Chasing the Music: For the Love of Music Book 0.5

by Josephs, Mia

  Ryker slapped the back of his head.

  “Fucker,” Griffin muttered.

  “Aren’t you blooming roses tonight.” Ryker snorted. “Stop thinking so damn much, and come out with us.”

  Griffin traded his t-shirt out for a different one and followed his brother out the door. Atlanta was waiting, and maybe it was time he let go and allowed himself some fun.

  “Where are you going again?” Lita asked.

  Bridget smoothed her lips over with another shade of red. “The crew is taking Griffin out for his twenty-first birthday.”

  “So that’s why Stacy came?” Lita asked, nearly choking on Stacy’s name. She’d been so so so stupid.

  “Beats me. I think she went home, though. Ryker said something about paying for an escort for his little brother’s birthday.”

  Lita sat up. “But Griffin’s not into that.”

  Bridget scoffed. “I’m sure they didn’t grab some girl off the street, Lita. They’re already out partying together.”

  None of this fit with the Griffin she knew. He was so loyal to Stacy that he hadn’t wanted… Oh. Her. Maybe it was his nice way of letting her down instead of telling her he wasn’t interested.

  Misery weakened her and she sat back in bed. For a second she contemplated joining the group, but… But she was supposed to be taking care of her voice. And did she even want to put herself in a position to be turned down in yet another way?

  Nope.

  “Can I borrow that black shirt of yours?” Bridget asked.

  Lita waved dismissively. “Yeah. Whatever. Take what you want.”

  “Love ya.” Bridget flipped open another suitcase. “All the usuals are in your living room.”

  Maybe Dave. Apelu. And… who even knew. Who cared. She was in her room with the door closed, and that’s where she planned to stay.

  “I’ve ordered dinner for you,” Bridget said as she slipped Lita’s leather coat over her shoulders.

  It pulled on Bridget’s shoulders, whose body was healthier than Lita’s but whatever. She was beyond caring.

  “Have fun,” Lita said quietly.

  “You try not to talk.” Bridget blew Lita a kiss and disappeared out the door.

  Even a year ago Bridget would have never left her alone. Ever. What had changed? Was Bridget was just getting sick of her?

  Lita flicked on the TV and was met with her mother’s face.

  Her chest caved.

  She was already miserable, might as well wallow.

  Dinner arrived a half hour later, but all she could bring herself to do was nibble. Why on earth had Bridget gotten her steak and mashed potatoes? So heavy.

  Everything was heavy, really.

  Lita slid lower in bed, picking small pinches off the dinner roll wishing she could not think about her mom’s death, her dad’s distance, or Griffin out partying it up with his brother and some…prostitute? She could not wrap her head around the idea that Griffin would be into that, but maybe she didn’t know him the way she thought she did.

  When her phone beeped in a text, she snatched it up. Pictures. From Bridget.

  The guys at the bar tossing back shots. Another picture of her band waving over shot glasses. Griffin plastered against some redhead on the dance floor.

  Her stomach flopped over and she dropped her roll.

  Whatever.

  She didn’t need them.

  Any of them.

  The music blurred Griffin’s thoughts as he tipped his head back and let another shot slide down his throat. This had been a fantastic idea.

  Lita’s anger was gone in a haze of whiskey. So was Stacy’s sad, disappointed face.

  “So, you’re having fun?” the woman asked.

  Griffin shifted away from her. She’d been sidling into him all night, and he didn’t get it. Instead of answering he turned to face Ryker, but the room slipped on its side, and he grasped the bar to keep it upright.

  “You must be having fun!” Ryker yelled over the music. “Why don’t you and hottie over there take off? I won’t be back to the room for a while.” He waggled his brows.

  Griffin cringed at the thought of taking this woman back to his hotel room. He didn’t know her. Ryker had to know that wasn’t his style.

  Bridget stepped past Griffin again without even glancing his way. One of the guys from the band led her to the sprawling dance floor.

  Griffin’s stomach began tumbling like it did when he thought Whiskey was a good idea.

