"Noah's song."

Tension spiked through me. "It's going fine. Great, even. He's working hard on it."

"I hope he isn't giving you too much trouble with your consulting." He stressed the last word, giving me an oddly penetrating look.

He knew. August definitely knew I was writing the song for Noah. Did he know we'd had a fight? Maybe August knew everything that went on in the band.

"Noah's not too bad once you get to know him." I was lying through my teeth of course, but I didn't want to bad mouth August's fellow bandmate in front of him.

"If you ever need help getting through that thick skull of his, let me know."

"Actually..." I wondered whether I should tell August what happened. The thought of confessing our sexual escapades and subsequent falling out was embarrassing enough that I found myself flushing. No. No one could find out about that. "We had a bit of a misunderstanding. I'm trying to find him so I can clear things up."

"Please be patient with him."

I blinked. "Patient?"

August nodded. "He can be difficult to work with."

I choked back a snort. "I've noticed."

"Like I said. If you ever need any help."

"I'll remember that. Thank you."

The rest of the mansion was as full with people as the front rooms had been. I had to tiptoe around drunk people and duck to avoid flailing limbs. When I finally found the back entrance to the pool, my dress was spotted with splashes of beer and smears from sticky fingers. I was glad I hadn't worn white.

I found Noah sitting out back, slumped over on one of the stone-carved benches. He leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees and a beer in one hand.

"Hey," I said tentatively.

He inclined his head a fraction of an inch, not meeting my eyes.

"What?" he said flatly.

I flinched, but steeled myself. "I thought we should talk about what happened."

"Nothing happened."

"Are you really going to pretend that we didn't..." I looked around surreptitiously, making sure no one could overhear. "Pretend we didn't spend weeks having sex with each other only to have you throw me out during our first fight?"

"Nothing. Happened." He stressed each word carefully. Probably wanted to forget all about his temper tantrum. Maybe he also wanted to forget about the rest of it, too. The thought made my heart clench.

"Fine. If that's how you want to play it. If nothing happened, then that means there's no reason why we can't continue working together as adults."

"Right."

"Okay." I stood there, fuming. "Then I guess I shouldn't mention that song you were playing when nothing happened."

He glowered at me. "What about it?"

I folded my arms across my chest like armor. "I liked it. I think you should use it."

"Use it how?"

"Use it for your album. That should be your song."

"No."

I raised an eyebrow at his curt reply. "Why not? It's good. Better than anything the two of us have been able to come up with."

"The stuff we've come up with has been fine."

"Do you want your song to sound fine? Or do you want your song to sound like Noah Fucking Hart?"

"That song sounds nothing like my style."

"It sounds more like your style than you know."

"Because you know me so well," he snarked.

"Are we really going to get back into this? As far as I've been able to tell, I'm the only person who's gotten this close to you in a long time. If I can't tell what's a Noah Hart song and what isn't by now, then I should be fired."

"Fine. You're fired."

"You're hilarious." I took a seat next to him on the bench. "You said the song was old. Was it something you composed a long time ago? Before you were with the band?"

"Why do you care?"

"Humor me."

He grunted. "I've been working on it off and on for years," he said grudgingly.

"So it's not something you wrote because you knew it would sell?"

"Lily liked it when I played. I came up with stuff I thought she'd enjoy."

"My mom liked it when I played, too," I said quietly. "I used to wonder if it was the only thing that kept her from-" I cut myself off sharply.

Noah stared at me with sharp eyes.

I avoided his gaze. "Anyway. If it's something you composed for your sister, I think your fans would like it, too."

"I don't know."

"You don't know if you want to expose that much of yourself to the world?" I guessed.

Noah shot me a dark look. "Always think you know everything," he muttered.

"You said you only wrote your songs because they were marketable, but I don't think that's true. You wouldn't have been able to touch so many people's hearts if you hadn't put something of yourself into them."

"And did I touch your heart?" he mocked. "Did my words speak to you?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "You know, at first, I couldn't reconcile the Noah Hart I knew from those lyrics with the Noah Hart I'd met in person. But those two men aren't so very different."

