Seaside Pictures Series Book 4
Autorzy
Rachel Van Dyken
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32,9K
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Andrew, a struggling musician, finds himself creatively blocked and emotionally adrift. When he meets Bronte, a single mother dealing with her daughter's health issues, he feels a renewed sense of purpose. As Andrew decides to stay in Seaside, Oregon, longer, he and Bronte navigate their growing attraction amidst personal challenges and family dynamics. Their journey is one of healing, love, and unexpected connections that could change their lives forever.
Chapter 1
Andrew
The music hadnāt died a natural death.
Sometimes, I wondered if my own bad choices had killed it.
So, when my bandmate looked at me a second time and asked if I was losing my shit, I simply shrugged, put on my sunglasses, and leaned back against the wall.
We had five tracks to compose.
Five tracks to record.
I was supposed to write at least three of them.
I had written the word āthe.ā
For no other reason than it was the only word I could think of that rhymed with huh.
Not that we needed a huh anywhere in the damn lyrics.
Itās just the only word that kept rolling around in my head. Huh, look at that; everyoneās happy but you. Huh, imagine that; our album went double platinum. Huh, amazing, you have everything you could have possibly ever wanted.
Except for your best friend fully back in your life the way he used to be.
All the bridges in LA you burned during your addiction.
And the only girl capable of putting a smile on your face.
The same pregnant girl who was currently sitting in Will Sutherlandās lap, my ex-best friend, co-lead singer of Adrenaline, and pain in my ass.
He was worse than a parent.
Like the father figure Iād never wanted.
Who wouldnāt leave me the hell alone.
He hovered as if heād had something to do with bringing me into the world, even though nine months back, heād threatened to take me out of it.
I stared them down.
And quickly looked away when Angelica Greeneās tear-filled eyes met mine.
I was the reason she was still sad.
Me.
Because every time she spoke to me, my throat felt like it was closing up; and every time he kissed her, I wondered if things would be different if I could change the past.
My mistakes?
Roads Iād traveled?
Taken because of my misplaced jealousy.
āDrew!ā Ty threw a drumstick at my face. āSeriously, we only have a few weeks down here before the second leg of the tour. You gotta have something in that notebook of yours.ā
I clutched the leather cover tighter against my chest. āThatās for me, not the band.ā
āSelfish ass,ā Trevor mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose as he stood and stretched then went back into the sound booth as if that was going to fix the problem. āYouāve been acting like you have a stick up your ass all day, and to think I was starting to wonder if you were the funny one again.ā
āIāve always been the funny one,ā I shot back with a bit of a grin and then rolled my eyes. āIām just exhausted. Itās not like weāre young spring chickens anymore.ā
āHey, speak for yourself.ā Trevor grinned.
āYou literally have ketchup on your shirt and another substance Iāve been spending the last hour trying to decipher.ā I pointed out, as the rest of the guys fell into laughter. āAnd youā¦ā I jabbed a finger at Ty. āā¦get to have twins in three months, so Iād stop laughing.ā
That shut him up, and then he got this dopey grin on his face that had me so jealous I had to look away, which meant my gaze was back to Will and Angelica and the way he gently touched her stomach.
āYeahā¦ā Will leaned forward. āā¦Iāll admit my back hurts more than it feels better.ā
āThatās the sex, moron,ā I snapped and then realized Iād just made a sex joke about them and wanted to crawl under the piano and saw off the legs.
Willās mouth quirked. āI think itās that and trying to keep everyone in line while still singing next to shithead.ā He smirked. āThatās you, by the way.ā
āHey, guysā¦ā Trevor ran a hand through his hair. āā¦Iām around fighting kids twenty-four-seven because the joys of parenthood donāt stop when you bring them on tour with your wife, so letās just break for today, all right?ā
Braden, one of my protĆ©gĆ©s, chose that minute to walk in, an extra pep in his step since getting engaged to his former life coach. He pulled a popsicle from his mouth and then jerked his chin over at me. āWho died?ā
āThatās it.ā I shot to my feet. āI need a break.ā
āWe were on a break!ā Ty felt the need to yell.
Everyone fell into laughter, me included.
āAll right, Braden, you can work on some of your own tracks since Iāve got the studio, and, Drew, if you could kindly find someone to help pull those drumsticks out of your ass, that would be super-duper.ā
āRoger.ā I winked. āHopefully, sheāll be hot.ā
āStay away from my mom, dick face!ā Braden yelled.
We all stared, and then I laughed. Iād been pining after her ever since our first meeting, but because I didnāt want my protĆ©gĆ© murdering me, I did the less fun and more creepy thing and ogled her when she wasnāt looking. I also tried to engage in multiple conversations that ended up with her staring at me like she couldnāt quite figure out why I was speaking. āYou do realize sheās only three years older than me, right?ā
āHe likes them old!ā Ty held up his hand for a high five; meanwhile, Braden looked as if he was ready to mow me over with the tour bus.
Trevor whispered under his breath, āI think thatās your cue to leave, bro.ā
āYup!ā I grabbed my guitar, shoved it in my case, and let the door slam behind me as I made my way into the dreary, salty ocean air.
