by Kim Loraine
“Are you sure?” He was skeptical, it was written all over his face.
“Yes.” As sure as she could be anyway. Aiden’s mixed signals were something she’d have to deal with. The original plan was still in place, as far as she was concerned.
“Why are you so close around us if it’s all for show?”
“No one can know. If it gets out that we’re faking it that would ruin the image. You can’t say anything.”
He ran his hand through his hair and started tapping out a rhythm on the tabletop. “Fine.”
“We can’t do this.” She motioned between them.
His head snapped up and he locked eyes with her. “Do what? Be together?”
“Right. Nothing’s changed. There’s a reason we agreed never to date. It’s not good for the band. It’s not good for us.”
“That’s a cop-out. You’re scared. You can feel it between us, too. We’re good together. How do you know it would be a distraction? What if it makes us even better?”
He was right, she was afraid. She was terrified that things would end badly, and she’d lose him forever. She was never as good as when he was there. She didn’t know what she’d do without him.
She shook her head. “No. I’m saying no, Gare.”
He stood and walked over to her, dropping to his knees. Eyes blazing with a fierce intensity, he took her hands into a tight grip. She couldn’t control the erratic beating of her heart at the contact. What was he going to do?
His voice was rough with emotion. “I’ll wait. I’ll wait for you to figure it out.”
“You’ll waste your life waiting for me.”
The hurt that passed over his face broke her and she almost took her words back. A deep sadness filled his eyes and slumped his shoulders.
He pressed a kiss to her forehead and unlocked the trailer door. With a soft click the door shut and he left her alone.
Angela’s phone buzzed as another social media alert came through. She sighed and made a mental note to disable her notifications. As the days turned to weeks, the tour rolled on, and with it so did Panic Station’s notoriety. Her Twitter followers had quadrupled since the tour kicked off and Marcus was foaming at the mouth for more. She didn’t know what else she could do. Each night ended with Aiden’s romanticized performance with her, passionate kisses on stage, and more feeding of the PR beast.
She’d done a good job of avoiding Garrett since their last conversation, convincing herself that letting the wounds heal on their own would be best. They had four days off in between shows, two for travel and the other two for play. Unfortunately, she could only avoid Garrett for so long without Parker butting in, and Backbeat had made it abundantly clear that all of her playing would be done with Aiden.
Needing a moment of calm, she lay quietly in her bunk, curtains drawn, Chopin playing through her earbuds. One of her favorite ways to relax was to pretend she was at the piano. The slight sway of the bus and the murmur of other voices around her fell away as she mimed the key strokes along with the music. Eyes closed, she started falling into the twilight of semi-consciousness.
Her phone rang in her ears. Heart pounding, she answered a little too harshly.
“What?”
“Angie? You okay?” It was her sister, Valerie, such a welcome and familiar voice.
“Sorry. I drifted off and your call shocked me awake.”
“It’s two in the afternoon.”
“Which is bedtime for us touring rock stars.”
Valerie laughed. “Corrupted already?”
“Just a little.”
“So, I’ve got news.” Valerie’s voice barely contained her excitement.
Angela tensed. “Did Donovan knock you up?”
“What? No. He proposed.”
“He did? Wow, that’s kind of fast, isn’t it?”
She could almost hear the smile leave her sister’s voice. “Gee, thanks.”
“I . . . it’s just, you guys only just got back together.”
“It’s right. I know it.”
Angela sighed, remembering the love for her sister in her friend’s eyes. “I’m so happy for you. I’ve known you guys belonged together from the beginning.”
“Speaking of, I’m surprised to see you splashed all over the Internet with Aiden Boyd. Damn, he’s hot.”
A twinge of guilt twisted in her stomach. “That he is.”
“Why didn’t you tell me there was something between you? I had to find out from Mom of all people. She says you’ve been ignoring her calls, by the way.”
Remorse flooded her. She’d been sending her mom’s calls straight to voicemail. For some reason, lying to the public was just fine, but lying to her mother? That was a line she hadn’t been prepared to cross.
“It all happened very fast.”
“Hmm.” She didn’t sound convinced. “Well, you look good together. Plus, I’m sure it’s not hurting your album sales.”
“We’re top ten and climbing. I feel like some kind of poser though. Most bands struggle and pay their own way for years and they never really make it. This all seems a little Cinderella to me.”
Valerie scoffed. “Uh, you guys have worked for this for twelve years. You’re so talented. You all deserve this.”
“I guess. I mean, we do. We did work hard. It just seems wrong to ride the coattails of Violet Hour so we can have success.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s how it’s done.”
Angela shifted onto her side and picked at a frayed string on her blanket. “Yeah.”
“Oh, guess what. Grace had her babies!”
She smiled sadly thinking of Grace McConnell. She’d gone through so much over the last few years after losing the man she loved. John Oliver had been a well-loved member of the Golden Beach community. The firefighter’s death in the line of duty had shaken the town to its core and shattered Grace. She’d had to take a job in England to help her move on. That’s where she’d met Drew. Angela sighed, remembering their beautiful wedding. Grace had gotten her happy ending after finding Drew, and now she was a mother.
