Key Change: A Slow Burn Rockstar Romance (Common Threads Book 3)

by Heidi Hutchinson

  “What are you doing home anyway? I thought you’d be down at the studio.” Shawn wandered into the kitchen and opened the fridge.

  “Yeah.” Johnny scrubbed a hand over his face. “About that.”

  He hadn’t told Shawn about…well, anything yet. In his defense, it had all kind of happened really fast. It wasn’t one thing after another so much as it was everything at once.

  Shawn cracked open a bottle of BODYARMOR and stood in the middle of the living room.

  “You gonna tell me or should I start guessing?”

  “Sunshine Capone wants to do his whole album with us.”

  To his credit, Shawn didn’t freak out. His eyebrows lifted and he nodded in cool appreciation.

  “And…” Johnny rolled his head from side to side, cracking his neck. He folded his arms over his chest. “Ashton—” He dipped his head to signal correction. “Hannah is going to help me produce it.”

  He watched Shawn for any signs of fainting. Shawn frowned, looked around the room, came back to Johnny.

  “You’re not joking with me, are you?” he asked, voice tight.

  “No.” Johnny wished he was, but he couldn’t get that lucky. “Not joking.”

  Shawn’s eyes got bright and he shoved a hand through his hair. “This is incredible!” He paced rapidly around the living room. “This is amazing!” He waved a hand at Johnny as he paused in front of him. “I mean, this could be everything!”

  “Slow down, kid. This doesn’t mean what you think it means.”

  This was why Johnny hadn’t wanted to tell him. Because the kid’s dreams were always sky-high and he hated having to be the one to bring him back to earth.

  It fucking sucked.

  “No, I know!” Shawn was already trying to emotionally backpedal. Probably having recognized the familiar tone coming from Johnny. “It’s cool. I won’t get carried away. I’m just excited for you, you know. I won’t do anything to mess it up.”

  Johnny clenched his jaw, trying to decide whether or not he should call the kid on his crap or just wait.

  “It’s a temporary job. She’s gonna come in and do some work during the day next week. And then that’s it.” He tried to catch Shawn’s dancing eyes. “She’s not sticking around. This is a favor she’s doing for me.”

  The words had barely left his mouth before he realized what he’d said.

  It wasn’t a favor. It was extortion.

  “A favor?” Shawn repeated in disbelief.

  “In a manner of speaking.” Johnny needed to get off this train. “But the fact remains, we can’t tell anyone she’s here. You know that, right?”

  “Of course.” Shawn shrugged like it was obvious. “But when she announces her return, it’ll be epic.”

  “No, Shawn,” Johnny stopped him. “She’s not returning. She’s done. Which is why the secret is so important to keep.”

  Shawn’s expression faded from exuberance to thoughtful until he was totally sober. He sank down on the edge of the coffee table. “Really?”

  “Yeah, man. She’s out and doesn’t want to go back. We need to respect that, okay?”

  Shawn couldn’t understand because he’d never been there. He’d only ever dreamt of the lights and the smoke and the thousands of fans singing his words back to him. He had no idea how ugly it got for some.

  Especially for those who rode that fame train all the way to hell and back.

  Johnny had met all kinds.

  Some musicians were built for the life. They lived for the travel and the people and the shows. But some just weren’t a good fit. Maybe they started bad with bad people. Maybe they started out too trusting and were worn down along the way. Some got lost and never found their way back.

  He didn’t know what kind Hannah was.

  Honestly, he hoped he never found out.

  He already knew more than made him comfortable.

  “Do you have homework?” Johnny asked, changing the subject.

  Shawn groaned. “Vice Principal Shatface assigned a paper to the senior class today about ‘why we are the way we are.’”

  “Seriously?” Johnny frowned.

  “She called it something else, but it was basically that. She hates everything about Generation Z.”

  “I’ve got news for you, bud. That woman hates everything, period.”

