by Jayne Frost
Since Christian could smell a lie from a hundred yards, I didn’t look him in the eye when I offered up the lame refusal. And I might’ve coughed a little for emphasis.
“You’ve never turned down a blues bar,” he said, concern lacing his tone. “You must really be sick. Maybe you should see a doctor.”
Guilt crawled up from my gut. “I’m fine. Just tired. Maybe after I get some rest, I’ll catch up with y’all.”
Lies. Lies. Lies.
Tori had mentioned something about renting a horror movie. And if she got scared and spontaneously jumped into my lap, all the better.
Christian nodded, looking appeased. “Okay, we’re not leaving until nine. Call if you can make it.”
“Sure thing.” Relieved, I spun around and ran right into Christian’s girl. Frying pan. Fire. Shit.
“Hey, Melody,” I said with a smile.
Ignoring my greeting, she assessed me with narrowed eyes. “Christian says you’re sick. What are your symptoms?”
I threw a glare to my buddy. “Just a little tickle in my throat. It’s gone now. Almost.”
Taking a step back, I shoved my hands into my pockets. Melody was a research scientist, so it wouldn’t have surprised me a bit if she whipped out a portable microscope and demanded a blood sample.
The small distance I’d put between us didn’t stop the girl from levering up on her toes and pressing the back of her hand to my forehead. “You don’t have a fever.” She tapped her finger to her lips. “Probably a virus.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing. I’m going back to the hotel to take some—” I wracked my brain for a name. Any name. “Imodium.”
Mel’s eyes bulged. “That’s for diarrhea. Is your stomach bothering you too? Because that could mean—”
“No.” I backed away. “It was. But I’m better now. Really. I’m going to go rest. See y’all.”
Mel’s mouth dropped open, but I was already gone, heading for the stairs at a good clip. But as soon as I reached the bottom, I got tackled by a Munchkin. Pinning on a smile, I ruffled Willow’s auburn curls.
“Hey, Willow-baby.”
She lifted her arms. “Pick me up, Unc Lo!”
Since she was the one person I could never blow off, I swung her onto my shoulders. No sooner had she settled than Anna marched up. And for once, the fury in her eyes wasn’t aimed at me.
“Willow!” she bellowed. “You get down this instant!”
I tipped back when she reached for the kid. “Whoa. What’s up?”
Her emerald gaze shifted a few inches south to meet mine. “You want to know what’s up?” She pushed a wayward strand of hair from her face. “I’ve just spent the last five days in a hotel room with a five-year-old. She doesn’t like anything on the room service menu but pancakes.”
Sean sidled up, his smile dissolving when Anna threw herself into his arms. Over the top of her head, he looked at me with both brows raised in question.
Since I had no clue what was going on, beyond the breakfast food thing, I shrugged and shook my head.
Easing back, Sean cupped her cheeks. “What is it, baby?” Anna rested her forehead against his chest and mumbled something I couldn’t hear. Apparently, he did because he nodded and stroked her hair until she pulled herself together.
“I’m done for the day,” he said. “Let’s go back to the hotel and take a nap, okay?”
Anna blinked up at him, bottom lip wobbling. “We can’t. Willow’s too wound up. It’s all the damn syrup.”
On cue, the child in question did a little bouncy thing, drawing her parents’ weary gazes.
In the background, Dylan’s voice floated through the air. And if he was here, he wasn’t with Tori.
Before I thought better of it, I said, “I’ll take care of the kid for a while. We’ll go to the park or something.”
Sean’s brows drew together. “I thought you were sick.”
“Nah. I think it’s just—”
“I’ll get her car seat from the van,” Anna interjected. “Stay here. Don’t move.”
Walking backward, she leveled me with a serious gaze, and when I gave her a little nod, she spun around, dodging roadies and sound techs on her way to the parking lot.
Amused, I glanced over at my best friend. “For someone who claims to be exhausted, she sure can run fast.”
