“I hope so.” I scrub a hand over my jaw.
The announcer on the radio comes on and says, “We have a brand new single to share with you today coming from a band you might’ve heard of and if you haven’t … well, you’ll definitely know them now. Here’s The Wild with Midnight Eyes.”
The song starts with a soft pattering of drums and my whole body seizes for a moment, because that’s me. That’s me playing the drums on a song that’s playing on the fucking radio.
What the ever-loving fuck? How is this real life?
My throat closes up and I listen carefully to every lyric and every beat of my drums in the background. I’ve heard the final version of the song many times in the studio, but nothing compares to hearing it on the fucking radio where across the states thousands more are listening to it and will be hearing it all day long.
It’s not often dreams come true, but when it does it shatters walls, walls you’ve built to protect your heart from the fact you might never reach them.
When the song ends, we sit there in silence. For once I have no cocky words or a smile to toss out. I need a moment to process this, the enormity of it all.
Finally, I look at Kira and I’m surprised to find her crying, not full on crying but a few tears and it’s enough to stun me into further silence.
She looks at me in awe, her lips tilted in a small smile.
“Rush,” she breathes my name, “this is going to change your life. Nothing will be the same for you guys.”
“I know,” I croak. “I know.”
9
Kira
I still can’t get over hearing The Wild’s first single on the radio. Sharing it with Rush is something incredibly special. I don’t even want to touch on my feelings when it comes to the matter. If I think too much into it I’ll spiral down a deep dark hole I won’t be able to climb out of.
God, I’m a fucking mess when it comes to him. I can barely understand my own thoughts half the time. I’m pathetic.
I can’t believe I said all I did to him this morning and I’m even more surprised by his reaction. I thought a guy like him would be eager to cut ties and be free to fuck anyone he wants.
This thing between us is confusing to me. I know I don’t have feelings for him that way, but I do like him and that’s where the complication lies.
I’ve always avoided attachments. Mia is the only person I’ve talked to and seen on a regular basis the last few years.
I don’t talk to my mother—at all. I have no desire to hear from her, talk to her, or even look at her. Not after the hell I had to go through growing up, because even after my father beat her to within an inch of her life, she still insisted on dating the worst of the worst, the slimiest guys she could find. The final straw for me was when her last boyfriend I know about, Trevor, tried to touch me. I was weeks away from graduating and stayed with Mia after that. Thank God her parents are as cool as they are and let me stay as long as I needed to. I’d been working since I was fifteen, and I stayed with them through that summer saving every penny so I could afford my own place before classes started at the local University where I received a full ride scholarship. Without that, I couldn’t have gone to school. I’ve always wanted nothing more than to get my degree, get a good paying job, and never live a life like my mother.
It’s why I’ve stuck so firmly by my rule of one-night stands only. I refuse to let a man degrade me and beat me like I’m nothing, like I’m beneath him because I’m a woman.
Then Rush came along and we agreed we didn’t want a relationship, but we both liked sex and it would be convenient for the both of us if we fucked each other instead of having to seek someone new out anytime we wanted a roll in the sack.
Nothing’s been wrong with our arrangement all this time, except for us both starting to like each other.
I don’t do boyfriends, and I don’t do friends—especially not guy friends.
So, this is weird for me.
I tried to get him to end the agreement, but we’re at an impasse because frankly I don’t want to end it either. I was only hoping he’d do it because it felt like the necessary thing to do.
I leave my class heading to the cafeteria to grab a snack. It’s not even lunchtime and I had a hearty breakfast with Rush of biscuits and sausage gravy but I’m already ravenous.
I enter the cafeteria and grab a bottle of Coke and a cereal bar. I swipe my student ID card and find a table to sit at.
I open my bottle of Coke and take a greedy sip, twisting the cap between my fingers.
If Mia wasn’t in class I’d ask her to meet me, but it seems like this semester we’re on totally different schedules. She’s studying music, wanting to get into producing and other things that are all gibberish to me. I chose nursing as my area of study. It wasn’t an easy choice for me to make and one I question often, but in the end, I decided I wanted to help people. I didn’t want my life to be completely useless. If I can be a part of saving someone’s life then it’ll all be worth it. But now that we’re getting into the nitty gritty of everything I’m only on campus once a week and spend the rest of my time at the local hospital shadowing different doctors.
Who knows if I’ll actually do anything good with it, but I at least have to try.
I open my cereal bar as some dude sits next to me with … I smell the air, my stomach rolls.
No. Not here. Not now.
The smell of the chili he’s about to eat hits me like an eighteen-wheeler plowing straight into my body—and my body is not at all pleased about it.
I abandon my cereal bar and Coke, running for the nearest bathroom.
I smash into the swinging door and into the closest empty stall. I drop to my knees as the entire contents of my stomach sprays into the toilet. I feel tears burn my eyes as my body tries to get every last bit out of my system.
When I’m sure I’m done throwing up I stand, not daring to sit on the unsanitary floor, and lean my back against the wall of the stall, tilting my head up.
I take a moment to think, to process, and then I text Mia.
