Hard Rock Tease: A Rock Star Romance (Darkest Days Book 1)

by Athena Wright

  He was silent for a moment before snorting. "I write words and I sing them. That's it. I'm not some god."

  "I know."

  "Do you? Sometimes, the way you look at me…" he trailed off.

  "How do I look at you?" I whispered.

  He shifted in his seat, leaning close to me. "Like I'm the only person on earth."

  "When you sing, it's like you are."

  Noah stared at me, his eyes zeroing in on my lips. I wet them unconsciously.

  "You're so fucking tempting," he murmured.

  He put his hand on my upper thigh, thumb mere inches away from my panties. My heartbeat sped up, heat pooling between my legs.

  "We're in the middle of a bar," I protested weakly.

  "There's always the back room." He narrowed his eyes at me.

  I let out a shaky breath as I seriously contemplated it.

  A cheer went up somewhere near the pool table, jotting me out of my haze. I ducked my head, pulling away. "As hot as it was, I don't think I want to do a repeat performance."

  "I suppose you're right. I need a bed to fuck you properly." He brought his beer to his smirking lips and took another swig.

  "Don't get too drunk," I warned him.

  "Why?"

  "If you're drunk we can't have sex later. I don't want to take advantage of someone who can't give their consent."

  He snorted. "I'm fucking you so I can write songs. Who's taking advantage of whom?"

  My heart clenched in my chest. Was that really all we were, after all this time? My face threatened to crumble. I needed a minute alone before Noah noticed.

  "I'm going to the restroom."

  Blinking back tears, I made my way to the back of the bar.

  I should have known there was nothing real between us. I thought Noah had started to open up to me. To let me in. I'd been wrong. It was just sex to him.

  I splashed cold water on my face to cool myself. My eyes were rimmed with red from holding back tears. I leaned against the sink for long moment, taking deep breaths in and out.

  Okay. So Noah didn't have any real feelings for me. I'd known going into this whole thing that it was only ever going to be sex. Noah Hart didn't do romance. I had to keep reminding myself of that. I couldn't get my hopes up. If it was just sex to him, then I'd have to make sure to remind myself that it was just sex for me as well.

  I finally got a grip on myself and made my way back to the bar.

  When I got there, I found Noah staring down into his beer. I took a seat next to him gingerly.

  "I misspoke earlier," he said, not looking at me.

  I continued to breathe in and out slowly. I didn't want to let him know I was upset. "Misspoke about what?"

  He stared at me for long moments. He brought a hand to my cheek, brushing my bottom lip with his thumb.

  "I don't want you thinking I only have sex with you so I can write music."

  My heart swelled, the ache in my chest easing. I gave him a soft smile. "Noah…"

  His other handed wandered to the swell of my ass. "I have sex with you because you're hot as hell."

  I choked out a snort of disbelief. He removed his hands, turning serious again.

  "It's like I said before. You're talented. I—" he paused, looking almost embarrassed. He met my eyes. "I need you."

  He said the words so softly I almost didn't catch them. When they finally registered, relief and elation filled my chest.

  I knew how hard it was for Noah to rely on people. Even harder for him to admit it out loud. I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

  "I'll help you in any way I can."

  "Any way?"

  I pulled back to find his eyes were dark and heated. My inner muscles pulsed and throbbed.

  "You want to get out of here?" I asked.

  "Fuck yes."

  Chapter Fifteen

  Noah dragged me back to his apartment, paying the taxi cab extra to speed and get us there faster. He immediately brought me to his bedroom and threw me on the bed.

  His kisses were heated and fervent, his movements eager as he began stripping me of my clothes. I unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off his shoulders, running my hands over his chest, exploring his tattoos. He shuddered under my hands.

  "Fuck. Jen." He kicked off his pants, leaving him naked and hard.

  I met his eyes. They were still glassy and bright. He fisted my hair in his hands and pulled me in for another kiss.

