by Kim Loraine
“Gare, where have you been?”
He shrugged, moving across the room and pulling open the door to the isolation booth where she’d been playing.
“No, no way. You don’t get to shrug it off. I tell you I love you. We . . . made love . . . and then you, you just left me.”
She couldn’t bring her eyes to meet his. Instead, she focused on the intricate patterns of the Oriental rug in the center of the room.
“I’m sorry.”
He didn’t say anything else and her chest gave a squeeze.
“Sorry?” she asked, embarrassed by the break in her voice.
“I shouldn’t have snuck out.” He ran a hand through his curls. “It was . . . too much at once.”
Heat crept up her cheeks. This was it—the moment he would crush her. She’d ignored him, denied him, for so long, and now he was finally cutting her loose.
“I just couldn’t believe it. Twelve fucking years of wanting you, of loving you, and it was finally real. I had to take some time away and convince myself it wasn’t all going to go up in a puff of smoke.”
Her heart leapt into her chest. This feeling—this change between them sent tingles through her, made her knees weak, and she didn’t know what to do with it.
“So . . . are we together now?” she asked.
He grinned. “You can’t expect me to say anything but yes.”
He pulled her up from her perch on the piano bench and threaded his hands through her hair. “I love you, Angela. I have loved you most of my life.”
Before she could respond, his lips were on hers, silencing any words that might have bubbled to the surface.
For the remainder of the band retreat, Angela spent her time in the recording studio, writing, and wrapped up in Garrett. They ignored the rest of the world—ignored the heavy weight of her public persona.
Garrett sighed, a contented expression on his face as he ran his fingers along the exposed skin of her back. They lay on his bed, facing each other, unable to look away.
“I feel like, if I stop looking at you it’s all going to disappear,” he murmured.
“I know what you mean.”
He shook his head, a slight frown creasing his brow. “You don’t know. It is going to disappear. When we leave here tomorrow, that’s it. It’s back to you and Aiden.”
“That’s not real. You and me, that’s what is real.”
He pressed his lips to her forehead and a soft moan escaped her.
“I don’t want to go back to the real world.”
She understood. She felt the same way. He was right. The minute they were back in public view, their happy bubble of love would pop. Her heart gave a squeeze.
“I’m sorry.”
“How long do we have to keep the charade going?” His voice was soft and tinged with sadness.
She shrugged. She had no clue what Backbeat wanted. The relationship between her and Aiden had already gone on longer than they’d discussed. For the first time since the whole thing had started, she just wanted it to be over with.
“Ahem, Gare? Angie? You two decent in there?” Parker tentatively knocked on the door, amusement coloring his words.
Garrett sighed and left the bed, pulling on his boxers and searching the room for the rest of his clothes.
“Yeah, give us a second.”
Mortification rushed up her cheeks in the form of a hot blush.
“Do you think he knows about us?” She felt stupid the moment the words left her lips. He has eyes—and ears.
“Uh, yeah. I think he knows.”
He tossed her clothes across the room with a playful smirk but his face took on a sadness almost instantly as their eyes met. “What are we going to do when we get back?” he asked.
It was the question she’d been avoiding successfully for the last twelve days. “I don’t know.”
She slipped her clothes on and stretched, feeling deliciously sore in all the right places. Running her fingers through her hair, she bit back a curse as they tangled in a snarled lock.
That’s what I get for going to bed with wet hair.
Garrett sauntered around the room and she found her gaze following him. The simple act of dressing somehow became an erotic show as she watched. The muscles in his chest and stomach flexed and changed the shapes of his tattoos as he tugged his jeans up over his hips. She worked her fingers through the knots in her hair as he covered his glorious body art with a shirt.
“It was worth it.”
He caught her staring and winked. “Totally worth it.”
Shock ran through her. “Did I say that out loud?”
A light laugh spilled from him as he put on the bracelet she’d made him and crossed the room to her.
“Come on. Let’s get out there so I can spend my last few hours here wrapped up in you.”
A pang of regret struck her square in the chest. Both of them knew exactly what would happen when they left the cabin. They’d go back to being normal. Friends. She’d be engaged to Aiden and just waiting for the moment he freed her.
Waiting to start living her life.
Chapter 23
Garrett sat on the hard, wooden chair behind the card table his mom had set up. He sighed as he looked down the line of people that snaked out of his parents’ vintage record store and around the building. The band had agreed to do a special signing at The Turntable before the European leg of the tour started.
Before long, Garrett’s mind flooded with memories of summers spent working at the store. Parker and Angela would come and hang out after closing. They’d all sit on the counter taking turns choosing the most obscure album or B-side they could find.
“. . . make it out to Rachel. My girl loves you guys.”
