Between Breaths (The Seattle Sound Series Book 2)

by Alexa Padgett

  “I’m sorry for your inconvenience but we have no rooms.”

  I tapped my sunglasses on the counter. “Oh, no. I’m checking in to Hayden’s room,” I leaned forward to whisper with a smile.

  Lotte smiled politely and typed on her computer. “Mr. Crewe didn’t leave any instructions for us to allow anyone up to his suite.” She shook her head.

  Well, there went the easiest route. I kept my smile in place but my heart rate ratcheted up and sweat gathered at the back of my neck. I pulled my phone out.

  “I’ll just text him to clarify the confusion. Does he need to come back from the Melkweg to sign me in? That’s not his normal routine. Well, I hope it doesn’t throw him off his performance tonight.” I nibbled at my lower lip.

  “I wouldn’t want to inconvenience Mr. Crewe,” the girl said, clearly at a loss. I kept my head bent over my phone.

  “I understand. Let me just finish this and we’ll get it all cleared up,” I said, my fingers flying over the screen.

  Lotte set a key card in front of me. “Pleasure to have you staying with us, Ms. Moore.” I lifted my head to see the girl flash a smile, her dimples dancing. “Mr. Crewe will be happy, I believe. He’s been . . . restless,” she finished with a shrug.

  “Ah. Didn’t he get to run? That helps.”

  “The fans mobbed him by the canal.”

  I frowned. “He doesn’t like that part,” I muttered to myself.

  “That is why I didn’t ask for his autograph.” Her cheeks deepened from pink to rose. “Though I would like one, if possible.”

  I snagged the card off the counter and grabbed my bag. “I’ll see what I can do,” I said. “Which room?”

  “The Room at the Top. Up the stairs. That suite offers the most privacy and the best view of the city.” She nodded toward the narrow flight tucked across the lobby.

  “Thank you, Lotte. Are you working tomorrow?”

  She nodded. I smiled, hoping neither of us would be in trouble. “See you then.”

  “A pleasure, Ms. Moore.”

  Hayden’s room was nice, but they always were. Not overly big but the beamed ceiling added ambience. I stood at the window for a few minutes, soaking up my first view of Amsterdam, before heading to the shower. I needed to wash off the plane ride and take a nap so I was ready for the night ahead.

  Clean, but only mildly more awake, I pinned up my damp hair, wanting fat curls to flow down to my bare shoulders. I was sure Hayden would like running his fingers through them. As I sat on the bed, fatigue threatened to pull me under. I yawned hard, tears gathering in the corners of my eyes. Jet lag was no joke, especially on top of days of little to no sleep. I should call Lia. At least text her.

  I’d set my purse on Hayden’s desk. I walked to it and pulled out my phone, shooting off a quick note. Lia responded immediately.

  I’m going to need all the details.

  I smiled and dropped my phone back into my purse. I missed and it landed on some of Hayden’s papers. Picking up my phone, my eyes caught the top sheet.

  It was some sort of itinerary. Seattle. From Berlin. That was scratched out. Brussels was listed below. The date was in three days.

  A name—probably the company owner or a pilot—was under the jetliner’s name, all scrawled out in Hayden’s slanting script. Picking up the paper, I pressed my other hand to my chest.

  He’d scheduled a flight back to see me. On the only open two days in his schedule for the next six weeks, he’d planned to fly across the Atlantic and the entire US to see me. He’d told me he wanted me in his life. Here was the proof that he’d work hard to make that happen—on my terms.

  I set the paper down, smoothed my hand over it. We’d talk our relationship through, he and I. We’d work through his confusion and my feelings of betrayal. Because my relationship with Hayden was once in a lifetime.

  I yawned again, my jaw popping. Four hours until I needed to be at the venue. I slid into Hayden’s bed in just my panties and a cami. I inhaled his scent, already more at peace than I’d been in days.

  I woke to a light tapping on the door. “Ms. Moore? You didn’t answer the wake-up call.”

  “Crap!”

  I scrambled from the bed and ran to the door, opening it just a little. “Thank you,” I murmured.

