“None of that was mentioned when I read about it online!”
Everyone is laughing at this shared memory. I make eye contact with Karen across the table and she shrugs—apparently, she hadn’t been present for the great food-poisoning debacle, either.
“Paige has found us some pretty excellent restaurants,” Daisy says. “St. Louis not withstanding.”
“Thank you!” Paige says. “Remember the fried chicken?”
“The fried chicken was pretty amazing,” Daltrey agrees. “Even though it did require me to go traipsing around in Christmas village.”
“We are totally doing that again when we get to Detroit,” Paige says happily, and Reed and Daltrey shoot each other terrified looks.
Across the table, Karen crosses her eyes at me. I half choke on the bite of food in my mouth and have to take a long sip of Coke to keep from coughing.
“God, I could go for some fried chicken right now,” Daisy moans, rubbing her belly. “That sounds amazing.”
“You’re in the middle of eating,” Daltrey laughs, tugging on one of her curls in a way that shoots a sharp needle of jealousy into my veins.
Daisy laughs. “It’s not my fault I’m obsessing about food. What do you expect in my condition?”
Her words don’t really register for a moment. But then her mouth drops into a little o, and her eyes come up to meet mine. Guilty eyes. Her hand pauses on her stomach.
Oh my God.
Everyone at the table goes very quiet. Out the corner of my eye, I can feel Lennon’s and Cash’s eyes on me. My suspicion grows, my stomach dropping.
Of course, it’s Paige who breaks the silence. “Why are you obsessing about food?” she asks, completely innocent. Karen winces next to her.
“Shit,” Daisy mutters. “I didn’t mean to tell you like—” She looks up at Daltrey and lets out a little half-hysterical laugh. “I can’t even think of an excuse.”
He smiles down at her, tugging on that same curl again, and my stomach drops even further.
Finally, Daisy looks back to Paige. There are tears in her eyes. “I’m, uh, eating for two these days. That’s why I’m obsessing about food.”
There’s a split second of silence before Paige is screaming. “Are you kidding me? Oh my God!” The rest of her exclamations are buried in a high-pitched shriek as she hugs Daisy, who seems to be half-laughing, half-crying.
“Thank God I don’t have to keep that secret anymore,” Cash says. “I’ve nearly said something about ten times.”
“It’s hard to live on a bus with morning sickness and not give it away,” Daisy laughs.
“You knew?” Paige asks Cash before turning to Reed. “And you didn’t tell me?”
He shrugs. “I knew Daisy would want to tell you herself.”
Paige grabs Daisy in another hug. “I can’t believe this. I’m so excited for you.”
Throughout this entire exchange, I’m acutely aware of two sets of eyes on me. Lennon and Karen. I know I need to say something, to congratulate her, to not make this about me. I stare down at the table, trying to get my face into something that doesn’t look steamrolled, while Karen hugs her friend.
I look up, smile plastered on my face, to see Karen releasing Daisy, her eyes back on me. I ignore her. “That’s fantastic,” I say, knowing my voice sounds a little too bright. “Wow, a baby. Congratulations!”
Daisy beams at me, and I say a silent prayer of thanks that she, at least, is buying my happy expression. “Thank you, Levi.”
Daltrey ignores me entirely, sitting back in his chair, an arm draped loosely over her shoulder, smiling around at his brothers and the girls. He looks about as happy as I’ve ever seen him, completely thrilled with the idea of being a father.
The urge to punch him overtakes me in a rush. I have to shove my hands under my knees to keep them still. Next to me, Lennon briefly clasps a hand on my shoulder, as if sensing my reaction.
I grab my sandwich, forcing myself to chew, to swallow, to take drinks of my Coke. And to smile, to nod my head, to laugh, while Daisy and Paige talk about due dates and ultrasounds and the fashion opportunities available in maternity clothes.
It’s all I can do to not throw up.
Mercifully, everyone finishes their lunch only minutes after me. I want nothing more than to get out of this restaurant, but the idea of going back to the venue, of sitting on the bus or in the dressing room, has me feeling like I might crawl out of my skin. I don’t think I can do it.
