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REGRET - The Price of Truth: Everhide Rockstar Romance Series Book 4




  About Tania Joyce

  Tania Joyce is an author of contemporary and new adult romance novels. Her stories thread romance, drama and passion into beautiful locations ranging from the dazzling lights and glitter of New York, to the rural countryside of the Hunter Valley.

  She’s widely traveled, has a diverse background in the corporate world and has a love for sparkles, shoes and shiraz.

  Tania draws on her real-life experiences and combines them with her very vivid imagination to form the foundation of her novels. She likes to write about strong-minded, career-oriented heroes and heroines that go through drama-filled hell, have steamy encounters and risk everything as they endeavor to find their happily-ever-after.

  Tania calls Brisbane, Australia, home. She shuffles the hours in her day between family life and writing. One day she hopes to find balance!

  Visit: www.taniajoyce.com

  REGRET – The Price of Truth by Tania Joyce

  Published by Gatwick Enterprises 2020

  Brisbane, Australia.

  Copyright © Tania Joyce 2020

  All content and lyrics original works by Tania Joyce

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  All rights reserved. This publication (or any part of it) may not be reproduced or transmitted, copied, stored, distributed or otherwise made available by any person or entity (including Google, Amazon or similar organizations), in any form (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical) or by any means (photocopying, recording, scanning or otherwise) without prior written permission from the publisher.

  REGRET – The Price of Truth

  Everhide Rockstar Romance – Book 4

  EPUB format: ISBN: 978-0-6489905-0-5

  Mobi format: ISBN: 978-0-9945774-9-8

  Paperback: ISBN: 978-0-6489905-1-2

  Cover design by DesignRans

  Edited by Creating Ink

  Tania Joyce: www.taniajoyce.com

  To report a typographical error, please visit http://taniajoyce.com/contact-form

  Visit www.taniajoyce.com to read more about her books and to buy books online. You will also find features, author interviews and news of her author events.

  Keywords and subjects

  New adult romance, young adult romance, contemporary romance, rockstar romance, rock star romance, friends-to-lovers romance, slow burn romance, rock star wedding, roommate romance, celebrity romance, music romance, genre romance, coming of age romance, angst romance, on stage, music, lyrics, bands, life on the road, touring, life in the limelight

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  About Tania Joyce

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

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  REGRET – The Price of Truth

  Everhide Rockstar Romance Series

  Book 4

  by

  Tania Joyce

  For lovers of dreams.

  Chapter 1

  Lexi Mitchell tilted her head back and let the cool night air brush her skin. With too much vodka buzzing through her bloodstream, she swayed and strolled alongside her roommate, Hayden Moore. As they headed toward their West Village apartment, her ears hummed, still fuzzy from the blaring noise at Everhide’s rock concert and the deafening music at the after-party held in the hotel bar down the street.

  “That was one of the best concerts ever. Gem was amazing,” Lexi hollered into the night, blocking the chaos in her head. After Gemma’s kidnapping, Lexi had wanted to forget the fear of how close she came to losing her closest girlfriend. Vodka had helped, but it wasn’t enough. It hadn’t washed away the nightmares. It hadn’t numbed yesterday’s news of her dad announcing he was going to remarry or deaden the draining effort over lunch today dealing with her mom’s manic moods. If she could survive Thanksgiving tomorrow and make it through Christmas without more drama, the new year would have to be better than the past few months of hell. “It was so good to see her back onstage with Kyle and Hunt.”

  “They were so freaking awesome.” Hayden hooked his arm over her shoulders. “They put on such an incredible show.”

  Grabbing her hand, he twirled her round like a ballerina. The heel of her boot caught the edge of a crack on the uneven sidewalk. She tripped, stumbled and wobbled forward a few steps. She burst out laughing, so loud it echoed off the surrounding buildings in the narrow street.

  Hayden chuckled, caught her by the arm and helped steady her. “Are you okay?”

  “Absolutely.” Still giggling, she drew her shoulders back and straightened her woolen coat. “I could’ve broken my ankle.”

  “You shouldn’t wear such high-heeled boots.” Beneath the lone streetlight, Hayden’s steel-gray eyes shimmered with shards of silver, his grin totally contagious.

  She leaned against his shoulder, picked up her foot, wriggled and circled one stiletto boot out in front of her. “They are a bit of a health hazard, aren’t they? But they’re fabulous, and . . . I can’t afford new ones.” She might live in the West Village with Hayden, but their place was one of the cheapest apartments, on one of the worst streets. Their best friends were famous rock stars, stylists, models and actors, but their own make-it-rich-in-New York dreams hadn’t yet come true.

  “I’ll buy you a pair for Christmas,” he said with an assurance that caught her off-guard.

  What? He didn’t need to buy her anything. “Don’t be silly.”

