Suddenly the moment is broken. No matter how strong my physical reaction for him might be, I know I can’t do this. I pull away but he doesn’t seem to notice. Finally, I pound my hand against his chest and he releases me, looking bewildered. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re drunk.”
He gives me a little grin. “I was drunk the first time we did this. So were you.”
I’m breathing deeply and I see his eyes going to my rapidly rising and falling chest. They darken momentarily and I want nothing more than to feel him looking at me like that for the rest of the night.
It’s not real.
“I’m sorry, Reed. It’s not a good idea. Not when you feel like this.”
“Like what?”
“Mixed up and confused.”
He reaches for me, that grin back on his face. “There is no confusion in my feelings for you.” He brings his lips to my forehead, breathing in deeply. “Want you, Paige.”
God, how am I supposed to say no to that? I want him, too, have wanted him since that morning I walked out of his room. Wanted him so deeply I feel a constant ache in my chest.
For a minute I let myself see how it would be. How our movements would grow more impassioned, more desperate, as our need overtook us. How we would lie, tangled up in the sheets and in each other, blissfully satisfied. How we would sleep next to each other, and wake next to each other, and go through our days together, wanting and needing each other, loving each other.
It might seem like a harmless fantasy, but you could get hurt, Karen’s voice whispers in my mind. I can see her clearly, that morning by the pool, reminding me of how easily I let my romantic imagination get away from me. Warning me that he could hurt me, this beautiful boy in front of me.
“No,” I whisper, pulling back. “Not like this.”
“Paige.” His voice sounds desperate as his hands move out to grab me again, his face falling when I step out of his reach. “Please. I just... I don’t want to be lonely tonight.”
I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. “And that’s exactly why I can’t do this. Because you only want a Band-Aid.”
His face scrunches up in confusion. “You don’t want to be lonely, Reed. You don’t want to feel this much unhappiness. This much fear. Don’t want to think about what happened today. So, first you used the booze and now you want to use me. To try to forget. I won’t be that for you. I’m sorry.”
He gapes at me. “I would never use you.”
I shake my head, trying hard not to let the tears that are gathering fall, and offer him a sad smile. “That’s exactly what you’re trying to do, right now.”
When he just stares at me, I walk to the door, open it, and step aside. “I think you should go back to your room and sleep this off. If you want to talk tomorrow, I’ll be here. But I think we need some space tonight.”
He looks incredulous, as if he can’t believe I’m actually instructing him to go. When I don’t step away from the door he must realize that I mean it, because he finally moves forward. As he steps to the door, he pauses briefly to look down at me. He’s close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his skin. He runs one finger across my collarbone. “It wouldn’t have been like that,” he says.
I stare pointedly at the hall beyond him, refusing to make eye contact. Finally, he sighs and moves through the doorway and out into the hall. My eyes meet his once before the door closes between us and I can see my own regret and still-present desire mirrored in his.
After he leaves, I go straight to bed, needing to be in the dark and quiet, alone with my thoughts. I know I did the right thing, know I would have hated myself if I slept with him when he was in such an emotional state.
But knowing that doesn’t make it any easier to fall asleep without him.
Chapter Fourteen
Reed
I don’t think I’ve ever felt so bad in my entire life.
First of all, there’s the headache—it was really a mistake to drink so much last night. I suppose I had a good enough excuse but I really should have stopped after I left Paige’s room. I should not have sought out Cash, who only needed to hear the words, “I want to get wasted” to be spurred into action. I know we started out at the hotel bar, but I have no idea where we ended up after that.
The drinking numbed the panic and sadness I felt about Sienna’s news, at least for a while. But that came back with a vengeance this morning, particularly after I puked my guts up. I’m still not sure if I made the right choice, agreeing to pretend that we were still together. I’ve gone over and over the conversation so many times in my head, I feel like I might literally go insane. Somehow, in spite of all of that, I made it through two radio interviews, sound check, and our show. By the time we walk off stage, my headache has returned with a vengeance.
So, you’d think the fact that Paige isn’t hanging out in our dressing room after the show wouldn’t bother me so much. Most night’s she’s there, along with Daisy, waiting for us to get the post show party going. Tonight, though, only Daisy waits for us in the dressing room. And it bothers me much, much more than it should.
I haven’t spoken with her since last night. I was busy all day, but I still got the sense she was actively avoiding me. She left the hotel for the venue long before I did, yet I never saw her there, either on the bus or backstage. I wonder just how pissed off she is.
I can’t believe I tried to come on to her last night. Somehow, I feel worse about that than about almost anything else that happened yesterday. Paige has never done a single thing to deserve me showing up in her room, drunk off my ass, and spilling my sob story before groping her like an asshole. I said from the beginning that I never wanted to hurt her, that I would never use her or let her be my rebound. Yet, there I was, doing just that.
Even through the drunken stupor, I could see the hurt in her eyes when she pushed me away. When she accused me of using her as a Band-Aid. God, I am such an asshole.
