Steady Beat (10 page)

Noah stepped toward her. “Pepper, please let me—”

She took a step back, confusion pulling at her forehead. “You have no idea how hard it was for me doing this today, singing.” She laughed. Noah’s stomach knotted at the mirthless, self-deprecating sound. “I’ve been trying to tell you I’m chronically shy. Cripplingly so. To actually come here today and sing in front of you all was a monumental achievement for me. You made that possible by being you, by being so wonderful and funny and warm and friendly and goddamn it, I
want
to sleep with you more than I should admit, but I need to know I can be a part of this band on my own, not as the woman you just so happen to be sleeping with.” She caught her bottom lip with her teeth again, her eyebrows knitting. “Does that make sense? If you let me do that, if you can understand that, then I promise I will be the most amazing replacement for Nick Blackthorne imaginable.”

Noah raked his hands through his hair, his stare dropping to the space between his feet. He gripped the back of his head, scrunching his face up. Deep in his chest, his soul, the thrumming of his body awakened by Pepper, beat faster. He didn’t just want to have sex with her, although that sure as shit was a part of it. He wanted to be with her. Discover everything about her. How could he do that if she held him at arm’s length?

Raising his attention to her again, he let out a short breath. “I get it,” he said. And he did. She didn’t believe in her worth, and wondered at her right to be here with the band. He had to give her—and Samuel, Jax and Levi—the chance to see she did have that right. “No sex. Not for a few months.” He held up his hand when she began to protest. “I’m not saying no sex ever because that
is
bullshit, however, I
will
agree to no sex for a few months. But will you at least let me
kiss
you? One last time?”

She didn’t answer. Not for a long moment. And then, her cheeks filling with a delicate pink tinge, she nodded.

Noah didn’t hesitate. He stepped closer to her, cupped her face in his palms, and brushed his lips over hers.

Chapter Five

“How long has it been now?”

Pepper looked up from the sheet music spread out on the bed in front of her to scowl at Frank where he hovered in the doorway. “Two weeks. I wish you’d stop asking. You’re making me nervous.”

Frank pulled a mock pout. “Who else is going to keep you on track if not me?”

Pepper snorted. “I’m on track. Do you see the music?”

With a dramatic huff, her roommate crossed to the bed and flopped onto it face first, sending the sheets of paper flying. “Frank!”

Frank twisted onto his back, threaded his fingers behind his head and grinned at her. “Two weeks and how many times has he called?”

Pepper rolled her eyes. “Every day. Now go away. I’m trying to figure out what key to sing ‘Gotta Run’ in.”

The day after she’d sung in the converted brownstone in SoHo, Noah had called to say the band was flying out of New York. Each had other commitments to deal with but they would be back ASAP. Pepper had done her best to ignore the pained disappointment in her heart at not seeing him, even as she’d reminded herself that was for the best. Still, she hadn’t expected him to call her as often as he had. She also hadn’t expected to like it as much as she did. He was making her decision to keep their relationship platonic difficult to stick to, that was for certain.

“Every day,” Frank went on as if she hadn’t ordered him out of her room. “Noah Holden has called you every day, no matter where he is in the world, just to talk to you.”

“Yes.” Pepper nodded, trying in vain to snare the first page of Nick Blackthorne’s raw song of lust and regret from under Frank’s butt. “Just to talk to me.” She tried to suppress the tingle of excitement at that fact but had little success. Fourteen days of talking to Noah about everything and anything was hard to be indifferent about. Especially when they had so much in common.

It didn’t help that she was beginning to wonder if the whole singing for the band thing had really been singing for Noah. Now he’d heard her sing she was wondering if she really
did
want to sing for anyone else. If she wasn’t a part of the band, she could be with Noah in every way he wanted. Every way she wanted.

But then was that just her trying to justify wimping out? Again.

Frank wriggled on the bed. “Remind me again where he rang from last night?”

“Toronto. Where he was attending his brother’s wedding. Now will you go away?”

