by Kim Loraine
He sat in the rec-room of their tour bus, attempting to distract himself from thoughts of Angela by playing a video game. It wasn’t working. He was almost thankful for the soft knock on the door as his character died, yet again.
Turning off the game, he called out, “Yeah?”
“Gare?” Angela popped her head in the room and smiled.
Damn, she was the last person he needed to see right now. Pulling himself together, he forced a neutral expression to his face. “What’s up?”
“Can you give this a listen? I’m not sure I get which direction the bridge needs to go.”
He didn’t want to. In fact, he wanted to tell her to go ask Aiden what he thought, but he knew that would be an asshole move. “Yeah, sure.”
She came in and sat down right next to him, her leg resting against his. Then she started playing and singing. The melody was light and haunting and so sweet his heart ached. He wanted to reach out and stop her, bring her lips to his and kiss her until she saw that he was the one for her. Show her that he would do anything for her. Wait, what?
“What do you think?” Her hazel eyes connected with his and sent shockwaves down his spine.
“I love . . . it. I love it.”
“But the bridge feels weird. Like it should change key maybe.”
He shook his head. “You’re over thinking it. It’s awesome. I’m sure Aiden will agree.”
A smile turned her lips up and brightened her whole face. Angela was one of those people whose emotions showed crystal clear. Her eyes smiled along with her mouth. He remembered when they’d first met, he had liked her immediately because of her smiley eyes. That, and her appreciation for The Beatles.
“Thanks.” She kicked her feet up onto the ottoman-slash-coffee table in the center of the small room. “So, what do you think of touring so far?”
“Surreal. It’s the only word I can come up with at the moment.”
“I know. And, we get to hang out with rock stars all the time. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of big crowds cheering for us. Plus, our album is selling out every night. I think we really are going to make it, Gare.”
“You might be right.”
Her phone rang, interrupting the first good conversation they’d had in days. She shot him an apologetic glance and took the call, excusing herself and sliding the door shut.
Hanging out with rock stars. It seemed to him she might be doing more than hanging out with Aiden. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and typed Aiden’s name into the search engine. His throat tightened and his stomach turned as he took in the pictures of Aiden kissing her in front of the hotel bar, her looking ridiculously sexy in a tight red dress, him looking like, well, Aiden Boyd. The headline read, Aiden Boyd Finds Love on Tour.
What-the-actual-fuck?
Angela answered her phone and grimaced as Marcus cleared his throat. “Angie, babe. How’s my favorite new artist?” His sleazy voice practically oozed out of the speaker on her phone.
“I’m fine, Marcus.”
“Good, good. So this thing with you and Aiden . . .”
“Oh, there’s not really a thing.”
“There needs to be.”
“What?”
“The media has latched onto it. He’s one of America’s most eligible men. He dates models, actresses, A-listers. For whatever reason he seems to be into you. We need that. The media has touted your tour to be a vehicle for romance.”
She was breathless. What was happening right now?
“Make it happen. We need photo-ops, dates, PDA. Ticket sales are through the roof, people want to see you together.”
“It’s only been three days.”
“Thank God for the Internet. Pictures spread like a wildfire nowadays. I’ve already talked to Aiden. He’s in. You guys keep it going for the duration of the tour.” She could practically hear him counting his imaginary money. “How’s the song coming? We want to get it recorded and out on iTunes ASAP.”
Her head spun. Aiden was in? What was he in for?
“Angie?”
“Oh, sorry. It’s just a lot to take in. Um, the song’s good. Almost done.”
“Good, get it in the show tomorrow. A real schmaltz-fest, okay?”
“Uh, okay.”
“Baby, this is gonna make you.”
“Yeah,” she murmured.
“I don’t care if you really date him or not, you need to make the rest of the world believe it. At least until the tour is over.”
He hung up without telling her goodbye, as per usual and, still reeling from the whirlwind conversation, she sank to the bench seat in the living area of the bus.
“What’s up?” Parker looked up from his phone with a quizzical brow.
“I think I’m dating Aiden Boyd.”
He frowned. “You think?”
“At least, that’s what the media says. Aiden told Marcus he was in. Whatever that means.”
“Hmm. And what do you say?”
“I like him.” She picked at her nails, chipping away the sparkling silver polish. “He’s hotter than hell in the summer.”
“Oh, yeah. That man is gorgeous,” Parker agreed.
“There’s definitely chemistry between us.”
“So?”
“So . . . I guess I’m dating him.”
Parker smiled and a feisty look crossed his chiseled features. “Look at you, whoring yourself out for fame and fortune. I’m so proud.”
She grabbed a tangerine from the fruit bowl and chucked it at him. “Shut up.”
He caught it and chuckled. “You’d better call your boyfriend and make sure he knows you’re dating.”
