Kiss the Stars (Falling Stars #1)(11)

Fuck, what was I thinking, coming here? Could feel two worlds getting ready to collide.

“It’s been too damned long.” Could see the undercurrent of amusement riding through his expression, like he was all the way back to those days when our paths had first crossed. Back when Sunder hadn’t yet been discovered, and I was still banging away with a heavy metal band in the slums of L.A.

Wishing I was different then, too. Faking a life. Pretending to be someone I was not. I hadn’t known them all that well considering I never allowed myself to get too close.

Too involved.

A philosophy I’d applied to everything.

Until I’d fucked up worse than ever before.

Taken what never should have been mine.

Selfish.

Disgust swilled and warbled, and I pinned on a fake smile, convincing myself to sit tight and not bolt out the door.

Apparently, being in Los Angeles was fucking with my brain.

“Years,” I told him.

“You haven’t aged a day.” He patted my cheek, grinning like an asshole, sarcasm riding free.

“Fuck you, old man,” I said with a laugh. “Last I checked, you were older than me.”

Truth was, he looked better than he had back in the day. Healthier. Happier. Whole ton sappier, too. Guessed that was what love and marriage and all that bullshit did to you.

Didn’t negate the fact the guy was a badass.

A legend.

I mean, fuck, I was in a room full of them.

I let my gaze slide across the faces filling the posh office. Room decorated with oversized, dark furniture. The entirety of Sunder had gathered there and were waiting for me while the party raged in the main rooms of the house.

Sebastian Stone, or Baz, like everyone called him, and his younger brother, Austin.

Ash Evans.

Zachary Kennedy.

Last but not least, Lyrik West. My chest tightened when my attention landed on the guy, wondering what this was and what I’d gotten myself into.

I lifted my chin in a casual gesture. “What’s up?”

Lyrik pushed to standing from where he was sitting on the edge of the desk. “Glad you could make it on such short notice.”

He shook my hand and pulled me in for a clap to the shoulder. “It’s good to see you.”

“You, too. So, what was so important that you needed to get me out to L.A.?”

Couldn’t imagine my invite to this party came without ulterior motives. Not to mention the fact they’d sent a private jet to South Carolina to get me and had a chauffeur waiting to pick me up at the airport.

Pretty damned sure they wanted something out of this.

Lyrik angled his head to an empty chair. I took it, started drumming my fingers on the top of my thigh because I didn’t know much of anything else.

Sunder’s drummer, Zachary, better known as Zee, stood up from where he was hunkered in the corner. “Saw you playing with your band back in Savannah a couple months ago.”

I itched, glancing around, nothing but eyes on me. Whole point of taking up as the drummer of an unknown country band that only played dives in the south was the fact that no one would notice me. That I’d be an ocean away from those who might recognize me.

But then Carolina George had begun its rise.

“Have to say, your performance blew my mind. Not a whole lot of people can drum like you. Lyrik said he knew you, so we were able to track you down to bring you here. Truth is, drummers tend to take a backseat, blend in and just become a part of the background, and you might as well have been set up at the front of the stage.”

Unease churned through my being. Dude thought he was complimenting me when he wasn’t being anything but the bearer of bad news.

“Thanks,” I forced out.

Because what the fuck?

Sure, I knew most of the guys from way back when.

But we’d been little more than acquaintances.

Running the same circles.

The same backstage parties.

Bodies riddled with the garbage we pumped in our veins and snorted up our noses.

Then Sunder had hit it big. Their backstage parties no longer hosted in the dank, disgusting holes I’d been assigned.

When I’d fled Los Angeles three years ago, I’d never thought I’d see any of them again. Had nearly shit myself when I’d caught Lyrik’s eye in that small bar that night six months ago, and I’d been gone before he had the chance to track me down.

Like I could just pretend that he was hallucinating.

Making that shit up. Guessed Zee had noticed me at the same time.

I never should have gone to that audition. Never should have answered that fucking ad for a drummer. Thinking it would be cool. A cover. An outlet. One place to exorcise my demons. Or maybe where I could just let them come out to play.

Richard, the lead of Carolina George, had been all over the fact that I had a heavy metal background.

Loved my style.

Loved the vicious way I attacked the drums. Said he was searching for a drummer who could bring a different element to his band, and he thought that guy was me.

He had a vision of meshing country and rock in a way that had never been done before.

I should have known better.

But if I didn’t have music, I didn’t have anything, so what the fuck did I have to lose when I’d already lost it all?

A disturbance rumbled through the middle of me.