Resonance (A Golden Beach Novel)

by Kim Loraine

  An uncomfortable ache took hold in her stomach at the wrongness of his statement.

  Not his girl.

  Garrett watched, he couldn’t keep himself from the TV. Angela and Aiden, sitting nestled together, gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes. If he didn’t know otherwise, he’d say they were in love. It would have made him angry, if it hadn’t been for the text she’d sent moments before they appeared on screen.

  I’m thinking of you when I look at him. Always you.

  Now he grinned as he watched her. This was all for him.

  The anchor on The Today Show was a pretty woman, mid-forties, and clearly crushing on Aiden. She practically licked her lips when he came in and sat down.

  “So, Aiden, Angela. Big song, tour, engagement, what’s next?”

  Aiden grinned and turned on his charm as he placed a hand on Angie’s bare knee.

  “I guess we’ve got to shoot a music video. I’ve been approached by a few film producers about working on original soundtracks. Other than that, I’m not really allowed to talk about anything else in the pipeline.”

  The anchor arched an eyebrow. “No date for the wedding, Angela?”

  He had to fight back a laugh as he watched her squirm under the scrutiny.

  “Um, we’ve not really gotten that far in the planning. Touring takes up so much of our time.”

  Nodding, the anchor threw a sidelong glance at Aiden.

  “Sounds like there’s some hesitation over here, Aiden. You having trouble getting her to settle down? There’s been talk about a certain drummer shaped wedge between you two. Angela, you and Garrett have a long and colorful history.”

  A photo of the two of them embracing during the Rocky Horror Picture Show performance they’d played less than a year ago flashed on the screen. The heated look between them was undeniable, but how could he have not had lust in his eyes? She had looked hotter than hell in her fishnets and hot pants. He balled his hands into fists. Rocky Horror had always been special to them. Every damn year since they were teenagers, they spent the night of Halloween at The Roxy singing along.

  Garrett watched, heart in his throat, as Angela’s face paled and Aiden dropped his gaze.

  “Yes, that . . . that’s something we’ve had to work through.”

  Wide eyes from both women locked on Aiden. “Really?”

  Aiden’s face was a mask of hurt. “I think, it’s just really hard to let go of things that are bad for you. Angie and I have been working hard to move beyond her past with Garrett.”

  Garrett’s blood boiled.

  Aiden continued on screen, making Garrett clench his fists so tightly his knuckles were white. “She’s understandably close with the guys in her band. It’s a natural progression to fall for someone you’ve worked closely with for years. But it’s been over for a long time. She just doesn’t know how to make Garrett see that.”

  The anchor shifted in her seat. “So, are things strained between you and Garrett, Angela?”

  He watched her look from the pretty woman to Aiden—a deer in the headlights.

  Aiden wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close, dropping a kiss on her head. “Can we change the subject, please? It’s upsetting enough to deal with on our own.”

  Garrett turned off the TV and slammed the remote down hard on the scratched coffee table.

  His phone rang and he jerked it out of his pocket, answering with a harsh bark, “What?”

  “Dude, calm down. Did Aiden just throw you to the wolves or what?” Parker’s voice was calm on the other end of the line, but there was a tinge of worry there.

  “Fucker. I knew he wasn’t the good guy he’d been playing.”

  “Angie looked like she was going to throw up.”

  He paced around the living room, his heart pounding with anger.

  “What the fuck should I do?”

  Parker sighed. “I have no clue.”

  Heading to the kitchen, he poured a shot of Jameson into a coffee cup and filled the rest with some fresh brew. Then he downed a second shot straight. The alcohol burned his throat and sent heat to land in his belly. He needed something to ease the cold knot in the pit of his stomach.

  “You need me to come over? Jason’s gone for the day. We could jam? Kill some zombies?”

  He shook his head and took a long pull of coffee. “Nah, I’m okay. I’m just worried about Angie.”

  It took him over an hour to calm down. Of course, everyone in the freaking town had been watching their local sweetheart on TV this morning. Call after call came in from close friends, family, even a few acquaintances. Lots of questions came through in voicemails, texts, and social media messages. Is everything okay between you two? I never knew you were together. Are you heartbroken? Is the band breaking up? It only made him angrier at Aiden.

  Almost immediately his stupid Twitter alerts started. His heart sank when he saw the messages. So many angry fans, wishing he’d leave the band, leave their favorite couple alone, some even called him a stalker. The Today Show chimed in, tagging him and Aiden both in a post.

  Are you #TeamAIDEN or #TeamGARRETT?

  Against his better judgment, he replied, #TeamANGELA forever.

  Chapter 24

  Nine years earlier

  Angela sat next to Garrett, her long hair flowing down her back. She’d added dark blue streaks to the blond over the weekend and he chuckled, thinking about what her mom probably had to say about that. He watched as she twirled a blue lock around her fingers. After two and a half years with the band they were finally rubbing off on her.

  “Psst,” he hissed as he elbowed her.

  She eyed him and shook her head. They were in the middle of a history exam and their teacher had already been throwing them suspicious glances.

