Rock Redemption by Nalini Singh
"You hungry?" he asked as they reached the marquee set up to one side of the "behind-the-scenes" part of the festival grounds. The scent of hot cheese and all the other good stuff that equaled pizza made his stomach rumble.
"I actually am--I danced the entire concert."
Seeing Thea tug David into a kiss not far from the marquee, Noah wolf-whistled. David grinned and didn't stop the kiss, one hand cupping the back of Thea's head, the other on her ass. She wasn't in one of her professional outfits but in a tiny sparkling dress that left her long legs bare from high up on her thighs, her straight black hair out of its usual twist.
No question that Thea was hot, but all Noah saw when he looked at her was a highly competent publicist who could chew up and spit out most of the paparazzi before she had her first cup of coffee in the morning.
"I'm happy for them," Kit whispered as they neared the marquee. "They fit."
"Yeah, they do." Noah nodded at Abe as the keyboard player appeared from the other side of the tent. "There was a good chance David would've ended up a sad, lonely old man if she hadn't taken pity on him."
Close enough to hear, Abe snorted. "I need a hella sexy woman to take that kind of pity on me," he muttered. "I think David's the one laughing now."
"I don't know who's more smitten, David or Thea."
Noah heard a tone in Kit's voice that he'd never expected--mingled want and envy. The latter wasn't sharp, hard. It was soft, poignant, and it made him want to give her things, make her happy. "You know he sent her a pink teddy bear when we were on tour?"
Kit's smile was huge. "Really? How do you know?" Utter delight in her tone.
"I caught him walking back into the hotel with it tucked under his arm," Noah said, wondering if Kit would like that kind of a gift. He'd never have thought so before this conversation--she was so put together, so stylish.
Except now she sighed and hugged herself. "That is ridiculously adorable and romantic."
Abe had wandered off toward the table where piping hot pizzas were being set out, cooked courtesy of some kind of a portable oven, but Noah turned to Kit. "You don't have teddy bears in your house." He paused. "Do you?"
"No, but no one's ever given me one."
Noah had had a fucked-up childhood, but he remembered a teddy bear that his nanny, Josefina, had given him before he was packed off to boarding school.
"To keep you safe," she'd said in the Spanish she'd taught him, her eyes wet and dark. "He will be your friend."
Josefina never knew that the bear didn't make it to boarding school. Noah's father had taken one look at it as Noah climbed into the car that was taking him to the school and pulled it out of his hands. No son of his, he'd said, was going to go to school clutching "an infantile toy."
Noah had tried to hold on to the only piece of certainty he had, that soft brown bear representing love and safety, but he'd been a small boy against a much bigger man. His father had thrown the bear onto the driveway, then told the driver to go. The bear had been crushed under the wheels of the glossy black Rolls-Royce.
Shaking off the memory and wondering what Josefina would make of him now, he glanced at Kit. "I thought your parents did the 'throw money and toys at the child' kind of parenting?"
Kit bit down on the plump softness of her lower lip. "I didn't mean I didn't have soft toys. I did... but no one ever picked one out for me especially--Mom or Dad wrote the check on my birthday or Christmas, and the store employees came in and set up the toy display." She shook her head, mouth twisting up at one corner. "I sound so spoiled."
"No, I get it." His nanny's inexpensive gift had meant more to Noah than anything his parents had given him after it all came out. Josefina had still cared about Noah even though he wasn't perfect anymore, and that had made all the difference.
"You two gonna eat?" Having navigated his way back to them, Abe held out a plate with a whole giant pizza.
"Oh, that looks like heaven." Kit took a slice, managed three bites in the time it took Noah to wolf down a whole piece.
Seeing a table clear up, he grabbed it for them and the three of them took a seat, the plate of pizza in the middle and fresh bottles of beer and water dropped off by one of the catering staff. Nudging aside the beer without a word, Abe stuck to water, and Noah and Kit kept him company.