  “You are most welcome. Anything else I can help you with?” Lotte asked, hands folded demurely in front of her.

  “Nope. All good.”

  I flew into the bathroom to wash my face. I’d slept longer than I’d anticipated, leaving me less than thirty minutes to get to the venue.

  I quickly added some mascara and a touch of lip gloss before pulling on my backless silk top. I wiggled into my skinny jeans and slid on a pair of beige wedges. Unpinning my hair, I despaired I didn’t have the time to style it better.

  I grabbed my purse and hustled out of the room.

  The walk to the Melkweg would have been much more fascinating if I weren’t so anxious. I should’ve waited for Hayden at the hotel, talked to him there, in private. Or just called to let him know I wanted to fly out and be with him. He’d invited me to New York . . . I didn’t have anything to worry about.

  I owed him a grand gesture. He’d told the world he loved me, and I’d returned his feelings with skepticism and fear. I wanted to show him I was willing to embrace his fame, all of him.

  Cameras flashed as I walked up to the window, showing them the all-access pass Asher had gotten through his record label. Knowing the right people made this process so much easier.

  I put the lanyard around my neck and worked my way through the mass of bodies, some talking, some drinking, many wearing way less clothing than I was. I took a deep breath and headed toward the side entrance. Time to see Hayden.

  I pulled out my phone and texted Lia, needing some support. I’m scared shitless. Not sure I can do this.

  She’d been waiting for a message from me based on how quickly my phone lit up with her reply. He’s the one who told the world he loves you. Claim your man.

  I tucked my phone back into my small purse and lifted my chin. I walked up to the first official-looking man I found. He was big and broad, probably a member of the security team. I flashed him a smile but he didn’t so much as blink.

  “I’m looking for Hayden,” I yelled over the current band.

  “Who isn’t?” the guy growled.

  I showed him my pass and he pulled me forward by the lanyard, a scowl deepening on his face as he turned it toward the light. “Haven’t seen one of these.” He glared at me. “Wait here.”

  He moved to take it off, but I stopped his hand. “It’s mine. I got it from my—” How did I categorize Asher?

  He whipped it off my head, and I winced as the lanyard caught in my hair. “No, sweetheart. When it comes to an all-access pass, only the band and record executives decide who gets ’em.”

  Shit. I couldn’t get any closer to the band, and he knew I knew it. Smiling, the security guard pushed forward and was swallowed by the crowd.

  Unsure what to do, I followed. Well, sort of. I couldn’t move past the crowd like the security hulk did, and most people weren’t as willing to let me through.

  The guy disappeared through a set of doors. I fidgeted. Would he come back? I didn’t know.

  A man said something to me, probably in Dutch. I shrugged. Pointing to the stage then my ears.

  He gave me another once-over and then walked on, sucking on his beer.

  The song ended and still I stood there. The opening band bowed and the lights came up. I pulled out my phone and texted Lia. Some security guard took my pass. I don’t know what to do.

  She didn’t respond.

  People swirled around me, laughing and chatting. The door that the security guard passed through opened and another guy came out. Dark hair, lots of tattoos. Hooded, cynical eyes. Then I recognized him: Jackaroo’s guitarist, Murphy Etsam.

  He beckoned me over. People turned to look at him, some of the girls gasping and call
ing his name. He ignored them all, eyes on me.

  “Briar?”

  “Yes. Hayden calls you Ets.”

  I started to put out my hand for him to shake, but he crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. My spine stiffened as he did a once-over, starting at my feet.

  “Can’t say I think you’re that special.”

  “You don’t have to,” I said, my eyes narrowing. “I’m here to see Hayden.”

  Ets smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “That’s the rub of it. Ben found me. And I’m not letting you in.”

  I raised an eyebrow but my heart slammed against my ribs.

  “You’re a cool one, I’ll give you that.” He leaned forward. “But you’ve fucked with Hayden’s head. He can’t keep it in the music. That’s because of you, and I don’t like what you’ve done to him.”

  In all the possibilities I’d considered, this wasn’t one of them. I knew the situation between Hayden and Ets was strained, but I didn’t think he’d try to stop me from seeing Hayden.