  “Angie,” he persisted.

  “Stop it.”

  “Rocky Horror tonight at The Roxy. You in?”

  Forgetting herself, she blurted, “Rocky what?” at full volume, and he erupted into uncontrollable snickers.

  “Miss Peters, Mister Donalson. Is there a problem?” The teacher’s sharp voice broke through the quiet of the classroom like the cracking of a whip.

  “No. Sorry, Mrs. Cauter.” Angela’s cheeks turned a deep crimson causing a wave of guilt to hit him.

  When the bell rang and their tests were turned in, Garrett walked with Angela to the last class of the day. “Sorry about that.”

  She shrugged, blowing it off. He loved that about her. She let almost anything roll right off her back.

  “So, what’s Rocky Horror?”

  Excitement spread through him. “You’re a virgin?”

  He could see the mortification on her face at his words.

  “That’s not your business.”

  “No, sorry. I mean a Rocky virgin. You’ve never seen it?”

  She shook her head.

  “You’re in for it. You think your parents will let you out late tonight?”

  He hoped they would. The idea of watching her face as she took in the movie for the first time made his lips quirk in a smile.

  “How late?”

  “It doesn’t start until midnight.”

  Her frown made his gut tighten in disappointment.

  “That’s really late.”

  “You could say you’re staying over with a friend.”

  “Like who? You and Parker are my friends. Parker might be gay, but there’s no way my parents will let me stay the night at a boy’s house.”

  The bell rang and the stragglers in the hall scattered to their classes.

  “I’ll let you know,” she called before disappearing into her classroom.

  By the time school was over and he made it out to the buses, she was already heading
home. He hoped he could find a way to sneak her out if her parents wouldn’t agree. She needed to be part of this.

  Later that night he sat at the dinner table, compulsively checking his cell for word from Angela. After his mom shot him a look of disdain when she caught him breaking their no electronics at dinner rule, he silenced the phone and slipped it back into his pocket. Almost instantly, his phone buzzed against his leg, making him jump.

  Knowing his mom wouldn’t let him check the message, he wolfed the hot pizza down, barely pausing to taste it. His stomach hurt and he was pretty sure his mouth was burned, but his fingers itched to check that text. Excusing himself, he raced up the stairs, pulled his phone from his pocket, and checked the screen.

  Spending the night with Val and Lena. They’re coming, too. See you at midnight.

  He was sure the grin that spread across his face was idiotic, but he couldn’t contain his happiness. He didn’t even care that he’d have to deal with snotty Lena and Angie’s older sister.

  He sent a quick text to Parker to let him know the plan and pulled out his guitar to practice for a while. He’d started writing over the last year. His lyric notebook was full of songs that didn’t have melodies yet.

  “Is she coming?” His mom’s voice cut through his playing.

  “Yeah. She’s never seen it.”

  Surprise mixed with wariness colored her expression. “Does she know what she’s getting in to?”

  “She’ll like it, Mom. She’s cool.”

  “I hope so. You should think about warning her.”

  He shrugged and offered a noncommittal grunt as he continued to strum.

  “That’s a nice song, hon.”

  “Thanks. It’s just something I’ve been working on.”

  “You’re becoming quite the songwriter. It seems like you’ve got a muse.”

  She flipped through his lyric book and grinned.

  He shrugged. Not understanding her implication, and not really caring.

  Chapter 25

  Angela was fuming. She’d barely contained her anger during the car ride back to the hotel. Her lower lip quivered as the rage took hold of her entire body.

  “I need you to tell me what the hell that was.”

  Aiden shrugged. “Things have started cooling off. The press are getting bored with us. I was just stirring the pot a bit.”

  She stalked across the living room of the suite they were sharing, staring daggers at Aiden. How could he do something like this? And without warning her.

  “I felt like a fucking idiot. I had no idea you were going to do that.”

  “I’m sorry. I know. I needed a genuine reaction from you. You had to look guilty.”

  “I’m not guilty of anything, Aiden. We. Are. Not. Together.”

  A dark look passed over his face.

  “As far as the rest of the world is concerned, we are. We’re engaged. We still have to release the single, a music video, and finish the European leg of this tour.”

  She threw her hands in the air. “I’m aware. But now you’ve made me look like a cheating whore and Garrett a stalker.”

  “No, I planted a seed of doubt. I never said you cheated. I said you’ve got a past that we’re trying to get through.”

  “That is almost the same thing. They’ve already started taking sides. Have you seen Twitter? #TeamAiden and #TeamGarrett? It’s ridiculous.”

  He placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her body to face his.

  “Baby doll, this is the game. You’ve got to play to win.”

  “Both of us can’t win. There’s always a loser.”

  He grinned—carefree and happy. It infuriated her.

  “Trust me, do what you’re told and we’ll both win.”

  She couldn’t look at him anymore. All she could think about was escape. Grabbing her purse, she slipped her feet into a pair of Converse tennis shoes and darted for the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Out.”

  She slammed the door behind her and shoved a pair of sunglasses over her eyes. A walk. A walk and some time to herself was what she needed.

