Steady Beat

by Lexxie Couper

  Samuel stood over them both, the glare back on his face. “We need to talk.”

  “Oh God,” Pepper burst out, her face igniting with red heat as she scrambled off Noah. “I didn’t mean to—”

  He grabbed at her, halting her retreat. He didn’t want her going anywhere. He sure as hell didn’t want to talk with Samuel. “Fuck off, Strings. You can tell me you were wrong later.”

  Samuel snorted. “Two words, Holden. Fleetwood. Mac.”

  Noah let out a growl. He held onto Pepper tighter, even as she wriggled completely off his legs. Cool emptiness washed over him at her body’s absence. His chest ached. His cock…holy shit, his cock had never been harder. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Fleetwood Mac,” Pepper’s soft voice—so recently transporting them all to another level of sublime existence—sounded at his left. He swung his head to study her, glad to find her on her knees at his hip. She’d stayed close to him. He liked that.

  What he didn’t like was the torment pulling at her eyebrows. “Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham.”

  “Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham?” he echoed. Why did he have no clue what the hell was going on?

  Jax let out a wry snort. “I think what Strings is trying to say, Drummer Boy—in the most obscure way possible—is he’s worried about you and Pepper being in a sexual relationship.”

  Noah frowned at his fellow band members before returning his attention to Samuel. “So what you’re saying is Pepper and I can’t…get it on because of the supposed issues between Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham back in the seventies?”

  Pepper rose to her feet. “I’m just going to…” She pointed vaguely toward the exit, her cheeks pink. “For a bit.”

  Noah wanted to kiss away her blush. Before he finished climbing to his feet to stop her, she hurried away.

  Swinging back to Samuel, he glared at the lead guitarist. “What the fuck is your problem? You just heard her sing and you’re still giving her grief? Jesus, Sam, will you—”

  “Pepper has the most incredible voice I’ve ever heard,” Samuel cut him off, his expression serious. “I just don’t want to see what might be the most amazing thing to happen to us be messed up because you can’t keep it in your pants.”

  “Screw you, Gibson,” Noah snarled.

  “He’s got a point,” Levi commented.

  “Yeah, easy for you to say, Levistan,” Noah shot back. “You’re living your happy-ever-after. I’ve just found mine and now Strings is telling me I can’t—”

  “Just found it?” Samuel scowled. “You only just met her and you’re calling her your happy-ever-after?”

  “He was holding her hand forever,” Jax pointed out with a grin.

  Noah fixed Samuel with a flat stare. “I told you last night, she makes me feel calm. Focused.”

  Beside Noah, Levi let out a slow whistle. “Fuck, Noah. Really? Then ignore Sam. Seriously.” He turned to Samuel. “We all know what Noah’s head is like. We also know how fucked up Heather left him. That woman never made Noah feel anything but an agitated mess. If Pepper Kerrigan makes him feel centred, nothing else matters. Nothing.” He clapped a hand on Noah’s shoulder. “Go get her, mate, that’s what I say. And if you and she pull a Stevie Nicks slash Lindsey Buckingham, we can always find a new drummer, right?”

  The flippant joke—so rare from Levi—tore a laugh from Noah’s chest. His heart slammed hard. He didn’t know what he was more buzzed about—Levi vocalizing Noah’s attention issues with compassionate calm, Pepper blowing them all away with her singing, or that he was about to show her just how fucking amazing she was with his lips, tongue, hands and anything else on his body he could.

  Turning to Samuel, he studied his best friend. “You gotta give me your blessing, mate. I need to know you’re not going to make life hell.”

  Samuel huffed out a ragged sigh. “Go for it.” He held up a finger when Noah began to smile. “But if she breaks your heart, I don’t care how good she is at singing, nor how many Grammys we win because of her. She’s gone. Understand?”

  “Watch it, Strings,” Jax muttered, tossing Noah a smirk over the scowling guitarist’s shoulder. “Your caring side is showing.”

  The corners of Samuel’s mouth twitched. “Shut it, Liberace.” He gave Noah a steady look. “I’m happy for you, Noah,” he said, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “I’m just…”

  Noah chuckled. “Cautious. I get it. Wouldn’t want you any other way. Now can we tell Pepper she was amazing so I can bloody well get on with kissing her again?”

