“Oh, you did. I don’t think anyone else suspected a thing.”
“But you saw.” Of course she did. Karen had already proven herself to be pretty damn good at noticing me when no one else did.
“Shit,” she mutters. “What are we doing here?” I laugh at the incredulity in her tone. “Seriously, why did we ever agree to this?”
“Because we’re chumps who can’t say no.”
She tilts the bottle at me. “Damn right we are.”
We take turns passing the whiskey back and forth for several quiet moments. I’m starting to feel a nice buzz. The night is warm, the view is amazing, and sitting out here with Karen, it’s almost possible to ignore everything that’s happening inside the house.
“You know what I think?” I ask, passing her the bottle.
“Hmm?” The dreamy quality of her voice tells me that she’s feeling just as buzzed as I am.
“I think we need to be alleys.”
Karen has been leaning back on her elbows, looking up at the night sky, but she straightens at my suggestion. “Alleys?”
“Yeah. You know.”
“We should be alleys? Like, the little streets between buildings?”
“Shut up. I’m drunk. You know what I meant. Allies. Comrades. Team mates.” I gesture at the both of us with the bottle. “Simpatico.”
She giggles, and I grin to myself. To most people who know her, it would be a completely un-Karen-like sound, but I heard her giggle like that back in Colorado. She’s cute when she’s drunk.
“Simpatico is a funny word.”
“Well it means we’re the same. We should work together. Like, a pact.”
“A pact?”
“That we’ll help each other out. Keep each other sane. On the tour.”
She resumes her position. With her head tilted back like that, her hair is touching the bench. “That’s a good idea. Because I’m starting to think not sane is an option for me right now.”
“No. That’s why you need an ally. To keep that from happening.”
“Okay.” She grins up at me. Definitely drunk. “I like it. Allies.”
I hold out my hand to her. “We need to shake on it if we want it to be a real pact.”
“You sound like Paige. With your pacts and your rendezvous points and your plans to steal liquor.”
“Well, since Paige is your favorite person in the world, I will take that as a compliment.”
Her face softens. “It is.”
“So,” I wave my hand gently by her face. “Shake on it?”
“Deal.” She lifts her hand to shake mine, apparently forgetting that she’s resting on her elbows. She loses her balance, falling sideways toward the concrete bench. In spite of the lethargy in my limbs, I manage to catch her. Her bare arms feel warm under my hands. Immediately, I’m assaulted by a memory of seeing the rest of her bare, of the way her skin felt pressed against mine, of the way I clutched her arms, almost just like this.
Swallowing hard, I help her get upright on the bench before releasing her.
“Thank you.” If Karen felt anything in my touch, I can’t read it on her face. She’s merely smiling that same lazy smile at me.
“That’s what allies are for.”
Her grin widens. “Well you make a good ally.”
And a good ally definitely doesn’t picture his pact-mate naked, I remind myself. I’m starting to learn that Karen has plenty of experience being objectified—I don’t want to be someone who does that to her.
I have a feeling before the tour is finished, I’m going to need her friendship way too much to risk messing it up by pointless reminiscing about our night together.
Even if she does look freaking gorgeous in the moonlight.
Chapter Nine
Karen
“You’re having fun, aren’t you?” Paige asks me for approximately the millionth time since the tour started a week ago.
“Right this second?” I ask. I hold the box in my arms up a few more inches, in spite of its weight. “No, Paige. At this exact moment, my arms hurt like hell, and I’m sweating like a pig. And you keep bugging me with the same question. So no. I’m not having fun right now.”
She drops her own box onto the merchandise table. “But in general?” she asks, ignoring the part of my speech about asking the same question over and over. “In general, are you having fun?”
“Paige,” I groan, managing to heave my box onto the table next to hers.
“I promised you a good time,” she persists. “I just want to make sure I’m living up to that.”
I cross my arms and glare at her. “We’ve been on tour for a week, Paige, and already, you’ve managed to throw three parties, organize a pool volleyball tournament at the hotel, and convince all the members of the band to participate in a pancake-making taste test. I think maybe you should cool it a little on the enforced fun.”
Her face falls. “So you’re having a bad time?”
I laugh in spite of myself, throwing an arm around her shoulder. “I’m having a great time. I promise. You were totally right about it being as fun as I remembered. Which is what I’ve told you every time you ask that question, right?”
“I guess so.”
“And would you also agree that you have asked that question an excessive number of times.”
“Yeah,” she mutters, and I laugh.
“You can drop it now, okay? And you don’t have to try so hard. I’m having fun.”
To my great surprise and shock, it isn’t even a lie. I have been having fun since the tour started last week. A lot of that has to do with Paige, who could probably make a work camp in Siberia fun if she tried hard enough. It also helps that Ransom is my favorite band, and hearing them play live every night never gets old. Hanging out with them is pretty great, even if I do still get a sick swoop of embarrassment in my stomach when I get too close to Cash or Sam.
But even more than Paige or the shows or the band, I’m finding that it’s Levi who’s contributing the most to my good mood. I had been dreading feeling like a third wheel, feeling like an outsider. When he suggested back on Reed’s patio that the two of us should be allies on the road, I had no idea how helpful that really would be.