He snorted. "Right. Now that we've been fucking for weeks, you're starting to think I really am that passionate, romantic poet you crushed on as a teenager?"

"I've gotten to know you, Noah," I said, exasperated. "You act like an ass sometimes, but you can also be sweet. Thoughtful. And I think if you used that song, your fans would get to know the Noah Hart I've gotten to know."

"And what makes you think I care about my fans getting to know me?"

"You don't have to be scared of showing people the real you."

Noah stood from the bench with a growl. "You don't know anything."

"I know you had a bad childhood. I know that your sister got hurt and you feel like it's your fault."

Noah's face was dark and clouded over. He looked like he was biting his tongue. I pressed on.

"I know that you were betrayed once by people you trusted. I know that's why you don't let people in. But you don't have to be afraid. You can open up to people. You can open up to me."

He clenched his fists. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"You think I don't get it? If you opened up once in a while maybe you'd see that you're not the only one who's experienced pain."

"You think you understand?" His eyes burned with resentment. "Poor Jennifer. Her mom was sad all the time. What a terrible childhood."

Anger rose in my chest, pushing down the devastating pain his words had caused. I clenched my fists so hard they shook, resisting the urge to punch him. "You can be a real jerk sometimes, you know that?"

"You say this like it's new information."

"I'm just trying to help you. If you don't stop acting so pissy-"

"Who says it's an act? This is how I am." He put his back to me and brought his beer to his lips to take a swig of his beer.

A storm raged through my chest. I wanted to punch something. Kick something. Namely, Noah.

"If that's how you're going to be, then fine. Feel free to wallow in your unresolved guilt issues forever. Finish your goddamn song on your own."

I turned on my heel. I waited a moment to see if he would stop me.

He didn't say a word.

I stormed away, blinking back tears.

Chapter Nineteen.

"Hey there gorgeous, where you going in such a hurry?"

I stopped on my way out the door, eager to leave the party, only to find Cameron Thorne laughing with the twins, Damon and Ian Drake. I didn't necessarily want to talk to them, but now that they'd seen me I couldn't be rude and ignore them.

I made my way over with my rumpled, beer-stained dress, frazzled hair and tearstained cheeks, trepidation rising in my chest.

As soon as I approached them, Cameron was immediately concerned. "What's wrong? Are you crying? You should be creaming in your panties at the chance to party with rock stars."

I resisted the urge to sniffle and wiped at my cheeks with the back of my hand, getting rid of the evidence of my tears. "It's nothing."

"I can guess why you look so upset. It's because of Noah, isn't it?" Cameron looked pissed. "I've said it a million times. That asshole doesn't know how to treat a woman."

"But you do?" I shot back.

Cameron's eyes narrowed, an evil expression on his face. "Hell yeah I do. I can show you personally if you like." His bright red hair fell over one eye, turning the evil look sultry. As tempting as it was, I knew better than to encourage a man like Cameron Thorne.

"That's okay," I backpedaled. "I'm good."

"Is His Royal Highness giving you problems?" one of the twins asked.

"I always liked that nickname. I've just been calling him Mr. Cranky Pants."

The twins laughed uproariously. They both wore light blue jeans with identical rips and matching Metallica t-shirts. Even this close, I couldn't tell a single difference between them.

"Holy shit," one of them chuckled.

"That's genius," the other continued.

"He'd kill us for calling him that."

"All the more reason to do it."

They smashed their drinks together in a cheer.

"Best way to get over the guy who broke your heart is by getting under another one." Cameron handed me a beer with a lecherous grin. "I'm happy to volunteer as tribute."

"We're not-! He's just-" I pressed my lips together, not wanting to go into it with them. "Did you just make a Hunger Games reference?"

"Hey, Katniss is hot. Even Damian agrees," Cameron added, using the twin's portmanteau name. I supposed even Cameron couldn't tell them apart, treating them as one entity like the rest of the world.

"Cam's right," one of the twins said as the other nodded in agreement. "We'd fuck Jennifer Lawrence every day of the week."

"Is that the royal we?" I asked.