Chasing My Forever (Beaumont: Next Generation 3) - Page 81

Everything I thought would happen, did. Against my better judgment, I joined the band. I had an eerie suspicion that Alicia was out there, waiting in the wings and I was right. And I stupidly went balls to the walls into a relationship without knowing the person. Like, really getting to know her. There isn’t a damn thing about her that I can tell a single person. Not her age, not the town she’s from, and for the life of me, I can’t remember her last name. One would think that before they profess their undying love to someone and ask them to move in, all the vital information would be shared. Like, I don’t know, the fact that she’s engaged to someone else.

I’ve always been the cautious one, waiting in the background, assessing every situation and making informed decisions. I’m not rash when it comes to judgment, in fact, I barely give my opinion unless it’s needed, like when Elle was acting like a raging bitch to Ben and partying too much. I stepped in. It pissed her off, but the end result is that they’re both happy and living a life together in Malibu. Great, perfect.

All I wanted was the same damn thing my sisters have. I’m tired of being the third and fifth wheel, with them always looking at me like I’m missing something. And when I finally find it, what I’ve always wanted, it’s all built on lies. I don’t even know if anything she ever said to me was true. She lied about her name and most importantly about being engaged. Who the hell does that?

People involved with Alicia Tucker, that’s who. I should’ve sensed something was wrong. I should’ve seen the signs, but I was too busy getting my rocks off to realize that the woman in front of me, the one who told me she loved me, had skeletons in her closet.

One of them being Sofia. She lived with my half-sister for two years, and according to Sofia, Nola, sorry Eleanora, knew exactly who I was. She sought me out. She purposely put herself in my life to seduce me, and for what?

That’s what doesn’t make sense, no matter how many times I try to resolve it in my head, why would she seduce me? And why would she lie about Sofia to my sisters? None of this makes sense, and yet I can’t get over it, and it’s eating me up inside.

I crumble up the sheet music and toss it on the floor. I’ve spent every waking minute here in the studio, where I know Nola and my parents can’t get to me. I’m a coward and I’m hiding. I’m feeling so much rage inside, I’m afraid that if I see her, I will blow up, and I’ve had enough anger these past few days to last me a lifetime.

The door opens and in walks Ajay. Great. Just what I need. He sees the mess on the floor, bends down, picks up one of the many balls of paper and opens it. I set my eyes back on the next sheet of paper, looking at the bars as they mock me.

Up until now, writing has been my thing. My go-to when I need to get my thoughts down or relieve some stress, but since everything went down, I haven’t been able to make sense of the words. The amount of anger, the agonizing hurt and desperate longing I feel do not make for a good song. They make for an angry letter which I’ve written each night to Eleanora. Telling her how much she’s destroyed my faith in lov

e and humanity. Asking her over and over, what did I do to deserve this from her?

Sadly, the words never answer me back and unless I actually send the letter, I’ll never know. Of course, I could mail it, but that would mean I would need to know some important facts about her, like her last name.

“Shit, these are good.”

“They’re garbage,” I mumble in response to Ajay’s praise.

“You’re biased.” He comes over to the table with four or five different sheets and presses them out. He starts pointing to different lyrics, mixing them with others from the different pages, mashing them together to create a song. I hate it. I hate it because he’s right and it would be good.

“Damn, you should write more often.”

I scoff. “I’ve written most of the songs on our demo or haven’t you been paying attention?”

“No, I mean whatever’s going on with you now, this shit’s really good. Have you shown Elle? What about your dad? I could see Liam belting one of these out, but that might piss off Dana.”

I set my pen down and look at him. He’s excited, eager, and using a pen to mark the order of the lyrics. “Why are you doing this?”

He pauses and looks at me questioningly. “Because we’re bandmates.”

“I’ve been nothing but a dick to you. Do you know why?”

Ajay stands tall. “No. Elle just said that you’re reserved, that you keep to yourself. I figured it’s because you’re one of those intense musicians.”

“You were one of the reasons why I was so hesitant to join this group.”

“O-kay, did I sleep with your chick or something? Because that’s not how I roll.”

I shake my head, although I don’t really know the answer to that. “It’s my dad. He’s taken you under his wing, he’s helped you. I realize how incredibly selfish I sound, but we’ve had a disconnect, mostly over this band and when I was duped to coming in for the jam session, all I could see was him sitting side by side with you. You bonded over drumming and I was jealous.”

Ajay rests against the counter. His fingers dig into the side. He looks pensive, not angry. I’d be pissed, but I’m a loose cannon right now. “I don’t have a dad. I mean, I did, but he bailed when I was about three. Mom took off when I was six or seven, I don’t remember because I stopped caring. Lived with my gram for a bit until she died and then I just floated around between my friends until I graduated high school. Married my high school sweetheart, ditched her just like my dad ditched my mom.

“When I met your dad,” he pauses and shakes his head. “My world changed. I was earning decent money as a drummer, but it was your dad who really showed me how to play. The whole time, he would talk about you. Quinn this, Quinn that. I used to think, wow how lucky this Quinn guy is, and then I met you and saw how your dad looked at you. Man, you walk on water where he’s concerned.

“You know, winning that competition was the best thing that happened for me. It opened doors, led me here, but meeting your dad and seeing that not all men are shit bags when it comes to their kids, that’s what made the difference. I never had a positive role model in my life, until I met Harrison. I’m sorry if me hanging out with him caused you guys to have a rift.”

Now who’s a douche?

Me, Quinn James at your service.

I’m completely dumbfounded on what I should say, instead, I offer my hand, hoping he takes my peace offering. “I’m sorry,” I tell him. “It’s my own insecurities, not yours.”

Tags: Heidi McLaughlin Beaumont: Next Generation Romance
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