by Kim Loraine
The murmur of the camera crew behind her made it impossible for her to forget they were there, as Aiden had assured her she would.
“God, this shit is boring. When are they going to give us something else we can use?” The crew didn’t do a very good job of keeping their conversations to themselves. Usually she tuned them out. In this case, she couldn’t help but tense at their words. They were looking for any chance of drama, any moment she might slip up. A sense of cold dread trickled down her spine at the thought that the crew might have caught on to her longing looks in Garrett’s direction. They’d said something else, which meant they already had something.
She pushed herself out of her chair and handed the guitar back to a waiting tech. Pulling her phone free of her pocket, she dialed Aiden’s number and pasted a smile on her face as the cameras swung in her direction.
“Hey there, baby doll. What’s happening?”
“Hi, babe. I miss you. When can I see you?”
His voice took on a surprised note. “I’ll be back in a few hours. Sound check.”
“It’s just been so long since we’ve been able to be alone. I need some time with you.”
He chuckled. “Can’t get enough of me, huh?”
She grinned and shook her head. “Nope. Never.”
She laughed as he put on a show of adding a soft groan of frustration after her statement. There were two camera crews following them. One with her at all times, the other with Aiden. The network might have played it off as a documentary of the tour with Violet Hour, but this was obviously an Angela and Aiden reality show.
“I’ll be there soon. After the show, we can make sure to get you what you need.”
She blushed, her cheeks hot with embarrassment of the implied plans for their evening.
“Promise?”
“Absolutely. I can’t deny you anything.”
She hung up with the camera crew right in her face. Her gaze drifted to Garrett, standing a short distance from them with a faint look of distress on his features. He’d heard her. And it killed her.
No matter how many times she assured him she only wanted to be with him, this charade was hurtful.
It’s only a few more months. Then it’s over. Then it’ll stop.
She reminded herself that the cameras were still rolling and took pains to smile brightly as she crossed the room to where Garrett and Parker both stood. Sitting on the edge of the stage, she made sure to keep Parker between herself and Garrett.
“Well, if it isn’t little miss hot shit herself.” Parker’s words were harsh but he had a grin on his face.
She chucked a guitar pick at him and it landed squarely in the middle of his forehead making him wince and laugh at the same time.
“Careful, this is my money maker.”
Garrett broke in with a chuckle. “Don’t quit your day job.”
“Aw, you’re just jealous.”
Garrett’s eyes focused on her with a barely disguised heat burning in their depths.
“You, uh, you get your kit all taken care of, Gare?” She had to say something to him.
He nodded, dropping his attention to the braided bracelet at his wrist. “Yeah, new drum heads needed tuning.”
She reached down to pick at the knee of her jeans and sighed when she remembered she wasn’t allowed her comfy clothes anymore. Now she was outfitted in what could only be called Rocker Chic. The outfit of the day consisted of weird patterned leggings, sky-high chunky booties, a ridiculous studded belt, and a skintight top that revealed far too much cleavage.
“Lunch?” She was embarrassed by the meek sound that came from her.
Garrett’s face softened as he smiled. “Yeah.” He tucked a stray lock of hair behind one ear and cocked an eyebrow. “Parker’s buying.”
He put an arm around her shoulders as she grabbed Parker’s hand to pull him along.
Garrett’s breath on her neck made her want to shiver as he leaned his head toward hers and whispered in her ear, “You look so fucking sexy right now.”
Her cheeks flamed and heat shot through her. She wanted him so badly. They’d barely touched since this leg of the tour had started. Even though she knew they shouldn’t be this close, she couldn’t push him away. It felt so right.
“Stop it,” she hissed.
“I want inside you so much it hurts.”
She bit back a moan and sent up a silent prayer that none of that got caught on camera.
Turning to look back at the camera crew, a safe fifteen feet behind them, she waved and made a run for it. Pulling Garrett and Parker with her, the three of them managed to make it out the door and into her waiting town car before the crew could follow.
They were all wearing wide smiles and breathing heavily as the car took off.
“Where are we going, miss?” the driver asked, a mischievous glint in his eye.
“I want a good burger. Anywhere we can get one of those?”
“Right, you’ll be wanting privacy, too, I suppose?”
She answered with a smile and a nod.
“Leave it to me, then.”
They pulled away just as the camera crew burst through the doors. From the looks on their faces, she’d be hearing from Marcus about her stunt.
As Garrett settled in next to her and grazed her thigh with his thumb she realized she didn’t give a rat’s ass what Marcus had to say.
A few days after the band escaped the camera crew for their impromptu lunch, Angela was itching for freedom again. She’d been chastised by Marcus—just as she’d expected. This time she was prepared. She needed to see Garrett.
Pulling out her phone, she typed a short text to him.
Meet me outside in ten?
