by Selena Kitt
“Katie, come here!” She waved me over and I left Jesse and our bags to join both women on the wide front porch.
“Daisy, this is Katie.” Sarah took my hand and squeezed it as I pulled my purse strap up on my shoulder and held my other one out to shake hands with Daisy.
“Nice to meet you.” Daisy had a wide, genuine smile, and small, warm hands. She clasped my hand in both of hers, hazel eyes sweeping over me in quick assessment.
“You too,” I said, wondering how many of “Tyler’s girls” she’d welcomed to the house, but I wasn’t about to ask. “Sarah has only wonderful things to say about you—and your food.”
“And I’m seriously starving for real food,” Sarah complained. “I’ve been living on Pop-Tarts and Ramen for months. And all I had on the plane was a packet of peanuts. What did you make me for lunch?”
“Grilled cheese and tomato soup.” Daisy smiled, turning to push the front door open, her brunette ponytail bouncing as she stepped into the house.
“That’s not gourmet food,” I protested, a little offended by Sarah’s opinion of my pantry and grocery-shopping skills. So, we’d been living on Captain Crunch and Spaghetti-O’s. What was wrong with that? “Even I can make grilled cheese and tomato soup.”
“This isn’t Campbell’s and Kraft slices, Katie.” Sarah laughed over her shoulder, pulling me into the house. “Not even close.”
She wasn’t kidding.
I followed Sarah, who followed Daisy, through a giant foyer that practically echoed when we talked, a chandelier hanging high above. There was a wide, curving staircase, but we went past that, all the way down a hallway to the back of the house. Daisy pushed open a door into the biggest kitchen I’d ever set foot in. It was like something out of a magazine.
Lunch was like something out of a magazine, too. The soup was tomato bisque, with little bits of herbs in it, and the grilled cheese was absolute perfection. Daisy said the cheese was something called Jarlsberg. I’d never had it before, but it was like creamed velvet on my tongue. Sarah moaned over her meal like a woman having the best sex of her life—not that I could blame her.
It was almost as good as sex. Almost.
When we were done eating, Daisy suggested Sarah take me around the house, just to help me get familiar.
“Familiar?” I snorted, sipping my water. I was stuffed. But I’d brought strawberry Pop-Tarts and granola bars to eat on the plane. “You could get lost looking for the bathroom in this house.”
“I have.” Daisy laughed. “It takes a while to get used to. But you should at least show her to Tyler’s room, Sarah. Let her get unpacked?”
Unpacked.
Was this really happening? Was I really going to live here?
“Do you want the grand tour?” Sarah stood and stretched, groaning like she’d eaten too much, too. Then she yawned. “I could use a long nap.”
“Jetlag?” Daisy asked, starting to clear our dishes.
“Nothing compared to what Rob and Ty are gonna have.” Sarah shook her head, glancing at her watch. It was small and delicate, the face surrounded by little diamonds. “We only had a three-hour time change.”
The clock on the wall, shaped like a bamboo cutting board with two hands and no numbers, said it was around noon California time.
“I don’t need a tour,” I said, watching Sarah cover another yawn with the back of her hand. “But I would like a shower.”
“I’ll give you the abbreviated version.” Sarah motioned for me and I stood, slinging my purse over my shoulder.
“Do you want some help?” I offered, handing Daisy my water glass as she reached for it.
“Don’t even ask, she won’t let you,” Sarah interrupted.
“Well it was the best tomato soup and grilled cheese I’ve ever had,” I told her, and Daisy beamed, looking pleased at my compliment.
“Dinner’s at six,” Daisy called as I followed Sarah.
Sarah groaned in mock protest, and I knew how she felt. I thought I’d never be hungry again, after that amazing meal. Who knew grilled cheese and tomato soup could be turned into something so delectable? I couldn’t even imagine what she had planned for dinner.
“Chicken marsala,” Daisy said, as if she’d read my mind and Sarah groaned again, leading me through the kitchen, out onto the back patio where, I discovered, the rest of the “swimming pool” wrapped around the house. It spanned a great deal of the backyard, with a diving board and slide on one end. I looked back at the house, seeing two large balconies on the second floor, which must have a splendid view of the city lights below at night.
