Aria (Duet Series Book 1)

by Jennifer Hartmann

  Noah made his way up the staircase, relieved there was almost an end in sight. But he froze when Devon had seemingly vanished. Noah set Chelsie down on the nearby couch and pulled out his phone to call his bandmate. Before he could call, he noticed an unread text message from ten minutes earlier.

  It was from Devon.

  “Gotta bail. Meeting Sean at the studio 2 work on somethin major. Make sure the girls get home safe. You're still an asshole.”

  Noah's stomach soured. He glanced at a comatose Chelsie, then back at his phone. Then again at Chelsie. Realization hit him that his plan had completely backfired, and he was left solely in charge of taking care of this woman. Deep breath. Stay calm. You can do this. To make matters worse, he had no idea where Chelsie even lived. Noah had paid no attention during the drive over to her apartment.

  He called Devon, but it went straight to voice mail.

  Fuck.

  Noah only had Julia’s number written on a gum wrapper in his car. He cursed himself for not saving it into his phone. His only other option was to take Chelsie back to the hotel with him. It sounded like the worst possible idea, but he couldn't think of anything else through his foggy alcohol buzz. Noah stepped over to Chelsie and leaned down to scoop her up. She looked so peaceful – so content. So unaware she was about to be whisked away to a strange hotel with a man she loathed. Noah was certain she was going to castrate him come sunrise. He made a mental note to remove all sharp objects from the room.

  "Here goes nothing," he said as he lifted the petite blonde into his arms. "At least you don't weigh anything."

  Chelsie stirred, her eyes fluttering open. "I want French fries," she slurred. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck and nestled her head against his shoulder.

  Noah tensed, trying to ignore her soft hair tickling his neck. "French fries sound great."

  5 Chapter Five

  Something startled Chelsie awake. It could have been the pounding headache, or it could have been the blinding sunlight that pooled across her face. Or maybe it was the strange bed she was sleeping in, while still wearing last night’s clothes. Chelsie’s mouth was dry, and her stomach was hollow. Her entire body was sore. She blinked a few times as her eyes adjusted to the light. She sat up and massaged her temples, looking around the room for some sense of familiarity. It appeared to be an upscale hotel room. Had she been date-raped? Kidnapped? A willing participant in a one-night-stand? Chelsie cringed at all three scenarios.

  She set her sights on an adjacent nightstand where she spotted a black, leather wallet. Curious as to who her company was, she snatched it up and began to look through its contents.

  Oh, crap.

  According to the driver's license, the wallet belonged to none other than her best friend, Noah Hayes. Chelsie’s stomach twisted in knots. Why would she be in a hotel room with Noah? She continued to browse through the wallet. She found a large wad of cash, some credit cards, stale pieces of gum, and a photograph. She pulled the small picture out and studied it. It was a photo of a young boy – maybe three or four years old. He had adorable chubby cheeks and light brown hair.

  Not finding anything else of interest, Chelsie discarded the wallet and threw her legs over the side of the bed. She squeaked in surprise when her toes touched a sleeping male body lying on the floor next to her. She popped her legs back up as if she'd almost stepped on hot coals. It didn't take long for her to realize the man was Noah.

  The whole situation was confusing. Where was Devon? Where were Lisa and Julia? Why did it feel like she had been run over by a semi-truck? Weighing her options, Chelsie decided to climb out of bed from the opposite side and tiptoe to the bathroom. Her full bladder was bordering on painful. When she returned, Noah was sitting up and watching her with interest. Not giving him a chance to say anything, Chelsie crossed her arms and began her interrogation.

  "Where the hell am I? What's going on? Where are my friends?" Anger bubbled inside her, as it always did when she was speaking with Noah. No one got under her skin quite like he did.

  "Easy there, tiger," he said, holding his hands up. "What do you remember?"

  Chelsie thought for a moment. What did she remember? She remembered going to the club, having some drinks, arguing with Noah, talking with Devon. Maybe dancing? "I – I don't remember much. Just the usual stuff. Nothing that explains why I'm alone with you in your hotel room."