“Hey,” Lennon says to me, as everyone stands, Reed throwing several more twenties than necessary down on top of the table. “I think there’s a bookstore on this block. I wouldn’t mind checking it out. Come with?”
I could hug him right there, I really could. “Yeah,” I tell him, unable to keep the relief out of my voice. “Sounds good.”
“Can I come too?” Karen asks. “I’ve been looking for a copy of…Wuthering Heights.”
I raise my eyebrows at her and mouth, “Wuthering Heights?”
She shrugs and I smile in spite of the churning in my stomach. After convincing the security guards that he isn’t likely to be noticed without the rest of the band, Lennon, Karen, and I head off in the opposite direction of his brothers.
“Where’s this bookstore?” Karen asks, peering down the block.
“There is no bookstore,” Lennon says. “But there is a bar right over there.”
Karen gives him a respectful glance. “Good call.”
The three of us find a table in the back and order a round of Guinness. I could go for something stronger, but I figure two o’clock is too early to break out the shot glasses.
“So,” Karen says. “Wasn’t expecting that.”
I can’t help but glance over at Lennon, who is watching me, his face apologetic. “I’m sorry, man. I couldn’t decide if I should tell you, or—”
I wave his apology away. He’s not the one I’m pissed at. “It’s fine.” I take a long gulp of beer. “When did you find out?”
“Few months ago. When we were finishing the album in Seattle.”
A few months ago. Shit. I had tuned out most of the discussion about due dates while trying to keep my head from exploding. “So she’s…pretty far along?”
“Four months,” Karen says. “Baby’s due this winter.”
I nod, my eyes on my beer. “So I guess that break between the Euro tour and Asia makes sense now.”
“You okay, man?” Lennon asks.
“Sure.” I take another long gulp. “It’s got nothing to do with me.”
“You don’t have to put on a face for us,” Karen says.
“I’m not… It’s fine, really.” Of course it’s not. I just don’t know how to explain to them the hot swell of anger and jealousy that’s bubbling up in my gut.
“I think I would be pretty upset,” Lennon says in that calm, soft way of his. “If a girl I loved was having a baby with another guy.”
“I don’t love her,” I mutter. When no one answers, I look up at them. Their skepticism couldn’t be more clear. “I don’t. Not anymore. It’s not about that.”
“Then what’s it about?” Lennon asks. “’Cause there was definitely a moment back there when I thought you might turn the table over.”
I shake my head. “It’s…it’s just…”
“It’s just Daisy,” Karen offers.
“No. It isn’t about her.” I’m starting to feel agitated all over again, that same rush of rage passing over me. “It’s him. It’s fucking Daltrey.”
Lennon doesn’t say anything about my choice of adjective in referring to his brother. He just watches me, expressionless, waiting for me to go on.
I blow out a shuddering breath. “He has everything. Everything. Daisy loves him. She always loved him. I knew it even when I was telling her how I felt. I never had a shot.”
“Levi—”
I talk right over Karen, not in the mood for her platitudes. “He has this awesome job. Everyone in the fucking
world is in love with him. His face is on billboards, for Christ’s sake.” I grab my glass to keep my hands from shaking. “He’s not the one that had to go away and live in the middle of nowhere. He got to stay right here in his happy little bubble, being on tour, having fun, hanging out with his brothers.” My eyes find Lennon’s face and I grimace. “He has brothers. A dad who cares about him. An amazing career. And he has Daisy. He’s going to have a family with her.” I close my eyes, my heart hammering in my chest. Neither of them says a word. I know I sound like a jealous prick, and I know I’m not explaining this right at all.
My eyes snap open and I glare at Lennon, as if expecting him to have the answers. “So where in the hell does he get off being pissed at me? He has everything. He hasn’t lost a single thing. And I’ve lost…” I swallow, a lump coming to my throat. “But he’s the one that gets to be mad at me.” I slam a hand against the table, swearing, and ignore the way that Karen jumps. “He’s never going to forgive me. How in the hell does that make any sense?”
