KADE: A Second Chance Rockstar Romance

by Jane Anthony

  I crumple to the floor of the bus in a puddle of self-disgust. I lost my girl, and now, I’ve lost my mind. “Jen. Please.”

  My anger has fizzled into a painful ball of regret and anguish bouncing around in my gut. My head hangs in my hands as my back rests against the cabinet, and I feel my face and palms grow damp.

  “I can’t let her go.”

  ***

  Thank God this tour is over. Spending almost a year on the road is starting to wear thin. I’m too old for this shit. I know it’s part of the job, but somewhere along the line, touring went from exciting to just damn exhausting. Different cities, different faces—they all blur together into a sea of nothingness. When I look back at the last thirty-three years of my life, that’s all I see. Nothing.

  Sure, my career is the stuff of legends. I am the Stone Cold God of Rock-n-Roll. Rock Show Magazine crowned me with that title over a decade ago, and I’ve lived up to that name every day of my life since. I’ve defended it with blood and sweat, never resting until the world knew I was the king. I sat atop my musical empire, squashing anyone who had the misfortune of climbing anywhere near my level. I was un-fucking-touchable. Then, in the blink of an eye, everything changed.

  Ainsley Daniels.

  Her name is like a symphony. It rolls off my tongue so fluidly; it’s almost like the letters are dancing. The memories of her are so vivid in my mind; if I close my eyes, it’s almost like she’s still here. As if she didn’t disappear like the fog, while the rest of the world was sleeping. I went ballistic and ran after her, but it was too late. She was over it.

  My entire kingdom came crashing down around me. The walls I’d built within cracked and crumbled and fell to the floor in shattered shards of the life I’d worked so hard to achieve.

  Fucking Ainsley Daniels. She is a typhoon. A tidal wave. A goddamned wrecking ball. She burst into my world unannounced and left nothing but destruction in her wake. The worst part about it: I can’t get her out of my head.

  She is the kind of woman who sneaks into your heart undetected. Her smile is poison, and her eyes are a razor. You won’t even realize you’ve been cut until your blood hits the floor.

  At first glance, I believed she was the damaged soul who needed fixing. It wasn’t until she left that I knew it was the other way around. She didn’t need me—I needed her. I still need her.

  Our single, “In Ainsley’s Eyes”, went platinum almost overnight. It was our biggest success story to date, and the last thing I’ve successfully written. After the much-needed break, we’re supposed to start work on the new album. The label is breathing hard down my neck to continue this hot streak we were on, but I’m in way over my head. I have a notebook full of random lines scrawled on various pages, but nothing even close to a song. It’s all lover’s lament bullshit. I’m so fucked.

  I’ve spent the last year searching for answers in the bottom of a bottle. The stomach-scorching burn of whiskey does nothing to fill the emptiness I feel, knowing she made her choice and it wasn’t me. I should have fought harder to keep her. Instead, she told me to go, and I went.

  The front door creaks open then slams shut, but I don’t make a move to see who came in. Heavy footsteps trudge into the room, and my drummer’s drawl cuts through the quiet. “Jesus, Kade, you look like shit. It’s three o’clock in the afternoon. Are you drunk already?”

  Banger’s holier-than-thou attitude does nothing for my already dark mood. He walks over to the blinds and twists them open. The brilliant California sun filters in through the window blinding me with its yellow shafts of light.

  “What do you want, Lance?” It’s been so long since I’ve talked to another person, that my voice comes out like I’ve been gargling sawdust.

  Banger scowls at the sound of his real name and rocks the couch cushions with his boot-laden foot. “Get up, man. I got something to tell you, and I don’t want to have to stare at your ass while I’m saying it.”

  A bottle of Gatorade lands next to me as I push myself up to a sitting position. I swipe a hard hand down my face and stare at it for a second, my foggy brain wondering if it appeared there by magic. I look up at Banger, grunt some kind of thank you, and pour the sweet red fluid down my dry throat.

  “You’re losin’ it, dude. What is going on with you?”

  My oldest friend sits on the couch opposite me with his elbows resting on his knees. The beanie he always wears sits low on his forehead, and his scraggly blond hair jets out from underneath. He stares at me, waiting for an answer. When I don’t give one, he rolls his eyes and continues. “You are hitting rock bottom, man. This shit’s gotta stop.”

