by Scott, S. L.
He asks, “What is it?”
“He showed up today before our sound check.”
Tulsa takes a few steps back. “What? How?”
“I don’t know. He snuck in?”
His blue eyes are dark, and his pupils widen, a menacing darkness overlapping the lighter shades. “What happened?”
“I’ve already put a call in to Tommy. I’ll have security for the show, so don’t freak out, okay?”
“No, it’s not okay. How the fuck did he get in? Tell me what happened?”
I hesitate, which is a mistake. I can see the worry turning to anger as his expression filters between the two emotions. “I’m shaken, but Tommy’s on it.”
Telling him is almost as bad as living it. I hate that he feels helpless. “He could have hurt you.”
“He didn’t.”
“He got away?”
“Yes, but I really don’t think he’ll be back. He could have hurt me . . . he could have done anything, but he didn’t. He just looked at me and then left.”
I tell him everything because we’re an us now, and that means honesty, even at the expense of upsetting each other.
“That doesn’t sound like a reason to travel. He could have done that online.”
“I know. It doesn’t make sense, but he never did. ‘I only want to see you.’ That’s all he said.”
“He’s psychotic.” He rubs his hands over his face, the stress aging him in mere seconds. “I need you safe, Nikki. You’re my heart.”
“It was nothing. I swear.” I keep the finer details of fear out of it. The truth is I am fine. I move against him, and he protects me in his arms. I lean my head against him and listen to the strong beat of his heart. “I love you, but please don’t worry about this. Even though I didn’t tell Laird, he’s on edge because of my behavior this afternoon. Tommy said I’ll be covered.”
Tulsa’s unsettled. Though he’s muscular, he’s always been gentle with me. Now his arms are tense, the muscles unforgiving. Despite what I tell him, his gut tells him another story. “I’m going to talk to Tommy.”
“You can’t.” I pull back and grab his hands, as if that will ease his concerns. “Please, just trust that it’s taken care of. I’m not ready to explain what we are to others when we’ve just defined it ourselves.”
“You’re asking me to take a back seat to your safety?”
“I am,” I reply, standing firm on the matter. “It’s not fair, I know, but please trust me.”
“I do trust you. I don’t—”
“You don’t trust him. Neither do I, but he knows he won’t get away with this twice. We’re going to continue the tour as if this didn’t happen.”
“You’re asking a lot.”
“I know.”
The anger still resides in his eyes, but his stance eases. “Come to me if anything else happens or you suspect anything at all. Promise?”
“I promise. I love you, Tulsa. It’s you I knew I needed to be with to calm me. Thank you for being here for me.”
“There’s no other place I’d rather be, Nik. Ever.”
* * *
Throughout dinner, Tulsa’s worries are worn heavy in the lines of his face. He’s too young to look that upset. I rub his leg under the table, hoping to help. Squeezing my hand covertly, he whispers, “You swear you’re all right?”
“I am.”
“Okay.”
The heaviness starts to lift. I think having his nephew here helps as well. Hannah is sweet, but Jet’s son, Alfie, is adorable—smart and funny—so much like his cute uncle. He brings out the fun side of Tulsa again.
I sit back and enjoy being a part of the family dinner. Seeing Jet with Hannah is inspiring; their love is palpable. They don’t do big displays of affection. It’s little touches and shared glances, smiles for each other, and whispers. I don’t think he’s taken his eyes off her all night, except when Alfie sits on his lap. Then he becomes the proud papa.
Alfie looks so much like his dad, but I can’t help but notice that when it comes to hair and eye color, Tulsa stands out. Leaning forward, I take note of Rivers. They all have the same amazing olive skin tone, but each varies a shade or two in hair color. Jet’s hair matching his name and then going lighter to Tulsa.
Rivers stands when his phone lights up. “I’m going to take this.”
