by Kim Loraine
“The confident rocker girl who’s in love with you for the cameras but has feelings for someone else. I can’t keep up the façade.”
“Just let me lead. Do what you have to behind closed doors. Just don’t get caught. The more people you tell, the greater the chance we’ll be found out. Don’t tell your parents. I promise, if I need to I’ll formally apologize to them after this is all over.”
“I . . . you’re telling me to cheat on you?”
“Not exactly, since we aren’t really together. We’ll make the most of our pretend happiness while the media is interested, then we’ll part as friends. I screwed my chance at love a long time ago. Now I’m doing my penance.”
She wrapped her arms around him, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders.
“You can’t give your heart to me if it belongs to someone else already,” he murmured.
Her chest tightened at the truth in his words.
It was after three o’clock in the morning when her parents finally dragged themselves off to the hotel they’d booked. She’d kept up the pretense with Aiden all night, running her fingers through his hair, nuzzling his neck, doing all the things she’d seen Valerie and Donovan do together at family gatherings. Garrett’s eyes stung her every time they connected with hers.
As she walked back from seeing her parents to the elevator, Garrett met her in the hall.
“You didn’t tell them.”
“No.” She couldn’t deal with him, not right now.
“Why?”
“Gare, just stop, please.” Tears pooled in her eyes making her vision swim.
“Do you want him?”
She didn’t know how to answer that. There were people in the hall, photographers lurking all over.
“Can we talk about this later?”
His eyes went wide. “He said Marcus wants us to go on the European leg of the tour. Do you have to keep this up for that?”
“Yes.” She bit the word out.
“Were you going to talk to us about it?”
“Of course I was. I don’t even know if that’s really an option. I’m tired. Can we please talk about this later?” Her head hurt, heart ached, and she needed time alone to think about everything Aiden had said.
She turned away and walked to her room, not daring to look back for fear she’d run into his arms.
Angela fell into her bunk on the bus, frustrated and exhausted after dealing with her family, the media, and Garrett. The night had gone by in flashes of fitful sleep in her hotel room. Before she knew it, her alarm was going off and they were loading into the bus, heading off to their next destination. She pulled the bunk curtains closed and drifted under the blanket of sleep with the burn of Garrett’s gaze tingling over her skin.
The dream caught her by surprise.
An onslaught of flashbulbs in her face, assaulting her senses and blinding her. She stumbled down the red carpet and reached for the hand that was held out. A warm palm gripped hers and pulled her close. Aiden stared at her, a grin on his gorgeous face. She could smell his spicy cologne and relished the comforting scent as the roar of people and camera shutters blocked out her perception of everything around her.
He pulled her across the blood-red carpet, bypassing the crowd and photographers, and pushed open a door to a darkened room. He reached up and switched on the light, bathing the room in a harsh glow. The walls were mirrored, bringing them both into sharp relief. He was in a tux and she was wearing a flowing, gossamer wedding gown. Her heart caught in her throat as he pulled her to him and began blazing a trail of kisses down her exposed neck.
She gave way to sensation, closing her eyes and letting the feel of him take her under. He swept her up into his arms and carried her to the large bed in the center of the room. The image of them, reflected on all sides of the room, was disconcerting—erotic even— but confusing all the same. Her head screamed, We weren’t really supposed to get married, while her body floated on the pleasure of his hands on her.
With a rustle of fabric, he slid the skirt of her dress up her thighs and lowered his head to brush lips and tongue over her skin. Her panties slid effortlessly down her hips with a gentle tug of his fingers, leaving her bare and wanting.
The moment his tongue met her sensitive flesh she arched off the bed, needing more but unable to control her instinct to move away. She chased her orgasm, unable to catch it. Physically, it felt so good but somehow hollow and empty, until he lifted his head.
Her heart stuttered at the sight of Garrett’s face. It was his mouth on her, his hands worshiping her body. Garrett? His ebony eyes held a burning intensity as he stared up at her.
“I love you, I love you,” he murmured as he crawled up her body.
She gave in, reaching down to unbutton his pants and free him. No time for play. His lips met hers at the same moment he buried himself inside her, swallowing her moan with his mouth. They moved together, him bringing her closer to climax than she’d ever been. She reached a hand up to cup his cheek, staring intently into his eyes and feeling the golden blaze of release on the horizon as the realization of years of denial crashed over her.
“Angie?” Someone shook her, breaking the spell.
Her eyes snapped open and her cheeks flamed.
“You sick? You were crying.” Parker’s concern-filled face caused a wave of humiliation to crash over her.
Taking a deep breath, she sat up and swung her legs out of the bunk. “Bad dream.”
He offered a sympathetic smile. “Need to talk it out?”
“No!” Her cheeks burned and she stood, needing something—anything—that would wash away the memory of that dream.
He held up his hands in assent and settled back into his own bunk.