  Shawn grimaced and Johnny saw something else there, something he wasn’t saying. He waited for Shawn to bring it up, but it cleared. Maybe he should have said something about Shawn calling Vice Principal Shatford “Shatface” again. But it was hard to chastise him for something Johnny agreed with.

  That woman hadn’t made Shawn’s enrollment there easy. She was always on his case about something. Johnny was looking forward to the day they didn’t have to deal with her anymore.

  “I’ll be in my room,” Shawn announced, heading up the stairs. “Let me know when there’s food.”

  “You got it.”

  He waited for Shawn to leave and then opened his laptop again.

  This whole process was a headache.

  Sunshine had emailed him several sound files and Word docs that he wanted to use for the record. Now, Johnny had to decide whether to forward that to Hannah or just let her come into the session on Monday blind.

  Waiting meant the recording might take longer, thereby delaying her exit from his life.

  But emailing her now meant increasing communication.

  And there was that pesky detail that he didn’t have her email.

  He opened his phone and dialed, his other hand clenched in a fist.

  “Hello?”

  The moment her voice hit his eardrums, his fist relaxed and so did his shoulders.

  “Sunshine sent over those sound file samples and Word docs. Would you like me to forward those to you?”

  There was a pause, and screw him, but he could picture her slow blink.

  What was it about her slow blinking those inky black lashes over those icy blue eyes? It was quite possibly the hottest and most irritating thing he’d ever seen.

  She rattled off her email and he immediately typed it into the address bar.

  “Okay, it’s been sent.” His thumb reached for the “end” button.

  “Don’t you dare hang up on me, Johnny.” She chuckled softly. “Let me make sure I got it so I don’t have to call you back.” She shuffled some things around in the background. “I’m going to put you on speaker.”

  “All right,” he said tightly.

  There was an intimacy in a phone call. People reduced to sound waves in which to connect. Forced to focus on tone and verbiage. It was an authentic connection that had always made Johnny more than uncomfortable.

  Soft puffs of breath, murmured words not meant for public consumption.

  It was like two people whispering to each other in a dark canyon while life existed outside and all around them.

  “What are you doing?” he asked and immediately regretted it. “I didn’t interrupt something, did I?”

  “Oh,” she sounded distracted. “No. I was doing the dishes, but I am more than happy for the interruption.”

  “Not,” she began to correct quickly. “Not that I was waiting for your call. Or that I was anticipating it. I just hate doing the dishes.”

  Something about the awkward way she was trying to put him at ease was actually working. With anyone else, no, but with Hannah, it felt genuine.

  Both of them were uncomfortable with their current situation.

  That realization was probably why Johnny did what he did next.

  “Yeah, that was my main motivation for getting a place with a dishwasher. I don’t know anyone who loves doing the dishes.”

  She laughed softly. “We have a dishwasher, but I make a lot of food from scratch, so there’s always pots, pans, and things that are marked ‘hand wash only.’” She groaned, sounding annoyed. “That sounded pretentious.” She pitched her voice deeper and mocked herself, “‘I make a lot of food from scratch.’ I didn�
��t mean it like that. I have to make all the food. Eating out is too…precarious. I can’t have delivery because no one can ever know where I live. And going to restaurants is too dicey. If someone recognizes me, it’s all over.”

  Johnny hadn’t thought about any of the details involved in trying to live secretly when you’d previously been an It Girl.

  “Have you ever thought about surgery? To change your appearance?”

  Hannah sighed. “Yes. And I would do it in a heartbeat. But rule number one is to keep Piper safe. And we look way too similar. I’m afraid that if I altered my appearance, she might internalize that about her own features. Even if she said she understood and blah, blah, blah. There’d be no way of knowing how she’d react until after the fact. And her mental health isn’t something I’m willing to risk.”

  A moment of silence passed as Johnny tried to figure out how to respond.

  Feelings whispered inside him and he physically pushed against his chest to keep them from getting any louder.

  “Anyway,” she kept going.