Her belly tightened with unease. They were stopping in a few hours at their next destination. With two shows back to back they got a rare two-night stay in the same hotel. What did that mean for her and Aiden? A date? Something more? Was he going to want a real relationship and all that entailed? She didn’t know how to do relationships, she’d never had one. Somehow, she realized that didn’t matter to Marcus, Aiden, or the American public.
Pretend or not, she was in one.
The bus pulled into the back lot of the hotel in Miami. Angela bolted off the bus, needing desperately to talk to Aiden and see where he was with this whole relationship thing. She’d spent the better part of the drive avoiding Garrett’s curious eyes, knowing he’d seen the gossip about her and Aiden. Her chest tightened with guilt every time he was near.
The sun was a sliver of orange fire against the horizon as she grabbed her bag and room key from the tour manager. She was hungry, needed a shower, and a good razor to tame the out of control hair on her legs, especially if she was going to be out on dates, being photographed.
Aiden was waiting for her at her door. Her body tightened at the sight of him. He wore the bad-boy rocker look well as he leaned casually against the frame. His worn jeans and a fitted Led Zeppelin shirt could reduce any woman to a puddle of hormones. God, he’s hot.
“Hello, lover,” he murmured.
She couldn’t help but laugh. It was so awkward. “This is weird.”
He stood and grinned. “I know. I’m sorry. Are you okay with it?”
She put her key in the door and let him inside. “I guess so. I mean, it’s not going to hurt anything that’s for sure.”
“Right. My image could use a boost for a while. My last . . . indiscretion did a lot of damage. Just for the cameras, okay? And at the end, I’ll cheat on you and leave you the heroine of the story.”
She arched an eyebrow skeptically. “Promise?”
He laughed. “I promise I’ll cheat on you like the dirty man-whore they think I am.”
A wave of relief washed over her. She hadn’t realized how stressed she wa
s at the idea of making things real with him. She could do a pretend romance without guilt. She needed to tell Garrett, as soon as possible, and get that out in the open so he didn’t think she was throwing him over for fame. No relationships—period.
Her stomach growled, filling the silent room with the startling sound. Laughing, Aiden took her hand. “I guess I should take you out to dinner. Our first official date?”
Throwing her bag on the bed, she set about hanging her outfits for the performances. “I’m definitely hungry.”
“I’ll call for a car. Can you be ready by seven-thirty?”
“Yep, gives me time to shave my legs and everything.”
He waggled his eyebrows at her. “You say the sexiest things.”
“You’re the one fake-dating me.”
“And don’t you forget it.”
The click of the door shutting behind him left her alone with her thoughts. She was pretending to date the sexiest man in America. How did she get here? Just a few days ago she was in bed with Garrett. Granted, they hadn’t slept together, but it had felt so amazing to be kissed by him. And touched. She shivered as the memories surrounded her.
Trying to push away thoughts of Garrett, she ran her fingers through her hair and pulled out a sexy skirt and a slightly scandalous cropped top. Go big or go home, girl.
As she waited for the shower to heat up she inspected her toe, the bruise was now an ugly greenish hue with purple blotches. Almost better. Gross, but better. She made a mental note not to let Aiden see that monstrosity and flushed at the memory of Garrett’s lips on her skin as he’d tended to her.
A shot of arousal raced through her, causing her breath to catch in her throat. She stepped under the spray of hot water and tried to wash away the feel of his hands, his mouth, his . . . everything. By the time she was clean, legs shaved and toweled off, she was more keyed up than ever.
Shit.
She slipped on her clothes and rubbed some lotion smelling of Japanese cherry blossoms onto her legs before blowing her hair dry. Coiffed and painted, she stepped out of her room feeling beautiful. A soft intake of breath from the door next to hers had her turning to face Garrett. His eyes were wide and hungry as he took her in. The look made her lips part and her heart hammer.
“Angie, you look . . .”
“Good?” she asked, turning around once to give him the full effect.
He cleared his throat and raked a hand through his curls. “Yeah. Wow. What’s the occasion?”
“Aiden is taking me to dinner.” Guilt hit her the moment the words left her mouth. She’d been so focused on his appreciation that she’d forgotten the real reason she was going out in the first place.
His focus lowered to the floor and he shut his door. “Can I walk with you? I’m going down to check out the pool, see if it’s big enough for laps.”
“Sure.” She couldn’t hide her smile.
The tension sat thick between them as they walked down the hall. When the doors opened on an empty elevator, he let her go in first and they stood in silence as the doors closed. Fourteen floors to go.
“You smell amazing,” he whispered.
“Thanks.”
She turned to face him, needing to make sure he was all right. She should tell him about Aiden now, but this was a conversation worthy of more than an elevator ride. Garrett took one step toward her and her heart raced at their proximity. Wanting to convince herself she didn’t want him, not really, she breathed him in and tried to steel herself against the answering rush of heat. His onyx eyes burned with emotion as hers met them. His mouth was inches away and a wave of longing washed over her as he licked his bottom lip and took it between his teeth.
