by Kim Loraine
He nodded and Parker made room on the stairs as she grabbed her backpack and raced up to the main floor of Garrett’s house. What if her dad had had a heart attack? Her mom might’ve fallen down the stairs.
For a fleeting moment, she worried about how she’d treated Garrett after they’d started down such an intimate path, but as she turned the key in her ignition and pulled her phone out of the pocket of her jacket all other concerns vanished. She saw missed calls, voicemails, and a text message from her sister.
Simon. Accident. Come home.
Chapter 9
Angela swiped at the tears before she approached the town car and her waiting date. Aiden grinned from his seat, and his eyes roamed appreciatively over her body. “You look good.”
She rolled her eyes. “So I’ve heard.”
His eyebrows rose in question, but she waved him away. She needed to get her mind off what had happened with Garrett in the elevator. This relationship needed to be believable, and she wasn’t a good enough actress to completely pretend.
“So, where are we going?” she asked, plastering a bright smile on her face.
“You like sushi?”
She bit back a grimace and smiled again. “Sure.”
He laughed, his eyes glittering where the light caught them. “I’ll take that as a no.” He leaned up and muttered something to the driver and they made a quick U-turn. “Steak?”
“Yeah, steak—as in, cooked food. I like cooked food.” She wasn’t much of an exotic eater and certainly nothing left her plate that wasn’t cooked.
The restaurant was a high-end steak house complete with a maître d’ in a full tux and white gloves. She felt awkward and out of place but Aiden’s steady hand on the small of her back calmed her. Bit-by-bit he helped her feel like she belonged as they walked through the crowded dining room to a secluded back booth. People gasped and stared, murmurs of Aiden’s name filled the restaurant when they recognized him. A low hum of excited chatter spread through the room.
“I think you’ve been spotted,” she whispered over the wine list.
Aiden shrugged and shot her that irresistible grin again. “I wouldn’t be where I am without them. Don’t forget who makes and breaks us. If people suddenly stopped caring about me, my music, my personal life, I’d be obsolete. I’d go back to working at my dad’s sports store and fade into normalcy.”
He was so insightful. She sat back in the booth, the cool leather pressing against the exposed skin of her back and sending a chill up her spine.
“What?” he asked. He’d grabbed his cloth napkin and started folding it absently.
“You’re surprising.”
“Surprising how?”
“I just . . . I pictured you completely differently.”
He pushed the napkin toward her, now folded into the shape of a swan and chuckled. “Not living up to your expectations?”
“No.”
He lowered his gaze to the table, a wounded look on his face and her stomach dropped.
“No . . . not like that,” she hastened to clarify. “You’re so much more than I thought you’d be. I never thought I’d actually like you. That I could be friends with you.”
The grin was back, making her heart warm. “I’m not some rocker super villain. I’m not even the man-whore they make me out to be. It’s all just for show. I had one serious girlfriend a few years ago. She broke me and I haven’t really moved on from her.”
This was a surprise. She’d read all about his exploits on the Internet. Models, actresses, sometimes both at the same time. He was every father’s nightmare according to the press.
“Why the show?”
“Label shit. They know what sells albums. Broken hearts write the songs, but sex and confidence sell the record.”
His fingers brushed hers across the table and a sad smile sent a wave of pity through her. She laced her fingers with his and squeezed gently.
The waiter arrived, sharing the specials and taking their wine orders. They spent the rest of dinner chatting, touching, and smiling under the watchful eyes of the American public via the poorly hidden camera lenses of people’s cell phones. As they got up to leave, Aiden took her in his arms and nuzzled her neck.
“Time to give them a show, baby doll,” he murmured against her skin.
His lips pressed against hers, light at first but with fire behind them. She heard the distinct sound of sighs in the dining room and the click of camera shutters as Aiden tangled his fingers in her hair and kissed her as though his life depended on it. When he pulled away, she was a little breathless and lightheaded. She’d just kissed Aiden Boyd in the middle of a restaurant. It was amazing—as every straight woman in the world hoped it would be—but the spark wasn’t there. It didn’t hold one tenth of the passion her kiss with Garrett had.
“Ready?” His voice was hoarse and the heat in his eyes was unmistakable.
She cleared her throat and nestled into his side as his arm went around her. “Yep.”
As they left the restaurant he brought his lips to her ear and whispered, “Maybe not pretend?”
Her stomach clenched with indecision as his fingers stroked her arm. “Maybe.”
She couldn’t come up with anything else to say. Maybe. That was all she had to hold on to right now. Her hard won independence was being rapidly pulled out from under her and she was losing her grip. But who was going to catch her?
The fucking Internet hated him. Garrett slammed his laptop shut. He couldn’t escape her, Angela and Aiden were everywhere. On social media, on news sites, on TV. She was the new love interest, the woman who was touted to be Aiden Boyd’s savior. Parker thought it was awesome, he kept going on and on about how if they got married he’d be Aiden’s quasi brother-in-law. It made Garrett sick, literally sick to his stomach.