It was raining.
Had been raining for ten days straight.
Seaside, Oregon, everyone!
I used to think this was a place people went to die or retire, or maybe just really embrace their depression. Instead, it turned out to be one of my favorite places in the world, to the point where I was spending more time on the off-season with my bandmates here than I was back in LA.
They were my family, after all. Even if we were still semi-dysfunctional, and it helped that another band of friends, AD2, lived here along with Zane Andrews, a guy I toured with and was alsoāsurprise, fucking surpriseāmarried with one kid and another on the way.
Iād lived the high life so long, literally, that the minute I got my shit together and jumped off the train, it was like Iād missed everything that was important about your twentiesāall the lessons. Instead, Iād made all the mistakes, and now that I was thirty-six, kind of felt like I had nothing to show for it except a shit ton of money, fame, and scars from my past.
So many scars. So much baggage I was sick from it.
With a sigh, I put in my earbuds, and the tracks Iād laid earlier buzzed in my ears. I just needed the right lyrics. I made my way down the boardwalk, careful not to make eye contact.
When you made eye contact, people recognized you.
And wanted pictures.
And pictures meant smiling.
And talking.
And doing all the other useless things humans did when they were impressed with what other humans did for a living and wanted to use it to brag on Instagram.
I was so over it today. I didnāt have the mental or physical energy to put on the mask and grin at someoneās expensive phone.
And feeling lonely, if I was being completely honest. All my bandmates had someone, and it wasnāt like I hadnāt tried. Hell, Iād even taken out Penelope, Tyās wife, before she gave me a firm no, put me in the friend zone, then promised to bother me forever until I found a wife who could actually put up with meāher words.
Maybe that was why I was complete shit at writing love songs.
The only love Iād ever experienced happened to me when I was in my teens then died a slow, painful death as I numbed myself with drugs, and now that I was in my thirties and touring again, while secretly trying to do a solo album, things just feltā¦
Stale.
That was the word.
Stale.
Like there was a path I was supposed to take, but nothing interested me enough to want to even take a step in any direction.
I dodged a group of girls as I made my way past the aquarium. Shrieks followed by whispers and then footsteps against the cement. I picked up my speed.
I was too slow.
A tap, tap, tap hit me in the back. āAre you Drew Amhurst?ā
I hung my head. I wasnāt like the rest of the guys. I didnāt do fake smile well when I was stressed, and Iād never been so stressed in my entire life.
Slowly, I turned on my heel and stared at the brave girl whoād approached. She couldnāt have been more than sixteen, pitch-black hair pulled back into a sleek low ponytail, and she had giant sunglasses covering her eyes. Her skin was flawless, her lips full. Huh.
Damn it! That word!
She looked vaguely familiar, but I couldnāt put my finger on why. Finally, I relaxed the breath Iād been holding and responded, āWhoās asking?ā
I smirked down at her then widened my smile as her breathing quickened. Most girls didnāt know where to look: my nose ring, earrings, lip ring, multiple tattoos decorating my arms and chest, or the blinding, albeit semi-fake, smile.
I always gave them time to figure it out.
āMe.ā She pointed to herself and then fidgeted with her iPhone. It had a pink case with a bunny on it. God, Iād never felt so old. āYouāre my favorite ā well, and my momās, though she would never admit it to your face. I was just wondering if I could get a picture?ā
Fuck. At thirty-six, I was almost extinct, wasnāt I? Her mom? The hell!
āDid you know that every picture someone takes of me steals another part of my soul?ā I said. What? It slipped! She had a bunny case! Calm your tits.
She gaped and then went completely pale.
I reached out and touched her shoulder. āIām kidding. Relax.ā Her body was warm and stiff beneath my fingers. I tilted my head at her while she nodded quickly.
āYeah, sorry. Itās just been a really hard day.ā
Somehow, I doubted she knew the meaning of the word hard with her designer sunglasses, Louis Vuitton purse, and acrylic nails, but I took her for her word and held out my hand. My black fingernails looked out of place against my long-sleeved white pullover, which was a completely random thing for me to notice and a little irritating, yet again reminding me that Iād been off.
She pressed the sleek phone into my hand, and I wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. Geez, she felt frail. I frowned a bit and then said, āSmile.ā
I took three shots.
Her smile was hesitant. I didnāt pull away right away but felt like I should say something. I hated it when girls were insecure; hated, even more, when they starved themselves to death to try to obtain the perfect look that was nearly impossible to achieve.
āYou should eat more,ā I said softly. āYouāll waste away if you keep it up, beautiful.ā
She stiffened even more. āYou donāt know me.ā
āAnd you donāt know me,ā I fired back. āNot really. I just want you to know, from one stranger to another, youāre beautiful the way you are.ā
Her other friend approached then, at least I thought it was one of her friends. She was taller, obviously older, with dark Prada sunglasses and curves that went on for days. āThanks for doing that. Itās been a hard day with the diagnosisāā
āMom!ā the girl snapped. āDonāt.ā
āDiagnosis?ā I repeated, my stomach sinking. And how the hell was this person her mother? She looked about my age, maybe a year or two older. Maybe. I couldnāt even tell. She was too damn beautiful for words. Why the hell did she look so familiar anyway? I couldnāt see her eyes, but I was instantly attracted, instantly wanted more.
