Page 70 of Hard Rock Fling
But somewhere deep inside, I could feel my heart shattering anyway.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ian's egomust have taken a huge blow. Being the one broken up with, and not the other way around, had clearly effected him.
I hadn't wanted things to be awkward between us. That was wishful thinking. He'd been avoiding me ever since our "break up." He barely glanced at me when we were in the same room together. From the way he acted, it was like no girl had ever turned him down before.
He didn't seem angry with me. He simply didn't acknowledge my presence. Whenever I directed a question at him, Damon answered, pretending to be his brother.
I had expected Ian to shrug and tell me something flippant like,it was fun while it lasted. But instead, he had quietly agreed and then proceeded to deny my very existence.
Or maybe that's what he did whenever he dumped a girl. Maybe he stopped caring entirely.
We're just having fun.
She's nothing to me.
The memory of Ian's words made my throat close up. I didn't expect things would be like this when I broke it off. I expected Ian and I could still be, if not friends, at least on friendly terms with each other.
It turned out, I really did mean nothing to him in the end.
"You sure you want to sit in on this?" one of the assistants asked me. "It's going to be the same old questions they're always asked."
The band was scheduled to appear on a local talk show to promote their new album. It wasn't finished yet, but the marketing department decided to get ahead of promotions. They wanted fans excited before releasing a single song.
I tagged along because I wanted to see them in action, so to speak, when they talked to the DJ. Every person acts slightly different depending on the situation, whether signing autographs for fans, performing on stage, or talking to the media. I needed to know more about Darkest Days to make sure I was getting the concepts right. I needed to make sure the concepts really fit with their personalities.
My mind threatened to drift to Ian again. My chest began to ache. I viciously yanked my thoughts back to the present.
I took note of my surroundings to distract myself. The radio studio was like a police station interview room from a TV show. There was a table in the middle of the room with a chair on one side and a second chair across from it. The wall nearest the door had a one-way mirror. It was cold and sterile, aside from the microphones and other recording equipment on the table.
"You sure it's a radio interview and not an interrogation?" I muttered.
Another assistant shot me a glare, shushing me as she walked by with an extra chair under her arm. She set a group of five chairs around the table so the band could sit comfortably. I'd arrived early with the others. The radio host was nowhere to be seen.
There was a commotion in the hallway. The band had arrived. I resisted the urge to duck behind one of the other interns. I didn't need to. I was on the other side of the recording room, behind the one-way mirror. The guys couldn't see me through the glass.
They were dressed up as if they were ready to go on stage. Odd, considering it was a radio interview. No one would see what they looked like. I noticed a few people snapping pictures here and there, and then it made more sense. The PR and social media team would no doubt be posting pictures of this interview all over the internet.
Cameron was the only one dressed sort of normal — or as normal as Cameron could get, which simply meant he was wearing a t-shirt to go along with his dark denim and decorative chains. His bright red hair was wild as ever, strands falling over his face, nearly obscuring his kohl-smudged eyes.
Black skinny jeans and a white t-shirt was August's usual outfit. Platinum blond hair was tied at the back of his neck. Despite the loose hair that kept falling out of his short ponytail and into his face, his thoughtful expression didn't falter into annoyance once.
Noah had slung his ever-present leather jacket over his shoulder instead of wearing it. The tight black t-shirt fit him well, although the dark color hid the toned abs all fangirls squealed over during their rare appearance.
Ian and Damon walked in last, green eyes flashing with mirth at something Cameron said. A spike of painful desire speared my heart. Heat flooded through my body, centering between my legs.
Every. Single. Time. The longer I went without being in Ian's presence, the more I forgot how much power he had over me. Then I would see him again and be reminded. Vividly.
I fought to put my feelings aside and simply observe. The Twins both wore matching Metallica shirts and faded jeans ripped at the knees. Their hair was styled up, spiked, but still seemed soft to the touch.
I knew exactly how soft Ian's hair was. I'd run my hands through it countless times while he'd kissed me. While he'd touched me. While he'd been inside me.
My thighs clenched together at the flood of memories.
Why exactly had I called it off again?
Ian's eyes flickered around the room, as if seeking something. He glanced at the mirror and stopped. He was staring right at me. He couldn't see me, could he? The glass only went one way. My breath caught in my throat as I met his green eyes.