He’d been on this tour a little over a week now and his whole world was crashing down. What he’d felt in the elevator—that kiss they’d shared—had not been one-sided. She was as involved as he was.
“Dude! I can usually handle your drumming on everything, but I am so fucking hung over right now.” Parker was wedged between the big pillows on the couch at the back of the bus. His face a light shade of green.
“Tied one on last night at the after party?”
“You might say that.”
“You’re such a lightweight.”
“Not true. I do just fine, I just haven’t gotten the hang of drinking on an empty stomach.”
“I believe once you get the hang of it you’re an alcoholic.” Garrett chuckled before he threw a bottle of water at Parker’s head.
“Thanks.”
“Sound check in a few hours. I’m gonna go check out the arena. Want to join me?”
Parker grimaced. “Nope. I’m gonna sit here and try not to puke.”
“Pull it together before the show, man.”
“I will.”
An empty arena was a magical thing. It was filled with the promise of possibility. Garrett stood on the stage, staring out at the rows of seats that would all be filled with people ready to listen. He reminded himself that they were really only willing to listen to Panic Station because it meant that Violet Hour was about to come on. A mixture of bitter resentment and thankfulness coursed through him, adding to the swirling frustration at the forefront of his mind.
He had plenty to be grateful for. The album was rising on the charts. According to Marcus, they were trending on social media because of their single, the tour, and Angie’s budding romance. Still, unease clutched at his chest. All of this could be because of Violet Hour. What would happen when Aiden Boyd moved on?
“Hey, you.” Angela’s voice was startlingly close, he could feel her breath on his neck.
He braced himself as he turned toward her. The
soft features of her beautiful face made his chest tighten uncomfortably.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“It’s quiet. I can play and really hear myself.”
She sat at the grand piano at the corner of the stage and started playing Chopin’s Nocturne in B-flat minor. Her favorite. Her fingers flew over the keys and she was right, he could really hear her. The melancholy was infectious, filling him with a sweet sadness. He had to sit down on the stage and close his eyes as the music covered him.
As she finished the last few bars he opened his eyes to look at her. Her brow was furrowed in concentration. She poured all of herself into a performance for no one but the two of them, and he felt like he was witnessing something rare and special in that moment. It was a slice of perfection they’d never share with anyone else.
“Hmm, that piece always leaves me feeling bittersweet.” Her head was lowered, watching the keys as her fingers stroked gently over them.
“Me, too. Only when you play it, though.” He grabbed a guitar off a stand and started strumming a familiar song they’d written in their early years. He wasn’t a great guitarist, but he could usually keep up.
“Oh, God. That song?” Her laughter was infectious and had him grinning.
“Come on, you remember it.”
She started playing the piano part and they sang together. It was just a silly song they’d written as teenagers but it felt so good to laugh together.
Applause rang out from behind them, and he looked out into the empty arena to find the smiling face of Aiden.
“That was great. I’ve never seen you guys have that much fun.”
She hopped down from the stage and ran to put her arms around Aiden. A curious pain set up residence in his heart. He set his jaw and took a steadying breath as he walked down the steps to join them.
“Aiden.”
“Garrett.” Aiden nodded at him.
“What’s the plan for tonight?” Angela asked, eyes on Aiden.
“We’ll do it at the end of the show. You’ll need to change wardrobe and come out with your guitar. It’s just you and me. We can sound check it first today though.”
Garrett crossed his arms over his chest and fought the frown that threatened to share his confusing emotions with the room. “What about recording? Who’s going to be on that? Violet Hour and Panic Station or Aiden Boyd and Angela Peters?”
Aiden cocked one eyebrow. “I suppose that’s up to Backbeat. It depends on what will be the most draw.”
“Do you always do what the label tells you?”
“How do you think we got here? Look, after this tour I’ll be able to do pretty much whatever I want. Shows and merchandise are selling out, our album is number one, and we’ve had five of the singles go platinum off this record alone. You are not in a position to argue with Backbeat. One day you might be.”
Anger flooded his veins as Angela stayed silent, nodding her head and watching Aiden. This was not who Panic Station was. They’d always said they wouldn’t become record label puppets.
“We need to rehearse and then you can show me what you’re thinking of wearing tonight, baby doll.” Aiden pulled Angela into his side.
Baby doll? Baby-fucking-doll? What the hell was happening here? There was absolutely no way Angela would have let anyone get away with calling her something as demeaning as that. His hands tightened into fists as he watched them walk away. Sitting at the drum set, he let it rip, hammering on the kit until his arms were shaking.
After leaving all of his emotions on the empty stage, he sat back, breathing heavy. Angela had to know what she was doing. Was this what their big break was going to do to them? Tear them apart?