“You look like shit.” I look up to see Cash towering over my seat on the couch. He seems to be swaying back and forth and I rub my hand roughly over my forehead to try and quell the pounding.
“Well, I feel like shit.”
“You’re such a lightweight. I drank just as much as you last night and you don’t see me sitting around all pale and sweaty.”
“I was pretty drunk before we went out, Cash.”
He looks concerned for the first time, and joins me on the couch. “I thought you were just a little buzzed. Why were you drunk at eight p.m.?” Suddenly his face clears and he hits his forehead with his palm. “Duh. Sienna, right? I totally forgot she was here yesterday.”
“Your concern and interest in my problems are touching, bro.”
He grins sheepishly. “Sorry. I just got distracted after we left you here with her, and it totally slipped my mind until now.”
“What was her name?”
Another grin. “Can’t remember.”
I’m torn between exasperation and an urge to punch him. “You do realize that the entire fucking label is pressuring me to get back together with Sienna in order to help repair the damage of you being a slut, right?”
He looks abashed for a second before his normal smooth, unconcerned expression is back. “That’s not my fault. I never asked you to do that—would never ask you to do it. You don’t want to, you should just tell them that.” He raises an eyebrow. “I’m not going to apologize for living the life I want just because you feel pressured not to do that same.”
I sit in stunned silence as he stands and strides away to talk to Lennon. It’s not every day you get bowled over by the truth—from Cash, of all people.
What would I do? I wonder, staring at a spot on the wall. If I could do anything I want right now, no worries about the band or the label or Sienna or Dad. What would I do?
I know the answer immediately. I pull out my phone and open a search engine, typing away. I grin when the right link comes up—freaking perfect—before pocketing
the phone and heading for the door.
“Where you going?” Daltrey asks as I pass him.
“Heading out to the bus.”
“You’re not partying tonight?”
“I had my share of partying last night,” I assure him. “See you later.”
I know I have a good hour, at least. The roadies are still getting the equipment packed and someone just brought out the liquor, meaning my brothers and the crew will be preoccupied for a good long while before making their way out to the bus. I just hope she’s there.
I find Paige asleep, curled up on the sectional in the back lounge. She must have been reading—a paperback is resting on her thigh, the binding still held lightly in her left hand. She’s wearing glasses, which takes me by surprise—I had no idea she wore glasses to read. Her black hair is down, partially covering her face. I feel the strongest urge to brush it away, but I know touching her right now won’t solve any of my problems. Instead, I sit on the opposite side of the sectional, content to watch her for a while. Already I feel better, just being out of the pressure cooker of the band environment. It’s not the first time I’ve noticed that being around Paige makes me feel calmer—but it is the first time I’ve realized the fact holds true even when she’s sleeping.
“Reed?” she asks, sounding confused and bleary. “What are you doing? What time is it?”
My eyes snap back up to her face. She pulls off her glasses to rub at her eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
“It’s okay.” She pulls herself up into a sitting position. “I’m so rock and roll, huh? Falling asleep with a book during the show. I kept meaning to go in and watch but I was so sleepy.”
I wonder if maybe she slept as shitty as I did last night, and the thought hurts my stomach. I did that, I think. I upset her like that.
“You didn’t miss much.” I try to keep my voice light. “Same old show.”
She shakes her head with surprising vehemence. “No way. Your shows are never same-old.”
“I’m so sorry,” I blurt out. I had wanted to phrase it better than that but I can’t stand how nice she’s being, how obviously she loves my band. I don’t deserve it, not from her.
Her face scrunches up. “You don’t have to apologize. I know you’d had a shock—”
“It doesn’t excuse it. You were right, Paige, I totally was using you. You don’t deserve that, not ever. You did the right thing, kicking me out.”
She sighs, stretching out her legs before curling them back under her on the couch. “I wasn’t quite sure about that last night,” she mutters but then shakes her head, looking up at me with a sheepish smile. I wonder what she meant, but then she changes tack. “Thank you for apologizing. Now, stop worrying about it, okay? We’re friends, right? I want you to feel like you can talk to me about this thing with Sienna.”
I nod, looking away. Somehow it’s hard to look at her face when she says Sienna’s name.
“Have you told anyone else?”
I shake my head. “No. I just... I don’t know how, I guess.”
“You think they’ll be upset? Your brothers?”
I shrug. “Shocked, probably. I’m supposed to be the responsible one.”
“Even responsible ones can make mistakes, you know.”
“This was a pretty big mistake.” I wince. “I feel like such an ass, saying that. This is a kid we’re talking about. No kid deserves to be thought of as a mistake.”
Her face visibly softens and she’s quiet for a long minute, just looking at me, before she finally looks away. Are her eyes wet? “Your kid is incredibly lucky to have you, Reed. Whatever your doubts are right now, that kid is lucky.”
I snort. “I don’t know about that. You should have seen me last night, stumbling back to the hotel with Cash. I’m pretty sure I passed out in the lobby.
She winces. “I shouldn’t have left you alone.”
“Don’t you go second-guessing yourself. You were totally right to kick me out. I was beyond over the line.”