As she waited for his reply, she glanced at the shopping bags on her hotel bed. Thank God the camera crews hadn’t followed her during her shopping trip. It was ridiculous that she had to resort to disguises in order to see the man she loved.
Her phone buzzed on the bed and a thrill of anticipation raced up her spine.
I’ll be there in five.
She pulled all three of her newly purchased wigs from the bags. They’d been expensive but were realistic. Choosing the chin length, red bob, she made quick work of braiding her own honey colored locks and tucked them into the wig.
“Not bad.”
She looked so different. After throwing on some large sunglasses, she jumped at the sound of a knock on her door.
“Ms. Peters, the camera crew is ready to start rolling. Are you decent?”
She had to hold back her giggle. “Not yet, sorry. Give me five more minutes. I’m meeting the band at the bar for dinner. Tell them to start rolling down there. I’ll be there soon.”
Shoving the window open and stepping out onto the fire escape, she thanked her lucky stars no one could see her climbing down the five stories to the ground below. The wind blew her skirt up around her thighs and she fought to keep the fabric down as she descended the metal stairs. When her feet finally made contact with the pavement she let out a sigh of relief.
She grinned as she rounded the corner and passed the throng of photographers that sat in wait for a sign of her or Aiden. Clearly the wig worked. No one noticed her.
Garrett stood a few blocks down, waiting. He stared up at the iconic London buildings surrounding him.
She chuckled as she strolled past him—twice. He did nothing more than smile and nod at her until her third pass. His mouth dropped in a surprised expression which was immediately replaced by a grin.
“Hey, aren’t you that drummer from that band?” she teased.
His eyes twinkled with amusement. “I am.”
She snuggled up to him, pressing herself against the line of his amazing body.
�
�Wanna get out of here? I’ve got a thing for drummers. When I saw you standing there I just couldn’t keep away.”
“I really shouldn’t, I’ve got a girlfriend.”
Her mouth went dry at that word. They still hadn’t put a label on what they were.
“I like the red, Angie.” He broke the spell, twining his fingers with hers.
“Do you think someone will recognize me?” She hissed the words under her breath. They were still close enough to the paparazzi that they might be found out.
“I didn’t recognize you, and I’ve been looking at you for twelve years.”
Her heart flipped at his admission. What kind of guy says things like that? She smiled as her answer came as quickly as the question. The forever kind.
As they walked together in relative anonymity, she began to embrace the freedom her disguise offered. No one looked at her with more than vague interest. Throwing caution out the window, she draped her arms around his neck and pushed him up against a wall. She brushed his lips with hers, needing to drink him in. She teased and tasted him in a gentle dance of light pressure and a hint of tongue.
He gripped her hips and pressed her pelvis into him, making it clear what he needed from her.
“We’re playing with fire out here.” It was a half-assed rejection. She wanted more, just as much as he did. “Come on, let’s go somewhere no one can see us.” He pulled her with him, not waiting for an answer.
They ended up at a near empty showing of some independent film they’d never heard of. As the lights went down his hand strayed from the armrest to her knee. Her senses were heightened in the darkness of the theater. Every brush of his thumb as it circled the inside of her knee made her shiver. She shifted in her seat, feeling everything, the brush of the fabric against the backs of her thighs, the warmth of his skin, the callouses on his fingers.
Garrett slid his hand up her thigh and under the hem of her flowery sundress. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep her moan at bay. When his fingers brushed against her panties, she let out a sigh.
She laid her forehead against his and whispered, “We can’t. We’re in public.”
“I won’t let us get caught. Besides, no one is here except that guy in the front. He’s ten rows away.”
He kissed her, then pushed her underwear aside and slid his fingers inside of her.
Her nerve endings were on fire as he took her with his mouth and his hand. It didn’t take long before she was hovering on the edge of what she so desperately craved. Deep kisses gave way to softer and more tender moments as Garrett’s worked his magic.
“Are you ready?” he asked, his breaths harsh.
All she could do was nod, not trusting herself to make a sound.
He pulled his lips away from her and cupped her cheek with his free hand.
“I want to watch you.”
She locked eyes with him and the look on his face was enough to send her over the crest. She bit her lip and controlled her breathing as the pleasure coursed through her, hoping her eyes conveyed exactly what he was doing to her.
He placed his forehead on hers again and chuckled. “That was so fucking hot.”
They stayed through the entire film, phones turned off, ignoring the world. She didn’t want to leave the comfort of his arm around her while she rested her head against his chest. It was something so normal, so easy, that it broke her heart to think about how hard it was to make it happen.
They went their separate ways as the credits rolled. As she removed her wig and let her hair loose, she quickly changed her top and stuffed the wig back into her purse. The photographers were waiting for her outside of the hotel, recognizing her immediately. The darkened evening sky lit up as flashes went off, following her into the hotel. At least she was going in alone. She just needed to text Garrett and let him know he could come back within an hour.