He raked a hand through his long hair. “We’re still getting used to road life.” He smiled up at his daughter, who now had me in a mini-headlock. “Willow-baby has more energy than usual.”
“She’ll settle down.” I reached around and pulled the monkey off my back.
When she started running circles around us, Sean and I looked at each other and, in silent agreement, we each took one of Willow’s hands. And then we strolled toward the parking lot, lifting Willow off the ground every few seconds.
We made it to the van and found Anna waiting at the curb. “All set?” I asked.
Dropping her gaze to the car seat with the portable nebulizer strapped to the side, she chewed her lip, a myriad of emotions playing across her face. And I got it. Willow was severely asthmatic. But it had been almost a year since she’d had a bad attack.
Dipping my head to catch Anna’s gaze, I said, “There’s a park with a zoo less than five miles from the hotel. Five miles. Nothing is going to happen. Now, give me an inhaler so I can go.”
Willow was wearing one of the cylinders around her neck, but her mother always had a spare. Or twenty.
“Are you sure?” Anna asked as she turned over the medicine. “I mean … I don’t know … what if …”
Sean hovered behind her, blue eyes darting between his girl and me, and then finally landing on Willow.
“I’m positive,” I said with enough conviction to chase some of the clouds from Anna’s eyes.
After mulling it over, Anna took a deep breath and knelt in front of her daughter to say goodbye.
Five minutes later, with Willow on my hip and her car seat dangling from my fingers, I headed across the blacktop to my car. “You want to go to the zoo, Willow-baby?”
She snaked an arm around my neck. “Depends. Do they have beaws?”
I laughed. “I’m sure they do.”
With all my attention on the kid, I didn’t notice Tori propped against the passenger door of my Mustang until we were twenty feet away.
“Hey,” I said, setting Willow on her feet.
She turned to me with a smile that evaporated when she saw the kid peeking from behind my legs. “Oh … Hi …”
I fished the keys from my pocket. “Where did you get off to?”
“I … um … I had to make some calls.”
When I set the car seat down, Tori took a step back like the contraption had teeth. I’d never seen her so uncomfortable. Weird. But then, some people didn’t like kids.
The notion unsettled me since Willow wasn’t just any kid.
“Do you need a ride?”
Tori shook her head, fingers digging into her thighs. “No … no. I can wait for the van.”
“Why?” I asked slowly, then followed her gaze to Willow. “She doesn’t bite.”
The she in question scooted in front of me. “Hi. I’m Wiwwo.”
It took all of two seconds for Tori’s sun bright smile to appear. “Hi Willow. I’m Victoria.” Her eyes darted to mine, a nervous laugh bubbling from her lips. “I don’t know where that came from. Nobody calls me that but my family.”
Victoria.
I rolled the name around in my head. It suited her. Like the smile and the blush.
“I like it,” I said. “Can you watch her while I fix up the car seat?”
Tori surprised me by easing onto the pavement. A few minutes later when I backed out of the car, Willow was on Tori’s lap, their heads together.
Tori peered up at me and smiled, and it warmed me all over.
Scooping Willow up with one arm, I offered Tori my free hand. “Ready?”
She popped to her feet with surp
rising ease. I helped her with the stretches every night. Maybe they were working.
Once we were all strapped in, I turned to Tori. “How’s your hip, princess?” My tone was a little gruff. But I wanted an honest answer.
She didn’t notice, her attention on Willow in the backseat. “Fine.”
“No pain?” I waited a beat, or five, but got nothing. So I placed my index finger under her chin and coaxed her gaze to mine. “Are you in pain?”
Irritation flashed across her features. “I said: I’m fine.”
“Good.” I shoved my keys in the ignition. “Then you won’t mind if we make a little stop at the zoo.”
20
I woke with a start, a heavy weight on my chest. Willow. I blinked down at her, burrowed to my side, her small fist coiled in the fabric of my T-shirt. She was so small. A perfect little human.
Burying my nose in her soft auburn curls, I breathed her in. Sunshine and cotton candy lingered in her hair.
