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He looked up at the window of the control room where his damn nosy bandmates were standing watching. He nodded to let them know everything was okay. They came traipsing down the stairs. When they were all there, he looked over at Bob. “There’s been a change of plans.”
ChapterForty
Cassie lined up at the checkout with her groceries. Sweat stuck her tank top to her back, and she reached around and pulled the material away from her skin. It had been a long day at work. But even though she’d had a late finish, the heat still hit her on the walk from her car to the grocery store.
She’d ended up deciding not to continue as a touring guitar tech. She wanted to build something of her own. Something that wasn’t based on Bryan’s dream.
While she worked on her plans for the future, she’d gotten a job as a guitar repair technician at an independent music store that also had a small recording studio attached.
She spent her days repairing customer-owned guitars, while helping in the recording studio when needed. No one knew or cared who she was or that she’d supposedly been dating one of the biggest rock stars in the world until a few short weeks ago.
Cassie juggled the milk and bread and a box of mac and cheese that was going to be tonight’s dinner. She was too tired to cook from scratch. Not only was she working long hours at the store and studio, but she was writing songs. Or at least, she was practicing writing songs instead of poetry. It was a slightly different skill, but one she was picking up quickly.
And she loved it.
She was almost at the front of the line now. While she waited, she scanned the shelves, her eyes catching on a magazine headline that had her heart shooting into her throat.
UK Pop Starlet and Crossfire Hottie Make Beautiful Music Together! (In and Out of the Studio).
The photo below it showed a tall, dark-haired man in a club making out with a curvy, pink-haired woman.
Nausea rushed over Cassie so fast, she almost dropped her groceries to clutch at her stomach. The line moved, but she didn’t, her feet frozen to the floor as she stared at the photo. It was so painfully familiar. The memory of the first time she’d felt Zac’s lips against hers came rushing back. She clenched her eyes shut against the pain, but an impatient cough behind her dragged her out of it and got her feet moving again.
She reached for the magazine with a shaky hand but snatched it back. She couldn’t torture herself that way. She was still so raw from everything that had happened. Reading the details of Zac and Talia’s rendezvous would pour so much salt on her open wound, it might end up with her a screaming, crying mess on the floor.
Cassie dropped everything on the counter and blinked hard, trying to hold back the tears. Her pulse throbbed painfully in her temples. When the cashier told her the price, she fumbled with her purse, passed her a crumpled note, then gathered up her groceries and practically bolted from the store.
She held on with gritted teeth until she got back to her apartment. But as soon as she dropped her bag on the countertop of the small kitchen, she slid down with her back against the cabinet door, dropped her head against her knees, and sobbed until her throat was raw.
She thought she was moving past it. Pasthim. Getting her life together. Making a future for herself.
On her own.
Yes, she was lonely. But she was getting used to it. This, though. This pain was a living thing inside her chest, clawing and shrieking to get out. If she’d thought finding Bryan and Stella together had torn her apart, this was far worse. Because it proved beyond a doubt that what she thought Zac had grown to feel for her was as fake as their relationship was always supposed to have been.
When the tears eventually ran out and her head pounded from all the crying, she pushed herself up off the floor and put away the groceries she’d left on the counter. She’d lost her appetite, so she stashed the box of mac and cheese in the cupboard.
Her eye caught on her laptop, sitting out on the bench. She’d resisted buying the magazine, but she had to fight the masochistic urge to look Zac up online. Or maybe she shouldn’t fight it. Rubbing the truth of it in her face might cauterize the wound. It might be what she needed to force herself to let go. The way seeing Bryan with Stella had made her let go.
She wavered on her feet. Then squared her shoulders and sat down in front of the computer. After all, she was already cried out. Hopefully, she had no more tears left.
Cassie quickly typed in Zac’s and Talia’s names before she could come to her senses.
She clicked on the first link that came up, but it was just an article about the fact Talia would be recording a duet with Crossfire, so she tried the next one. This article had the photo from the magazine up the top. Cassie’s heart almost beat its way out of her chest as she made herself look at it.
She frowned. Zac’s hair seemed slightly different. Longer, curling around his ears more. He might have just let it grow, but still, something seemed off in his proportions.
She steeled herself and scanned the article attached to the picture. Her shoulders sagged, and she slumped back against the chair, a sob falling from her lips.
It wasn’t Zac in the photo. It was Beau. Beau was kissing Talia in some faraway British nightclub. Relief made her almost lightheaded, and she clicked out of the site. But not before reading that apparently it was Beau who had recorded the duet with Talia. Was that a mistake on the reporter’s part? The duet had definitely been written for Zac to sing with the beautiful pop star. What could have changed that?
The throbbing in Cassie’s head had eased, the sharp pain in her heart dulling to an ache. But the damage had been done. Zac was front and center in her mind again. Not tucked away where she tried to keep him. Her body felt bruised from all the emotions that had cascaded through it in the last couple of hours.
She stared out the window that overlooked the neighboring apartment block.
She should channel her pain. Try to write a song to get it out of her system. She’d resisted doing it before now. Too scared of digging into the hurt. But holding onto it wasn’t helping. She was better off doing something with it. That way, at least her broken heart would be good for something.
But first, she needed a shower. She was still sticky with sweat. Her face felt stiff with all the tears she’d cried.