“That’s Rob’s room.” Sarah pointed to one of the balconies. “And that’s Tyler’s.”
The balconies were on opposite ends of the house—probably just for privacy reasons, I thought.
“You don’t get a balcony?” I asked.
“I wanted a room on the main floor.” Sarah shrugged. “Wanna see my room?”
“Sure.”
We went back through the kitchen, where Daisy was cleaning up, loading our dishes into the dishwasher. I paused again to ask her if I could help, but she wrinkled her nose and laughed, waving us on, just like Sarah said she would.
We passed a living room with a piano that was bigger than my whole bathroom back home. Sarah’s room, near the front of the house, off the foyer, was bigger than my old living room and kitchen combined. Her suitcase was sitting on her bed—clearly Jesse had delivered it. It was a big bed, at least a queen-size, enough for two or more people. The décor wasn’t overtly feminine—soft yellows and pale blues—but it still felt homey. Her desk was stacked with books, and there were more—psychology textbooks—on the white bookshelves that lined the walls.
“Home.” She sighed, looking happily around. I noticed a picture of a pretty goth girl on the night stand—lots of piercings and tattoos. Anne, I thought, was probably her girlfriend, the way Sarah talked about her, although she hadn’t officially confirmed that.
Funny, she was home, and I was feeling a little homesick, something I hadn’t anticipated. How could I miss a place I’d hated living, which had never really felt like my own? Strange. But it was probably just because everything here was new and different, while everything back in Michigan was at least familiar, if not entirely loved.
“You’ll get used to it,” she assured me, clearly reading the look on my face. She was good at that. “It feels weird at first. So much space. So many rooms. But it won’t take long, I promise.”
I nodded, not quite believing her.
“Come on, I’ll take you to your room.” She hopped off the bed and headed out into the hallway.
I followed, feeling more than a little trepidatious. The house was like a maze, I thought, as she led me out into the foyer and up the stairs. There was a sitting room with the biggest television I’d ever seen—outside of a sports bar—at the top of the curved staircase.
We passed a room full of guitars and I smiled. That was a room I’d expect to see in the home of Rob Burns and Tyler Cook. More closed doors, and I wondered what was behind them. Did this house have servants’ quarters? Just how many rooms did one house need? How could you possibly fill them all with stuff?
“Rob’s room is that way,” Sarah said when the hallway teed off at a giant bay window, pointing to the right. “Tyler’s is this way.”
I glanced out the window, noting the window seat—a perfect place to sit and enjoy the view—and gasped at the scenery. I could see the ocean from here, although it was too far away to walk to.
“It’s like a palace or something,” I said under my breath as Sarah stopped and came back to find me staring out.
She laughed. “Wait until you see Ty’s room.”
His room was more like a suite than a bedroom. One wall was mostly glass, with a sliding door that went out onto a large balcony patio. His bed was huge, king-sized—the thing wouldn’t have even fit through the door in my little bedroom back home—with four-posters and curtains. It was fit for
a king. Or a rock star.
The room itself was very masculine—someone had clearly designed it, in navy blues and grays, offset with a sort of eggshell or cream in various accents. And the walls were that same color, but they weren’t painted, they were wallpapered. I had to reach out and touch it—it looked and even felt a little like creamy satin.
“This is Ty’s bathroom.” Sarah opened another door and I gasped again. The bathroom was bigger than my kitchen back home! His own bathroom. With a shower, a Jacuzzi tub, a sauna and a steam room. Why would anyone ever leave this place? I wondered.
“I am going to shower in there so hard,” I said, making Sarah laugh.
“Go for it.” Sarah yawned and stretched. “I really need a nap now. Too many carbs.”
“So, what’s the plan?” I looked around, thinking about Tyler and the fact that he’d be here with me tomorrow. “Do we just fend for ourselves now or…?”
“Oh, Daisy will call you for dinner.” She nodded to the phone next to the bed. “Like, literally—every phone in the house rings. You won’t miss it.”
