by Layne Harper
I scream and stomp my foot. “This is fucking serious.”
His head drops. “Okay. I get it. This was an issue. I probably need to contact a counselor.”
“Damn right you do.”
He looks up with a smile. “You know, if you moved in with me then the problem would be solved.”
“The last thing I’m going to do is move in with you. You’re crazy.” I shake my head and start looking for an escape route. This’s the second time he’s brought it up. No. Not until he can stand on his own two sober feet.
He walks over to where I’m standing and lifts my chin. His features are relaxed, and the twinkle is in his eyes. “What’s so wrong with me? I mean, I can’t stay in New Orleans forever. Once the album is done, there’s promotion and touring and everything that goes with it. You’ll have to come along then.”
I have no idea what time it is, but it’s either very late at night or almost morning. I’m worn out. There was coke on his bedside table, I’m the key to his sobriety, and now he wants to talk about our living arrangements. How fast can a pink ’57 Caddy go? Because I need one to get me away from this situation.
“Have you heard of timing?” I ask him.
Now, it’s his turn to ask, “What?”
“Like maybe the best time to discuss me living with you isn’t after I find coke in your room.”
He smiles, and it reaches his eyes. I’ve come to know this look. It means playful Aaron is back. “What would be a better time? I could get alcohol poisoning again. Or better yet, jail was fun. We could discuss it during visiting hours.” His finger goes to his chin as his eyes move towards the ceiling. “I know.” His face lights up. “We could have a serious discussion about you living with me while I handcuff you to the bed, and the only way to earn your release is for you to agree.”
I know he’s teasing, but his humor is lost on me at the moment. Taking off my lucky necklace Bella gave me, I slip it over his head. It rests just above his pecs. He stares at it, and then his head tilts in confusion. “What’s this for?”
“It’s my good luck charm. I think you need it more than me. When I wear it, it makes me feel like I’m never alone and I have direction. As long as you have it on, I might not be with you, but my heart always will be.”
He picks it up and gives it a kiss. Leaning forward, I place my lips where his were. “Thank you. I’ll take good care of it until you ask for it back.”
I go into his closet and find the softest T-shirt that I can. It’s a Def Leppard concert shirt that has been washed probably a thousand times.
“Remember, MK. I like you sleeping naked.” He’s lying on the bed holding his cock again when I emerge.
“Fuck you,” I reply as I crawl under the duvet leaving the T-shirt discarded at the foot of the mattress.
“I never got that blow job,” he reminds me, as if I’m heading to the store and he’s pointing out that we need milk. He crawls to me, pulling me against him and slips under the duvet.
“Fuck you.” I snuggle against his side, and my head rests on his heart.
“We could have a quickie.” His voice is getting softer, and his heartbeat is slowing.
“Fuck you,” I mumble.
“Good night, sweetheart. Love you,” he says as we both drift off to sleep.
Chapter Sixteen
Rock Magazine @RockMagazine
Confirmed RealJohnnyKnite played the guitar and sang for the first time since exiting rehab. Sources say his voice sounded great.
Rock Magazine @RockMagazine
RealJohnnyKnite played for about three hours in a small bar in NOLA. Said to be impromptu. Hoping this is his comeback.
Not a particle of air is trapped between us. Aaron’s body is draped across me. His head is next to mine, sharing one pillow. Shallow puffs of air tickle my ear as I lie here contemplating my life. I’ve always been more impulsive than other members of my family. Bethany is a doctor who performs God’s work in the poorest of the poor neighborhoods. I have a lifestyle blog. Bethany married Ben, who was literally the boy next door. I’m dating a rock star. We couldn’t be more different. I wonder what she would think if she could see me now on this early Saturday morning, naked and entangled in one of the sexist men on the planet’s arms. Would she be jealous or mortified?
It’s amazing how things change. When the month began, I was single, working in a dead-end job, and staring at my bank account, wondering if I was brave enough to make NoPinkCaddy into a full-time job. The month isn’t even half over, and I’m in love with a rock star and am determined to make my site my career.
