Seattle Sound Series, The Collection: Books One to Five

by Alexa Padgett

  “I would, too, darling.” She waved her hand. “But that would make me a disgusting lech.”

  “You’re something. I wish it was perverse,” Simon Dorsey said, smacking a kiss on her cheek.

  “So, Clay, this is the rest of my crazy family.”

  I smiled, overwhelmed but charmed.

  Hayden clapped me on the back. “They take getting used to.”

  “Be glad I love you,” Briar said, pinching his butt as she walked by to hug Abbi. “Good to see you, Abs. Clay.” She nodded in my direction. “I hear you’re performing for the crazy clan tonight.”

  “And for the first time, ever, I’m nervous,” I admitted.

  “Because of all the raw musical awesomeness in one place?” Hayden asked, opening the fridge and pulling out a container. “We are amazing. Crikey, Lia. What happened to my lemonade?”

  “I haven’t had a chance to make more,” Lia said, kissing his cheek.

  “Fair dinkum, woman. You know I live for that stuff. Now I’m going to have to drink one of Asher’s lightweight Yank beers.”

  Abbi squeezed my fingers. “Let’s walk down to the lake.” She tugged me toward the doors.

  “Shouldn’t we say something?”

  “So polite,” Abbi teased. “They understand you’re overwhelmed. You look ready to duck and cover. Plus, my mom wants to tell Aunt Bri, Uncle Simon, and the rest of the crew what I told her, and I don’t want to be there for the rehash.”

  We walked across the soft grass toward a low gate. I opened it for Abbi. We walked to the end of the dock, and I sighed, the peace of the lake sliding into my chest.

  “This place is great.”

  “I like it. Different from our place out in Rathdrum.”

  “Where’s that?” I pulled her down to sit next to me on the dock.

  “Idaho. We lived there from the time I was nine until Mom and Asher started dating when I was seventeen.”

  “Do you miss it?”

  She started to say something but hesitated. “No,” she said, surprise lacing her voice. “I don’t.”

  I brushed her hair from her lips. She smiled, pressing a kiss to my thumb. The late afternoon sunshine caught her hair, making it glow red. I was struck by the perfectness of the moment.

  “Thanks for bringing me here today.”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s my line. I’m so glad you were tenacious in your pursuit of being my friend.”

  I chuckled. “I’m not known for my staying power. My longest relationship before you was about—oh—fifty minutes.”

  Fear slid into her eyes. “I guess I’m lucky then. To be graced with your presence still. For almost a week.”

  The breeze picked up, pushing her hair back into her face. I brushed it back, catching it in my fist. “I told your mom I wanted us to move in together.”

  She wet her lip with the tip of her tongue. “How’d that go over?”

  “She seemed open to the idea.”

  “My mom’s been waiting for me to fall . . .” She peeked at me from the corner of her eyes, probably gauging my reaction to her words.

  I knew what she’d been about to say, and as much as I cared about Abbi, I wasn’t willing to go there. Not yet. Love, for me, meant what I’d once thought my parents had—finding and connecting with each other despite the media and fans and the craziness of raising three kids and coping with Cassidy’s cancer. When I’d realized their relationship was built on lies, something fundamental inside me snapped.

  I managed to check the shudder that started at the base of my spine. I wasn’t willing to buy Abbi a ring and start popping out kids. Or even think about it.

  “I’m twenty-two. Moving in together is one thing, but marriage could wait a couple of decades, easy.”

  She ducked back, away from me. “Yeah. Totally. So . . . I want to hang out with Mason before we have to go to your gig tonight.”

  “Abbi,” I caught her shoulder. “That came out wrong. I care about you. More than I have for any other woman. Ever. But—” I blew out a breath. I hadn’t talked about it with anyone. Had never planned to. “I used to believe in love. Like in that old movie, The Princess Bride. My mom loved that one and made us watch it every Christmas break.”

  “I’m sure there’s some connection between your folks and us, but I’m not following what this has to do with some movie.”

