by Kay Harris
Chelsea laughed. “Your genes?”
“Yeah. They want to be in my presence because in their minds I am the progeny of a rock god.”
“Your dad is a rock god,” she pointed out, her lip curled up at one end.
I leaned closer to her. “Yeah. But he’s just my dad.”
She smiled at me, and I was completely mesmerized by it. So I leaned down and kissed her. But she pulled away quickly and stuck her finger over my lips. “You’re breaking the rules, Henry,” she said, tutting at me.
I let out a deep sigh and turned my gaze to the stage just as Ten Frozen Toes appeared beneath the spotlight.
****
Three days ago—San Francisco, California
It had been a full week since Chelsea had told me she had a thing for someone else, and I still didn’t know who it was. It had been seven long nights since I’d last had Chelsea warm and soft beneath me in bed, and I still didn’t understand why.
I’d tried to be patient. I didn’t want to harm our friendship. So I hadn’t pushed the issue. But in truth, we weren’t the same anyway. The friendship we so desperately tried to keep intact was just a shell of what it had once been. And I wanted to know why.
So the night before we were supposed to leave for LA, I confronted her, demanding answers. We only had a handful of days left to shoot the show. It would all be over after we shot the final scenes at my dad’s concert. Then, Chelsea and I would both come back to San Francisco. I’d move out of my uncle’s place and get an apartment with the money from the show. I’d bury myself in there trying to write some articles or stories I could sell. And Chelsea would go back to her life and her career.
And I hoped we would see each other. I hoped we would hang out, and talk, and yeah, maybe even have sex occasionally. I hoped things would be how they’d been for the last several months.
But if that was going to happen, I needed to fix this. And I couldn’t fix it if I didn’t know what was wrong.
“We have to talk,” I said, shutting the door of my room behind me.
We’d been out in the living room watching a baseball game with my uncle just before I’d pulled her in here. The game wrapped up, and she was getting ready to go home. Tomorrow, we’d be on a plane to LA, and we wouldn’t have a chance to talk, maybe not again until after we came back to San Francisco. I couldn’t wait that long.
“Okay.” She sat down on the edge of the bed and stared down at her hands in her lap, looking very much like she was about to be tortured.
I sat down next to her. “Things are weird between us, Chels. We need to fix it,” I told her, having already decided to be just completely straightforward.
She sighed. “How do you think we can fix it, Henry?” She still wasn’t looking at me, and there was something fatalistic in her voice.
“Well, for starters, I think you should tell me who you’ve got a thing for.” Silence—deep silence—greeted my suggestion. “Chels?”
Finally, she looked up at me. “Henry…I…there isn’t someone else.”
“You lied to me?” I couldn’t believe it.
“No.” She shook her head. “No. I didn’t lie.”
“You’re not making any sense. You said we had to cut things off between us because you were into someone,” I reminded her.
Suddenly, she grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me. “Why are you so damn stupid, Henry!”
“What the hell?”
“I have a thing for you, Henry! You! You dumbass!”
I sat there, staring at her. She let go of me and stood. I followed her with my eyes as she paced in front of me. “I don’t—what?” I asked, feeling utterly flummoxed.
“Ugh,” she said, throwing her hands in the air. She came to a stop in front me. “I have feelings for you, Henry. And I can’t do this ‘friends with benefits’ bullshit with you anymore. I want more. I want the whole thing, Henry. I want a relationship.” She stuck her hands on her hips. “There. I said it. Now what?”
I stared at her. I had absolutely no idea how to respond to this. So I said nothing.
“You don’t have anything to say?” she asked, clearly frustrated.
“Chels, I…I don’t know what to say.”
“Why don’t you tell me how you feel, Henry?”
“I…I liked things the way they were,” I told her honestly.
I could see immediately I’d made a mistake. Her lips pressed together, her eyes narrowed, and she leaned forward menacingly. “I just bet you did,” she said in a low voice. “You got what you wanted without any ‘complications.’ ”
“Um…yeah. I thought that’s what we both wanted,” I said defensively.