Chapter 10
The arena hummed with energy as the crowd prepared for the final song of the night. Angela stood in the wings, waiting. Her heart pounded in her ears and her knees shook. She hadn’t been this nervous about anything before. Aiden was flirting with the audience, getting them riled up by talking about his love life. Then he motioned for her to come out. As she strode across the stage, guitar in hand, her nerves dissolved. She found that familiar calm inside herself and focused on him. She looked into his blue-green eyes and nowhere else.
He took her guitar and handed it to a tech, confusing and exciting her at the same time. Without warning, he pulled her to him, planting a sweet kiss on her lips.
“I don’t know if you all know this,” he said into the microphone, “but this beautiful woman here has stolen my heart.”
A chorus of cheers with a few boos thrown in made her laugh. This was awkward and very public.
“We’ve been working on a little something for you guys. Would you like to hear it?” He paused as the crowd let out a deafening yell. “Get out your phones and feel free to video. Let’s see if we can break the Internet, huh? This song is called Give Me You.”
The arena filled with ecstatic cheers and immediately cell phones popped up over the heads of the audience. The tech handed her back her guitar and Aiden grabbed his own. They started playing and the audience fell silent.
As the song finished the crowd burst into applause.
“Did you like it?” he asked.
The answering roar had them both smiling, and he kissed her fiercely then, right in front of God and everyone, as her mother would say.
“Good job, baby doll,” he murmured against her mouth.
Her breaths came in harsh gasps. Confusion swirling and pulling her in every direction. Was this real? Was it for show? What was she doing?
They bowed together and walked hand-in-hand off the stage. Euphoria crashed over her as she handed her guitar back to the tech and turned to face Aiden. “That was amazing!”
He grinned from ear to ear and wrapped her in his arms. “You’re amazing.” The cheering of the crowd got louder, and he turned to look back at the stage. “I’ve gotta go on for the encore. I’ll see you at the after party?”
She nodded, watching him run back out to his adoring fans. He moved with such grace and ease. Like it was second nature to him. Like these people were all his friends.
“Nice show. You were great.” Garrett’s voice rumbled in her ear, and she felt the brush of fabric on the back of her arm.
She turned to face him, ready to share her joy. “It was awesome. I can’t believe how great that felt, Gare.”
“Looked that way. You two are certainly moving fast.”
She didn’t answer him. Honestly, she had no idea what was actually happening. Either Aiden was a world-class actor or he wanted more.
Violet Hour started their encore set with one of the biggest hits of their early career and she watched Aiden strut across the stage, owning the audience with his sexy confidence. Garrett pulled her attention away by grasping her elbow and pulling her toward him.
“We need to talk. We need to fix this.”
“Fix what?” She feigned ignorance, not wanting to deal with the elephant in the room.
“You know what.”
He wasn’t backing down. His jaw was set and his eyes held determination and heat.
“Fine. But not here.”
“Come with me.” He pulled her away from the noise and distraction of Violet Hour in all their glory.
“Where are we going?”
“Bus.”
She followed him, her skin tingling where he held her. She couldn’t hide the spark between them. Like an arc of electricity.
The bus was quiet, empty as everyone else was either watching, performing, or heading off to the location of the after party. Garrett came in behind her and locked the door.
“I’m only going to do this once more. I can’t take it, watching you with him.”
“What . . .?” She was silenced by his mouth on her, his hands in her
hair. Yes, this is right. This is what I need, her heart practically screamed. But her head was too caught up in the feel and taste of him to take notice. She’d been kissed more in the last week than ever in her whole life.
Garrett cupped her face in his hands and stared into her eyes, his forehead to hers. “You’ve always said no relationships. Why him? Why now? I can’t breathe when I see you with him. He’s not the man for you. I am. It should have been you and me together from the beginning.”
The hurt on his face cut her deeply, just as it had every time he’d seen her with Aiden. She couldn’t continue lying. Not to him.
She pulled away, breathing hard and trying to gather her thoughts. Surprisingly, he let her. As she sat down, thinking through the ramifications of his confession, her own feelings rushed over the carefully constructed walls around her heart. At her core she’d always known there was something between them. But to act on it as they had on New Year’s threw everything off balance. Aiden only added to the struggle.
Taking a deep breath, she trained her gaze on his lips, knowing if she looked in those eyes of his she’d lose her nerve. “I’m going to tell you something and I need you to listen and not repeat a word. Do you understand?”
Shifting “Yes.”
“It’s not real.”
He pursed his lips and frowned. “Yes, it fucking is. Don’t tell me how I feel.”
“No, Gare, this thing with Aiden. It’s not real. It’s for show. Backbeat likes us together and thinks it’ll push record sales and help get Panic Station to the top sooner rather than later.”
“What?”
“After the tour is over we’ll break up, and I’ll be the sympathetic one while he’ll regain his bad-boy rep.”