  “Hey!” Ryker leaned around Griffin to tap the redhead on the shoulder. “Can you get him back?”

  “Sure.” She slipped her hand through Griffin’s arm.

  No. NO. This was not what he wanted.

  Griffin pushed away from the bar knowing he was going to spend his second day of being twenty-one hung over.

  This was shit. Everything was shit. If Lita got his note, why hadn’t she called him?

  He pushed around the girl and Ryker and stumbled toward Bridget but the room shifted again, and he pushed his arms out to catch himself before he went over.

  “What the hell, Griffin?” Bridget shoved him back.

  “Sorry…” He blinked trying to make Bridget one person instead of three. “The note. The letter. Did you pass on the letter?”

  “Of course I did you ass, even though I shouldn’t have.” Bridget pushed around Griffin slamming her shoulder into his as she went.

  What the hell?

  “What have I done to you?” he yelled but she didn’t slow. “Seriously! Bridget! What have I done to you?”

  Bridget spun around and stepped so close to Griffin that her mouth was next to his ear. “You’re not good enough for her, and at the same time you’re way too good for her. Do you know what it’s like working next to someone who gets everything they want? All the time? If you think the worse she’ll ever do to you is butcher your song, you’re so very wrong.”

  She pushed Griffin away from her, spun, and moved for the bar.

  The redheaded woman slipped her arm through Griffin’s and he started for the door, wishing she would go away. He turned back to the bar just in time to see Bridget aim her phone at him and the woman whose head rested on his shoulder.

  Damn it. What the hell was her problem?

  Griffin shrugged her away. “Seriously. I’m going home.”

  “Your brother paid for anything. All night,” the woman said in his ear.

  Griffin frowned, and instead of being angry at Ryker, he just felt shitty and sad.

  “Good. Go home. Have a girl movie marathon. Do something for yourself, okay?” he slurred. “And enjoy the money he so stupidly put in your pocket.”

  Her brows twitched. “The least I can do is help you into a cab.”

  Griffin stumbled toward the door. He was a shitty, shitty, drunk. He was much better at the beer buzz.

  As promised, she got him a cab, and he pressed his face against the glass, just wanting back to his hotel. The night hadn’t made him feel better. He felt lower than he ever remembered being.

  Now he had to find a way to get Lita to read the letter he sent.

  She had to know he and Stacy had split. Had to know he wanted whatever she was willing to give.

  Dammit.

  Twenty-five

  Lita couldn’t stop thinking about the pictures Bridget had sent her half the night. What even was the purpose?

  Show Lita what she wasn’t a part of? Show off what people were doing? And why so many of Griffin? It didn’t make any sense.

  “Hold still,” her stylist said, and Lita let out a breath as her hair was jerked upwards again.

  All day she’d kept to herself, not knowing what to think about anything aside from being angry with herself for being so taken in by someone she should have kept her distance from.

  Everything sucked. It just did. Two more weeks and the US tour would be over. And then what? Get ready for a Europe tour? Suck up to Christian Meyer?

  Head them off. Griffin said. You have po
wer.

  That was total BS. She didn’t even have the power to keep friends.

  “Meet and greet.” Dave grinned as he stepped into her dressing room.

  “Where’s Bridget?” Lita asked.

  Dave glanced around the small room. “She isn’t here?”

  “Do you see her here?” Lita snapped.

  “I meant more, is she in the area. When did you see her last?”

  “She brought me hot tea earlier, or opened the door to my room for hot tea.” Lita blinked, her eyes feeling heavy from the layers of makeup.

  Dave’s brows rose slowly. “I’ll find her.”

  Lita’s stomach grumbled, and she knew her forced snacks weren’t enough. This was stupid. Dumping this horrid uneasiness over everyone and everything, and the ability to eat, should have been two things firmly in her control, and they weren’t.

  “Let’s get this over with.” She stood.