  “What shit? I’m a rock star, am I not? Partying comes with the territory.”

  I drain the Gatorade and chuck the bottle to the floor. The plastic makes a hollow sound when it connects with the hardwood and rolls over to the couch where Banger is sitting.

  His concerned glare pisses me off. Twenty years ago, I showed up on his doorstep, a scared, lonely boy seeking solace from my messed-up life and needing a place to crash. I’m a man now. The last thing I need is another father. The one I had was enough.

  “Partying?” Banger turns his head from side to side, surveying the messy room around us. “I don’t see a party, dude. I see a lonely guy drinking his blues away in the middle of the afternoon.”

  I feel my mouth curl into a sneer. “Did you come here just to fucking annoy me, man? If that’s the case, you can show yourself out.”

  Getting off the couch, I wave my hand in the direction of the door as I head toward the kitchen, catching my own reflection in the mirror across the way in the process. My skin is gray, and I haven’t shaved in a week. He’s right. I look like death warmed over.

  “I asked Jen to marry me.”

  “Congratulations. I hope you guys are very happy,” I grumble without breaking stride. I’m being a dick, I realize, but I’m not in the right state of mind to be happy for anyone right now. I feel like shit, and my mouth tastes like artificially flavored gym socks. Banger is getting his happy ending. Some guys get all the breaks.

  “Are you going to be able to dry out long enough to come out to New Jersey for this wedding or what?” That stops me in my tracks. Did he say New Jersey?

  “Come again?” I turn slowly, glaring at my friend.

  He stands up and crosses his tattoo-covered arms over his chest. “We’re getting married in Jen’s home state. You happen to know anyone special in New Jersey?” He arches his brow while chucking me the side eye. The skinny bastard is screwing with me. He knows as well as I do who lives in New Jersey.

  Her face materializes before my very eyes. Her doe eyes locked on mine with her plump bottom lip stuck between her teeth. I want to reach out and touch it, but I know it’s a mirage. A side effect from a broken heart and a drunken bender. If Ainsley could see me now, she’d be disgusted by me.

  “I need a best man. What do ya say? You ready for this?”

  My eyes snap up to his, and I’m suddenly sober as a judge. Hell yes, I’m ready for this. I’m going to go back to the East Coast and reclaim what’s mine.

  A smile spreads across my face for the first time in days. “When do we leave?”

  CHAPTER 18

  Ainsley

  JENNY’S FLIGHT SHOULD be landing any minute. I’m so excited to see her that I’m one step away from piddling on the floor like a Pomeranian. My eyes keep dropping to the watch on my wrist as if stalking the time is going to make it move any quicker.

  People from all walks of life come and go. I witness joyous greetings and tearful goodbyes, and I wonder where everyone is going or where they’ve been. I spend the time making up stories for them in my mind to appease my own curiosity.

  I’m lost in thought when a Barbie doll blond comes strutting through the crowd like she’s on a mission. Jenny’s pin-straight hair flies behind her as she pulls her rolling suitcase. She’s flawless in pink skinny jeans, a white V-neck tee, and her Gucci handbag dangling from the
crook of her elbow. “Ains-leyyyyyy!” Louboutin heels clack along the tile floor as she runs up to me, throwing her slender arms around my neck.

  “Oh, my gosh, I missed you so much! You look awesome! California really agrees with you!” I hug my friend and can feel the wetness in my eyes threatening to ruin my mascara. Pulling back, I stop to look at her again. Her face exudes happiness. She’s practically glowing.

  “So do you! I love your hair!” Last time we were face to face, my hair was a voluminous mop of bouncy curls in various shades of browns and honey. It’s still long, but darker now, and today it’s much sleeker. “That blond streak in the front is fierce!”

  The bags spin along the carousel as we watch them all go by. The black and pink cases finally emerge, and we snatch them off the belt then navigate the airport arm in arm.

  “So where to?” I ask after we load her bags in my Jeep Cherokee.

  “They are holding a dress for me at Kleinfeld’s. Let’s go there first!” Jenny slides her Prada sunglasses up her nose and climbs into the cab. She has always been stylish, but being in California has kicked that up a notch, turning her into a full-fledged fashionista.

