Resolution - G String
A Resolution Pact Short Story
Olivia Hawthorne
Contents
BLURB
1. Chloe
2. Gavin
3. Chloe
4. Gavin
5. Chloe
6. Gavin
7. Chloe
8. Gavin
9. Chloe
10. Gavin
11. Chloe
Epilogue
Resolution Pact Short Stories
Also by Olivia Hawthorne
Book Hangover Lounge
About the Author
Sneak Peaks
Copyright ©Resolution- G String;
a Resolution Pact Short Story, 2019
by Olivia Hawthorne
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BLURB
Chloe Kingston: I just wanted to learn how to play the guitar.
Spurred on my one of my Mi Alpha Alpha sorority sisters New Year, New You texts, I decided to take music lessons.
Who knew I’d end up learning to play from the biggest player around, the god of indie rock…Gavin Pierce himself?
I vowed to finish the lessons I’d already paid for and never see him again.
I vowed I wouldn’t be like the throngs of screaming women lining up to spent just a night in his arms.
I vowed I wouldn’t be like every other woman in America, lusting after him so hard it made you stupid.
But I broke that vow, and now there’s no going back.
Gavin Pierce: Rock God. That’s what they called me.
Player.
Lothario.
And I was. I was all those things and more.
But I was also tired of the lifestyle, tired of partying and touring.
So when my big sister needs a favor, I stepped up just for a little break and to give her struggling music store some much needed publicity.
Little did I know I would meet the woman of my dreams, the only one who would be able to save me from myself.
How did I convince her that our one night could become a lifetime together, especially when I didn’t know how to find her again?
——————————————
It’s the New Year! Time to ring your bell with some hot and hunky resolutions!
Join fifteen of your favorite romance authors as their stories get off… on the right foot this year.
Champagne corks aren’t the only things popping!
Chapter One
Chloe
I scribbled in the margins of my book and added a notation to my research document.
I had recently gotten my PhD in psychology, but had decided to keep going and work on my post doctorate research in childhood trauma.
I know, it sounds heavy, but I had a plan. A dream.
One day I would be running a clinic of my own, helping kids face the worst things they’d been through and changing their lives.
I came from one of the most stable, boring families around…but my childhood had been happy. An only child of a college professor and a doctor, I’d been raised in safe, happy comfort.
And I wanted to bring that feeling to as many children as possible.
Even if it meant me sitting alone in my rented furnished suite on New Year’s Eve, pouring over some obscure diagnostic manual looking for more information to build up my research.
And even if it meant spending four months on the other side of the country, alone in a city I’d never been to before, working for a professor who could barely remember my name.
My phone buzzed on the glass coffee table, but I ignored it and kept reading.
It buzzed again, and again and I realized it must be my Mi Alpha Alpha alumni group chat.
The one thing that could tear me away from my research, I missed my friends and my former sorority sisters. I wanted to find out what kind of crazy adventures they were getting up to tonight.
At least somebody was out having fun ringing in the new year.
The chat was along the same lines as what we’d been going over all day…basically getting out of our routines and trying something new.
I promised them I would do it, I would follow our 2019 challenge, and then I silenced the chat and got back to my reading.
There would be time for adventure and trying something new, but not now.
And probably not for at least another few months.
And besides, I was sure they’d all forget about what we’d talked about once they were hung over and waking up next to some hot guys in the morning.
I was bleary eyed when my phone dragged me out of a dream.
It wasn’t a sexy dream, mine never were.
But it was one that thrilled me to the core of my being.
I was being honored by my university for my achievements, the crowd was huge and cheered as the university chancellor handed me a check for a couple million dollars.
And then there were penguins dancing on stage with me, and I dove down a long water slide into a vat of chocolate pudding.
Hey, I said it was a dream and I said it wasn’t sexy.
I was irritated, I’d been up reading until the wee hours of the morning and had even jumped up and poured myself a sparkling water at midnight so I could celebrate by proxy with all the people screaming and carrying on in my apartment building.
But now I wanted sleep.
And the phone wouldn’t shut up.
I grabbed it and read a text from Stacy, my sorority president, and I groaned.
Apparently booze and sex hadn’t made any of them forget our chat from the previous night and we were still on for trying new things, new year and new you kind of stuff.
“Remember, ladies. Do it. Whatever it is you want to do. Wherever you have wanted to go. Whatever you want to try, to taste, to feel, to live....do it. This is our year.”