Garrett’s focus drifted back to the man in front of him, and he offered a smile as he took the album and scrawled his name across it. “Thanks for coming by.”
Glancing at his phone he let out another sigh. They had an entire hour left of this. Pictures, awkward questions, and press. It seemed like the paparazzi were foaming at the mouth to catch Angela doing something even remotely scandalous.
In the week they’d been back from the band retreat, he’d realized it was much harder to be around her than he’d expected. He wanted to touch her every minute. His hands rose of their own volition to brush her skin as she passed him. Even now, he ached to tuck a stray lock of her hair behind her ear as she leaned over the publicity photo she was signing.
“When do you leave for the rest of the tour?” a bright-eyed redhead asked him as she shoved their album cover in his face.
“Uh, about four more weeks.”
“That’s so cool. I can’t believe I live in the same place as famous rock stars. Do you think Angela and Aiden will have their wedding here?”
His vision ran red at the thought.
“I have no idea.” His voice was flat and emotionless, causing the redhead’s expression to go blank.
It went on like that for the rest of the hour. It seemed like everyone was more interested in his take on Angela and Aiden than they were in the band.
He jumped a little when Angela’s fingers settled on his inner thigh and tightened. She stroked along the inseam of his jeans and it was all he could do to bite back a groan.
What was she doing? The press was right there, watching. He shifted in his seat, thankful for the heavy tablecloth concealing them from the waist down.
Her hand crept up his thigh to brush against his now swollen crotch, and he sucked in a harsh breath.
“Are you okay, Garrett?” she asked, her face a mask of pure innocence.
He nodded. “Yeah, just bit my tongue.”
Excusing himself, he pushed away from the table and headed toward the back room. The
signing was practically over, only a few stragglers left and, of course, a photographer or two.
He shut the door behind him, needing a second to pull himself together. He couldn’t have her, not here, not when the media was watching. They had to wait it out, finish the tour, and wait for Aiden to end things. But her hot little hand running up his jeans, practically cupping his cock in a public place, did nothing to staunch his desire to push her up against the nearest wall and have his way with her.
“Gare?” Her soft voice floated in to him from the other side of the door, covering him in a heady layer of lust. “Can I come in?”
Her honey hair came into view first as she peeked in the storeroom. Before he could stop himself, he grabbed her and pulled her to him, shutting the door hard.
His lips found hers as he turned over the deadbolt and pressed her against the solid wood behind them. He knew it was stupid, but he’d had her and now he couldn’t get enough.
She sighed against his mouth and tangled her fingers in his hair. As she pulled away a fraction, his heart sank and worry of what her next words would be crept through him.
“I want you so much,” she whispered, sending surprise running through him.
That was not what he’d expected.
“Wait, aren’t you going to tell me we can’t do this? We might get caught.”
“I know I should be saying that.” She looked down his body and her lips tightened into a thin line. “I just can’t.”
Crushing his lips to hers again, he let himself go, let himself fall into the sensation of her.
“We can’t do this,” she murmured against his mouth.
She pushed him away with regret darkening her features.
“You’re kidding me, right?”
He sighed at the shake of her head.
“We’re in the back room of your parents’ store, Gare.”
Her voice was a husky whisper that sent shivers down his spine. He was aching with need and, at the particular moment, he couldn’t give a damn where they were.
A soft knock on the door followed by his younger brother’s voice soured the mood.
“Garrett? Are you in there? Everybody’s gone and Mom needs us to help get the table and chairs in the truck.”
The knocking turned to pounding as his adolescent brother grew impatient.
“Come on! I know you’re in there.”
Garrett stepped away from Angela and ran a hand through his hair.
“Okay, Jamie. I’ll be out in a second.”
A slight snicker from Jamie sent heat up Garrett’s cheeks.
“You’d better not be whacking off in there.”
Garrett rolled his eyes and motioned for Angela to hide behind the door. As he opened it, Jamie stood with a shit-eating grin on his face.
“You were totally stroking it weren’t you?”
Garrett reached out and slapped the back of his little brother’s head. “Shut up.”
“I’m telling Mom.”
“I said shut up, you pest.”
Jamie stared up at him, dark eyes filled with hero worship. “You don’t really think I’m a pest do you?”
His heart softened as he looked at this fourteen-year-old version of himself.
“Nah,” he said, throwing an arm around his brother, “you’re okay.”
The private plane touched down at JFK International Airport with a slight shudder, jostling Angela out of a light slumber. She reached for her phone immediately to check the time. She was due at the recording studio in just over two hours and the following morning she and Aiden were making a guest appearance on The Today Show. Her heart thudded erratically at the thought of having to be openly affectionate with Aiden now that she and Garrett were together.