  “Wesley chases after Buttercup, fighting giants and evil princes for her. Because they had true love. I always saw my parents’ relationship like that. My dad turning down easy lays or a bathroom blowjob because he loved my mom.”

  Abbi wrinkled her nose. “Not sure I like that comparison, but okay.”

  “Except he didn’t actually turn women down. He was just discreet. I caught him once. At the studio.” I exhaled hard. “Then, the day we found out Cassie’s chemo was failing, her body was failing, my parents had some fight. I don’t know what it was about. Colt texted me about it. Dad left Mom there at the hospital, all upset. The doctors didn’t expect Cassie to make it through the week. Worst case, she wouldn’t make it through the night. I got there in time to see my dad drive off. I followed him, thinking he might need me.”

  I swallowed down the bile that always accompanied thoughts from that day. “He drove into town, not to our house. He greeted some woman in a hotel lobby. Took her hand and led her to the elevators.” My voice broke. Shit. The betrayal was fresh, a kick to the gut I couldn’t handle.

  “I’m sorry, Clay,” she whispered, snuggling her cheek over my heart.

  “He showed up at the hospital a few hours later, relaxed and showered. He’d changed his clothes. He smiled and kissed my mom’s temple. Fucking kissed her and Cassidy like nothing had happened.”

  I didn’t realize I was squeezing Abbi’s waist until she wriggled backward.

  “So you think your dad ran off to screw some woman while your mom and sister were at the hospital?”

  I looked up at the ponderous gray clouds hanging over the house. Or were they over me? I hated how sordid it sounded when she said it out loud. “Yes.”

  “Have you asked him about it?”

  I shook my head hard. “Hell no.”

  Abbi rolled her lips into her mouth as she pulled slowly out of my arms. “How can you be sure that’s what happened?”

  “Seriously? Abbi, he came back showered. He had to have fucked her.” I twisted away from her, needing space. Needing to hit something. “God! He cheated on my mom when my sister was struggling to survive. That’s not what love’s supposed to be.”

  Abbi stepped in front of me, halting my jerky march. She placed a hand on my heaving chest, smoothing her palm over me. Soothing the ache.

  “Did you believe those pictures about me, Clay? When you first saw them? Did you think I was the school slut who decided to bang half the male population in one night?”

  I cupped her cheek, looked into her eyes. “Kinda.” I hated admitting it. “I mean, you looked drugged but I figured you’d had too much to drink but knew what was going on.” Shame washed over me. Wasn’t that just another way men took advantage of helpless women?

  “Most people did. Didn’t matter that I’d never done something like that before. That I look sick and lost in those pictures. You saw that. You talked to me, got past the sordidness of it all until you saw me.”

  My shoulders tensed. Abbi going through that, alone, pissed me off. I pulled her back to my chest, wrapping my arms around her. Needing her there to comfort me as much as her.

  “That’s different.”

  “Is it? How can you know if you don’t ask? I chose not to give details because I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to ask for help. That was wrong, and I regret not telling my family sooner. They would’ve helped me.”

  “You didn’t do anything wrong,” I mumbled.

  “Maybe your dad will confirm he had an affair. But what if there’s an explanation he’s never given you because he has no idea you saw him go to that hotel?”
/>   “Abbi—”

  She cut me off. “What if you’ve believed he cheated because it’s your nightmare? Waking up in that frat house, assuming those guys . . . that was rock bottom for me, Clay. Except it wasn’t. I found out later people believing I’d do that to hurt my family because there were rumors that I hated my mom’s new husband, that was the worst. Because I’d never, ever do anything to hurt the people I love. Not on purpose.”

  I didn’t want to meet her gaze. I didn’t want her to see what her words were doing to me. My choices were to retreat or to attack.

  I stepped back, toward the lake.

  “It sucks that you make sense. It’s just . . . I don’t want to know. Not really.”

  Abbi threaded her index fingers through my belt loops, pulling my hips closer to hers. I stilled as her floral shampoo drifted up, wrapping around my heated mind. Calming me. I’d resent the hell out of her for it if she’d done it intentionally.