  Noah stood up. He stretched out his arms with a yawn and scratched his chest. "Well, the short story is that you couldn't resist me. I had no choice but to take you back to my room and make sweet love to you."

  Chelsie felt the color drain from her face. "I sincerely hope you're joking."

  "Of course, I'm joking. You got hammered and I was left in charge of you."

  She stared at him, her mouth agape. “Huh? That doesn't make any sense.”

  "It makes perfect sense. You drank a lot of alcohol and you got intoxicated."

  Chelsie racked her brain for some sort of trigger. She vaguely recalled a tipsy walk to the bathroom with her girlfriends. That was the last thing she remembered. "So, it's pretty much all your fault," Chelsie concluded. She lifted an eyebrow at him. "You bought me all those drinks."

  Noah sniffed at her accusation. "Whatever you say. Just keep in mind I'm the one who took care of you when everyone else bailed."

  Chelsie’s expression soured. Why would her friends leave her alone with Noah? And what kind of guy did that make Devon to ditch her like that?

  What kind of guy did that make Noah for sticking around?

  Chelsie's stance softened and she uncrossed her arms. "Well, thanks… I guess. Why didn't you just take me home?"

  "Trust me, I would have loved to have avoided this exact moment," he said. "I didn’t know where you lived. I didn't have your friends' numbers and Devon turned his phone off. What other choice did I have? Should I have left you at the club?"

  "No," Chelsie said quickly. "I appreciate that you didn't leave me at the club. I'm just having a hard time processing everything." She took a deep breath and made her way over to the bed. She sat down and ran her hands through her tangled hair. "I don't understand why everyone left me there."

  Noah sat down next to her on the bed and the mattress squeaked beneath his weight. "Honestly, it was a misunderstanding. Your friends needed to leave, but you insisted on staying. I offered to take you home with Devon. But by the time they left, Devon had taken off to the studio, thinking you were going home with your friends. That left me," he explained.

  She ducked her head in embarrassment. "Wow. I must have made a fool of myself. I don't usually drink like that." She could only imagine what Devon thought of her now. Would he ever want to see her again?

  "If it makes you feel any better, I can tell Devon likes you. I wouldn't beat yourself up over it," Noah told her.

  Chelsie chewed on the inside of her cheek as she looked up at Noah. She would have thought he'd do anything to get her out of the picture – but here he was, giving her a little bit of hope.

  "That does make me feel better," she replied. "Thanks." They sat in silence for a moment before Chelsie asked the inevitable question every blacked-out drunk girl asked. "Did I do anything… embarrassing?"

  Noah’s eyes flashed with something curious – something she could not pinpoint. What was he hiding?

  Chelsie buried her blushing face into her palms. "I totally barfed on Devon, didn't I?"

  Noah laughed, the mysterious look melting into familiar teasing. "Sadly, no. I would have paid to see that. You danced for most of the night," he told her. "I mean… there was the occasional falling on your ass. And we can't forget the passing out in a bathroom stall."

  Chelsie cringed. "Oh, God."

  "Yeah, I had to carry you out. You were basically unconscious."

  "You carried me?" Chelsie’s tone was incredulous. She was appalled by her behavior.

  "Well, yeah. Unconscious people can't walk. Don't worry, you'll probably see pictures of it in the tabloid
s by tomorrow."

  Chelsie whimpered into her hands. "I'm such an idiot. Noah… that's not me, I swear. I didn't even drink in college."

  Noah's lips curled into a half smile. "Hey, we've all been there. No need to apologize."

  Noah’s change in attitude towards her was alarming. He had taken care of her at the club, carried her out, slept on the floor, and now he was engaging in pleasant conversation. Was he up to something? Chelsie was reluctant to let her guard down, but the new Noah was one she hoped would stick around.

  "Thank you... really." Chelsie couldn’t hide the sincerity in her voice. “I know we haven't been on the best of terms, but I do appreciate you having my back."

  Noah shifted on the bed and scratched the back of his neck. "It's cool. So, should I have the limo take you home? I have some family stuff to do today."