“So he rang you from his brother’s wedding to tell you what?”

Pepper shoved Frank onto his side and plucked the page she needed from the bed. “To ask what I thought about the announcement of the director of the new Star Wars film.”

“Ahh, important stuff.” Frank nodded with solemn seriousness. “And did he happen to mention when you would be singing with the band?”

Pepper swallowed. Why
was
she beginning to question if she wanted to do just that?

“When they’re all back in New York,” she answered. “Samuel’s got commitments with the Boss’s tour, Jax is having meetings with the film studio in L.A. and Levi is…” She paused, frowning. Actually, she didn’t know what Levi was doing. She tried to think of what Noah had said last time he mentioned the bass player. He was having trouble finding someone. Pepper still didn’t feel confident enough to ask him for more details. “Doing stuff,” she answered, giving Frank a pointed expression.

“So when they’re all back in New York you’re singing with them? The next stage of the audition continues, yes?”

She nodded.

“Until then, you talk to him every night?”

She nodded again. “Yes.”

“And you’re not running out of things to say to each other?”

Pepper frowned at her roommate. “No.”

In fact, the opposite was true. With every conversation they shared on the phone, she was discovering she and Noah had more and more in common.

For one, Noah was a Star Wars geek. In Pepper’s opinion there were no greater films. Well, the original trilogy, not the woeful prequels. For another, they both loved Stephen King books, hot dogs from Crif Dogs on Saint Marks Place and wildlife documentaries. A week ago, Noah had her in stitches with his recount of meeting the famous wildlife cinematographer, Sir Addison Lancaster, at Nick Blackthorne’s wedding. He’d described for her, in minute detail, his abject terror at discovering his fly was down as the British knight was introduced to him. “I don’t wear underpants, babe,” Noah had pointed out, his grin clear in his voice even through the telephone connection. “And my jeans were a tad snug. Suffice to say, Sir Lancaster wondered aloud what kind of hairy animal I was keeping down there.”

They’d also spent hours talking music. His knowledge of all genres amazed her. Classical, country, folk, indie-pop, he seemed to know something about them all. He jumped from composer to arrangement to recordings, rarely staying on one subject for long before his mind took him to another. It was like having a conversation with a tornado blown in from a musical database, and Pepper loved it. His enthusiasm for everything was infectious, and it hadn’t taken her long to grow addicted to it.

The only time they’d disagreed was when his ex-girlfriend declared in an interview with
US Weekly
magazine that she still loved Noah very much and had no clue he was having an affair behind her back. Pepper was mortified. Noah just laughed. “Heather’s just trying to get attention,” he’d told her. “If she doesn’t stop soon I suspect my agent will release images of
her
making out with our dog walker. I know he’s got some nice ones captured around Christmas. It’ll put Heather firmly in her place. He never really liked her. Neither did the guys, come to think of it.”

Pepper’s heart had ached at the accepting censure in Noah’s voice as he spoke of his ex. There was no doubt he blamed himself for the failing of their relationship. She could hear it in every syllable. When it came to placing blame on oneself for failure, Pepper was an expert.

That conversation had taken place almost two weeks ago and, just as Noah predicted, images of Heather and a man walking a large dog soon appeared in all the gossip magazines. Whatever Heather had hoped to gain by labeling Noah a cheating bastard, it was lost the moment the first mag went on sale.

“Told you so.” Noah had chuckled, the sounds of carpentry work in the background. “Now tell me, should I have ten rows of seats in my home theatre, or twelve?”

Two weeks later and Heather’s name hadn’t been mentioned again. Everything else though… Pepper didn’t think there was a topic they hadn’t covered. And agreed on. If she was to let herself believe in fairytales, she’d believed she was living one—she the shy princess trapped by the ghost of a wicked mother, Noah the playful, energetic, vibrant slayer of demons who sets her free.

And makes her hornier than she’d ever been.

Not quite as PG-friendly as the average fairytale, she had to admit.

