Drop Beat (The Heartbeat Series Book 2)

by Ryleigh Sloan

  “As soon as you’re back home, call me so we can talk wedding plans, okay? We want you to cater our wedding.”

  Whoa, surely this doesn’t mean what I think it means. Please don’t let it mean what I think it means. “You mean make the cake?”

  “I mean the whole thing.” Blair grabs my hands and jumps up and down. When she sees my bandage, she stops. “Oh shit, your cut. Does it hurt?” I’d phoned Blair from the hospital to tell her what happened while they were stitching me up and trying to revive Keller.

  “Nah, you know I’m used to bumps and bruises by now. I’m so clumsy I’ve got no choice.” I laugh, and she joins in. “But back to the catering—are you high? There’s no way I’m catering a fancy-schmancy celeb wedding with a zillion famous people eating my food. I’m busting out in hives just thinking about it.” I scratch the side of my neck where I’m sure red angry welts have already started appearing.

  She reaches for my hand, preventing me from scratching a layer of skin off. “Please, Mads. We’re only having a hundred or so people, and we’ll get you as much help as you need. It would mean a lot to me if my maid of honor catered my wedding. Just think about it, okay?”

  “Wait, you want me to be your maid of honor?”

  Blair pulls me in for a quick hug, then steps back. “Of course. You’re like a sister to me. Who else would I ask?”

  I feel my eyes well up. “Yes, to the maid of honor even though you didn’t actually ask, and yes, I’ll do the catering. How can I say no?”

  “You can’t. You could never say no to me.” Blair winks and squeezes the hand she’s yet to let go of tighter. “Thank you.”

  Papaw comes over. “Madison, honey. We’re heading through.”

  I look to Blair’s family, who all look like they are fighting back tears.

  Blair pulls me in tight again. “Nick is totally the best brother.”

  I smile. I know what she’s doing. She thinks I don’t, but I do. I get nauseated on takeoff, and Blair does this thing: she starts an argument every time about which of the Jonas Brothers is the best in order to distract me. It doesn’t help the nausea, but Blair thinks it does, and I don’t have the heart to tell her I’m onto her.

  “Nope, not at all. There’s no doubt that Kevin doesn’t get nearly as much play as he should. Everyone is always after the frontman.”

  “Nick has it all, Mads.”

  Dean, who’s remained quiet till now, nods. “She’s not wrong. Nick does have it all. But you belong to me now,” he says, turning and looking at Blair pointedly.

  Blair raises an eyebrow. “Is that right?”

  “That ring says you do.” Dean takes her hand and kisses the ring.

  I snatch her hand from his. “Oh my God, you got the ring?”

  Blair beams at me as I inspect her engagement ring. It’s gorgeous. A triangular black diamond rests in the center of a thin band of alternating clear and black diamonds.

  “It’s breathtaking!”

  “Isn’t it?” Blair’s face lights up as she looks at Dean. “The triangular diamond reminds me of a guitar pick.”

  It’s a gorgeous touch and proof that Dean really gets Blair. It makes me incredibly happy that he pulled his head out of his ass and is doing right by her.

  Mrs. McKenzie comes over. “Honey, we have to go.” She sniffs and pulls Blair tight, and then the whole family does the same, hugging both Dean and Blair to them. A lump forms in my throat, and I push down the feeling that I refuse to allow free rein. Blair deserves her family, and I am so blessed they see me as one of their own.

  Still, sometimes I wish I had what Blair has. And the guilt of that hurts worse than the emptiness I feel right now.

  Eleven – Bad Practice

  Keller

  “What the fuck, Kel? Is your head here, or are you still stuck in Pussyville?” Josh repositions his guitar strap and grins. “I suppose I can’t blame you—I know I’d never come up for air if I got a taste of Maddie. Amiright?” He looks to all of us, raising his hand for someone to high-five his stupidity.

  I feel it—the anger I’ve worked to control boiling to the surface when Josh disrespects Maddie. But I can’t afford to lose my cool. When I do, it ends badly, and I will never let that happen again.

  I loosen my grip on my drumsticks and start tapping out a quiet riff on my drums. Not the one I’ve fucked up eight times in a row. Just a steady four, eight, six-count that takes me away from the moment.