“And? Names? Pictures?”
“Identical girls. Eloise and Evelyn. They’re so cute. I’ll send you pictures.”
“Tell her congratulations from me, okay?”
Her sister made a mmm-hmm noise and took a deep breath. “How’s Garrett?”
“What do you mean?” Alarmed, she tried to sit up and slammed her head into the bunk above her. “Ow, shit.”
“You okay?”
Not really. She lay back down and rubbed at her head where a knot was already forming. “Yeah, I hit my head.”
“I swear, you need to be wrapped in a bubble.”
“Shut up.”
“So, Garrett?”
“Yeah, he’s good. He doesn’t like Aiden much, but in his defense, Aiden’s nickname is douche-throb.”
“What?” Valerie burst out laughing.
“You know, he’s a man-whore, serial dater, cocky.”
“Is he a douche?”
“Nah, he’s great. I think that’s all an act.”
Valerie was silent on the line for a moment and then sighed. “He’s not who I pictured for you, but if you’re happy then I am, too.”
“I doubt anyone pictured Aiden Boyd as the man for me, Val.”
Valerie snickered. “Isn’t that the truth? Mom’s worried about you losing your virtue to this rock star Casanova by the way.”
Angela almost choked on her laughter. “My virtue?”
Her sister laughed harder on the other end of the line. “I know, I didn’t have the heart to tell her you lost your virginity before I lost mine.”
“Well, tell her I definitely haven’t given him my virtue.”
>
“Okay, but you better tell me when you do. I bet he’s amazing. All that yoga he does.”
“How do you know he does yoga?”
“The Internet. When you come home I’ll teach you all about it.”
Angela bit back a laugh. The idea of her sister researching and harmlessly lusting after her fake-boyfriend was amusing and a little sick.
“You’re grossing me out now. Congratulations on getting engaged. I love you guys.”
“Love you, too. We’re coming to the show in D.C. in March. Backstage passes?”
“Of course. See you soon.”
They hung up and her head gave a throb. All that yoga. Aiden was undeniably hot and she’d thought about releasing some tension with him, but that would cross the invisible line they’d put up. Fiction versus reality. And then there was Garrett and his heartfelt confession, his determination to win her heart. Her conflicted feelings about Garrett, Aiden, and her life in general made her chest constrict.
“Fucking hell,” she muttered, flinging the curtains away and sliding out of her bunk.
“You all right down there?” Parker was in the top bunk in the row across from hers. One leg dangled carelessly as he flipped through a romance novel Valerie had sent with them.
“Fine.”
He arched an eyebrow.
“Conflicted,” she admitted.
“About?”
She grabbed at a lock of her hair and started twisting, uncomfortable. “I can’t say.”
“You need to get laid.”
A bark of laughter escaped. “If only it were that easy. I think that would screw everything up even more.” He was right though, she was in need of some kind of release. Her hormones were raging from all the kissing she was doing. She needed a cold shower . . . something to keep her from slipping into the bunk above hers and doing exactly what Parker suggested.
Chapter 11
Four years earlier
The warm summer sun beat down on Garrett’s shoulders as he waited for Parker to return with their beers. Coming home from college for the summer always relaxed him. He could count on reuniting with the band, with his friends. But this year his homecoming felt different—disconnected.
“So, who is this Donovan guy Angie keeps talking about? Is she dating him?” Garrett tried to appear relaxed, casual, and not affected by her infatuation.
Parker choked and spluttered on his beer. “Ha! Donovan wishes. Angie’s not really dating anyone. You know her. She’s focused on the band, man.”
“They’re just friends then?”
“Yeah. From what she told me, Donovan tried something on her once when they first met. She put him in his place and they’ve been in the friend zone ever since.”
His jealousy backed off and settled in his subconscious. He felt like a hypocrite. After all, he hadn’t exactly spent all of his time alone at Berklee. The difference was, there had never been potential for anything serious with anyone he dated. He needed to know Angela wasn’t going to fall in love while he was away. All he had were these summers with her, at least until he graduated. The idea of her with someone made his chest ache.
“They’ll be here in thirty minutes,” Parker said, glancing at his watch. “He’s been, uh, practicing with us since you’ve been gone.”
Garrett’s jaw dropped. “He’s been playing my drum kit?”
His friend shook his head. “Whoa, no way. Angie’s been strictly playing keys so we’ve got some sort of percussion. Donovan plays guitar.” His eyes focused on the floor before he added softly, “He sings and they’ve been writing some new stuff, too.”
“Are you kidding me? We’re a fucking trio.”
“Chill the fuck out, dude. He’s just been filling in while you were off becoming a musical genius in Boston. The guy’s a firefighter. He’s too busy to be serious about the band.”
“At least tell me he’s not very good.”
Parker shrugged and tipped back his beer. “I would if I could.”
“Damn.”
