I choose my destiny, I choose my path, I choose.
I finally understand why Mia felt I needed to come here. She was right all along. It wasn’t my dad I needed to see, it was me. I needed to see that I’m not him, or my mom. I’m my own person and this is my life to live.
So, it’s time I actually started living it.
40
Rush
“I’m sitting up front,” Fox calls, sprinting around me and heading for Cannon’s Land Rover.
“Nuh-uh. No you don’t.”
I take off after him and since I’m taller, I pass him easily, snagging the coveted shotgun spot.
“Stop acting like children,” Cannon scolds, coming up behind us and unlocking the car.
As he heads for the driver’s side Fox hisses at me, “You know why I have to sit up front you prick.”
I grin back. “I know why, and that’s exactly why you’re sitting in the back. No way am I missing out on the opportunity to watch you squirm.”
“I fucking hate you,” he grumbles, yanking open the back door forcefully and climbing inside.
When I’m seated in front of him, he gives the seat a rough kick.
“Hey!” Cannon snaps, twisting around to glare at Fox. “Are you fucking five? Don’t kick my fucking car seats or you can pay to have this baby detailed.”
“Whatever,” Fox grumbles, glaring out the window at the hotel’s garage.
Shaking his head, Cannon starts the car.
“You could stay behind, you know,” I sing-song to Fox.
“Fat chance,” he mutters.
I grin to myself. The idiot might not want to sit in the back stuck beside Calista, but he does want to see her when she gets here.
Beside me, Cannon is completely oblivious to Fox’s turmoil. Personally, I don’t think he’s as unaware of the whole Fox and Calista thing as he seems. Do I think he knows about the whole virginity sex pact? I doubt it. But Cannon’s perceptive and he has to know Fox and his sister have a thing for each other. Maybe it doesn’t bother him, out of all of us, Fox is the most tame next to Cannon.
“Why did you two want to come anyway?” Cannon asks, pulling out of the garage.
I snort. “Callie is like our little sister, too,” I jab at Fox, fighting a grin. “We want to see her.”
“Yeah, but she’s going to be living with us so it’s not like you wouldn’t see her.”
“We just want to roll out the welcoming mat, C-Man. It’s what friends do.”
“Mhmm,” he hums doubtfully. “Here, put something on and shut up.” He hands me the AUX cord, which is a very, very dangerous thing to do.
I smile gleefully.
“Oh for fuck’s sake, he’s got that weird look on his face. What have you done, Cannon?” Fox complains in the back. “Never give Rush the fucking AUX cord.”
“Too late now,” Cannon mumbles, heading toward the interstate. “Don’t make me regret this,” he warns me.
“Never.” I grin widely and crazily, like the Joker.
Moments later He’s A Pirate by the amazingly talented Hans Zimmer begins to play.
“Oh no,” Fox says, and I glance behind to see him throw his head back. “He’s going to do the dance.”
Calling it a dance is a bit of a stretch, but there a ton of hand gestures and flailing involved.
“For the love of God,” Cannon mutters. “I don’t think they predicted you when they wrote the laws that constitute distracted driving.”
“That’s because nothing in the world can prepare you for pirate Rush.”
He shakes his head. “Drunk pirate Rush is a nut case, but the sober one is just as insane.”
“I can’t help it that I was a pirate in another life,” I retort, still dancing to the orchestra song.
When the song ends Fox pleads from the back, “For the love of God, pick a normal song.”
I scroll through my playlist and switch to What Does The Fox Say?
“Nope, no, no,” he shakes his head rapidly back and forth, “this is not what I meant.”
“I have the AUX cord and I’m in charge. Deal with it, motherfucker,” I cackle merrily.
Cannon grins back and even Fox cracks a reluctant smile.
This is the first time in months I’ve felt so light.
By the time we pull up to arrivals at the airport, I’ve played every annoying song I can think of to irritate the shit out of them.