Knock ‘em dead today.
She smiled as she read the text message waiting for her from Garrett.
Thanks.
She sent the message and dropped her phone in her purse, nerves at ease. Garrett was the only one who really mattered. He knew it was all for show. They’d laid their feelings on the table and, as far as she was concerned, there was no one but him.
Aiden was waiting for her on the tarmac, a shiny black town car behind him and crowds of paparazzi at the fences. She forced herself to smile and hid her eyes behind sunglasses.
“Hey, baby doll.” His grin was genuine, reminding her how much she really liked him.
“Hey, yourself.”
His arms went around her waist, fingers drifting to float over her ass as he kissed her passionately.
“Mmm, I’ve missed you.”
The click of camera shutters planted a seed of resentment as Aiden ushered her into the waiting car.
“Why the frown?” He ran a hand over her knee and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“How long are we keeping this up, Aiden?”
Shrugging, he reached for his water bottle and took a swig.
“What if Backbeat wants us to really get married? Are you going to want me to do that, too?”
He turned to face her, a serious expression furrowing his brows. “No. I couldn’t marry someone who is in love with another guy. No matter how I feel about her.”
No matter how he feels? What?
Her head was spinning. He wasn’t supposed to have feelings for her.
“What are you saying?”
“Just, that it’s harder for me to pretend now that I’ve gotten to know you. I know you want Garrett. I can understand that. But, I feel like I didn’t get my shot with you.”
“I . . . I didn’t think you really wanted a shot.”
“I’m just saying, I’d throw my hat in the ring if I thought I stood a chance.”
She sat in silence, her mind going a million miles an hour.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have dropped that on you.”
What could she say? Taking a deep breath, she settled for the truth. “Garrett and I are . . . together.”
She watched, curious, as he fiddled with an errant guitar pick. It took a few minutes before he would met her eyes.
“Oh.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “If you ever find yourself, you know, not with Garrett . . .”
“I’ll let you know,” she finished with a smile.
He winked and flashed his cocky grin as the car pulled to a stop in front of the grandest hotel she’d ever seen.
“Come on, I’ll show you to our room.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Our room?”
“Two beds, don’t worry.”
She let out a sigh and fitted her hand in his. A sense of guilt governed her perception as they smiled at the press, held each other tight, and she looked longingly at him. It helped if she saw Garrett in Aiden’s place and that left her with even more guilt.
The photographers hurled questions, following relentlessly, even into the hotel until security stopped them.
“When’s the wedding?”
“Are you pregnant, Angie?”
“Is the band breaking up because Garrett’s jealous?”
“How far along are you?”
“Who’s the father?”
Her heart skipped a beat. Pregnant? Where did they come up with this stuff?
Aiden ushered her to their room, worry creasing his brow.
“They’re starting to get a little nasty,” she muttered, plucking at the loose T-shirt she wore.
He pulled at the back, stretching the fabric tight around her midsection.
“From now on, any time you go out in anything loose they’ll think you’re hiding something.”
“So I need to wear clothes that are painted on?”
With a lecherous glance over her body, he grinned and nodded. “Yep, but if you gain even
an ounce—I’m talking you ate a big lunch— they’ll be all over that, too.”
She rolled her eyes and flopped onto the couch.
“God. What a pain in the ass.”
His laugh filled the room as he slipped out of his shoes and sat down next to her, grabbing her feet and placing them on his lap.
“You get used to it.”
She raised a questioning eyebrow at that.
“Sort of.”
“When do we need to leave for the studio?” She sat up and stretched, needing a shower and a moment to get her shit together.
“Half-hour. Did you pack anything sexy to wear?”
“Why would I do that? We’re just recording.”
Amusement brightened his features.
“You’re so . . . adorable.”
“Adorable?”
“Yes, fucking adorable.”
Annoyance bubbled to the surface at the idea of more press. She wanted to record in something comfortable, not something she couldn’t breathe in. Pushing her frustration aside, she took a moment to let the idea sink in. There’d be plenty of publicity for the single if they sexed it up for the cameras while laying down the track. The goal was to keep it going until the end, when she and Aiden would have the upper hand.
“Dammit. Okay, I think I’ve got something I can wear.”
“Marcus sent something over from Bloomingdale’s. It’s just on loan, so don’t ruin it.”
She couldn’t help it, a tingle of excitement ran through her.
“It’s in your room.”
The dress was short, electric blue, and it fit like a second skin. She looked hot, even if she could barely move. As she stepped through the door, Aiden’s jaw tensed and his eyes widened.
“Damn, baby doll. Just damn!”
“All right, ready to fake it?”
He rewarded her with a wink and a kiss on the temple. “That’s my girl.”