As she moved around the dark bus, the gentle rocking motion calmed her. The fridge was stocked with bottled water, snacks, and beers, and as she stood in the glow, a chill ran through her. She wanted Garrett, even now. Grabbing a bottle of water, she tiptoed through the rack of bunks, not wanting Parker to hear her, and pushed the media room’s sliding door open.
He was there, dozing on the dark leather of the sectional sofa. His deep breathing and peaceful expression caused her heart to swell. One stray curl had fallen across his forehead and, without hesitation, she crossed the small room and settled herself next to him, brushing the lock of hair away. Her hand lingered on his skin, stroking his striking features. Garrett was all lines and angles; distinctive eyebrows, piercing eyes, sharp cheekbones. All that combined with a strong jaw and a full mouth made him irresistible.
His eyelids fluttered and his breathing changed, startling her.
“What are you doing?” he grumbled, a bewildered expression on his face.
“I had a dream.”
He pushed himself up to a sitting position. “What kind of dream?”
“About Aiden—”
Before she could finish, he was chuckling. “You think I want to hear your dream about him?” He pushed up and away from her, not giving her a chance to tell him anything else.
“Gare, wait!”
He was out the door and stalking down the narrow passage to the living area.
“Whoa, what’s going on?” Parker popped out of his bunk, an alarmed expression on his face.
“Gare won’t listen to me.” She felt like a child tattling.
Garrett whirled around to face her, eyes blazing. “That’s just it. I’ve been listening to you. For twelve-fucking-years, I’ve listened, and watched, and waited. I waited for you to notice me. I watched you choose everyone but me.”
Her chest ached as she watched him take a shuddering breath.
“Six weeks ago, I thought New Year’s was it. That was the moment you’d realized we were made to be together. The things you said to me—th
e way you kissed me—I thought that meant you’d figured it out.”
A soft sound escaped her lips as he continued.
“It kills me that you can’t remember it. It’ll be burned into my memory for the rest of my life, tattooed on my heart, and you don’t even know what you said. So, I’m sorry, but I don’t want to hear about your goddamn dream.”
The bus stopped, the rumble of the engine dying. Garrett moved to the door and threw one last look at her.
“I’ll play, I’ll write, I’ll record. But from now on, that’s all. I’m not your friend. I can’t be. It hurts too much.”
He was out of the bus without another look back, the sharp slap of the door slamming startling both her and Parker.
“What the fuck did I miss?” Parker stared at her, eyes wide and worried.
“Dammit,” she muttered. “Dammit all to hell.”
Chapter 18
Seven years earlier
He sat at the piano, idly plunking on the keys and working out a melody. Garrett could play most instruments with general proficiency, but percussion had always been his favorite. He wasn’t as skilled as Angela on the piano. She’d had years of lessons and the laser focus of someone with no room for distractions.
Four months had passed since her little brother had been hit by a car. A scant four weeks since he’d been removed from life support and the grieving family was able to try and heal. She’d been MIA since that intense afternoon in Garrett’s basement, spending all of her spare time at her brother’s bedside or helping to care for her other two little brothers.
Garrett’s chest tightened at the memory of having her in his arms, his lips on hers, the smell of her hair flooding his senses. He’d never felt that strong for anyone. Sure, he’d dated his share of girls. He’d even traded in his virginity for a quickie in the back of his car with Rachel Brooks a year ago. But nothing compared to kissing Angie.
The creak of the basement door opening brought him back from the memory of her skin under his fingers and, as if he’d conjured her, saw her standing on the stairs. She looked like a shell of herself. Her hair pulled back in a fierce knot on top of her head, eyes ringed with dark circles, and her posture made her seem fragile. It was like she’d break if you hugged her too hard. His heart hurt for her.
“Hey.” He tried to keep himself relaxed and easy. Tried to hide his excitement.
“Hi.” She offered a weak smile and looked around the basement. “Where’s Parker?”
“He said he’d be late.”
She rolled her eyes and grinned. “Typical.”
It was all he could do not to rush to her and hold her. He wanted to put her back together and make her see it was going to get better.
“You guys keep practicing while I was . . . busy?”
He couldn’t ignore the quaver in her voice.
“Yeah, got some new songs in the works. We need you though. We’re missing too much without you, Angie.”
Her lower lip trembled, and he couldn’t keep himself from her any more. He crossed the room and pulled her against him, tightening his arms and kissing her hair. She cried for what seemed like an hour, but in reality was only a few minutes.
“Sorry. Sorry. I’ll pull it together.” She backed away and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her sweatshirt.
“It’s fine. I understand.”
He had to shove his hands in his pockets to keep himself from stroking her cheek. What was going on with him? He hadn’t seen her outside of school in months but this was ridiculous. He couldn’t ask her for more than friendship now, just a month after her baby brother died. Taking a deep breath, he ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. He’d have to wait. Now wasn’t the time.
