The Fire Walker: A Rock Star Romance

by Amity Cross

  The outskirts of Denver slowly morphed into the countryside, the silence between us stretching on. Exactly how I wanted it. My mind focused on the road ahead and the radio, listening to the ads and the news, anything to keep my mind off the body sitting beside me. The body I still wanted to bury myself in despite all efforts to the contrary.

  The moment I was alone, I would call Zoe and rip shreds off her. There was no doubt her intentions were noble, but it was the wrong thing to do. Now I was stuck in a car with the one person who’d managed to ruin me because my stupid good guy streak wasn’t able to leave her stranded in the middle of the country. This was the part of the story where things would get wild, and somehow, we would get stuck together in a motel room somewhere, and things would explode. Not this story if I had anything to do with it.

  I stopped for petrol around lunchtime and without a word, got out and filled the tank. When I’d paid, I pulled the car into a park out the front and went inside for something to eat. I was vaguely aware that Jessie had followed me, but I didn’t have it in me to make eye contact. Grabbing a sandwich and some water, I took my haul back out to the car and ate in silence, watching the traffic on the highway zoom past.

  When Jessie got back in with her own food, it was awkward as hell. I began formulating the things I wanted to say to Zoe as a way to distract myself. This was the day from hell.

  “We can stop, you know,” Jessie said. “You might have to spend another day with me, but it won’t kill you.”

  I sighed sharply, leaning my elbow against the window.

  “It’s, like, a nine-hour drive to Kansas City.”

  I grimaced.

  “You can’t hate me forever. Nothing might ever happen between us again, and we might never be friends, but you can’t keep hating me.”

  I didn’t answer. I didn’t even know what to say to that.

  “I think you’re probably exhausted by now.”

  “From what?” I asked before I realized I actually wanted to know.

  “The driving,” she said carefully, and I knew she really meant the hate thing. I didn’t hate her. Hate was such a strong word. I nothinged her. I couldn’t feel anything for her because it was exhausting. It was exhausting having intense feelings for a woman who could so easily run away from it all.

  After letting the thought roll around in my head for a while, I said, “We’ll stop in Kansas City.”

  Kicking open the door to the motel room, I cursed when I saw there was only one bed. After a nine-hour drive, I just wanted to collapse and not worry about it. Instead, Jessie and I were being forced together like magnets. Probability said that the more time we spent together, the more I would want her because of the physical attraction and that it was only a matter of time, but this was too much.

  “You can take it,” Jessie said. “I can sleep in the car.”

  “Don’t be stupid,” I said. “Take the bed.”

  She just shrugged and dumped her bag on the floor by the far window. Deciding I would feel better after a hot shower, I disappeared into the bathroom and stood under the water for what seemed like hours before finally dragging myself out. I would have to face her sooner or later, and hiding in the bathroom wasn’t the best course of action. I was dying to call Zoe and tell her what for.

  Pulling on my boxers and T-shirt, I cracked the door open and let my gaze run over the bed where Jessie was curled up under the covers, fast asleep and in darkness. All of these feelings were pooling in my heart, and I didn’t know what the hell to do with them.

  Calling Zoe would have to wait until tomorrow.

  I didn’t know what part of me didn’t get her a separate room. Maybe the dark part that still wanted to screw her senseless. I climbed onto the bed next to her and lay on top of the covers, my back to her sleeping form.

  I could’ve just slid underneath and pulled her back into my chest, breathed her in so deep I would never forget her scent. I could’ve turned her over and kissed her awake, but it wouldn’t mean anything. It was just my body trying to control me. My heart wouldn’t be in it, and my heart was exactly what I wanted to use.

  Jessie was right. I couldn’t hate her forever. I didn’t have it in me to hate.

  Closing my eyes, I let sleep take me and hoped I would feel better about it in the morning.

  Chapter 16

  Jessie

  When I woke, I never expected to find Dee asleep next to me.

  My heart ached as I took in his soft expression—the slight rise and fall of his chest and the way his hair was messed up. It reminded me of the way he’d looked the morning I’d left in LA.

  Maybe we didn’t need to fix things. Maybe it was a case of starting over.

  I could keep saying I was sorry forever and never get anywhere. If I could get him to see the real me, then we might have a chance at being epic again.

  Before he could wake and catch me staring, I went into the bathroom and had a quick shower. By the time I came out, dressed and ready to go, he still hadn’t woken. He’d driven so far yesterday and not to mention whatever he’d been through before that, it was no wonder he was so tired. Deciding to leave him be for a while, I wandered outside and down the street where a diner sat by the side of the road. I bought a couple of bacon and sausage muffins and two takeout cups of coffee and went straight back to the motel.

  Balancing the food in one hand, I closed the door behind me with a soft thud. Dee let out a groan as he rolled over, his sleepy gaze finding mine. For a moment, he looked disoriented like he didn’t realize who he was looking at, then he frowned.

  “I got you something to eat,” I said indifferently. “Coffee, too.”

  I turned my back to him and set the food on the bench, then pulled out my share and began eating. There was nowhere to sit, so I propped myself against the counter.

  The mattress squeaked, and a moment later, he was beside me. “Thanks.”