I laughed. “You guys take meal time seriously around here.”
“Oh my God, wait until tomorrow.” Sarah rolled her eyes. “If you think today is something. Wait until everyone’s home and Daisy gets to cook for Rob and Ty.”
Just hearing her say it out loud made my skin tingle with excitement. They were coming home. Tyler was coming home. The thought gave me goosebumps.
“Can I go with Jesse to pick them up from the airport?” I asked. I didn’t want to waste another minute of time apart.
“Sure, if you want.” Sarah shrugged. “Okay, I’m going to go take a nap. I’ve got my cell—there’s an intercom, but this is still easier. And less… annoying. If you need me.”
“Thanks.”
“De nada.” She waved my thanks away, but I reached out and touched her forearm, making her stop.
“No, really… thanks,” I said, meeting her eyes. “I mean… for everything.”
“I’m so glad you’re here, Katie.” Sarah covered her hand with mine. “I can’t tell you how happy I am that Tyler met you.”
I raised my eyebrows in disbelief. “Even after… everything?”
“This is the longest he’s been clean, yet,” she reminded me. “I think he’s really going to make it this time. And I think you’ve had a lot to do with that.”
“Me?” I scoffed.
As far as I could tell, I’d done nothing but help him get into trouble. It was only by leaving him—my last-ditch effort to get him help—that I’d managed to save us both. Maybe coming here wasn’t such a great idea, Katie. Maybe you should have stayed home. God, I hated that little voice in my head. I wanted to punch it in the face.
“He really loves you, Katie,” Sarah assured me softly.
Hearing her say the words gave me hope. Had he told her that? Sabrina told me all the time, how much Tyler talked about me on tour. It was good having my best friend there to keep an eye on him, and the reports I’d received were all stellar. Tyler was staying clean. Tyler wasn’t bringing girls back to his hotel room. And when he wasn’t working, he was talking to me.
“I haven’t ever seen him like this with another girl.” She nodded when I looked doubtful—it wasn’t the first time she’d told me this, but I liked hearing it. “I mean it. And I’ve known him… well, a long time now. I’ve seen him with…”
“Lots of other girls?” I prompted, and Sarah sighed.
Oh, I knew it was true. He’d been a total manwhore, before he met me. Girls had thrown their panties and themselves at him, and he’d gone to bed with more than he could probably count. There’d been girls—plural—in practically every city. I’d been one of those—just one of many. And I would have been happy with that, I think. What girl wouldn’t give up everything for one night with her dream-guy rock star?
But Tyler had wanted more. He fell for me—a fact I was still pinching myself over—but I’d fallen for him a long, long time ago. Before I even knew who he was. And now, after everything we’d been through together—I loved him even more than I had before. Because now he was real. And he was mine.
“It’s different, this time,” Sarah told me. “He’s different.”
“Is he?” I worried my lower lip between my teeth. I wanted to believe her. She’d known him longer than I had, after all. I wanted to trust my heart, and my gut, and turn off the switch in my brain that wanted to overthink it all. But I couldn’t. “Sarah, I’m scared.”
“Of what?” Her brow wrinkled as she canted her head at me.
“Of seeing him,” I confessed. Of being with him. Of loving him. “What if it isn’t the same? Or… what if it is? What if we just… do the same thing all over again?”
A knowing look came into her eyes. “You mean, relapse?”
I nodded, feeling my stomach twisting into knots. I could still feel the monkey on my back, like a ghost. It wasn’t there anymore, but it lingered anyway, just around the edges of my vision. I’d gone to more twelve-step meetings and listened to more near-overdose stories than I could count, and still a part of me wanted to chase that dragon. Not to slay it, but to be consumed by it.
“Look, I’ve been there.” Sarah put her hands on my shoulders, turning me so I was looking square into her eyes. “I know it’s scary, thinking about relapse. Like, oh my God, if I relapse, the world is going to end! Everything I’ve worked for will be all for nothing!”
“Yeah,” I agreed miserably.
“But that’s all-or-nothing thinking,” she said, reminding me how smart she was about this stuff. She was getting a degree in it, after all. “That’s addict thinking. And addicts tend to go to extremes, right?”
