Page 18 of Hard Rock Tease

"I knew you were a fan, but millions?"

I ignored him. "I feel like I know the Noah Hart who wrote those words, but that's not the Noah Hart I'm sitting next to right now, is it? You're a different person."

"You mean I'm an asshole."

"No."

He snorted.

"Okay. Yes. You're an asshole sometimes. But that just makes me want to get to know the real you even more. You're not an asshole around everyone, right? What about your bandmates? Your friends?"

He stiffened. "Friends? You mean the people who come out of the woodwork once you get famous, trying to sponge off you and use you? Yeah. Some friends."

"What about your family?"

He shot me an almost panicked look, eyes wide and nostrils flaring. The look was soon replaced with a scowl. "We're not talking about this."

His family must have been a sore spot. I filed it away as something to explore later.

"We don't have to talk about anything you don't want to. But I think it would be good if I got to know you."

"And what about me? Don't I get to know you?"

I shrugged. "There's not much to know."

Noah 's dark eyes held that same spark of interest I'd seen before, as if I were a puzzle to be solved. What was it about me that made him so curious?

"And what exactly do you want me to talk about?" he asked.

If I'd known as a teenager I'd have the chance to ask Noah Hart anything I wanted, I would have been ready with a list of questions. Now that I was actually in front of him, I was at a loss.

"Maybe you can tell me how you first got into music?"

He thought for a moment. "It wasn't the music so much," he murmured. "It was an English teacher who—" he cut himself off, looking almost embarrassed.

"What about your English teacher?" I prompted.

"He got me into poetry," he admitted.

"You had aOh Captain, My Captainmoment?"

Noah snorted, looking almost amused. "Are you really referencingDead Poet's Society?"

"Robin Williams at his best." I gave him a small smile. "So you got into writing poetry first? Then the music came later?"

"It was an outlet, of sorts. A way to deal with all the shit I was going through."

I opened my mouth to ask exactly what kind ofshitthat might be, but stopped myself. I'd listened to his lyrics enough times to guess. There was something in his past that caused him pain, that caused him grief. Something that made him feel angry and guilty and alone. I didn't want to open up that Pandora's box. We weren't quite ready for that. Not yet.

"My teacher convinced me to go to some poetry readings," Noah continued. "That's how August found me."

I sat up straight, getting excited. There was little information online about how the band had formed. "August saw you at a poetry reading?"

"He was looking for a lyricist. August can compose music but he's no good with words. Then he approached me and found out I could sing, too. That's how it all began."

"I never knew. There's not much about you guys before you burst onto the scene."

Noah shifted uncomfortably. "None of us want people prying into our past. Our personal lives."