by Scott, S. L.
By the time I reach where she and her sister were sitting, she’s gone. “Fuck.” Now that I give a fuck about. I look around but don’t see her. Fuck.
I drag the pillow beside me over my eyes. The one thing about being at Jet and Hannah’s is they understand the crazy hours. Blackout curtains keep the day outside while I try to figure out if dreaming of the night I met Meadow is a subliminal message or a symptom of being caught up in a woman who isn’t caught up in me. Desire versus logic.
I need to stop thinking about her, definitely stop dreaming of her, and let her figure her shit out while I figure out mine. C’mon, brain. Go back to sleep.
I grab my phone to look at the time. I didn’t get in until after one in the morning. Five hours isn’t enough. Rubbing over my face, the pricks of a week’s worth of stubble stabs the palms of my hands. Another thing to take care of when I get up.
Willing my body to relax, I focus on my muscles and sinking back into the mattress. My breathing deepens and steadies as green eyes return to haunt my dreams.
* * *
“Shit!” I jump a fuckin’ mile to the other side of the bed. Fuck. “What are you doing, Alfie?”
“Seeing who was in here?”
“You can’t just sneak up on people like that, especially when they’re sleeping.”
“Sorry, Ridge.”
I retrieve my thumping heart from the other side of the room and take a breath to calm down. “It’s fine—”
Hannah gasps from the doorway. “Oh my God. Alfie, what are you doing in here?”
“I wanted to know who was here,” he says so innocently while walking to her. “It’s Ridge. Did you know he was here?”
“Yes. I did. He got in late last night.” She holds a hand up to me while the other is over her mouth still in horror. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I say. “Hey Alf, I’ll be down soon, bud. Save me a seat for breakfast.”
He squeezes out around Hannah, who says, “I’m so sorry. I’ll talk with him.”
“Don’t worry. It’s his house, not mine.” I’m about to get up but wait just in case I have another morning visitor under the blanket. “I’m getting up. I’ll be down shortly.”
“I’ll have coffee ready.”
“I’m going to need it,” I reply, rubbing my eyes, trying to rid myself of the sleep that feels ingrained into my bones at this point in the tour.
“How’s your mom doing?”
“There was a lot going on, so I didn’t get to spend much time with her.”
“I’m sorry. Will you visit her again soon?”
“I think I should. Right now, everyone is swarming around, so she has no peace. No privacy.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I guess too many people caring about you is a good problem to have.”
She nods, sympathy in her eyes. “I’ll see you downstairs.”
The door closes, and I take a shower. After getting dressed, I run a hand through my hair. It’s getting long, starting to hang over my eyes. Since I’m too lazy to put goop in it to make it stay in place, I need to get it cut soon.
When I finally make my way downstairs, Jet is eating cereal at the table. “You look like shit,” he says.
“Back at ya, brother.” He does too. “Those late nights are catching up. Be careful or you’re going to lose your sex symbol status.”
He even laughs at that one. He also flips me off, but I’m good with it.
Glancing behind him, I see Hannah bouncing the baby on her knees on the back patio. “My wife can’t keep her hands off me, so I’m okay with looking like shit if she likes the way I look.”
“And here I thought a baby would slow things down in the sex department.”
“Maybe it does for some,” he muses, running a hand over his head. His hair’s growing out too.
I walk past him. “TMI, and we both look like shit. What is it called when chicks talk about taking care of themselves?”
Jet lowers his voice, and says, “Masturbation.”
“No, and don’t ever talk to me about that,” I reply, disgust scrunching my nose. “When women say they need a bath and—”
The door closes behind me. Coming inside, Hannah says, “Self-care?”
“Yeah,” I reply, snapping my fingers. “That’s it. We need some self-care.”
“I thought that’s why we got married?” Tulsa asks, coming in the front door.