“Do you see her?” Cannon asks, squinting at arrivals.
“She’s right there,” Fox murmurs softly. When I turn around, I find him staring out the window with a look of longing—coveting something he feels he has no right to.
Cannon looks where he’s pointing and spots Calista.
She stands by her suitcase, with large black sunglasses on. Her dark hair curls down past her breasts. Short and curvy, guys nearby can’t help but check her out. She’s hot, even I’ll admit it—but unlike Fox, I never had the balls to go after her, besides, she’s far too much like a little sister to me and that’d be gross.
Cannon puts the Land Rover in park and hops out to greet her, wrapping her in a massive hug.
Those two might argue non-stop and send each other idiotic pictures, but they’re closer than any other siblings I know. It’s kind of comical seeing Callie be swallowed by Cannon’s massive tattooed arms. She all but disappears.
Fox sighs forlornly behind me.
“You can say hi to her,” I tell him. “It’s not like you’re going to kiss her in front of him or strip her naked. Hellos are okay.”
“You wouldn’t get it,” he mutters.
I suppose I wouldn’t. I’ve fucked around, but I’ve never pined for someone I can’t have. Unless you count Kira, but I don’t. I could’ve had her, if I hadn’t fucked things up. If I’d been patient, and waited, she would’ve realized how right we are.
Instead, I went off the deep end and nearly fucked another woman—someone I felt nothing for, just to what? Be an asshole? Prove to myself I don’t need Kira?
It doesn’t matter what my intentions might’ve been, they were shitty and ill-guided. Every day I feel sick over it, but I know I can’t change it. All I can do is move forward and better myself, so I never do anything as stupid ever again.
Cannon heads back to the car, wheeling Callie’s suitcase behind him. He opens the trunk and puts it in, then takes the duffel off her shoulder and puts it beside the suitcase.
“Hey, guys.” Callie waves through the open trunk.
I raise my hand, my neck aching from sitting turned around so long.
“Hi, Cal,” Fox says, his voice higher than normal and forced sounding.
She looks back at him, but I can’t get a read on her—if she’s as lovesick as good ole Foxy boy.
Cannon closes the trunk and then they’re walking around the side of the vehicle. She opens the passenger door, sliding in beside Fox.
I can tell he would love nothing more than to look out the window, away from her, but it would become suspicious if he avoided her completely.
“How have you been?” he asks, as she places her purse between her feet and reaches for the seatbelt.
“I’m good—just needed to get away for a while. Debra was smothering me. I need to spread my wings a bit, maybe suck some peen while I’m at it.”
Cannon bumps the horn by accident at the word peen as he gets inside the car.
“Calista,” he grumbles. “Don’t make me shove you on a plane back home myself.”
“I’m only kidding. Basically, the Tinder dick pic pile was growing thin. I thought if I came here, I might get some good shots to replenish my stash so I can keep bugging you,” she tells her brother.
Fox’s face grows red, but nobody but me seems to notice.
Cannon mutters something under his breath as he pulls away from the terminal. “Remember, I kindly agreed to let you come here. Don’t shove it in my face.”
She snorts. “Kindly? You didn’t agree kindly, big bro.”
“And I thanked you for convincing Debra I would be fine. I’m twenty—not twelve. She needs to stop suffocating me.”
“Don’t call Mom by her first name, that’s rude.”
“You always were such a goody-two shoes.” She leans forward and playfully ruffles his perfectly coifed hair. “But you still have your rebel ways, so stop giving me grief.” She grins and pokes his tattooed arm. “Mom almost shit a brick when you came home with the first one.”
“Why is it I feel like by letting you come here I’ve basically allowed myself to be taunted for an undetermined amount of time?”
“Uh … because that’s exactly what you did,” she says in a duh tone.
Cannon makes eye contact with each of us guys. “Pray for me, fellas. I’m going to need it.”
“Where are you going?” Calista asks me, from where she lays on the couch, a fashion magazine glued to her hand.