“Fuck this, Angie. I can’t pretend I don’t want you.” His voice was hoarse and he closed the distance between them, taking her by the nape of the neck and pulling her lips to his.
God, he felt so good. His tongue pressed past her mouth and met her own, the passion between them almost palpable. Her fingers ran up his back and around his shoulders. She reveled in the warmth of his skin through the soft cotton of his well-worn T-shirt. Her phone rang in her purse, startling them apart.
She pulled it out and grimaced. Aiden had texted her saying he was in the car, waiting.
“Aiden is waiting for me.”
Garrett’s grin faded. “You can’t deny there’s something between us.”
“We said we wouldn’t do this. And we can’t do it now.”
“When? After he gets you what you want?”
“What we want. Not just me. I’m doing this for all of us.”
“Don’t do me any favors.” The thinly veiled meaning behind his words stung.
The doors to the elevator opened and she stepped out, sparing one glance back at Garrett. “I’m sorry.”
He stayed where he was, letting the doors slide shut and she turned, fighting tears as she walked to the waiting town car.
Chapter 8
Seven years earlier
Angela could swear the walls of Garrett’s basement were shaking as the last chord of their latest song sounded. His eyes found hers in a moment of synergy and they both started laughing.
“That was fucking awesome, you guys!” Parker shouted.
“I think we can really do it. We need to start recording some demos and trying to get some gigs.” Angela’s heart raced at the idea of really playing in front of people.
Garrett walked around his drum kit and put an arm over her shoulders. “We totally can do it. Hell, yeah.”
Her chest tightened as he squeezed her shoulder and she brought her gaze from Parker to Garrett. His lips were right there, so close to her. Pushing away the desire, she wandered to the old upright piano they’d all pitched in for. They’d purchased it from the church yard sale after months of saving. She started playing one of her favorite classical pieces and sighed when Garrett placed his hands on her shoulders and started a light massage.
“Hey, guys? I’m heading home. I’ve got a date tonight,” Parker called as he headed up the stairs.
“Later, man.” Garrett’s hands never left her back as she continued to play.
“Where are your parents?” She murmured the words, lost in the music and the feel of his hands on her.
“They’re gone for the weekend. It’s their anniversary. Jamie’s at my Aunt’s.”
She grinned as she thought of his little brother, only a few years older than her littlest brother, Simon.
His hands slid down her arms and she stopped playing, leaning back against his chest. Were they really going to start something now—finally? She wanted it. She wanted him.
“Angie . . .” he breathed against her neck.
She could feel the tremble in his fingers as he ran them over the skin at her wrist.
Turning to face him, she bit her lip as he lowered to his knees and brought his body between her legs.
“Don’t say anything. Don’t spoil it,” she whispered.
He closed his eyes and took a steadying breath as she ran a hand across his jaw. His fingers played along the collar of her shirt and up her neck to her lips. Her body tingled with anticipation as he brought his mouth a breath away from hers. The moment their mouths touched, she knew she would never be the same. Her heart pounded against her chest, out of control and making her dizzy.
She’d been kissed before, by a few bumbling jocks who thought that application of tongues was the only way to do it. This was different. Garrett’s lips were gentle, warm, and delicious. As his kiss deepened and her excitement increased, butterflies beat at her stomach, no longer light flutters of anticipation, but hard, insistent waves of lust.
His kisses became frantic as she pulled at his shirt and moaned into his mouth, “Garrett.”
He pulled her shirt o
ver her head and sighed as she did the same to his. As his hands roamed her bare torso, he slipped the straps of her bra down her arms and peppered light kisses to her shoulders. Goosebumps rose on her arms and an involuntary shiver ran through her.
This is it. I’m giving him my virginity.
The idea of sex had always scared her. Accidental pregnancy, falling in love, those were potential roadblocks in the band’s path to stardom. But here she was, ready to give it up to Garrett, hoping he felt the same way.
The sound of the door slamming startled them apart and she searched frantically for her discarded shirt.
“Who is that?” she hissed.
“No clue.”
Garrett tossed her shirt at her and snatched his from the floor as Parker came barreling down the basement stairs.
“Angie!” His voice sounded panicked.
He stopped halfway down the stairs, looking over the banister. She knew exactly what he saw. Glancing at Garrett’s bare chest, she felt the remainder of her ponytailed hair fall loose around her face. Her whole body hummed with adrenaline and embarrassment as she realized they’d been caught.
“What the hell?” Parker’s eyes were as wide as saucers as he stared at them.
“We . . .”
“It’s . . .”
She and Garrett spoke in sync, but Parker waved them away.
“We’ll talk later. Angie, I just drove by your house. There’s police, fire trucks, and an ambulance outside.”
Fear took hold of her gut. “Is my house on fire?”
Parker shook his head. “I think someone’s hurt. They’ve blocked off the whole street.”
Garrett put a hand on her back and she flinched away from him, not wanting anyone to touch her. “I’ve got to go home.”