“Not what we’re talking about,” I say. Slapping our hands together, we do a slow slide back and wiggle our fingers. We both laugh, having perfected the handshake. Rubbing my hand over my head, I look up when I see my bangs flying over my forehead. “Shaggy. I need a haircut. Your brother does, too.”
Tulsa rubs over his short hair. It’s longer than a military induction cut but not by much. “Nikki shaved mine. I was willing to take it all off. She put her foot down.”
“Because she owns your ass.”
With a tight mouth and no fight in him, he nods. “Truth, man. Truth.”
I move from the breakfast room into the kitchen where Hannah is pulling a mug from the cabinet with Violet bundled around her. “Here you go.”
Moving to give her a hug, she wraps her arms around my middle, and whispers, “How are you doing?”
“I’m good.” Moving to the side, I bend down until I’m eye level with Violet, who’s cooing with a big smile and bright eyes. “Who’s a little lady? Who’s the cutest baby?” When I scrunch my face, she giggles.
“She likes you,” Hannah says, leaning against the counter next to me.
“I like her.” I tap Violet on the nose. Jet and Tulsa walk away, so I take the opportunity to catch up with my friend.
Standing back up, I nudge Hannah. I feel like every time I see her, she looks happier than the time before if that’s possible. And although I’m no baby expert, Hannah and Jet’s baby is the cutest I’ve ever seen. Dark hair, almost jet-black like her daddy and blue eyes like her mama. “She smiles a lot. She has your disposition.”
“She’s a happy baby. She has a dad who can’t get enough of her and a brother that tells anyone who will listen that his best friend likes too much pink.” Leaning in conspiratorially, she says, “Sometimes when he comes home from the road, I catch him waking Violet up in the night just to spend a few extra hours with her. She always gives it away the next day when she’s cranky, but it’s so sweet that I don’t say anything.”
Remembering last night when he stopped by, I ask, “Does he know you know?”
“No. I don’t want him to ever stop having those moments that are just his. We can make up for the lost sleep with naps.”
Wrapping an arm around Hannah’s shoulders, we admire her baby together. “And a mom who anyone would be lucky to have.”
Teasing, she double taps my ribs with her elbow. “Look at you being all charming.”
“What?” I shrug, taking the mug to the coffee machine. “I’m always charming.”
“Speaking of charming, did you spend any time with a certain someone while you were in Austin?”
One day I’ll learn to control my instant reactions to certain topics. Today is not that day. She must pick up on something because she says, “That good, huh?”
“Worse.”
“I’m sorry.”
I laugh. “You don’t have to be sorry about anything. Not my mom and not my—”
“Not your love life?”
“Love is a little strong.”
Looking around as if part of a covert operation, she leans in, covers Violet’s ears, and whispers, “Sex life?”
“No, not doing this with you.”
“You can talk to Jet if you’d feel more comfortable.”
Now I just laugh and keep laughing because this has gotten so out of hand I’m not sure where to go with it.
Fortunately, like his guitar playing skills, Jet has perfect timing when he comes around the corner. Jet is every bit the rock star. Cool demeanor. Owns a room with his mere
presence. By the way Hannah spoke of his appearance when they first started dating, he’s apparently “drool-worthy.”
He’s not much older than me, having me beat only by a year, but our lives couldn’t be more different. First of all, he married my best friend. Now I don’t get to see her as much. Before that, they fought for custody of his son, Alfie. It’s all a jumble now. But to top off their year of greatness, baby Violet came along.
Hannah and I have been through a lot together. Her asshole ex, my former best friend and the lead singer of our band, was fucking my girlfriend while we all toured. We gave some damn good years up to those losers but found each other along the way. We may be close, but we never hooked up, valuing the friendship we found.
Jet’s eyes come alive when he sees his wife. Stopping to kiss his baby on the way, he’s gentle with Hannah, touching her face before kissing her. There’s no lack of love in this house, and Hannah deserves it. He’s not in a hurry or worried about the days ticking by too fast. He takes his time because he has that on his side. Lucky bastard.