  Like she hadn’t just opened a window into herself, revealing a soul he didn’t think actually existed.

  “I learned to cook.” She chuckled. “Poor Piper had to eat a lot of experiments before I finally figured things out. Okay, I’m ready.” Her tone switched from casual conversation to all business. “Are we going to incorporate all of his ideas? Is that the plan? Do you have any samples you wanna play with? What would you like to see from me?”

  He opened his mouth and closed it again.

  “Johnny?” she asked. “Did I lose you?”

  “Uh…” He swallowed. “Yeah, I have a few things I think sound like him. I haven’t shown him yet, but I’ll send them to you.” He selected the files and sent another email.

  “As far as expectations, just be on time and ready to work. You can park in the back. There’s a door that will be unlocked. No one will see you from the street that way.”

  “Cool.”

  He heard one of his samples start playing on her end.

  “Oh, I like this.” Her tone soft and excited. “I like this a lot.”

  “So I’ll see you Monday?” He cleared his throat. He needed to get off the phone now. For his own sanity.

  “Oh.” She sounded confused. “Yeah.”

  “Great.”

  He hung up the phone and threaded both his hands through his hair, holding his head in his hands.

  This was such a bad idea.

  Chapter Seven

  Out from Under

  HANNAH

  “Are you serious right now?”

  Hannah looked down at her appearance. “What do you mean?”

  Piper reared back with wide eyes. “People will see you like that.”

  Hannah couldn’t, nor did she want to, hide her smirk. “That’s the point, pipsqueak.”

  “You look hideous,” Piper rejoined flatly.

  Hannah barked a laugh that went all the way to her gut. She loved this kid. Everything about Piper was amazing, but Hannah took special joy in the moments when Piper felt free to say exactly what she was thinking.

  They felt like little victorious fireworks in her heart. Boom, boom, boom.

  Also, Piper was correct. She did look hideous.

  She had decided to go the face paint route this week. She bought a pair of yellow skinny jeans, of course the shirt she’d purchased last week. But the best part was the realistic badger face paint she’d done on herself.

  Wolverine, whatever.

  She found a face paint tutorial online last night and thought she’d done a pretty damn good job making it work.

  “Why?” Piper asked with a wave at Hannah. “What’s the purpose of this?”

  “To support you.” Hannah grabbed her keys. “We should go.”

  “What—” Piper pinched the bridge of her nose and huffed. “What are you supposed to even be?”

  “A wolverine.” Hannah gestured at the shirt to help with the visual. “Your mascot.”

  Piper dipped her head to her shoulder and scrunched up her nose. “Remember that abomination you made me watch with you? Cats?” She nodded. “That’s what you look like.”

  Hannah grinned. “I love you.”

  “You show it weird,” Piper said, trying to stifle a giggle.

  They drove to the school, grooving to 311. When they parked, Piper didn’t wait for Hannah. She just grabbed her gear and ran for the gym doors.

  Hannah smiled to herself.

  Last week she had waited for Hannah to lead the way, hanging back. Either she was feeling more comfortable with her role on a team, or Hannah had underestimated how terrible she looked as a rabid badger.

  She checked to be sure nothing was plugged into the car and charging before she locked the doors. She didn’t need a repeat of the week before.

  Geez, had that really only been a week ago?

  Casually, her gaze drifted around the parking lot. No silver Camaro.

  She expected to feel relieved. But was startled by the heavy disappointment that settled in her chest.

  They weren’t friends.

  Far from it.

  Not even frenemies.

  They were…

  Lessons.

  That’s it.

  Just more lessons to be learned.

  It was the line of middle-aged women lining up at the concession stand that tipped her off.

  Now that it had been pointed out to her by Sarahi, she couldn’t not see.

  They were ten deep by the time the shutters opened and the bustling kitchen was revealed.

  Johnny stood at the counter, wearing a light blue Henley this time. Sleeves shoved up to his elbows.

  “Vultures.”