  Samuel let out a dry snort. “Yeah.” Looking behind Noah, he shouted, “Oi, Ms. Kerrigan? Can you come back in here please?”

  As Pepper’s footfalls filled the silence, Samuel nodded at Noah. “She’s all yours, Holden,” he murmured. “C’mon guys.”

  Noah turned to watch Pepper walk toward him. She cast Samuel, Jax and Levi a curious smile as they walked past her, heading in the opposite direction. She even ducked her head and brushed her hair over her ear as Jax told her she had the sexiest voice he’d ever heard.

  Noah couldn’t tear his gaze from her.

  Couldn’t wait until she was in his arms again.

  She drew closer and stopped but a foot away.

  It wasn’t until a loud bang echoed around the cavernous room he forced his stare from her face.

  “I think they’ve gone,” she said, her breath uneven, choppy.

  He grinned. “Good. Now I can finally do this.” He closed the distance between them, reaching for her.

  And frowned when she scampered back a step, shaking her head.

  “No,” she said, her gaze holding his. “I can’t. Samuel’s right. Whatever this thing is between us, it needs to slow down.”

  Noah’s chest squeezed tight. “Why?”

  A soft hiccup of a laugh fell from her. “Three reasons. One, I don’t know if I can handle women throwing themselves at you all the time. Two, as far as I know you’re still in a relationship with the swimsuit model.”

  The pressure on Noah’s chest grew heavier. A prickling heat crawled over his scalp. “I’m too old for groupies, babe. I’m not interested in the crap that comes with them. And Heather left me three months ago. Took our dog and went off with our dog walker. Told me she’d had a gutful of my…inability to stay focused on anything but music.”

  Pepper chewed on her bottom lip, her palms cupping her elbows. “Okay.”

  He smiled, not sure what okay meant. “So this thing between us doesn’t have to worry about groupies or Heather because she’s gone.”

  “So I’m your rebound girl?”

  Noah paused. Was she? He’d never had one of those before. Didn’t know what a rebound girl felt like. When Heather had left him he’d thought his heart had been torn out. The trouble was his heart was beating pretty bloody fast for Pepper now. Would it do that if she was just a rebound fling? He didn’t know. He also didn’t know if he wanted to put himself and his frenzied heart out there so soon after Heather’s betrayal, but every time he looked at Pepper he felt at peace. He’d never felt that way with Heather. Nor had he ever wanted her the way he wanted Pepper. Was it just a sexual thing? He didn’t know that either, but something in his gut told him it wasn’t. And he had no bloody clue if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

  “I’m assuming by your silence that I am?” The disappointment in Pepper’s voice punched at Noah’s chest.

  He shook his head. “No. You’re not. I’m not sure what you are, but you’re not my rebound girl. Now, reason three?”

  Pepper let out a choppy breath, her gaze darting around the space behind him. Was she looking for reason number three up there? Or digesting what he’d just told her?

  He hadn’t thought about Heather since he’d kissed Pepper in the bar. There was a significance to that he’d ponder later. Maybe. Now, he just wanted to know why Pepper was putting up barriers.

  She returned his attention to his face, torment flickering in
her brilliant blue eyes. “I don’t want to be the groupie that sings.”

  Noah frowned. “The what?”

  She sighed again, not looking at him. “I don’t want to join the band as your lover. If I work out—and you and the other guys haven’t had a conversation about that at all, so it’s still a really big if—maybe you and I could…” Her cheeks grew pink and she shook her head. “No. If I’m in the band, I’m in it as just a singer. Nothing else. It has to be that way. It’s better that way.”

  “Better that way? For who? Bloody hell, I could almost come right now just looking at you, and you’re telling me we’re not allowed to even touch? Bullshit on that.” Noah dragged his hands through his hair. “And did you hear the way the guys reacted to your voice? Holy crap, babe, none of us have heard a voice like yours. I can’t wait to perform with you. To hear your voice with our music. I—”

  “Need to think about what’s best for the band,” she cut him off.

