high water, things were going to change.

  My rage abat
ed as I paced the floor in my loft.

  “I’ve already signed Harper,” I said. “If you want to keep punishing me for that, feel free. It was a business decision.”

  Tori tapped her finger against her knee impatiently. “I’m sure she’ll be a welcome addition to the team. Just like Caged.”

  On the imaginary scoreboard hanging over our heads, Tori and I each had one point. A dead heat.

  “They’re a good band,” I conceded. “No loss there.”

  Shifting in her seat, Tori settled against the cushions. “And … I want Chase Noble to join the team as well.”

  I didn’t blink, even when the ground shook as Beckett jumped to his feet. “No way,” he growled as he attempted to sidestep Dylan. “What the fuck, Belle?”

  “Calm down, dude,” Dylan said as he grabbed Beckett’s shoulder. “I told you, Logan said Chase is the best producer out there.”

  “I don’t give a fuck,” Beckett seethed. “Taryn isn’t going to manage the dude that used her to get his brother a shot. Is that what you want, Belle?”

  Tori said nothing as Beckett continued his objections.

  Tuning out the white noise, I crossed my arms over my chest in defense. From Tori.

  “We don’t need producers,” I said. “I’ve got that handled.”

  Tori sat back, assessing me with a frosty glare. “Obviously you don’t since you let Trent roll over you on the Leveraged project. We need a musician to oversee the tracks.”

  Dylan’s eyes found mine, beseeching. And since defending myself would only lead to questions I couldn’t answer, I dropped into my seat. “Fine, Belle,” I said. “If that’s what you want.”

  Ignoring the yawning silence, I glanced at my laptop on the dining room table. Inside, there were twenty or more offers from headhunters across the country. I never read them, just tucked them in my little electronic file. Because I never considered leaving. Until now.

  Dylan cleared his throat. “Do you have anything set up for this weekend?” he asked me as he took a seat next to Tori.

  “This weekend?” I croaked.

  I followed his gaze to the calendar on my fridge, where a big red circle marked the date for our annual pilgrimage down the Guadeloupe River. The spring float.

  “Maybe we should cancel this year,” Tori said quietly, and when our eyes met, I saw the girl behind the cloud of anger and discord. My best friend.

  “Of course we’re not going to cancel,” I said, grabbing a pen and paper from my backpack. “Has everyone confirmed?” Dylan nodded. “Then I guess I should start with tent assignments. Preferences?”

  Beckett sat up, suddenly enthralled with the conversation.

  “I’m with you, babe,” he said casually.

  I scribbled notes without looking up. “Nice try. You can sleep in Dylan’s tent, or bring your own. You’re a big boy.”

  He pulled me to his side, tickling my ribcage until I squirmed.

  “I am a big boy. That’s why you need to be sleeping in my tent.”

  Just talking about the trip cleared the air, and we were teenagers again. We’d done the float every year since we were freshmen in high school. Before the accident, it was a tradition. Now it was a tribute.

  The year after Rhenn died, Tori made her first trip down the river alone. The doctors had advised against it since her bones were barely healed. But I tied her tube to mine, and we made the journey together, with all our friends cheering us on.

  Overcome by the memory, I chanced a peek at Tori and found her staring at me with soft eyes. “I don’t care what we eat,” she said. “Or what campsite we stay in, as long as you and I are in the same tent. And on the same path.”

  Our lives were like that damn river. Always flowing in one direction, leading to the same spot. And if I had to change that, I didn’t know who I’d be. So I pushed aside any foolish notion about the file in my computer and went back to planning our trip.

  Chapter 25

  Chase

  The guys busted through the door of the dressing room, high-fiving and patting each other on the backs.

  “Do you know who was in the audience tonight?” Cameron asked me as he pressed a bottle of beer into my hand. “Of course you did. That’s why you made the announcement.” He narrowed his eyes in mock irritation while wagging a finger in my face. “You should have said something. We could have really fucked up. Lucky for you we’re ready for anything.”

  I winced inwardly, certain they weren’t ready for what I had to tell them.

  “Listen, Cameron—” I began, but his attention was diverted to the door when Laurel walked in.

  She was off the ground, scooped into Logan’s arms a second later. After swinging her around in a celebratory hug, he looked down at her in anticipation. “Did you hear anything?”

  “About what?” she asked, glancing at me out of the corner of her eye.