  I pull out of the parking lot and maneuver around the airport’s winding roads toward New York City. “I can’t believe you’re throwing a wedding together in two months. Why the rush?” I weave in and out of the lanes, bypassing cars until the road opens up, allowing me to coast toward the exit ramp.

  Jenny snorts and plays with the radio. “Banger has his heart set on a Halloween wedding. Besides, I’m not getting any younger. It’s best to lock someone down before my tits hit the floor and my resting bitch face is no longer adorbs.”

  I snort, unable to argue with her logic. Jenny’s bluntness is probably what I miss most about her. She is straight up no bullshit, and you can’t help but respect her for it.

  She clicks through the presets and stops on her favorite rock station. A deep raunchy growl filters through the speakers, and the tortured wail of my name bellows out right behind it. My finger jabs the station control on the steering wheel before I can hear any more.

  The song is just another memory I can’t seem to escape. Every time I hear it, my heart catches in my throat. The agonizing way he grinds out my name hollows me out. He seems to spit it through clenched teeth when he’s not crying it out in anguish. It’s a contorted mix of desire and resentment that hangs me out to dry; a constant reminder that he offered me his heart, and I handed it back to him because I was too afraid to take it.

  Jenny pushes her sunglasses up on her head, creating a blond lion’s mane effect with her hair. “You can’t just pretend it didn’t happen. It wasn’t some insignificant fling. Not to him.”

  It wasn’t insignificant to me either. Things between us got hot and heavy really fast. Hot being the operative word. It was too intense, too passionate. I wasn’t ready to feel so much so quickly. I’m still not ready. “We had a good time. It ran its course.”

  “You’re deluding yourself. You weren’t there to see the panic in his eyes the morning he woke up and found out you were gone. It broke him, Ains.”

  That’s where she’s wrong. The painful memory seeps its way into my mind like venom. Clear as glass and just as sharp, living with it is my constant punishment for the way I behaved.

  My eyes stay trained on the road, hiding the overpowering feelings behind them from sight. Pushing him away was the hardest thing I’d ever had to do, but it was for the best. There’s no way intensity like that could have lasted, and once it fizzled, he would have only gotten bored of me. Losing him would not only have destroyed me but would have been too confusing for Shay. I can’t get her involved in my love life unless I know it’s forever. “Whatever we had was over before it started.”

  Jenny sighs and flips her shades back down. “So is Eric meeting us for dinner tonight or what? I need to put my stamp of approval on this new dude of yours before he makes an honest woman of you.”

  I cast a sidelong glance at my friend. “We are nowhere near that level in our relationship, but yes, he’ll be there, and you can meet him.”

  I’m nervous about what these next few months will mean for Eric and me. Eric is the epitome of the life I’ve worked so hard to achieve this last year. He’s artistic and peaceful; everything I should want in a companion. As a result, I’ve kept so many things hidden from sight, but bits and pieces of my past cling to the outskirts of my present like dust. As much as I would love to wipe it away, I can’t. It’s a piece of me. It’s the reason I am who I am, and I need that constant reminder in order to stay true to myself.

  Jenny’s wedding descended like a tornado, kicking things into its spinning cyclone that have laid dormant for all these months. Before long, I’ll be forced to face the demon that I’ve cast aside in order to create my new world. When that day comes, I’m unsure if my relationship with Eric will be strong enough to withstand it.

  ***

  The city streets buzz with life. Yellow cabs dot the concrete landscape and commuters walk briskly down the busy sidewalks, but I’m drowning in a sea of white organza as Jenny tries on her gown. The shop is busy for midday. Salespeople in nice suits move in and out of the tiny rooms carrying dresses of all sizes and colors. The smell of fresh flowers lingers in the air from the oversized arrangement in the corner.

  “Ains. You need to come in here. I can’t come out.” Jenny’s voice comes through the door of the dressing room, wavering like the ocean tide.

  “What do you mean, you can’t come out? Just open the door. Come on.”

  I hear shuffling inside the small dressing room. The swooshing of fabric and Jenny’s light footsteps make their way to the door, but it doesn’t open. “I’m in a wedding dress, Ainsley.”

