Fractured Trust by L. M. Dalgleish
Chapter 7
The beep of Noah’s phone roused him. He was sprawled out on his hotel bed with the covers off, the coolness of the air against his skin letting him know he was naked.
He peeled one eye open, double-checking he was on his own. Yep, his bed was empty, thank fuck. There’d been a few times on previous tours where he’d drunk too much and woken up in the morning with a woman still lying next to him. Then there was that awkward moment where you had to usher them out the door in the cold light of day, feeling bad when they wanted to exchange numbers or arrange to meet up again. Much better to give them what they wanted the night before, then send them happily on their way without letting any expectations build up.
Similar to the first Crossfire tour, eight months ago, this one was a mini-tour—just four weeks—so there were only a few hotel stays along the way. Most nights they slept on the bus. But unlike previous tours, he’d yet to bring any women back to his room on the odd occasion when they’d stayed overnight in one city. He couldn’t even explain why, just that no one seemed to have caught his eye so far.
His message notification sounded again, and he groaned, reaching for his phone and checking the time. Nine a.m. Not as ridiculously early as his body was trying to convince him it was. But the after party last night had run late, and then Devon and Beau had wanted to check out the nightlife in Austin, so he and Zac had joined them. Noah vaguely remembered leaving the others at one of the clubs on Sixth Street and taking a car back to the hotel, then stumbling into his room, stripping, and flinging himself on the bed. He thought it must have been about three a.m.
He swiped the screen, then blinked a couple of times to bring the message into focus. It was from Eden, and Noah’s mind cleared as his eyes picked out Summer’s name from the jumble of words. He sat up and leaned back against the headboard, then re-read the message.
Eden: Hey Noah, I wanted to let you know you were right about Summer, she’s been great. Thanks for sending her to me. I hope your tour is going well! xox
A smile flickered on his lips. He was glad to hear things were working out with Summer. Not that he’d had much doubt that she’d do a good job—or that she and Eden would get along—but there was no denying the situation had the potential to be too awkward to work.
When he’d first suggested the idea to Eden, she’d been reluctant, and he knew why. For the two years he and Summer had been dating, she’d been a big part of his little sister’s life.
Until suddenly, she wasn’t.
He’d told Eden the basics of what had happened between him and Summer. But he hadn’t gone into detail about exactly how messed up he’d been in the weeks and months afterward—how close he’d come to losing Fractured on top of having his heart broken. How, if he hadn’t come to his senses after their manager at the time threatened to cut him from the band, he might be in a very different place right now. He figured it was better for everyone if she didn’t know.
He tapped out a response.
Noah: I’m glad it’s working out, short stuff. The tour is going well. In Austin at the moment. Took Beau and Devon out last night. I’m getting too old for this shit.
The reply came back straight away.
Eden: That’ll teach you to try to keep up with the young’uns at your age.
Noah grinned. Eden was eight years younger than him. But their age difference had never been an issue. The two of them had been close almost since the moment his mom and dad had brought her home from the hospital—a little later than normal, since she’d been born early and with a hole in her heart. The hole had eventually resolved on its own, but that had been why their parents had been just a little overprotective of her growing up. That, and how difficult it had been for them to get pregnant with her in the first place.
And yeah, Eden might have occasionally accused him of being too overprotective as well. But as far as he was concerned, he was only fulfilling his role as her big brother.
Which of course meant that she took seriously her role as his little sister and teased him relentlessly about anything and everything, including his age.
Noah placed his phone back down on the nightstand, his smile fading as his mind drifted to Eden’s first message—to Summer. To what she might be doing, where she was living, whether she was enjoying L.A. His eyes slid toward his phone, resting on it for a beat before cutting away. As much as part of him—a part he kept forcing back down—itched to find out more about how she was doing, he restrained himself. He’d done his bit. Best for both of them if he just left it alone now.
With a muffled groan, Noah dragged himself out of bed, made his way to the bathroom, and climbed into the shower. Standing under the warm water, he let it sluice away the smell of alcohol and perfume that always seemed to stick to his skin after a night out, courtesy of the women that pressed themselves against him for photos, or in the hopes he would take them back to his room for the night.
After drying himself off and dressing, Noah sent a message to the others. He got one back from Zac saying he was down in the hotel restaurant having breakfast. Neither Beau nor Devon replied, so he figured they were still sleeping it off. He grabbed a cap and pulled it low over his forehead, then left the suite.
Entering the restaurant, Noah scanned the area until he found Zac on his own at the back of the room. He made his way over there, nodding at their security detail sitting a few tables away.
Zac looked tired too. They were both almost thirty and had been doing this shit for over a decade now. Beau and Devon were still in their early twenties, hence Eden’s comment. Those two had a good few years left before they’d start to feel it the way he was these days.