Alfie jumps into his seat and pretends to eat his uncle’s dinner. He’s stopped when he picks up his pint. Hannah sends him back to his own seat, and while he eats a big meatball, she says, “I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you, Nikki. But, tell me, how do you put up with these guys all the time?”
“I suspect the same way you do,” I joke. “This business is male dominated, so I’m used to being around them. Their band is an exception because they’re all such gentlemen.”
“Even Tulsa?” She acts surprised, but he’s told me how close they are.
“Even Tulsa,” I reply, patting him playfully on the back.
When Rivers returns, Hannah asks, “Everything okay?”
“No,” he says, taking his pint glass in hand and emptying it. “I got some bad news.”
Tulsa asks, “Want to talk about it?”
“Nope. I sure don’t.” Raising his hand in the air, he tries to get the server’s attention.
Tulsa mouths to me, “His ex.” The last word seems to sour on his tongue because his lips pinch together.
Alfie comes around and climbs on Tulsa’s lap. A perfect distraction. He doesn’t ask, and Tulsa takes him without complaint. I watch as they color Alfie’s picture together. Their hair and eye coloring may not match, but their profiles do. My heart pings to life watching them together. Tulsa holds him effortlessly with one arm and talks to him like he’s an equal.
Their relationship is easy, just how it should be. I can tell Alfie feels safe, the same way Tulsa makes me feel. The man is amazing. He’s known Alfie for such a short time, but he’s so comfortable with him. How did I get so lucky?
Andrés no longer has a hold on me. I won’t give up a minute of this for the fear he wants to instill in me.
Dragging me from my thoughts, Alfie taps his green crayon against my shoulder. “Are you Uncle Tulsa’s girlfriend?”
With that simple question, I become the center of attention. I swear it seems like the whole restaurant stopped eating to listen in. Tulsa chuckles, but all eyes are still on me. Guess he’s not saving me this time. “I, uh, I’m his friend and I’m a girl. What about you?” Deflect. “Do you have friends who are girls?”
“Lucy likes me because she hit me three times. I told her we don’t hit the ones we like.”
“You’re right.” I boop him on the nose.
“Now she hands me notes at school with lovebird words.” Lovebird words. Oh, my goodness. Can he be any cuter? After an exasperated sigh, his head goes back like he’s annoyed, but I don’t know if he knows what he’s annoyed about.
“Better get used to it, kid. You’re a cutie pants like your unc—like your uncles and dad.”
“She told me she wants to kiss me.” Shrugging, he starts coloring again. “The only girl I want to kiss is Mommy. What do I do, Uncle Tulsa?”
My gaze slips across the table to Hannah, who has pure love for Alfie in her eyes.
Jet steps in to take this one. “No kissing. You’re too young.”
Turning to face Tulsa, Alfie asks, “When did you start kissing girls?”
I elbow Tulsa. “Yeah, when did you start kissing girls?”
“I feel like I was just set up by a seven-year-old.” Tickling Alfie, he asks, “Are you two in this together?”
“Save me, Nikki.”
Pretending to battle the tickle monster, I see the light in Tulsa’s eyes, and it shines down on me.
This is how it could be. This is how he’d be with a family and with me.
My hands momentarily stop when I realize I want this. I never knew if I would, but seeing them together—laughing, loving, living—I want th
is. And I hope to God he wants it too.
20
Nikki
The lights blast the stage, and with my pick in hand, I raise my arms into the air. “Are we ready to rock, Vegas?”
The crowd goes wild, and Shane counts down for us all to kick in at the same time. Singing and playing my guitar center stage gives me an amazing vantage point to take it in—this show, the audience, the pure amazingness of this night.
I spy Lauralee in the audience on the left side. While I continue playing, I see her pointing behind her. Her mouth is wide open in joy. Glancing behind her, I discover why she’s freaking out. Tulsa is right there rockin’ out to the song, enjoying my music like every other fan in this place. I caught one of his performances from the front row but never told him. He couldn’t see me from the raised stage he sits on, but he was incredible.
