Aria (Duet Series Book 1)

by Jennifer Hartmann

  She’d offered a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, but Noah hadn’t probed further. He knew Chelsie might be able to keep secrets from her boyfriend, but she always came around with him.

  “Imma head out,” Miles said, throwing his bass over his shoulder. “See you fuckers there.”

  Noah nodded as his phone vibrated in his pocket. Chelsie had sent a selfie of her and Sam. His son was holding up a piece of paper that said, “Have fun, Dad!” and Chelsie was giving a thumbs up. Noah grinned as he studied the photo.

  Goddamn, she fit into their lives so perfectly.

  It was a short drive to the local dive bar called ‘Ernie’s’. The Freeze Frame members generally went unnoticed by the fellow patrons. There was the occasional swooning fan, and plenty of ‘they look familiar’ whispers – but, for the most part, the band could enjoy their drinks in peace.

  “Four shots of Blue Label, honey,” Miles said to the bleached blonde server as he leaned over the bar. Noah scowled at his friend’s complete lack of chivalry towards his girlfriend. Miles was a dog and he wasn’t very good at hiding it. He was surprised Lisa tolerated his antics, considering what a straight-edged woman she was.

  “Noah Hayes?”

  Ah, shit. Noah was in no mood to cater to the fans tonight. He just wanted to drink his whiskey and get the hell out. He turned towards the bubbly voice and came face-to-face with a posse of young girls in low-cut blouses.

  “I’ll do a quick autograph,” he said as politely as he could. The girls danced around as they pulled out their cell phones and tried to capture selfies with the guitarist.

  “Have a good night, girls. Don’t drink and drive.”

  “Thanks, Noah!”

  “Marry me!”

  Noah sighed and joined his friends at one of the high-top tables. “Jesus, Dev, are you trying to out-drink the whiskey master?” he joked, noting the three empty shot glasses in front of Devon.

  Devon looked up with surprise. It was the first amiable thing Noah had said to him all week. His eyes narrowed and he looked back down at his beer. “I didn’t know it was a competition,” he said stiffly.

  The hidden parallel did not go unnoticed. What also did not go unnoticed was Devon’s sudden interest in alcohol. He had always been the “professional” one in the band – he’d been rigorous about doing things by the book and not letting any vices get in the way of their music.

  Drugs, alcohol, casual sex – those were all things Devon stayed away from. He was the one they looked up to.

  Now, Devon was drinking heavily almost every night. He was getting stoned on a regular basis. He was forgetting lines, singing out of key, and losing his temper with the guys at every practice. “What the hell is going on with you lately?” Noah asked.

  “What the fuck do you mean?” Devon leaned back in his chair, rocking on its rear legs.

  “The drinking. The pot. The shit attitude.”

  Devon scoffed at the accusations. “I’ve spent my whole life being a do-gooder. It’s time to stop being a pussy and actually enjoy myself.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Noah argued. “You can enjoy yourself without getting inebriated every night and treating us like crap.”

  Noah knew enough about Devon to know he had always felt the need to stand out. Growing up with four brothers had given him a competitive drive unlike the average person. When they had been in sports together, Devon needed to be the one to score the goals and make the points. When his older brother became an auto mechanic, Devon needed to become a better auto mechanic. When they had started the band, simply playing local shows wasn’t good enough. Devon needed his name in lights.

  He had gotten his way, as he always had. He had fame, money, and the perfect woman on his arm. He had it all. Where does someone go when they’re already at the top?

  They fall.

  Devon ran a hand through his mess of sandy hair. “Get off my back, Hayes.”

  “Dude, I’m just trying to help you.”

  “Don’t need your help,” Devon said. “If you want to help, you can stop sniffing after my girl.”

  Tad’s voice broke through the budding argument. “Hey, who the fuck is that guy?”

  Noah let the insult go and surveyed the crowded room. “What guy?”

  “That dude over there keeps staring at us. I’m used to the women, but that motherfucker is creeping me out.”

  Noah’s eyes landed on a twenty-something man with light, blonde hair. He was wearing a red and black plaid shirt with scuffed jeans. He had a chiseled jaw line, prominent nose, and there was an icy look in his dark eyes. He was leaning against the bar with a beer in his hand and he was staring right at them.

