Page 2 of Love is a Harmony
She leaned in. “Phony.”
“Phony, eh?” The word hit home, but he didn’t let her see the impact. “I’ll show you phony.” He flipped her off him and rolled her beneath him in one movement until he hovered over her. Taking the phone from her fingers, he held it up and dropped his voice. “How is this for phony?” His face inches from hers, he snapped the picture.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly. Ava had never been his. She’d always been in love with his brother, and Noah sometimes wondered if she saw too much of Carson in him. He sat back on his heels, looking down at her, wondering if she’d given up hope yet.
Hope that Carson would return after his disappearing act years ago.
Hope that Noah’s family would welcome him if he did.
Hope that things could be different.
Because Noah would never give it up. He’d never stop wishing he could call his brother, who used to be the most important person in the world to him, that he could tell him about the insanity his life had become.
And that only started with fake scandals.
Ava scrambled from the chaise, her fingers already flying over the keys of her phone. After a moment, she looked up. “And posted.” She held her phone out for him to see the picture.
She’d given it a black and white filter, and they looked lost in each other. Beneath it, she’d written “I always love visits from my favorite rocker.” Likes started pouring in. Ava was a social media guru. Noah relied on her whenever he wanted something spread wide. He stayed away from social media himself, letting the label’s media team handle it. Thinking of how angry they were going to be by this display had him smiling.
At least he was doing something right.
“It was fun, love.” Noah pressed a kiss to her cheek and reached for his shirt to slip it on over his head. “We shall have to do this again sometime.”
Ava crossed her arms. “Stop speaking like the toff you were bred to be. It’s not right.”
He shot her a smirk. “Whatever you say, love. I must be off. Nan will be wondering if I crashed my Maserati.”
“Now, that would be a shame. Your face would recover, but that car…” She pushed him toward the door. “Drive safe, and don’t make me wait so long to see you next time.”
“Life of a rock star, Ava. Get used to it.” He gave her his smarmiest smile, and she yanked open the door.
“Well, my best friend isn’t a rock star. He’s the boy who used to spike the punch at his family’s events, thinking no one would be able to tell.”
He had done that. Three times. And each time, it resulted in high society ladies spitting out their drinks in a very un-ladylike fashion.
Noah shrugged on his coat and winked. “See you soon.”
With that, he stepped outside her townhome, letting the chilly November air wrap around him. He loved the cold, reveled in the feel of the wind whipping him in the face. It cleared his mind.
His Maserati sat at the curb, the cobalt blue paint glittering in the sun. Only two weeks ago, he’d been on tour with Drew Stone. Months of drivers in black town cars shuttling him where he needed to go. It felt good to be back behind the wheel.
He only wished it felt just as good to be home.
Home. London didn’t feel like a place he belonged anymore. His friends in the states, fellow rock stars and label execs, assumed he came back here on his time off because he owned a place in the city. What would they say if they knew he only did it to meet family expectations?
A sigh wound through him as he slid onto the leather seats and closed the door. His phone rang, and he knew who it was before he answered it. Pressing a button on his steering wheel, he steeled himself for the onslaught.
“Noah Clarke!” She didn’t sound happy. Melanie Snyder was his publicist but also more than that. They’d become friends, and having her around calmed him. But here, with an ocean between them, he started to lose that feeling.
“Hey, Mel. How’s it going?”
“How’s it going? Hmm… let’s see. A few minutes ago, one of my biggest clients was tagged in an Instagram photo in an unclothed state.”
He suppressed a laugh. Only Mel would say “unclothed state.” Well, her and most the people he knew here in England. She’d fit in well with his family. “Sorry, Mel. I didn’t know she’d post that.”
He hated lying to her, but he knew she wouldn’t agree to the lengths he went to keep up the image. So, he let her believe the image was him.
Melanie’s sigh came through the speaker. “Every gossip publication will pick that up by tonight. Can you get her to take it down?”