  “For fuck’s sake, Josh. There’s such a thing as tact. Learn some.” Jeff shakes his head and lobs his guitar pick at Josh, nailing him in the eye.

  Josh drops his own pick and cups a hand over his eye. “Dick! You nearly maimed me.”

  “Stop being a pussy.”

  “Let’s take ten,” Kade suggests from behind his keyboard, and I use the opportunity to head onto the studio rooftop for some fresh air. I don’t miss the looks that pass between my bandmates. They’re probably just as confused by my mood as I am. I never bring my personal shit to work; it only leads to questions. Questions I’m not ready to answer.

  I’ve been with the band for eleven years, having joined six months after, Jeff, Josh, and Kade started LP-45 back in college. They were all freshmen while I was in my junior year, studying sports physiotherapy to satisfy my mother while I tried to make my dream of being a drummer work. During my audition we instantly meshed, and we’ve been more like brothers ever since. Which is why disappointing them is not an option.

  The minute I get onto the roof, I head over to the water wall next to the Japanese maple, and resting my hands on the wall, I stick my head under the flowing water, allowing the cool stream to run over my neck.

  I’m restless, the kind of restless that feels like I have something crawling under my skin and an itch in the pit of my stomach. It’s unrelenting. I straighten and scrub a hand over my head, the cool water droplets running down my face and dripping off my fingers. The fact that I’ve been feeling this way ever since I dropped Maddie off at the airport a couple of days ago hasn’t escaped me, and it’s the cause of my pissy mood.

  I thought for sure the rehearsal would be my usual escape. Time behind my drums is a failsafe, a momentary respite from my demons, but not this time. Maddie wormed her way into my thoughts so that when I sat in front of my drums, I could no longer slip into the meditative rhythm of the beat. She permeated my mind and created fissures that allowed reality to seep in.

  Maddie is everything that is good in the world. It took me all of ten minutes to figure that out, but three days with her only cemented my suspicions. She’s light, real, and free. She’s authentic to her core, living life to its fullest in the moment. When she was here, she shone light on my darkness so that even I forgot just how dark my past was, but the minute she left, she took her light with her. And now I’m stuck back in my past, locked in by the chains of my darkest secrets and biggest mistakes.

  I wonder what she’d think of me if she really knew who I was and what I was capable of. The answer is as suffocating as the muggy night air.

  Two raps sound on the door a second before it opens, and Kade steps out. His eyebrows raise when he sees me standing drenched in front of the water wall. He doesn’t say anything, just silently makes his way to the fridge next to the Asian-style seating area and grabs us some beers.

  He takes a seat on the double couch, tapping my bottle gently on the table in invitation. I cover my sigh and walk over to sit opposite him. It isn’t Kade’s fault I’m pissy.

  “Thanks.” I raise my bottle before twisting the cap off. Running it between my fingers over and over, I take a sip. Kade leans back and takes a pull of his beer.

  “Just not jelling for you in there?”

  I shake my head. “Not today.”

  “Something on your mind?”

  That’s a loaded question. There’s always something on my mind, and as much as I’ve wanted to dump core on my friends countless times over the last several years, I just can’t bring myself
to do it. I know I’m a fucking coward, but if I tell them what is weighing on me—what seems to be weighing on me even more since Maddie left—I’ll lose them all, and I can’t afford to do that.

  I realize I haven’t answered Kade. He’s patiently picking at the label of his bottle while he waits.

  “No, nothing on my mind.” The lie burns like acid on my tongue. I know Kade doesn’t buy it either, but he doesn’t call me on it.

  We sit in silence for a while until Kade throws his bottle top into one of the dozen potted ornamental bamboo plants set along the wall in stainless steel containers.

  “Jeff is going to fucking kill you for that,” I remark, taking another sip of my beer. Jeff designed the rooftop so we’d have a place to create that didn’t involve sitting on old crates. It looks like a place straight out of those garden magazines that lie around doctors’ offices with the perfect lighting versus plants at all the right intervals with the matching Asian-style patio furniture. I admit it’s a great space, but Jeff can be a bit pedantic when it comes to keeping it clean.