  “Just some fan, my man.” Devon burst out laughing. “Shit, that rhymed.”

  Noah rolled his eyes, hoping he wouldn’t be on lead singer duty tonight. Devon was already intoxicated.

  “He doesn’t look like a fan,” Miles observed. “He looks like he wants a piece of us. Should we kick his ass?”

  “Maybe he wants a piece of us,” Devon snickered. “It’s not just women who want to get in our pants.”

  Noah looked back over at the mystery man. He still hadn’t taken his eyes off their group, specifically Devon.

  “Fuck, he’s coming over here,” Tad said.

  The man approached their table, his posse trailing behind. Noah resigned himself to the fact that he wasn’t going to have a peaceful night, after all.

  “Look at these fucking jokesters,” the man said, folding his arms over his puffed-out chest.

  “Who the hell are you talking to?” Miles stood up from his seat, ready for a fight.

  Noah held his arm out in front of Miles. “Can we help you?”

  “Which one of you is Devon Sawyer?” He sneered in Devon’s direction. “My guess is it’s this pussy right here.”

  Devon flew out of his seat.

  One of the man’s cronies stepped forward with a grin. “I think you’re right, Ian.”

  Noah froze. Could it be? He stepped forward, getting right in the man’s face. “What’s your name?”

  “Why the fuck do you care?” The man spit to his left. “Unless you’re Devon Sawyer, get the fuck out of my way.”

  “Ian?” Noah continued. He had to be sure.

  Devon appeared next to him. “Dude, who is this guy? You know him?”

  Noah ignored his friend and continued to bore holes into the man. “Answer me.”

  “Yeah, so what? My name is Ian.” He looked back at Devon with a diabolical jeer. “Your buddy has something of mine.”

  Noah could feel it in his bones. This was the Ian. This was the man who’d destroyed, abused, and demoralized Chelsie Combs. This was the man who’d stolen her innocence – who’d beaten, raped, and terrorized her. Noah felt a surge of red-hot adrenaline course through his veins.

  Instinct and vindication for Chelsie took over and he lunged, tackling Ian to the bar floor and pummeling him with his fists.

  “Fucking hell!” Devon shouted.

  Noah felt hands pulling at him, but he pushed them away. He was zoned out and running on pure vengeance. He wasn’t thinking about consequences or repercussions. He wasn’t worried about the cameras in his face or the flock of stunned bystanders. He had no concern for the fact that his bandmates were yelling and swearing at him, begging him to stop.

  The only thing on his mind was making this man suffer. Blood spurted from Ian’s nose as Noah continued his furious blows. Ian gained control and managed to get the upper hand. He landed a hard fist square in Noah’s jaw, rendering him momentarily dazed. Noah tasted the salty trickle of blood in his mouth as Ian flipped them both over and mounted Noah. He heard a ringing in his ears when another blow connected with his face and his head struck against the tile floor. He was about to throw another punch when Ian was pulled off him, arms flailing. His face was unrecognizable from the blood spatter.

  “You’re a fucking dead man!” Ian threatened. “You are done. Fucki
ng finished! I swear to God!”

  “Your ass is going to jail,” one of the men added in contempt. “My brother will make sure you rot.”

  Noah sat up on his elbows and wiped the blood from his mouth. Miles and Tad were by his side, helping him to his feet. “Stay away from Chelsie.”

  Police cars flew by outside the window, lights flashing and sirens blaring. Noah glanced at Devon, who seemed to be in his own daze. He was looking back and forth between himself and Ian with a mask of confusion – or was that realization?

  “Dude… what the hell, man,” Miles said in frustration. “Do you have any idea the steaming pile of shit you just brought on all of us? What was that?” He tossed a napkin at him and Noah held it against his mouth.

  Reality sank in and Noah cursed under his breath. He’d royally fucked up. He tried to regain his composure as a group of police officers approached them.

  “I’m pressing charges!” Ian bellowed as soon as a cop walked up. “This asshole jumped me unprovoked. I want his punk ass thrown in jail.”