“Hey there, ladies.”
I look up and grin. Speak of the devil. “What’s up, Levi?” Paige asks, pausing in the act of rummaging through the merch box in front of her.
“Oh, you know. Usual glitz and glamour. I just spent twenty minutes helping Cash figure out the best placement of his mic stand to keep from blocking the best angle of his chest.”
I snort. I had thought that maybe the addition of Sam on this tour would have helped to chill his ego a little bit, but that had clearly been wishful thinking. Girlfriend or not, there appeared to be nothing that boy enjoyed more than having a room full of female fans screaming his name.
“It’s nice to know some things never change,” I mutter, and Levi winks at me.
“So, whatcha guys working on?”
“Paige is helping me go through some stock. New merch order just got here,” I explain, pulling the latest T-shirt design out of the box to show him. Reed’s face stares moodily out at me. “When did they all start getting their own face shirt?” Most of the T-shirts that I had sold in the past featured the entire band, with the exception of a few that had a solo profile of Daltrey.
Levi shrugs. “Your guess is as good as mine.” He points at his own chest. “Prodigal bastard, remember?”
“Hush.” Paige frowns at him across the table. “No one thinks you’re a bastard.”
“The innocent thing is pretty adorable, Paige.” He turns to me. “Need another hand?”
I raise an eyebrow. “I thought it was almost time for sound check.”
His eyes are almost pleading. “Yeah, but if you guys need help, I’m sure the other roadies can handle it. Getting the merch out is pretty important…” His voice trails off as I cross my arms over my chest.
“Levi. At some
point you’re going to have to learn to play nice with Daltrey. And that includes working sound check like the head roadie you are.”
He responds by sticking out his tongue.
“Classy.”
“You’re no fun, Karen. I should have just asked Paige if she needed any help planning a three-legged race or something.”
“Hey!” Paige cries, mimicking my crossed-arm pose. “I’ll have you know we did do that on the last tour, and everyone had a lot of fun.”
Levi snorts but ceases his laughter when Paige continues to glare at him. From inside the theater, I hear a sudden patter of drums. “Look’s like they’re starting.” I say. “Better get in there.”
Levi gives me his best pouty face. “Do I have to?”
“If you’re a very good boy and go do your work, I’ll buy you an ice-cream cone later.”
“Fine,” he mutters, turning toward the venue doors. He drags his feet every step of the way, punctuating the walk with several loud sighs, making me laugh.
“Okay,” Paige says the moment the theater doors close behind him. “What was that?”
I stare at her over the boxes in front of me. “What was what?”
“That.” She points at the space Levi just vacated. “Since when do you flirt with Levi?”
“I was not flirting!” Do not blush, I tell myself. Don’t you do it. “We’re friends, Paige. That’s how we always talk.”
Her eyes narrow as she searches my face. I don’t like that expression one bit. “That was not just friends. Something is going on.”
“Nothing is going on.” I busy myself with the shirts in front of me, hoping she’ll drop it. Fat chance.
“Karen, do you actually think you can fool me? Me? I have seen you interact with a thousand guys you’re crushing on—”
“Hey! I have not had thousands of crushes.”
“Okay, okay. Maybe that was an exaggeration. But I have seen you crush on plenty of guys. And that—” She points at the door through which Levi disappeared. “That was not just friends.”
I sigh, knowing there’s no way on earth she’s going to drop this unless I tell her something. “Fine. We spent a lot of time talking at Reed’s party—”
She claps her hands, entire face lit up. “Oh my God! You and Levi! This is—”
“Paige,” I bark. “Will you let me finish?”
“Oh. Right. Sorry.”
“Anyhow, we talked a lot that night, and we realized that we both had similar apprehensions about coming on tour. Neither one of us was too excited about feeling like we’re the third wheel—”
“How many times do I have to tell you that you’re not the third wheel?”
I put my hands on my hips. “You know, I could just get back to work if you’re not interested in hearing what I have to say.”
Paige slaps a hand over her mouth, nodding for me to continue.
“We decided that since we were both worrying about the same things, we might as well keep each other company on the tour. That way neither one of us would feel like a third wheel. And that’s it. Whole story.”
She removes her hand from her mouth, looking worried. “Do you think it’s helping?”
I nod, pulling some more shirts from the box to fold, then putting them in a neat pile. “It is. Every time you and Reed run off to do something gross and smoochy, Levi and I chill out.” I grin at her. “I’m getting really good at Poker. I bet I’ll be able to beat you pretty soon.”
“Fat chance.” She’s still watching me way more closely than I would like. “Are you sure it’s just friendship, though? Because I think the two of you would be—”
“Paige, please don’t do this. Levi has enough to worry about concerning his love life without you trying to push him into something. Okay?”
Paige frowns. “I keep forgetting about the whole Daisy thing. He seems like he’s so over it.”
You just can’t read his face, I think.
We’re saved from more discussion on the topic by the arrival of Mr. Ransome at the doors to the lobby. I tense immediately when Dan appears behind him, my eyes going straight to the shirts in front of me. Please just go into the theater for sound check, I silently beg. Please don’t come over here.
