Page 89 of Hard Rock Deceit
Even though he was upset, I knew eventually he would patch things up with the guys. They were his bandmates. His bestfriends.
I didn't know exactly what August and I were to each other, but I had to try fixing things betweenus,too.
ChapterTwenty-Six
When I pulledup to August's house, I couldn't keep my mouth fromdropping.
I might have called it a mansion, if the exterior had been made of stones or brick or more traditional, old fashionedmaterials.
This place was the definition of contemporary-modern chic. It was so starkly modern it was bordering on futuristic. All glass and steel with linear structures, a flat rooftop and an elegant blackfacade.
"Are you freaking kidding me," I muttered under mybreath.
Warm sun glinted off the glass windows, reflecting the light and nearly blinding me. I wished I had those Transitions glasses, the ones that darkened the lenses into sunglasses when it was bright out. I never cared to carry around a second pair of prescription sunglasses for sunny days. If I lived here, it would have been anecessity.
I couldn't believe this was August'shouse.
Grabbing the canvas bag from the passenger's side seat, I climbed out of the car and forced myself to walk up to thefrontdoor.
If there was a doorbell, I couldn't find it. Instead, I knocked on the jet black front door. No answer, as Iexpected.
Windows framed the doorway. Peeking through, I saw an open concept foyer so large it extended to the back of the house. It allowed me to see through a set of double French doors leading to a patiooutback.
I caught the top of August'sblondhead.
Determined, I made my way around the side of the house. There was a gate separating the long driveway from the backyard. It was open a crack, unlocked. Not very safe, but that wasn't my problem. It only made my taskeasier.
The gate opened smoothly as I pushed on it. A large, cobble-stoned patio took up most of the vast backyard, but what grass there was had been watered to an emerald green. A modest sized in-ground pool took up the rest of the area, the bright sun making the watersparkle.
August sat at a glass topped patio table. The furniture looked sturdy enough that it wouldn't have been surprising to see it being used as a dining roomtable.
With noise-canceling earphones around his head and sunglasses over his eyes, August was hunched over, scribbled furiously on a sheet of paper, making little marks and notes here and there with his pencil. He didn't see mewalkin.
Not wanting to scare him, I made my way over carefully. When I was standing at the opposite end of the table, I pulled out a chair, making sure to drag the legs across the cobble-stone, making a sharp gratingsound.
His head whipped up. His lips parted, taking in a quickbreath.
"Hey," I said, knowing he couldn't hear me with hisearphoneson.
Slowly, he pulled them off his head, setting them on thetable.
"Hey," hereplied.
His voice was hoarse, not that smooth, husky tone my body responded to so readily. His face was pale, his hair limp. My heart ached. I'd been hoping to find August well, perhaps a bit upset, but still the same confident, alluring, headstrong man I'd cometoknow.
"I brought you some of the stuff you forgot on the tour bus." I set the canvas bag on the closest chair. "I wanted to make sure you didn't lose yourfavoritebook."
"I have half a dozen othercopies."
His hand was still gripping his pencil, knuckles turning white. I took a seat, keeping a few patio chairsbetweenus.
"How are you doing?" Iasked.
"Fine."
"Is that normal fine or August-speak fine?" I tried to keep my voice light andteasing.
"It meansI'mfine."
