“And she’s got a record.” Thea, who’d been in the garden, talking on the phone, came back inside. “That last call was from one of my police contacts—Becca stalked someone before, back in high school.”
The publicist went to David, leaning into him as he slid his arm around her. “No charges filed, so it didn’t come up in a background check, but the victim called in once news of Becca’s arrest hit the media. Becca went at her with a broken bottle.”
Kit put both hands over her face for a second to get her breathing in order. “No charges?”
“The victim and Becca used to be best friends, and Becca had lost her dad not long before the incident.” Thea’s phone buzzed again. “Since Becca didn’t actually manage to hurt her and was leaving town anyway, the friend decided not to pile on the hurt.” Pressing a kiss to David’s cheek before she put the phone to her ear, Thea walked back out into the garden.
Noah held Kit close to him, as he had since it happened. “Thank God she’s off the streets and out of your life.”
Feeling sad for her friend but also angry and relieved it was all over, Kit just soaked in Noah’s warmth and listened to the others talk. Thea’s phone was going nonstop, the publicist popping in and out to keep them updated as comforting food smells filled the kitchen. One of Noah’s guitars inevitably ended up in his arms while David made do with a couple of utensils against various surfaces, and Abe clapped a rhythm as Fox sang one of their older hits.
It was just what she needed. Blissful normality.
Chapter 39
She slept that night in Noah’s arms under the starlit sky and woke to find him awake. “Did you sleep?” He’d held her in his arms through the night, made her feel so deeply safe, but she could tell his demons had been at him again. “Be honest with me.”
“Four hours,” he said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Pretty good for me.”
Rising up on her elbow, she brushed his hair off his face. “Hey,” she whispered. “There was a time when spending a night in your arms was a pipe dream for me. We’re doing it, making it.”
Noah flexed then fisted the hand of the arm he had under his head. “I just feel so goddamn pathetic sometimes.” The words were spit out. “I’m a grown man who wakes up shivering after a nightmare. What the fuck?”
Kit had that sense of flying without a chute again, stumbling her way through this. So many things she didn’t know, but one thing she did: she loved this man and he loved her. “I didn’t have nightmares,” she told him. “Thank you for keeping the monsters at bay.”
Some of the tension leached out of his body, the steely gray of his eyes softening. “You’re kinda cuddly in bed, Katie.” A hint of a smile. “I can’t move an inch without you following.”
She made a face at him. “You complaining?”
Squeezing her hip, he grinned. “Never. Cuddle up to me all you like. I can take it.”
Kit laughed and knew they’d survived this hurdle. “Come on. I’m starving.” She’d barely eaten last night, her nerves still jangling. “What do you say to waffles again?” Movie diet be damned.
“I say I make better waffles than you.”
“I say you’re right, so get moving.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Falling back a little on purpose just so she could watch Noah’s ass in the white boxer briefs that were all he wore, Kit smiled. For the first time since the stalking began, there was no weight of fear on her, no edginess. She felt light and free. And the fact Noah was with her, that he trusted her with his secrets? Yeah, that made everything better.
“We’re doing this,” she whispered again. “We’re making it.”
The next three nights were wonderful. The fourth was so bad Noah pushed her away and went inside to grab his guitar. She heard him plucking at the strands as she lay in bed alone—and she decided that would never work.
Getting up, she made them both coffee, then left him to his brooding—though not until after she’d kissed his sullen face. “I love you,” she said with another kiss. “Even when you’re a bad-tempered, surly rock star.”
Scowling, he didn’t say a word, but when she returned home around six that night after a shoot with the cosmetics company, it was to find an iPod waiting on her pillow. When she slotted it into her music system, Noah’s voice singing the haunting words of “Sparrow” filled the air. It made her cry and then smile, because she recognized the gentle beat in the background, the gritty voice that joined Noah’s on the chorus, the expert piano playing.