  Kade smirks. “Nah, he’ll blame Josh. I figure he has it coming for what he said about Maddie.”

  I lean forward and clink my bottle’s neck against Kade’s. “I owe you one.”

  Kade chuckles. “This one’s on me. Wanna call it a day or give it another shot?”

  Panic seizes me, but I force myself to take a casual pull of my beer. I can’t afford to call it a day. Not when I’m spiraling like I am.

  “Let’s give it another shot.”

  Kade stands and puts the chair back where he found it. “Sounds good.”

  I drain my beer, and the light-headedness that’s been threatening to pull me under all day hits me. I lie and tell myself it’s the alcohol.

  Get it together, Cannon.

  “Kade!” Kade turns around just as he reaches the door. “Give me a sec, will you?”

  “Sure, I’ll tell the guys you’ll be in in a minute.”

  “Thanks.”

  Pitching the bottle and cap into a nearby trashcan, I pull my phone out of my back pocket and search for Pawfectly Primped. Thank fuck I remembered the name of Maddie’s mother’s grooming salon because we didn’t exchange numbers. I split my screen and open the NetFlorist app to place an order.

  I’m gonna allow myself this, despite knowing it’s all wrong. That I’m only going to make things worse for myself.

  That Maddie deserves better than this.

  Twelve – Surprise

  Maddie

  I open the door to my mom’s grooming parlor, the scent of doggie shampoo greeting me as I dump my bag on the counter. Since I graduated from culinary school in December, I’ve been trying to figure out what to do with my life. I know without a doubt I want to bake; creating beautiful and tasty treats has always been a dream of mine. I love seeing people’s faces when I create one-of-a-kind cakes and cupcakes for them. It makes me happy. But in Springview, our small town in Nelspruit, there’s already a bakery and there isn’t enough demand for two, so I’m helping my mom out and saving money until I have a bit more direction.

  I make my way to the back of the shop to turn on the heat, then start opening the blinds. It’s hard to believe I was sweating buckets only days ago, and now I’m chilled to the bone. Despite being cold, this is the best part of the day for me. The moment when everyone else is still firmly tucked in their beds and I feel like I have the world to myself. I love winter mornings, when the sun has barely poked its head out and the streets are still immersed in the blue haze of predawn. I revel in the peace. There is nothing to grump or grouch about at the start of a new day. The hours ahead are full of promise, and there’s nothing better.

  I’m happier than usual today, even if I’m still jet-lagged. When my mom picked me up at the airport, she brought me a printout of Blair’s wedding invitation. I’m shocked Blair could get invites made up so quickly, but I guess things move faster in Celeb Land, and I couldn’t be happier for my best friend.

  I may also be selfishly excited about the possibility of seeing Keller again. We didn’t even exchange numbers when I left, which is exactly what I expected since our three-day tryst was a no-strings, all-in-for-fun deal—and angels have mercy, it was so much fun! So I have no expectations, but I’m guessing Dean would’ve invited him to the wedding, especially since the band was instrumental in the proposal, and I’m sure I can convince Keller to go another few rounds for “old times’ sake.”

  Blair’s wedding is taking place on Memorial Day, which is in six weeks’ time. I legit asked her if she was preggers and if that was what the rush was all about. It’s not, sadly—I would love to be an honorary aunty—but Blair teased that she is sure Dean just wanted to lock her down before he did something stupid again.

  I had a mini panic attack at how soon I’ll have to throw the catering together, but I’m confident that with the venue Blair has arranged, along with a staff to help me to make all the food, I’ll get it all done in time. Especially since I planned the menu on the flight and Blair loves it. But that means I’ll be back in the States before I know it, and I can’t wait.

  I turn the radio on and start singing to Billie Eilish’s “Bad Guy.” It makes me smile because it not only reminds me of Keller, but my terrible singing reminds me of my time in the studio and the flash drive I still have to let my mom listen to.

  I spend the next fifteen minutes filling all the shampoo bottles and getting the workstations ready. One look at the appointment book tells me it’s going to be a busy day. I also see that Mr. Rissick’s Pomeranian is scheduled for a style, and I’m going to have to make sure Mom is in for that. For a tiny dog that looks like a drowned rat when he’s wet, he sure has a nasty temper on him, and only Mom knows how to deal with him.