  “Look, I don’t want to cause any problems between you,” I started. My phone beeped and I resisted the urge to look at it.

  “You already have. Everything was fine before he went to Seattle.”

  “Are you really going to try to stop me from seeing Hayden?”

  “No. I’m not trying. I’m doing. He’s sandwiched between two groupies and looks happy as a clam. So turn around and go home.”

  He shut the door in my face. I blinked, disbelief warring with anger and shame. The shame won and my face burned. People saw that—heard him talk to me that way. My phone beeped again. I pulled it out.

  Lia said simply, Text Hayden.

  But—two groupies? Of course I knew how easy it was to get sex. Still, he’d told me he loved me. Last time Ets pulled something like this, Hayden stayed up all night to ensure he told me his version of the story.

  I’d believe him. Hayden wanted me here.

  I pulled up his name. I’m here, at Melkweg. I wanted it to be a surprise, but Ets just shut the side door in my face. Maybe because you told him to? If you want me to leave, I will.

  “You’re Briar. Hayden’s Briar.” I turned to find a young girl looking at me.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You’re Hayden’s girlfriend. Why didn’t Ets let you backstage?”

  The girl’s friend asked her a question, eyeing me. She answered, and the groupie’s gaze turned apprising. “Marie wants to know if you can get us backstage passes.”

  I shook my head. “The security guard took mine,” I said. My chest ached.

  “Why would the security guard take your pass?”

  I glanced over and saw a growing group of people surrounding me. Someone snapped my picture. Another flash.

  “Why aren’t you backstage with Hayden?” someone in the crowd called—probably a reporter.

  “Did you break up with him because he was cheating?” another asked.

  “Are you angry he didn’t come to your friend’s funeral?”

  “Do you like to do threesomes?”

  The questions shot at me, so rapid-fire they landed over each other, hard to tease apart and understand. More flashes as more people took my picture. I was hemmed in, surrounded. I pressed against the wall. Stupid move, and I regretted it immediately. The crowd leaned in, pressing closer. The camera flashes caused my head to ache.

  “Please, back up. I need some space.”

  “What brings you to a Jackaroo concert?”

  “Did you and Hayden get married in Seattle?”

  “Back up!” I yelled. One of the men grabbed my arm.

  “Look this way,” he said.

  “Let go!” The fear, anger, and frustration overwhelmed me.

  Coming here was a mistake. A big one. I whirled around and ran straight into the security guard who’d taken my pass. I stumbled back, trying to keep my balance, but my purse slid off my arm, its contents spilled onto the floor. The security guard gripped my biceps to steady me. More flashes. More intrusive pictures. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what the papers would print this time.

  “Don’t touch me,” I said, close to hysteria. “This is your fault.”

  “Look, lady, you need to calm down.”

  “Don’t tell me to calm down.” My hand dashed at the tear sliding from my eye. “I just traveled five thousand miles to see my boyfriend and you took away my pass.”

  “What are you talking about?” He sounded shocked.

  “You took away Briar’s pass?”

  “Did Hayden tell you to do that?”

  “When did you break up with Hayden, Briar?”

  I dropped to the ground and picked up my purse, shoving back in my phone, my passport, lip gloss, and my hotel key card.

  Ben snatched the card from me, turning it over. “Only the band’s staying at this hotel,” he said, eyes fixated on the card.

  “I know that.” I snatched the key card from his hand and managed to duck out from under the crowd hemming me in.

  “When did you check in to the hotel?” a reporter next to me asked.

  “How long are you staying with Hayden on tour?”

  I couldn’t breathe. Flash. Flash. This was worse than anything I’d dealt with before. Flash. I bolted toward the exit.

  “Hey! You can’t leave now.”

  Oh, yes, I could, and I was. Albeit slowly. The crowd was larger, maybe triple the size of when I’d arrived. Moving back through the melee was nearly impossible. I couldn’t even begin to imagine the headlines for tomorrow’s papers, but with the crowd of reporters here, I knew I’d be humiliated. Again. Especially now that Hayden hadn’t answered my text.

