Resonance (A Golden Beach Novel)

by Kim Loraine

  “Never mind. I’m heading out. I need some fresh air.”

  Parker grunted and carried on scowling at his game.

  As Garrett stepped out into the bright light of the beginnings of a Californian summer, he pulled his baseball hat down over his eyes and heaved a sigh. There had to be a coffee shop here somewhere. Sure enough, he saw the telltale green and white logo after a few blocks of walking.

  Moments later, he was seated outside, with a paper cup filled with coffee—complete with his name misspelled on the side. He pulled his pocket notebook out and started scribbling nonsense words, hoping for inspiration to strike.

  “Oh. My. God. You’re Garrett Donalson!”

  He raised his eyes from his paper and found a gorgeous brunette standing in front of him. She was hot, decked out in tight yoga pants and an equally fitted tank that accentuated her full breasts.

  “You’re even hotter in person,” she gushed.

  “Thanks.”

  He didn’t want to talk. Not even to this goddess.

  “Can you sign something for me?” She put on a pouty face he could only assume was due to his indifference.

  “Uh, sure.”

  She fished around in her bag and pulled out two business cards. Bending down to slide the cards across the table, she pressed her breasts together and offered him a full view of her cleavage.

  “My name is Brooklyn. Can you sign one for me? You keep the other one in case you need . . . anything.”

  He couldn’t help but grin as she tossed her hair and bit her bottom lip.

  “Thanks, Brooklyn.” He signed the card and pulled the spare toward him.

  Brooklyn Hanson: Massage Therapist.

  “So, it was nice meeting you,” she offered. “If you need someone to distract you from Angela going solo, I’m available.”

  What?

  He nodded and turned his eyes back to his paper, willing her to leave. As soon as she disappeared around the corner, he pulled out his phone and opened a search engine. Typing in Panic Station and Angela Peters, he felt a tightening in his chest as the headlines appeared.

  Peters and Donalson scandal causes split.

  Going Solo? Panic Station singer moves on.

  Chapter 34

  Six years earlier

  Garrett sat at his rickety old desk as he stared down the pile of envelopes from various colleges. He’d applied to six schools and had received big, fat envelopes from four of them. His palms were damp with sweat as he thought about his future. Touring with the band this summer was the start of his dream, but his parents had been pushing college.

  A knock on his door saved him from having to face the envelopes yet again.

  “Garrett? Can I talk to you a second?” His dad stood in the doorway, crowding the frame with his large body.

  “Yeah. What’s up?”

  Garrett watched his dad cross the room and settle onto the twin bed, the springs groaning under his weight. Apprehension took hold at the resolved expression on his face. Garrett knew that face. That was the face of a man about to deliver bad news, or at least something he wasn’t going to want to hear.

  “Bud, we need to talk about your plans.”

  Garrett crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. “Dad, I’m just not sure—”

  “You’ve got a bunch of big envelopes over there that say you’ve got lots of options, but it sure looks like you haven’t opened a single one.” His dad cocked an eyebrow and nodded in the direction of the offending pile.

  He didn’t want to talk about this again. But his dad wasn’t budging.

  “I don’t know if I want to see what’s in them,” Garrett admitted.

  “Why?”

  Garrett ran a hand through his hair and leaned back in his desk chair. “Because it might mean the end of the band. If I go to Berklee in Boston, or Cornish in Seattle, that’s it. Angie is going to Wesleyan. Parker is staying local, too. They want to keep the band together.”

  “And what do you want?”

  That question shouldn’t have been so hard to answer. It was simple. What did he want? He wanted to be famous. He wanted the band to get a record deal, win Grammys, and live out their dreams. But he also knew from a lifetime of his father’s wisdom, he needed a realistic plan. Angela was confident they’d make it, but he was uncertain.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Berklee has been your dream since you were twelve years old. The band will still be here when you get back.”

  “I can’t just leave them.”

  His dad’s expression softened and he stood, grabbing the top envelope off the pile. “Open it.” He thrust the heavy, cream package into Garrett’s hands.

  Of course, it was Berklee he had to open first. He grinned in spite of his nerves as he slid his finger under the flap and pulled the envelope open. His hands shook as he took in the text and his heart fluttered, overwhelmed.

  “I got in,” he whispered.

  “Of course you did.”

  His dad clapped him on the back and, with a light squeeze to his shoulder walked toward the door.

  “We’re so proud. Do what’s right for you. Angie and Parker will be behind your choice.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  He watched as his dad nodded and left the room, closing the door behind him and leaving him with a big decision to make.

  Garrett pulled his phone from his pocket and sent a text to Angela. Need to talk. Can you get away?

  He waited for what seemed like hours for her to respond. Truthfully, only five minutes passed before her message came through. Cups. Ten minutes?

  Typing an affirmative reply, he grabbed his Berklee acceptance letter and ran down the stairs.

  His mom looked up from the novel she’d been writing. “Where are you off to?” she asked as he grabbed his keys.

