Resonance (A Golden Beach Novel)

by Kim Loraine

  “Yeah, yeah. You’ll all be crying in your tea with boredom without me.”

  She hugged her baby brothers, all three of them, even Riley who hated hugs. “Love you all,” she whispered, overcome by an uncharacteristic wave of emotion.

  As they drove the short distance to Parker and Garrett’s house, Valerie kept glancing suspiciously in her direction.

  “What?” Angela snapped.

  “You look weird.”

  “You look weird. Shut up.”

  Valerie rolled her eyes and sighed. “Thanks for everything you did last night.”

  She shrugged, uncomfortable with the idea that she was getting credit for something Donovan did. “You two are supposed to be together. You were both just too dumb to see it.”

  “I know. I’m so glad you weren’t afraid to call us both on our bull.”

  “It’s my pleasure.”

  Valerie pulled up to the curb and killed the engine. The rental van sat idling in the driveway, already mostly loaded with Garrett’s drum kit and the rest of their gear.

  “You ready?” Valerie’s eyes were bright, excitement radiating unchecked on her sweet face.

  “I’ve been waiting for this my whole life.”

  Angela gritted her teeth against the wave of nerves and unease as she hefted her duffel bag and guitar to the van.

  “Knock ‘em dead, Angie.”

  “Will do.”

  Angela tried to doze in the car, hoping to quell the nervous energy that had her heart racing. The East Coast leg of Violet Hour’s world tour was set to start the next evening with Panic Station as the opening act for the entire six weeks. Garrett drove the three hours from Golden Beach to Raleigh, North Carolina, surprising her by spending the entire time without uttering a word. Parker occasionally piped up, trying to dispel some of the tension in the van, but for the most part the trio sat in uncomfortable silence.

  “Broke your toe again?” Parker observed.

  “How’d you know?” She’d tried hard to walk normally and keep her clumsiness between herself, the shower, and Garrett.

  “Garrett told me.”

  “Garrett!” She slapped the back of his seat and laughed, until unease wormed its way back into her mind. How much had he told Parker? She needed to let this go and move past it. She didn’t do relationships and this was exactly why. No time. No energy for the drama around them. But Garrett’s continued silence was eating at her.

  “How much longer until we get to the hotel?” she asked Garrett, working to keep her voice normal.

  He cleared his throat and sat up straight in the driver’s seat. “Maybe thirty minutes.”

  She nodded and stretched. They had a long day of sound checks and interviews with the press about their album ahead of them. Her phone rang, startling Parker out of his light sleep next to her.

  “Hello?”

  “Angie, babe. It’s Marcus.” The sound of their manager’s voice always sent a flare of dislike through her. He was slime, but excellent at his job.

  “Hi, Marcus.”

  “You guys on the road? Aiden is waiting to meet you. He’s listened to a few of your demos and wants a sit down before you guys sound check.”

  Her heart jumped in her throat. Aiden Boyd, the lead singer of Violet Hour, People Magazine’s sexiest man alive two years running, wanted to meet them.

  “You there?” Marcus was chuckling on the other end of the line.

  “Yeah, yeah, sorry. When does he want us?”

  “No, not all of you. Just you, babe. He wants to talk about a co-write for the tour.”

  “What?”

  “Is that going to be a problem? It’s huge for Panic Station. It means a single with the biggest band in the world right now. We’re talking radio, music video, award shows, all of it.”

  Indecision grappled with the euphoric realization of the opportunity. Would the guys be okay with her writing without them?

  Marcus let out an annoyed sigh at her silence. Before he could chastise her, she blurted, “Yeah, I’ll do it.”

  “You’re damn right you will. He wants you to meet him at the hotel bar before sound check. One-thirty.”

  “One-thirty, got it.”

  “And, Angie? Hot, okay? None of this sweatshirts and jeans crap. You’ll be seen by press. Reel them in while you can.”

  He hung up without waiting for her response.

  “What was that about?” Parker eyed her suspiciously.

  “Um, I think I’m co-writing with Aiden Boyd. He wants to meet up with me tomorrow.”

  Garrett’s knuckles turned white on the steering wheel as he pulled off the interstate and headed into Raleigh.

  “That’s amazing. This is huge. Maybe they’ll keep us on for the international leg.” Parker was beaming, but she knew he wouldn’t be the one feeling left out. Garrett had always been touchy about songwriting. He’d always been the writer until recently.

  “We’re here,” Garret announced as he pulled into the valet lane at the hotel. “You guys go on and get us checked in. I’ll text the tour manager and get our stuff loaded into the bus.”

  Shit, shit. He’s pissed. She winced at the glare he shot her as she walked around the front of the van. His eyes bored holes into her back while she and Parker made their way to the concierge.

  She limped slightly as they headed to the elevator, keys in hand, and Parker smiled sympathetically. “Don’t worry, baby. He’ll get over himself.” He slung an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in for a hug.

  “I couldn’t say no right?”

  “No, no way. This is once in a lifetime.”