They sat on driftwood logs positioned around the edge of the small patio. Parker’s beach house was fucking amazing and Garrett found himself wishing he wasn’t so far away most of the year. As the warm summer breeze brought in the salty air of the ocean, he closed his eyes and soaked up the familiar scents of home.
“Ah, the prodigal son returns, again.” Garrett startled at the warm feminine whisper in his ear. He had to fight off the urge to grab her, wrap her in his arms, and press a kiss to her lips. What was wrong with him?
“I heard you just couldn’t hang without me,” he teased, blinking in the bright light of the sun as she stood over him, a dark shadow with long hair blowing in the wind.
“How was your flight?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Uncomfortable, bad food, and I had an old man next to me who kept offering me questionable mints.”
“So, awesome then?”
He laughed and stood, giving in to his urge to touch her. After crushing her to him, he counted to three, then let her go.
A throat cleared behind her, making him look up. There stood Donovan Miller—a fucking GQ cover model. The man had a chiseled jaw, covered in cultivated stubble, even through his shirt Garrett could tell Donovan had more muscles than he and Parker combined.
“Gare, this is Donovan.” Angela’s introduction was unassuming and friendly, as if she regularly spent time with cut firemen.
The two men shook hands, then Parker handed Donovan a beer.
“Nice to meet you, Garrett. Angie talks about you all the damn time.”
Garrett shot Angela a cursory glance and fought back a chuckle at the mortification on her face. He inwardly heaved a sigh of relief. Maybe he didn’t have anything to worry about after all.
“Donovan invited us to a barbecue tonight at his friend Sully’s place. You guys want to come?” Angela plopped down on the makeshift bench Garrett had been using and looked at him, patting the space next to her.
His arm brushed hers as he sat and she leaned a fraction of an inch closer to him. Looking into her eyes, how could he refuse? “I’m in,” he offered.
“Yeah, sure. I’ve got nothing better to do.” Parker stretched and yawned.
“Awesome.” Donovan winked at Angela, making Garrett tense as a wave of uninvited jealousy spread through him. “Sully’s place is a little farther down the beach. Bring your instruments, we’ll want to jam when the sun goes down.”
Several hours later, Garrett stood with his back against a tall oak tree sipping a beer and watched a group of off-duty firefighters as they collectively manned the grill.
He heard Angela’s sharp intake of breath and laughed when he found her stare locked on John Oliver. She’d harbored an unrequited lust for John since junior high. It would have bothered him if John hadn’t been completely unaware of Angela’s existence. The man was ten years older, and practically married to Grace McConnell.
“Donovan? Where’s Grace tonight?” she asked, clearly trying to keep her cool.
“Oh, she’s got some work thing. Couldn’t get away.” His face lit up. “Hey, your sister, Victoria, is her new assistant, right?”
“Valerie,” she said, flatly. “And yes. She’s so excited to work with Grace.”
Donovan nodded absently. “Gracie is a great girl.”
Wanting to extricate himself from their conversation, Garrett headed to the cooler in search of another beer.
As the night wore on, they integrated with the bawdy firefighters, until the group was crowded around the fire pit, singing songs, and laughing together.
As Sully snagged Garrett’s guitar and started the familiar opening chords of “Hotel California”, Donovan elbowed him.
“I’m not taking your place, man.”
&n
bsp; Garrett nodded as he watched Angela begin to sing in harmony with Sully and John. As much as he wanted to believe Donovan’s assurance, the easy way Angela had with him made Garrett uncomfortable. This was exactly the kind of situation he’d been worried about when he’d decided to go away to school. One day, they’d replace him. Or worse, she’d find someone better and he’d never get another chance with her.
Clearing his throat, Garrett shrugged and put on an air of nonchalance. “I know. I’m cool. You can play with us whenever you want.”
Donovan chuckled before tipping his bottle back and finishing the last of the beer. “Thanks, but I don’t need your permission.”
Chapter 12
Garrett watched from the wings of the stage as the Angela and Aiden show concluded for the fourteenth night in a row. Even though she’d told him the truth, it still stung to watch Aiden kiss her. He sure looked like a man in love. And how could he not love her? Angela was the easiest person in the world to love.
Tonight, Angela took it one step farther and threw her arms around Aiden’s neck, really getting into it. The Nashville crowd ate it up; the idea of her taming the bad boy with her sweet, small-town ways. The fact that she commanded the stage with her presence and left the crowd with a breath of fresh air helped, too.
He couldn’t look away as she melted into Aiden’s side. It was like watching a train come barreling toward him. He knew he needed to get out of the way, but he just couldn’t make his legs move. She and Aiden left the stage and she smiled brightly as Aiden wrapped her in his arms and spun her around.
Fake my ass. He wants her. Garrett narrowed his eyes as he watched them together. The man’s gaze was glued to Angela’s breasts as she bent down to adjust her shoe. Jealousy, pure and unadulterated, coated Garrett like a heavy cloak. Taking a deep breath and willing himself to calm down, he turned to leave, to get away from it all.