“Maybe once, but not anymore. I want more, Henry,” she said. “How could you not want that, too? After everything. After…” She straightened and ran her hand over her face. “I’m an idiot. Why would I ever think I could get to you?” she said, more to herself than to me. “Why would I ever—God, between my own building self-esteem and your mom…Jesus, I actually believed…”
She pivoted on her heel and headed for the door.
I stood. “Where are you going?”
She turned to look at me, one hand on the door handle. “Goodbye, Henry.”
And she walked out, just like that.
****
Present day—Los Angeles, California
“Honestly, Dad, I’m not sure what even went wrong.”
“I think it’s obvious, Buddy. She fell in love with you.”
I hang my head in my hands for a moment, letting that really sink in. I know he is right, maybe I’d even known it for a while. But over the last two days as I’d traveled through LA with Billy-the-replacement shooting the final scenes for the show, I’d chosen to ignore that and focus on my anger over what I’d lost.
Chelsea certainly made it clear she had feelings during our confrontation at my uncle’s house. And when she didn’t show up at the airport the next morning, I’d known she wasn’t going to be joining us in LA. She didn’t answer my texts. She didn’t answer anyone’s texts. She didn’t pick up her phone. Nothing.
I’d gone through the motions for the last two days. I’d also been avoiding my family. I’d stayed in a hotel and promised I’d visit once all the shooting was over. Then, on my way over to the concert to meet up with my dad, I’d had to face reality. I had asked myself what would make Chelsea disappear from her life like that? What would make her abandon her career, leave me high and dry, and hide out like a criminal?
She had fallen for me.
“The question is,” my dad says, recalling my attention. I pull my head out of my hands and look up at him. “How do you feel about her?”
“I want her.” The words tumble out of my mouth without thought.
“But what are you willing to give her?”
The question, asked in my father’s gentle baritone, sounds far more innocuous than it is. But I’ve known for a while now I would have to face it.
I stand. “I can give her what she wants.”
My father looks up at me, and unexpectedly, he looks skeptical. “Are you sure?”
“Of course, I’m sure, Dad. I’m going to San Francisco. I’m going to get her back.”
My dad stands up and puts his hand on my shoulder. “I’m not going to talk you out of it. But…”
“What?” I ask, feeling impatient with his sudden resistance to what I’m sure he had been trying to push me toward this whole time.
He hesitates, his eyebrows scrunched up. Then he pulls me into a hug. “Nothing, Buddy.” He pats my back and pulls back. “Travel safe.”
Chapter 17
Present day—Los Angeles, California
Chelsea
I am officially an idiot. This is the thought going through my head as I stand in front of the imposing security guard. His arms are folded over his chest, and he looks as though protecting the large metal door at his back is what he was born to do.
I’ve had plenty of time over the p
ast three hours to figure out how I would get past this particular roadblock. After Candace and Jack had convinced me I should go after Henry, I’d jumped right into the task.
Having realized I’d never actually given Henry the chance to absorb how I had changed the rules on him, I wanted to go back and alter the conversation. I wanted to give Henry a chance to answer my demands. I wanted to see if I could still have him.
After two days of utter misery, I’d gone to Jack and Candace looking for hope. And they’d given it to me. Jack had asked one question: Why had I assumed Henry’s hesitation to immediately declare everything should change between us meant he didn’t want me? I hadn’t been able to answer that question. And it had made me realize I hadn’t given him a chance.
It was Candace who suggested I go after Henry. After all, Jack had run from her once, and that’s what she’d done, she’d tracked him down. And, for her, it had all worked out. She got a husband, a dog, and as I’d learned today, she was going to have a kid in about seven months.
Candace was able to order the corporate jet without me having to call my dad and explain my situation. That was a nightmare I didn’t need. So I’d packed a small bag, boarded the plane, flown to LA, then taken a cab to the venue where Henry’s dad and uncle were playing a concert tonight.