  He squeezed her tight again and the elevator dinged, announcing its arrival. As the doors opened, her mouth ran dry at the sight of Aiden Boyd. Tattooed, stubbled, pierced, and gorgeous, wearing his trademark bad boy smirk.

  “Oh, my God, is that?”

  “Aiden Boyd,” she breathed, trying to pick her jaw up off the floor.

  Aiden locked eyes with her, and she suddenly felt very self-conscious. He looked her up and down, his grin widening.

  “Angela Peters?” He cocked an eyebrow in question.

  “Um, yes. Yeah, that’s me.”

  He held a hand out and she took it, noticing a star tattooed on the first knuckle of each finger. “Aiden.”

  “Yeah, I know who you are.” Her face flamed at the hoarseness of her voice.

  He stroked his thumb across her knuckles. “Nice to meet you. We’re heading to the bar for a few drinks before our babysitter catches on. Want to join us?”

  She looked from him to Parker and back. Parker piped up before she could answer. “I’ll take the stuff up. You go and I’ll bring Garrett down in a few.”

  “I’m not really, um, dressed for a bar.” She looked down at her torn jeans, ratty T-shirt, and scuffed converse tennis shoes.

  “You look fantastic,” Aiden said.

  Aiden Boyd just said I look fantastic.

  She wasn’t usually reduced to a puddle of hormones around men, but Aiden had her star struck. He hadn’t let go of her hand and pulled her along with him. She cast a glance at Parker who just winked and waved her off.

  Oh, God.

  Chapter 4

  Garrett shivered as the chill in the air seeped into his bones. He wanted nothing more than to get checked in to his room and raid the mini-fridge before falling into the welcome oblivion of sleep.

  Forgetting this day would be the best thing for him. He’d never felt this way before. For the first time in twelve years, he didn’t know how to handle himself around Angela. As he stalked toward the warm lights of the entrance, he caught sight of her strolling into the hotel bar hand-in-hand with Aiden Boyd. Her cheeks were flushed and she looked as achingly beau
tiful as she always did. It made him sick to his stomach.

  “Fuck,” he swore under his breath as the sliding doors opened, and he walked into the lobby.

  Head down and eyes focused on the swirling pattern of crimson and gold in the carpet, he put one foot in front of the other in an attempt to avoid being seen.

  “Garrett!” she called, her voice light and easy, as if nothing had happened between them just a few hours ago.

  He turned on his heel and plastered on a look of platonic ease in hopes she wouldn’t see through him. It was a move he’d virtually perfected over the years.

  “Hey, stuff’s all loaded.”

  “Thanks. Um, Garrett, this is Aiden Boyd.” The adoration in her eyes as she glanced at Aiden made him uncomfortable. She never looked that way when she was with him.

  Aiden stood behind her, a self-assured, friendly expression on his face. “Hey, man. Nice to meet you.”

  The superstar held out a hand. It took all of Garrett’s energy to keep his cool and not go all fanboy on him.

  “You’re the drummer, right?” Aiden asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “Yeah.” Just the drummer, nothing else. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Come for a drink with us, Gare,” Angela pleaded.

  Part of him wanted to, but he couldn’t handle watching her fawn all over Aiden. He took a deep breath and shook his head. “Nah, I’m sure we’ll have plenty of chances for that over the next six weeks.”

  Waving them off, he collected his key and calmly walked to the elevator. As soon as the doors shut, the adrenaline caught up with him. A dull throb started in his head and his breaths came in rapid succession. The way she looked at that guy—like he was her entire world.

  Turning to face the back of the elevator, he placed both hands on the wall and let the cool metal radiate through his palms. This was the moment he had to choose what he was going to make of it. He could continue acting the part of spurned lover and ruin the band, or he could let it go—let her go—and they could follow the path to everything they’d dreamed, just like they’d always agreed.

  The elevator dinged, and he straightened up at the sound of a throat clearing.

  “You really need to get your shit straight.” Parker stood at the open door, one arm propped against it to keep it open.

  Garrett raked a hand through his hair. “I know. I’m working on it.”

  “There’s got to be more going on than you’re saying. I’ve never seen you torn up like this. I thought you said you kissing Angie was a mistake. You can’t be this upset over a co-write.”

  “I’m fine. You going down?”

  “We’re having drinks with the guys from Violet Hour in the bar. You coming?”

  He fought back the bitter taste in his mouth. “Nah, I’m gonna take the night to get my head right. Have fun.”

  Parker shrugged and walked into the elevator as Garrett left. Before the doors shut he called back to Parker, “Keep an eye on our girl, okay?”

  Parker winked. “Always.”

  A gnawing ache began in the center of his chest. Let her go, she’s not yours. The words sounded hollow in his head, but he knew she’d never break their pact, and she was right not to. They’d almost given in and look what it was doing to him. He was a fucking mess.

  Why then, did it hurt so bad to see her looking at Aiden that way? It only took a moment for him to realize Aiden was dangerous. He was different than the guys she’d been with back home. Aiden was kindred. He was where she wanted to be. He could be where she stayed.