  "Wait." I put a hand on his chest.

  He pulled back. "What?"

  "You're drunk."

  "And?"

  "I don't want to sleep with you if you're inebriated."

  He stared into my eyes, uncomprehending. "Are you being serious right now?"

  "Yes."

  He groaned and rolled over, flopping next to me on the bed.

  "You've had a lot to drink," I said. "I told you. I don't want to take advantage of you."

  He sighed deeply and ran his hands over his face. "Dammit."

  "We should both drink some water," I told him.

  "Don't get up." He heaved himself off the bed. He was still hard. "I'll get it."

  The moment Noah left the room his phone on the nightstand pinged and flashed. I didn't mean to snoop, but I automatically responded to any text message or phone call with the urge to check it. It was a quick glance but I caught the name flashing with a missed call.

  A girl's name.

  Lily.

  My heart froze in my chest.

  I stared at the name for god knows how long, my thoughts racing. Who was Lily? Just a friend?

  Noah didn't have any friends.

  Someone from work? Why wouldn't they just email? Unless it was an emergency. If it was a real emergency wouldn't one of the guys call him?

  I couldn't get ahead of myself. Surely there was an explanation. An explanation that didn't involve Noah sleeping with another girl at the same time he was sleeping with me.

  I snapped my head forward as I heard the fridge door close. I tugged the sheets to my chest, sitting in the middle of the bed and trying not to have a meltdown.

  He wobbled into the bedroom with two glasses of water. His eyes were still glassy and unfocused.

  "Here."

  He thrust the water into my hand and climbed back into bed. He paid close attention to the glass in his hand, trying not to spill water all over the sheets.

  "Who's Lily?" I blurted out. I immediately chided myself for even asking.

  Noah froze in the middle of take a sip. He lowered the glass. "How do you know that name?" His voice was almost slurred from the alcohol he'd consumed.

  I nodded to the phone. "I wasn't snooping." I tried to keep my voice from shaking. "You had a missed call and I checked it without thinking."

  He leaned over me to scoop up his phone. He glanced at me, eyes still unfocused as he pressed the phone to his ear, listening to the message. It was definitely a girl's voice I heard through the tinny speaker.

  With every second Noah's expression changed. The tension between his brows eased, his eyes brightening. A hint of a smile crossed his face. He huffed out a short laugh as he hung up. I'd never seen him so open. Almost cheery.

  He kept the phone in his hand and stared at me, a considering look on his face. I pressed my lips together, clenching my fists in the sheets. I wasn't going to ask again.

  After several moments he sighed deeply and shifted back to recline against the headboard.

  "Lily's my sister," he said.

  Relief crashed over me, making me breathless. All the tension in my shoulders left, my hands relaxing their grip on the sheets.

  I should have remembered. There were rumors Noah had a little sister. That rumor was old though. I hadn't heard the name Lily spoken in years.

  "You thought it was another girl?" The words should have sounded accusatory, but he only sounded curious.

  "I didn't want to pry."

  "It's okay to want to know if I'm sleeping with other girls.
"

  I debated asking, not turning to look at him. "Are you?" I asked in a small voice.

  "No."

  I let out a slow breath. I shifted back to recline next to him. "Okay. Neither am I."

  "Good to know you aren't sleeping with other girls."

  I nudged his arm. "You know what I mean."

  There was an odd expression on his face as he looked at the phone in his hand.

  "You okay? Is something wrong with your sister?" She had called so late at night. Maybe it had been an emergency.

  "Nothing's wrong."

  "You looked worried."

  Noah was silent for several long moments. I was beginning to think he wasn't going to answer when he finally spoke.

  "Lily's was in London the past few years for high school. She just finished doing an art retreat program in Europe before she goes off to college. She's coming back for a visit."

  "That's sounds wonderful. I bet you miss her."

  He murmured in agreement, but still looked concerned. He glanced at me briefly. "Don't tell anyone okay?"