  Hannah glanced up to see Sarahi standing over her.

  She took out a napkin from her designer handbag and wiped off the wood of the bleacher seat. Then she carefully turned around and took a seat. She was wearing a pale blue bodycon dress with four-inch stilettos that looked like blue snakeskin.

  Sarahi eyed Hannah’s attire up and down, and her lips twitched.

  “I like this look. Very wild kingdom.”

  Hannah just shook her head. How else could she respond?

  Also, why was Sarahi sitting beside her again?

  Was it possible?

  Did she have a bleacher friend? Someone to sit with at the games?

  The idea was so sudden and fun that Hannah found herself grinning at Sarahi.

  “Cut it out. You look like a lunatic.”

  Hannah’s grin shrank to a smile and she turned her attention back to the kids warming up on the hardwood. Which just happened to be right between her and the concession stand.

  “Every year the school asks him to participate in the bachelor auction,” Sarahi supplied without prompting. “And every year he says no. It makes me wonder if he just said yes and let the women tear each other to pieces, it would be finished.”

  Hannah chuckled. “He’s your cousin?” She tried to remember what Sarahi had told her last week. Cousin sounded right.

  “Our mothers are sisters.” Sarahi took a breath. “It’s a long story.”

  Hannah’s gaze flicked up and down Sarahi again. She still couldn’t get a read on this woman who had apparently decided to adopt her as a bench-mate. To Hannah, Sarahi looked like she’d fit in better with the wealthy side of the spectators. Her shoes, bag, and dress were all designer.

  But there were little things that didn’t seem to fit that persona.

  Sarahi wasn’t wearing makeup. At first glance, no one would notice. Her dark eyes and thick black lashes provided a perfect frame. Her hair wasn’t professionally styled. It hung in black, curly ringlets around her shoulders—healthy, clean, no styling products.

  Her nails were bare. Well-manicured and strong. But no polish.

  And she held her head with her chin parallel to the ground. Shoulders back, spine straight. And she drew attention.

  Men and women alike stared openly
at her when she entered a room. But she didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe she was really that indifferent to public opinion.

  The idea was foreign to Hannah as she had spent so many years being very aware of public opinion. The public and how they viewed her was how she had stayed relevant and made most of her money.

  Also, it should be mentioned that Sarahi didn’t seem to mind being seen with Hannah and the face paint.

  Interesting.

  This week’s game was against a different school. Hannah didn’t see the girl from last week who had given Piper a hard time.

  And boy, was she proud of that little firecracker. Piper never seemed to tire. She ran up and down the court with ease. Probably because of the extra practice she’d been doing in the condo building. She’d been running sprints in the stairwell and underground garage.

  Hannah joined her occasionally for the extra exercise, but Piper was like a machine.

  By halftime she had barely broken a sweat.

  “I’m so thirsty.” Sarahi pointed her toes on one foot, showing off her eye-catching heels. “I’m afraid if I push my luck on these stairs, I’ll break my neck. Would you get me a bottle of water?”

  Hannah stood. “Sure. Anything else? Chili dog? Nachos? Something sloppy with red food coloring?” she teased.

  Sarahi narrowed her eyes threateningly and Hannah laughed before hopping down the bleacher stairs.

  This could work.

  It wasn’t a conventional friendship by any means.

  But it was weirdly genuine.

  The line for Johnny hadn’t dwindled by halftime. Hannah was beginning to think that maybe Shawn getting roped into these weekends was just a way for the school to make more money selling overpriced bottled water and popcorn.

  She slid into the line that seemed to be moving a hell of a lot faster.

  Johnny’s laugh caught her attention and their eyes met briefly. He squinted, probably trying to figure out if it was really her.

  Then it was her turn.

  “Two waters, please,” she said to Shawn, who to his credit only gaped for a second.

  Shawn set the waters on the counter and took the bill she’d set down. She picked up the bottles and sent one more smirk to Johnny.