“Baby, you’re thinking of this as an ending, but it’s only the beginning. I know we don’t have specifics worked out yet, but we are going to be together. You can tour with me every year, especially if you didn’t have a job to worry about.”
I snorted. “Okay, sugar daddy, that won’t happen. But, maybe I can work as a therapist part time and choreograph part time so I’m more flexible or something?” I felt silly even saying it, like I was talking about someone else’s dream life.
His melodic voice pulled at my heartstrings again as he said, “All I know is our last show is on Saturday night, and you need to inform Blevins that the next week is your vacation, because I’m not letting you go. Plus, you’ve worked four months straight on a crazy schedule and deserve a week off. We’ll go anywhere you want.”
“I feel like we’ve been on this wild adventure already and travelled so much. I’m ready to hole up at home with you and just do completely normal things. How is that for weird?”
His face showed teasing distaste. “Yeah, that’s pretty damn weird. I was hoping you’d say Hawaii or Fiji, but whatever …”
I smacked him with a pillow, starting an all-out pillow fight until we collapsed in fatigue and finally drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 43
Apparently, there was another new song in the works, because the band holed up in the gray bus for several hours the following day to rehearse. I was under strict orders to steer clear, which is usually how it went when Jackson was not yet confident in his new material. I wondered on which song in the notebook he may be working.
The quiet time worked out well, because after our therapy session that morning, I had to write a re-evaluation with measurement updates and my recommendation for discharge from therapy. He was doing so well now. He had long ago met the short-term goals set, and the only long-term goal we had yet to conquer was running. I adjusted my plan of care to require one more week to wrap up and finalize his home exercise program before a formal discharge. I also submitted my request for the following week off for vacation, knowing it was short notice, but also knowing my contract was for a flexible amount of time and they weren’t counting on my return to the clinic yet.
I finished my choreography projects after lunch, when there was still no sign of the guys. Ashley called just before dinnertime, and I filled her in on Dad’s visit, and she told me about the new medical resident she met on the cardiac floor yesterday.
“We’re going out Friday night. He’ll be a great guy to fill the time until you hook me up with Kenny,” she explained, making me laugh as always.
Jack brought the guys to our bus, just I was heating up leftovers Gloria had stocked for us. They joined in piling plates high with an odd mix of favorite dishes while we sat together, and I enjoyed another night with my new family.
The next morning was the day before the last show, and Jackson pleaded for a few more hours of secrecy while the band finalized their new music. I pouted for a moment and then remembered I needed to finish my case study. We agreed to have couple time after one o’clock. I lost myself in my computer, adding in all of the most recent information and completing my references. By afternoon, I had a complete rough draft done and e-mailed to Dr. Gray for the first round of revisions.
After Jackson strolled in right on time, we headed down the main strip to find a quiet café for lunch. There was no such thing as low-key during the summer in Myrtle Beach, but the crowds did help to conceal Jack’s identity. He pulled his baseball hat low, and he wore very nondescript t-shirt, shorts, and Nikes. He had bemoaned not being able to wear flip-flops yet, but I wasn’t taking chances with his ankle on my watch.
After filling up on seafood, we strolled down the shops to look for souvenirs. It became clear the cashier in the first beach shop was onto him. As we browsed around the postcards, seashells, and beach bags, we heard the young girl behind the counter say, “Y’know, you look like somebody famous … like that one country dude. What’s his name?”
I smothered a snicker as I browsed a rack of beach towels. Jack chuckled. “Yeah, if I had a nickel for every time I heard that.”
She shrugged and went back to playing on her phone while I pulled a wide-brimmed straw hat off the shelf and plunked it on his head.
“Now, this will hide you much better than a baseball hat. You know, when you’re often seen at shows and in videos wearing a ball hat, it doesn’t serve as much of a disguise anymore. Now, this big hat, it covers your face, and no one would suspect—”
He groaned. “Yeah, they wouldn’t suspect I’d go around looking like a total idiot.” He still tried it on in the mirror, making us both laugh.
All I could do was speak the truth. “Honestly, you still look really hot.” He rewarded me with The Grin, making my automatic blush response kick in. I turned away to look at some cheap jewelry on the next counter.
“I need to find something for Ashley’s birthday next week,” I murmured as I sifted through necklaces.
“Oh, while we’re on our staycation?” he teased. “Perfect timing, we can all go celebrate.”
“Well, just fair warning: she’ll want you to bring Kenny Chesney gift wrapped.”
He sidled next to me as I spun the rack of coral bracelets, and I sighed. “Nothing in here is over ten bucks. I need to find something nicer for her.” I picked up a huge costume ring with a single phony emerald stone in a circular cut. “Unless you think she would fall for this being real?”
He laughed. “Uh, not a chance in hell, baby. That is one fake stone. The blue one looks slightly more real?” He held it up to the light, and we both grimaced.
I nodded. “I owe her a much better gift after abandoning her these last few months—not that it’s all about the costs. It’s the thought, too. But, it should at least be nice enough not to turn her finger green.”
He raised a brow at me, held up a similar ruby ring, and gave sly grin. “So, if my heart was in the right place, you wouldn’t want a ring nicer than this from me?”