  She went to step away, but Hayden hooked his fingers through her coat belt and pulled her back toward him. She spun her head, sending her curls flying, and met him eye to eye. The intensity in his gaze made her freeze. He took a step closer. His eyes narrowed; a stormy darkness swirled in their depths. Just like in the Maroon 5 song, she found it harder and harder to breathe. Why was he looking at her like that? He shouldn’t be looking at her like that. All daring, fevered and kinda smoldering.

  But she knew that look. She’d hooked up with enough guys to know what he wanted. It wasn’t going to happen. Her list of mistakes was lifelong. From being her parent’s mistake of a third child, for being the cause of their divorce, for wasting three years at college studying photography. She wasn’t about to destroy the best thing in her life. Hayden’s friendship was the one thing she wouldn’t risk.

  His dark brown hair flopped forward. Rubbing his hand over her coat sleeve, he let out a slow breath. “Lex?”

  Her heartbeat hammered faster. Faster. Faster.

  She was too drunk. Way too drunk. So was he.

  She wanted to run, but some magnetic force glued her feet to th
e ground. She tugged her arm free. “What are you doing?”

  A smile quivered across his mouth. He cupped the side of her face. “Something I should have done a long time ago.”

  “Hayd—”

  But it was too late. His lips crushed hers. Clenching her fists, every muscle in her body tensed. Every cell screamed. He was her best friend, had been since their first year at NYU. They’d been roommates for seven years. They gave each other shit. They were each other’s wingperson, sidekick, plus one, shoulder to cry on, and friend to call on when needed. They were always able to dump their dramas on each other, watch a movie with or hang out in a coffee shop. They told each other everything and talked about dates—the good, the bad, and the sex. But they weren’t into each other. They’d never kissed.

  Kissing was off-limits.

  She shoved hard against his chest and held out her hand to stop him. It hurt to draw breath. “Don’t do this. You promised.”

  “Shh.” He slid his hands around her hips and shuffled her back a couple of steps until she connected with the building’s brick wall. His jeans brushed against hers, his body pressed against her. A devilish grin curled the corner of his mouth. “I promised many things when we first moved in together. Not to tease you about the guys you brought home. Not to clean up your mess. Not to eat your mango ice cream. I’ve broken every one of those rules. And now I’m breaking one more.”

  Her eyes dropped to his lips and flicked back to his gaze. His broad shoulders formed a barrier, blocking her escape. This was dangerous territory, a path she’d sworn never to go down.

  He dipped his head; his mouth hovered an inch from hers. “Kiss me.”

  Kiss him?

  What the hell?

  She wanted to laugh, scream, cry, run. Placing her hand on his chest, she had every intention of pushing him away. Every intention. But vodka-infused adrenaline spiked through her veins. Her head spun from the intoxicating smell of beer on his breath and the hypnotic scent of his Prada cologne—a mix of sandalwood, cedarwood and every bit Hayden.

  “Lex.” Her name, rumbling deep in his throat, sent a jolt of electricity straight between her legs. Caressing the side of her neck, he leaned closer. “Please?”

  She closed her eyes. This was a bad idea. A huge mistake. This was trouble.

  He touched his lips to hers, gentle and warm. She dared not draw breath, dared her heart not to beat. With a flick of his tongue, he deepened the kiss and sent her into a spell-induced trance.

  Heat surged through her veins like steam through a fissure. Threading her fingers into his thick hair, she craved his taste. To kiss him harder. Longer. Deeper.

  So, so good, but so, so wrong.

  Grinding his hips against hers, he nudged her with his crotch. Crap.

  She squeezed her eyes tight, clutched onto his short hair. This kiss had gone too far. This was just some drunken foolery between friends. There was nothing to it. Right? They’d laugh about it over their morning coffee. She’d stop in just one more moment.

  “Get a room,” some guy walking on the other side of the street yelled.

  Her pulse skidded to a halt like tires on asphalt. A room? Shit. This had to stop. Stop. Stop. Stop.

  But oh . . . sweet mercy.

  Why couldn’t she form the words and scream them out loud?

  “Ignore him.” Hayden’s voice, hot and breathy, wisped across her mouth. He smiled, swayed and kissed her again.

  Each touch of his lips against hers smothered any logical, reasonable thought. Light as a feather, he glided his fingertips down her cheek, her throat and slipped them underneath her open coat. Tingles danced across her flesh. Her body shouldn’t be responding this way. Skimming across her knit top, his hand stopped beneath her breast. Tease. He circled his thumb over her nipple, the tantalizing strokes sending it into a hardened peak. Why does that have to feel so good? Her breath quickened; her head fell back against the wall. We really should stop . . . maybe . . . in a sec.

  He moaned against her mouth. His heart stampeded against hers. “I love you, Lex,” he whispered over their kisses. “So goddamn much.”

  He what?

  No. No. No.

  The spell obliterated and she fell back to earth with a crash. She shoved against his chest, forcing him back two steps. Tears prickled her eyes and she shook her head. He couldn’t have fallen for her. No way. She’d made it clear from the day they moved in together. She never wanted to fall in love.