“I’ll take her,” Logan said gruffly.
“N-no,” I managed, but he lifted her off me anyway. Rubbing the spot on my chest where her head had been, I watched through heavy lids as he carried her across the room.
When he disappeared into his suite, I willed my legs to work so I could follow him. But no. So I closed my eyes and let my head fall forward. Minutes later, when I felt the couch dip, I did my best to push myself to sitting. But I couldn’t quite manage, so I ended up lopsided.
“What time is it?” I rasped.
Resting his elbows on his knees, Logan looked down at his feet. “Nine.”
Nine …
The fog lifted a little. Not much. But enough to push a heavy hand through my hair. “Sorry.” I cleared my throat. “I … uh … guess I fell asleep.”
Logan searched my face with narrowed eyes. “You weren’t asleep. You were passed out.”
He spit the words like an accusation. And since they were true, I didn’t respond. Which only seemed to agitate him more.
Making a clumsy grab for the water on the coffee table, I misjudged the distance, and decided the effort was too much, so I slumped back against the pillows.
Logan snatched the bottle from the table and pressed it into my hand. “You want to tell me what the fuck happened?”
I didn’t know. Couldn’t remember a thing after we’d left the elephant exhibit. I was having such a good time. And I just wanted it to last. But nothing ever lasts.
I took a sip of water. “I took a pill. A pain pill.”
Admitting it made me feel weak. But I’d told Logan more about my injuries than anyone but my closest friends. What was one more thing?
When he didn’t respond for a long moment, I lifted my gaze. Whatever I expected to find on Logan’s face—sympathy, pity, understanding—it wasn’t there.
He was mad.
Why was he mad?
“You have a prescription?”
The suspicion in his tone conspired with the chemicals in my brain, loosening my tongue just enough to let it fly. All the tiny truths I hid in dark corners and buried in deep holes.
“I have five. Muscle relaxers too. But I don’t take any of them. Since they make me …” I looked down at my legs, which I could see but not feel. “Like this. But I do take a low dose hormone to keep my one good ovary from shutting down.” I laughed, and it was so brittle, I thought it might slice my tongue. “But it won’t do any good. I’ll never have a baby.”
Shifting my gaze to the open door, I could just make out the small lump on Logan’s bed. My hand crept up, and again I rubbed the spot where Willow’s head had been.
This time when our gazes collided, Logan looked horrified. And I wondered what he saw. But really, I didn’t want to know.
“You can go now,” I said and, letting gravity work its magic, I slumped against the cushions and closed my eyes.
A minute or an hour later, the cushion dipped again. Something warm curved around my thighs, and when my lids fluttered open to investigate, Logan was on his knees in front of me.
“I’m sorry,” he said, bowing his head. “I’m so sorry.”
I made a clumsy attempt to push him away. Because I didn’t want his sorrow. I had enough of my own.
“Don’t … don’t feel sorry for me.”
He caught my wrists. “I don’t. That’s not what I meant. Will you let me explain?”
I stopped fighting. “Go ahead.”
Even with the medication dulling my senses, I felt his thumbs sweeping slow circles over my skin.
Looking down to where we were joined, he sighed. “My sister’s an addict. You probably already know that. When I saw you like that, it reminded me of her … before she got help.”
He looked up with earnest blue eyes, ready to take all the blame. But even with the way he reacted, part of it was my fault. “I sh-should’ve told you about the pill … I don’t … I don’t have any tolerance because I don’t take them as prescribed.”
Confusion lined his brow. “Why?”
A smile curved my lips. At least it felt like a smile. “There’s this feeling. This moment that … uh … you’re not here.”
Turning around, he rested his shoulders against the edge of the couch and his head on my knee. “So that’s a bad thing?” he asked. “That feeling?”
Maybe without the pill, I’d never tell him. Or maybe I just wanted someone to know, finally.
“No. But it’s tempting. Or it used to be. So I stopped taking them regular … regularly.”
He looped an arm around my calf. “What was tempting?”