My eyes widened at the sudden turn of conversation, and I lost the power of speech. Whoa, Jackson talking about giving me any type of ring was enough to make me faint on the spot.
Luckily, the cashier engaged herself at the right time and piped up, “Oh no, buddy! I don’t care if you look like someone famous or not, you still better get that lady a real nice diamond if you plan to propose. Don’t let a girl lie to you; they all want a big sparkler on that finger. Just put that cheap thing down!”
Her outburst made us chuckle as he dropped the ring, and we turned toward the exit to find a boutique store down the strip. There were dozens on end to choose from, so I was sure I’d find something great for Ash. He stopped at the door and held up a finger. “I forgot to pay for the hat!” He pointed to the ridiculous-but-still-somehow-sexy hat on his head and ran back in while I waited on the street.
We hit four more stores and collected gifts for Ashley, Carl, Grandma, and Charlie and then sat on the beach to watch the sunset.
I sat in his lap, more content than I’d ever been in my life, while he nuzzled into my neck. “I really do want to, you know?” he whispered in my ear, as if we had been in the middle of a conversation.
“Want to what?”
“Give you a ring one day. Make you mine forever.”
My heart raced and my stomach fluttered instantly. I turned to look into the depths of his eyes and saw more emotion than I’d ever seen on someone’s face. Love, trust, anxiety, fear, desire.
I put a hand on each side of his face and swallowed hard. “I already am yours forever. Just try to get rid of me.” Then, I kissed him with enough passion to match his own.
Chapter 44
Show day finally arrived, and the concert would start at 8:00 p.m. at the House of Blues. It was an intimate venue, with tables and chairs instead of auditorium seating. We arrived at three o’clock for the set up and sound check. Jackson met with all of the local crew and management. We ate dinner in the backstage lounge
with the band, while Jack signed autographs for the staff. I planned to watch from backstage, but the bar staff insisted I sit at a prime table with a few of their friends who had tickets, so I could have a view from the front of the room.
I opened my mouth to decline, but Jackson interjected, “Great idea, especially since there isn’t anyone left for you to hang with backstage.”
I shrugged. “Sure, that sounds fun, as long as the others don’t mind me crashing.”
Turned out our table was front and center, closest to the stage, and I felt awkward at first. Not that I minded seeing my boyfriend up close and personal during a show, I just felt guilty to take up such a good seat. Those feelings vanished quickly as the girls around me were welcoming and gushed about how they’d read rumors about our love story and how happy they were for us. After a round of beers, we were like old friends, and once the familiar music started, I was lost in the performance.
Jackson would play two hours, and he chose several songs for the first hour and then started taking requests. I was thrilled that “Dance Like No One’s Watching” was the first one requested, and everybody got out of their seats and did the line dance. The girls at my table dragged me out of my chair, and I couldn’t help beaming as I danced with them. An awful lot of people figured out who I was, as evidenced by the pointing and camera flashes sent my way.
Jackson sealed the deal when the song ended and he pointed to me, saying, “I’d like to thank my beautiful and talented girlfriend, Lexie Travis, for choreographing that dance. Y’all watch the ACM’s because that song is up for best video.”
I knew my face turned crimson and I was glad for the next request, “Cryin,’” to start. It occurred to me that we had a soundtrack to our love story. All these songs had a meaning for us, or came out of a conversation or experience we had along the way. How many people could say that?
Jackson winked at me from the stage, as if he was reading my thoughts, and I gave him a shy smile back as he began the next request, “This Love.” As the night continued, I found myself disheartened that the show was ending. An amazing tour, our time alone on the bus in our own world—it was all coming to a halt. Though I tried to brush the negativity away, my chest still felt heavy. Jackson stared at me again, concern in his eyes at the obvious disappointment on my face. I willed myself to smile and wave at him, to ease his mind that I was okay. And I was. It would just take adjusting back to a new schedule once we were home.
He cleared his throat on cue and spoke in that smooth voice into the mic. “We’ve come to the last song of the night, y’all.” A chorus of protest and calls for encores filled the air. “I know, it went by fast, and you’ve been an amazing crowd here in Myrtle Beach.” Cheers and applause sounded in return.
“I do have a surprise for this last song, so you’ll be the first to hear my newest work. I usually save the second-to-last song of the evening as a shout out to Lexie, but tonight I want to end the show with her song. These songs have changed over time; they’ve been my way of trying to win her friendship, sending her messages, apologizing, letting her go, trying to win her back, telling her how much I love her, you name it. Songs can tell a story, and we have one hell of a story.”
Now the crowd was ooh-ing and ahh-ing, and girls were giggling with anticipation. My lips parted open, shock replacing all of my former thoughts as I realized the band had been working on something for this show, not the album.
He locked eyes with mine again. “So, if you don’t mind, I want to tell you about our journey a little bit, and I want to send another message to my girl. Here is my newest song, it’s called ‘Groupie.’”
My eyebrows rose impossibly higher. What kind of song was this going to be?
Lee counted them in and hit the drums with a bang to start a deep ballad beat, and Jackson sat on a stool, strumming the guitar softly.
