Another Sky
Copyright © 2019 by JAYNE FROST
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Editing: The Novel Fixer
&
ellie @ My Brother’s Editor
Cover Design: Maria @ Steamy Designs, LLC
Proofing: Marla @ ProofingStyle
Interior Formatting/Design: Champagn Book Design
Photographer: Lindee Robinson Photography
Models: Nick White/Alexis Susalla
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Join the Tour
Playlist
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Chapter Sixty
Chapter Sixty-One
Chapter Sixty-Two
Chapter Sixty-Three
Chapter Sixty-Four
Chapter Sixty-Five
Chapter Sixty-Six
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Chapter Sixty-Nine
Chapter Seventy
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Jayne Said
Sixth Street Bands Series
About the Author
For Victoria
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Preaching the End of the World—Chris Cornell
Black Hole Sun—Soundgarden
Alive—Pearl Jam
Say Hello 2 Heaven—Temple of the Dog
Four Rusted Horsed—Marilyn Manson
Bitches Broken Hearts—Billie Eilish
Blackbird—The Beatles
Let Her Go—Jasmine Thompson
The Crow and the Butterfly—Shinedown
Bulletproof Weeks—Matt Nathanson
Watch Over You—After Bridge
Live Forever—Oasis
Don’t Let It Bring You Down—Annie Lennox
In My Life—The Beatles
Miles
Six years ago—El Paso, Texas
Paige shifted in my arms, and I was instantly awake. Tightening my grip on her waist, I held my breath.
One beat. Two. Five.
I didn’t need to look at the glowing numbers on the clock to know it was close to dawn. Soon Paige would open her pretty green eyes, brush a kiss to my lips, and then disappear.
It was a pattern. Our pattern. For years we’d been doing it. Friends with benefits. Though, at this point, I couldn’t really remember what the benefit was.
The sex, dumb fuck.
Not exactly true. Sex was the easy part. For both of us. The minute our band had signed our first contract, there was no shortage of ass. But by the time Damaged had reached superstar status, fucking strangers had lost its appeal. Paige was never that into it, anyway. And I was always into her.
What had started as a mutually satisfying arrangement now felt like some form of medieval torture.
For me at least.
There was a silver lining. Paige loved me. I never doubted it. But she made it clear—she wasn’t interested in a relationship.
Relationships never work out. And it would kill me to lose you. I can’t lose you, Miles.
It sounded good at the time. Until it didn’t. Until the ache that settled within me when she left my bed far outweighed the pleasure of anything we did in the dark.
“Stay,” I said as she brushed a kiss to the hard planes of my chest.
When she hesitated, I thought today might be the day. That moment when the dark and the light finally met. Melting into the pillow, I fisted the back of her hair as her soft lips glided up my neck.
“I can’t.”
My heart stalled, her words slicing through me the way they did every time she said them. Swallowing my protest, I let the pain sink deep, all the way to my bones. And in that moment, it didn’t matter that she was Paige Dawson and I was Miles Cooper. That we, together, were half of the hottest band in the country. Because this, whatever we had, was more important than Damaged.
Yeah, I’d made promises. Before we even began I’d vowed to never let anything jeopardize our friendship, and more importantly, the music. But all that flew out the window at the thought of facing another dawn without her.
Today might not be the day when light and dark reconciled, but Paige would give me some fucking answers.
Propping up on my elbow when she climbed to her feet, I flipped the switch next to the bed, flooding the suite with harsh light.
“Tell me why.”
She sighed, tipping forward and snatching her jeans from the floor. “I already did.”
Catching her wrist, I tugged her back down to the bed. “Not good enough. Things have changed. We’ve changed.” My thumb skated over her pulse point, and I felt her racing heart. “I’ve known you since you were fourteen. I love you, Paige.”
The truth had a beat of its own. A life. A cadence. I was in love with her. Always had been, if I were honest. And though I was relatively certain that she wasn’t looking for something else—something better—the door was open. Either we closed it for good and committed to each other once and for all or we moved on.
A deep crease formed between her brows as she searched my face. “I love you too.”
The desolation threading her tone was enough to break me. And for a minute we just sat there and let it press in on us. Instead of letting her go when she twisted free of my hold and stood up, I followed.
“I’m not your daddy, Paige.” I loomed over her, willing her to look at me. “You’re not going to wake up one day and find me
gone.”
