The XOXO New Adult Collection: 16 Full Length New Adult Stories

by Brina Courtney

  “Thank you, Harrison.”

  I swallow hard at the way my name rolls off her tongue. “You’re welcome, Katelyn.”

  I turn and walk into my small room and throw myself onto the bed and will the instant hard on away.

  This is going to be long-ass tour.

  CHAPTER 4

  Katelyn

  “Mason, how did you get here?”

  “What do you mean? I walked.”

  “Is it a long walk?”

  “What are you talking about? I walk from school to home all the time.”

  “But you’re...”

  “I’m what? What’s going on Katelyn, why are you moving away from me?”

  I look at the distance between the both of us and move closer. He extends his arm, his hand reaching for mine. My reaction is automatic, like I’ve done this a million times. I have. For as long as I can remember, I’ve always been holding his hand. My palm slips into his, he holds my hand tightly. I look down at them, our wedding rings shine as they reflect off the sun.

  Sun? I thought we were inside.

  I look around. Flowers and wheat surround us. We weren’t here before.

  Mason wraps his arm around me, pressing his lips to my ear. I hold him there, afraid to let go.

  “It’s time, Katelyn.”

  I’m afraid to know the answer, so I don’t ask. “Stay.”

  Mason pulls back and smiles. I’ve missed him so much. The girls will be so happy to know he’s back. That he’s come back to us and everything has just been a nightmare.

  He pulls my hand to his mouth and kisses my wedding band and engagement ring.

  “I’ll love you no matter what.”

  He’s gone just like that.

  “Mason, come back.”

  “Please. I can’t do this without you.”

  I run, looking for wherever he went. I look down. Everything is black. I’m barefoot and bleeding.

  “Katelyn?”

  I jump when he shakes my arm. I know who it is by his voice. I sit up, adjusting the book I was reading in my lap. I move my matted hair away from my face. I can’t believe he’s standing next to me, staring. I’m a mess.

  He hands me a tissue. I look at him questioningly.

  “You were crying.”

  I take the tissue from his hand and wipe my eyes. I haven’t dreamt of Mason in months and never like this. They’ve always been about the accident and how it plays out in my mind. This dream... it means something else, but what?

  “Thank you,” I say, clearing my throat. He stands and nods, heading back to the chair he was sitting in until he woke me. I look out of the window, the passing fields flying by as we travel down the highway. I don’t know where we are, but all I can see is a random farmhouse every now and again.

  Harrison clears his throat loudly. My kneejerk reaction is to look over. He rubs his hand over his black beanie. It slides back and forth slightly. I watch intently, waiting for the tiniest hint of his hair. I wish he’d take the hat off, but he never does. If I had any nerve, I’d rip the sucker from his head and run. Burn the thing when he’s not looking.

  The beanie moves only inches, nothing telling. He glances over, catching me staring. I can’t look away, even though I should. I look over my shoulder for anyone to rescue me. There’s no one. I’m alone with him.

  I’ve known this man for months. We’ve had dinner. Work together almost daily. When we aren’t working, we are around each other, so why for the love of God can I not sit in the same general vicinity without needing someone else in the room? I’m a professional. He’s a professional. We can be adults.

  Right?

  I turn back, catching his eye. He shakes his head, turns and looks out the window. I open my mouth to say something... anything, but nothing comes out. I don’t understand why I can’t talk to him. It makes no sense, this way I’m acting toward him. I’m sure he’s a decent human being, regardless of the tattoos on his arms. It’s not just his arms though, his leg too. He has something on his calf, but unless I bend down to look or ask him, I’ll never know what it is.

  I could drop a pen the next time I’m standing near him and get a good look. How long does it take to pick-up a pen and mentally take a picture? Longer than I have, because he’s always aware of me. It’s like he’s a magnet and I’m the piece of metal he wants to attach to, which is just silly because magnets are attracted to other magnets and I’m not a magnet.