“None of your business, that’s where I’m going.”
She rolls her eyes. “I was just curious, that’s all. You don’t have to be a dick about it.”
“I’m a dick about everything,” I counter. “I’ll be back later.”
I doubt Cannon’s told her about me joining AA and I’m not planning to inform her either. The less people who know, the better. Not that I think Callie would go blabbing her mouth all over social media … no, that’s exactly what I think.
Speaking of social media, I’ve barely been looking at mine. I wonder if my fans have even noticed. I used to be on it practically twenty-four-seven before we came here and started focusing on the album. Then Kira happened and took up even more of my time, because I wanted to be with her.
I guess that should’ve been my first tip-off things were different with her. She’s the first female since my parents have died that I willingly wanted to spend time with and actually wanted to have sex with. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed all the sex I had prior to her, but that’s all it was about. The sex. The release. The who didn’t matter.
When I finally reach the street outside the hotel I pause for a moment, inhaling a breath of the fresh spring air.
Two seconds later a sneeze explodes from me.
“Fucking pollen,” I mutter, and get a dirty look from a passing little old lady on the street.
Shaking my head, I let my feet carry me to the MMA training gym where the meeting is held. I arrive earlier than I did the first time, and only a few people linger around.
I pick a donut covered in chocolate icing and sprinkles, devouring it in two bites. I ignore the coffee this time, having learned better than to attempt to drink it.
Strolling over to where the chairs are set up, I pick a seat closer to the front this time, but more in the middle, because there’s no fucking way I’m sitting smack dab in the front row. I might enjoy being the center of attention when it comes to most things, but this isn’t one of them.
Somebody drops into the seat beside me, and I’m not surprised when I turn and find Daniel seated beside me. He smiles widely, pleased, his eyes warm.
“Welcome back, Rush.”
“Did you think I wouldn’t come?” I question, wanting his honest answer.
Looking at me through his thin wire framed glasses he says, “Most people think the first time you come to a meeting is the hardest, but they’re wrong. It’s each time after, because each meeting is a step closer to leaving the alcoholic behind. But like any addict your mind rebels, urging you to go back to what you know, because up ahead … the journey is unclear. But you’re here, and that’s good.”
“I’m here,” I echo.
“I’m proud of you.” He squeezes my shoulder and stands, going to speak to someone else.
Those four simple words hurt more than he can possibly know, but they also mean a lot, a whole lot, because I haven’t heard them since I was eighteen-years-old in the back of a car moments away from my life changing forever.
Daniel is practically a stranger to me, but I sense kinship within him, and maybe it’s a common bond all alcoholics share. After all, I’m only beginning to accept the fact I am one. I’ve spent years denying it. To myself. To my friends. To everyone.
As the meeting starts, I listen carefully to everyone who chooses to share. I know I need to get up there and open up, but this is only my second meeting and I’m not there yet. I need more time to sort through my thoughts, to figure out how I truly feel.
When the meeting ends a few people speak to me. I’m the new guy and I guess they’re curious. I give as little information as I can, because so far, I don’t think anyone knows I’m in The Wild, and here recording with my band. The last thing I need is word getting out and spreading to the media that I’m in AA. I know it’s supposed to be anonymous, but money talks and there are a lot of people who would willingly sell you out for a few thousand bucks.
I toss up my hand in a goodbye wave at Daniel before I head out on the street. The sun is beginning to set, but I’m not ready to go back to the hotel yet.
I look left and right, then start walking, letting my feet guide me wherever they want to go.
Twenty minutes later I find myself standing on the street, looking up at Kira’s second-story apartment and the stairs leading up to the door. I didn’t mean to come here, but I guess my subconscious led me here. I know from Hollis she’s gone with Mia this weekend out of town—a girl’s trip, he said. She needed to clear her head, because of me, I guess.
I hate that I’m such an asshole, that I hurt her so much she had to get away.