  The door chimes and Chelsea walks in, carrying her reindeer tote and two cups of coffee. I do not know what she stuffs in there, but the tote goes everywhere with her, and it makes me smile. Okay, I guess everything is going to make me smile today.

  “Morning, Mads.” She hands me a cup, and I could kiss her. “What’s the day like?”

  “Chockablock today.”

  She sets her cup on the counter and, pulling her hairband from her wrist, ties her multicolored braids into a bun. “I better get going, then.” She heads to the back.

  “I already set everything up,” I call.

  She stops. “Oh my God, you’re the best. I’m busy listening to Pretty Reckless, and I’m at such a good part. Mind if I finish the chapter? I’ve only got seven minutes to go.”

  “Be my guest. The first customer is due at seven, so you’ve got twenty minutes or so.”

  She flops down on the couch and pops her earbuds in. “Perfect.”

  No sooner has Chelsea gotten comfortable than the bell above the door chimes again. I look up from where I’m rearranging the files on my mom’s computer—I swear she wreaks havoc on this thing every time she touches it—to see a NetFlorist guy struggling with the biggest arrangement of flowers I’ve ever seen.

  I rush around from the back of the reception counter and help him place the arrangement on the table. It’s absolutely gorgeous with sunflowers, roses, and mini calla lilies, all in varying shades of yellow and orange. It looks like a sunset, and I don’t need the delivery guy to tell me they’re for me or who they’re from—I instantly know when I see the color.

  Chelsea comes over to me, pressing Pause on her audiobook and slipping her earphones out. “Holy hell, that’s a big bouquet.”

  “You Maddie?” the delivery guy asks.

  My stomach flips when I get the confirmation of what I already knew.

  “That’s me.”

  He whips out his device and hands me the plastic pen that comes with it. “Sign, please.”

  I ignore the questioning look Chelsea is giving me as I try not to let anyone see that my hands are shaking with excitement. Once the delivery guy has left, I pluck the card out of the flowers, moving back to the counter so I can ope
n it.

  I’m pretty damn sure Keller wouldn’t sign the card as “Keller Cannon, Orgasm Giver Extraordinaire,” but you never know. Besides, now that Blair is famous, I know just how important privacy is, and I don’t want to compromise his. I don’t know what it would mean for him if people knew he was sending me flowers.

  Boy, I’m mighty sure of myself. I’m going to be really disappointed if these aren’t from him.

  I pull the dinky card out of the envelope and nearly crack my face my smile is so wide when I see the message. Maybe I wasn’t ridiculous after all.

  These are to show you orange isn’t all that bad.

  And to thank you for the orgasms ;-)

  Keller.

  I don’t know whether to laugh or clutch the card to my chest and do a happy dance, but I see Chelsea grinning at me, her head cocked to the side, and I hold back my inner dweeb for now.

  “Spill it, girl. Who’s the new guy?”

  I gently set the plain orange card on the desk. “Who said there had to be a new guy?”

  “There’s only three reasons a guy sends a bouquet that big. Either he’s really missing you, he’s in love with you, or he done messed up bad. And by the smile on your face, I’m going to go with one of the first two. So out with it.”

  The bell chimes as Mrs. Cowen walks in with her labradoodle on a leash. Gizmo sees Chelsea and bounds forward, jumping up onto her, her giant paws resting on Chelsea’s shoulders as she licks furiously at her face, saving me from having to answer any more probing questions.

  “I’ve missed you too, Gizzy. Yes, I have.” Chelsea giggles and talks to Gizmo in a baby voice as Mrs. Cowen tries to wrestle the giant dog down.

  Eventually order is restored, and Mrs. Cowen promises to return in a couple of hours as Chelsea and Gizmo head off to the back. Over the next few hours, I don’t have time to reflect on what Chelsea says though because we’re busy with dogs, cats, and even a ferret coming in and out for grooming. I’m just about to make some tea, but I stop to open the card again and can’t help the thrill that runs through me.