He shifted slightly to see my face. And when our eyes met, I felt the tug as he coaxed the word to my lips. “Oblivion.”
21
Chicago, IL.
The friend zone was an actual place. I knew it, because I lived there. With Tori in an adjacent room.
Four weeks into the tour and we had our routine down pat. She worked from the suite while I did band shit during the day. The problem was, the nature of festival tours dictated that I only had actual commitments three days a week. The other four days I was on my own.
Normally, that meant hanging with my boys, partying, and as much pussy as I could fuck. But there was nothing normal about my life since Tori crashed into it.
I spent all my free time with her. We ate our meals together in the suite. Watched movies. Worked on songs. And every night, I took her through her stretching routine. I’d added a back massage. For therapeutic reasons, of course. It had nothing to do with the noises she made when I rubbed the knots out of her muscles. Or the way her skin warmed me through the thin T-shirts she insisted on wearing, even though I’d explained the medicinal benefits of massage oil applied directly to the dermis. I thought using the proper terminology might get Tori on board with the whole shirtless plan.
It didn’t.
And that was probably for the best. It’s not like I needed the extra stimulation. As it was, whenever we finished our sessions, I ended up in the shower, fucking my fist with thoughts of her in my head. And like a damned addict, as soon as I shot my release, I vowed to put a stop to it.
But then the next morning, I’d find Tori with her mussed up hair, sitting in front of the window overlooking whatever city we happened to be in, and I’d cave.
Because, truth was, I liked having her around. Liked. Friends. Friend zone. Fuck.
This week we were in Chicago. After two back-to-back record-breaking shows, things were heating up outside our tour bubble, which existed on an alternate plane. It’s like the real world only pushed in the two days prior to our gigs when we did press events.
I was eating breakfast downstairs in the private dining room the hotel had set up for the bands when Elise shoved a paper into my hands.
“There’s been some changes to the schedule,” she said, distracted.
After giving the document a dismissive glance, I returned my attention to my breakfast. “I’m a little busy.” I spooned some brown sugar onto my oatmeal. “Ju
st tell me where I need to be.”
Elise’s lip pulled back into something resembling a sneer. Entitled douchebag, may as well have been flashing on her forehead. As I’d predicted, she’d turned into a decent coordinator. Tough. Organized. And she didn’t take shit from anyone.
When it was obvious I wasn’t going to budge, she chuffed out a breath and flipped through her paperwork.
“Radio interview at WKRV,” she said. “The van is picking y’all up in front in a half hour. Then cocktails and a light dinner with the VIPs that bought the platinum circle tickets. That’s right here, in the private dining room, at five.”
The platinum circle VIPs spent three grand a pop on their tickets. In addition to the show, they got the privilege of joining one of the bands for cocktails or a meal. It was a huge publicity opportunity.
Without waiting for an acknowledgement, Elise spun on her heel and headed for the buffet line. I stared at the paper for a couple of minutes and then I followed.
“I thought Leveraged was doing the honors with the VIPs?”
Elise perused the items at the omelet station. “Not this time. Tori changed it.”
While she placed her order with the chef, I glanced around the room, and my gaze collided with Dylan’s. Seated at a back table, deep in conversation with Beckett, a ghost of a smile curved his lips. It wasn’t warm. Or inviting. Still, I mumbled a goodbye to Elise and wandered over.
Beckett was out of his chair before I got there, headed for the door. I expected Dylan to follow, but he just crossed his arms over his chest like he was waiting for me.
“Hey, man,” I said, dropping into the seat across from him. “Haven’t seen you much lately.”
He poked his tongue in his cheek, as if he were amused. “I’ve been around.”
Stretching my legs, I slung an arm over the back of my chair. “Mighty kind of y’all to let us take over the VIP thing tonight.”
Dylan’s lips parted, but then his gaze shifted over my shoulder. There was no mistaking the warmth in his smile or who it was for. When I glanced behind me to confirm, Tori was there, frozen in her spot a few feet from the table.