  I stiffened slightly at the sound of his voice and nodded. “No problem.”

  We ate in silence, the smell of fresh bacon and coffee filling the tiny room finally overpowering the trademark mothball smell all motels seemed to have.

  “I’m going to have a shower,” Dee said, and for once, it wasn’t laced with anything untoward.

  I nodded, not wanting to speak in case I disturbed the uneasy equilibrium.

  He disappeared into the bathroom, and my shoulders sagged. Was that progress as minute as it was?

  By the time we were back in the car, it was less frosty than the day before. Dee still ignored me, but the tension in the air wasn’t as thick, and it made me wonder what had begun to change his mind.

  “Do you mind stopping at the next gas station?” I asked, breaking the silence.

  He glanced over at me, then back to the road. The only indication he gave me that he’d agreed was when he actually pulled off the highway into a bright, shiny BP that had about six or seven long-haul trucks in the lot. Cutting the engine, he sighed and sank back into the seat, stretching his arms.

  “Want anything?” I asked, fumbling for the door handle.

  “No thanks.” Grumpy, but still polite.

  Inside the gas station, I detoured past the ladies’ room and strolled down the aisle, looking for something to eat. Instead, I found myself looking at the magazine rack full of trashy tabloids, newspapers, and assorted pulp.

  My gaze fell onto a copy of Rolling Stone. It was the new edition, and I knew there would be an article in there on The Devil’s Tattoo. Remembering the shoot a week and a half ago, the one Georgie had masterfully arranged for me to be absent from, I realized they really had cut it close to the deadline. The edition probably went to print a few hours after the shoot.

  I snatched up the magazine with greedy hands and flipped through the pages, finding the spot where they’d printed the photograph. It was a double page with a small article about the band.

  Not surprisingly, my gaze was instantly drawn to Dee. He was standing behind everyone, but his presence was
imposing even in print. They all looked like rough rocker types, but his eyes were soft, looking over Zoe’s shoulder directly into the camera. Georgie, for all of her shortcomings, did a great job with the styling.

  My fingers traveled across the page, tracing the outline of Dee’s face, and I wished it were the real thing.

  Letting the magazine close in my hands, I went up to the counter and bought it, two bottles of water, and an assortment of candy bars, wondering if Dee had even seen the article yet. I couldn’t remember if his cell had rung or if he’d even looked at it the entire time I’d been around. I doubted something like that would have escaped my notice. The thought of him talking to someone else, to another woman, made jealousy flare.

  My cell started to ring shrilly in my pocket as I walked across the store, and when I pulled it out, the screen said Unknown Caller. Sighing, I declined the call. It was probably Georgie or some poor intern trying to get hold of me in the wake of another category five hurricane inside the marketing department. She could suck up all she wanted, but I wasn’t hers to order around anymore.

  I went back out to the car where Dee was still sitting, watching the traffic go past on the highway to hell. He jumped when I dumped the magazine into his lap.

  “Have you seen this yet?” I asked. “It just came out.”

  I watched carefully as he flipped open the magazine, settling on the page where the band’s photo was. He looked at it so long I didn’t know what to make of it. Was he unhappy with it? Wasn’t what he was expecting from the shoot? They didn’t write anything bad about them. In fact, the writer had said they were the next big thing. Coming from Rolling Stone, that was cracking the big time. No doubt, as soon as the album came out, it wouldn’t be long before Galaxy put a national tour together. They would try to get the band on the charts so the almighty Galaxy would be able to put another Grammy on their shelves. Strike while the iron was hot and all.

  If I were Georgie, I would get them on the festival circuit at the same time. Coachella would be their thing a billion times over.

  “What?” I asked when he was still staring at it after five minutes. “Don’t you like it?”

  “No,” he murmured. “It’s great.”

  “But?” What he said next made perfect sense, but it still surprised me.

  “I miss them.”

  “They’re your family,” I whispered.

  He glanced up at me, and even though I couldn’t see his eyes through his dark sunglasses, I knew they were sad. His lips twitched into a half-smile, and he handed the magazine back to me. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome,” I said, curling my fingers around the paper like it was a lifeline. “Didn’t anyone show you yet?”

  He shook his head. “I haven’t looked at my phone for a while now.”

  “Oh.” I was entirely sure that was my fault.

  Without another word, he turned the engine on and backed out of the space.

  I wondered how much longer this could go on for. I was slowly chipping away at the edges, trying to get to know him again, but was it enough? I’d stalled him for another day, but in another, we could be back in Brooklyn, and that would be it.

  I was so caught up in my thoughts that I jumped when Dee let out a snort.

  “What?” I asked, looking up at the billboard that was coming towards us. Big Al’s Shrimp Shack.

  “We’re in Kentucky,” he frowned, nodding toward the sign.

  “So?”

  “Doesn’t seem the place for a shrimp shack.”

  “There’s a lot of random stuff once you get out of the big cities,” I said. “Isn’t there stuff like that in Australia?”

  “Sure.”

  “Like what?”

  He shrugged. “There’s a lot of big things.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “There’s a big banana, a big pineapple, a big koala, a big prawn…”

  “No way.” I twisted in my seat a little so I could watch him.