  He’d made his point.

  I’d misunderstood. Somehow, I’d gotten our relationship wrong. Sandwiched between two groupies.

  An image I’d never, ever get out of my head. I swiped at another tear. So much for my grand gesture.

  Finally, I could see the exit. I sucked in another breath. My credit cards and passport were tucked into my purse. I’d go home, crawl into bed with Princess, and never get out again.

  Chapter 39

  Hayden

  “Maybe he’s being told off about all the passes he’s handed out,” Flip said, raising his chin to indicate Ben and Ets, who were in the hall backstage. I saw Ets take a pass from Ben before he glanced in at us then walked down the hall toward the side entrance of the venue.

  “Picking up another woman, more like,” Jake said, his voice laced with disgust. “Mila leaving like that hurt him, sure, but he’s become a complete man-whore.”

  I shrugged. “Keeps him from bothering me. You haven’t seen my phone, right?”

  “You already asked. No,” Flip answered.

  I sighed, running my fingers through my hair. I’d never gone this long without checking my messages, the sites.

  I grabbed a bottle of water from the table. We’d be on in about fifteen minutes. Once I got back to the hotel, I’d call Briar again. I needed to hear her voice, for her to give me a reason to continue to fight for us.

  The local band opening for us, an indie group called Berg, filed into the room. “People listened to us,” Jonah, the lead singer, said.

  “Well, that’s kind of the point.” Flip chuckled.

  “We’ve been to plenty of gigs where the audience didn’t even show until the main act went on. This was better.”

  “Until that girl started screaming,” Topi said. He shook his head. “I don’t like the idea of a woman being molested. The crowd really hemmed her in.”

  “Here?” I asked, throwing my empty bottle into the trash. “Did security get involved?”

  “One of your security guards was talking to her, but she was upset. Cameras were all over her. Pretty thing.”

  “Tall,” Jonah said. “Her dark hair was nice in those big curls. Looked a bit like your girl from the papers.” Jonah raised his chin toward me.

  “Couldn’t have been. She’s in Seattle,” I sa
id.

  “Glad the show went well for you guys,” Jake said.

  I stretched, searching the room once again for my phone. Suspicion nagged me. I glanced back toward the door. “Where’s Ets’s bag?” I asked.

  Jake pointed. I went over and opened it. Sure enough, my phone was there, buried under his picks, a T-shirt, and a box of condoms.

  “Your brother is a complete wanker,” I said, rising. I turned on my phone and walked toward the door. “He and I are having words.”

  “He took your phone?” Jake asked. “Shit. I’m coming with.”

  “Hayden, don’t do anything stupid, mate. The press is out there,” Flip said.

  I glanced down, a thrill running through me when Briar’s name popped up. I read the message as I walked.

  “Bloody hell,” I yelled, and started running.

  “What now?” Jake asked.

  “Briar’s here. Ets wouldn’t let her backstage.” Jonah had said the screaming girl looked like Briar. Crikey. “If she’s hurt . . . ”

  Rounding the corner, I nearly plowed into Ben.

  “I didn’t recognize her,” he panted.

  “You met Briar out there?”

  He nodded. I sidestepped around him and started running.

  “She’s crying. I couldn’t get her to come back. She headed toward the front exit.”

  “Bloody hell,” Flip shouted.

  Exactly. I burst through the doors, Flip following close behind, out into the venue, and immediately saw the group of reporters near the groupie door. Aw, hell. They’d mobbed her. The crowd turned as one to stare at us. Girls started screaming and bodies pressed forward, touching. I craned my neck.

  “Briar!” I bellowed. My voice was drowned out by the screaming.

  Flip grunted, cursing. “I’m going to the stage.”

  I nodded once, pushing my way through the grasping hands, panic pressing hard against my chest. “Briar!”

  My shirt ripped at the shoulder, fingernails scored my arm. I kept pushing forward. My eyes scanned the crowd, and I kept yelling for her. This, even for Ets, was too far. She’d been crying. Fear built in my chest, pushing out.

  “Briar Moore, if you’re still here, Hayden is trying to find you.”