Leaning back, I make sure to stay in the music, despite the handsome distraction. How can I not enjoy this? I was just a beach girl from La Jolla. Now I’m performing in front of thousands of music lovers almost every night.
As if that wasn’t enough, I found love in the middle of the chaos. I didn’t think I had the ability to love, but a certain sweet-talking Texan with oceanic blue eyes showed me how to not just live but to love this life, and him. How is this real life when two and a half years ago I thought my mine was over?
Tulsa. He’s the answer to everything.
The song ends, and I grab my bottle of water and drink to coat my throat. I set my guitar on the stand and return to the mic to share the story that inspired the next song. “A few years ago, I went through a rough time. I didn’t know where I fit in or if I even could. I rebelled against everything in the world where I was raised. I made really bad choices, and I wasn’t happy.”
I take the microphone from the stand and walk to my brother. Standing next to him, I peek at him and then to Tulsa. “I finally realized it wasn’t the world I was rebelling against. It was me. I wasn’t happy with myself. That was the day I decided to make the most of my life. I put the bad behind me and filled my life with the things I love. I surrounded myself with people who believed in me.” I give Laird’s shoe a playful little kick. “Like this guy here”—I point at Shane—”and that guy back there.”
He blows me a kiss, and I can almost hear the ovaries exploding behind me in the crowd. He’ll get lucky tonight. I wouldn’t have survived without them. My family. “Two of the best men I know.”
Walking back center stage, I wrap it up. “Some of you can relate, so I want you to know it’s not about fitting into other people’s vision of beauty. It’s about letting the world know who you are—inside and out. It’s your time to let your brand of beauty shine because you are worth more than sleepless nights.”
The crowd knows all the songs from our extended play album, but this new one has become our biggest hit on tour. I start singing—no music, no band, just fifteen thousand people and me harmonizing together.
The equipment manager hands me my acoustic guitar and places the stool behind me. I sit down and start playing just as Laird, Jagger, and Shane join in on the song.
Kismet—everything has come together. When I find Tulsa again, I know it’s not just the timing in music that matters, but in life too. And our time has just begun.
* * *
“Nikki said you were even better looking in person. She was right.”
Lauralee has never been shy, but Tulsa appears to be from the compliment. When his eyes find me again, he says, “Thanks. Glad to hear she thinks so.” Getting up from the couch, he comes over to me and puts his hand on my hip not worried that Lauralee can hear and see everything. “I have a surprise for you later.”
Rolling my eyes, I say, “I’ve seen your dic—”
“Not that. Though I hope you’ll be seeing more of that too.” Taking my hand, he adds, “See you later, darlin’.”
After he leaves the dressing room, I take Lauralee by the wrist and lead her out of the room. We’re instantly giggling like the silly girls we are when she says, “He’s so cute.”
“So cute.”
“When he called you darlin’ in that sexy, Southern accent, I about died.” She quick shuffles her feet in front of me, and before I can get a word in, she adds, “How do you not spontaneously combust just looking at all the hotness on this tour? Like for real?”
“It’s a struggle every day. Welcome to my world.”
“I like your world. A lot.”
* * *
My phone rings, and I sit up on the bed to grab it, smiling when I see the name OK on the screen.
“Who’s OK?” Lauralee sits up from her bed to peek at the nightstand between us where my phone is charging.
“The abbreviation for Oklahoma. Tulsa.”
“Ah. Clever.”
I answer it while slipping on my flip-flops. “Hey there.”
“Hey,” he replies but doesn’t sound like himself. “Do you have a few minutes?” His voice is deeper than usual, almost somber.
“I thought we were seeing each other later?”
“We are. I hope we still are, but I need to talk to you before then.”
“Is everything all right?”
“Yeah. It’s fine. Can you come to my room?”
“You’re making me nervous, Tulsa. What’s going on?”
He sighs, and I can hear the heaviness in his breath. “I want to talk about what you told me earlier.”
