Bend (A Stepbrother Romance) (8 page)

She recognized it immediately. “I love that one. It’s actually my favorite.”

“Yeah?” I asked. I played part of the chorus and hummed along. “I would have guessed your favorite would be off of the first album.” I winked. “You know, before I was cool.”

“No,” she said. She pulled her camera from the floor and fiddled with the lens. “I’m not one of those types of fans. I think you just keep getting better.”

Deposited by an icy wind

I make my mark

Note that I was here and know

That no one else knows

Where here is

I sang the lyrics. A dreamy look crossed Cadence’s face, making my chest tight.

“I wish I could play it,” she said, “I took guitar lessons for a little while, but I was never very good.”

“Wish I had time to teach you,” I said, then mentally cursed myself for letting that slip. “It’s a little hard for beginners, anyway.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhm. Too many bends.”

Her brow wrinkled. “What’s that?”

“Your lessons couldn’t have gotten very far if you don’t know that term,” I said with a smirk. “It’s when you bend the string to change the note.” I demonstrated—first with one single note, then with a flurry of them. “Gotta have agile fingers.”

She blushed.

My phone buzzed again. Then hers rang. She jerked as if startled. “That’s weird,” she muttered, “No one would be looking for me this early.”

“Something must be wrong,” I said, finally concerned. I put down the guitar and grabbed my phone from the nightstand.

I ignored the voicemails and scrolled through my texts. There was one from Kelly that started off with a few choice curse words so I skipped it. I scrolled past a few from the band and crew and settled on Sloane’s.

Call me!!! [Sun 07:30]

Just those two words, plus a link to the local paper. I clicked on it.

“What the fuck…” I quickly scanned the article. Cadence cursed from her spot on the bed, just as confused as I was.

Words jumped out at me. “Impromptu marriage,” “secret affair,” “Glenn Sonder’s new wife,” “hotel sex romp,” “stepsiblings.”
Stepsiblings?

I dropped the phone, flinging it away as if it burned my hand. The room spun and my stomach roiled as if I’d been struck in the gut. “What the fuck is this?!” Slack-jawed, my eyes sought Cadence just as her camera hit the floor. She looked up from own her phone, her eyes as wide as they would go.

“What the fuck?” I asked her again. Her mouth flapped uselessly. “You’re my stepsister?!”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Cadence

Teary-eyed, confused, and humiliated, I fled Keir’s hotel room with my heels in my hand and my dress barely zippered up the back.

It was supposed to be so simple. So easy. A typical story of girl meets rock star, has an amazing night or two, moves on. Nothing special.

ROCK STAR STEPSISTER SCANDAL.
How was this even possible?
SONDER & SIS SEX ROMP.
One headline after another.
SLEEPING WITH HIS STEP?!

I was thrown into this bizarre reality so quickly, so harshly, that my head was spinning. I couldn’t remember what day it was.

How had this happened?

It took only a minute of investigating to figure it out. My mother had married his father in a secret ceremony. One that I wasn’t even aware of. I didn’t even know that she’d been dating. To be fair, she was always dating, so that fact in itself wasn’t much of a shock. Even the surprise marriage wasn’t that far-fetched when it came to her.

But to Keir’s father, of all people? How? Why?
Why?
Keir had been just as bewildered as I felt at discovering the news. He’d shouted at me. He accused me of scheming, as if I’d somehow planned the whole wretched affair. Then he dialed a number on his phone and turned his back on me to shout at someone else.

I fled the room like it was a crime scene and got right on the nearest bus, praying it was at least going in the general direction of my neighborhood.

I glanced around the blank and tired faces of so many riders that I was stuck standing. Just last night I was riding in a limo.
I shouldn’t have taken off like that. I should have demanded a damn ride home.

But that regret soon fizzled. The entire fantasy was dissolving around me, like Cinderella at the stroke of midnight. All that was left was the dress, and that would disappear soon, too—Keir’s stylist would be knocking on my door later.

And as the fairytale fled, reality crept back in. The sinking feeling in my gut told me what my mind wasn’t ready to accept.

I was going to have to call my mother.

It had been two years since I’d spoken to her. I’d hoped to let that grow to three and beyond, but that wasn’t going to be an option. I just knew as soon as she saw that headline she wouldn’t be able to resist storming her way back into my life.

I waited until the indignity of that bus ride was over and I was safe in my bedroom at home. My roommates regarded me with wide eyes when I entered the apartment but I couldn’t meet their stares. I couldn’t bear it. Not yet—not while I could still feel echoes of Keir’s touch all over my body. My stepbrother? I shuddered at that thought, and promised myself the hottest shower I could stand as soon as I finished the dreaded phone call.

Mom answered after two rings. “Cadence! I thought that I might hear from you.” She sounded good. Happy. Though her voice had endured years of cigarette abuse and who-knew-what-else, she still managed to sound sunny and upbeat.

She still knew how to draw people in.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Well, you can’t blame me for this one, honey. I didn’t know you were seeing Keir.”

“We’re not seeing each other,” I said softly, pushing away memories of past ruined relationships. I’d gotten good at burying all the hurt that she’d caused me, but it was much easier to do when we weren’t talking.

“Oh! So did you call to congratulate me?”

“I–” I realized that this phone call changed nothing. Solved nothing. But I also realized that I’d missed the sound of her voice. She’d hurt me so many times in the past but she was still my mother.
I never should have called
. “I guess I did,” I said. “Congrats.”

She squealed so loud I had to hold the phone away from my ear. “You know, after Jackson last year, I thought that I would never find love again. But then Glenn found me! Isn’t it wonderful?”

“Why all the secrecy?” I asked.