Noah knew Kit'd had a lot of trouble with Abe's drug issues, but she'd never not been supportive when Abe tried to stay sober. She'd been partially responsible for convincing him to enter rehab the second time, but Abe hadn't been ready, had relapsed. This time though, there was a sense of intense resolve about the other man.
"Fuck, this is good," Abe groaned, picking up another slice.
Noah nodded as around them, the marquee pulsed with the voices of musicians and crew, the throb of music from the closest stage pumping through the earth.
"Hey, Abe!"
Rising at the call from Genevieve's husband, Abe finished off his slice and went over to catch up with the bass player and her artist spouse.
"Perfect timing." Fox put a plate full of miniature desserts on the table and, swinging around Abe's chair, sat with one of his arms on the back while he used the other to pick up a chocolate tart.
Noah took a piece of cake while Kit decided on a cookie.
"Where's Molly?" Noah asked his bandmate.
Fox was very protective of his fiancee--she was getting more used to the limelight, but she still wasn't as comfortable in it as they were, probably never would be.
"With Maxwell's Kim." The lead singer used his thumb to point behind him to the left. "They're talking about an old archaeological site Molly's researching for one of her work contracts."
Still hungry, Noah got up. "You want more pizza?" he asked Kit and Fox both.
When they shook their heads, he went to grab a couple more slices. It was on the way back that a woman put a hand on his forearm. Her fingernails were hot pink and tapered, her hand slender. When he looked up, he didn't recognize the face, but he recognized the look. The petite blonde was giving him an invitation bright and clear.
"Hi," she said, twisting a lock of her hair around her finger. "You want to party?"
"No."
Kit's gaze met his as he closed the distance to their table. There was a pinched look to her eyes that didn't fit her, wasn't her. As he watched, it smoothed out, her expression settling once more into that of Kathleen Devigny, the A-list actress dating a rock star, not Kit, the woman who was friends with Noah.
Chapter 22
Kit had never been so glad to get away from a crowd. The strain of pretending had turned into a throbbing pulse in her left temple, her skin stretched thin and tight over her bones. But the flip side was that she was now alone with Noah in a very small space.
"I think I'll go to bed," she said as soon as Noah pulled the door shut. "Been a long day."
"I'll just grab the airbed and the sleeping bag."
She went into the tiny bathroom to clean off her makeup so they wouldn't be in the bedroom together, and when she came out, it was to see Noah in the living area pumping up the airbed. He was down on one knee, his T-shirt stretched over his back and his hair falling over his forehead.
"Good night," she said, her heart bruise growing darker at the sight of this man who could've been hers forever. Only of course that wasn't true. Noah had never given himself to her, never asked her to be his.
I don't want to push you away, but there's stuff inside me that just screws me up sometimes.
Yet other women put their hands on him without concern. He allowed it, would do so again as soon as this charade was over. Kit had tried so hard to understand, to move past the way he'd flinched from her, but she wasn't superhuman. Rejection hurt. And watching another woman so casually touch him? It eviscerated.
He looked up, storm-gray eyes holding her own, all those words forever unspoken between them. "Good night, Kit. Dream sweet dreams."
"Always," she said, but when she got into bed after changing into a cami
She woke at six a.m. Rubbing at gritty eyes, she walked out into the living area to see the airbed deflated and folded up in a corner, the sleeping bag neatly rolled up beside it. No sign of Noah. In the bathroom, she threw cold water on her face, came fully awake with a jolt.
She'd just stepped out of the bathroom when the bus door was pulled open and Noah jumped inside. His hair was plastered to his head, his T-shirt and running shorts to his body. Water ran down his face.
That was when Kit realized the fine drumming she could hear was rain hitting the bus roof. "You'll freeze," she said, grabbing a towel from the little built-in cupboard next to the bathroom. "Get those shoes and socks off."
He obeyed, bending his head so she could rub the towel over the blond strands of his hair. "This'll wreck the festival if it doesn't stop," he said, the words muffled by the towel.
"What's the weather report say?" She knew he'd have checked; Noah did things like that.
"Forecast to clear by eight. Cross your fingers they're right."