I could practically hear the excitement behind her words, but all I could muster was a ‘thumbs up’ emoji reaction before I muted the conversation again and went back to sleep.
When I woke later on, I showered and grabbed my laptop to start writing again, but Stacy’s text had wormed its way into the back of my consciousness.
I hadn’t been that serious about my resolution, I knew it was something people did but never followed through with.
So why did it nag at me somewhere?
I was twenty five and had to face the facts.
I was boring.
I was a homebody and unapologetically spent most of my free time with my nose in a book. If my mom hadn’t been a college alumni and a sorority sister herself, I never would have even gotten into Mi Alpha Alpha.
And don’t get me wrong, I was grateful for the time I spent with my sisters, they’d given me the wildest times of my life.
In fact I’d probably still be a virgin if it wasn’t for the encouragement of my sorority sisters, always throwing crazy parties and drawing me out of my shell.
But that text, damn that text.
I thought about what I wanted to do, what I’d told the group chat my resolution was going to be.
Music lessons.
I’d always wanted to learn how to play the guitar but I’d never had the time. It had always seemed like a useless hobby to have, something I kept putting off for later, and later, but later had never
seemed to come.
So why not now? Why not learn the play in 2019?
I took in a deep breath and exhaled, a dramatic sigh that was a little out of character for me.
I replied to Stacy’s text, “I’m on it, I’m learning to play the guitar this year even if it kills me!!”
And then I googled music lessons, decided not to overthink it or research reviews and ask for recommendations…and booked my first one.
It was almost exhilarating, to not delve deeply into the finer details of a project before making a decision.
And it was nerve wracking.
But it was done.
The day after tomorrow I was going to the Peg’s Music and starting the year off on the right note.
Chapter Two
Gavin
“I have to think about it,” I told my agent over lunch at her favorite sushi spot.
I hated sushi but ate it to fit in with the image I had of big city rocker.
I’d grown up in Seattle, but just outside in a sleepy suburb.
Until I was eleven when I’d lost my parents in a house fire.
My sister and I had been shuffled to a group home in the city and I’d been tossed into the rough streets with no preparation.
But here I was, sitting in LA with Gail Adams…agent to the stars. She was single handedly responsible for the success of at least ten Rock n Roll Hall of Famers that I knew of.
I picked at the rice and held the chopsticks in one hand while Gail frowned and rolled her eyes.
“You’re joking, right? You have to go. You are headlining the biggest European tour of the year. This is the opportunity you’ve been waiting for, you’re…well fuck, you’re an idiot if you don’t take it,” she said. Her voice was forceful and her intent was clear.
She wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
But I didn’t want to fucking go.
I needed a break, I’d been on tour eleven out of twelve months for every year since I was discovered at the age of eighteen.
So for ten years now, I had about ten months of down time, vacation. Now I needed some time with my sister back in Seattle, back in my old neighborhood.
Back where nobody cared that I was Gavin Pierce. I was just Peg’s little brother Gav.
To top it off, I’d gotten drunk out of my fucking mind about a month back and had broken my ankle jumping off the roof of my buddy’s pool cabana.
I’d been aiming for the pool itself but had missed and had been using the time to do some studio work instead of touring, but everybody knew you made the real money once you hit the road.
I took a deep breath and shook my head. “I’ll think about it. You know this cast comes off in a couple weeks. I’ll tell you then.”
I could see the muscle in her jaw tense up and she ground her teeth, but she didn’t push. She knew I was as stubborn as she was, and if this was a battle of wills, she had more to lose than I did.
“Fine,” she snapped and picked up a thin slice of salmon sashimi, flipped it into her mouth and chewed angrily as she glared at me across the table. “I’ll give you exactly two weeks and that’s it. The minute they cut that fucking thing off your foot, you’re mine again.”
“Sounds good to me,” I said with a grin and drained my glass of sake. The strong alcohol warmed my belly and added to my calm sense of smug accomplishment.
I had two…or three weeks to spend with my sister Peg, and then after that it was up to me where I went.
“Oh my god!” Peg squealed and jumped to her feet when she saw me. Her customers stood back as she ran across her music store and jumped into my arms. “I can’t believe you’re here, why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
“Is that…”
“Holy shit…”
“Gavin Pierce!”
I heard her customers talking to each other in complete surprise, but I ignored them. I was completely used to it.
“Hold on, sis,” I said and balanced on the cast. She dropped to the ground and looked down.
“Ouch, I forgot. I’m sorry,” she said. “You’re an idiot, you know. But why didn’t you tell me you were coming to the city?”
