Page 16 of Fractured Rhythm

“So comfy,” I said, grinning at my friend as she refilled our wineglasses.

“It’s weird that he would show up out of the blue like that. What the hell was he doing playing at an open mic night? I mean, he could’ve been mobbed if people knew it was him.”

“No kidding. I’m not sure what he was doing there. Our families live upstate and he’s been in LA since before everything happened with Jamie. They all moved out there after they signed their first deal.”

My chest tightened. I didn’t want to think about my brother. I missed him so much. He probably would’ve kicked Bash’s ass if he’d known everything that had happened between us.

“What exactly happened tonight, then?” Holly asked.

“He thought he was rescuing me.”

“Really? How?”

“Some douche-bro wouldn’t take no for an answer on the dance floor.”

“Did someone touch you?” Holly interjected.

“Calm down. I was handling it, but then, all of a sudden, Bash was between the two of us, threatening the idiot to leave me alone. I didn’t even know he was there.”

“That’s almost sweet. You know, if we didn’t totally hate him,” Holly said.

“It was overbearing. I was doing just fine. I didn’t need him muscling his way in like I needed his help or something,” I grumbled.

“I know, but sometimes those assholes don’t like to listen. Not that I’m team Bash right now. But I’m glad someone was there,” Holly said.

“I guess.”

“Then what happened? You told both of them to fuck off and then you bailed?”

“Once the guy left, Bash told me he was in town for a while and that he missed me and that he was sorry for everything. I couldn’t talk to him. I mean, he’s sorry, after all this time. It’s been years. It’s not just the cheating. I’ve been over him for ages.”

Holly raised a brow.

“Shut up. I am. It’s been seven years and I’ve moved on. I’ve dated, and slept with, other guys. Whatever.”

“Who are you trying to convince?”

“What hurts the most is that as soon as we broke up, it was like everything that came before our first hookup, all the years we were great friends, didn’t exist. And when Jamie died, Bash couldn’t even look at me at the funeral. He was my brother’s best friend. He was my friend. And he couldn’t even stop to talk to me. Or give me a hug.”

I took in a shuddering breath and a big gulp of wine, fighting back a cough and the tears that burned behind my eyelids. I’d cried more than enough already for him.

BASH

“Open up, loser,”a muffled—and familiar—voice called through my apartment door late Saturday morning.

What the hell was Jax doing here already? We’d said noon. I glanced at the time on my phone. Fuck. It was just after noon. I’d woken up hours ago, but I must have gotten lost in playing—and thinking about Cassie. I couldn’t shake the look in her eyes when she’d said she couldn’t talk about anything in that moment.

But I needed to talk to her so I could finally tell her the truth—that I’d never cheated on her. It’d just been an easy way to end us. At least, that’s what I’d stupidly thought.

The banging continued, and I shoved aside thoughts of Cassie.

I set my guitar against the edge of the couch and opened the door before the pain in the ass could yell or pound against it anymore. I didn’t need to piss off my neighbors, even though the building was amazingly soundproofed, one of the main reasons I’d picked it.

“Hey, Wolfie, you look like shit,” Jax said, punching me in the shoulder as he shoved past me to get into the apartment.

I fucking hated when they called me Wolfie. It was my mother’s fault. As a high school music teacher in love with all things classical, she’d named me after her two favorite composers, Sebastian Bach and Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. She liked calling me Wolfie when I was a kid, and since my bandmates had been around that long, they tormented me with it.

“Hey, man, it’s been a while,” Tristan said, walking through the door after Jax.

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