The girl turned away quickly. āLetās go, Mom. Apparently, I need to eat more.ā
I felt that mom-glare all the way to my toes as she jerked off her sunglasses and eyed me up and down.
I nearly choked on my tongue. āMrs. Connors?ā
Had I just lost my frigginā mind? Was I imagining shit now? Or had I actually conjured the woman I was just thinking of? Like a crazy person, my gaze whipped to the girl and her friend and then back to Bradenās hot-as-hell mom, my mouth forming the word āwhatā but nothing coming out.
āSheās been in remission,ā Bradenās mom said with a hollow voice. āBut today the tests said it might have come back. They arenāt sure, butāā
āWhat can I do?ā I interrupted.
āI think youāve done enough for our family, donāt you?ā She didnāt say it as an insult.
Iād basically taken her son under my wing and made him one of the most famous stars on the planet. Iād toured with him. Iād helped him after thereād been a tragic shooting at his concert. I had tried to be his rock while his mom stayed home to take care of his two younger sisters. For all my fascination with her, Iād seen her maybe five times in the few years Iād known him, but every other time, her hair had been lighter and shorter. Amazing what darker hair did and, paired with those eyesā¦
I was drowning.
I know she was thankful that sheād been able to stay back and not worry about work while her daughter sought treatment.
His money provided them with everything.
And yet, money didnāt fight cancer, did it?
āShit.ā I hung my head and turned toward Bradenās little sister. āIām sorry. I wondered why you looked familiar. Amelia, right?ā
The girl shrugged. āYeah, but hey, donāt worry. Thereās a reason youāre my favorite. You saved us from having to throw dear Mom here on the street to sell her body. I mean, can you imagine?
āAmelia!ā Mrs. Connorsā face flushed bright red. āI would neverā I meanā¦ā She looked ready to pull out her own dark luscious brown hair. āLow blood sugar. We really should get goingā¦ā
āHey, wait.ā I grabbed Mrs. Connorsā arm. āGive me your number.ā
Amelia gaped between us, jaw dropped. āMom! Heās like super famous. Stop stalling! Use your wordsāā
āI have words,ā her mom snapped. āIām justā I donāt know if thatās the best idea withā We have to go.ā She turned on her heel and nearly sprinted in the other direction, apparently almost forgetting about Amelia, who stayed back with a smirk on her face.
āI know how this works.ā I crossed my arms at the sixteen-year-old. āI give you something. You give me your momās number. What will it take?ā
She didnāt even hesitate. āTwo backstage passes and a shout-out on your Instagram.ā
āSteep.ā I nodded and then held out my hand. āDeal, now give me her number.ā
She let out a shriek while her mom finally realized that sheād stayed back to talk to me.
Amelia fired off the number, and I typed it into my phone with a grin.
āHow old are you anyway?ā Amelia just had to ask.
āOld as hell, just like your mom,ā I said in a chipper voice and then, āthirty-six.ā
She beamed. āMomās thirty-nine, though she tells everyone sheās still thirty-five.ā
I glanced up at her mom, who was now holding her phone to her ear and glaring at us. āShe looks like sheās in her twenties.ā
āBelieve me, Iām aware. Every single one of my guy friends is in love with her.ā
āNo doubt,ā I whispered under my breath. āIs she dating anyone?ā
āOh, Iām sorry I canāt answer that question. You only asked for her number. Now you get to do the work, rockstar. It was lovely, by the way, doing business with you!ā
āHey, thatās extortion!ā I pointed out.
She just shrugged and shoved her Pradas back up on her nose. āNo, thatās good business.ā
āWell, arenāt you terrifying.ā
She did a mock curtsy. āThank you.ā
I shuddered. Iād dealt with enough teenage girls to last a lifetime. āYour momās waiting.ā
āBronte,ā she corrected me. āHer nameās Bronte. Use it.ā
I grinned. āWas that free?ā
āNothing in this world is free, Drew Amhurst. Nothing.ā With a giggle, she was walking back toward her mom, and I was smiling like an idiot after them.
Drew Amhurst.
They always said my full name.
Always.
I wasnāt just Drew.
I was Drew Amhurst.
THE Drew Amhurst.
This was the first time in a long time I actually felt good about someone full-naming me. I waved at Amelia and watched in fascination as Bronte turned back and then jerked away.
Iād only ever interacted with her when she was at one of Bradenās concerts and hadnāt even been aware that they were in Seaside at the moment. Did they live here now? Or were they just visiting Braden? And how the hell was I supposed to dig for information from him when heād rather bury my still-breathing body than give it to me?
I started walking slowly back toward the studio, my grin still in place. Maybe I wouldnāt leave for LA next week, after all.
Because something suddenly made me think that a little staycation was exactly what I needed.
