CHAPTER ONE
Axel
Iadjust mysunglasses and lean back against a lounge chair, grateful for the first warm, summerlike day in June in the Hamptons. Xander Kingston’s dog, Bella, sits by my side.
An extra pair of glasses lies on the table beside me. I pick them up and prop them over the golden retriever’s eyes. “There you go, girl. That’s better, isn’t it?” I pat her on the head, and she stretches out on the ground, leaving the glasses in place.
I tip my head up to the sky and close my eyes, enjoying the heat on my face. As a California kid, my first winter in New York was a huge adjustment. I moved here last summer when I became the drummer for the Original Kings and spent the first couple of months bunking at the lead singer Dash Kingston’s house.
I learned fast that the band is a tight-knit bunch, all living in Dash’s home. Until a baby scare with a groupie put Dash in need of a fake girlfriend to fix his reputation, and my sister, Cassidy, played the role.
Now Cassidy and Dash are married, having wed in front of family and friends this past winter. I rented a house nearby, as did Jagger, the guitar player, and Mac, the bassist. But all of us guys spend more time at Dash’s home studio or here at Xander’s than at our own places.
Xander complains about the fact that the band followed Dash’s lead, making his house our home away from home, but nobody believes Xander really considers us unwanted company.And Sasha, the famous actress Xander married this past spring, welcomes us, as long as we knock first.
Given the Kingston family’s dysfunctional background, courtesy of their now deceased father, the fact that four of the five siblings are settled and happy gives a guy like me hope that I’ll meet the right woman. I’m sick of the rock-star lifestyle, the parties after the shows, the groupies, and the drinking. At thirty years old, I want a partner for life.
And if I can’t find the right woman?
I open my eyes and glance down at the dog that doesn’t belong to me, giving her a long rub down her spine. “We all know the truth. You’re my girl, Bella, right?”
She lifts her head at the sound of her name.
“Quit trying to steal my dog’s loyalty.” Xander walks out of his house and joins me on the lounge chair beside me. “Why is she wearing my sunglasses?” he asks.
I figure the answer is obvious. “Because it’s sunny out, and I’m protecting her eyes.”
“Know where she wouldn’t be squinting? Inside. Because when I’m not home, that’s where she belongs.”
Xander gestures toward the house, and I shrug. “Sasha let me in and said I could relax by the pool, and you know Bella loves being with me.”
Xander rolls his eyes. “When you finally buy a house, make sure you have your own pool, okay?”
I ignore him much as Xander’s brother, Dash, would do and pick up my phone. Out of habit, I begin scrolling through my social media. I have fan pages on both Instagram and Facebook that I pay someone to run and post fan-engaging photos. But if a comment strikes me, occasionally I’ll answer. Otherwise, I leave it to the professionals.
I also have a private page from my teenage days that only friends, family, and old acquaintances can see. I don’t oftencheck out what the people I knew in the past are up to, and I don’t need social media to tell me what my sister and friends are doing. But I’m feeling nostalgic, so I begin to scroll through the friend page for the first time in ages.
Familiar faces are displayed in my timeline. Men I knew now have wives and kids, have just gotten engaged or married, or show off newborns in their arms. It stands out how different my life is from theirs.
One other thing stands out to me. “Jesus, these guys haven’t aged well.”
“What the hell are you looking at?” Xander asks.
I glance at my friend. “Facebook. Guys I went to high school with. Half of them are bald, and the other half have huge stomachs.” I shake my head and continue to scroll through the page. “The women look good,” I say more to myself than to Xander. “Do you ever go through yours? It’s like a blast from the past.”
Xander shakes his head. “No. Not a people person,” he pointedly says.
I chuckle and don’t take offence. Annoying Xander is like the band’s favorite pastime.
Another swipe of my thumb, and a familiar brunette catches my gaze. I pause. Gorgeous chocolate-brown eyes stare at me, eyes I remember looking into mine as I eased myself inside her. She wasn’t my first, but once I asked her out, she was my only.
I blink and continue to study her. Her face has filled out, but she is just as beautiful now as she was over ten years ago. More so, even. Dark brown hair flows over her shoulders, and a white fluffy dog that looks like a Samoyed licks her cheek as she grins for the photo. There couldn’t be a more perfect picture to capture the essence of Tara Stillman.
“Damn,” I say, making the screen larger so I can get a better look.
“What now?” Xander asks.
“Old high school girlfriend,” I say, not really focusing on Xander. Not when memories of her come flooding back, all of them good.