Turning to me, he says, “Rivers is here. We’re going down to the studio,” and then leaves.
“Kay.”
When the coast is clear, Hannah says, “I’m not telling you anything you don’t know already, but it’s not always easy even if it’s meant to be. Jet and I are prime examples of that. We had to fight to be together. Sometimes it just comes down to who’s willing to go the extra mile.”
Thinking about all the couples who surround me these days, no one had it easy. Maybe Tulsa and Nikki, but I feel like they went through some stuff that we’re not all aware of. “I used to think it was supposed to be easier if it’s meant to be.”
“Sometimes, I guess. Everyone’s different. I don’t think you should force anything. If the attraction is there, the relationship will hopefully come naturally.”
I push off the counter and touch Violet’s tiny toes because they’re so friggin’ small. “If I keep talking about my feelings all the time, shut me up. I’m tired of myself at this point.”
“Talking’s not bad. Lack of action is.”
“Okay. Okay. Got it. If I love her, don’t let her slip away.”
Her mouth falls open. “You love her? You love Meadow?”
“What? No. I said like. Wait, I didn’t say anything about Meadow.”
She’s still staring at me—silently, so I start rambling to fill in the blanks of what I guess she’s thinking. “I do like Meadow, but that’s it. We’re not anything.”
Still nothing from her. She shifts the fabric and adjusts Violet onto her hip. Violet seems to want something else and fusses. Hannah strokes her head and then kisses her, calming her instantly. The magic of a mom kiss. Her attention comes back to me. “You said love, Dave.”
My hands fly up. “I haven’t even had coffee yet. My brain’s not functioning properly. I thought we were talking in generalities.”
“That you’re talking about love at all says a lot, so you can play this off however you want, but unlike your brain, your heart is fully functioning.”
I roll my eyes. The little action reminds me of Meadow, and I smile. Shit. Do I love Meadow Fellowes? How is that possible? We basically ended it last night . . . not basically. She’s frustrating to no end, indecisive when it comes to what she wants—from her food orders to her clothes. She’s all over the place, deciding things on whims and spur-of-the-moment emotions. She’s also fifteen hundred miles away.
Nothing about us makes sense.
Love? That’s not possible. “Nope. Nope. Nope.”
Hannah’s brow is pinched in the center, so I assume I sound as nutty as I feel. Fuck. “Forget I said anything. I need to head down to the studio.” She’s not saying what she’s really thinking, but I can read it all over her face, so I add, “You can stop smiling like a fool now.”
“What can I say? I’m a fool for a great love story.”
Although I don’t give Hannah any satisfaction on the topic, I can admit, I’m also a sucker for a happy ever after. But in this instance, where I’ve been offered a haven and not a future, I’m not sure it’s in the cards for Meadow and me. Given how I’d do anything for her, though, maybe that’s what love is.
Considering I removed the options from the dating table last night, I think it’s best if I let things lie. Not forever, but for now.
15
Ridge
“Married. Married. Married. Single.” The DJ points to each of us like we’re playing a game of duck, duck, goose.
Rivers says, “I’m engaged.”
The rest of us know it’s going to happen before it does. The radio DJ leans on her hand, making eyes at him. “So there’s a chance for the right woman to come along and steal your heart before you walk down that aisle?”
I’m fucking offended for him. He should have never spoken up, drawing her attention to his personal life. Tulsa is the comedian in the group, always there with a smile and joke to cheer everyone up, so it comes as a surprise to hear him use an unfamiliar firm, slightly raised voice when he says, “He’s marrying the right woman, the woman who already owns the ring. The marriage is tradition and legalities, but trust me, my brother’s already married in all the ways that matter.”
She seems a bit taken aback by his tone. “I didn’t mean to imply—”
Jet sighs. “We know what you meant to imply, but you also disrespected his fiancée.”
“He’s engaged but not married. Noted for the listeners. Another Crow bites the dust.” Tapping the desk, she adds, “Thanks for being here, guys.”