After sliding into the booth opposite Zac, Noah grabbed a glass and poured himself an orange juice from the carafe sitting in the middle of the table. “Remind me not to try to keep up with those two anymore,” he said after he’d taken a few long swallows.
Zac snorted. “You held your own.” He quirked an eyebrow. “What happened with that little blonde who was all over you at that last place? When you disappeared, I thought you’d taken her with you until I saw her sitting on Devon’s lap.”
Noah shifted in his seat. “Just wasn’t feeling it last night.” His lips curved up. “And you know, I thought it was only fair I give the other two a shot. I mean, they’re not drummers, so they need all the help they can get.”
Zac laughed, then leaned back and crossed his arms, a smile still on his face as he eyed Noah. “So have you heard anything about how things are going with Summer?”
Fucking intuitive asshole.“Heard from Eden this morning, actually. Sounds like it’s working out.”
“That’s good. I was—”
They were interrupted by the arrival of Zac’s breakfast. A waitress sidled up to the table, holding a plate piled high with eggs, bacon, and toast. She was pretty, but wide-eyed with nerves and excitement to be serving them, bobbling the plate when she placed it down in front of Zac. She blushed bright red when he thanked her. Turning big brown eyes on Noah, she asked, “Can I get you anything, sir?”
Noah gestured at Zac’s plate. “I’ll have the same as him, thanks.”
She nodded, still blushing, and rushed away to get his order.
Noah took another sip of his juice, hoping Zac would drop the subject of Summer after the distraction of his food arriving. But before he could think of something else to talk about, Zac launched straight back into it.
“Do you think you’re going to see her much?”
Noah arched his brows and looked after the retreating waitress. “Probably only when she drops my breakfast off. Unless she’s up for a little fun afterward, that is.”
Zac smirked. “Don’t play dumb. You know who I’m talking about.”
Noah shrugged, absently tapping out a beat on the table with his fingers. “I doubt it. I’m not exactly planning on calling her up and inviting her over to the house for dinner. As far as I’m concerned, she’s just my sister’s co-worker, that’s it.”
Zac stared at him for a second, then threw back his head and laughed. The corners of Noah’s mouth twitched up at the bass player’s obvious amusement. “What’s so funny, jackass?”
Zac took his time before answering, his smile lingering as he shook his head. “I honestly can’t tell if you’re being serious or not.”
“Why wouldn’t I be serious?”
“Because a lot of shit’s come out of your mouth over the last fifteen years, Noah, but trying to tell me that the woman you loved, the woman that broke your heart, the woman that you chased down and offered a job to, is just your sister’s co-worker, has to take the cake.”
Noah shrugged, keeping his tone light. “Okay, maybe she won’t be just my sister’s co-worker. But we’re not exactly ever going to be friends, so what’s the difference?”
Zac’s eyes dropped to where his fingers were now tapping out a rapid beat against the linen tablecloth, and Noah forced his hand still.
Sometimes he hated that damn tell. The one that was partly a result of him being a drummer, and partly a result of his natural restlessness. He’d always had a lot of energy; always had to be moving. That had been the main reason his mom and dad had bought him a drum kit to start with. It had been the perfect way for him to burn off all that excess energy. His parents had soundproofed their basement, set up his kit, and let him loose. And when he’d sat down behind that first set of skins, bashing away at it with too much enthusiasm and not enough skill for hours at a time, all that restlessness, any worries, or fears he was dealing with, had bled away until the only thing left was the beat rolling through him. It’d been everything he needed.
Until Summer.
Because she’d brought him something else as well… stillness. When he was lying next to her, his arms wrapped around her, breathing in her sweet scent, he felt… calm, peaceful. No urge to move or do or even drum. Just be there in the moment. With her.
But he hadn’t had that for a long time, and he’d learned to live without it, just like he’d lived without it before she’d come into his life.
Zac’s voice pulled him back from his thoughts. “The difference is you know she’s there,” he was saying. “There’s no putting her out of your mind now. Eden will talk about her, they’ll probably become friends, so she’ll want to invite her places. Are you prepared for that? Are you prepared to start having to see her regularly?”
Noah groaned. “Fuck man, it’s too early for the third degree. At least let me get some food in my stomach.”
With impeccable timing, the waitress was back, cheeks still pink as she placed the heaping plate down in front of him. “Thanks, sweetheart,” he said and smiled to himself as the pink darkened several shades.
Instead of walking away, she dithered for a few seconds and Noah shot an amused glance Zac’s way. Zac leaned back in his seat, his lips curving up as he watched her open and close her mouth a few times before taking pity on her. “Would you like an autograph before you go?”
She let out a breath and nodded. “I’m sorry, it’s just, I’ve never met anyone famous before. And Fractured is my all-time favorite band.”