She swayed as if I’d slapped her, then sank into the overstuffed chair where I’d been waiting for her when she’d slipped into the room last night. Her fingers skated over the cushion as if she remembered all the things we’d done in that very spot. “I’m not worried you’re like my father, Miles.” Lifting her chin, she met my gaze with sad eyes. “But that I am.”
The air punched from my lungs, and I took a step back. Then another. And all the while she watched me with an inscrutable expression.
Paige was nothing if not honest. And I wondered how many times it had crossed her mind, this distant future where she left me behind for another man.
But hey, we could still be friends, right?
I eased onto the side of the bed. “So I guess this is it, huh, sunshine?”
She didn’t say anything, just dressed while I stared at the patterns on the carpet.
I thought she might simply leave. That was her way.
But then she was in front of me, lithe fingers tangling in my hair. I willed myself not to lean into her touch.
After a moment, she whispered, “Have I ever told you the story about the sun?” I shook my head, and she inhaled a slow, controlled breath. “They say the sun loves the moon so much, she dies every night just so he can shine.” As she smiled down at me, a tear rolled off the end of her nose. “You’re my moon.”
My stomach cratered, and my arms encircled her waist. She let me hold her for a moment, then pressed a kiss to the top of my head and spun for the door. “I’ll see you at sound check, okay?”
Pausing in the foyer with her hand on the brass knob, she waited for my reply. My assurance.
“Sure thing.”
As she slipped out the door, shafts of morning light spilled onto the plush carpet. We’d finally met the dawn together. But in the end, Paige was right. I was the moon, and she was the sun. And we were never meant to share the same sky.
The door to the bus opened with a loud hiss, and I groaned. I’d managed to avoid Paige all day, even ducking out of the post-show festivities early. All I wanted to do was nurse my bottle of Jack in peace and lick my wounds. Alone. But I guess that was too much to ask.
“Miles…Are you in here?”
Paige’s voice floated to my bunk, her words slow and maybe a bit slurred. She’d been drinking too. Which was rare. Maybe she regretted our last conversation as much as I did. More likely though, she was just celebrating.
Pressing my lips together, I hoped she’d get the hint and go away. Because even if we ended up tangled in the sheets, the euphoria would be short-lived.
Tonight was our final show of the tour. And tomorrow we’d be home.
On the road, we could pretend. But whatever we had and whatever we were, it didn’t exist in Austin. It never had.
Footfalls echoed off the metal walls, and then I felt her on the other side of the flimsy curtain. “Miles?”
Flipping onto my back, I stared at the ceiling. “Yeah?”
“Do you want some company?”
Anger flashed red hot, boiling my blood, and I ripped the curtain back. Meeting Paige’s wide eyes with a stone-cold stare, I waited a beat before sliding my attention to the front of the bus. “Why? Did you bring someone who’s looking for a good time?”
It took a second for her to catch on. Then the column of her throat bobbed, and she swallowed hard. “You’re mad.”
I was. So fucking mad I could barely look at her. But I did anyway. And she was so beautiful. Hair all mussed and dark makeup smudging her eyes. My gaze fell to her mouth, stained crimson to match her hair.
Suddenly, she was sixteen again, standing outside her mama’s house with tears rolling down her cheeks because the douchebag who’d swiped her cherry hadn’t even bothered to show up to take her to our junior prom.
I was there, though. Ready to stand in. To stand up. To fill the space. Because that’s what friends did.
And the next day, I broke my hand when I beat the shit out of the guy who should have been there.
Come near Paige again, and I’ll end you.
Totally worth it.
My irritation fled along with the memory, and I swung my legs over the side of the bunk. Molding my hands to her hips, I pulled her between my knees and looked into her pale green eyes. “What am I going to do with you?”
Dragging her fingers through my hair, she smiled. “Love me.”
I did love her. I’d always loved her. Didn’t she know that?
Cupping her ass, I dipped my head and pressed a kiss to the exposed skin below her belly button. She tasted so good. Like fine whiskey. Smooth and warm, with just the right amount of burn.
Despite being a little drunk, I managed to slide her zipper down with my teeth. Hooking my thumbs in her belt loops for leverage, I gave the denim a tug, but got nowhere. “Do you paint these on, or what?”
Before I could pull her into the bunk and finish the job, her fingers closed around mine, halting my progress. “Someone’s coming.”
Muffled voices drifted through the open window. Tori’s and Rhenn’s. Our best friends. Bandmates. The two people we shouldn’t have to hide from.
Tightening my grip, I held her gaze. “So?”