I pace the length of my apartment, which isn’t much so it’s a miracle I haven’t worn a hole straight through the floor.
I came home after the bathroom incident, my nerves were shot and I knew I couldn’t stomach sitting through class the rest of the day.
Asking Mia to ditch her classes for me wasn’t easy, but much needed, because I can’t do this alone.
A light knock raps against the door and I rush to open it, yanking her inside.
“Did anyone we know see you?”
“No,” she insists, holding the plastic drugstore bag out to me, “but why am I buying this, Kira?” She stares me down, daring me to deny it.
My bottom lip quivers and tears sting my eyes. Fear clings to me like a bucket of slime has been poured over my head. “Because I think I’m pregnant.”
We stare at each other, neither of us saying a word. Tears form in her eyes, mirroring the ones in mine.
“Kira,” she whispers my name.
“I know, I know,” I cry, exasperated. “I have to be wrong. I mean, I’m on birth control. I never miss a dose. You know how anal retentive I am with it and Rush always wears a condom. I mean, surely between both those preventatives I can’t be pregnant.”
I know from my studies, I could be. Nothing is fool proof and with my track record of luck, I would be the person to end up knocked up using two preventive measures.
Mia inhales a shaky breath. Somehow it makes me feel better to know she’s as nervous as I am.
“It’s got to be negative,” she says, but I can see the doubt in her eyes too.
I rip the plastic bag off the ridiculous pink cardboard box.
“Here goes nothing,” I say, and head to the bathroom.
I leave the door open and Mia leans in the doorway. We’re best friends. We’ve seen it all. What difference does it make if I’m peeing on a stick that might change the course of my life forever?
I don’t have to keep the baby. I could get an abortion. Or put it up for adoption.
I don’t have to become a mother if I don’t want to, if I’m not ready, which I’m definitely not.
Somehow I manage to pee on the stupid stick. My hands shake the entire time and I’m not sure I’ve done it right, but it doesn’t seem like it’s that difficult to screw up.
Placing it on the counter I wash my hands and cross my arms over my chest.
“How long?” I ask Mia and she picks up the box.
“It says five minutes.”
“Ugh,” I groan, “this is going to be the longest five minutes of my life.”
“Come on.” She grabs my arm, tugging me out of the bathroom. “Standing in here is doing you no good.”
“What else am I going to do?” I shriek, diving for the couch and landing on my stomach. I grab one of the throw pillows and cradle it under me.
She looks at me worriedly and perches on the coffee table in front of me.
“Kira,” she says softly like she’s afraid I’m a bomb she might detonate if she makes too much noise or moves the wrong way.
“What?” I reply bleakly.
I can see my entire future, everything I’ve worked for and strived for going up in flames. If I’m pregnant I don’t see how I’ll ever be able to salvage anything.
“It’s going to be okay. No matter what it says, it’ll be okay.”
Tears sting my eyes. “You can’t know that.”
“No, I don’t—but I have faith.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m glad one of us does, but realistically I know there’s no way this can work out well for me. It’s just not possible,” I mutter.
She reaches for my hand, pulling it away from the pillow. “I know you think you’re alone, but you’re not. If you’re having a baby, I’ll help you, and you know my parents will—God, my mom would spoil a baby silly—it’ll be okay.”
“Even if I am pregnant…” I pause, not sure I want to say my thoughts out loud, fearing her judgment. “I don’t have to have it.”
“Kira,” she says my name slightly in shock, but surprisingly with no judgment. Shaking her head she says, “If it comes to that I’ll support whatever you choose. But it could be negative.”
I want to believe that, I really do, but I don’t.
I’ve been feeling tired and draggy, I was so sick to my stomach with my cold and I’ve never thrown up from a common cold before, and if I go back and think I can’t remember the last time my period decided to pay me a visit. I’ve been so busy with school and work I haven’t had time to spare a thought for it. Now, I feel pathetic for not realizing sooner.
Mia looks at her phone screen, then me. “You can go look now if you want.”
I don’t want to. I want to avoid this reality for as long as I possibly can. I want to live in this blissful little bubble of not officially knowing where I can delude myself into believing it’s not true.
As easy as it would be to ignore this, I can’t. I have to be a big girl and face my reality.
I ease off the couch and stand. For a moment I don’t move. I give myself one minute longer to live without knowing before I face my fate.
I walk back to the bathroom and Mia follows. She doesn’t say a word but her presence is calming. I’m damn lucky to have a best friend like her. I step in front of the counter and let my eyes drop to the test.
Two pink lines stare treacherously back at me.
A sob bubbles out of my throat, and I turn, sinking to my butt with my back against the standard oak front bathroom cabinet.
Mia sits down beside me, wrapping her arms around me.
She holds me close and lets me cry into her shoulder, not saying a word, just being there.
10
Rush
The guys and I clink our bottles together, out to celebrate our first radio single together with Hayes and the rest of his band. It still feels like a fucking dream that Joshua Hayes, the guitarist for Willow Creek, is working with us. His band has reached international success few bands have ever seen. To have him on board with us, producing, mentoring … fuck, it’s an experience people would kill for.
