The Hardest Set (Willow Son #4/Brothers of Rock #19) (13 page)

Back at the couch, Van took a page
from Colby
’
s book and had a
notebook with a pen. It had been a long time since he tried to do any kind of
songwriting. Then again, look what Ryker had done. He had the foundation of the
entire acoustic album that had now set Willow Son bigger than any of them could
have dreamed.

Van strummed a handful of chords,
just trying to let the sound take over his mind. The beer helped too. A lot of
beer, actually.

An hour of jamming left Van with
two pages of potential lyrics - most of them really just notes. He did come up
with a decent sounding song with basic chords. He had mastered the ability to
play with his fingers, plucking the individual strings and notes of the chords,
bringing a better and sadder sound to the song.

A six pack of empty bottles was on
the table.

Van
’
s
heart was on fire.

He kept an idea running about a
girl
…
leaving work, alone,
in the dark, going home to nothing. Damn, he realized he was writing a song - a
story - about Natalie. The secrets of her heart, something hidden in her eyes.

Does she know she
’
s not alone? Does she
know it
’
s
okay to cry?

Van scribbled sentence after
sentence like a bestselling author finally bringing to life the plot of the
century. What started as an attempt at lyrics became more of a journal entry
spanning page after page.

The woman went home, alone, feeling
desperate. Then a guy who was also alone but felt so crammed and busy. The
world so noisy on a quiet night.

Van finally dropped the pen and
shut the notebook as he sat back with another beer. He shut his eyes and put
his head back. It felt good to write like that. To be honest on paper and
nobody ever had to know about it. Shit, it felt really good. Normally his
routine with the band was to see who brought what to the table and just run
with it. Ryker would fire up a guitar and jam a riff. Jett would offer
something. Then Van would just play the root notes of the riff on bass to give
a chunky sound. After that was when he
’
d
go into a bigger and better bass line, if the song needed it. Sometimes songs
were simple. Three chords, three notes, and a ton of heart. Those were the magical
songs.

Magic.

That was a good way to think about
music sometimes. Simply magic. That sudden rush of feeling when everything
starts to make sense.

Kind of like looking at Natalie
…

Van grinned.

That would never happen again
though. That train had come and gone twice now.

Unless, of course, Van was going to
become a sucker who believed in fate.

10.

“
How
much more are you going to drink?
”

“
Until
I
’
m done,
”
Natalie said.
“
That
’
s how much.
”

“
Okay,
Nat,
”
Andrea said. She took
Natalie
’
s empty glass and
set it on the table.
“
I
think you
’
ve reached your
fill on tonight.
”

“
I
threw a drink in his face,
”
Natalie said and grinned.
“
Right
in his damn face. Who gets to say that about a rockstar?
”

“
I
guess you do,
”
Andrea said.
“
That sounds like fun.
”

“
It
wasn
’
t fun,
”
Natalie said.

“
Hey,
keep it down.
”

They were in a dimly lit
restaurant, drinking wine. Well, Natalie was drinking wine. Andrea had two
small glasses and the rest of the bottle belonged to Natalie. She couldn
’
t figure it out, which was
killing her on the inside. Van shouldn
’
t
matter, at all. He was a cocky jerk and a rich rockstar. That was it. He
thought he could sleep with anyone he wanted, fine. He thought he could talk
how he wanted, fine.

But it was beyond that.

There was a hint of pain. That
’
s what sucked Natalie in.

“
I
can
’
t believe he did that
though,
”
Andrea said.
“
Paid the rent and stuff.
”

“
He
’
s a jerk off.
”

“
A
lot of guys are,
”
Andrea
said with a grin.
“
Don
’
t take that personally.
”

“
But
I am. And I can
’
t figure
out why.
”

“
Which
is why you should have slept with him. I told you that. You need to just
…
go do it. Get it out of your
system. It
’
s bothering you
because you want some loving.
”

“
Loving?
”
Natalie asked.
“
Nothing about Van is loving. He
’
s
…
vile. That
’
s right, vile.
He thinks he can just
…”

“
Wow,
”
Andrea said.
“
You
’
re getting all turned on right now just talking
about him.
”

“
Okay.
Now you shut up. I
’
ll throw
a drink at you.
”

“
Yeah?
Then I
’
ll fire you.
”

“
You
never hired me.
”

“
I
paid you for work. You
’
re
mine now.
”

“
I
hate you,
”
Natalie said.

“
You
love me,
”
Andrea said. She
poured more wine into Natalie
’
s
glass.
“
This is the last
one. End of discussion.
”

“
Yeah,
yeah.
”

Natalie felt her bag vibrate. She
jumped and turned, grabbing for her bag.

It
’
s him. It
’
s Van. He
’
s calling to apologize. He wants to hang out
again.

“
Whoa,
”
Andrea said.
“
Easy now.
”

Natalie looked at the phone and
then dropped it. She could feel the color drain from her face.

