Trouble Brewing

by Selena Kitt

  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 wa
s 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 bureau, 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.

  First world problems, I thought with a laugh. Once I was clean, I couldn’t resist just standing in the middle of the shower over the drain, my hands against the wall, letting the heat of the water just soak me. It was like an all over water body massage.

  Steam rose all around me—I loved hot showers, the hotter and longer the better. Sometimes I’d come out of a shower feeling weak and a little dizzy, I liked them so hot. But this was like the king of all showers. If I had a shower like this, I’d never leave, I thought. And then it hit me—I did have a shower like this. Tyler had taken hundreds of showers in here. Standing right on this very spot.

  I smiled, lowering my head and letting my hair fall like a wet curtain around my face—it gave me a little pocket of air to breathe while the shower pounded me with its hot spray. The thought of Tyler made me feel warmer if that was even possible. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d stopped everything to fantasize about him, to remember his hands and mouth on me, but he felt so close now.

  We’d
been apart for months, and it felt like years. Now it was just a matter of hours—still too many hours, granted, but still, just hours—until we were together again. I’d imagined our reunion every night for months, had woken up thinking about him every morning, and I wanted it to be perfect. I wanted us to click, like two puzzle pieces, right back into place. I wanted us to be Tyler and Katie again, in an instant, like slipping into a second skin.

  But would we? Could we?

  That thought gnawed in the back of my mind, a little mouse nibbling around the edges, searching for a way out of its cage so it could run rampant through my brain. I didn’t want to let it loose. I wanted to at least pretend I believed that it was just that easy to slip back into what we had, while we were on tour together. I wanted to believe in that more than anything.

  With a sigh, I pushed my wet hair out of my face, my eyes squeezed shut against the spray as I groped for the nozzle to turn off the water. That’s when a giant whoosh of frigid air made me scream with both surprise and fear. I stumbled and probably would have fallen and knocked myself out cold on the tile floor if Tyler hadn’t caught me.

  Chapter Two

  “Jesus mother-fucking jumped up Christ in a sidecar, what the ever-loving hell are you doing here?” I gasped, clinging to Tyler for dear life.

  Not that I had to really worry. He had a firm grip on me, even though I was soaking wet and slippery as a fish.

  “Is that any way to welcome me home?” That smirk. One corner of his mouth lifted, and his hands moved down my back to grab my ass and pull me hard against his chest. He didn’t have a stitch of clothing on.

  “Tyler! What the fuck?” I wasn’t quite ready to let go of my shock, but I couldn’t help putting my arms around his neck and squirming in his arms to get a little closer. “You’re not supposed to be here!”

  “You want me to go?” He shrugged one shoulder, loosening his hold on me and turning toward the shower door. “I can go…”