  When he gets up I jump, dropping the book I have resting in my lap. My gaze follows him down the aisle. He enters the girls’ room, and before I can get up and find out what the hell he’s doing in there, he’s out and holding Elle in his hands. She’s clinging to him, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. Her face squished into the front of his shirt.

  He stops in front of me. “She was crying.”

  I look from him to my daughter and down the aisle. He heard her crying, but I didn’t? What does that make me?

  I reach for her, but she clings to him. She whimpers lightly, which breaks my heart. She’s upset and would rather be comforted by him than me. I don’t get it.

  “I can hold her for a while until she’s asleep again,” he offers. His voice is incredibly soft and caring. I nod, even though it pains me to do so. She needs her mother, not him. I’m the one who takes care of the girls. Me. Yet, it looks like Harrison has been holding her from the day she was born.

  Watching him sit down with her, he moves with such care and ease. He reclines his chair, nestling Elle across his chest. I get up and cover them both with my blanket. He smiles so softly, as if this gesture was the nicest thing anyone has ever done for him. He closes his eyes, his arms wrapped tightly around my baby. I wonder if he knows that he’s holding half my life in his hands.

  I pull her hair away from her face and feel her forehead, testing for a fever. Maybe the driving is getting to her, making her sick. This is their first road trip, unlike Quinn who has done this many times. The girls have never gone anywhere.

  “She feels fine, must’ve been a bad dream,” Harrison says this without opening his eyes. I hate to admit it, but he’s a natural. All I can do is step away and watch him keep the demons at bay.

  “Do you think we should wake them?”

  The sound of young voices, those of the other children, ring in my ear. I open my eyes slowly. Six pairs of eyes stare back at me. One set, in particular, has her arms crossed over her chest. She’s without her football and I wonder, if for one moment, she realizes she’s not holding it. I refuse to call attention to that fact. Maybe she needed this trip more than the rest of us.

  I stretch and quickly surmise that sleeping in a chair is painful. I remember why I was sleeping here and look over to see Harrison and Elle still covered and sound asleep. She looks like she hasn’t moved an inch and by the looks of his arms, he has a death grip on her.

  “Do you know if we are stopping soon?” Quinn asks. I haven’t seen much of him since we took off. He and Noah have spent a majority of their time in Liam and Josie’s room playing video games.

  “I’m...” I sound as if I have a frog in my throat, which makes them all laugh. “I don’t know, but I’ll find out. I’m sure you guys are hungry. Just think, after the first stop we’ll be staying in hotels most of the time.”

  “Yes!” Quinn fists pumps. “You guys, the hotels are so awesome and they bring you all the food you want. My dad doesn’t care if I jump on the bed either.”

  “Yes I do, I just never catch you doing it.”

  Quinn’s head whips around. I’m not sure if he’s in trouble or not. Harrison winks at him, causing Quinn to smile so wide he shows his missing teeth.

  “How do you wake her up?”

  “Like this.” Before I can say anything, Peyton slaps Elle so hard that she starts crying. Harrison stands and moves Elle away from Peyton’s fury. I pull Peyton aside.

  “What is wrong with you?” I’m trying to look at Peyton, but can’t take my eyes off of Harrison and Elle. H
e’s holding her, rubbing her back where her sister hit her.

  She crosses her arms and looks away.

  “What’s going on out here? You’d think we were travelling with a zoo?” Liam says.

  He and Josie join our early morning circus. Josie takes Elle from Harrison, who doesn’t look happy. Liam ruffles Noah and Quinn’s hair all while Peyton glares at me. I take her hand in mine and walk her down the aisle to my small bunkroom. Whoever said travelling by tour bus was easy is so mistaken. Our rooms are barely wide enough to fit a twin bed and one of our bunks has two grown men in it.

  “What’s going on, Peyton? Why did you hit your sister?”

  “I felt like it.”

  “That’s not a good enough answer and you know it’s not okay to hit.”

  “Elle hits me.”