“
What
was that?
”

“
Nothing,
”
Natalie said.
“
Stupid stuff.
”

“
Tell
me.
”

“
Trust
me, it
’
s nothing. It wasn
’
t Van, if that
’
s what you were thinking.
”

“
I
wasn
’
t thinking a thing,
”
Andrea said.
“
You were. You like him, don
’
t you?
”

“
No.
It
’
s just
…”

“
He
’
s so sexy and famous.
”

“
But
it
’
s not that. He got hurt,
Andrea. Someone really hurt him. That
’
s
why he was so drunk at the party. I don
’
t
know, I thought maybe
…”

Natalie felt her phone vibrate
again.

I miss you

Please don
’
t ignore me

Natalie kept a straight face the
best she could as she stared at Andrea. Her stomach started to do front flips.
That was cue to get the hell to the bathroom.

Grabbing her phone, Natalie excused
herself and rushed to the bathroom. She expected Andrea to tail her, just in
case she threw up, but that didn
’
t
happen. And Natalie wasn
’
t
going to throw up. Not yet at least.

She stood at the bathroom sink and
stared at herself in the mirror. Her phone rested on the counter. Luckily she
was the only person in the bathroom.

When she looked down at the phone,
she pressed a button to bring the screen to life.

There were the two messages

I miss you

Please don
’
t ignore me

It was like stepping back in time.

This was what he did. What happened
now? Was his wife out of town? Were they having a fight? Or was he just drunk,
in the next room, looking for a little attention over the phone?

Natalie opened the messages and
felt her fingers shaking as she touched the screen.

No

She hit the send button and that
was it.

She wasn
’
t going to play this game with Mark. Not again, not
anymore. It was over, for good. For real. No matter the pain. Even if the pain
was worse than the guilt.

“
Shit,
”
she whispered.

The wine suddenly lost its cool
edge. It was like a warm blanket around her, someone soothing her, begging her
to get upset. In reality, Natalie just wanted to get mad. She wanted to get
really fucking mad.

She wanted - no, needed - to take
it all out on Mark.

A message popped up on her screen.

You can never say no to me and
mean it

Natalie shut her eyes. This was how
it always started. A couple flirty texts and then she
’
d end up in bed with him. Then he
’
d have to go and she
’
d find out everything with he
and his wife was okay. They were never going to get divorced. And even if they
did
…

“
Stop
it,
”
Natalie said.

She reached down for her phone
again.

There was one more message to send
for the night.

Then she needed to beg Andrea for a
ride.

Not home though. No.

Tonight, Natalie would blame it on
the wine.

Tonight, she would leap over the
line of trouble and demons.

But just for tonight.

**

Van heard his cell going off and
when he picked his head up, his neck felt stiff and sore. He blinked a few
times and realized it was a few hours later. The bottle of beer still in his
hand, now warm. The writing session and drinking had taken their toll on his
body. The last thing he wanted now was to be awake and bothered by anyone.

When he saw the name on the screen,
he shook his head.

Again?

She wanted to know his address. She
wanted to come over. She wanted to confess something.

Van knew the right answer was to
tell her to go the hell home and sleep it off. That she had enough on her own
to figure out. That she didn
’
t
need him messing things up, because that
’
s
what he did.

Instead, Van text his address.

That was a risky move because if
she wanted to be a bitch, she could easily give it out online and then Van
’
s apartment building would be
swarmed by Willow Son fans. It wasn
’
t
like he lived in some secluded mansion with personal security. It was just a
regular luxury apartment building.

After sending the text, Van could
only wait.

He paced the apartment wondering
what he
’
d say to her. What
she
’
d say to him. How it
would all play out. Maybe he
’
d
get mean and kick her out. Maybe she
’
d
get mad at him and slap him in the face.

Thinking killed time and time
brought her right to his front door.

She knocked and Van tore the door
open, wondering what he was going to feel.

“
You
want the truth?
”

“
You
’
re drunk, sweetie,
”
Van said.

His heart jumped when he saw
Natalie standing there. That was a sign of trouble. Big time trouble. Top that
with her being drunk
…
hell,
Van was even still feeling it a little. That meant confessions and bad
decisions were there for the taking.

“
So
drunk,
”
Natalie said.
“
And now I
’
m here.
”

“
Christ,
you didn
’
t drive, did you?
”

“
No!
”

“
Okay,
good
…”

“
Why?
You worried about me?
”

Van stepped back.
“
No. I
’
m worried about everyone else in your path.
”

“
You
’
re such an asshole.
”

“
Yet
you keep coming to me.
”

“
Because
you
’
re not nice. You
’
re not fair to me. You judged
me. You think you know stuff
…”

“
Then
tell me,
”
Van said.
“
I
’
m
standing right here. I asked you before. I ask you again. Tell me everything
you
’
ve done wrong.
”