Having dried his hair so it was no longer dripping, she ordered him to strip off his T-shirt, then went around and dried his back. It wasn't until she came around to his front, his eyes looking down into hers that she realized what she was doing. Her camisole was thin and he was bare to the waist, all golden skin and ridged muscle and ink. He didn't want her, but that didn't matter to her body.
Her nipples tightened.
Shoving the towel at him, she turned away. "Dry off. I'm going to grab a change of clothes for you." She barely resisted the urge to wrap her arms protectively around herself.
Kathleen Devigny did not hide.
It took her only a couple of minutes to find him some clothes, the closet was so small. After putting them outside the bedroom, she shut the door and got changed herself. She'd intended to wear a dress, but with the rain, she hesitated. In the end, she decided to hope for the best and pulled on the summery yellow strapless sundress that had a cute blue print. She'd pair it with her ankle boots and a hip-length leather jacket she left on the bed for now.
A deep breath, the mask firmly back on, she opened the bedroom door.
Noah was at the kitchenette, damp hair roughly finger-combed and body clad in the old blue jeans and black T-shirt with a faded silver print on the back that she'd found in the closet. Looking up, he smiled. "You want some cereal?"
God, that smile. "Yes," she said as her stomach dipped despite all her admonitions to the contrary.
Picking up a large box, he poured a multicolored waterfall of sugary rings into a bowl.
"Really?" She raised an eyebrow. "Why don't you just give me a candy bar and be done with it?"
A wink. "That's for me." He put a smaller, unopened box on the counter. "This is for you."
It was her favorite kind.
Gripping the butterflies in a tight fist lest they escape and forget all the painful lessons she'd already learned at Noah's hands, she opened the box and poured the flakes into a bowl. He poured milk over it, and the two of them ate in silence. Pretending there wasn't this great pulsing thing between them, this unfinished promise that hurt so much. Pretending they were normal.
"What time did you go for your run?"
A shrug. "Around five maybe."
"It must've still been dark."
"Best time to run. Everything's quiet and most of the vultures are asleep."
Fox's warning vivid in her mind, Kit said, "How much sleep did you get?"
"A few hours." Nonchalant words.
She put down her bowl. "Now you're lying to me?"
His jaw got that hard line that never augured anything good. "Leave it, Kit. I told you I have bad nights sometimes."
"Leave it? Noah--"
"Leave it."
Noah had never yelled at Kit. Never. He still hadn't. But the cold whip of his voice made her flinch. She'd heard him use a similar tone against people he didn't like or those who were getting in his face, but he'd never used it on her.
At first she was hurt--and then she got mad.
Coming around the counter, she stood half a foot from him, arms folded. "You think you can do that to me?" she asked, her fury as hot as his was cold. "Just freeze me out with the famous Noah St. John temper?" So angry it felt as if her skin glowed red-hot, she shook her head. "It doesn't work that way. Friends care. I care." He knew that; what use was hiding it? "You're running on a razor-thin edge."
His eyes glittered, unrelenting stone and icy mists. "What're you going to do? Hug me and make it better? Wave a magic wand to make the insomnia disappear?"
Kit gritted her teeth, but she couldn't quite control the scream that wanted to erupt from her throat. "I sure as hell don't intend for you to give yourself a heart attack from sleep deprivation or endless running just so I can get a part!"
She slashed out a hand. "We're done. We'll break up in a big dramatic deal, and you can pick up one of those women who allow you to get some sleep." Yes, that hurt, that fucking hurt, but this was Noah's life they were talking about.
"No." He grabbed her upper arms, hauled her close. "I promised you I would do this."
Shoving at his chest, Kit tried to pull away, but all she succeeded in doing was taunting herself with the muscled heat of him under her palms. "I'm releasing you from the promise."
Noah wanted to shake her, but he'd never chance hurting Kit. "I won't release myself. I need to do this."
"This isn't your redemption, Noah," she said, her eyes so passionate with emotion that they seemed to glow. "You don't need to do this to save our friendship. I'm being your friend now."