  “Screw the band. I want to make love to you, Pepper. Now. And if the band is getting in the road of that happening, they can find another drummer.”

  “So I can be labeled the new Yoko Ono?” A tormented frown pulled at Pepper’s eyebrows. “Don’t be silly. You’ve known me for less than twenty-four hours.”

  “So?”

  “You need to be rational.”

  Noah scowled, hating the connotation behind the word. Like what he was feeling for her wasn’t real. “I need to be inside you. Don’t deny that’s what you want either.”

  Pepper let out a wobbly sigh. “I do want it. I can’t believe I’m saying it aloud, but I do. But I can’t…not yet…maybe one day…”

  Noah leapt on the vague timeframe. “When?”

  She chewed on her bottom lip. “Oh God, this was easier when all I wanted to do was be the band’s singer. Now I want…”

  Noah’s chest tightened. “Me?”

  She closed her eyes and tucked her hair behind her ear.

  “You can have me. All of me. Right here, right now.”

  Pepper opened her eyes and looked at him. “Damn it, why couldn’t I have met you differently?” A dry snort escaped her and she shook her head. “How ironic is that?” she muttered, sliding her glare around the room. “I was the one that instigated the meeting and now I’m complaining about it? Argh!”

  Noah stepped toward her. “Pepper, please let me—”

  She took a step back, confusion pulling at her forehead. “You have no idea how hard it was for me doing this today, singing.” She laughed. Noah’s stomach knotted at the mirthless, self-deprecating sound. “I’ve been trying to tell you I’m chronically shy. Cripplingly so. To actually come here today and sing in front of you all was a monumental achievement for me. You made that possible by being you, by being so wonderful and funny and warm and friendly and goddamn it, I want to sleep with you more than I should admit, but I need to know I can be a part of this band on my own, not as the woman you just so happen to be sleeping with.” She caught her bottom lip with her teeth again, her eyebrows knitting. “Does that make sense? If you let me do that, if you can understand that, then I promise I will be the most amazing replacement for Nick Blackthorne imaginable.”

  Noah raked his hands through his hair, his stare dropping to the space between his feet. He gripped the back of his head, scrunching his face up. Deep in his chest, his soul, the thrumming of his body awakened by Pepper, beat faster. He didn’t just want to have sex with her, although that sure as shit was a part of it. He wanted to be with her. Discover everything about her. How could he do that if she held him at arm’s length?

  Raising his attention to her again, he let out a short breath. “I get it,” he said. And he did. She didn’t believe in her worth, and wondered at her right to be here with the band. He had to give her—and Samuel, Jax and Levi—the chance to see she did have that right. “No sex. Not for a few months.” He held up his hand when she began to protest. “I’m not saying no sex ever because that is bullshit, however, I will agree to no sex for a few months. But will you at least let me kiss you? One last time?”

  She didn’t answer. Not for a long moment. And then, her cheeks filling with a delicate pink tinge, she nodded.

  Noah didn’t hesitate. He stepped closer to her, cupped her face in his palms, and brushed his lips over hers.

  Chapter Five

  “How long has it been now?”

  Pepper looked up from the sheet music spread out on the bed in front of her to scowl at Frank where he hovered in the doorway. “Two weeks. I wish you’d stop asking. You’re making me nervous.”

  Frank pulled a mock pout. “Who else is going to keep you on track if not me?”

  Pepper snorted. “I’m on track. Do you see the music?”

  With a dramatic huff, her roommate crossed to the bed and flopped onto it face first, sending the sheets of paper flying. “Frank!”

  Frank twisted onto his back, threaded his fingers behind his head and grinned at her. “Two weeks and how many times has he called?”

  Pepper rolled her eyes. “Every day. Now go away. I’m trying to figure out what key to sing ‘Gotta Run’ in.”

  The day after she’d sung in the converted brownstone in SoHo, Noah had called to say the band was flying out of New York. Each had other commitments to deal with but they would be back ASAP. Pepper had done her best to ignore the pained disappointment in her heart at not seeing him, even as she’d reminded herself that was for the best. Still, she hadn’t expected him to call her as often as he had. She also hadn’t expected to like it as much as she did. He was making her decision to keep their relationship platonic difficult to stick to, that was for certain.