  "About?"

  "Lily. I don't want anyone knowing she's coming back."

  I frowned, confused. "Why not?"

  He turned on his side, burrowing under the blankets. I thought he might go to sleep without answering me. A voice spoke from beneath the sheets.

  "You won't tell anyone. Right?"

  "Of course."

  He tugged me down to lay next to him. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. His face was softer in its worry.

  "The last time she was here… it wasn't good."

  I thought back to the rumors. Fans had found out Noah had a little sister. A lot of people were curious about her, since no one knew much about Noah's past. It seemed like he'd sprung from the aether one day as the front man for Darkest Days.

  "Can I ask what happened?" I asked tentatively. Noah clutched me tighter to his chest and buried his face in my neck. I'd never seen him so affectionate. So needy. "You don't have to," I hurried to say. "But if you want to talk about it, I'll listen."

  "I should have protected her," he whispered.

  Icy fear struck my chest. I didn't dare ask for details about what had happened to his sister. I could think of a dozen terrible scenarios.

  "It was my fault," he said, the words muffled into my shoulder. "I trusted the wrong people. I promised I'd never made that mistake again."

  I brought his face up to meet my eyes with my hands on his cheeks. His eyes were pained and still glassy. I had no doubt he wouldn't be this open if it weren't for the alcohol running through his system.

  That was why Noah didn't open up to people. He was afraid of being hurt again. Maybe he was afraid of someone hurting Lily.

  "She wants to stay," he blurted out. "Lily wants to come back."

  "Would that be a bad thing?"

  "I love the idea of her visiting me. I miss her. I want to spend more time with her. But I don't know if she should live here permanently."

  "You're worried it will happen again?" Whatever it was. I didn't know if Noah was ready to tell me yet.

  "I know something will happen again. That's the nature of people. We're selfish. We only care about ourselves. We don't care who we hurt. We betray those closest to us if it means we gain something."

  My heart clenched in my chest. "Do you really believe that?"

  "Yes," he said automatically. After a few seconds he shook his head. "No. I don't know. Maybe." He groaned and rolled over onto his back. He ran a hand over his face. "My head's all screwed up. I know that."

  "You're not screwed up."

  He snorted.

  "You have issues," I explained. "Everyone does."

  He turned his head to look at me. "Including you?"

  I thought back to my unopened letter. "Including me," I said quietly. "But there's nothing wrong with that, as long we acknowledge our problems and work towards fixing them and don't just let them fester." I almost snorted at how hypocritical I was being. I wasn't working on my problem at all. I was ignoring them quite soundly. But… "People are flawed," I continued. "That's what makes us humans."

  "I'm more than flawed."

  "You're—" I thought for a moment. "You have trust issues. You have guilt issues. But you can work on that. You don't always need to push people away." I laid my head on his chest. "You can let me in. You can trust me."

  His heartbeat slowed. His breathing evened out.

  "I do trust you," he murmured, half asleep.

  The words warmed me from the inside. Trust clearly didn't come easy to Noah.

  I only hoped he still felt that way when he woke up.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The next morning Noah was gone. At least, he wasn't in bed when I rolled over and unconsciously reached out for him. The sheets were cold. He hadn't been in bed for some time.

  My heart immediately began thumping hard in my chest. I knew that Noah would never have said the things he told me last night if it hadn't been for the alcohol. I chastised myself for letting him get that drunk. I should have known better. Noah was always so closed off. I hoped he wasn't upset with me, or with himself, for the things he'd said.

  Soft strains of piano music filtered through the closed bedroom door. I slipped out of bed and headed to the bathroom adjacent to the bedroom. After a quick shower I wrapped Noah's dark blue bathrobe around myself. It was ridiculously oversized on me.

  Opening the door a crack and peeking out, I saw Noah sitting at the piano. He wasn't playing the song we'd been working on. It was an interesting melody, warm and peaceful somehow. My worry eased a little. He wasn't scowling and tossing things to the floor in a rage. Maybe last night had been some sort of important breakthrough between the two of us.

