Page 5 of Embracing the Beat
WEST
Ibolt upright in bed in the pitch dark. A quick glance at my alarm clock tells me it’s almost three in the morning.
“Ugh. Abbott, go back to bed. First day of school tomorrow.” I adjust my pillow a little too harshly, then flop back down.
I thought as a teacher, the first day jitters would dissipate. Blame the hormones of youth. Whatever. Turns out, I’m still anxious about school starting tomorrow. Granted, it’s my first day at a new school, but even after seven years of teaching at the same school, I had still been a little nervous the night before every first day.
I’m almost asleep when a thud downstairs has me sitting up again. It’s not Dan or Kelly—they left for a three-week cruise on Saturday. What the hell is going on?
I toss on a pair of pajama pants and grab my phone before creeping downstairs, automatically avoiding the one tread that has squeaked since Sawyer and I would sneak out as teenagers.
The light in the kitchen is on, the sound of the coffee maker loud in the otherwise quiet of the middle of the night. I squint at my phone again to see if I have any missed texts. Maybe Sawyer planned to stop by his parents’ house. Nothing. But he wouldn’t think twice about not sending a text either.
My palms are sweaty as I ease across the living room toward the kitchen doorway. I blink against the bright overhead lights. Turning in the direction of the coffee maker on the opposite counter, I brace myself for either a burglar or my best friend—I’m not sure what to expect.
Certainly not the cascade of honey-colored hair falling halfway down a light pink hoodie.
“Mikey?” I croak, my voice raspy with sleep.
She gasps and spins away from the counter.
“West?” The confusion on her face would be adorable if it wasn’t the middle of the goddamned night.
“What the hell are you doing here at”—I glance at my phone—“two fifty-two in the morning?”
“I live here,” she retorts. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here.”
Mikey moved out eighteen months ago when she signed a record deal. I may have been living in Pittsburgh at the time, but I was so fucking proud when Sawyer told me the news. For months, I listened for her songs to be played on the radio before my own world imploded.
“Why are you living with my parents?”
“I just moved back. Ashley and I split up.” Good riddance. “That doesn’t explain why you’re here—why the hell are you making coffee at three in the morning?”
“You moved back?”
I rub a hand down my face. I need to wake up some more if we’re going to hold a coherent conversation. “Yes, about two months ago.”
“You’re living with my parents?”
Failure is a bitter pill that sticks in my throat.
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“I—” The thought of telling her the truth—that I can’t afford an apartment on my salary when she’s a famous rock star—burns. But I’d rather suffer through that than tell her some bullshit story. “Apartments here are expensive. I need to save some money. Your parents wanted some work done. So they offered to let me stay here in exchange.”
“Work?”
With a sigh, I lean against the counter, crossing my arms over my chest. “I redid their bathroom. Now that they’re gone on a cruise—”
“They went on a cruise?”
Her question pisses me off. Sawyer said Mikey was busy with a tour, but does she talk to her family at all? Dan and Kelly have been planning this anniversary cruise for the last six months.
“Jesus, don’t you talk to your family?”