She stares down at the book in her hand, not responding.
“Do you...” I swallow, wishing I didn’t feel so needy but wanting to hear her say it again. “Do you really think the kid is lucky?”
She looks up at me with wide eyes. “Of course, I do. Whatever happens with Sienna, you’re going to be a great dad.”
I feel a little shiver at her words. It feels more real, somehow, hearing her say it. That I’m going to be a dad.
“Thank you,” I tell her, trying to swallow the lump in my voice. “That means a lot, coming from you. I... I’m not sure I agree with you, but thank you.”
She shakes her head. “Anyone who would stick with a kid’s mom, just for his sake, is clearly someone who cares a hell of a lot.”
I glance up at her, expecting to see judgment in her eyes. I know she doesn’t approve of me dating Sienna to try to make things right. But she only looks sad as she appraises me from the other couch.
“You really don’t think I should do it, do you?”
“That’s not for me to say.”
“I respect your opinion, Paige.”
She sighs, fiddling with the hem of her t-shirt. “I got pregnant in high school.”
I’m not sure what I expected her to say, but it wasn’t that. “You did?”
She nods, not meeting my eyes. “We were seventeen, just juniors. My boyfriend—David—he was scared out of his mind. I can’t blame him, not really. We were so young and we both wanted to go to college.” She shakes her head, smiling ruefully. “But I wasn’t scared. The minute that line turned blue, I was in love.”
She finally meets my eyes and I feel my breath catch at the look on her face. I suddenly don’t want to hear the end of this story, don’t want to know what could have happened to make her look like that. The expression in her eyes isn’t just sad—it’s heartbroken.
“I thought everything was going to work out, you know?” she asks, her voice wistful. “That we would get married and work hard and figure out how to finish school—I thought we could do it all.” Of course she did. She’s Paige—the most optimistic, hopeful person I’ve ever met. She laughs a little. “Karen says I’m way too romantic. That I build up these fantasies in my head. But I really did think we could make it work. That we would be happy.”
She trails off and I’m scared to speak. I finally clear my throat. “What happened?”
“I lost the baby.” She doesn’t sound as sad as I expected—instead her voice is flat, dead. All of the bubbliness that personifies Paige absent. Somehow, it’s worse than sadness. “It was probably for the best.” She sighs a little, the sound so small I can barely be sure I heard it at all. “But damned if it didn’t break my heart.”
“Paige.” I want to hold her so bad, want to kiss her until her voice gets some life back, until she stops sounding so numb. But I have no right to her, no right to think I’m the one who can fix this hurt.
She’s staring hard at the floor, not letting me see her face. “So, I get it, Reed. Really. That you would do anything for your kid. I would have done anything, anything at all to keep my baby.” She clears her throat and when she speaks again she sounds a bit more like herself. “That’s how I know you’ll be great at this. It’s a no brainier.”
I have no idea what to say to her. It’s like she’s given me the best compliment she could ever bestow on anyone—how do you say thank you for that? How do you help fix someone when all of your choices have made it impossible for them to rely on you?
In the end, there’s only one thing I can think of to do—the very thing I came out here for in the first place.
I hold up my phone. “Feel like a detour?”
She looks up and my stomach clenches at the tightness of her face. It must have been harder for her to get that story out than I could imagine. But it clears a little as she peers at my phone and I feel a rush of gratitude to the universe.
“What is that?”
“I did a little re
search for your list,” I explain. “Did you know we’re only an hour away from the Jell-O museum?”
Her face still looks drawn, but she’s smiling now. “We are?”
“We are. And it looks delightfully ridiculous. I think it’s totally essential that we go visit.”
“Is it on the way?” The hopeful note in her voice makes my heart throb.
“Kind of. We might have to rent a car and meet up with the band at the next stop.”
“Can you do that?”
I look into her face, so hopeful and excited, with a shadow of the earlier pain still visible in her features. I wonder, now that I know about it, if I’ll always see that shadow. “I think taking a little break is exactly what I need right now.”
She grins broadly. “Then let’s do it.”
Chapter Fifteen
Paige
As the tour swings south and we enter February, my excitement grows by the day. It’s nearly time for Karen’s spring break, which she’ll be spending on tour with us. If that wasn’t enough to make me happy, I’m starting to really find my groove in the work. I had been skeptical that a rock band could find enough graphic design work to keep me interested for long, but I find myself busy pretty much all day. Even better, I love the work. And love hanging out with Daisy and the guys on the bus. If things with Reed weren’t making me so emotional, it would be perfect. Well, almost perfect.
I’ve never missed Karen so much in my entire life. Since the day we met in kindergarten, we haven’t spent more than a week away from each other. In a life that is too often chaotic and seemingly out of my control, Karen has always been my calm, my center. While my father despaired of my flightiness and distracted tendencies, and my mother ignored them, Karen helped me figure out how to actually deal with them. When I was diagnosed with ADHD it was Karen, at age thirteen, who searched the Internet for articles on how to cope with it. Karen alone sensed my need for order and structure, coming up with schedules and games to keep me on track.
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