  “I get that. Some truths suck.”

  “More like blast away at your foundations.”

  We were quiet, both of us turned to look out at the water. My body, warmed by hers, started to relax. I wrapped her in my arms and she settled against me.

  “I’ve always known I was wired to love someone like the people in that movie you mentioned.” Her voice was soft but sure. “With the pictures and the media hell my life’s going to be . . . It’s asking a lot of you, Clay. I don’t want to force you into something you’re not ready for.”

  I let my fingertips drift up over her mouth, her cheekbone, past her eyes. Up over the top of her crown to cup the back of her head. Once again, Abbi humbled me. She’d been bullied, lied to, drugged . . . the list kept going. But she stood here and told me she was strong enough to step back if I didn’t want to commit.

  My hand tightened into a fist in her hair.

  “I—”

  She whispered something then, pressed a lingering kiss to my T-shirt. I stiffened, afraid of the words, the delivery of them. She slithered from my arms to move back up the pier. Away from me. She wouldn’t ask me again. I knew it. She’d just . . . leave.

  My heart slammed hard into my ribs. She waited at the gate, her slim back straight, her hair falling almost to her waist. Beautiful, yes, but more. Abbi was so much more than simply another pretty face.

  I released a breath.

  We were young. Plenty of time to see where this led, and anyway, she was moving in with me. We could keep it to something more than friends. We’d figure it out.

  Because Abbi not in my life . . . The closest analogy to the way it made me feel was when I’d thought Cassidy wasn’t going to make it.

  I strode toward her, desperate for our connection. I rubbed my thumb over her lower lip, and her breath bathed my finger in its warmth. I wanted nothing more than to sink into it, into her. To find that place where she didn’t question and I didn’t worry.

  I needed that place.

  “Come play with me, Abs!” Mason hollered. “I made that new level. I think you can build horses and stuff.”

  “Absolutely,” she called. She stepped out from my embrace, leaving me cold and lonelier than I could ever remember.

  28

  Abbi

  I’d thought making love with Clay would somehow magically solve my problems. I knew it was stupid, but I’d always believed in my mom’s romance novels. The act of actually making love—not just sex—was the elixir the characters needed to persevere.

  I was naïve.

  The fear in Clay’s eyes when I’d come close to mentioning the big “L” word shocked me. I’d seen his parents together and would have thought he wanted the same type of closeness. Once he explained his reasons, his anger toward his father wasn’t surprising. Clay was loyal.

  The relief I’d gotten through the day warred with the embarrassment of Clay’s reaction. Spending the afternoon with my family when they obviously wanted to ask me more questions made my head ache.

  “I’ll come over with my folks,” I suggested when Clay stated he needed to get to his rehearsal.

  His brow furled but he nodded. He pulled me into the deepening shadow on the front porch, his big hand cupping the back of my head. I sighed and relaxed into his large, warm body, my headache fading a little.

  “You’re really coming?” he asked.

  “Wouldn’t miss it. I’ll need to get a shirt and have you sign it.” I slid my hands over the tops of my breasts. “Here, so people know you’ve claimed me.”

  “You’re not mad at me?” he asked.

  Interesting. Clay was uncertain.

  “Why would I be mad?”

  “Because I didn’t handle our conversation well, down at the lake.” His fingers gripped my skull tighter, his other hand digging into the sensitive skin at my waist.

  “Ask me to stay with you tonight.”

  “What? No, I want to talk about how I screwed up earlier. I hurt your feelings, and that wasn’t what I meant to—”

  “Yes, Clay, I’d like to stay with you tonight. I’m thrilled to know I’m going home with you. That, of all the women there, you chose me. That we’ll sleep together and I’ll get to wake up with you in the morning.”

  “You don’t have to do that just to prove—”

  “But I’m not coming right now because there’re four more hours until you go on stage, and I’m scared to be alone in the bar, especially right now. Plus, I need to talk to my parents about how to proceed with the case. I want my family around me when I’m at that bar, so I don’t feel so exposed.”