And while I’d flown, I’d contemplated exactly what I was going to say to Henry when I saw him. What I didn’t do was figure out how to get into the stupid building.
I’d tried to call Tom from the cab, but he wasn’t answering his phone. And now that I’m standing outside the building, I know why. It’s louder than hell in there. The music, which I’m pretty sure is Hank Tolk and his band, is spilling out of the arena and into the night air.
My pass had undoubtedly been given to Billy, who Tom informed me yesterday had taken over my duties when I was a no show. So I have no way in.
“I’m Henry Rushton’s best friend,” I try.
The guard harrumphs at me.
“No seriously. I’ve been trying to call and text him.” I hold up my phone to show my unanswered texts. “But I’m thinking maybe he doesn’t get reception in there.”
The guard leans forward and looks at my screen. It’s warmer here than in San Francisco, and he’s wearing just a T-shirt that shows off his thick biceps. Add that to his scruffy face and deep voice, and I’m a little intimidated. Especially when he says, “How do I even know that’s his number? It just says Henry. That could be anyone. Or, hell, you could be a stalker.”
I scroll down on my phone to show him the dozen or so unanswered texts Henry sent me over the last two days. “No, see, these are from him. He wants to talk to me. He wants to see me.” The guard leans back and twists his mouth up in a grimace. I sigh. “So there’s no way in?”
He rolls his eyes. “Give me a minute. I’ll ask around,” he says. Then he holds one hand up to me. “But you stay right here.”
I nod, and he opens the large steel door. But as he disappears inside, the door doesn’t fully latch behind him. It only takes me a split second to make my decision. Then, I wrench the door open and bolt inside.
The guard is leaning on the doorjamb of a small room immediately inside, talking to another guard. I run past him and keep running, even as I hear shouting and the sounds of pursuit coming from behind me.
I am in a labyrinth of nondescript hallways, white-painted brick flying by me as I desperately search for something that will help—a sign, a person, anything. And then I hit it. Literally.
I run directly into the largest human being I’ve ever seen. My comparatively tiny body bounces off a massive chest. I would have fallen straight back onto the floor except for a pair of enormous hands reaching out and catching me, one grasping each shoulder.
I look up, way up, to see an older, larger version of Henry staring down at me. He smiles and says, “You must be Chelsea.”
The security guard rushes up to us then. “I’m sorry, Mr. Rush. She came out of—”
“Don’t worry about it, Charlie. This is Henry’s girlfriend. Didn’t she tell you?”
Poor Charlie is nearly as much at a loss as I am. Henry’s dad lets the guy off the hook. “I’m going to take Chelsea to my green room, Charlie. Thanks.” Then he wraps one arm around my shoulders and turns us both so we are walking the opposite direction down the hallway. “I was just going out to watch Hank’s set when I saw you. Good karma, huh?”
I nod. “Um, thank you, Mr…um.” I hesitate. Do I call him Mr. Rush, which is his stage name, or Mr. Rushton, which I know is his real name, because it demonstrates how close I am to his son?
Before I can figure it out, he helps me, again. “Call me Sean. I have to say, I am pleasantly surprised to see you here, Chelsea. Henry said you’d basically disappeared on him.” He stops in front of a brown door and opens it. He ushers me inside and closes the door behind him.
The music is further muted in here. There is a couch, a small table, and a vanity with a big mirror and a sink. But no Henry.
“Please, have a seat,” he says, extending his arm to the couch.
I sit down stiffly while Sean freaking Rush folds his massive frame into a tiny metal chair across from me.
“I don’t suppose I’m going to get you to talk to me, huh?” he says lightly.
“I’m sorry. I’m just a little…um…How did you know it was me?” I ask.
“My wife has about a dozen selfies of you and her getting plastered at the bar in Denver. She showed them to me.”
“Oh…um…that makes sense.”