  The sun woke Angela, pulling her from confusing dreams filled with Aiden and Garrett. She groaned and stretched, feeling markedly better than she had the previous morning. Glancing at the clock, she rolled her eyes. Why couldn’t she ever sleep past seven? She and Parker had stayed down at the bar with Aiden and the rest of the guys from Violet Hour until well after midnight. She should be fast asleep, instead her brain was flying a million miles an hour.

  After fighting with herself for a few minutes, she finally gave in and got out of bed. Grabbing her phone, she checked her schedule for the day. She had nothing until her meeting with Aiden at one o’clock. After that, it was sound check, wardrobe, makeup, press interviews, and a radio call-in about the album.

  A tingle of anticipation raced up her spine.

  The album. It had dropped at midnight while she and Parker were busy chatting with Aiden. She’d totally forgotten.

  She frantically opened her music app and typed in Panic Station in the search field. There it was, in all its surreal glory. Their self-titled debut. Her breath caught as she took in the cover image. She stood front and center, with Parker and Garret flanking her on either side. Her stomach flipped, and she jumped up and down while previewing each song. She’d heard the music so many times, sang the words, and recorded the songs for hours on end, but there was something special about hearing it like this.

  Her phone rang, interrupting her own voice in her ears.

  “Hello?”

  “Angie, did you see it?” Garrett’s voice sounded as if everything were back to normal. Excitement colored his tone and set her nerves at ease.

  “The album?”

  “That, and the single. In My Hour is top ten on iTunes.”

  “What? Holy shit!” Knees trembling, she sat on the edge of the bed but missed, crashing down hard on the carpet.

  “What was that?” Garrett asked.

  “Nothing.” Embarrassment crept up her cheeks in the form of a heated blush.

  “You fell off the bed, didn’t you?”

  “No.”

  “You’re such a liar.”

  She couldn’t fight the laugh that escaped. “Thanks for the call. I’m going down to the gym. What are your plans?”

  “Coffee.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Probably more coffee after that.”

  She rolled her eyes and grinned. “I’ll be done in about an hour. Can you wait for me?”

  “I don’t know. You know how I get when I don’t have my caffeine.” He was teasing her, but the idea that she’d have to wait until this afternoon to make sure things were right between them made her heart clench.

  “Did you call Parker yet?”

  “No, he’s not up. Just you and me.” The last words were almost a whisper over the line.

  “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

  “I’ll wait for you.”

  Her hands shook as she hung up the phone and the depth of what had just happened really hit her. Panic Station had a top ten song only hours after the album was released. The single had been out for a few weeks and had gotten some moderate airplay, but after the tour was announced, their label, Backbeat Records, upped the push for visibility of the song. It had worked.

  She grabbed her running shoes and pulled on her workout gear, grinning like a loon the whole time. This was it. They were on the cusp of fame, as long as she stayed focused and did what Marcus and the label wanted. She headed down the hall to the elevator, ponytail swinging and a spring in her step.

  Angela’s heart fluttered anxiously as she approached the hotel café where Garrett sat. Two large paper cups waited on the small table in front of him.

  “Caramel macchiato?” she asked, hopeful.

  “Nothing but the best for you.” He winked and pushed the coffee toward her.

  As she settled herself into the chair opposite him, the anxious feeling dissipated. His warm, brown eyes no longer held the hurt she’d seen yesterday. He was back to being the Garrett she could be normal around. If they could just move past the almost-sex they’d had, they could be Angela and Garrett, best friends, bandmates, and songwriters again. They were such a great team. No sense bogging it down with sex.

 
“So you . . .”

  “Did you . . .”

  They both began at the same time. She gestured for him to continue, taking a sip of her confection that was misleadingly called coffee. It was creamy, sweet, and sinfully delicious.

  “Did you have fun last night?” he asked.

  “Yeah, the guys are great. Aiden is awesome. I thought he’d be full of himself, you know? He’s not. He’s totally down to earth.”

  Garrett’s gaze fell, just enough for her to notice. Crap. She realized too late how hard he was trying to keep things normal.

  “Good. I’m sure you two will work well together since you like him so much.”

  Involuntarily, her hand grasped his across the table. “Garrett, I’m just writing one song with him. I’m not ditching you.”

  A small smile quirked his lips. “Well, don’t go falling in love with the guy, okay? I don’t think I could handle writing songs with you if I knew they were about him.”

  “I don’t fall in love. You know that.”

  He pulled his hand away and leaned back in his chair. “No relationships, no distractions.”

  His statement was clipped, edged with irritation, but she brushed it off.

  “Exactly. We’re so close to success. Nothing can get in the way. Not now.”

  Rhythmic tapping on the tabletop made it clear he was trying to distract himself. Anytime he was upset, frustrated, or feeling too much, he faded away into his own world for a fraction of time.

  “Gare?”

  The tapping stopped, and he lifted his eyes. “I get it. What time’s your meeting?”

  And just like that, the Garrett she’d grown to know was gone. She felt it like a punch to the gut. He had just slammed a wall down between them.

  “He wants to see me at one. I’ve got a few things I’ve been working on. You want to work on them with me before I pitch them to Aiden?”