Stroke It - Brooke Page

Chapter One

Jet, present day

My thoughts were racing in a jumbled cloud above my head. I’d been strumming my guitar and scribbling on a notepad since three A.M. It could have been because I’d spent the previous day holed up in my hotel room in New York City. My band, Addicts Unite, had gone over a week straight with shows every night, and I needed the solitude, but it was beginning to mess with my head. I wasn’t a sit still kind of guy, none of us were.

I fiddled with the strings, frustrated I hadn’t perfected the melody I’d been working on the past few months. I knew not having the song come easily to me within the first few tries contributed to my stress, lord new I was a head case full of problems that fueled my insomnia, but I must finish this song within the next month.

It was for Maddie’s birthday.

And she didn’t deserve anything less than the best.

Resting the neck of my guitar on my knee, I reached for my coffee mug, sipping the now luke warm contents and gazing at the New York City skyline. I’d give anything for Maddie to see this, for her to be able to travel with me, but that just wasn’t in the cards for her.

I shuddered, goosebumps running along my spine when I recalled what had happened to her. It was the reason that kept me away from the prescriptions. You’d think all of the years of therapy at Seabrook would have done the job, but it was unfortunately the aftermath. The consequences of my actions were what broke the cycle. If only the outcome would have been damaging to me, and not to the most important person in my life.

My phone buzzed, the glow of the screen miniscule compared to the brightness of the big city.

Gunner: You up?

Yeah.

Three dots formed as if he were typing, but they disappeared, then a knock came on my hotel door. I didn’t want to answer it, but Gunner was my closest band mate, and maybe a break would help me refocus.

Bringing my guitar inside, I gently laid it on the bed and looked through the peep hole. Sure enough, there was Gunner with his traditional beanie hat and hoodie, hands in his front pouch pocket while he waited for me to open the door.

“What’s up?”

Gunner flew in and flopped down on one of the oversized chairs. “I just got back from the airport.”

I raised a brow. “I thought Cassidy was staying all weekend?”

He shook his head. “No, I flew with her to St. Louis, then came back.”

I squinted. “Dude, I thought you hated flying?”

He sighed, and let his head rest on the back of the chair, a satisfied smile spreading across his lips. “Not when I’m with her.”

I smirked knowingly. “Did you finally join the mile high club?”

He rolled his eyes, but his grin widened.

I laughed. “Someone is pussy whipped.”

“Maybe, but it sure feels amazing.”

I shook my head and sat on my bed, leaning against my headrest. “Did you come in here to swap fuck stories?” I asked, knowing damn well he wouldn’t talk details. He wasn’t one to kiss and tell, at least not when the girl meant something to him. “Or did you just miss me?”

He shook his head. “Sebastian wanted me to talk to you. He called me while I was flying.”

I ground my teeth and grabbed my guitar, letting it rest on my lap. Sebastian, our manager, knew I was furious with him and practically bit his head off. He was bringing in the rising pop star, Raina Skye, who only causes drama, last minute to perform with us, was a crock of bullshit. I even looked through our contract to see if there was any rebuttal against it, but I couldn’t find anything.

Gunner leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees. “He’s worried about how you’re going to treat Raina.”

My cock twitched at the sound of her name, and I hated its betrayal.“He should be fucking worried,” I seethed. “She told the press that we were a couple. I hang out with her once, and it wasn’t even a date. Literally ran into each other at the club, then the next day she’s giving paparazzi exactly what they want to hear. ”

“Yeah, I know, but she retracted that statement a few weeks after.”

I held my guitar close to my chest. “Doesn’t matter,” I grumbled.

“I know it doesn’t, but we need to try this. It could be a