  “Every day,” Frank went on as if she hadn’t ordered him out of her room. “Noah Holden has called you every day, no matter where he is in the world, just to talk to you.”

  “Yes.” Pepper nodded, trying in vain to snare the first page of Nick Blackthorne’s raw song of lust and regret from under Frank’s butt. “Just to talk to me.” She tried to suppress the tingle of excitement at that fact but had little success. Fourteen days of talking to Noah about everything and anything was hard to be indifferent about. Especially when they had so much in common.

  It didn’t help that she was beginning to wonder if the whole singing for the band thing had really been singing for Noah. Now he’d heard her sing she was wondering if she really did want to sing for anyone else. If she wasn’t a part of the band, she could be with Noah in every way he wanted. Every way she wanted.

  But then was that just her trying to justify wimping out? Again.

  Frank wriggled on the bed. “Remind me again where he rang from last night?”

  “Toronto. Where he was attending his brother’s wedding. Now will you go away?”

  “So he rang you from his brother’s wedding to tell you what?”

  Pepper shoved Frank onto his side and plucked the page she needed from the bed. “To ask what I thought about the announcement of the director of the new Star Wars film.”

  “Ahh, important stuff.” Frank nodded with solemn seriousness. “And did he happen to mention when you would be singing with the band?”

  Pepper swallowed. Why was she beginning to question if she wanted to do just that?

  “When they’re all back in New York,” she answered. “Samuel’s got commitments with the Boss’s tour, Jax is having meetings with the film studio in L.A. and Levi is…” She paused, frowning. Actually, she didn’t know what Levi was doing. She tried to think of what Noah had said last time he mentioned the bass player. He was having trouble finding someone. Pepper still didn’t feel confident enough to ask him for more details. “Doing stuff,” she answered, giving Frank a pointed expression.

  “So when they’re all back in New York you’re singing with them? The next stage of the audition continues, yes?”

  She nodded.

  “Until then, you talk to him every night?”

  She nodded again. “Yes.”

&
nbsp; “And you’re not running out of things to say to each other?”

  Pepper frowned at her roommate. “No.”

  In fact, the opposite was true. With every conversation they shared on the phone, she was discovering she and Noah had more and more in common.

  For one, Noah was a Star Wars geek. In Pepper’s opinion there were no greater films. Well, the original trilogy, not the woeful prequels. For another, they both loved Stephen King books, hot dogs from Crif Dogs on Saint Marks Place and wildlife documentaries. A week ago, Noah had her in stitches with his recount of meeting the famous wildlife cinematographer, Sir Addison Lancaster, at Nick Blackthorne’s wedding. He’d described for her, in minute detail, his abject terror at discovering his fly was down as the British knight was introduced to him. “I don’t wear underpants, babe,” Noah had pointed out, his grin clear in his voice even through the telephone connection. “And my jeans were a tad snug. Suffice to say, Sir Lancaster wondered aloud what kind of hairy animal I was keeping down there.”

  They’d also spent hours talking music. His knowledge of all genres amazed her. Classical, country, folk, indie-pop, he seemed to know something about them all. He jumped from composer to arrangement to recordings, rarely staying on one subject for long before his mind took him to another. It was like having a conversation with a tornado blown in from a musical database, and Pepper loved it. His enthusiasm for everything was infectious, and it hadn’t taken her long to grow addicted to it.

  The only time they’d disagreed was when his ex-girlfriend declared in an interview with US Weekly magazine that she still loved Noah very much and had no clue he was having an affair behind her back. Pepper was mortified. Noah just laughed. “Heather’s just trying to get attention,” he’d told her. “If she doesn’t stop soon I suspect my agent will release images of her making out with our dog walker. I know he’s got some nice ones captured around Christmas. It’ll put Heather firmly in her place. He never really liked her. Neither did the guys, come to think of it.”

  Pepper’s heart had ached at the accepting censure in Noah’s voice as he spoke of his ex. There was no doubt he blamed himself for the failing of their relationship. She could hear it in every syllable. When it came to placing blame on oneself for failure, Pepper was an expert.