  “Peyton—”

  “NO! You always take her side. She hits me all the time and you never do anything about it because she’s your favorite and I was daddy’s favorite and he’s gone so I have no one.” She yells at the top of her lungs, loud enough that everyone on the bus hears her. She has tears running down her face. I reach for her, but she hits my hand. She doesn’t want me to touch her.

  The door opens. Liam is standing there. He looks at me and then to Peyton. He picks her up and holds her in his arms. A moment later, his door shuts. I step out and try to listen, but he’s whispering to her. I can hear her crying and I can’t do anything about it. I can’t comfort either of my children.

  Josie wraps her arms around me, holding me close. “We’re stopping soon. Everyone is just cramped and not used to being cooped up for so long. She’ll be fine.”

  “What if she’s not?”

  “Then we’ll figure it and go from there. Maybe the girls need to see a therapist or something when we get back. They might want to talk to someone who isn’t their mom.”

  “Elle had a nightmare last night. I didn’t even hear her crying, Harrison did. He went and got her and when I tried to take her, she wouldn’t let go of him. He fell asleep in the chair with my baby wrapped in his arms and all I could do was sit there and watch another man hold Mason’s daughter.”

  Josie pulls back and looks at me, her hands resting gently on my cheeks. “Mason would approve of Harrison, Katelyn. You should give him a chance.”

  She walks away, not waiting for answer, but I give her one anyway. “I can’t.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Harrison

  I have my routine on the day of a show. It starts with a run at the nearest park, away from the hotel and the constant pampering. This was always frowned upon by Sam, but it helped me keep a clear head. She was always worried I’d bring back some groupie. The way I saw it, if they could keep up with me, they deserved to come back and hang out.

  After my run, I seek out a local coffee shop and grab a cup and walk back to the hotel. Breakfast follows, then a shower before heading to the venue for rehearsal. A very mundane routine, when you think about it.

  As I wake in the comfort of a down comforter and Egyptian cotton sheets with a snoring Quinn beside me, I know my routine can stay the same. I can get up and do the same things I’ve done over and over again, or I can change. The question is, how much do I need to change before she notices me for me? I see the way she looks at my tattoos. She definitely doesn’t look at Liam like that, just me. I don’t know why, but I want to change it.

  I had planned to talk to her last night when we pulled in. Thought about calling her down to the hot tub with some excuse, but nothing I came up with was plausible. I almost stooped as low as bringing Josie into my devious plan, but knew I was asking for trouble.

  Instead, I stood outside my door and watched her open hers. She looked at me briefly before the heavy door separated us, the loud clank sealing my fate yet again.

  I stare up at the ceiling, wondering if I could count the tiny specks before Quinn wakes up and demands breakfast. The problem with this logic is that my eyes blur before I can even get passed five. Chalk up another failure.

  I throw the blankets off and head to the shower. I should get back into my old habits. Josie could watch Quinn, or the maid on the floor could listen for him if something was wrong. He’s old enough to hang out in the room by himself for an hour and he has a cell phone. A simple text from me saying I’m running wouldn’t make him freak out. Although, waking up and realizing I’m not here would. The last thing I want is for him to be upset or for Katelyn to find out I left him alone. That’s not the image I need her to have of me.

  I step into the shower and turn on the water. The cold pounds against my skin; I stand there taking the punishment, for what, I don’t know. Maybe this is my consequence for lusting after a woman who clearly doesn’t want me. Maybe those hints that I’m seeing are just my clouded vision and demented mind at work. She probably throws daggers at me every time I turn around.

  I move further under the spray as the water warms up. Lathering up the soap, I scrub my body. I find a bare spot on my arm and think about setting up an appointment for some ink. A vision of Katelyn flashes before my eyes, bare skinned with her dark hair falling over her shoulders. She’s standing there, her hand tracing her hip. There’s ink, a delicate design of lilies spreading across her hip to her back. If the thought of her having one arouses me, I don’t know what I’d do if she ever got one.

  I’d pass out if I were allowed to see it.

  I’d die if I were allowed to touch it.

