Fight Song (Rocky River Fighters 3)

But Ian was the second person to bring it up, and halfway through her shower, she was struck with the burning desire to ask Jax. Her grandmother saying things might not have been as they appeared was one thing, but hearing it from Ian was a whole different kettle of fish. Ian and Jax were close. They’d been friends back in high school, and they appeared even closer now. If anyone would know about this, it was Ian.

And maybe some of it was the fact that she and Jax had sex. She’d tried hard to treat it impersonally, just two people scratching an itch, but she couldn’t fool herself. It opened doors to her feelings she couldn’t shut again, and now she had to know why Jax broke it off with her. If he really didn’t want to be with her, she’d put this whole mess behind her, get her grandmother’s affairs in order, and then go back to Seattle and never look back.

But if he didn’t want to end things with her eight years ago… then what? She had no idea, but if something had happened to make him feel forced to break up with her, it changed everything.

Pausing at the stairwell, she peered up, and then turned with a curse to continue pacing. She didn’t know how to approach Jax now. An hour ago, she was throwing words in his face that hurt him, insinuating that she was using him and had no care for his feelings. How was she supposed to ask him to talk about the past after that? And why would he want to do anything for her after she fled the barn so quickly after having sex, with his come still dripping down her thighs?

“Piper? What are you doing?” Jax asked behind her.

Jumping, she slapped a hand over her racing hard and looked to find him climbing stairs from the first floor, a glass of water in his hand. Well, shit, he hadn’t even been up in his room, and she’d been pacing around down here like an idiot.

“I wanted to talk to you, but I…” she trailed off, unsure how to explain what she’d been doing.

“Chickened out, huh?”

“I did not chicken—okay, yeah, I wussed out,” she admitted, glaring at him when he chuckled.

Smiling, he walked closer to her, his eyes dropping to take in her camisole and tiny sleep shorts. His eyes landed on her thigh, and he froze. “Is that an eagle?”

Brow twitching, she nodded. “Yeah. I’ve always thought they were kind of majestic birds. Beautiful and badass. Why? What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing,” he replied, swallowing hard and dragging his eyes to hers. “I like them, too.”

He turned around, showing her his back. The tattoo she saw in the barn earlier was an eagle, expression fierce and wings outstretched, spanning the width of his shoulder blades. Some of the feathers were even inked onto the back of his arms.

“Wow,” she breathed. “That’s awesome.”

Turning back around, he smiled at her. “Now that we’ve established we both like eagles, do you want to come up?” he asked, gesturing at the attic stairs.

Swallowing hard, she nodded, following him up the stairs, staring at the way his ass moved the whole trip. When she climbed the last stair, she pulled her eyes away to look around. The room was huge, stretching the length of the house, and surprisingly tidy.

On one end was a bed, end tables, and dresser, and she could see a door leading to a bathroom in the corner. On the other end of the large space was a drum kit, keyboard, and about five different guitars, ranging from acoustic to electric. There was even a saxophone in the corner.

“Look at all this,” she said softly, walking over and trailing her fingers over the drums. “Ei

ght years ago, all you had was an old hand-me-down guitar.”

“I still have it,” he replied, following her over. “Over there, in the corner.”

“So you do,” she said softly, walking over to check it out. Her eye caught on a mound of notebooks, and she grabbed the open one on top. “What new hit are you working on now?”

“No, wait,” he said, panic in his tone. “That’s not new, it’s old.”

Curious over what could shake up a normally unshakeable man, Piper turned away to keep him from grabbing the notebook and began reading. The paper was wrinkled and well-read, various colors and strengths of ink for different lines, all pointing to what he said about it being old. He must have been working on this for a long time.

As she read, her curiosity turned to surprise, then shock, her body going cold then hot. This wasn’t just any song. She felt deep inside, from the first line, that it was about her. Her, and the love he felt for her. A feeling that was confirmed as she read further. And despite having mostly negative feelings associated with their time together because of how everything ended, she couldn’t help falling a little in love with the song. It was beautiful.

Turning to face him, she took in the stiff set of his shoulders and the nervousness in his green and gold eyes. Holding the notebook aloft, she asked, “Why didn’t you ever publish this song? It would have been a hit. One of those songs that went down in history as one of the great love songs.”

Blowing out a breath, he ran a hand over his head. “Because the person it was written for would never hear it. Climbing the charts, radio play, winning awards—none of that matters if she never hears it.”

“Maybe she needed to hear it. Maybe it would have made a world of difference,” she whispered.

Swallowing hard, she looked down at the page, reading the lines again. He reached toward her and she stiffened, thinking he was going to take the notebook from her, but he reached for her wrist instead, studying the ink inside.

Oh, fucking hell. She never put her leather bracelet back on after her shower. She never forgot, because she didn’t want anyone seeing the tattoo, not even herself. But she had so much on her mind, it never occurred to her. And she was wishing it had, because she didn’t want him seeing it. Didn’t want him thinking he still had power over her.

“I got it after I’d been drinking. Just a moment of weakness, nothing more. I always keep it covered up. I don’t need any reminders of our past, and if I could scrape it off with the dull edge of a knife, I would. Don’t go reading anything into it.”