  Her stylist flinched away. “I might need—”

  “My hair feels like a helmet. I’m sure we’re fine.” Lita pushed out the door and then stopped still when she realized the longer she wandered backstage, the more likely she was to run into Griffin, and she wasn’t sure if she could take it. How had everything gotten so messed up? This was a tour like all the other tours, and he was just a guy, like a lot of other guys. And her stress was shared by so many people in similar positions. She was not a wimp.

  Her legs shook and she stepped back into her dressing room, pausing near the tray of fruit and slipping a few slices of pineapple into her mouth. The tangy flavor helped keep her stomach from clenching up.

  The door pushed open again and Bridget stepped through with her iPad and an iced coffee.

  “Where have you been?” Lita asked.

  “Geez.” Bridget flopped into a chair. “Chill.”

  Lita stared at Bridget for a few more minutes and pushed out the door. Possibility of running into Griffin or not, she wasn’t going to fight with her friend in the final minutes before meeting people who had paid to meet her.

  Bridget leaned against the hallway backstage typing into her phone.

  “How…” Griffin swallowed as he stopped next to her; his head was inconsolable after the previous night. “How is she?”

  “Oh. You mean you think you somehow hurt her or ruined her because you’re so amazing?” Bridget glared over her phone.

  Griffin took a step back.

  “It’s not like a big secret that you two hit it off.” Bridget folded her arms, phone forgotten.

  “That’s not what I meant. I meant…” He stepped closer. “I meant her health. Food. Stress.”

  Bridget shook her head slightly. “What’s it to you?”

  “How is it not a big deal to you?” he asked. “She nearly passed out the one night. She’s overstressed. This is a big deal.”

  “Well.” Bridget cocked a brow. “You’re not her keeper.”

  He threw his hands in the air. “I’m well aware, and I wanted to give her space, so I’m asking you.”

  “She’s a grownup, Griffin.”

  “Yes.” He leaned in. “She’s a grownup in need of some help, or some support from the people closest to her. I’m not one of those people.” The reality of that ran cold through him and he took another step back. “Just think about why you’re here if this isn’t a big deal.”

  “Tell your girlfriend hello when you talk,” Bridget said as he walked away.

  Griffin turned to face her. “We split. The day she came.”

  Bridget gave Griffin a disinterested frown. “Whatever.”

  He clenched his fists in frustration. If Lita ended up in the hospital because Bridget was allowing her to live on coffee…

  “You had quite a night last night,” Bridget added.

  He ground his teeth wondering how hard he should defend himself, but he suspected that it didn’t matter much what he said to Bridget.

  Griffin headed to the stage to help finalize setup. At least he’d be busy.

  Twenty-six

  For nearly a week Lita had managed to mostly avoid Griffin. More than. Her dad was coming to the show, and her nerves ached in anticipation of seeing him. Of him seeing her. Watching her. Maybe this hadn’t been the best idea. At least they were in New York, one of her very favorite places.

  Rumor was that Griffin and Stacy had split the night Lita butchered his song. He hadn’t told her. And Bridget shrugged when Lita asked, saying she wasn’t sure what Griffin’s status was. Lita could read very clearly between Bridget’s lines—who the hell cares what Griffin is up to?

  She took another long sip of her coffee, letting the caffeine course through her and help her to her feet.

  “We’re going to need to do something about those pants soon,” Bridget commented as Lita crossed the room.

  She slid her hand in the waist and balled up a fist. Her eyes fell closed. She knew this wasn’t good. But it’s not like she’d be able to eat on the night her father came. How long had it been since she’d seen him? A year? Maybe a little more? That wasn’t normal for people her age—she didn’t think.

  Her fingers ran over the back pocket where Griffin’s letter sat. It was the exact kind of sappy thing she always swore she wouldn’t do. She hadn’t read it. She wasn’t done being angry. She was really worried that with his way with words, he’d diffuse her anger. Either that, or he’d be so furious about the song it would destroy her.

  Lita pushed out the dressing room door, following Apelu.

  “Is Dad here?” she asked Bridget as she made her way through the dark toward the stage.