  “It’s just tacky shit,” he said, looking at me out the corner of his eye. “Crap built on the side of the highway.”

  “So? I love tacky. What else is there?”

  He sighed and began rattling off the ones he knew. “There’s a big sheep, a big crab, a big rocking horse, a big macadamia nut.”

  “A macadamia nut? Wouldn’t that just be a big round ball?”

  “Pretty much.”

  I’d finally gotten him talking, and my heart began to swell with hope. The Dee that had hung out with me at Venice Beach was starting to surface again, and I would do anything to keep him there. “Is there a website with all of these? I would love to do a road trip one day.”

  “Probably,” he said slowly like he was suspicious of me.

  “What?” I grinned. “I love tacky tourist attractions. Australia sounds like my kind of holiday destination.”

  His eyebrow rose, and I sat back in my seat, flipping through the Rolling Stone magazine.

  “All I’m saying is that kind of stuff adds character to a place. Like there’s nothing there that people would want to come and see, but the people who do live there love it enough that they want others to come see it, too.”

  He let out a snort and shook his head at me like he didn’t believe I’d thought up that notion all on my own.

  “What?” I exclaimed with a smile.

  All Dee did was shake his head again and flip stations on the radio. Sensing he didn’t want to continue the conversation, I turned my attention back to the magazine, taking that one as a small victory. Another crack in the ice.

  Chapter 17

  Dee

  I didn’t know if it was the fact I was tired or on some subconscious level, I wanted to spend more time with Jessie, but I pulled over to a roadside motel later that afternoon.

  We were somewhere between St. Louis and Indianapolis, or at least, I thought we were. If we stayed one more night, then tomorrow we would reach New York in one piece. Maybe. I hadn’t looked at the map yet, which was my usual style. Don’t worry about it until the moment you get in the car.

  When I cut the engine, Jessie didn’t say a word. She just got out and stretched her arms back over her head, making her breasts stick out. Instantly, I felt my body respond and ran a hand over my face. With a sigh, I pushed open the door and went down to the office to get a room for the night.

  The room was the same as they all were. Motel entrepreneurs seemed to have this thing about floral prints from the seventies, but at least it was a decent bed for the night. It was the epitome of cheap and cheerful.

  “Are you hungry?” Jessie asked. “There was a takeout place down the street. I’ll go get something if you want me to.”

  “Okay.” I shrugged, setting my bag down on the end of the bed.

  “Chinese?”

  “Sure.” Anything to get her out of here so I could call Zoe. My best friend had it coming, and it was a conversation that didn’t need to be overheard.

  Once Jessie was gone, the door closing behind her, I pulled out my phone and switched it on. Immediately, there were several texts from Zoe and a voicemail from Simone. The voicemail I assumed was about the Rolling Stone article. The texts from Zoe were probably asking if I was okay. Reading through them, I groaned.

  Where are you? You okay?

  You’re not dead in a ditch, are you?

  Do I have to come over there and slap you senseless?

  Heeellllllooooooo.

  No mention of Jessie, but she was obviously trying to play coy. Hitting her name in my favorites list, I pressed the phone to my ear, listening to each ring while trying to decide what I was going to say. Best to come right out with it.

  “So you are alive,” Zoe declared when she picked up.

  “Barely.”

  “How are you doing?” She was totally tiptoeing around the thing she knew I wanted to talk about.

  “Zoe, why the fuck would you go after Jessie? Did you get hit in the head or something?”

  She sig
hed dramatically. “Took you long enough, Dee Dee.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I could see how much it was eating you up.”

  “Yeah,” I said, “but you didn’t have to go and persuade her to come find me.”

  “I did what I thought was right.”

  “You didn’t go there in person did you?”

  “Maybe…” she said like she was trying to hide something.

  “Zoe!” I exclaimed, throwing my free hand into the air in exasperation.

  “Dee, she was scared.”

  “She left me.”

  “I know she did a shit thing.” Her voice was short. “She was scared. I get it. I ran, too. Maybe not so dramatically, but I ran, too.”

  “What did she tell you?”

  “You know it’s not my place to blab things she said to me in confidence. It doesn’t work that way.”

  I grunted. Of course, I knew it. When she and Will were screwed up, she would’ve throttled me if I’d spilled. Jessie needed to tell me on her own terms, but the fact was, I knew she wouldn’t. She’d made that clear when she ran.

  “So she’s road tripping with you?”

  “I couldn’t leave her in the middle of buttfuck nowhere.” I rubbed my eyes.

  “Of course, you wouldn’t.”

  “’Cos I’m a fucking good guy.”

  “It’s not a bad thing, Dee. How many times do I have to tell you?” she scolded me.

  “I’ve got a pretty thick skull.”

  “So thick, I wonder if there’s even a brain in there.”

  Despite myself, I laughed at her stupid joke.

  “Has she talked to you about it yet?”

  “No. I wasn’t exactly thrilled to see her, Zo.”

  “I hope you weren’t an ass.”

  “I was a big fucking ass. She won’t talk to me, anyway.”

  “If she won’t tell you, maybe you should ask.”

  “Maybe I don’t wanna know.”