  ***

  Noah stepped into his house, his body riddled with aches and pains from the fight. He and Devon had sent multiple texts to Chelsie with no response. They had assumed she’d fallen asleep. It was a little after 3 A.M. and the house was completely dark, save for a dim light coming from the kitchen. Noah was not surprised to find Chelsie sound asleep on the couch with a blanket pulled up to her chest – however, he was both startled and charmed to find his son passed out on top of her. He stepped over to the couch and studied his favorite people. Sam rose and fell with each one of Chelsie’s breaths. His arm was hanging over the side of the sofa and a dribble of drool stained the blanket beneath his face. Chelsie was on her back with her head tilted to the side. Her fingers were tangled in her hair.

  Noah was content. The evening’s arduous events left his mind. His body didn’t hurt, and his jaw wasn’t swollen. Ian was a distant memory – or did he even exist? Noah wasn’t sure. All he could see was Chelsie and his son. He imagined a life where this was what he came home to every night.

  “Noah?”

  Noah had been so lost in thought, he hadn’t noticed Chelsie’s eyes flutter open. She lifted her head to see him better in the dark.

  “Hey.”

  “You’re home,” she whispered. She tried to sit up, then noticed the extra weight across her chest. Noah could make out her small smile through the shadows. “I guess we passed out reading Clifford books.”

  Noah leaned over and swooped Sam up as carefully as possible. Sam collapsed like a rag doll against his chest. “Hey, buddy. Off to bed.”

  Sam muttered something unintelligible, his eyes never opening.

  “Be right back. Sorry I’m so late,” Noah said to Chelsie as he turned to carry his son to his bedroom. When he returned, Chelsie was sitting up on the couch, wrapped in a fleece blanket. A lamp had been turned on, lighting up the room and casting attention to the wounds on Noah’s face.

  Chelsie leaped up when she noticed. “Noah? Oh, my God.” She ran to him, her hands reaching for his swollen face.

  Noah closed his eyes. He knew this might be the last time she was this close to him after he told her about his altercation. “Combs, I fucked up,” he said. He studied her face as curiosity, worry, and confusion flickered in her eyes. She grazed her thumb across his inflamed bottom lip, sending a tremor right through him. It took all his willpower not to kiss her right there in the middle of his living room. He went against everything his body was telling him and lowered her hands away from his face.

  She chewed on her bottom lip and slipped her hands into the pockets of her sweatpants. “Did I hurt you?”

  Noah sighed and shook his head. “You’re going to want to be as far away from me as possible when I tell you about my night.”

  Chelsie did not step away from him like he’d assumed. The concern did not fade from her eyes. She stood her ground, their bodies inches apart. “Noah, tell me what happened.”

  ***

  Chelsie wondered if she’d invaded Noah’s personal space. Her nurturing instincts had kicked in and she couldn’t contain the rush of empathy she felt when she’d laid eyes on his wounds. A million scenarios raced through Chelsie’s mind as she digested his words.

  Noah let out a heavy breath and looked up at the ceiling, as if silently asking for courage. “Shit, I don’t even know where to begin. I guess I should tell you I just spent the last few hours at the county jail.”

  Chelsie inhaled sharply. “What? Are you serious?”

  “I’m serious,” Noah said. “I got into a bar fight. I…” His voice trailed off and he swallowed. “I beat the piss out of your ex.”

  Chelsie’s knees weakened. It felt like she was holding the weight of a thousand men. She stumbled backwards until her ankles collided with the couch, and she fell back onto the cushions. She was at a loss for words. Ian? Her Ian? Noah… beat him up? “I – I don’t even know what to say,” she said. Her skin grew hot. Bile was creeping up to her throat.

  “I feel like you might be in danger now,” Noah said as he approached. He didn’t sit beside her. He kneeled in front of her until they were face-to-face. “I screwed up, Chelsie. When I saw him, I just snapped. I thought of everything he put you through and I wanted to fucking kill him.”

  A mix of emotions flooded her, and Chelsie didn’t know what to think or feel. Ian was clearly keeping tabs on her and her personal life. Not only did he have a vendetta against her, but now with Noah, too. And where was Devon during all of this? Was he in danger?