I smile in spite of myself. Aaron has issues, some of them rather enormous, I don’t care. I’ve fallen so hard for this man. He’s my person. Even though he makes me feel like I’ve been hit by a train sometimes.
Watching him play last night was a religious experience. He was so beautiful—lost in his world, strumming his guitar and singing as if his life depended on it. In some ways, it had. He didn’t use. He went to Eddy’s and played music instead. I guess that’s good, but he still bought it.
This will be the rest of my life. The threat of him using again will always be real. Last night was a lot to digest, and I’m thankful that he’s working today and all day tomorrow so I have some time to process it.
I don’t bother thinking about moving in with him. It’s too much, and this is too early in the morning to think about such serious things after not getting much sleep.
Somehow I manage to untangle myself without waking him. Rolling over, I stare at my fallen angel rock god. So beautiful. Majestic enough that the great sculptors of history would have begged him to be their model. But a darkness lurks under that gorgeous face. His soul is a tortured one, and if I’m honest with myself, I wonder if our lives will ever be easy.
Stepping into his bathroom, I shut the door behind me. There’s a bit of white powder left on the toilet seat. My hand swipes over it ensuring every spec is gone. I flush the toilet twice—just to be safe. Next, I use his toothbrush to rid my mouth of morning breath.
I slide on the clothes that I wore to the bar last night. My goal is to sneak out of the house before anyone is awake, especially Grace.
Opening Aaron’s bedroom door, I slip through and pull it quietly to. I tiptoe down the hall and past all the closed doors that I’ve never opened. Then, as I enter into the kitchen, I see a girl with a beautiful shade of blond hair sitting at the counter.
The smell of coffee makes my mouth water. “Hi,” I say as I walk to the pot. So much for me sneaking out.
She spins around on the barstool, and I recognize her immediately. It’s Jude. “Good morning. I hope I didn’t wake you guys.”
Fortunately, there’s a mug near the coffee pot so I don’t have to rummage through cabinets. “No. I didn’t know anyone was awake. I was just about to head home. How was your flight?”
I feel like my mom just caught me shacking up with my boyfriend. Ugh! This isn’t how I would’ve liked to have officially met Jude.
She giggles. God, she’s beautiful. Hair the same color as her dad’s with high cheekbones and full lips, the shade of pink Azaleas. “Flying in my dad’s plane is never bad.”
I smile and take a sip of my coffee. “I bet so. Thanks for making a pot.”
“Dad doesn’t drink it. It’s more for me and Aunt Grace.”
I walk around the island and sit down next to her. She has a fashion magazine open to an article about the latest trends in nail color. “I’m MK, by the way.” I reach out my hand. I met her at the restaurant, but I still feel the need to introduce myself.
She blushes a little. “I know. I wanted Dad to invite you and your friend to our table, but he got the funny look he gets sometimes and told me no.”
It’s too early to speculate why he didn’t include Bella and me.
“So your dad said you attend Vanderbilt?” I ask, taking a sip of coffee.
“I do. I’m a freshman.”
“What’s your maj
or?”
“Undecided. I think I want to be an equine veterinarian, but that’s a lot of schooling. Not sure I’m ready to commit that much time.” She takes a sip of her coffee which is so filled with cream it looks more like melted vanilla ice cream. “Can I ask you a question?”
I swallow. “Sure. I guess.”
“Do you love my dad?”
Wow! She is just like her father—she has the same inability to lead up to questions like that one. I set my mug down and contemplate how to answer. She’s an adult, but Jude is still Aaron’s little girl. I don’t know what he’s told her about us. The last thing I want to do is step on anyone’s parenting toes.
I must have taken too long because she says, “It’s okay. I probably shouldn’t have asked. It’s just nice to see him happy. I worry about him all the time. Especially the last couple of years. He was never drunk or high around me, but I’m not an idiot. I knew he was using. I saw the news stories about him being carried out of bars and messing up songs he wrote and had been playing for years.”
