I figured I’d be fine while I was on the road with my dad, but I had no idea what I’d be coming home to.
All of those thoughts ran through my head as I packed on Monday night.
My thoughts had been filled with everything I needed to do to get ready for this last leg of the tour. Rebecca, my dad’s assistant, had been hugely helpful. I wished her well in her upcoming wedding, she filled me in on the basics, and I memorized the schedule and searched for restaurants and attractions in each city that might interest my dad.
It was easier for Rebecca, who knew all of that shit in her head. That wasn’t something she could just relay to me.
So I called her often, texted her even more often, checked in with my dad, and checked the itinerary Rebecca had made for the next four weeks. I ran everything by Rebecca once more and finalized every last detail, comparing the bus schedule to the tour schedule. I confirmed hotel and restaurant reservations, just two of the luxuries my dad depended on when he was on tour.
I’d be riding on the crew bus. Each band member had his own bus—my dad often said that was what kept them together for so many years—and my dad and his new bride would be riding alone.
Rebecca typically rode with the crew. The crew had been with the band for years and years. They were like a family to me, a group of people I’d grown up around, including Keith, the band’s manager, and his wife, Vanessa, who had become a friend over the years. She was kind and took care of the crew, ensuring everyone had everything they needed.
Stepping in last minute as my dad’s assistant had given me a lot to think about, which allowed me to stop obsessing over Parker for a few minutes. It gave me something interesting to focus on, a project that I had limited time to complete. I threw myself into it, but he never left my mind for very long.
I was still curious about where he was going, what he was doing. If he’d be thinking about me.
If he’d find some other girl while we were apart.
We’d never labeled whatever was starting between us as exclusive. I’d never put so much trust into someone before, but then again, I’d never experienced a true adult relationship.
With Parker, though, there was a balance. We were both adults living our lives, adults who had met by chance and who had more in common than I thought possible after the first time we’d met in the break room of Vintage.
After I’d finished packing and was about to take my sleeping pills to head off to bed, my phone buzzed with a text. It was Parker.
What are you doing?
Getting ready for sleep. You?
Thinking about you.
What about me? I settled into bed with my phone.
About how blue your eyes are. About your hair and how it flies around you when I’m fucking you. About sex.
I thought about that one. He was a guy. Guys thought about sex. So I needed some clarification on that point. Sex with me?
My phone rang a few minutes after I sent the text.
“Hi.” My voice was soft.
“Only you, Jimi. Just you.”
“I miss you.” My voice was raw with emotions. This wasn’t me.
I’d grown a lot in the past year. I’d learned to rely on myself, because in the end, I was the only one who would always be there for me. And now I was finding myself dependent on Parker. He made me smile. He made me feel.
Hanging my hopes on a relationship with a musician was stupid. It was suicidal. It was the worst possible idea for me after everything I’d been through.
But the heart has a goddamn mind of its own.
If I could choose who I fell for, I never would’ve chosen Parker. For one, he was too much like me, but worse, he was a musician who would always put his career first. And I’d never expect anything less than that. He had to put his career first. Musicians didn’t have any other choice if they wanted to taste true success, to reach a level like Black Shadow.
But I did have a choice. I could choose to let his career ruin us before we even gave us a chance, or I could choose to accept what he did for a living.
In the interest of my heart, I chose the latter. As it turned out, I didn’t really have a choice at all.
“I miss you, too. God, I miss you so fucking much. It’s like I left a piece of myself at your place when I left the other morning.”
“I’ll keep it safe, Parker.”
He sighed. “It’s been almost a week.”
“I know. You know what I miss most?”
“What?”
“Your arms. I’ve never felt warmer or safer than when I’m in your arms.”
“I’ve never felt more complete than when I hold you in my arms.”
“Where are you right now?”
“At a gas station.”
“With the band?”
“Yeah. We’re somewhere between Albuquerque and Texas, I think. I waited to call you until we stopped. I just needed a minute away from them, you know?”
“I get it.” I laughed. It was such a boy thing, not wanting to talk in front of the guys. Not wanting to show emotion.
“We’re stopping at a hotel tomorrow night. I’ll call you then and we can talk longer.”
“I’ll be on the road by then, but I’m not embarrassed to talk in front of other people.” My voice held amusement.
“I’m not embarrassed, Jimi. Far from it, actually.”
“Do they know about us?”
“Yes.” His answer was immediate. That made me trust that he was being truthful. “They wanted to know what was inspiring my lyrics. Plus I never stop talking about you.”
“I want to see you onstage.”
“We’ve got some local gigs set up when we get back.”
“I’ll come to every one of them. I’ll stand up front and wear a low cut shirt so you can see down it from up there.”
“You’ll distract me. I’ll forget the words.”
I giggled, and then I heard some voices in the background.
“I have to go.” His voice was apologetic.
“Be safe, Parker. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Bye, Jimi,” he whispered.
We hung up, and I drifted off to sleep with Parker on my mind.
twenty-six
“What are you doing here?” I whispered in the dark.