Oh. “Okay. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
When we hang up, Lauralee asks, “You okay?”
“Yes. I told him what Andrés did to me.”
Her sympathetic expression, along with a deep breath, reminds me of what we all went through back then. “I didn’t tell him everything, and he has a few questions, I assume. I would.”
“It will be good to get it off your chest. Have you told anyone before?”
“No.”
Her smile appears. “That says a lot.”
It does. I trust him, and because I can see us being together after the tour is over, I need to tell him. “He’s seen it, so he should know the truth behind it.”
“It’s not that bad. It’s healed decently.”
“It’s still hideous, but it’s better than what was there.”
When I walk to the door, she says, “Love you, Nik.”
“Love you.”
Standing in front of his door, I look down at my feet before closing my eyes and gathering the strength to share the rest of my stained past with a man I don’t want to lose. Will Tulsa run when I tell him? I’ve closed myself off to relationships for this very reason. I won’t be able to handle his rejection.
When I lift my chin and open my eyes, Tulsa is standing in front of me. I find comfort and a sense of peace in his deep-sea blue eyes. He holds his hand out and I take it, putting my trust in the man in front of me.
I already know I can share the ugly parts of my past as well as the pretty parts. Although he might have some commitment issues, judging by his not so pretty past, he’s not easily scared.
I walk inside ready to dump the bad so we can move forward to find the good together.
Once I’m in his room, he gives me space to move around, whether I want it or not, which puts me on edge. He says, “I thought it was important for us to talk in light of your ex showing up. I need to know everything. I know what he did, and that his name isn’t there anymore. What else happened?”
“I want you to know everything.” He sits in a chair by the window, and I take a seat at the end of the bed. Deep breath. “I wanted the name gone. Every day, I woke and saw it. Every night, I went to bed knowing he controlled me even though I’d left. I was ashamed, and I wanted to feel like me again.” I look out the window behind him. “To add insult to injury, it formed a keloid. His name was scarred into my flesh as red and angry as he used to be.”
The dots connect in his eyes before he turns away, trying to hide his next emotion. He can’t. Not from me, just like I can
’t hide from him.
I can’t keep this all to myself anymore, so I keep talking. “I was so innocent when I met him.” I laugh under my breath. “Though I thought I knew everything. I was wrong, so wrong. He ruined me. His family had money. Dirty money, but money that could buy him get out of jail cards by the deck. We partied hard, and I pulled away from my family and friends. He messed with my head. I thought because he was so in love with the way I looked it was real love. It wasn’t. That’s why him wanting to look at me again doesn’t surprise me. He never cared about who I was on the inside. I was nothing more than a trophy on his arm to match the gold he wore around his neck.” I push up and start to pace, picking at the polish on my left hand. “The more he was pressured to work for his father, the more he changed. He became abusive. Verbally mostly, but he slapped me once. Only once.”
I stop in front of him, and he reaches out and holds me by the hips. “He’s lucky I’ve not met him.” He pulls me onto his lap.
I wrap my arm around his shoulders and take a deep breath. “When I told him I was breaking up with him, he wanted to ruin the thing he loved most about me—”
“Your looks.”
“Yes, how I looked. I should note, though not lightly, his friend talked him out of cutting my face.”
“What the fuck? He’s deranged.”
I take a deep breath and close my eyes. Tulsa was right about where and how some people wear their scars. Perhaps my outlook would have been different had he marred the external thing that had brought me success in pageants—my face. “His compromise was to cut me so I couldn’t compete in pageants. What he didn’t realize was he’d already damaged me too much on the inside to do that anymore anyway.”
“He’s a sick motherfucker. If his friend hadn’t been there . . .” Tulsa’s head drops forward.
The topic of conversation has a way of weighing me down as well, even years later. “I’m here, and it’s only a few inches—”
“A few inches? I’m glad you’ve found peace with this, but it’s fresh to me, and I have to say, I’m struggling. I would fucking kill him if I saw him right now.”