“This is the first step on a journey you four will never forget,” Hayes begins his speech. “Cherish every moment, each small step and each big one. It’s not something many get to experience, but lots dream of.”
I take a sip of my beer, feeling a bit choked up. There’s something surreal about today, about this whole experience. I find myself questioning whether or not I need to pinch myself to see if this is real.
Two waiters appear, passing out our plates of food. My stomach rumbles. In my excitement I haven’t been able to eat since breakfast and it’s after six now. I’m so hyped up I’m not sure I’ll be able to go to sleep tonight. There’s a restless energy stirring inside me and normally the only thing that can settle it is booze and sex.
But I already sent Kira a text, asking if I could come over after dinner, and she said she wasn’t feeling well again and had homework to do. A part of me wants to show up, but her place is her space and I don’t want to make her feel uncomfortable like she’s not allowed to be alone or something.
As per our deal, I can’t sink myself into any other woman. Even if the hot bartender is eye-fucking me. Normally, I’d be all over her in a heartbeat, and even with the deal I’ve struck with Kira most guys would probably say screw it and break it. But I can’t bring myself to do it. My word is my honor, and I swore to her as long as we’re fucking, I won’t sleep with anyone else and she agreed to those terms as well.
“Have you seen if they can play at Clarke County Fair?” Maddox asks Hayes.
I pick up a fry, dipping it in ketchup before popping it in my mouth.
Hayes nods. “I’m still working out the details.”
“What’s that?” Fox asks.
“Local fair not far from here, they always have live music. We’ve performed there many times,” Hayes says, swishing his fingers through the air before they close around his bottle of beer. “It usually draws in a decent crowd. I know you all have performed at festivals, which are some pretty big venues at times, and this would be nothing of that magnitude but I think right now stuff like this projects the kind of image we want.”
“You mean one of completely fucking boring?” I interject jokingly.
Hayes shakes his head, fighting a smile. “Not completely, but I don’t need you dancing on bars with half-naked chicks either.”
I tip my bottle in his direction. After all, there’s not much I can say since I did do that.
When I’m wasted I do stupid shit. I can’t help it.
“With you putting all this time into them, when are we going to record our new album?” Mathias asks in a low voice. His face is almost always pulled into a sneer.
The guy is scary and intimidating—nothing at all like his carefree, jokester of a twin Maddox.
Maddox pushes his brother’s shoulder. “Shut up, man. We’ve got time. It’s only been a year since our last album. We’ve gotta make the people wait or they’ll get bored with us.”
Mathias huffs out a breath.
Hayes shakes his head and Ezra mutters, “Ignore Mathias. He’s just a salty bastard.”
“Did you just use the word salty to describe me?” Mathias asks, and if I didn’t know better, I would swear he’s trying not to laugh.
Ezra shrugs. “Everly taught it to me. It means when you’re upset over something stupid—which in your case is basically everything. Why Remy puts up with your shit is beyond me.” Ezra cracks a joking smile.
Mathias hides his answering smile by lifting his glass of whiskey to his lips. “Remy loves me. It’s more than I can say for you assholes.”
I can’t help but smile at the way they interact together, because it’s the same as my friends and me. I can only hope that if we reach the same kind of success they have, that we mana
ge to remain as close.
My friends are like family. They’ve been there for me through everything and vice versa. Losing my parents … I barely endured it with their help, fuck I’m still coping with it, but if I hadn’t had them … it terrifies me to think of what kind of path I might have gone down.
Hayes clears his throat, looking at the four of us where we sit at the end of the table. “Depending on the reception Midnight Eyes gets I think we should shoot a music video in a couple of months. Today, all indicators are good, but it’s only the first day and I want to gauge the lasting power of the song before we splurge on a video. It might be something better saved for down the road.”
“Whatever you think is best,” Cannon says.
“You’re the boss,” Hollis pipes in, and Hayes gives a small laugh.
Hollis only considers Hayes the boss when the rules and ideas are easy to follow—but Hayes saying his daughter was off limits? Of course Hollis was never going to listen to that. You can’t dangle a tasty morsel like her in front of Hollis and not expect him to act. I don’t think he ever intended to fall in love with her, but somehow he did, and I think maybe even before something happened between them he realized his feelings were far more serious than he ever anticipated.
The rest of the dinner is spent chatting and eating. It’s cool to get to hang out with Willow Creek—to hear their tales and get advice. Afterwards we part ways and I head back to the hotel with Fox and Cannon—Hollis, strolling in the opposite direction to Mia’s apartment.
“Not seeing Kira tonight?” Cannon asks with a raised brow as we step into the elevator.
“Nope.” I shake my head, which is a bad idea after too many drinks. Maybe one day I’ll learn to stop instead of keep going. I always drank too much in high school at parties, as long as I didn’t have any basketball games, and when my parents died I turned to alcohol even more. Since that first night when we arrived in D.C. I haven’t gotten that wasted again, but it’s only because I’ve been spending so much time with Kira engaging in my other vice.
Wild Flame (The Wild: A Rock Star Romance Book 2) Page 9