Page 61 of Aria

“You’resorry? Fuck, I’m a total asshole. Jesus Christ.” Devon stood up and paced around the room, running his hands through his hair. “I guess I had too much to drink, and I was… pissed. Jealous. You probably think I’m a psychopath.”

My eyes fluttered open. “No, I…” I trailed off as I tried to center myself and gain control of my racing thoughts. Then, I forced my eyes on his and spit the words out: “I was raped before.”

It was time to tell the truth.

Devon stared at me in bewilderment—or shock. Perhaps both. “Are you serious?”

I nodded, pulling my knees to my chest. “I haven’t been entirely honest with you, Devon. I didn’t want you to think I was screwed up.”

“Why would you think that? You don’t trust me?” He was pacing the room again, shaking his head back and forth. “Well, now… I guess you have little reason to trust me.”

“I do trust you, Devon,” I said, and it was the truth. Despite his actions, I knew he would never hurt me.He wasn’t Ian.“I’m sorry I never told you the truth about my past. I should have. There’s no excuse.”

“Does anyone else know about this?”

I paused, hesitating. This was another relationship-defining moment—would I pass or fail?

“Just Lisa. No one else besides my family.”

Fail.

There was no point in opening that can of worms. Devon was already feeling jealous and paranoid over my friendship with his bandmate. If he knew I’d confided in Noah over him… well, that would be the end of our relationship.

I could kiss my future with Devon Sawyer goodbye.

Devon sat down beside me and placed a gentle hand atop my knee. His smile was warm and kind.He was Devon again.“Tell me everything.”

CHAPTERSEVENTEEN

NOAH

“That’s a wrap,” Tad said, spinning two drumsticks between his fingers.

I reached for a towel to wipe the perspiration off my face. We had just finished a grueling practice, gearing up for the Grammy’s.

“That was a fuckin’ doozy.” Miles clapped his hands together with satisfaction. “I think we nailed it, my friends.”

“I’m with you there,” Tad agreed.

Devon cracked open a beer and held it above his head. “Here’s to Freeze Frame going to the Grammy’s,” he said. He chugged down the beer and crushed the can in his hand. “Want to celebrate at Ernie’s? Drinks on me, assholes.”

“I’m game,” I shrugged.

The accompanying wince from Devon did not go unnoticed.

“Sweet,” Miles said. “I think that foxy bartender works Thursday nights.”

“Don’t be a shithead,” I scolded, packing up my guitar. “Lisa’s an awesome girl.”

Miles held up his hands. “I didn’t do nothin’. A guy can appreciate is all I’m saying.”

Sighing, I checked the time on my cell phone. I’d told Chelsie I would be home by eight, and it was getting close, so I sent her a text to see if she would be okay staying a little longer. Getting drinks with the guys wasn’t the most honorable excuse, but I could really use the distraction.

Not that I was hankering to spend more time with Devon, exactly. We hadn’t been friendly with each other since our dinner date the week before, keeping things all “business.” No chit-chat, no humorous banter, and certainly no mention of our blonde common interest.

Chelsie had been withdrawn the past week. Mopey and melancholy. I had tried to pick her brain, but she wasn’t budging.

“You know I appreciate your concern, but nothing is wrong, Noah,” she had told me that afternoon after arriving for Sam duty.

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