“I had to see you.”
“I thought you were somewhere between Albuquerque and Texas. Which is a city and a state, by the way.”
He chuckled. “I was. I came back for you.” Parker’s lips dragged across my skin, leaving tingles in their wake. It was dark, but I could smell him in my room. He smelled like sunshine, a bright contrast to the pitch blackness of my bedroom.
“How did you get in here?”
“That key you gave me.” His voice was lost in the skin of my abdomen.
Giving him a key to my condo was the same thing as giving him a key to my heart. A key to my condo—my most private place, the place I called home—held the same meaning as letting him into the private confines of my soul. I didn’t remember giving him a key.
“Flip over,” he said. “Grab the headboard with your hands.” I followed his directions. He pushed my shirt up, exposing my back.
It was too dark for him to see my tattoos, but it didn’t stop him. “I told you I wanted to lick every inch of your back.” Kisses trailed down my back. I felt a dart of a tongue followed by a hot breath of air. More tongue and the scratch of his scruff along my skin.
He ripped my shorts with my panties down my legs. I kicked them off. I was useless lying on my stomach. My arms were stretched above me, and he took full control of my body.
His mouth moved across the planes of my back. His fingertips trailed down the curves of my back, over my ass, and down into my pussy. He pushed a finger in and held it there for a few seconds before backing it out. He continued to kiss every part of my back while he fingered me, my body grinding down to meet the thrust of his fingers. The angle was perfect, offering me a dizzying pleasure as I gripped
the headboard in my hands and pushed down onto his strong fingers. I unraveled beneath him, my body bursting into an intense orgasm that drove all coherent thought from my mind.
I released the headboard from my grip, flexing my fingers to get the blood flowing back into them. I flipped over, ready to return the favor, but as my eyes focused in on the room around me, I realized it was empty.
And it was light.
Another dream, this one even more vivid than the last.
Every part of me wished that Parker was beside me in my bed instead of on a bus somewhere in the middle of the United States.
My body ached. I flexed my fingers and realized that they ached, too. I must have been gripping something just as I’d been gripping the headboard in my dream.
I ran my fingertips under my shirt, brushing against one of my nipples. It hardened. I gasped with the pleasure of my own touch.
I had to alleviate the ache between my legs. As much as I wanted Parker in my bed with me, this was going to be a long four weeks without him.
Hell, it was going to be a long four weeks surrounded by people. I didn’t know when I’d get enough time alone to do this again.
So I settled back into my bed, dipped my fingertips into my panties, and took care of the writhing ache that being apart from Parker left in me.
My fucking alarm clock interrupted me just as I was about to hit my release. I hit it harder than I should’ve and finished taking care of myself. A glance at the clock when I finished let me know that I didn’t have much time to kill—just enough to shower and head over to my dad’s house, where my car would be parked for the next month.
I hauled my suitcase down to my car, spotting Bruno sitting across the street. I was told to ignore him, to continue with my life like he wasn’t watching, but I gave a small wave in his direction. It was hard to see his expression through his blacked out windows.
I threw my suitcase and a few other odds and ends in the backseat of my car, and then I started it up and headed toward Santa Monica Boulevard, my normal route toward Hollywood Hills where my dad lived. Traffic was light, but as soon as I turned onto the main road, a car got right on my ass.
I slowed down, hoping the asshole would go around me, but he didn’t. He stayed on my ass. I wasn’t as scared as I’d been the last time I was followed. This time, at least I knew that Bruno was somewhere behind me.
But being followed like that still filled me with anxiety, especially after my dad had filled me in on some of the puzzle pieces of Damien’s past with Randy.
My cell phone rang, its jarring jingle startling me.
I grabbed it off the seat next to me, checking the screen. It was an unknown number. I slid the screen over to answer it, tossing it back on the seat and talking through my Bluetooth. “Hello?”
“Ms. Price, it’s Bruno. Keep going straight and don’t hang up. Change lanes for me, please.”
I didn’t know jack shit about Bruno, but my dad had hired him, so I had to trust him. I did as I was told, signaling my intention ahead of time. The car behind me didn’t signal, but it did follow me into the other lane.
“Motherfucker,” I heard Bruno mumble.
“Is everything okay?” I asked, my voice small.
“Yes, ma’am. Just keep driving.”
“Where do I go?”
“Ms. Price, head back into the right lane. Just follow my directions, and don’t worry. I’m right behind him.”
I took in a calming, cleansing breath, glad that my dad had stuck Bruno on me despite my weak protesting.
“Just keep heading toward your father’s house for now. I’m running his plates.”
It was an easy drive. There was hardly any traffic on a midweek late morning, and it would have been peaceful to drive in the serenity of the outskirts of Los Angeles at this time of day if I hadn’t had someone following me.
“Ma’am, take a left on Fairfax.”
I followed his directions. It was the street I normally took toward my dad’s, anyway.
“I’m going to take care of him. You keep going toward Mr. Price’s house. Drive cautiously. Watch behind you. Call your dad immediately if you think someone else is following you.”