  When I walk back into the room, Quinn is awake and flipping through the channels. He smiles at me before turning back to the television. He’s going to be eight soon and starting third grade. I can’t believe at one time I used to hold him while he slept. Now, he’s growing so much, I can’t keep up.

  “Want to watch cartoons?” Quinn pats the spot next to him on the bed. He winks at me before he starts laughing. I can’t help but laugh. Not at him, but with him. He makes everything better in my life. I take the spot next to him, putting my arm around him. He cozies up against my chest. I rest my head on top of his and watch his morning shows.

  Since moving to Beaumont, he’s adjusted so well. I’m sure he misses his tutor, but I like the idea of him getting on the bus every morning and sitting in a classroom. I don’t know what it’s like to make him a lunch and help him put his backpack together. He needs to be with kids his age and not depend on me or the television for entertainment. I like the relationship he’s developed with Noah, who has taken sort of a big brother role with Quinn. If I didn’t know better, I’d say things are looking up for us, except for me in the love department. Seems I’m jonesing after someone that doesn’t want to have anything to do with me.

  I startle awake at the sound of knocking. My sorry ass saunters to the door. I’m not even sure what time it is, but the sun is blazing through the windows in my front room. I should remember to shut those before I go to bed. The knocking comes again, stronger this time. I rub my head, pulling at my hair. I need a haircut, it’s getting too long.

  “I’m coming,” I yell out when the offender knocks again. I undo the chain and deadbolt. You can never be too safe in Los Angeles. I open the door to a nice little package. She’s tall and skinny. Her hair pulled back in a tight pony tail. My eyes drift down, her eyes hiding behind dark glasses. Her lips are painted a dark red and I wonder how long it would take me to get that nasty crap off them. She’s wearing a tight black t-shirt with 4225 West on the front. Lovely, I’ve opened the door for a groupie. Sam is going to have a field day with this one. I continue my once over, her tight jeans accentuating her rocking little figure.

  She rests one hand on her hip and sighs. “This is heavy, can you let me in?” I look at her other hand, she’s carrying some type of large contraption and it’s making noise.

  “Do I know you?”

  “Of course you do,” she says with such confidence that I push the door wider, allowing her to step in. As she walks by, I notice the contraption is actually carrying a baby. This chick brought her kid
to my house. I certainly hope I didn’t tell her I’d babysit. I know I was drinking last night, but pretty sure I’d remember offering to change diapers.

  I follow her into the living room. She sits down on the couch and leaves her baby in the carry thing on the floor. I stand, across from her, against the wall, still not sure if I know this woman.

  “Do you remember me?”

  I shake my head.

  “No, you probably don’t. You were pretty hammered.”

  “I don’t get hammered,” I say in response her to statement. That is the one thing I’ve prided myself on, not drinking myself into a stupor. People make stupid decisions when they’ve been drinking.

  “Well, you were that night.”

  “What’s your name?” I’m quickly realizing that I’ve made a mistake letting her into my house.

  “Alicia.”

  “Alicia, what?”

  “Tucker. Alicia Tucker. We met about ten months ago.”

  I’m not stupid. I can do the math. I know it takes nine months for a baby to do its thing.

  “Looks like you’ve been busy since we met.” This comment causes her to rip her sunglasses off her eyes. If looks could kill, I’d be dead right about now and she’d be cleaning out my checking account.

  “We met ten months ago after one of your shows. I was backstage and we went to the bar. I bought you a drink and you brought me back here.”

  “Okay.” I’m not sure what else to say. I can only imagine what happened when we came back here and sad to say it, but it wasn’t memorable.

  “Anyway, this...” she points to the carrier on the floor. “Is yours.”

  The last two words hang in the air. I heard her loud and clear. I don’t need her to repeat herself. I look at her and the carrier. The baby is mostly covered, except the face. I don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl. I really don’t care. This chick is nuts. I always wrap my junk.

  “What makes you think he’s mine?”

  “Because we slept together and I got pregnant.”

  “Not possible. I don’t drink so I can avoid situations like this. I always wrap my junk. Your kid isn’t mine.”