Her headphones are dumped on the desk, and she says, “Our listeners like the single rock star angle, so we pursue it when we can. I’m married, but no one knows. It doesn’t jive with the persona. It’s all in fun.”
No, it’s not okay. No placating or making her feel better. She crossed a line, but it’s admirable how the brothers not only stand up for each other but everyone who’s important to them, their wives and kids the most.
When the DJ leaves the sound booth, Rivers hits my chest. “How’d you manage to dodge that bullet? You’re the actual single one here.”
“I lay low, and my last name’s not Crow.”
“Lucky fucker. Stella’s gonna be pissed when she hears that shit.”
When we walk out of the room, Rochelle is waiting. “I don’t care if she is married. She crossed a line and can fuck off.”
Jet laughs. “Tell us how you really feel.”
“I’ve been in this business a long time.” Her hands go out to stop us, and she lowers her voice so no one else can hear her. “Being on this side of a relationship with someone famous has taught me that people are unscrupulous when it comes to their personal pursuits. I wear a Teflon suit most days, but when I think of Stella, I remember being in her shoes. This life, being in the spotlight because she fell in love with someone who’s famous, is hard. Just remember every time someone disrespects your family, they disrespect you.” She starts walking, and we follow in silence.
I think half from fear. Half from wanting to hear her.
She’s fired up.
Rochelle’s a little thing, similar to Meadow. Both come up about yay high to me, but you don’t fuck with them when they’re mad. Rochelle stops again before we reach reception, right in front of the station manager’s open office door. “She’ll know better than to mess with your families next time. That level of disrespect will not be tolerated.” She follows with a rub to her right temple.
The door opens, and the radio’s general manager spends the next ten minutes explaining how that program goes down with listeners.
Excuses.
That Rochelle sees right through. These guys have lost any future rights to us now. And they know it.
Rochelle respectfully explains that we were here to promote an album, not our personal lives. When she left, we left.
In the parking garage, she carries her purse but has her phone held firmly in the other. “Great
show. You’re done for the day.”
Our business manager kicks every other business manager’s ass in the music industry. No wonder The Resistance listens to everything she says. That, or they’re afraid to piss her off as well.
* * *
With my head resting back, I stare up at the wood beams running across the white wood ceiling. Hannah flops down next to me on the couch. “What has you so deep in thought?”
I spread my arm wide on the back of the couch behind her and bring her to my side just as Jet walks by. “Hey. Hey. My wife is my life. Hands off.”
Holding up my hands in surrender, I laugh. “I saw her first.”
“I married her. I’m not going to say first because we’re forever. Right, baby?” He sets five beers and a Yoo-Hoo down on the table between us.
Hannah replies, “Forever with you.”
Sitting down, Jet looks up as Tulsa and Nikki come from the backyard. Nikki carries the baby to Hannah, and says, “I want one just like Violet. I love her.”
Last year, Tulsa would have broken out in a bad rash of commitment-phobia, but since he met Nikki, he seems to have calmed in so many ways. He still has a big and very loud personality, but he doesn’t even bat an eye when he hears his wife talk about having a baby. Interesting.
Jet stands. “I’ll take her. I’m trying to force Hannah to take a night off. I’m even trying to tempt her with a beer.”
I bump into Hannah, and whisper, “Take a night off.”
“I’ll take an hour or two off, but no beer for me. I’m still breastfeeding.”
“I know we’re best friends, but that’s a little much for me.”
When she laughs, she lights up the whole room. Even though we’re all exhausted from the day of interviews, it’s hard to be grumpy around her. Despite my best efforts, I find myself smiling. I knew whoever won her heart would score in life. “He’s lucky to have you.”
“I’m the lucky one.” Her eyes never leave Jet as he sits down again with the baby, making her appear smaller in his arms. He’s a big dude. Not that I’m small at six foot two, but damn, those Crow brothers are big.