  So many questions – and yet, Noah was between her knees, his bruised face a mask of frenzy and guilt. Chelsie just wanted to tell him it was okay. She reached her hand out and placed it against his cheek. Dried blood crusted along his jaw line and she wiped at it with her thumb. Noah had taken punches for her. He had defended her honor. How could she be upset with him? “Thank you,” she said. She leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss against his forehead. “No one’s ever stuck up for me like that before.”

  The guilt in Noah’s eyes turned to bewilderment as he studied her. “Chelsie, you shouldn’t be thanking me. I put your life in danger. I compromised the band. I may have ruined Devon’s reputation. I’m an idiot,” he said. “I acted on impulse and I did a lot of damage.”

  “But you did it all for me,” she said, as if that were undoubtedly the only thing that mattered.

  “Exactly. I did it all for my bandmate’s girlfriend, which is also questionable,” Noah replied. He sat back on his heels and ran a hand through his messy hair. “I risked a lot of shit for you, Combs, and I don’t know why.”

  Chelsie didn’t know why either. She didn’t know how their relationship had evolved from loathing enemies, to reluctant allies, to trusted friends, and now to… whatever this was. It felt like a new category in their ever-changing story. “Noah, what did he say to you?”

  Noah stood up and sat beside her on the couch. He exhaled deeply as he leaned back. “Nothing. He was there for Devon. I interceded,” he told her. “Devon had no idea who he was, but he does now.”

  Chelsie’s stomach sunk. Shit. She had told Devon that no one else knew about her history with Ian. Now, he was well-aware she had confided in Noah. “Did you just… attack him?” she gulped.

  Noah tensed his jaw and nodded. “Pretty much. He said Devon ‘had something of his’ – meaning you – and I just flew off the fucking handle.”

  Chelsie felt vindication at the thought of Ian getting pulverized. He was a monster. He deserved every blow. He deserved to know she had gone on without him. She had survived and she was stronger than ever. He wasn’t “it” for her like he had tried to drill into her. He wasn’t the best she’d ever have. And he sure as hell didn’t hold a candle to the men in her life now. Chelsie hoped every strike was a crude reminder of that.

  “I really gave it to him,” Noah continued. “There was blood everywhere. He’s lucky if all he got was a broken nose.”


  Chelsie turned to Noah, her shoulder leaning against the back of the couch. “And you were arrested?” she wondered.

  “Oh, yeah, the cops and paparazzi swarmed the place. He said he’s pressing charges and all that shit. Lawsuit, I’m sure. Devon bailed me out, but I’ve got a court date next month. I’m sure you’ll see it on the news tomorrow morning.”

  “Did he threaten you at all? Or any of us?”

  Noah nodded again. “He said I’m a dead man, but I can take care of myself. It’s you I’m worried about.”

  Chelsie sighed. “At least I’m staying with Devon. I’ll admit, I’d be a little freaked out all alone in my apartment.”

  “We’ll need to up the ante on security,” Noah noted. “The guy is out for blood now.”

  “Noah, are you going to be okay?” Chelsie asked him. “I have your gun. You should take it back. You’re the one he’s going to want to get revenge on.”

  “Absolutely not,” Noah countered. “You need protection. I kicked his ass because of you, and he knows that. You’re still the most vulnerable target.”

  A chill encompassed her. She knew what Ian was capable of. She also knew she didn’t stand a chance against him without a weapon.

  Chelsie’s phone vibrated before she could speak. She saw Devon’s number light up the screen and she swiped to answer the call. “Hey, Devon. I’m about to head out.”

  Devon’s tone was ice cold. “Don’t bother.”

  A wave of anxiety washed over Chelsie. “What?”

  “Look, I’m not ready to talk to you yet. You told Noah everything – before you told me. And you lied about it. I need a night to think.”

  Tears brimmed in her eyes and she pressed her lips together. “I can explain, Devon.” Could she, though? What was there to say? She did lie. There was no getting out of that. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “Stay the night with your other boyfriend. Maybe I’ll be ready to talk tomorrow,” he said.

  “That’s not fair, Devon. It’s not like that.”

  “Tomorrow,” Devon repeated. “Good night.”

  The call disconnected and Chelsie stared at her phone blankly. She tried to register what had just happened. A tear slipped down her cheek. “Devon doesn’t want me to come home,” she sniffed.