  “Yeah, honey. I know. Now, come out so I can see you.” I pause for a beat, but she doesn’t emerge from the room. “Is something wrong with the dress? I’m sure they can fix it.”

  Her muffled voice is quiet, but I can hear the nerves wrapped around each word. “I’m getting married. Banger is going to be my husband. I’m in a friggin’ white gown. How did this happen?”

  “You and Banger are good together, and you’re going to live happily ever after. I promise.”

  “But how do you know?” The sound of her worry hurts my heart. I have no business making that promise. I don’t know. In fact, I’m living proof that there is no guarantee. I thought I’d found my happily ever after with Bob. My knight in shining armor turned out to be a turd wearing tinfoil.

  I lean against the door, pressing my hand to the white painted wood. I can hear her whimpering on the other side. “Well. I guess I don’t. Love is a gamble. Sometimes you win big, sometimes you don’t, but that shouldn’t stop you from wanting to play. You love him, right?”

  “More than I love myself,” she whispers.

  As the knob starts to turn, I step back to give my friend space to come out of the dressing room. The breath catches in my throat and tears fill my eyes as she comes fully into view. “Is it that bad?”

  Her green eyes are damp with unfallen tears, and her mouth is pulled into a thin line, but I’ve never seen Jenny look more beautiful than she looks standing in front of me right now. “You’re stunning.”

  She walks toward the three-angle mirror next to the dressing room to look at herself again. “You think he’ll like it?” She turns from side to side, smoothing out the material and checking it out as best she can.

  “He’s going to love it.”

  The dress is as elegant and unique as the woman wearing it is. The white satin clings to Jenny’s slim body like Saran Wrap. A chiffon overlay follows her slender curves from the sweetheart neckline all the way down and flows into a long train in the back. Black butterflies drift up from the bottom and appear ready to take flight off the sheer lightweight fabric as she moves.

  When she looks back at me, her Cheshire Cat smile returns. “I’m a sexy bitch!” A laugh bubbles up from my chest. That sad, unsure wom
an from a few minutes ago has vanished like a cloud of smoke, and the confident one I grew up with has returned full-force.

  Once upon a time, that was me on the opposite side of the dressing room door. Only I wasn’t nervous, despite Shay already growing like a tiny pea in my belly. I was so sure that Bob was the one. Perhaps that should have been my first clue that he wasn’t.

  ***

  Jenny is beaming over margaritas at Jose Tejas while we finalize the details for her upcoming wedding. “Banger and the guys should be coming in to meet us in two weeks. Are you sure you can’t stay at the hotel with us? It would be so much fun.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure. Shay will be doing a lot of shuffling back and forth between Bob and me, and I’d rather just sleep in my own bed.”

  I’m not being one-hundred percent honest. The truth is I don’t trust myself staying in a hotel so close to Kade again. I have no control over myself when I’m around him. His ability to rock my world with a single look was uncanny. How one tiny smile has such an effect on my lady parts, I have no idea, but one glimpse at his heart-stopping grin, and I’m a goner.

  The man is a friggin’ magician—every time he entered a room, my clothes disappeared.

  I glance at my watch. Eric will be here any minute. “Listen, Jen, there’s something I didn’t tell you about Eric.”

  A look of horror registers on her face. “Oh God, he doesn’t have, like, a lazy eye or something, does he?”

  “No, it’s nothing like that.” I laugh. “It’s just . . .” I trail off, trying to come up with the right words for my thoughts. “Eric doesn’t exactly know about my history with Kade.”

  Jenny’s eyebrows disappear behind her bangs. I feel my ears grow hot under her green-eyed glare. “What do you mean he doesn’t know? Was he living under a rock last summer?”

  She has a point. Black Diamond isn’t just some shoddy garage band. They are practically a household name. As a result, for a short time, so was I. Kade and I made big headlines over those three weeks we were together. Grainy images of Kade being shoved into a squad car while I watch in horror pop into my mind. The sickening sound of cracking bones and skin hitting broken tile and the penny smell of some guy’s blood on my face . . . I force myself to remember these things on purpose. I can’t allow the countless wonderful memories I have to overshadow his Jekyll and Hyde temperament.