As she turned her phone on alarm bells rang in her head. Twenty-five missed calls and messages from Marcus. Shit. She’d been hoping her absence hadn’t been a big deal.
After listening to the most recent voicemails she got the gist of his issue. The film crew was pissed. This wasn’t good for her or for Aiden. She needed to be more present in Aiden’s world and less in her own.
Garrett fought back a groan of frustration as he rounded the corner to the green room and was greeted with Aiden and Angela’s constant companions. He reminded himself that there had been a time when he loved watching shows just like the one they were filming. There had been days his mother had to hide the remote just so she could get him to take care of other things that didn’t matter nearly as much to him—like homework. Nothing was as important as seeing some band he worshipped give a tour of their bus. Not even passing geometry.
Angela sat snuggled into Aiden’s lap, her head nestled on his chest and his hand placed possessively on her thigh. An ache took hold in his heart at the sight of her with anyone but him, but the quick look of apology she sent him coated him like a salve. She hated this as much as he did.
“Garrett. Hey, man. What’s happening?” Aiden put on a big grin and that trademark charm of his. Garrett’s skin crawled at the sight.
“Nothing much. I need to talk to Angie for a few though. I got the rough cuts of the new album from Jason today. We need to give them a listen and decide what to push through and what to toss.”
“You sure you’ll be okay with him for a while, baby doll?”
Angela’s eyes widened and Aiden gave her a gentle push off his lap.
Shock radiated through him at Aiden’s insinuation. Would she be okay? Of course she’d be okay with him. He took a calming breath and forced himself to be aware of the cameras in the room, all focused on him and his reaction.
“She’ll be fine, Aiden. She knows me better than anyone.” Try as he might to keep his cool, the words came out clipped.
Aiden got to his feet, a fierce expression on his face and a glimmer of excitement in his eyes.
“You have a problem with me?”
Garrett wanted to say, Yes, fucking hell, I do. I want you to get your hands off what is mine. Stop making her be someone she’s not. Instead, he held his tongue.
Aiden crossed the room, causing the stupid, fucking cameras to swing around and catch his every movement. “I think you need to remember who she chose.” He leaned in. His face inches away from Garrett’s. “I’m the one she wants. She always says yes to me. How many times has she told you the same?”
That was it, the final straw. Garrett’s hand balled into a fist and made contact with Aiden’s face of its own volition. Sharp pain bloomed and spread over his knuckles and the room moved in slow motion.
He was aware of three things simultaneously, Angela’s cry of shock, the unsettling crunch of Aiden’s nose breaking, and the copious amount of blood pouring from said nose.
The cameraman closest to Garrett chuckled. “Awesome!”
Garrett turned on him. “Shut that fucking thing off. Now!”
Heart hammering in his chest, he turned and pushed his way out of the room. He stalked down the empty corridor. The only sounds came from the soles of his shoes, until the bright clack of Angela’s heels butted in.
“Garrett! Garrett, wait,” she called, her voice echoing off the walls and ceiling.
He raked a hand through his hair and considered stopping but chose to continue on his path to put him as far from Aiden as possible. As he felt her closing in on him he pushed through the next door he came to, stopping as he took in the darkened locker room. As he’d expected, the door swung open immediately, leaving him and an irate Angela alone in the dark.
“What the hell, Gare?”
The only light came from a few small, frosted windows at the other end of the room. Her face was bathed in a gentle, blue hue that cast an ethereal glow over
her.
“He’s a fucking prick. He’s using you.”
She threw the lock over on the door and grabbed his hands, pulling him to a bench, a look of frustration on her face.
“We’re using each other. You know that. Why did it bother you so much this time?”
“It bothers me every time. He doesn’t know you—the real you. I do. We fight, we make up, we come out stronger. But he acts like I’m just here to be a punching bag.”
He couldn’t bring his eyes to meet hers. He hated this feeling, this festering jealousy that took hold. It wasn’t good for him, for her, or for the band. A cold sweat crept along his skin at the thought of what he knew he needed to do.
He had to end this.
His head told him he was making the right choice. His heart was another matter. It screamed and clawed, I only just got her. Don’t give her up now!
Taking the chicken shit way out, he stared down at the small, blue tiles that lined the floor. The grout was dark with dirt from years of use. His hand gave a dull throb from where he’d punched Aiden and he rubbed at the knuckles.
He took a breath to steady himself before he locked his heart away. This was going to break him. “We need to t—”
“Let me see.”
She didn’t wait for him to protest. Before he could do anything, she was examining the reddened surface of his skin, pressing her lips to the tender knuckle of his middle finger, and breaking his resolve.
Chapter 28