Apparently, I have not read enough, because her revelations are news to me. Aaron made rehab seem more like a formality because of the assault charge, not something that he needed to do to save his life.
She continues, “His lawyer was working on the plea deal that included a stint in rehab so I think he decided to party his ass off before he had to get clean.” Pausing, she takes a sip of coffee. “You know, my mom was an addict. I just don’t want to lose another parent.” She says this like teenagers talk about their prom dresses. Sweet Jude. She’s had a rougher life than most girls her age.
Her eyes become glassy, and I flash back to last night and Aaron buying the drugs. He can’t do that to his daughter. I scoot off my stool and give her a hug. She hugs me back, and I realize that yes, she might be an adult, but in some ways she’s still a little girl who loves her daddy and is scared to death for him.
“I adore your dad. He’s a good man with a huge heart. I got to hear him play for the first time last night, and he took my breath away. I just want to make sure you know that I’m in to him for the right reasons.”
She dabs at her eyes. “I know you are. That’s why I told him . . .”
“Jude,” Aaron booms.
She jumps off her stool and runs to him. He grabs her in a huge bear hug and squeezes her so hard I fear for the poor girl’s ribs. His face is lit up like Christmas morning. There’s no doubt how much he loves his little girl. And that familiar ache happens in my own chest. He’ll be a great dad to our babies.
“What’s with the necklace?” she asks as she touches it.
He winks in my direction. “Someone special gave it to me.”
She grabs his hand and walks him over to where I sit. “MK and I were having a cup of coffee and talking about life.”
He kisses the top of my head. “Were you? I’m sure my name was never brought up.”
She giggles again, and it’s freaking adorable.
“Didn’t know you drank coffee,” he mentions as he wraps his arm around my shoulders.
“When Seamus went grocery shopping, he didn’t purchase any. Apparently, it was too mature.” I cock an eyebrow. “Fortunately, I had a bit left.”
He laughs and kisses me again. “So what do my favorite girls want to do today? Jude, this is your last weekend before the last round of tests and then finals. Should we tear up the town? Get tattoos? Run naked through the streets?”
“I thought you guys were working on the new album today.” She takes a sip of her coffee and offers the mug to Aaron. He makes a face like he’s smelled something rotten.
They both turn and look at me with the exact same expression on their faces. It’s eerie. “Look, guys. Since I’m now the full-time CEO of NoPinkCaddy, I have more to do than I can say grace over. Why don’t you guys hang out, and I’ll go get some work done.” The last thing I want to do is come between Jude and Aaron. I’ve never dated a man with a child before, but I’m no fool. She’ll always come first, and that makes me adore him even more.
“No,” Jude says as she looks at Aaron who is pouring himself a bowl full of rainbow-colored balls. He pauses mid-pour and looks up at her. She turns to me so we’re facing each other. “I will feel so much better going back to school if I get to know you, MK. Let Dad and I help you with your business. You know we are your biggest fans.”
I glance at Aaron; he looks so happy. A genuine smile meets his eyes and is plastered on his face, and his cheeks glow.
I shrug. “Why not? Mind if I go home and get cleaned up? Y’all have lunch and then come on over.”
“Great!” she says as she bounces out of her chair. “I’m going to go get ready.”
Aaron and I both watch her disappear down the hall.
When we’ve heard the door shut, Aaron walks around the island and gives me a surprise full-on make-out kiss. It’s been at least seven hours since our spat. I’ve missed his attention. “Thank you for including her.”
“She’s worried about you,” I reply. Leaning back, I study his face to make sure he’s okay after last night. He looks like Aaron . . . but happier. “She needs to be reassured you’re okay so she can be okay.”
His hand drags through his hair, and the glow fades from his features. “She blames herself. She thinks it’s her fault that I went through such a bad period. She thinks if she hadn’t gone to the barn that evening, I wouldn’t have spiraled out of control. She won’t date. She didn’t go to prom. Her roommate says she turns down every guy who asks her out.”