“Is she here?” Parker’s voice floated down the stairs as he made his way in.
“She’s here,” Angela called.
Garrett could tell she was trying to put a smile in her voice.
Parker didn’t say anything, he just hugged her. She kept it together this time though. No tears, not even a choked up moment while Parker told her how much he loved her.
“Guys, I need to talk to you about something,” she said as she pulled away from Parker’s embrace.
Parker shot Garrett a worried glance. Was she leaving the band? Were they losing her?
Garrett pulled up a stool while Parker snagged a seat in the old recliner they’d commandeered from Garrett’s aunt before she took it to the dump.
“What’s up?” Parker kept his voice light and jovial.
Anticipation built inside Garrett as he watched her. She was nervous, picking at her jeans and staring at the floor.
“I think we’ve got something special between us.” Her voice was soft and she avoided his eyes at all costs. “I’ve been thinking a lot since . . . Simon’s accident. I think we need to focus on the band. No distractions. We can’t let anything get in the way of making it big.”
Garrett nodded, agreeing and wondering why she seemed to think this was such a grave discussion to be having.
“We need to make a pact. No relationships between band members.”
His stomach dropped like a stone, and he felt a little sick.
“Ah, I see,” Parker muttered.
“What?” Angela’s eyes finally focused on something other than the floor.
“This is about you two and what I walked in on.”
She blushed deep scarlet and flicked a glance at Garrett.
“I just think we all need to be on the same page.”
Parker laughed. “Yeah, well, I’m not into girls and Gare’s definitely not into guys. Trust me. I checked.”
She cocked an eyebrow at Parker and Garrett felt his face flame.
Feeling the need to prove he was straight, Garrett went on the defensive. “Don’t be a dick. You never checked. But you’re right. Not into guys. In fact, I’ve got a date tonight so consider the pact made. Let’s get practice started.”
He was disappointed. He’d been so close to something real with her. But now it was done. They shook on it and promised they wouldn’t ruin what they had with sex or romance.
He’d lost her.
Chapter 19
Garrett sat in his familiar living room tapping out a rhythm idly while he waited for the Chinese food delivery to show. The tour had been over for a week, and he’d managed to avoid Angela so far. Unfortunately, he didn’t know how long he’d be able to keep it up. They had a solid two months left until the European leg got started and Backbeat was already pressuring them to get to work on a follow up album.
The rustle of Parker shuffling a deck of cards from the breakfast bar settled over him—a repetitive and comforting sound. Parker kept sending cursory glances his way and it was starting to grate on his nerves. He’d been waiting all week for Parker to weigh in on his outburst at the end of the tour. So far, nothing.
“I don’t mean to interfere with you having a good brood over there, but I’m hungry. When’s the food supposed to be here?” Parker asked.
“I don’t know. A few minutes.”
Parker set aside the cards and stretched, letting out an exaggerated groan. “God, I can’t stand this. You’re walking around with a stupid storm cloud hanging over your head. Angie won’t even come over. How are we supposed to work on a new album when two-thirds of the band aren’t speaking to each other?”
Garrett shot a frustrated glare in his direction.
“What? I’m just admitting what you refuse to acknowledge.”
“Shut up.”
“Nope. I’ve stayed out of it long enough. Pack your bags, man. We leave in the morning.”
“What are you talking about?”
Parker grinned. “Jason’s got a cabin in the mountains and we’re heading up tomorrow for a two w
eek band retreat.”
“Two weeks?”
“Yes, sir. We need to pull our heads out of our asses and get back to what we love.”
Garrett paced around the small living room, raking his fingers through his hair. “Angie know about this?”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
Parker averted his eyes before muttering, “She’s not sure it’s a good idea.”
“I agree. Why didn’t you tell me about this?”
“Because you would’ve done the exact thing you’re doing now. Besides, I don’t care if you guys don’t want to come. We. Are. Doing. This.”
Garrett stopped in his tracks and stared at his friend. It was rare to see such a strong reaction from Parker. He was always an easy-going buddy.
“Fine. But if it all goes to shit, I’m sure as hell going to say I told you so.”
“It’s not going to. You two are going to work it out and move on. Then we’ll make another awesome album and Jason and I will ride off into the sunset with our buckets of money.”
He couldn’t help but crack a smile at Parker’s optimism.
“I’ve been writing. Angie might not like what I’ve got to say, but I have been working.”
Parker’s eyebrows rose in question. “All about her?”
“They’re always about her.” A heavy sigh escaped Garrett’s lips before he could stop it.
“I’m sorry.”
Parker’s hand was a comforting weight on Garrett’s shoulder.
“I’ll be fine. I’m just . . . I need time.”
“We don’t have time. The label’s got us by the balls, man. She’s wrapped up in Aiden, you’re wrapped up in her, and we’ve got a contract that says we need to release a follow up album in six months. Six. That’s barely any time, and we haven’t even started writing.”