"If you're my friend, then you let me do this." Even if I can't give you anything else, I can give you this. "You damn well let me do this, Kit."
"I won't watch you drive yourself into the ground!"
"I won't. I'll take a pill tonight. I'll sleep." The nightmares would ravage his drugged mind, but it'd be worth it. "I'll sleep. I promise."
Her expression altered, the anger suddenly intermingled with so many other emotions that he couldn't separate them out. "Why won't you talk to me, Noah?" she whispered, placing one hand against his cheek.
The touch was hesitant and he hated that, hated that he'd made her afraid of touching him in friendship, in affection. Raising one of his own hands, he held hers against the stubbled roughness of his cheek. "You know me better than anyone else in this world." Fox knew the details of one thing Kit didn't, but Fox didn't know his heart, not like Kit.
"I don't know why you hurt." A harsh whisper. "Why you hurt so much that you do things that make you deeply unhappy."
Sliding his hand into her hair, he tugged her against him, held her stiff, angry body close. And didn't want to let her go. Not today. Not tomorrow. Never. "Be with me," he whispered, knowing it was the most selfish thing he'd ever asked of anyone in his entire life. "Be with me."
Kit froze against him, a flesh and blood statue.
"I can't be what you need," he whispered against the side of her head. "But be with me anyway."
Kit's body stayed rigid, her breathing so quiet he wasn't sure she was breathing. Noah knew he should release her, call back the words he should've never spoken. But he stayed silent and he held her tight, right against the twisted, scarred, selfish heart that beat only for her.
Fifteen minutes later, and Kit didn't know what she was going to do. Being with Noah, having him for her own, it was all she'd ever wanted, but not this way, not when he couldn't even sleep from the strain of being faithful. It sounded so stupid to put it that way, but how else could she explain it? Noah seemed to get a kind of peace--fleeting though it was--from his random hookups that she couldn't give him.
"Kit."
Glancing up from where she was sitting on the edge of the bed, having just put on her boots, she saw him in the doorway. He'd thrown on a leather jacke
"Rain's stopped," he said.
Unable to bear looking into those eyes that asked her for things that might break her, she got up and tugged at her own leather jacket. "We'll look like those twin couples."
"Yours is brown and sleek, mine is black with buckles and zippers everywhere. Totally different." He shifted out of the doorway, angled his head toward the front of the bus in a silent invitation.
"Where are we going?" she asked as they stepped outside and he wrapped one arm around her shoulders. Around them, the festival grounds were damp and still sleepy. The first show wouldn't kick off till nine, and Schoolboy Choir wasn't on until four that afternoon.
"Just for a walk."
He'd gone running and now he wanted to go for a walk. If she was with him, she wouldn't need Macho Steve, the Evil Personal Trainer, Kit thought wryly. But walking with Noah in the cool morning light was fun. They went out back, behind the buses and the other vehicles. The fields seemed to stretch out endlessly, but once you got over a little rise about a ten-minute walk away, it turned into woods.
Into those woods they walked, just the two of them and the birds and the bodyguards who hung back enough that Noah and Kit had privacy. "Why are Butch and Casey following us?" Noah was more than tough enough to take on the coward who got his rocks off by stalking her.
"I'm not taking any chances with your safety," Noah said, his body suddenly all hard edges. "I don't ever want you in a situation where you feel helpless and alone."
His words, his care, dealt another smashing blow to her already shaky defenses. No, she told herself, he's not good for you. Yes, said her heart. Just yes. "My Spidey senses haven't gone off lately," she said aloud. "I don't think he made it to Zenith."
"Yeah, well, better safe than sorry." He glanced back, lifted a hand in a wave of acknowledgment. "Butch and Casey are good guys--and they know not to get too close."
Kit went to make a joke about getting caught in flagrante delicto, but then the reality of her and Noah stabbed at her and she couldn't.
Be with me, he'd said.
There was no mistaking what he'd meant. He was asking her to make the pretense real, asking her to be his.