  She snuck out through the side exit marked Employees Only and managed to dodge the waiting paparazzi.

  The late-spring weather in New York was wonderful, a far cry from the muggy summers she’d heard so much about. The last time she’d been here her visit had been short and filled with publicity shoots, interviews, and, of course, Aiden. Now, the thought of him made her sick. Up until now, she’d never felt that way about him. The situation they were in, yes, but never about Aiden himself.

  Normally she’d have her earbuds in as soon as she stepped outside, but today she took in the sounds of the city. Manhattan. She wanted to be able to smile, to absorb it all. Instead, she fought to keep the frown off her face and the ache from her heart.

  Her phone buzzed in her back pocket and she knew with certainty who it would be.

  “I’m so sorry, Garrett.”

  “Are you all right?” A softness coated his words. No accusation, no anger.

  “I’m pissed.”

  “Yeah, I get that.”

  “I swear, I had no idea he was going to do that.”

  “I didn’t think you did, but he basically just set a target on our backs. We can’t do anything together, just the two of us, without being suspected of something.”

  She knew he was right and she hated it. She couldn’t come up with anything that seemed fitting and resorted to grunting a half-assed response.

  “It’s going to be fine.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Look, I’ve got to go. I miss you.”

  Her heart warmed at the words.

  “You, too. I’ll be back soon.”

  She wandered through the pedestrian traffic of late-morning after hanging up. Her steps a bit lighter and more buoyant after hearing from Garrett. As she put her phone in her bag, she finally smiled at the world around her. She was distracted by the sights, excited by the prospect of going home to Garrett. The sharp tones of a bell rang in her ears and she hurried to the side, narrowly escaping a bike messenger as he jumped the curb and sped down the sidewalk. Her ankle rolled as she stepped out of his way, forcing her to fall in a graceless heap in the middle of the throng of people.

  “Ouch, shit!”

  Her ankle started to stiffen instantly, she could feel the blood rushing to the injury, feel the throb of a broken bone.

  Nausea took hold as she attempted to rise and put her weight on her foot. Grasping the wall next to her for support, she hopped along the sidewalk until she found a place to sit that was out of the way. Her ankle ached and pulsed, sending pain up her leg, causing her to clench her teeth against the discomfort.

  “Miss? Are you hurt?” A young woman, about her own age, stood at the doorway of the boutique Angela had seated herself in front of.

  Dropping her head in her hands, Angela sighed and blew out a breath to focus her pain elsewhere. “No. I twisted my ankle.”

  The woman sucked in a sharp breath as she rolled up Angela’s pant leg, revealing the misshapen ankle. “Let me help you inside. We’ll get you some ice.”

  Angela briefly considered denying help, hopping her way back to the hotel, and wallowing in her own misery. Then she tried to stand on both feet and the sharp pain sent her head spinning.

  “You’re pale. You need to puke?”

  Angela shook her head, not entirely sure she didn’t need to vomit, but afraid to open her mouth. The woman wrapped an arm around her and helped her inside. The boutique was small and quiet with clothes in all whites, creams, and silver.

  “Here, have a seat.” She eyed Angela dubiously. “Yeah, that looks bad. I’ll call for an ambulance. You want some wat
er?”

  Angela shook her head. Mortification at her own clumsiness crashing down. She heard the soft sound of a camera shutter clicking and her attention was jerked to the two women who stood behind a rack of clothes, phones in hand and pointing.

  Oh, crap. It’s going to be all over the Internet.

  As she waited, a clammy sweat broke out on her forehead. Her ankle was really starting to swell now and as she worked to wiggle her toes she sucked in a harsh breath. White-hot pain lanced through her. It was bad. Definitely broken.

  The sound of sirens broke through the haze of agony she was wading through. At this point, she didn’t give a rat’s ass if she was on the Internet. She needed to be drugged and set up with something to keep her ankle in place.

  Her phone rang as she was loaded into the ambulance. Marcus. Rolling her eyes, she ignored the call and smiled at the paparazzi who had caught wind of her predicament.

  “Have you called Aiden? Does he know you’re hurt? Were you having an argument with Garrett on the phone when it happened?”

  Her eyes went wide at the implication. How did they know she’d been talking to Garrett? Damn it. She’d said his name during their phone call. Someone had overheard.

  Hospitals were always the same. Antiseptic, bare, and eerie. Ever since Simon had died, Angela had struggled with the sounds of shoes squeaking on tile. Valerie was even worse than her—barely able to walk into a hospital without hyperventilating.

  Now, she sat on the uncomfortable bed, waiting. Anxiety clawed at her stomach. Her x-rays were over and done with, she was sure the ankle was broken, all that was left was for the doctor to confirm her suspicions. She’d experienced it too many times not to recognize the feel of a break. That wasn’t what she was worried about. The comments from the paparazzi left a sour taste in her mouth. Were you arguing with Garrett on the phone . . . Why would they think she’d been arguing with him? They’d already hung up, the bike messenger was the reason she’d fallen. Garrett had nothing to do with it.