He leans back in his chair and looks at me. He is big, handsome, and slightly terrifying. In person he’s larger, yes, but also somehow softer. I think that’s because he looks so much like Henry. And I love Henry. I imagine watching him grow older, looking more and more like his father each year. And my heart cracks.
“Is Henry here?” I ask.
“Hmmm. About that. He was here. We talked, and then he left.”
“He left?” I can feel myself panicking.
“Yes. He went after you.”
“What?”
“Apparently, you both had the same idea at the same time because he left here to go to San Francisco and find you.”
My heart hammers in my chest. “What…? When was this?”
“A little before I went on stage. Then I performed and just got off about twenty minutes ago. Hank’s on now. So, um, maybe two hours ago. He was going to catch a plane…” He pulls a small smartphone out of his pocket and looks at it. “He should be landing in SF soon.”
“Shit,” I say, feeling defeated.
Sean chuckles. “I’ll just tell him to come right back.” He types a text message on his phone, and for a moment, I am completely distracted by trying to figure out how he pushes the right buttons on such a tiny phone with his huge fingers.
When he’s done, he shoves the phone back in his pocket and smiles at me. “He’ll come back, and you two will work this out. In the meantime, you can hang out with me.”
Great. I can hang out with a world-renowned rock star and act like it’s no big deal for the next few hours, while I wait for his son to arrive and hopefully not reject me and break my heart.
“Um, okay…I should probably check on the Trek crew, too.”
“They’re gone.” He waves his hand. “They got a few shots of me on stage and took off. Since Henry is gone, they gave up. Besides Tom said he had what he needs for the show.”
I am at a loss for words. So I just stare at Sean Rush.
“You wanna watch Hank’s show?” he asks me.
I nod, like the pathetic, drooling, star-struck moron I am.
****
In one of the most surreal scenes of my life to date, I am sitting in Sean Rush’s living room. Dani has just served me a tall glass of green liquid she calls the “Baby Special.” It has more alcohol in it than I should ever drink in one sitting.
“Try it,” she encourages, sitting down on the coffee table and stretching out
her legs so they rest on the couch beside her husband. I am sitting at the other end of the couch and watch as he immediately takes her bare feet in his hands and begins to gently rub them.
I take a sip of the drink and find it refreshingly sweet and smooth. “This is dangerous,” I tell her.
“If you two get wasted and leave me here to explain it to Henry…” Sean says.
Dani smiles at him. “You’ll what?”
He shakes his head.
“Chelsea,” Dani says. “I’m so glad you came.”
“You miss me?” I ask her, harkening back to our easy camaraderie in Denver.
“Definitely! You need to stay for a few days and hang out with me and Bell. We’ll have a blast!”
“I get the impression Henry hates that you two are BFFs,” Sean says.
Dani waves her hand at him. “Whatever, Henry will just have to deal.”
“Agreed,” I say, clinking my glass to hers.
Sean chuckles.
“Okay, so. Let’s talk about why you’re here,” Dani says.
“I already made her spill her guts, Baby,” Sean tells her.
Dani was not at the concert. Apparently, she’d been helping Henry’s sister, Gloria, with something instead. So I’d spent Hank’s entire set sitting next to Sean backstage. Afterward, I’d ridden back to Malibu with him. Ten minutes after we’d arrived at the house, Dani finally made an appearance. And now here I am, sitting with the two of them on the couch.
I have to pinch myself to make sure I am awake.
“Yeah, but I didn’t get to hear it,” she complains. “At least give me the short version.”
I lean back into the corner of the very comfortable couch and take another sip of my drink. “Well, I managed to completely screw up the confrontation with Henry.” Which makes me feel like an ass, because she and I had discussed it in detail in Denver, and then I’d had three weeks to practice it. And I’d still completely fucked it up.
“How?” she asks.
“Well, I didn’t actually give him a chance to…um…respond.”
“Huh” is her only answer.
“I imagine it was not unlike conversations we’ve had, Baby,” Sean says to his wife.