  Chelsie stood up, rummaging for her shoes and purse. "Sure, yeah. I'll get out of your hair." As she searched around the room for her personal belongings, she tried to make idle conversation. "So, your family lives around here? Did you grow up in New York?"

  Noah glanced at her, his gaze flickering with surprise by her interest. "Um… yeah, actually. I have a house not ten miles from here."

  "A house? Why did you get a hotel room then?"

  "I assumed Julia was leaving the club with me last night."

  "Oh." Chelsie blushed. "Why not just take her to your own place?"

  Noah cleared his throat and Chelsie could sense he was not used to talking about his personal life.

  "Sorry," she said, slipping back into her shimmery heels. Her ankles were sore and swollen from the previous night’s adventures. "I didn't mean to pry."

  Noah didn’t answer right away. He took his time lighting a cigarette before returning his eyes to her. "I have family staying with me.”

  Chelsie watched as he blew smoke towards the ceiling and ran a hand through his tousled hair. She could tell he wasn't revealing everything. There was something mysterious about Noah that intrigued her. And what had that look been all about when she’d inquired about her embarrassing behavior?

  What was he not telling her?

  ***

  Noah drove into the studio parking lot with his shiny Mustang GT500 and pulled off his sunglasses. It had been a few hours since Chelsie had left his hotel room and he had yet to speak with Devon. He was curious about this "major" thing Devon had referred to in his text message.

  Stuffing his keys into his pocket, Noah climbed out of the car and entered the studio. He spotted Devon chatting with their manager and agent, Sean Pierce.

  "Yo," Noah called out, garnering the two men's attention.

  Devon had an enthusiastic look on his face, which was a welcome contrast to their previous interaction together. Noah had been expecting a well-deserved punch to the jaw.

  “I figured you'd be here hours ago. Sorry I bailed, but you’re going to shit yourself when you hear the news.” Devon took a sip of his soda and approached Noah. “What the hell took you so long?”

  "I told you, man, I had family stuff to do today. Plus, I had to take care of your girlfriend this morning."

  Devon stalled in his tracks. "What are you talking about?"

  Noah bristled at the memories from the night before. "Chelsie. I was stuck with her last night. I sent Lisa and Julia home, thinking you would take care of her. Then you left, so I had no choice but to bring her back to my hotel room with me." Noah had to take a step back when Devon advanced on him with murderous intent in his blue eyes. "Whoa, nothing happened, all right? I wouldn't do that."

  "You had ‘no choice’? Why didn't you call Julia or Lisa to come back and get her?"

  "I didn't have their numbers."

  "And you didn't think to check Chelsie's phone for their numbers? Or look at her driver’s license for her address?" Devon questioned.

  “I…” Noah paused, realizing he didn't have an answer. Why didn't he do that? He blamed it on the alcohol.

  "Awesome.” Devon let out a caustic laugh. "As if you haven't traumatized her enough, she had to wake up to your ugly mug this morning. Real nice."

  Noah's defenses flared up and he took a step forward. "Hey, now. I took care of the girl last night. I had to physically carry her sorry ass out of the club after she passed out in the bathroom. Where the hell were you?"

  "You know, man, I have no sympathy for you. You made the mess and you deserved to clean it up," Devon shot back.

  It was true. Noah rubbed his hands over his face and sighed. "Fine. You're right. I was an asshole. But I don't want you losing sight of the big picture because of some pretty face."

  "Losing sight? Dude, I just booked us the gig of the century."

  Noah froze, his mind reeling with possible scenarios. "What?"

  Devon's smile returned and he pulled a contract out of his back pocket. "The fuckin' Grammy's, man."

  ***

  It was a cloudy Sunday afternoon. Chelsie had yet to hear from Devon after her embarrassing spectacle from Friday night. She was certain she had scared him away for good. He was probably touring China just to get as far away from her as possible. What kind of idiot epically botches their first date with Devon Sawyer?

  This girl.

  Chelsie was laying on the couch, reading the latest Tarryn Fisher novel and wallowing in her own pathetic misery, when there was a knock at her door. She glanced at the clock, not expecting Lisa to arrive for their lunch date for another hour.