  “Cups. I’m meeting Angie. I got in to Berklee.”

  Her face brightened and he could tell she wanted to gush over his news. As she took in his expression, she took a deep breath. “Honey, she’ll understand.”

  “I really hope so.”

  As he pulled out of the driveway his heart hammered in his chest. The more he thought about Berklee, the deeper his excitement dug in.

  He sat at Cups, hands persistently hammering on the table. Every jingle of the bells as the door opened sent his nerves jumping. When she finally breezed through the door his breath caught in his throat.

  She was beautiful. Her golden hair long and flowing all the way to her waist. They had one moment together a year ago and she’d burned herself onto his heart for the rest of his life. He knew, no matter what happened, he’d never be able to forget those heated minutes in his basement.

  “Hey,” she said as her eyes found his.

  “You want a caramel macchiato?”

  She snorted. “You have to ask?”

  They sipped their coffee in silence and he struggled to bring the words he needed to say to his lips.

  “What’s that?” She reached for the envelope, sliding it out from under his hand without giving him an opportunity to stop her.

  “Berklee?” she whispered. “You got in.”

  He twisted his bracelet and avoided her eyes, anxious about the prospect of seeing hurt or disappointment in them.

  When he didn’t respond, she smacked him with the envelope. “You’re going to go, right?”

  He shook his head and shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Bullshit. You’re absolutely going.”

  As he looked into her hazel eyes he saw nothing but happiness. “What about the band?”

  She smirked. “You afraid we’ll replace you?”

  A laugh escaped him. “Maybe.”

  She took his hand and
smiled. “I’d never do that. It’s you, me, and Parker. Forever.”

  Chapter 35

  “Are you seriously telling me you think I want to ditch you guys?” Angela couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She sat across from them in the living room of the house Garrett and Parker were sharing. Both men looked at her like they didn’t know who she was.

  “Considering the way you’ve been acting since the tour. If it meant you’d be saving your image . . . yeah.” Parker’s eyes were trained on the coffee table, not able to meet hers.

  That hurt. Parker had always been able to see through the label bullshit. He’d never given her a hard time about what she wore, who she was supposed to be dating, or even meddled in her relationship with Garrett—at least not very much.

  “I don’t know what to tell you.” Her eyes stung with tears, but she pushed them aside, not wanting to let them see how this affected her.

  “Did you know Marcus wants Parker to either play straight or be willing to keep Jason a secret?” Garrett twirled his bracelet around on his wrist, picking at the end and keeping his soulful eyes from hers.

  “For how long?”

  They both brought their gazes to hers, looks of hurt and incredulity on their faces.

  “Are you kidding me?” Garrett snapped.

  “I mean, I get it. It might alienate the demographic we’re going for. Being seen as unavailable.” She couldn’t understand why they didn’t see how much sense it made.

  “Why was it such a big deal for you to be dating Aiden then? That made you both pretty damn unavailable.” Garrett’s voice was a harsh growl.

  “Aiden needed to clean up his image. I’m a girl. My demographic doesn’t care if I’m taken.”

  Parker stood and ran a hand through his blond hair. “I don’t fucking believe this. You sound like Marcus, and fucking sexist. Where’s the strong-willed, feminist you’ve always been?”

  That hit her like a slap to the face.

  “What do you mean? Don’t you understand how this works? It’s the image that matters. Be who you are in private, but our persona is what sells records.”

  “Oh, my fucking God. They’ve turned you,” Parker muttered as he paced the floor.

  “No, they haven’t. This is business. Like it or not, we are a business now. The product is us.”

  Garrett stared daggers and her voice caught in her throat.

  “The product is our music, Angie. I think you’ve forgotten that.” His voice was low and controlled, but she saw pain in his eyes.

  “I know that,” she said, frustrated and feeling like she was being met with a brick wall. “But we are the packaging. Like it or not.”

  “Well, I don’t like it. I can’t believe you’re on board with this. Whoring Garrett out to lingerie models and keeping me from being who I am. I’ve never been in the closet, Angie. Never. My parents knew I was gay before I knew how to articulate it.”

  “You said Marcus wanted you to either play straight or keep Jason a secret. Can’t you still be openly gay? You can be who you are. Just make yourself appear available.”

  Parker’s lower lip trembled slightly as he listened to her. His eyes brimmed with tears and he took a deep breath, blew it out and swiped away the moisture that had fallen to his cheeks. “I’m not keeping Jason a secret. That might be how you treat people you love, but it’s not how I do it.”

  He turned on his heel and stalked out of the house, leaving her shocked and feeling like shit.

  “The hits just keep coming,” Garrett muttered as she sat there, willing him to say something in her defense.

  “I—”

  “You should go. I think you’ve said enough.”

  Standing her ground, she stared at him.

  “Get the fuck out, Angela. I don’t want to see you right now. Maybe you should go solo. You’re definitely helping us see how little you think of us.”

