"I don't know."
"You don't know if you want to expose that much of yourself to the world?" I guessed.
Noah shot me a dark look. "Always think you know everything," he muttered.
"You said you only wrote your songs because they were marketable, but I don't think that's true. You wouldn't have been able to touch so many people's hearts if you hadn't put something of yourself into them."
"And did I touch your heart?" he mocked. "Did my words speak to you?"
I narrowed my eyes at him. "You know, at first, I couldn't reconcile the Noah Hart I knew from those lyrics with the Noah Hart I'd met in person. But those two men aren't so very different."
He snorted. "Right. Now that we've been fucking for weeks, you're starting to think I really am that passionate, romantic poet you crushed on as a teenager?"
"I've gotten to know you, Noah," I said, exasperated. "You act like an ass sometimes, but you can also be sweet. Thoughtful. And I think if you used that song, your fans would get to know the Noah Hart I've gotten to know."
"And what makes you think I care about my fans getting to know me?"
"You don't have to be scared of showing people the real you."
Noah stood from the bench with a growl. "You don't know anything."
"I know you had a bad childhood. I know that your sister got hurt and you feel like it's your fault."
Noah's face was dark and clouded over. He looked like he was biting his tongue. I pressed on.
"I know that you were betrayed once by people you trusted. I know that's why you don't let people in. But you don't have to be afraid. You can open up to people. You can open up to me."
He clenched his fists. "You have no idea what you're talking about."
"You think I don't get it? If you opened up once in a while maybe you'd see that you're not the only one who's experienced pain."
"You think you understand?" His eyes burned with resentment. "Poor Jennifer. Her mom was sad all the time. What a terrible childhood."
Anger rose in my chest, pushing down the devastating pain his words had caused. I clenched my fists so hard they shook, resisting the urge to punch him. "You can be a real jerk sometimes, you know that?"
"You say this like it's new information."
"I'm just trying to help you. If you don't stop acting so pissy—"
"Who says it's an act? This is how I am." He put his back to me and brought his beer to his lips to take a swig of his beer.
A storm raged through my chest. I wanted to punch something. Kick something. Namely, Noah.
"If that's how you're going to be, then fine. Feel free to wallow in your unresolved guilt issues forever. Finish your goddamn song on your own."
I turned on my heel. I waited a moment to see if he would stop me.
He didn't say a word.
I stormed away, blinking back tears.
Chapter Nineteen
"Hey there gorgeous, where you going in such a hurry?"
I stopped on my way out the door, eager to leave the party, only to find Cameron Thorne laughing with the twins, Damon and Ian Drake. I didn't necessarily want to talk to them, but now that they'd seen me I couldn't be rude and ignore them.
I made my way over with my rumpled, beer-stained dress, frazzled hair and tearstained cheeks, trepidation rising in my chest.
As soon as I approached them, Cameron was immediately concerned. "What's wrong? Are you crying? You should be creaming in your panties at the chance to party with rock stars."
I resisted the urge to sniffle and wiped at my cheeks with the back of my hand, getting rid of the evidence of my tears. "It's nothing."
"I can guess why you look so upset. It's because of Noah, isn't it?" Cameron looked pissed. "I've said it a million times. That asshole doesn't know how to treat a woman."
"But you do?" I shot back.
Cameron's eyes narrowed, an evil expression on his face. "Hell yeah I do. I can show you personally if you like." His bright red hair fell over one eye, turning the evil look sultry. As tempting as it was, I knew better than to encourage a man like Cameron Thorne.
"That's okay," I backpedaled. "I'm good."
"Is His Royal Highness giving you problems?" one of the twins asked.
"I always liked that nickname. I've just been calling him Mr. Cranky Pants."
The twins laughed uproariously. They both wore light blue jeans with identical rips and matching Metallica t-shirts. Even this close, I couldn't tell a single difference between them.
"Holy shit," one of them chuckled.
"That's genius," the other continued.
"He'd kill us for calling him that."
"All the more reason to do it."
They smashed their drinks together in a cheer.
"Best way to get over the guy who broke your heart is by getting under another one." Cameron handed me a beer with a lecherous grin. "I'm happy to volunteer as tribute."
"We're not—! He's just—" I pressed my lips together, not wanting to go into it with them. "Did you just make a Hunger Games reference?"
"Hey, Katniss is hot. Even Damian agrees," Cameron added, using the twin's portmanteau name. I supposed even Cameron couldn't tell them apart, treating them as one entity like the rest of the world.
"Cam's right," one of the twins said as the other nodded in agreement. "We'd fuck Jennifer Lawrence every day of the week."
"Is that the royal we?" I asked.
The twins shared a mischievous grin.
"I just don't understand Noah." If anyone could sympathize, it would be his fellow bandmates. They knew what he was really like in person.
"No one does," Cameron shrugged. "That's why he's the sexy, mysterious front man."
"I love his lyrics. I've cried over his songs. Literally cried. I know people said off stage he's more broody and closed-off, but I always thought the person who wrote with such emotion, with such passion, wouldn't be such a…"
"Grumpy bastard?" The twins spoke in one voice.
"Well. Yeah."