“So—,” Frank wriggled again on the bed, his eyes sparkling, “—if I was to ask how many times you’ve masturbated to the thought of him, you’d say…?”

Heat flooded Pepper’s cheeks. Her belly clenched. Her nipples pinched tight. Goddamn it, even her pussy throbbed at Frank’s ludicrous question. She’d masturbated
every
night to the thought of Noah. Sometimes twice. Every time they ended a conversation she’d found herself so damn horny she had no other choice but relieve the tension the drummer created in her body. “None of your freaking business,” she answered, all too aware the blush in her cheeks gave her away.

Frank laughed. “Thought so. And if I was to tell you he was waiting in the living room right now? Listening to everything you’ve been saying?”

The bottom fell out of Pepper’s stomach. She stared at Frank, her blood roaring in her ears. “Are you serious?”

Her roommate flashed his teeth at her in a devilish grin. “I am.”

“He is.” A familiar voice with its delicious Australian accent sounded from the doorway. Pepper damn near gave herself whiplash turning to look at the owner of that voice.

Noah leant against the doorframe, his long, lean legs encased in exquisitely cut dinner-suit trousers, a pale-purple shirt doing little to hide the perfection of his upper body. The top two buttons were undone, revealing a hint of the Australian star constellation tattooed above his heart. A black bow tie hung loose from his open collar. His hair fell about his forehead and ice-blue eyes in a harried mess, as if a brush or comb hadn’t touched the glossy strands for days.

He looked, quite simply, gorgeous.

And here. Right here. In her apartment. One step away from being in her room.

Oh God, Noah Holden was one step away from being in her bedroom.

Frank smacked her hip with the side of his hand. “Where are your manners, Ms. Kerrigan? Say hello to our guest.”

Pepper opened her mouth and then closed it straight away.

“I thought you two talked all the time?” Frank said.

Noah laughed. “She’s saving her voice for tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Pepper croaked. Damn, when had her pulse decided to behave like a maniacal frog in her throat?

Noah nodded. “Strings touches down in New York in about an hour, Jax is flying in tomorrow morning and Levi arrived yesterday. We’re all here. Which means you get to sing with us tomorrow. Ready?”

Pepper shook her head. Her heart hammered faster.
Tomorrow? Do I really want to anymore?

Frank laughed.

Noah grinned. “Don’t believe you.” With a slight shift in weight, he pushed himself from the door and ambled into her room, his gaze holding hers.

He stopped at the side of the bed, his shins brushing the duvet, his lips twitching as he looked down at her. “Now I’m afraid I’m going to have to kiss you. If that’s okay?”

“That’s my cue.” Frank leapt up from the bed, damn near sending Pepper tumbling sideways. “I promise I won’t take photos through the crack in the door.”

He hurried from the room, leaving Pepper alone with Noah.

She stared up at him.

He smiled down at her. “Can I? Kiss you, that is?”

She swallowed down her heart, merrily trying to thump its way out of her body via her throat.

He bent at the waist enough to bring his head closer to hers. “It’ll be a platonic one, I promise. Like the last kiss I gave you.”

Pepper’s belly fluttered at the memory of his barely there kiss in the converted apartment building fourteen days ago. Her sex joined in the fluttering. So did her pulse.

She licked her lips, her mouth dry. “A platonic one.”

“A platonic one,” he agreed. “Mind you, it’s going to be hard
not
to kiss you like mad. Especially when you look so bloody hot sitting there in your undies.”

Dawning horror slammed into Pepper. She slapped her hands to her mouth, the realization she was sitting on her bed in a pair of black panties and a size-too-small Guns N’ Roses tank top shattering her stupor. “Oh God,” she burst out, spinning to bury her face in the silken softness of her duvet. “Oh God.”

Behind her, Noah laughed. “No, no, no. No hiding allowed.” He wrapped strong hands around her hip and shoulder and, despite how much she tried to stop him, he rolled her onto her back.