Lennon’s face never changes. He just keeps looking at me, calm and understanding. “It doesn’t make sense,” he says. “It’s bullshit and it’s not fair.”
I don’t know what I was expecting—maybe him to defend his brother. But his answer has the effect of taking the wind out of my sails. I slump into the table, shoulders hunched, feeling exhausted suddenly.
“I’m sorry,” Karen says, reaching over to rub my forearm lightly. “I’m really sorry you feel like you had to give up so much.”
I meet her eyes, thinking about the lodge, about her reaction to seeing me there, the pity in her eyes. And something more—something like disappointment that I would end up there. I gently brush her hand off my arm, feeling sick, and down the rest of my beer.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say, voice flat. “It’s over. Let him be pissed all he wants. It’s only for a few more weeks.”
“Don’t say that,” Lennon says, his voice a lot less emotionless now. “You’re back where you’re supposed to be now, Levi. This isn’t temporary.”
I snort. “Yeah, I’m sure I’m up for Ransom employee of the year.”
“I mean it.” Lennon doesn’t raise his voice very often, so when it happens, you pay attention. “Daltrey doesn’t get to dictate what you do with your life.”
I nod, but I know it’s bullshit. Another rush of anger passes through me like a red-tinged wave. I’ve had to fit my life around what Daltrey Ransome wanted for years now. I don’t think that is going to change any time soon.
And I’m fucking sick of it.
Chapter Eleven
Karen
We’re mostly silent as we make our way back to the venue. I can feel the anger radiating off of Levi, the frustration and the bitterness. It makes me feel on edge, nervous for him. Like he might break in half at any minute.
The second Daisy mentioned being obsessed with food, I knew what was going to come out of her mouth next. There was just something in her eyes when she looked up at Daltrey, a lovingness in the way she rubbed her stomach. And then I realized that her stomach was rounded—a definite departure from her normal thin frame. I wondered how I hadn’t noticed it before.
And then I wondered what in the hell Levi was going to say.
I watched him across the table as he stared down at his food. Even without seeing his expression, I felt like I could read the tumult on his downturned face, sense his struggle in the set of his shoulder. When he looked up, grinning, and congratulated her, I felt a wave of sadness for him. Levi is a good guy. A damned good guy. No matter what he was feeling, he wasn’t going to let Daisy see it.
When he exploded in the bar, I didn’t know how to comfort him. I wasn’t sure if I bought his assertion that he didn’t love her anymore, but his explanation of his feelings toward Daltrey was painfully obvious.
Lost in my thoughts about his emotional state, I don’t notice when he stops in the parking lot of the venue for several seconds. Lennon looks behind us first. “Levi?”
I look back and the expression on his face scares me—he looks like he’s about to deliver terrible news. “Karen,” he says quickly, reaching out a hand toward me. “I think I forgot…my phone. Let’s run back to the bar.”
“What?” I glance down at his other hand, clearly holding his phone. “You have it.”
“Shit,” he mutters, then his eyes widen at something behind my back.
I turn, wondering what in the hell is going on. And then I see what has him so agitated. To my surprise, it’s nothing to do with Daisy at all. And everything to do with me.
Dan is standing near the bus with Reed and Will. There’s an unfamiliar woman at his side. She’s shorter than I am, with curly red hair piled on top of her head. Dan’s hand is around her waist, and she’s looking up at him like…
“Oh, Cheryl is here,” Lennon says, oblivious. “I should go say hi.”
The air around me seems to still and grow heavy. I’m acutely aware of the buzz of a mosquito to my right. I can’t rip my eyes away from the woman, who is now greeting Lennon like an old friend. As she reaches up to hug him, the sun glints off the diamond on her ring finger.
And then Levi is at my side, arm wrapping around me. “Come on,” he says, voice steady and clear. “Come on, Karen.”