  "Coming," Chelsie muttered. She gave a sharp tug to the messy bun on top of her head. She was still in her pajamas and had yet to take a shower. The dreary day complimented her mood quite nicely. Chelsie stepped over to the door and swung it open, prepared to tease her best friend about her early arrival. Lisa had always been the punctual type.

  Chelsie was unprepared when she found the person standing on the other side of the door to be Noah Hayes.

  "Hey," he said.

  Chelsie was so taken aback by his presence, she could only gawk at him.

  "Uh, can I come in?"

  "No. I – I mean, sure. Um… what are you doing here?" Chelsie found her footing and stepped aside, allowing the musician to enter her apartment. "You're the last person I expected to show up on my doorstep. Especially considering you had no idea where I lived."

  Noah cast her a sheepish grin. "Devon had your address.”

  Her eyes narrowed. "Why are you here?"

  He shoved his hand into his back pocket and pulled out a familiar silver chain. "I found this in the hotel bed yesterday before I checked out. Since you were, unfortunately, the only girl I had in my room that night, I figured it might be yours."

  Chelsie couldn't help the rosy stain from flooding her cheeks. "Uh, right. Yes, that is mine. Thank you.”

  She held out her hand and Noah dropped the delicate necklace into her palm. He fidgeted in the doorway, looking uncharacteristically nervous.

  “So, what do you remember about that night?" he asked.

  Chelsie blinked at him in confusion. "I told you," she said. "I remember taking a bathroom break with the girls, dancing a little, um…" She trailed off when she noticed him shaking his head. "What? Is there something I should know?"

  Noah scratched his head as he regarded her and began pacing her apartment. "I just meant... well, what do you remember after we got back to the hotel?"

  It took a moment for his words to sink in. Chelsie felt her stomach coil with dread. Her mind was reeling with different scenarios – none of them pretty. All of them humiliating. Did she even want to know? "I thought we already had this conversation. I don’t remember anything," Chelsie admitted. She swallowed back the lump in her throat and monitored his expression carefully.

  Noah's face remained unreadable at first. Then the corner of his mouth curled into a familiar, taunting grin. "I could really have fun with this, you know."

  Chelsie was in no mood. "Noah, please. Just tell me." She paused and added, "And then shoot me."

  Noah sighe
d and folded his arms in front of him. "Okay, look. You told me some things you probably wouldn't have told me if you were sober. Some pretty heavy stuff."

  Chelsie’s blood ran cold and she felt her knees start to give out. She lowered herself to the sofa. "W – What?"

  "Well, we were having a rare bonding moment over French fries, and then you decided to tell me about your ex. I think his name was Ian?"

  This wasn't happening. Was this happening?

  Noah continued. "I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable. I just wanted to apologize for being a dick to you and let you know your secrets are safe with me."

  Chelsie tried to speak, but it felt as if all the air had been sucked out of her lungs. She was sick to her stomach. All she could do was bow her head and try to hold back her tears. Lisa was the only one she had trusted with her past. How could she have told Noah? He was completely unworthy of knowing her dark secrets. And oh, were they dark. "I – I don't know what to say.”

  Noah looked out of his element. He stood back up and rubbed the back of his neck. "We can, uh, talk about it… if you want."

  "God, I don't even want to know what I said," Chelsie whimpered. She hated that Noah was seeing her so vulnerable.

  "Hey, it's not a big deal. Like I said, I won't tell anyone. Not even Devon."

  Chelsie swallowed and looked up at him, her stormy eyes glistening. "It is a big deal. It's a huge deal.” Her voice caught in her throat and she took a deep, shaky breath. "My past is something I try to forget every day."

  "You told me that," Noah said. His tone was strangely sympathetic. "But your past is something that happened to you. It's not who you are."

  She blinked back the tears and nodded in agreement. "Look at you – being all insightful."

  "What, you think I made it this far on just my looks?"

  "Not at all. I figured it was a toss-up between your charming personality and your uncanny ability to make a girl feel special,” Chelsie quipped. “I know I was swept off my feet."