“Oh, Glenn has been married so many times, and I supposed I’ve churned through a few myself, we just didn’t want to invite the attention.” Her tone dropped as she mock-scolded me. “But then you kids had to go and hump each other like a couple of rabbits and now the cat’s out of the bag!”

“Was Keir’s father upset?”

“He’ll get over it,” she said dismissively. “So when are you going to come see us?”

She didn’t even call about the marriage but now she’s demanding a visit?
“I’m pretty busy. Soon, I hope.”

“Don’t be silly, we’re in the LA area. Glenn will send you a car.”

Glenn Sonder. I was going to meet Glenn Sonder? The filthy rich media mogul, Keir’s father and manager, meeting him under normal circumstances would have been terrifying enough. “I don’t know…”

“It’s the weekend!” she said, “Come on! You have to check this place out, at the very least. It’s huge!”

“I can imagine,” I mumbled. I put my head in my hands and sighed.

“Cadence,” she said, suddenly serious. “We can’t keep ignoring each other like this. I’m your mother. And… I miss you.”

I didn’t want to have this conversation. “Tomorrow,” I said, just to appease her.

She squealed again, making me cringe. “I can’t wait! Just give me your address and we’ll send the car around. How’s ten o’clock? Bring your bathing suit!”

When I hung up a minute later, I felt like I’d been rolling around inside a washing machine. My mother was a tornado of a person. I almost felt sorry for Glenn, and for Keir. She never stormed out of anyone’s life without leaving behind some real damage.

Shower. Must shower. And sleep. And have a few drinks.

My phone buzzed with a text from one of the writers at work. I ignored it. I turned the volume all the way down and hid the phone under my pillow.

That was about all that I could handle for the day.
And it isn’t even noon, yet
.

I should have been making plans with the roommates to hang out, go out, to tell them all about my wild night with Keir. To relive it all, to replay it over and over in my head, storing the memory of him away forever.

Now all I wanted to do was hide away from everything and everyone. His stepsister. I’d never live it down! How could I possibly show my face in the office on Monday? How?

At least Keir was on tour. I didn’t need to try to hide from him—I probably wasn’t going to see him ever again, anyway. This just guaranteed it.

Despite the horrible things he’d said, knowing I wouldn’t be seeing him again made my heart ache. We’d had a connection. I knew he felt it, too.

That’s how it had to be with a star like him, though. Even without the scandal we were over before we even started.

At least I was able to hold the tears back until I made it to the shower.

═ ♪ ♫ ♪ ═

The embarrassment continued later that afternoon when one of the writers from my job showed up at my apartment.

“Cadence!” my roommate, Alisa, called from outside my bedroom door. “Someone’s out front asking for you. Says he’s from your office.”

I groaned. I did not want to deal with anyone from work. I was even idly considering quitting, though I couldn’t afford to.

I threw on a t-shirt and jeans, ran my fingers through my hair, and found one of the
Snap Sparkle Pop
writers chatting with Alisa at the kitchen table.

“Hi, Zach,” I said warily. At least his was a somewhat friendly face. We didn’t generally interact very much but he was a nice guy from what I could tell.

“Cadence,” he said, jumping to his feet. “Can we talk?”

I sighed. “You want the exclusive interview, or something? I don’t think Keir will want to speak to me again.”

Alisa remained in her chair with her mouth hanging open. “Don’t mind me,” she squeaked when I glanced at her.

“I’m sorry, Alisa, but can I speak to Zach alone?” I asked.

“Actually, grab your shoes,” he said, “Let’s talk over coffee.”

“I can make coffee,” Alisa offered.

He looked around our kitchen. We got a lot of natural light, but it still managed to look cramped—probably because we had so much clutter sitting out on the countertops. Alisa was an aspiring private chef and had all sorts of machines and gadgets taking up all the space. Even the kitchen table itself was crowded. There wasn’t enough empty space for Zach to set up his laptop.

“Maybe next time,” I told Alisa.

Zach visibly relaxed, which was a little bit insulting. It wasn’t dirty, it was just… busy. “I’ll meet you outside,” he said, practically leaving a dust cloud behind as he rushed for the front door.

Alisa suddenly became more animated, jumping to her feet and grabbing my arm. “You can’t dish to him before you tell us what happened!” she exclaimed, referring to herself and our third roommate, Michelle. “We’re your friends!”

“I’m not telling him anything,” I said, shaking my head, “There isn’t much to tell.”

Her grip on my arm softened. “Girl’s night later? Ice cream?”

“Maybe,” I said, though I doubted I’d be up for it.

I met Zach waiting outside his car just a minute later. “There’s a place right down the block,” I said, “We can walk.”

He nodded and motioned for me to lead the way.

“You looked good,” he said, a note of sympathy in his voice. “That dress you were wearing was fabulous. Truly. You were a knockout.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Keir’s stylist dressed me up.”

“Well, whoever she is, she’s a genius. Did you keep her number?” I had her business card, but I wasn’t sure how thrilled she’d be with a phone call from an online tabloid. “Don’t be tight-lipped, girl,” Zach said. “The sooner you spill all, the sooner the story goes away.”

“I hope you’re right,” I mumbled. We’d reached our destination—a tiny place called Cuppa Cup that sat between a tanning salon and a pharmacy in a grimy old strip mall. The girls and I didn’t exactly live in the best neighborhood, but it did have its bright spots. Cuppa Cup was one of them. The inside was much nicer than the outside—wood furniture, a blackboard menu, all very cozy and inviting.

Zach ordered our coffees, assuring me it was a business expense. I got us a table near the back, away from the window. Maybe I was being paranoid. I preferred the term “cautious.”

“So.” He sank into the chair across the table from me and smiled a bright and charming smile.