I nodded. Boy, do we. I’d been going to extremes long before I ever touched heroin, and it was the same for Ty, I knew. And Sarah, too, although she’d stayed with legal drugs, like alcohol, to drown her sorrows, whatever they were. It still stunned me, how much pain people carried around all the time, and no one really knew.
“But relapse, if it happens, teaches you how to get back on the wagon,” Sarah said. “I think most addicts end up relapsing, at least once. Not saying you will—I really hope you don’t. But even if it happens, Katie, it’s not the end. The wagon doesn’t disappear. You can get back on it. I promise.”
“How did you get so smart?” I sniffed. “You’re too young to be so wise.”
“It’s okay to be a little scared.” Sarah put her arms around me and I hugged her back. “It’s good to take a look around before you leap. But don’t let your fear keep you from what you want.”
What I wanted was Tyler, and when Sarah pulled back to meet my eyes, I saw she knew it.
“Keep your cell by you,” she reminded me as she headed toward the door. “That’s how we keep in touch around here.”
“Will do.”
Sarah slipped back out into the hall and I looked around Tyler’s room in wonder. Some part of me was still fan-girling. Silly, but true. I’d been on tour with the man, I’d slept in his bed, we’d done heroin together, for God’s sake, but that had been different. That was on the road. This? This was more permanent. I was in another state. I was in his bedroom. My suitcase was on his bed.
I stared at my rolling case in disbelief. Jesse had put it there, I was sure. What in the hell was I doing here? Was it really happening? Or was this some fantasy I was spinning out, telling tales to Sabrina about how someday we were going to meet Trouble, and Rob would fall in love with her, and Tyler would fall in love with me, and we would go out on tour with them, and…
And then we would wake up?
I went and closed the bedroom door—it felt like I was crossing a football field to do it, my feet sinking into the soft, navy plush carpet instead of Astroturf. I debated locking it but decided against it. I opened my suitcase and looked at my stuff. Where would I put it?
Glancing around, I debated. Tyler had a bureau with a mirror over it. Two night stands. Another bu
reau, a tall one with no mirror, in the corner. An armoire on the opposite wall. They all matched, which was more than I could say for my Goodwill furniture. But I felt weird opening his drawers to see if any of them were empty.
In the end, I just put my suitcase on the top of the dresser, next to a big container filled with Twizzlers. I had to smile at that—Tyler was a licorice fanatic. Clearly someone—Daisy?—was prepared for his homecoming. There was another bowl beside it, frosted glass, with a lid. I lifted it, expecting more candy, but instead it was filled with condom packages.
Yep, they were definitely ready for Tyler to come home.
I pulled out what I’d need for my shower. And a bathing suit, because I didn’t think I could resist the siren call of that giant wrap-around pool for long. Sarah might have been tired after all the packing and moving and flying, but I was the opposite. I was wired. And likely would be, until Tyler got home tomorrow. I glanced at the big bed, knowing I was going to have to try to sleep in it tonight somehow. Alone.
But tomorrow, he’d be home, and sleeping in it with me.
I went into the bathroom and shut the door, deciding against the lock again—although that felt a little weird. What if someone walked in? The shower was all glass, even if it was frosted. But who would do that? I hadn’t seen anyone, except Daisy and Jesse. And Sarah was off to take a nap. I just wanted a quick shower to wash off the grime of traveling. Even if it was only a couple hours on a plane, somehow flying always made me feel icky.
I thought about running water in the giant Jacuzzi, but that would take too long. Instead, I stripped down to nothing and reached in to start the shower, getting the surprise of my life. Water came out from everywhere! All over the walls, from three directions. I sputtered in surprise, getting in so I wouldn’t get the floor soaking wet, trying to work the controls. By the time I had it figured out, the water was warm, and oh my God, did it feel fantastic!
I soaped up and washed my hair, which was an interesting process, because the water spray didn’t stop, and it was hard to find a corner of the shower where I could hide long enough to actually get the soap and shampoo to suds up.
