Page 3 of Fractured Dreams

Tabby’s eyes were bright. “So, what does playing my cards right involve?”

The ache in Eden’s chest—the one that had been there since the moment she’d swung the door to Mason’s bedroom open a week ago—deepened, stealing her breath. She finally let the smile she’d been trying so hard to maintain slip as she lifted her glass and drank the last of her cocktail. Placing it carefully back down on the bar, she turned to her friend, cheerful facade gone. “Just keep these coming until I can’t remember what I saw my boyfriend doing, please.”

“Oh, honey.” Tabby leaned forward to give Eden a hug. When she pulled away, she waved the bartender over and ordered another round of drinks. Once they both had fresh ones in front of them, she faced Eden and held up her glass for a toast. “To the asshole who lost you and the lucky bastard who finds you!”

With a sad smile, Eden raised her glass and clinked it against Tabby’s.

Chapter 2

The heat of the spotlight bathed Tex’s body as the chords he was wringing from his guitar whipped out over the screaming crowd. The sound in the arena intensified as he finished his solo, using an amp to make the instrument scream with feedback, before Connor’s voice cut back in to continue belting out the last verse of one of Fractured’s biggest hits.

The fans, ecstatic at the opportunity to see the band play during their self-imposed hiatus, roared their approval, chanting and stamping their feet, the wall of sound loud enough to set off an answering reverberation in Tex’s chest. As always, the sheer energy and intensity of one of their concerts had his heart pounding, the adrenaline pumping through his veins to his fingers as he played lightning-fast licks on the top strings of his cherry red custom Gibson Les Paul.

With the heavy back beat of Noah’s drums and Zac’s thumping bass building to a crescendo behind him, Tex wrapped up the final song of their set with a snarling riff that had the cacophony from the stands reaching ear-shredding levels. As the last note faded, and with the strings still vibrating under his fingertips, he looked out at the thousands of people that had come to see them perform, basking in the almost intimate connection he sometimes experienced when playing live.

Tossing his pick into the heaving sea of bodies, to be caught by an elated fan, Tex thanked the crowd with a salute, and along with Connor, Zac, and Noah, left the stage to a wave of thunderous noise, unable to keep the grin off his face. Nothing would ever replace the thrill of performing live with his friends. Being onstage, guitar in hand, was always like coming home to him.

Fractured had been on hiatus for close to a year and a half now, while he and Connor worked on figuring out the new direction they wanted to take the band. At the end of their last tour, Connor had finally admitted that the intense touring schedule they’d subjected themselves to since becoming famous had burned him out. So, the four of them had made a unanimous decision to pull back from the massive stadium tours they were used to, take a break, and work toward creating an album that would lend itself to a more intimate live experience.

Tex and Connor had spent the break writing songs, not only for a new Fractured album but also for Zac and Noah’s side project band, Crossfire. Zac had wanted to try his hand at being frontman after playing bass and singing backup vocals for Fractured for over a decade, so the hiatus had been the perfect opportunity for him to give it a go. And Noah, well, Noah loved drumming—he wasn’t overly interested in taking a long break from it.

Although Tex had been enjoying writing music with Connor, and the more relaxed pace of life without the pressure of touring, Fractured’s occasional performance at music festivals or benefit concerts such as the one at which they’d just performed, fulfilled him in a way nothing else seemed to. And with more than an album’s worth of songs almost ready to go, they’d hopefully soon be back in the recording studio and preparing for more frequent live performances.

Tex caught up with the others where they were huddled around Drew, the band’s manager, who was handing out bottles of water. He accepted one, then slung a tattooed arm over Connor’s shoulders. “Where’s Lexie?” he asked, knowing their lead singer’s fiancée wouldn’t be too far away. She and Connor had basically been joined at the hip since they met on the band’s last tour. Tex might have found it slightly nauseating if he weren’t hoping to find the same kind of relationship for himself one day.

“She’s taking photos with some of the kids from Music for Hope. She’ll catch up with us in a bit.” The warmth in Connor’s green eyes and the extra lilt to his soft Irish accent was all for the beautiful photographer who had stolen his heart—something Tex would have considered impossible if he hadn’t seen it unfold in front of him almost a year and a half ago.

Lexie was now the official band photographer and had volunteered to take promotional photos on behalf of the charities the concert was in aid of. Music therapy was a cause close to all of their hearts and Fractured supported several charities that provided the service to those in need.

Tex unscrewed the lid from his bottle and took a long drink of the icy cold water just as Lexie strolled up, camera in hand. Her pretty gray eyes were fixed on Connor, who reached out, grabbed her around the waist and tugged her against him, placing a tender kiss on her lips.

The sight of the two of them together made Tex smile, but it also sent a stab of envy through him. Not that he didn’t have his pick of women—that comes with the territory when you’re the lead guitarist for one of the world’s biggest rock bands, not to mention being six foot four and covered in ink—but he never felt anything for those women other than short-term lust. He’d never had the urge to wake up next to any of them, to spend time with them outside the bedroom—to lose himself in them.

He’d never experienced the kind of spark he’d seen burning between Connor and Lexie from the first moment he’d laid eyes on the two of them together.

And fuck, hewantedthat—the spark, the overwhelming passion… the love.

It had always been something he’d wanted, and he didn’t have to be a psychologist to figure out it was probably connected to his mom leaving him and his dad when he was only six years old. That her departure from his life left him craving a relationship where someone loved you enough to never leave.

But then, he’d never much cared about why, just that he did—no point questioning it. And until recently he’d been content with the state of his life, playing the field, enjoying the many benefits of being a rock star, knowing that someday, when the time was right, the woman meant for him would appear. But so far, she hadn’t. And now he was about to hit thirty and getting fucking tired of waiting.

Tex tuned back into the conversation going on around him when he heard Noah mention his sister. “What’s going on with Eden?” he asked, wondering what he’d missed.

“I spoke to her last night. Apparently, she broke up with the douchebag she was dating. She wouldn’t tell me why, but I get the impression the guy was a loser who jerked her around.” The drummer’s blue eyes narrowed in anger at the thought. “She was supposed to be staying down there with him until her internship starts in three months, but I invited her to come and hang here with me.”

Tex frowned. He hadn’t seen Noah’s sister in over a year and a half—he’d been out of town the last time she’d visited—but he wasn’t happy to hear some guy had been treating her badly. While Eden had only been ten when they’d signed their record deal and left their hometown, too young to have hung out with them much before that, he still had fond memories of her occasionally playing her violin with them while they practiced in her folks’ garage. When her parents and Noah would let her, of course.

Lexie smiled warmly at Noah. “I’m looking forward to seeing her again,” she said.

“Well, she’ll be here on Saturday, so lunch at my place on Sunday once I’ve settled her in?” Noah asked.

Everyone agreed, including Drew, who was notoriously too busy to socialize much, even on weekends. After that, Tex and the other three men headed to their dressing room to shower and change, before making their way to the limo waiting to take them to a nearby club for a post-concert PR appearance.

???

The club—owned by several A-list celebrities and exuding the slightly pretentious vibe one would expect—was packed. Security ushered the band, Drew, and Lexie through to the VIP section. A ripple of excitement ran through the crowd as people noticed their arrival, and the dance floor suddenly became more crowded as women flocked to it in order to show off their tanned and toned bodies in barely there clothes.

Tex sank down onto the black leather couch overlooking the dance floor, Noah to one side and Drew to the other. A waitress dropped off drinks for them, beers to start, though the chances were good he’d switch to whiskey later if they stuck around for a while.

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