They both shrugged in unison.
"You get used to it," one of them said, giving me a sympathetic look. "You'll earn how he operates."
The other twin snorted. "Or just smack him upside the head. That works, too."
"Believe me, I've been tempted," I muttered. "August said I should be patient with him."
"That's because August has the patience of a saint," Cameron snorted. "Don't know how he hasn't killed the lot of us a million times over by now."
"It's like family," said the twin who'd given me the sympathetic look. "Even when you hate each other, you love each other."
The other twin pulled his brother into a headlock. "Aw, you getting all sentimental on us?"
The two of them tussled, throwing fake punches at each other until they crashed into a side table, knocking it over. Claps and cheers went up around the room as the glass top shattered. The twins laughed the entire time.
Cameron continued drinking his beer, eyeing me as he ignored the spectacle. "I don't know what went wrong between the two of you, but if you really want to fix it, you need to be persistent. Noah's like a hedgehog."
"Spiky on the outside, soft and cuddly on the inside?"
"Spiky on the outside and a skittish little rat on the inside."
"Hedgehogs aren't rodents. That's porcupines."
"Same deal."
"I'll take that under advisement." I sighed into my beer. "I guess I should try to talk to him again."
"Don't forget about my offer."
"What offer?"
Cameron leaned forward until his lips were against my ear. "To show you how I treat a woman."
"Are you always so forward?"
"Gorgeous, if I was really trying, you'd be flat on your back with my head between your legs already."
I backed away and flushed. "I'm going to go find Noah."
I wanted to get away while I still could. As much as Noah affected me, Cameron Thorne exuded sex from every p
ore. From the rumors I'd heard, I had no doubt his powers of seduction were that good.
The party didn't seem to be winding down any time soon, but there were fewer people than had been there when I first arrived. It seemed the ones still here felt they needed to make an even bigger ruckus to make up for the ones who'd left.
I spent a while bracing myself, trying to summon up enough courage to brave Noah's wrath once again. If I wanted a chance to make things better with him I'd have to catch him before he left, too. I couldn't let things end the way they had.
He wasn't on the back patio. I had to go searching through the mansion. I found him in one of the living rooms. He was slouched on the far end of a sofa, his head leaning back, propped up by the cushions. I marched up to him.
"We can't end things like this."
He titled his head slightly to look at me, neck limp. His eyes were unfocused. "Jen. You're still here."
"I was trying to enjoy myself but the pending implosion of my career has got me all out of sorts."
He stared at me silently.
I steeled myself, throwing my shoulders back. "I'm not leaving until we come to an understanding."
"I don't mean to be an asshole."
I was so taken aback I was speechless for a few moments. I gathered myself together. "Doesn't stop you from acting like one."
"I know. It's hard."
"What's hard, not being an asshole?"
He lifted his eyes to the ceiling, avoiding mine. "Yeah."
I knew Noah hadn't had the best life. He'd already opened up to me a little. Maybe that was the best he could manage right now.
If I wanted to break down those walls, I'd have to take it slow.
"Can we start over?" I asked.
He squinted, eyes glassy. "Start over how?"
"Let's pretend we haven't been…" I glanced around, making sure no one could hear us. "Pretend we haven't been sleeping together. Just act professional from now on."
"I don't want to forget." He eyes burned into me, even as glazed over as they were. "I want to remember every minute. Every second."
Some small part of my hardened heart softened. "Noah…"
"Let's go," he said abruptly.
"Go where?"
"Home." He heaved himself off the sofa, lurching forward. I hurried to put my arms around his chest, keeping him upright. His eyes met mine. "I want you to come home with me."
"You're drunk." It worried me, a bit. This was the second time I'd seen Noah get drunk. I had to admit, he did seem to drink a lot. But like he'd said, he was a rock star. I supposed that was just what they did.
He frowned, looking confused. "Not to fuck. Just to talk. And then sleep."
"You want me to spend the night? Without sex?"
The only time we'd slept in the same bed had been the evening after the club, when he'd told me about his sister.
"I don't want you to regret this in the morning like last time."
He brought a hand to my cheek, gazing into my eyes as he spoke slowly and carefully.
"The only thing I regret is hurting you."
Chapter Twenty
After we left the party together, I guided Noah into a taxi. He clung to me the entire time.
Clung wasn't really the right word. He buried his face in my neck, pressing his lips against my skin in not-quite kisses. He rested his hand on my thigh, not high enough to be inappropriate, but still high enough to cause my insides to flutter.
The taxi driver kept glancing at us through the rearview mirror, no doubt wondering if we were going to start making out, or god forbid have sex, in the middle of the ride home. Luckily Noah managed to keep his touches relatively chaste.
By the time we made it to his condo, Noah was walking upright by himself. His eyes were clear, having sobered up on the ride home. I settled myself on the sofa as Noah got us some water. He took his own seat at the other end of the sofa, leaving some space between us. I took the glass of water he handed to me with a murmured thanks.
"So what did you want to talk about?" I asked.
He avoided my eyes, looking almost chagrinned. "I wanted to explain."