  “Not yet,” Bridget answered. “Sorry.”

  Lita waved her away and a rush spun through her head, leaving her weak against the wall.

  Bridget’s hand rested on her shoulder but Lita shoved it away. “I’m fine.”

  The stadium had gone quiet after the first band, which meant Lita was almost on. Almost.

  “Angel,” a voice called from behind her and Lita spun to come face to face with her dad.

  He was exactly as she remembered. Crisp shirt. Soft smile. Dark and deep eyes. Relief pulsed through her body followed by a rush of energy and excitement that he’d made it.

  “Dad.”

  His smile was part sad as it almost always was. “Made it.”

  “I’ve got to…” She pointed toward the stage. “It’s time now.”

  “Then you should.”

  Her heart hammered and her thoughts tangled around all the things she wanted to ask him. If he thought about her. If there would be a time when he wouldn’t just see his wife when he looked at her.

  He squeezed her arm gently—probably as much affection as she’d get, but she’d take it.

  “Yeah…” She walked backwards a few steps and turned to run into something warm and soft.

  She paused, breathing in the familiar smell, her shoulders relaxing until she realized she should not be enjoying breathing in that smell.

  Lita’s eyes flashed to his, and Griffin’s gaze was filled with sadness. Suddenly the note in her pocket itched to be read.

  “How are you?” he asked as they stood two steps from being visible onstage. “Did you read the…the letter?” His face was completely flat. Unreadable. Was he pissed? Worried? Both?

  She just stood and stared, her jaw tightening, her emotions swelling her throat and then she blinked knowing she had to shut down. Block him. She had a show.

  Lita pushed around him. It was maybe the worst thing she could have done, but how did she deal? His words, like rocks dropped into an empty bucket, pinged in her brain.

  She shoved the black curtains back without looking back and grabbed the mic for her first song. It was all automatic now. Every song. Every breath. Every stomp of her foot just seemed to happen in the same space. The men in her life were giving her fits, and Bridget was weirder than ever. It didn’t matter. The first song finished to roars of clapping, whistling, shouts and applause. People were so easy to fool. Follow the form
ula. Win their hearts.

  Lita closed her eyes under the stage lights and tilted her face up. This had been her dream from the beginning, and she was there. She had to hold on to that.

  Well, that was it. Over before it began like Griffin had told Ryker. At least he’d felt something huge. Been a part of something big. Lita’s blank stare gave him zero answers and he couldn’t afford to let himself find more questions; he’d go crazy.

  He’d let Stacy go. He’d have to let Lita go, too.

  “You on the tour?” A man asked.

  Griffin nodded. “Yeah. Since California.”

  “I’m her father, William. How is she?” he asked as he watched her onstage. Moving brilliantly. Singing effortlessly.

  “What she’d want you to hear, or the real answer?” Griffin asked.

  “The real answer.”

  “Not good,” he said. “She’s already pissed at me, so it doesn’t much matter what she thinks at this point.”

  The glanced at the floor. “So much like her mother. It’s haunting.”

  “She knows.”

  The man’s head snapped up. “What do you mean?”

  “She knows you see her mom when you look at her. I think she wonders if that’ll ever change.” Griffin was sure Lita would be pissed when she knew he’d talked openly to her father, but if she wasn’t going to let Griffin watch over her, he had to make sure someone else was.

  “She shouldn’t want it to.” He folded his arms, but it was a relaxed gesture and not one of challenge. “Her mother was incredible. Every year we had together I kept waiting for her to tell me it was all a joke. I’m a regular guy and she was anything but.”

  “I’ve heard her music,” Griffin said.

  He smiled. “I like to hear that.”

  “So!” Lita said into her mic. “A friend wrote this amazing song that I performed about a week ago.”

  The crowd went insane.

  “I heard it went viral on YouTube, which I find strange since you’re not allowed to record.” Her voice lowered at the end and chuckles spread over the audience. “I wondered if you’d like to hear the real version because it’s beautiful.”