  Logan laughed. “Tori Grayson was sitting right next to you. Didn’t you see her?” When Laurel didn’t say anything, he added, “Dylan Boothe and Beckett Brennin were there too.”

  His smile melted when she looked down at her toes. “Oh, um … they left.”

  Logan’s arms dropped limply to his sides. “Left? When did they leave?”

  “About ten minutes after the show started.” She offered a hopeful smile. “Maybe there was an emergency or something.”

  The guys let out a collective groan as they digested the information.

  Sean sank into the folding chair against the wall. “Obviously, they didn’t like what they saw,” he said with a sigh. The brooding drummer usually kept his feelings to himself. But even he couldn’t hide the disappointment as he stared into his bottle of water. “Maybe we didn’t sound as good as we thought we did.”

  “Fuck that,” Logan bit out as he stomped over to the table to grab a beer. “We were tight. I don’t know what’s going on, but—”

  Wrangling his phone from his pocket when an old Leveraged tune echoed in the room, he said, “It’s Dylan,” as he headed for the door. “I’m going to find out what the hell happened.”

  Since I didn’t want to go through my confession twice, I decided to wait until he returned. I drained my beer, then poured a shot of Jack for good measure. When the stay of execution dragged on for several minutes, I fortified myself with a second shot.

  Infusing steel into my spine when Logan reentered the room, I braced for his anger.

  “Well?” Cameron asked. “What happened?”

  “It’s all good,” Logan said as he sifted through the cooler for a beer. “Tori liked what she saw so they didn’t need to stick around.”

  “What about Taryn?” Sean chimed in. “She handles the talent, right? What did she think?”

  “No clue,” Logan said as he eased onto the sofa. “I’m sure she’s fine. They’re going to draw up a ninety-day agreement, and then we’ll see how it goes.”

  When the chatter started up again, I poured another shot—my fourth? It was all blurring together.

  Cameron’s hand came down on my shoulder, and I almost jumped out of my skin. “We’re going to take this party over to Nite Owl,” he said frowning at what I could only believe was my sour expression. “Is that all right?”

  I shrugged. “Sure. Whatever.”

  Once we got to my loft, I grabbed a couple of beers and sank onto a chair on the periphery of the party with my phone in my hand.

  To text or not to text?

  Chuckling at my own joke, I dropped my head back. Even with the amount of liquor dulling my senses, I could still see Taryn’s face behind my lids, her sun shower eyes clouded with pain. Pain that I put there.

  Hours later, I cracked open a bleary eye when Cameron shook my arm. “We’re heading home,” he said, glancing over all the bottles on the table that I didn’t remember drinking. “Are you okay?”

  Fuck.

  A few beers and the kid was looking at me like …

  Sobered by the thought I couldn’t finish, I shoved to my fee
t and tried not to sway. “I’m good. Just a little too much cheer, I guess.”

  Logan strode into the room, zeroing in on his sister. “You,” he said, pointing at Laurel. “Upstairs.”

  Rolling her eyes, she pecked her brother’s cheek on the way to the stairs. I stayed upright long enough to wave at everyone as they left. Then I dropped back into the chair.

  My lids snapped open when Logan’s boots met the coffee table with a loud thud.

  “What?” I mumbled groggily, glancing around the empty room.

  He crossed his arms over his chest, glowering. “When were you going to tell us you’re fucking Taryn Ayers?”

  Taryn’s name on Logan’s lips swept away some of the haze. My mind raced for an excuse, and finding none, I let my head fall back.

  “Aren’t you going to answer me?” Logan asked, after a long moment.

  And say what? That even with everything that happened, I’d do it again if I had the chance?

  With the last thought swirling in my head, I hauled myself upright. “Who I fuck is none of your business, Logan.”

  Disgust curled his lip, and he looked away. “Do you know how long I’ve been trying to get this shit squared away with Twin Souls?”

  I rose on unsteady legs and walked to the kitchen to get something for my pounding head. “I know exactly how long, since I’ve been carrying the band while you work out your management issues. Let’s not forget how you got into this mess.”

  Bolting to his feet, he closed the gap between us in seconds. “Don’t lay this shit on me. You’re the one who jeopardized the bands future over a lay.”

  My fingers balled into fists, and I rounded on him. “It wasn’t like that.”

  Logan searched my face. “What was it like, then?”

  When I couldn’t find the words to explain, he shook his head. “Yeah, that’s what I figured.”