“Sounds like they started already,” I hear Mr. Ransome say from across the room. “I better get in there.”
“I’ll be right behind you,” Dan says, and I curse under my breath, eyes still glued to the shirts I’m folding. But no amount of concentration can keep me from seeing the blue Converse that appear in front of my table.
“Hey, Paige. Karen.”
“Hi, Dan,” Paige says in her trademark bright voice. I wonder what she would have to say to him if she knew what happened. The thought almost makes me want to tell her—but then I remember what she’d have to say to me, and I bite my tongue.
“Paige, were you able to finish that street team mock up?”
“Almost,” she says. “I’m really liking how it’s turning out.”
“Do you think you could finish it up before the show starts? New York is asking to approve.”
“Sure. Let me grab my laptop, it’s out on the bus.”
I’m pissed off enough to finally look up at him. There’s no way he didn’t send her out of here on purpose to get me alone. His eyes are on me, a little smirk on his face. I used to like that smirk, used to think it was charming and boyish. Now it makes me want to punch him. “Dan, Paige is helping me get set up for the show at the moment,” I snap, seeing her shocked expression out of the corner of my eye. Technically, Dan is both of our boss. “I don’t exactly have a ton of time before doors open.”
“I’ll help you,” he says smoothly. “Will can handle sound check.”
Paige’s eyes are darting between me and her boss, unsure of what to do. “It’s fine,” he assures her. “I won’t let Karen overwork herself.”
“Okay,” she says, still sounding unsure. I don’t meet her eyes, knowing she’ll be able to read how upset I am. “See you later, then.”
Once she’s gone, I abandon the shirt I’m working on and take a step back from the table to glare at Dan. “What the hell was that?”
“I just want to talk to you.” The smirk is gone, his face now serious. “We haven’t really talked in months.”
“And there’s a very good reason for that.”
“Karen.” He sighs, running a hand though the dark curls that I once loved. Still love, a little voice in my head whispers sadly. “I know that I hurt you.”
“I’m fine,” I snap. There’s no way I’m going to let him think he has any kind of power over me. Even though every time he’s in my general vicinity, my heart starts pounding, my chest aching, my brain wondering what if, what if…
“Of course you’re fine.” He smiles at me fondly, and my traitor stomach swoops. “You’re Karen. The strongest girl I know.”
Not so strong, I think, feeling sick now.
When I don’t answer, he comes around to my side of the table, grabs a pile of shirts from the box, and starts to fold. “I would give anything to go back and change what I did,” he says, his voice very quiet. There’s something in his tone, an intensity, that’s familiar to me. I heard that same tone countless times when he was whispering in my ear. And as stupid as I’ve felt ever since for believing it, there’s a part of me that wants to believe him still, even now.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “None of it matters now. We had an affair. We both regret it. It never would have happened had I…” I swallow. “Had I known. But now it’s over, and I just want to forget about it. We both have a job to do.”
He stops folding and turns to me, reaching a hand out to brush fingertips against my bare forearm. “You’re wrong.”
“Excuse me?”
“What you said just now—that we both regret it. You’re wrong.”
There was always a spark between us—a literal spark that would flash across my skin whenever he to
uched me. I curse myself for feeling it now, for the way my eyes move up to his as if of their own volition. And I curse myself for the way my heart seems to constrict under his gaze, like a spell has been cast over the two of us, making the rest of the room fade into nothingness.
It had always been this way. And apparently, nothing that has happened since, the humiliation and the pain and the guilt, none of it was enough to change the way it feels when he touches me. When he looks at me.
“Dan…”
“Things were so complicated with her,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “I had been in so much pain for so long, Karen. You have no idea what it was like, stuck in that relationship where we could barely stand to look at each other. To be starved of any kind of affection for so long. I felt terrible about myself, every single day. Ashamed that I couldn’t change it. Ashamed that she couldn’t love me.” Suddenly he smiles, his entire face lighting up. “And then I met you. And all of that faded away. None of it mattered. For the first time in years, I felt free.”
There are plenty of things I’ve done in my life that I’m ashamed of. Mistakes I’ve made. Ways I’ve hurt people. Ways I’ve hurt myself. But I think I’ll always be proud that in that moment, when my will was so close to breaking, when my entire heart and body were screaming out for me to step closer, to touch him, that I, instead, took a step back. Away from his touch. Away from the magnetic intensity in his eyes. I take a step back, shake my head to clear it, and avert my eyes to break the spell.
“It doesn’t change anything,” I whisper, my voice sounding ragged in my own ears. My heart is pounding, my skin hot. I take another step away, putting more space between me and the man who so clearly still has a hold on me. “I have work to do. Please leave.”
“You need help,” he says, gesturing at the boxes. “I made Paige leave. At least let me—”
I take another step away, and now I’m at the table’s edge. “Then you do it,” I say, my voice starting to sound more normal now. I take a deep breath, trying to calm the beating of my heart. “You do it or find someone else.”
Then I turn and run for the back hallway, ignoring his cries of my name.
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