  He leaned his forehead against mine. I was surprised to feel the small shudders working their way through his shoulders. “When we met at the library . . . I get it now,” he said. “I don’t want to be the reason you’re hurt, Abbi. I don’t know how to keep the reporters from taking your picture tonight, digging into your past. I don’t know how to keep them from writing about you, whatever half-truth bull shit they want.”

  “Someone really smart told me not to give a fuck what other people think.”

  Clay shook his head, his eyes still filled with sadness. We hadn’t had enough time together to be us, and there was so much working to pull us apart. Relief swept through me when he tightened his hold.

  I rose up on my tiptoes and kissed him. A slow, lingering kiss that carried the promise of more and flirted with the depth of my need for him. He grunted as he gathered me closer, tilting his head to take the kiss deeper. Here, he couldn’t lie to me any more than I’d try to lie to him.

  Maybe we should only communicate in kisses from now on. I opened my mouth wider so my tongue rubbed deeper against his.

  “Gross!” Jeremiah complained.

  “You, too?” Mason said with a long-suffering sigh. “I thought you were cool.”

  I broke away from Clay, laughter tumbling across my swollen lips.

  He leaned back in and kissed me again as though he wasn’t ready to let me go. “I’ll see you in a few hours. And Abbi?” he murmured against my skin.

  “What?” I asked, shivering with pleasure when his teeth closed over my earlobe.

  “I’m serious about wanting you to move in with me. I don’t want a night here and there.”

  Wow. He melted my heart with those words. I didn’t think moving in was a good idea—not yet. Not with the pictures hanging over my head—a guillotine waiting to slash through my self-worth.

  He turned and waved at the boys who’d moved to one of the large trees in the front yard. I sighed and watched him jingle his keys in his hand. At his SUV door, he turned back.

  “What song should I dedicate to you?”

  I smiled, some of my old mischief poking up. I’d missed this side of me—the playful side I hadn’t let out because I was afraid of what people would say.

  “Something that convinces me to agree to your proposal.”

  He winked. So I had to blow him a kiss. He chuckled as he slid into his car.

  “He’s good for you,” Mom said, coming up
behind me, sliding her hand over my shoulder. “I like him, you know. You have to be cold. I brought you a sweater.”

  “Thanks. For believing in me when I couldn’t believe in myself.”

  “Ah, honey. That’s what moms do.”

  I wrapped my arm around her waist. “Just the good ones.”

  “Briar said the pictures will help. I don’t understand her tracing voodoo, but she’s good. I gave them to her. I don’t want them here, at our house, with Mason. They’re really horrible.”

  “Yeah, they are. I was scared, not just that you’d see them, but that you’d believe them.” Tears pooled in my eyes.

  “I’ll never fully understood how isolated you had to feel. That’s the problem with emotions. They’re big and they’re personal. But I like seeing you more like my daughter again. I’ve missed you, sweetie.”

  “I’ve missed you, too. I slipped so far, you know? I’m still freaked out about the pictures leaking.” I swallowed, trying to work past the emotions balling in my throat.

  “Asher’s called his lawyers again and explained the new details. We should be able to work out a deal about the pictures staying private. I think that’s the biggest cost, potentially. The fact you’re unconscious is going to be in your favor.”

  Mom hugged me tighter. I wrapped my arm around her waist and held on.

  “Thank you for trusting us. Just so you know, everyone stepped up.”

  The tears didn’t come. I didn’t need the release, I guess. Or maybe Clay had helped heal the vicious tear I’d let Steve rip in my soul.

  “Thanks for coming tonight. Clay’s excited.”

  “I’d support that boy in just about anything he wants to do.” She turned and brushed my hair off my forehead. “He gave me back you.”

  29

  Clay

  “You’re late,” Kai grunted.

  “I’m also the reason Asher Smith, Simon Dorsey and Hayden Crewe are coming to our performance tonight.”

  “Seriously?” Dane asked, eyes bright.

  “Yep. Asher’s bringing Abbi later.”