I wasn’t planning on it until yesterday,” I told her. “I got in about an hour ago.”
“Have you been to the apartment?” she asked.
“Not yet, I’ve got a car waiting outside,” I replied.
“Thank god, it gives me time to beg your forgiveness. I let your plants die, all of them.”
“They were fake.”
“Oh. Well they got really dusty and I threw them out.”
“My interior designer might have something to say, but I don’t give a fuck,” I laughed. I’d only gotten them as an attempt to ‘warm up the place’ as my designer had suggested. “You know you’re welcome to live there when I’m gone. And I’m gone basically most of the time.”
“I know, but it’s such a bachelor pad I wouldn’t feel comfortable there without you. Besides, you bought me such a cozy awesome place on the water, why would I want to be anywhere else?”
“Can you get away right now?” I asked, scanning the store for an employee who could take over for my sister.
“Nope, it’s just me lately. Dinner later?”
“Sounds good, I’ll make reservations.”
“Nothing pretentious, I want a good meal…not a couple wafers covered in gold flecks that cost five hundred bucks because they’re plated nicely.”
“One time,” I rolled my eyes. “One bad recommendation, one time, and you’re never going to let me live it down, are you?”
“Not on your life, little bro,” Peg grinned at me. “You’re looking good though. Tired, a little too skinny, but good.”
“You too,” I replied as I hobbled out of her store.
I heard the customers explode in eager conversation the moment I left and I knew Peg would be fielding questions about her famous rock star brother for the next hour or so.
I just hoped it got her a few sales, other than the apartment and an operation for her cat, Peg refused to take money from me. It bothered me to see her talent being wasted in her music store, but I wished her nothing but success at it.
I climbed back into the car I’d hired for the weeks I was here and told the driver my address.
I hadn’t ever given up on living in Seattle one day and had splurged with my first hit record royalties and bought a penthouse on the water.
It wasn’t that close to Peg’s little walk up a ways out of the city, mine was right down town and had a view of the ocean and the islands beyond.
I owned the top two floors of the building, it had come fully furnished in leather and chrome and expensive art, and I’d hired a designer to give it a personal touch.
So now it looked exactly like a poor kid from the wrong side of town had fallen into a vat of money and tried to buy some taste.
But at least it impressed enough women that I never slept alone if I didn’t want to.
It was a lonely life, but I wasn’t alone.
Still…I was starting to think about settling down. Quitting the tour lifestyle and finding a good woman.
But what kind of woman was willing to shack up with a guy like me?
A notorious playboy with a bad boy reputation and a party history that would follow him for years to come.
It’s not like I could expect an ordinary woman to take a chance on me, to get to know the real me beneath the persona. I’d wind up stuck with some psychotic starlet with an eating disorder and a dark side.
It seemed sometimes as if I’d be lonely forever, surrounded by legions of screaming fans and lustful women.
I slept until it was time to leave for dinner, found a diner I thought Peg would like, and picked her up as her store closed.
We settled into the booth, as usual I ignored the stares and whispers of anyone who recognized me, and listened to Peg complain about her day.
“I’m so overworked, dude, you have no idea,” she said and we ordere
d our drinks.
The place was exactly what I’d expected, kind of a dive but you could be sure to get something delicious and home cooked. Not sushi, not keto, and not anything I’d eat in LA, but I would enjoy every last crumb of it.
“Can I help out while I’m here?” I asked.
“You’re here for what, two weeks? Maybe three? I doubt you could do much in that time,” she said. “Besides, you’d probably attract too much attention.”
“I could give a few lessons. Just here and there,” I replied. “Nobody would really need to know. But if they happened to find out it would be good for business.”
The waitress interrupted us at that point to take our orders. Peg got her usual, cheeseburger with onion rings and a small house salad on the side. I got a double mushroom and Swiss with extra fries and gravy.
The waitress scribbled our order in her notebook, turned away and then looked back at us.
With a hesitant smile on her face, she said, “Gavin Pierce?”
“That’s me, sweetheart,” I replied.
“Oh my god, wow. I can’t believe it’s you. I love your music. Your song, ‘One Heart’ got me through my last break up.”
“I’m glad I could help,” I replied and ignored Peg’s smirk. She still couldn’t believe her bratty little brother was so famous and made women so crazy.
“Could I get your autograph and maybe a selfie?” she asked and giggled when I nodded my head.
Resolution: G-String (Resolution Pact) Page 1