He cut off the call, and I kept driving toward my dad’s. I took a right on Hollywood Boulevard, and I looked behind me. There was no one back there anymore.
I wasn’t sure what Bruno meant by taking care of him, but he’d been good on his word.
I took another cleansing breath, but this one was a hell of a lot shakier than the first one I’d taken on that ride. Parker flashed through my mind, and it felt like the only thing that would make me feel better were his arms wrapped tightly around my torso.
I missed him.
I missed him more than I thought I would.
He’d become a fairly permanent fixture in my thoughts despite the limited time we had together. Knowing that we’d be apart from each other for the next month was daunting.
But I had plenty ahead of me to focus on. Time on the road would certainly become long. Missing Parker would get even harder, but hopefully getting away from California would help me escape the anxiety-filled drives and strange occurrences that I’d chalked up to Randy.
I hoped that a month was long enough for Randy to deal with the fact that my dad had married Jadyn. I hoped maybe he’d just build a bridge and get over it.
Hopes were funny things, though.
Much like dreams, it was easy to build up hopes in my mind. But most of the time, reality tended to turn out a different way.
twenty-seven
I pulled into my dad’s expansive driveway. He was waiting there, motioning for me to pull into an empty space in his six-car garage.
Once I cut the engine, he clicked a button and shut the door.
My dad pulled me in for a hug when I got out of the car. “You okay, CC?”
“I’m alright.”
“You’re shaking.”
“It was scary.”
“Having Bruno watch you doesn’t seem like overkill now, does it?”
I shook my head, fighting back the tears that I felt burning behind my eyes. I couldn’t start my month long stint as my dad’s personal assistant by crying.
I pulled back, because if I let my dad hug me any longer, the dam would burst. Between missing Parker, fear for my safety, and relegating my history with Damien to the past, I was on emotional overload.
“It’s fine. I’m fine. I’m ready for this tour. I’m ready to be the best PA you ever had.”
“Rebecca’s got some pretty big shoes to fill.”
“I’ve got this,” I said, forcing a smile that I didn’t really feel.
Jadyn Snow and her four suitcases waited by the door.
“Hi Mommy,” I said. She rolled her heavily made-up eyes.
“You okay, Roxanna?” she asked with barely concealed false concern. I hoped my dad caught on, but he was busy talking to George.
“I’ll be fine. Rough start, but it should all be behind us now. Did you pack enough?” I motioned toward her suitcases.
“A girl’s got to have some choices.”
“Or an entire wardrobe,” I muttered. Traveling with Jadyn Snow was not going to be the highlight of the next four weeks.
George hauled our bags into the Tahoe. Another of George’s security contacts drove us to the airport so he could take the Tahoe back to my dad’s place since George was going with us. The five of us headed toward the airport.
“Any news on who was following me?” I asked my dad. He made some non-committal grunt, and that was the end of it. He may have known something, or maybe he hadn’t, but either way, I wasn’t getting anything else out of him.
Sometimes I hated that I gave in so easily, but I’d learned long ago that putting up a fight just wasn’t worth it.
I pulled out my phone to text Parker. I didn’t want to worry him, but I did want to hear from him. I just needed that one brief moment of connection, even if it came in the form of a
text. I needed to know that he was thinking about me.
On my way to the airport and missing you.
I was all the way through security and sitting in the first class lounge before a reply came. I was sitting by myself in a chair in the corner. I had my earbuds in. Flashing Light was the only album I’d downloaded to my playlist. It was all I wanted to hear.
My dad never sat at the gates; he preferred the stuck-up first class lounges where he was able to obtain a few moments of peace before his flights. When he sat at the gate, too many people recognized him.
I hated first class lounges. Maybe I was the more pretentious of the two of us for feeling that way, but I didn’t like sitting with the rich and famous, eating free apples and drinking free glasses of wine when the people in there had bundles of money to pay for that shit.
I smiled as I read his text. I miss you, too. On the bus. Just woke up.
It’s after noon. #Lazy
Not much else to do on a bus but sleep or watch TV. #Bored
I supposed that was true enough. My phone buzzed with another text, but I was listening to the voice that came over the loudspeaker informing us that our flight was on time. Boarding would begin in a few minutes. First class would board first, which meant of course that we would get on the plane first. But my dad always waited until the very last minute possible to make his appearance. I guess it gave him some privacy. I headed to the restroom quickly—I hated the tiny ones on planes—and when I returned to where my dad, Jadyn, and George sat, I finally checked the last text Parker had sent me.
And text my girlfriend, of course.
Girlfriend? He’d called me his girlfriend? And that was the text I’d waited to check?
A little tingle stuttered in my chest.
I wasn’t sure how to respond to that.
Another text came through while I debated how to reply.
Okay, just ignore that last text. No reply for a full ten minutes can’t be good.
I grinned at my phone. He clearly felt as out of place in this relationship as I did. Maybe that’s what made us so good together.
Not ignoring. I wouldn’t do that to my boyfriend.
Vintage Volume One Page 15