  Somewhere in the back of her mind, the betrayed look in his eyes sliced through her. But they weren’t seeing the big picture. They weren’t looking forward at the future of the band. She was.

  “Gare—”

  “No. Stop talking. Stop hurting me. And Parker. I can’t believe you’d do something like that to him. He’s done nothing to deserve it.”

  He took her arm in his hand and pulled her toward the door. God help her, but that one touch, his skin on hers, sent fire racing through her. She missed him, ached for him to take her into his arms.

  She turned to face him, pressing her body against his and taking in his face. His eyes were trained on the wall behind her, but she knew all it would take would be to push forward and close the distance. Inhaling a sharp breath, she bit her lower lip when his gaze finally fell on her. He clenched his jaw and she thought he was going to kiss her. Anticipation crashed over her but was met with disappointment as he pulled her into a tight embrace instead. His arms crushed her against his chest and he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before pushing her away and opening the door.

  “Figure out who you want to be.”

  Angela couldn’t see through the ridiculous false eyelashes she was wearing as she lay draped over the laps of two sexy male models, one looked suspiciously like Garrett while the other bore a strong resemblance to Aiden. Yet another photo shoot for a magazine, objectifying her. The comments Garrett and Parker had made seemed impossible to push from her mind as she stared down at her clothes. This time she was wearing a black lace corset and matching boy shorts, had a pair of handcuffs on her wrists, and a studded collar around her neck.

  She fought off a wave of humiliation as the wardrobe assistant attached the leash and handed it to the Garrett look-alike. The other model chuckled as the photographer told her to stick her ass in the air so he could pretend to spank her. She’d been told the concept was based on the idea that she’d been pulled apart by two dominant men, and was breaking free. So far, it seemed more like a play on the BDSM craze the mainstream world had jumped onto.

  After she was done, she sat in her dressing room, wincing as she pulled the fake eyelashes off. Her eyes watered and she looked at herself. Done up like a painted whore, as her mom always said.

  A soft knock on her door had her turning her attention from her own reflection. Aiden stood in the doorway, a grin on his face and a bouquet of peonies in one hand.

  “Hey there, baby doll.”

  “Aiden, what are you doing here?”

  She hadn’t seen or heard from him since Garrett broke it off with her.

  “I missed you. I know things went to hell, but I miss spending time with you.”

  Her heart swelled. She needed this. Needed someone to want to be around her. The last two weeks had been incredibly lonely. No one was talking to her. Garrett and Parker went through the motions during their scheduled appearances, but that was the only contact they had with her.

  “Come here, baby doll. What’s going on?”

  She went to him with tears in her eyes. He didn’t ask for anything, just pulled her to him and let her cry.

  “I’m sorry,” she said when she finally lifted her face from his shirt. She’d left a makeup smudge on the dark fabric. With a gentle hand, he brushed her hair away from her face and traced the line of her lips with his thumb.

  “It’s okay. Now, tell me what’s wrong?”

  “Garrett left me. Parker won’t talk to me. They hate me. They just don’t understand.”

  He lowered his face to hers and pressed a kiss to her cheek, murmuring against her cheek, “I’m so sorry, baby doll.”

  Needing a connection to someone, she turned her face and pressed her lips to his. It wasn’t who she wanted but in that moment she didn’t care. She needed Aiden to make her feel desired, worth loving, even if it was a lie.

  His lips against hers were hot and hungr
y, begging for her to open and deepen the kiss. Kicking the door closed, he pressed her back toward the couch in the small dressing room, reconnecting his lips to hers as they went.

  Pulling back, his eyes roamed her body, taking in the lack of clothing covering her skin.

  “I like the new look.”

  She shifted under his gaze. “It’s so uncomfortable.”

  “Maybe I should help you get out of it?”

  Her stomach clenched at the idea of Aiden’s hands on her. It was undeniable that they had chemistry, but crossing that line, even though Garrett had cut her loose, still felt wrong.

  He doesn’t want you anymore. You’re not doing anything wrong.

  Aiden’s fingers pulled at the laces of her corset, slowly freeing her of its confines. The air hit her sensitive skin as he pulled the fabric away and bared her to him.

  “Wow, you’re more amazing than I imagined.”

  “You thought I’d be amazing?”

  “That was a given. I just never thought I’d get a chance to see it.”

  He fastened his lips around one of her nipples and began a slow and seductive dance with his tongue, teasing and tasting her.

  “Aiden, wait.”

  He dropped his head to her chest and sighed as if he knew this was a possibility.

  “I’m sorry. I just . . . I’m—”

  “Not ready?”

  She nodded. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine.”

  She couldn’t help but chuckle as he reached down to adjust the raging erection tenting his pants. He blushed, honest to God, blushed at her laughter.

  “I’d rather not be the rebound guy anyway.”

  Looking around the room, she snatched the plush robe off the back of her vanity chair and covered her naked skin.

  “Call me when you’re ready to move on, baby doll. Garrett doesn’t know what he gave up.”