A beat of silence, and then she gave me a nudge, stumbling out of my hold a second before Tori topped the stairs, Rhenn close on her heels.
“There y’all are,” Tori said brightly. “We were looking for you.”
Scowling at the happy couple, I grumbled, “Well, I guess you found us.”
Rhenn cocked his head, brown eyes darting from Paige to me. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Paige answered, a little too quickly.
I could see the wheels turning in Rhenn’s head, but before he could comment, Rusty, our driver, lumbered up the stairs.
Scratching his thinning mop of orange hair, he shifted his feet. “We’re all set,” he announced. “Y’all ready to roll?”
Rhenn clapped Rusty on the back, exuberant at the prospect of heading home. “Absolutely. Let’s get out of here.”
While the two men put their heads together to discuss the route, Tori foraged around in the small cupboard where she kept her secret stash of sweets. “I’ll make the sundaes,” she chirped.
Once everyone was occupied, Paige shifted her focus back to me and smiled softly. “I’m sorry. I thought we’d have more time.”
But we didn’t. All we had were stolen moments. And that wasn’t enough anymore. Retreating to my bunk, I picked up my pint of Jack and unscrewed the lid.
“I can come see you after we get on the road,” Paige whispered, worrying her bottom lip. “After everyone’s asleep.”
A consolation prize. Awesome.
I took a long pull from the bottle. “I think you’d better stay in your own bunk tonight, sunshine.”
Holding my breath, I waited for Paige to protest. To fight for me. For us. But she didn’t. Instead, she tipped forward and brushed a lock of hair out of my eyes. “Okay. I’ll see you in the morning.”
It came out like a question, and I snorted, because, where was I going to go?
Hurt flashed across her features, and she made to pull away. At the last second, I caught her wrist and pressed a kiss to her palm. “Sleep tight, sunshine.”
And then I rolled over, letting her hand slip from mine. For a long time, Paige didn’t move…just stood there, her reflection framed in the moonlight pouring in from the small window in my bunk.
You’re my moon.
The knot in my stomach unwound.
Paige may not have been able to give it all to me right now. But someday she would. We were bound together. Through music. And life. And love.
Her lips curved into a smile, as if she knew what I was thinking. That we’d be all right. Because this was bigger than us. Written in the stars. And there was no hurry. We had all the time in the world.
Present Day
Miles
Gravel crunched under the tires as my truck coasted
to a stop on the shoulder of the two-lane highway. Cutting the engine, I sank against the leather upholstery and looked out at the open field.
And for a moment, the thin veil separating then and now slipped away, and it was six years ago.
On my back beneath the smoke-filled sky, I’d waited for death to claim me. To put an end to the pain.
I was sure it would.
But then I heard the voices. First Rhenn’s—so faint it was nothing more than a whisper. And then Tori’s.
But not Paige.
Never Paige.
Shifting my gaze to the passenger seat, I almost expected to find her there. But the space was empty. Except for the sealed bottle of Maker’s Mark. Rich, amber liquid whispering promises of peace. Of oblivion.
Lies. All lies.
Because no matter what I drank or smoked or swallowed, peace eluded me. Tranquility had died in this field all those years ago. Crushed under the weight of twisted metal and drowned in the pouring rain.
Grimacing, I dug my fingers into the muscle on my thigh, right over the area where the bone had come through the skin. My leg had suffered the worst of the trauma. Broken femur. Dislocated knee cap. A spiral fracture to my tibia.
Maybe if I weren’t a drummer, it wouldn’t have mattered. But the injuries had silenced my beat. Sadly, there was no grave to mark its passing. No monument to the lost rhythm. Just this empty field.
I guess that’s why I always ended up here. In the place where the music died. Right alongside my best friend and my best girl.
Blowing out a breath, I stashed the bottle in the inner pocket of my leather jacket. Two stints in the psychiatric ward at Millwood, and I knew better than to dance this close to the fire. But I didn’t care. I wasn’t planning on drinking it.
Throwing open the heavy door, I braced a hand on the steering wheel and slid off the seat, making sure to land on my good leg. I didn’t bother with my cane. There was no need for pretense.
Not here.
As I waded into the dried brush, “Blackbird” blared from my phone’s speaker. Tori. I’d lost track of how many times she’d called.
And yeah, I got it. She was concerned.
Less than twenty-four hours ago, we’d been on stage at Zilker Park, capping off the biggest rock festival Austin had ever seen. A Damaged reunion. One last hurrah for the fans. And closure for Tori and me.