I didn’t know what love was, I didn’t have a clue. Laying in the hospital bed, she came in dressed in blue. I knew then things were different, they’d never be the same. Not after I knew her, and she called out my full name.
She didn’t even like me, didn’t care for me at all. But one look at this beauty, and I had to take the fall. Found a way to keep her near, then we had time to face our fears.
I opened up and showed her other sides I’d tried to hide away. She let me into her past, and I knew together we would be okay.
Yeah, I knew then, I wanted to her to be my groupie, baby, be my only one.
Didn’t need those others, just her by my side and I’d be done.
Let me show you how I feel, please don’t go and run. Be my groupie, baby, be my only one.
My mouth was still open, and I had to focus to make myself close it and tune into his words, as I felt pulled into an out-of-body experience. He was pouring his heart out, telling our story. How had he known so soon that I was the one? I had hated the term “groupie” for so long now, but here he was turning it into a positive thing as he realized he needed only me.
Across the country we started on our way, getting to know each other better every day. She didn’t know her beauty, didn’t know her strength, but found it along the way.
She taught me that I could be more, that I could live with passion and fire. She showed me the meaning of true friendship and true desire.
I tried to boost her up, to help her see her talent and how much she had to give. Together we broke down walls and learned how to really live.
Yeah, I knew that I wanted her to be my groupie, baby, be my only one.
Didn’t need those others, just her by my side and I’d be done.
Let me show you how I feel, please don’t go and run. Be my groupie, baby, be my only one.
I drank in every word, zoned in only on his mouth as it spoke each word to me, not caring about anyone else in the room. For once, not the least bit embarrassed at our public emotions. I heard a sniffle next to me that made me look around and realize some of the girls at the table were weeping. My eyes welled, and I had to physically cover my heart with my hands, as I felt it may swell out of my chest as I turned my full attention back to Jackson.
We had serious ups and downs along the way, we had so much to learn. True love was in question—was it real and could it be earned?
We danced, we kissed, we fought, we wrote letters along the ride. Lots of bets with high stakes gave us the perfect way to disguise.
The best times were shared, but the worst times came, too. Things that make you think “how could I ever live without you?”
It’s been said there’s one that, despite their flaws, you can’t live without … your true soul mate that builds you up and sets you free beyond a doubt.
Well, I found mine and I have come to this conclusion:
I want to be your groupie, baby, be your only one.
You don’t need any others, just me by your side and we’ll be done.
Let me show you how I feel, our life will be so much fun.
Let me be your groupie baby, be your only one.
Tears spilled over my lids without control now, and I chewed on the inside of my cheek. I knew I had never, and would never, be loved like this by anyone else in the world. I had my soul mate and he had me.
Jackson paused to speak quietly into the mic while the music softly played on behind him. “I’m going to sing this last verse and get a little more serious on y’all. It’s kind of a big deal.” His voice cracked with emotion and made my stomach quiver.
Instinctively, I reached a hand out toward him. Little did I notice that Theo was already moving toward me at the edge of the stage, and he grabbed my extended hand and hauled me up onto the stage in one big motion. I landed on wobbly feet and stood immobilized until Theo nudged me over toward Jack’s stool where a spotlight illuminated us on a darkened stage. I relaxed when I saw the sweet smile on his face, and I stood in front of him as if we were the only two in the room. He set his guitar aside and held the mic.
I want to be your groupie baby, be your only
one, make all your dreams come true under the sun.
Want to love you unconditionally, want to love you strong … want to love you always, love you so right, it’s wrong.
I want to be your groupie baby, for the rest of your life. I want to be your husband, want you to be my wife …
I’d been swaying to the music and briefly closed my eyes as the words washed over me. They snapped open immediately as I heard the last line, and I realized he’d slid off the stool and was kneeling in front of me with a small, black, velvet box in his hand. Tears had filled in his eyes, and he tried to blink them away as two slid down each cheek. He swallowed hard, hand shaking.
I blinked rapidly as it sunk in and literally pinched my own hand to see if I was dreaming. It hurt. I gazed directly into his familiar, beautiful blue eyes and saw the amazing heart and soul inside of him. A grin broke out on my face just as the crowd, holding their breath, began to murmur. I let out the air trapped in my lungs and sunk to my knees in front of him so I could gaze straight at him with my delirious smile and I yelled, “Yes!”
He threw his head back in relief, his face flooded with a priceless smile as two more tears fell from his eyes, and they began to pour from mine. The man of my dreams just asked me to spend the rest of my life with him. I didn’t think twice about nine-to-five jobs, or awards shows, or the omnipresent media. It would all work out, because the most important thing was that I’d have my very own groupie to lean on.
The crowd went wild, cheering and applauding, standing on chairs and tables to get a better view and taking photos and videos. It would inevitably be all over the internet tomorrow and the magazines next week, but I no longer cared. Jackson grabbed me into a fierce hug, pulling me so tight against him that I could barely breathe. I didn’t mind, because he smelled so good, and I wanted to remember this moment forever. Finally, he released me slightly and kissed me tenderly on the lips while the crowd and the band hooted and hollered.
Muse: ( Groupie Volume 2 of 2) Page 27