If I could drop to my knees and say I’m sorry a thousand times and I knew she’d forgive me, I would.
But I know that’s not enough.
I have to work on myself before we can ever work together—and even then, she might not give me another chance. She might truly not love me, but I don’t believe it, not anymore.
Being sober brings a new clarity to things, and looking back to that night in the hotel … I scared her. My words scared her.
Her parents, the two people in the world who should’ve loved her unconditionally and moved mountains for her, didn’t. That love was used against her, tossed in her face until love was no longer pure to her and represented something disgusting, something to be used and exploited. I would never do that to her, not even drunk off my ass, but she couldn’t know that—couldn’t let herself believe it either.
I inhale a shaky breath and exhale it slowly.
“Forgive me, Kira,” I whisper into the growing dark. “Forgive me and let me love you until my dying breath.”
She’s not there to hear, to listen, but it’s not meant for her ears yet anyway.
It’s a promise, a vow to myself that I will get her back.
Not today, not tomorrow, but one day—because we’re a flame, one that will never burn out.
41
Kira
“You think you’re good?” Mia asks, setting my bag down in my apartment. She insisted on carrying it up, because to quote her you’re pregnant, sit back and let people do shit for you.
“I’ll be fine.” I mean it too. “Thank you.”
I’m thanking her for so much more than carrying my bag up. For convincing me to go to North Carolina, for taking me, for being there for me through all these years, and all the ups and downs. She might be my only friend, but when you have a friend as good as her you don’t need any more.
“I love you, girl,” she says, and hugs me tight. “I’m so proud of you.”
“For what?” I ask, holding her at arm’s length and looking at her. I can’t think of anything I’ve done to be proud of.
“For facing things head on. For being the bad ass you are.”
“I’m nothing remarkable.” I shake my head and let her go, taking a step back.
“That’s where you’re wrong. You’re strong, and resilient. You’re so much more than you give yourself cred
it for. You handled everything this weekend with dignity when you could’ve ranted and raged. You’re admirable, Kira—and I do, admire you that is. I’m lucky to call you my best friend.”
“Stop!” I scold her, fanning my face. “I’m pregnant and emotional. You can’t say things like that. I cry over the dumbest things these days.”
She laughs and pulls me into another hug. “I love you, Kiki.”
I bust out laughing. “You haven’t called me that since high school.”
She shrugs. “I thought it was time to bring out the old nicknames.”
I roll my eyes playfully, grinning widely. “All right, get out of here then, Mimi. Go see your man and have that hot sex you’ve been talking about.”
She gives a little shimmy. “I’m gonna get sexed up tonight. Bye, girl.” She blows a kiss my way and then she’s gone, the door clicking closed behind her.
I lock it and then collapse on my couch, exhausted—mentally and physically.
My eyes are heavy and I know I could fall asleep right here if I let myself, but this couch is not the best thing for me or my back.
I give myself a total of three minutes before I get up and carry my bag down the hall to my room.
Dumping it in the corner of the bedroom I take a shower before changing into my pajamas and getting into bed. Turning the TV on, I hope something mindless will help me fall asleep. Tomorrow it’s back to school and my endlessly busy schedule. Summer can’t get here fast enough.
I keep eyeing my phone on the nightstand, and I feel stupid and ridiculous, because I’m hoping Rush will text me. I don’t even know why he’s on my mind or why I’m hoping for it. I still don’t know if I think we’re what’s best for each other, but I miss him. I didn’t feel so alone when he was around. He didn’t even have to be in the same room as me, but knowing he was a text or phone call away brought a comfort I didn’t know I had until it was gone.
Picking up my phone I open his contact.
Me: I miss you.
I type out the words, staring at them, but I don’t press send—because while I might miss him, he hurt me, and I know from Mia he joined AA. I don’t want him to think I forgive him and that means he doesn’t have to keep working on himself.
Wild Flame (The Wild: A Rock Star Romance Book 2) Page 32