I don’t really know how he manages to pull me out to the sidewalk in front of the venue. I feel like I’m moving through a dream—everything foggy and opaque around me. But then Levi is pulling me through the front door and into the lobby. He says something to a passing roadie before leading me through a door and down a long hallway. “It’s okay, Karen,” he says, his voice very close to my ear. “Almost there.”
Somehow, we’re in an empty office. He pushes me down into a chair, crouching in front of me. His face is worried, and his hands reach out to rub my bare arms. “Are you okay?”
“Cheryl,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “His wife?”
Levi nods, grimacing a little.
I swallow. “He…didn’t tell me she was coming.”
“Dan is a massive asshole,” Levi growls. “He should have told you.”
I feel a strangled laugh bubble up from my throat, the sound strange in my ears. “What difference would it have made?”
“You wouldn’t have been sucker punched by it.”
“I don’t think the other woman is afforded much concern in these kinds of situations.”
“You aren’t the other woman.”
“I’m the definition of the other woman.” The strange numbness is starting to wear off, my skin feeling heated and itchy as my agitation grows. “I slept with that woman’s husband. And she has no idea. Did you see how happy she looked?” I suddenly feel like I’m going to throw up. “Oh my God, I could have ruined her marriage.”
“That is not your fault. It’s his fault. He’s the one who’s married to her. He’s the one who cheated.” Levi’s face softens. “The one who treated you so shitty.”
“Then why do I still love him?” I cry, covering my face. The urge to throw up intensifies, and I think I might actually get sick. “Fuck.”
“You’re shaking,” Levi says, sounding angry. “Karen, it’s okay.”
“It’s not!” I definitely sound hysterical now, but I can’t seem to stop myself. There’s a well of panic opening up inside of me. “It’s not okay!”
“Karen. Look at me.” When I don’t respond, he gently removes my hands from over my eyes. His face is very close to mine, close enough to make out the individual lashes over his deep brown eyes. “Good,” Levi says, nodding. “Deep breaths. That’s good.”
I slowly feel myself calm, the panic edging away. So long as I can focus on the steadiness of Levi, it doesn’t feel so scary. “Thank you,” I finally murmur, my voice still cracking.
“Hey.” Levi’s face breaks into his familiar lopsided grin. “Simpatico, right? That’s what I’m here for.”
I release a huge breath, bringing my hands up to rub my bare arms,
suddenly cold. “Here,” Levi says, pulling a chair next to me from the other side of the desk. He wraps an arm around me, and I sink into his side eagerly. “Just keep taking deep breaths. You’re okay.”
We sit like that for a long time, Levi’s fingers drawing little patterns on my arm, his breathing deep and regular, rising and lowering my chin over his chest. He left the door open, but the hallway outside is empty. A light just past the door is flickering, and I watch the patterns of shadow on the door, trying to clear my mind.
I can’t believe his wife is here. I can’t believe after everything he’s said over the past months, about wanting me back, about wanting to explain things, that he would think it was a good idea to surprise me with her appearance. He never really wanted you back, I think to myself, angry. That was just you being stupid again, believing something that wasn’t there.
“Relax," Levi says, and I realize my shoulders have gone tense. “It’s okay.”
“I’m such an idiot,” I mutter against his shoulder. “This always happens to me.”
“What does?”
“I always let myself believe that guys want something more than to sleep with me.” I pull away a little, but he doesn’t move his arm from around my shoulder. “Even though I have a lifetime of experience with the fact that they never do.”
“I’m sure there are plenty of guys who want more than that.”
“Not with me,” I say, bitterness seeping through my words. “Never with me. I’m always the girl guys want to be with—but never the one they want to stay with.”
“Karen—”
“Don’t tell me it’s not true, Levi. You haven’t seen it. I’ve been dating since I was thirteen. All through high school and college. There’s never been a shortage of guys wanting to get in my bed. None of them stay. None of them.”
“Hey,” he says, pulling me closer. He reaches over with his free hand to gently press my head down onto his shoulder again. “I stayed, didn’t I?”
“You don’t count.”
He snorts. “Thanks.”
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