About why he'd gotten so angry and thrown me out? Why he'd been a complete asshole? Why he said hurtful things if he knew he was going to regret it? There were too many questions I wanted answers to. I decided to stay quiet and let Noah speak.
He leaned back on the sofa and let out a slow breath.
"I was telling the truth when I said I didn't mean to hurt you. Sometimes I say shitty things without thinking about them."
"Good to know you're self aware."
He side-eyed me. I shut up.
"I just want you to understand," he said.
"I'll listen to whatever you have to tell me."
"I told you I was in foster care," he began. "Our mother was a drug addict. She ran off on us one day. Left the house and never came back. For all I know she's dead. OD'd in some crack house, maybe."
I touched him arm softly. "I'm so sorry."
He shrugged. "It was almost better that way. She was always using the last of our money to score drugs. Always coming home high and yelling at Lily and me. I almost felt relieved when she was gone. I know that makes me a shitty person."
"No it doesn't. I understand." I understand too well. "You were sad she was gone, but you were relieved you didn't have to deal with her anymore."
Noah nodded. "That's a good way of putting it."
"Can I ask how old you were?"
"I was fourteen. Lily was nine. We had no other family to take us in. I suppose we were lucky. They managed to keep us together." He eyed me out of the corner of his eyes. "I guess I don't have to explain that I went through some bad shit."
"I can imagine. I'm sorry."
"It wasn't so much the foster parents. They wanted the paycheck. They didn't pay any attention to what was going on in that house. It was anarchy. The older kids preyed on the younger kids. They used anything and everything against you. And they knew how much I loved my sister."
That must have been part of why it was so hard for Noah to open up to anyone. "You couldn't show any weakness or it would be used against you?"
"Psychoanalyzing me again?"
"Just trying to understand more about you."
"And do you?"
"Not everything. But a bit, I think. I'm sorry for interrupting."
Noah continued. "I did everything I could to make sure Lily got out of it unscathed. Even if it meant sending nasty little fuckers to the hospital on a weekly basis. I protected her. Watched over her. But I couldn't always—" he cut himself off sharply.
"You said something happened to Lily?" I asked softly.
He looked away, avoiding my eyes, not acknowledging my words. "I got her out of that house as soon as I was able to. I took my first check from Etude Entertainment and got a place for me and Lily to live."
"So that's why," I mused quietly.
"Why what?"
"Why you said you only care about marketability. About how much money you make. You wanted to be able to provide for Lily."
He grunted and looked away.
"It's okay if taking care of your family is a motivating factor," I said. "It just doesn't have to be the only factor. I'm sure your fans would love to hear something more personal from you."
"Are we back to this?"
"I'll drop it." For now. I needed to convince Noah to put more of himself into his song. That was going to be an uphill fight the entire way. "So Lily came to live with you?" Somehow I doubted the story ended there with a happily ever after.
"Our whole life it had just been the two of us. Noah and Lily against the world. Then Darkest Days exploded onto the music scene. All of a sudden I had money and fans and media attention. All the band's hard work had paid off. But…"
"But things changed?" I guessed.
"People starting crawling out of the woodwork. People I'd barely spoken to as a teenager would show up and act as if we were best friend
s. With our mother taking off, and having to grow up in foster care, me and Lily felt unwanted. Unloved. We only had each other. Now I was suddenly in the limelight and had everyone fawning over me."
"And is that when Noah Hart started getting a big head?" I said, trying to lighten the mood.
"I hated it," he said flatly. "I wanted me and my sister to be left alone. But Lily loved it. She was always having people over. We were always going to the best parties and events. People wanted a piece of Noah Hart, and sometimes that meant they wanted a piece of Lily, too. Anything to get close to me."
"She finally got all the attention and love she'd never had growing up," I murmured thoughtfully.
"But being in the spotlight had a price. Paparazzi started following her around everywhere, taking pictures. People would pretend to be our friends, only to turn around and spill everything to the media for cash. Then one night—" he stopped abruptly, his expression pained.
Unease settled over me. "You don't have to tell me."
"These two guys we knew broke in. They thought the place was empty. They planned to steal everything," he said in one breath, as if trying to get the words out as fast as possible. "They had been in foster care with us. We bonded over all the shit we went through. I thought they were my friends. My brothers. But they'd just been using us the whole time. And they found Lily home alone."
Cold dread ran down my back. I feared what Noah was going to say next.
He shifted across the sofa to press himself next to me, seeking comfort from my presence. He looked up at the ceiling so he didn't have to meet my eyes.
"They threatened her. Held her at gunpoint." He clenched his fist, rage exploded across his face.
My heart clenched in my chest. "Did they…?"
"No. They took everything and left her alone. Tied up. For hours. I found her that way when I got home."
I let out a small breath of relief. It could have been so much worse.
"She was so scared." Noah's mouth was set in a firm line, the rage on his face not easing. "I should have known better than to trust those assholes. I thought, because of what we'd gone through as teenagers… I thought they were like family." He finally turned to look me in the eye. "I sent Lily away. I didn't want her to get hurt again. Didn't want people using her again."
Hard Rock Tease: A Rock Star Romance (Darkest Days Book 1) Page 12