My fingers trace my star. “Would you mind if I ask my best friend, Bella, to run into us today? I think she might be able to help Jude. She’s also a survivor of sexual assault.”
Aaron shrugs. “I’m willing to try anything. She needs to quit worrying about me and just be a college kid who dates and has fun again.”
***
Two hours later, I’m showered and dressed. I texted Bella and asked if she would drop by. She said her and Nyall were working on the wedding, but of course, she would find some time to meet my rock star and his daughter.
I sit down at my computer to share a bit of my life with my fans. Our picture is out there. I’m doing them a disservice by not giving them details.
There’s been a bit of gossip about my boy . . . Yes. It’s true. I met Aaron Emerson, AKA Johnny Knite—front man for ACE, at a local bar here in New Orleans, not having a clue he was a famous rock star. Before you judge, would you expect to run into someone famous at the local corner Starbucks when you just popped in for a Frappuccino? I think not.
Anyway, I really liked him even before I found out what he did for a living. He’s touched something inside of me, inspiring me to live life bolder than I have been. He was the catalyst for me resigning from my day job and making this site my full-time priority.
You’ve probably seen the photos going around of us eating in a restaurant. I’d like to share this one with you. It was taken at Grandmother’s ball. I think it truly says how we feel about each other.
Grandmother’s photographer had been kind enough to email me the photo a couple of days ago. At the time, Aaron hadn’t contacted me so it sat in my inbox. But when I saw it, I gasped. We look like young lovers. I’m so content with my hand and head on his heart. My fans deserve to see me this happy after listening to all my sadness for so many years.
There’s a knock on the door. It’s not locked, so I yell for whoever it is to come in assuming it’s Aaron.
He enters with a scowl on his face. “Lock your fucking doors, MK. Do you need another speech about safety?”
I hang my head in mock shame and then peek up at him through my lashes. “I’ll never do it again.”
He shakes his head as if he’s disgusted with me. Aaron’s dressed up for the occasion to help with my site—trucker-style baseball hat, worn jeans, and the Def Leppard concert T-shirt I took out of his closet last night.
Jude is dressed in pair of skinny jeans, a green sweater, an
d boots with such a high heel that she’s almost as tall as Aaron.
“Make yourself comfortable. I need two more seconds.”
Jude says to Aaron, or perhaps more to herself, “This is where she films it all.”
I look up from my computer screen and glance around my apartment. It’s nothing special, in my opinion. It’s just a small kitchen with a large center island made of marble. My wood kitchen cabinets are painted white. My living room is the area in front of the island. It’s nothing more than a velvet blue couch, overstuffed chair, and my marble thrift store find coffee table and sofa table behind the couch. One wall of my place is red brick. The other walls are painted a neutral shade of grey.
“Dad, remember when she taught us how to make crab cakes? This is where she was,” Jude says as she walks around my kitchen island.
That particular video contains one of my original recipes. Not to sound conceited, but my crab cakes are divine.
I finish up and hit submit before I say to them, “We have a choice today. The three of us can go downstairs to my garage and work on refinishing a dresser, or we can go thrift shopping?”
Jude squeals. “Your thrift shopping videos are my favorite. Let’s go!”
After the lecture I received about not sharing Jude on my site, I’m not so sure this is a good idea after all. I should have thought before suggesting it. I look at Aaron. “I can have you film just me or she can even play the role of camera operator today.”
“No,” she interjects. Turning to him, she pleads her case. “Dad, I’m about to be nineteen. MK, will not use my name, but please let me be in her thrift shopping video. The girls in the dorm will be so jealous.”
My head snaps in Aaron’s direction. The inside of his cheek is being worked between his teeth. I can only assume he’s waging an internal war. Does he acknowledge Jude is an adult and let her choose to finally make herself public or does he continue to play the part of overprotective Dad and tell her no?
“You confirmed on your site that we’re dating?” He asks in a controlled manner.