She jumped when a deep voice came from behind her. “Well, that hurts.”
Beau and Devon had walked up behind her while she’d been distracted, and she seemed even more stunned to see the Crossfire guitar and bass player smiling down at her, all disheveled dark hair and sparkling blue eyes—even if they were a touch red-rimmed.
“Sit your asses down, and stop trying to steal our fans,” Noah mock grumbled. “You heard her, we’re her favorites.” The two men slid into the booth next to him and Zac, and Noah turned back to see the waitress looking around the table with awestruck eyes. “Do you have anything to write on?” he asked her gently.
She held up her pen and notepad for taking orders and smiled shyly as she handed them to him.
“Who should we make it out to?”
“Beth.”
She looked like what you’d expect a Beth to look like, all sweet and innocent. She was young, but not too young, probably early twenties. He could see by the sparkle in Devon and Beau’s eyes that they were having fun, making her blush prettily while they joked with her about preferring him and Zac to them. But of course, with them sitting there smiling at her with those charming grins, she asked them to sign her notepad too. He was sure if she gave the slightest indication she was up for anything more than innocent flirting, one of them would be more than happy to fulfill her rock star fantasies.
After thanking them for the autographs, she took Devon and Beau’s order, and with one more smile over her shoulder, left them alone. Watching her walk away, Noah tried not to think too hard about why he didn’t have the same urge to mess with shy, pretty Beth.
A flash of rose-gold hair. Green eyes looking up at him through long lashes, a too-long beat of his heart before his voice started working. “You’re Summer, right?”
Hard on the heels of that memory came a far more painful one.
“How could you do it? I thought you loved me!” Then the broken whisper, “We’re done, Noah. We’re over.”
Familiar tension knotted Noah’s back. Even now, he hated remembering that damn message. He hated remembering that he’d lost Summer and not even realized it until the next day.
In the hazy, drunken months that followed, he’d often beaten himself up about letting her call go to voicemail while he sat in that damn post-concert debrief. He’d dwelled far too much on why he’d allowed himself to get distracted by the PR shit their manager had lined up for them afterward.
Maybe if he’d kept up with calling her every night before bed the way he’d intended, things might have turned out differently. He’d started the tour out that way—wanting her to know he was always thinking about her. But the further into it they’d gotten, the more the long days on the road and the endless PR events they were expected to attend took their toll. Meaning, the more often he’d crash into bed, too late or too exhausted to call.
He should have known her anxiety would be skyrocketing. Should have realized she was being pushed to her limit. His only excuse was that he’d been young and dumb and riding on top of the world. And apparently far too confident in her love for him. Because regardless of how he might have screwed up—regardless of how he might have let his priorities slide—he never, never would have believed she’d end up doing what she had.
“Man, take a break from the drumming. Don’t you get enough of that every night?” Devon’s voice broke into his thoughts. Noah looked down. Without even noticing, he’d picked up his knife and fork and was tapping out a staccato beat on the table while getting lost in his memories.
He wrestled his trademark easy-going grin into place. “You don’t get as good as I am at using my hands without constant practice. I mean, that’s why women prefer drummers, right?”
Devon snickered. “I guess you’ve been doing a lot of solo practice this tour. Not that I mind. That blonde you knocked back last night ended up being a real good time. She might have missed out on your drummer’s hands, but she seemed to appreciate how fast a guitarist can move his fingers.”
Noah shrugged, relaxing into the banter, his smile becoming more genuine. “I’m sure she did. She probably needed something to make her feel better after not getting to experience how well a drummer can bang.”
“You got it wrong, man, she was loving how well I handle my axe.”
Beau snorted and rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, she might have appreciated it for the five minutes you handled it. But you know guitarists don’t have the same stamina as drummers. I can keep pounding all night long.”
Devon opened his mouth for another comeback, but Noah dropped his voice, made it low and husky as he continued. “And after I’ve kept it up for hours, that’s when I find that perfect tempo. The one where you feel my beat throbbing like a pulse, deep inside you. That’s when I build it higher and higher, taking you with me as I hit it harder and harder and harder. Until the tension is strung so tight that you just. Can’t. Take. It anymore. That’s when,”—he smacked his hands down on the table, making the other three jump—“you hit that climax.” He grinned, seeing the faces staring back at him with wide eyes. “And then, just when the sweat is starting to dry on your skin. Just when your pulse is finally starting to slow back down. The beat starts right… back… up again.”
Devon cleared his throat. “You’re right. She would have had a better time with you.”
Beau chimed in. “Hell, man, I think I just came in my pants.”
All four of them laughed, and Noah relaxed back against the seat. Things were good. He was wasting his time thinking about Summer. There was nothing between them anymore.
Nothing.
She’d made sure of that.