  "That's a nice song," I said softly, padding out in my bare feet. "Something new?"

  "Something old."

  "Something borrowed, something blue?" I quipped.

  "Don't make wedding jokes."

  I made a face. Maybe I'd been wrong and Noah was in one of his moods. I made my way over to the kitchen and looked through the cupboards for something to eat for breakfast. For all that Noah and I had been humping like rabbits, I hadn't yet stayed overnight.

  "Noah." I called out.

  "What?" came the sullen reply.

  "You literally have a carton of expired eggs, a jar of pickles and a bottle of mustard in your fridge. That's it."

  "There's also a six pack of beer."

  "I took that as a given."

  "What are you doing snooping around anyway?"

  I closed the fridge door and left the kitchen with my stomach rumbling. "I was looking for something to make us for breakfast."

  "Cooking breakfast for me? How domestic." He didn't look up from the piano. In fact, he hadn't met my gaze once.

  I went back to the bedroom and shimmied into my skirt and top from the day before. I grabbed my purse and cell phone, which had been dropped unceremoniously to the floor. I paused before picking up Noah's phone from the night stand, too.

  I went back to the living room and shoved the phone in his face, interrupting his playing. "Here."

  He nodded his head with a jerk, indicating I should leave it on top of the piano. I set it down and took a seat beside him on the piano bench. He didn't move over to make room for me, so I had to perch on the edge.

  Mr. Cranky Pants was out in full force this morning.

  "I could order something for breakfast," I said, trying to cheer him up. "Or we could go out somewhere. Do you know of any good brunch place around here?"

  "Not hungry."

  I suppressed the urge to sigh deeply. It was like we'd lost all the progress we'd made and were back to square one. I shouldn't have pushed him to open up. Maybe it was too soon.

  "I might have some instant pancake mix in the back cupboard," he said grudgingly.

  "I can work with that."

  I stayed sitting next to him as he continued playing, enjoying the refrain.
>
  "You mind?" he grunted. "I'm working on something."

  I slid from the bench. "Fine. I'll leave you to it."

  I stalked back to the kitchen and set about making some goddamn pancakes. When they were done I put them on a plate and took them to the island counter with tall bar stools, the only dining room Noah's apartment had.

  I turned to ask if he had any syrup hidden away somewhere. I stopped.

  Noah's eyes were closed, his head bowed forward, messy hair falling over his cheekbones. His fingers fluttered over the keys in fluid motions. The song had changed while I'd been in the kitchen. The melody was slower, softer, more mournful. I was mesmerized, not only by the sorrowful strains, but by the way he played. His expression was relaxed and open. There was no tension between his brows, no scowl on his face. His lips were soft and slightly parted. He hummed to himself every few bars.

  I found myself sitting on a bar stool, watching him. As the pancakes cooled, I took in every detail. Every slow, deep breath, every twitch of his eyelids, every movement of his lips.

  Noah had said he wanted his audience to spontaneously orgasm when they heard our song. This one was different. There were no sensual undertones. The song was moving in its simplicity, yet impressive in its range. Unbidden tears stung the back of my eyes.

  The song came to an end, his fingers resting lightly on the keys. I let out a breath. I hadn't dared breathe or move or speak for fear of breaking his concentration.

  "That was beautiful," I said softly.

  He jerked his head up, staring at me as if he'd forgotten I was there.

  "I don't know why you need my help if that's the kind of thing you're capable of composing on your own," I continued.

  "It's okay, I guess." He shifted, looking uncomfortable.

  "It was moving," I told him. "Soulful." I was beginning to think he should throw out everything we'd been working on and go with this one. "You made me feel something with that song. Something powerful and something heartbreaking at the same time."

  His mouth trembled, expression open, with a hint of vulnerability. Then his face shuttered close.