  Love destroyed you. It corroded your soul until there was nothing left but an empty shell. Like what had happened to her when her ex, Quintin, had left. Like what had happened to her mother. And her father. Divorce hadn’t healed their broken hearts. Time hadn’t healed hers.

  Love sucked. Love died. Love wasn’t for her.

  Love wasn’t worth the pain.

  “No. No, you don’t love me,” she whimpered. “Don’t be stupid.”

  He shuffled forward, slipped one of her spiral curls through his fingertips, straightened it out and let it go. It sprang back into place. “It’s not stupid. Do you honestly feel nothing for me?”

  The agony carved into his voice was a crushing vise around her heart. She clutched both his hands in hers. “Of course I do. You’re my best friend.”

  “I want more.” His eyes searched her face as if he was hoping to find a lifeline.

  She had no rope to throw. “I’m sorry. I don’t feel that way about you. I’ll never feel that way about you.”

  Pain rippled across his face, drilling a deep furrow into his brow. He lowered his chin and nodded. “I had to know. Had to find out.”

  “By kissing me? You could’ve just asked.” Too much heat flushed her cheeks. The chill in the air made them hurt. She wanted the remnants of their kiss gone.

  “Where’s the fun in that?” He smiled, but no happiness touched his eyes. “I was hoping for a different outcome.”

  “I feel terrible,” she uttered as a cab zoomed down the street.

  “No. Don’t.” He shook his head. “Are you one hundred percent sure?” He peered at her from underneath his thick lashes. “Have you ever wondered, thought about, had any remote curiosity to see if we could be something more?”

  She searched deep inside her heart. The place she’d reserved for him could never be more than friendship. She wouldn’t fall in love again. Didn’t have the strength to face loss or loneliness, or have the life leached out of her body. Didn’t want to end up like her mother. “No, I haven’t.”

  He stuffed his hands into his duffel coat pockets, flicked his hair back. “You can’t keep people at a distance forever, Lex. We’ve all been hurt; it doesn’t stop us from trying again.”

  “Hayd, it’s not that.” It so was, but she needed to erase his disappointment.

  “I know you, Lex.” He splayed his palm across his chest. “It was stupid of me. I’m sorry. I should’ve known I wouldn’t be the one to win you over. If you’re certain, it makes my decision easier.”

  Her throat ran dry. “What decision?”

  “I’m gonna move.”

  The pain in her chest tripled, ripping and clawing at her ribs. “What?” she screeched. “Are you joking?”

  His shook his head slowly. “Nope.”

  “But you can’t.”

  “I have to.” His breath misted in the chilly two-thirty a.m. temperature. “The guys and I got a gig in Boston. We start at the end of January.”

  “Boston?” Her knees buckled. Luckily the wall was holding her up or she would’ve fallen to the ground. “No. No. No. Not Boston.” He’d been the drummer in his band, The Saylors, for six years, worked local gigs and events. They’d had one top one hundred hit three years ago but hadn’t managed to capitalize on its success. Shit. “What about your work here?”

  He shrugged a shoulder. “I’ll miss the studio. It’s kept me sane, helped pay rent. But the guys and I are tired of chasing gigs, waiting for another break. Nothing’s happened. It’s too competitive in New York. Too h
ard to get our demos heard. One hit has meant shit.” He scuffed a boot against the concrete. “Kyle, Hunt, and Gem have helped promote us, but we’re not as good as they are. We haven’t been able to capture the interest from any record company, so we’ve got to do it on our own. In Boston, we have a chance to earn some good money. We’ll save up and record another album. We’ve landed a decent booking agent, and we’ll hit the festival season next summer.”

  Her vision blurred as she stared at the taillights of a car cruising by, its wheels splashing through a puddle from earlier rain. ‘Boston’ kept drumming in her ears; nothing would drown it out. “But your dream was to make it here. Not in Boston. You hate half your band.”

  “We’re fine.” His gaze hit the ground.

  Yeah . . . she didn’t believe him.

  “The move will be good for us. Make us stronger. I just want to play drums every day for the rest of my life.”

  “You do that here.” She clutched and pulled on her scarf.

  “We need to try something different.” He lowered his voice; she could barely hear him over her crying heart. He toyed with a toggle on her coat. “I wanted you to come with me, take a chance on being more than friends.”

  “Go with you?” A lone tear escaped, catching on her cheek. “I can’t. My life is here. My job is here. I’m in the running for a promotion.” The opportunity to further her career at The Gourmet Reviewer magazine, move from restaurant reviewer and blogger to senior editor, was within her grasp. She wasn’t going to let that slip by.

  His glance skewered her to the wall. His jaw tensed like a tightrope. “Why do you even want it? I know the money would be great. You write brilliant reviews. But it’s not what you want to do forever.” Frustration cut deeper into his raspy voice. “When are you going to do something with photography? If you get that promo, you won’t touch a camera.” He placed his hand over his heart. “I’m going after my dream. When are you going to go after yours, Lex?”