by Abby Jimenez
“Who the fuck gave you this address? I don’t want you here. I’m done. Move or I’ll move you myself.”
Her eyes glinted and she shook her head.
Hot anger built inside me. I was so fucking sick of this. Sick of it.
I’d been more than patient up to this point. I’d been a damn saint while she harassed me for months on end and dragged my reputation and my privacy through the music charts—but this was something else. Now I had to consider Sloan.
What if she had come home with me? Or shown up like she did last night? How would I even explain this shit? We were too new for this.
And what would Lola have done if Sloan had been here…
My jaw clenched. “I want you out of here. Let’s go.” I took her by the elbow and pulled her to her feet. I just wanted to get her out of my way so I could go inside, but I could feel the wobble of her body from the grip I had, and I knew that if I let go, she’d fall. Jesus, she was a fucking mess.
I nodded to the Hummer I’d seen parked outside the gate. “Call your chaperone to come get you.”
She chuckled mirthlessly. “Awwwwww, are you mad at me?”
“You wrote a fucking song about me,” I snapped. “What were you thinking? Were you trying to ruin my damn career? I have an image to maintain and you wrote me naked and drunk on a fucking beach!”
She grinned lazily, drawing again on her joint with her eyes closed, her bracelets clinking down her wrist. “Well, you inspire me, Minnesota. Never had something so clean before…” she slurred.
I shook my head at her. “I don’t know what the fuck happened to you. I don’t know what your fascination is with me, what you’re on, or what your problem is, but I wish you’d figure it out and leave me the hell alone.”
She blew her smoke sideways and smiled like a cobra. “So we’re not doing this, huh?”
My nostrils flared. “No, we’re not.”
“You’re something else, Jaxon. You snapped your fingers and I came all the way over here…” She dragged her eyes down my body and stared at my dick. “At least let me do that thing you like.” She looked back up and sucked her bottom lip into her mouth.
I glared at her. “Don’t ever come here again. Do you understand me?”
She smirked and yanked her arm down. The second I let go of her she teetered in her heels like a baby deer. She lost her balance and tumbled backward onto the lawn, laughing. I could see her bodyguard making his way up the drive, right on cue. She was cackling and giving me the finger when I scaled the metal steps with Tucker and slammed the door behind me. Two loud thumps that I guessed were shoes hit the side of the trailer.
I called Ernie. He answered groggily on the third ring. “If you’re calling me with a cop car parked behind you, I’m going to need you to swallow the drugs,” he joked.
“Lola was just in the yard.”
He groaned. “Ah, shit. Give me five minutes.”
By the time Ernie met me outside, Lola was gone. Her stilettos sat abandoned on the grass.
“I checked the security cameras,” he said, meeting me by the pool in boxers and an open robe. “She used the gate code to get in. I don’t suppose you gave that to her.”
“No, I didn’t. I also didn’t tell her where I live,” I said, dragging a hand down my mouth.
He blew a breath through his nose and looked around the yard. “Well, I can reset the code. That’s not a big deal. But we have bigger problems. You’re not gonna be happy.” His eyes came back to me.
“What?”
He took a deep breath. “Due to the substantial financial commitment that your label is now making for your international tour, they would like to bring in another headliner. It’s pretty standard. I’ve seen this before. It’s not a lack of faith, it’s more of an insurance policy to make sure they don’t lose their fucking shirt.”
“Okay…”
“They want to bring in Lola.”
I dropped my arms. “No. Absolutely not.”
“They like the tie-in. You’ve got three potentially hit singles with her on the soundtrack. They want you mainstream and Lola is as commercial as they come, so attaching you to her is beneficial. And say what you will about her, but everything she fucking touches turns to gold. And Jason, she wants it. She wants it bad. In fact, I think it was her idea.”
There was no fucking way. It would be a shit show. Lola was a disaster. She’d be plastered the whole time, I’d be scraping her off the floor and propping her up on stage, peeling her off me like duct tape. “I’m not doing it.”
“Yeah, well, I thought you might say that. I did what I thought you’d want me to do, which was to tell them to go to hell in the nicest way possible. I said if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. Your US tour dates are selling out nicely and you don’t need the help. And I made a point that Lola’s a hot fucking mess and she’s one overdose from a ninety-day stint in rehab.”
I nodded. “Good. What did they say?”
“They thanked me for my feedback and said they’d take it into consideration.”
I stared at him. “Can they do this?”
“They can do whatever the fuck they want. They’re paying for it. This is just like the fog machine and the fucking pyrotechnics. It’s their call.”
I raked a hand through my hair. “No.” I looked him in the eye. “If they dump her on me, I’m out.”
“So now comes the fun part.” Ernie ticked off on his fingers. “You walk, and they sue you for breach of contract. You have to pay back your advances, plus their expenses, plus any projected revenue from the tour. The damages will be in the millions. These guys don’t fuck around. You could have a kid in the hospital and they’d expect you to be there, onstage as scheduled. Barring a mental fucking breakdown or a life-threating illness, you’ll be there. Even in a coma you might be there. They’re not above operating you like a puppet with their hand up your ass.” He dipped his head to look at me. “And the icing on the bullshit cake? If you do manage to get a tour canceled for anything less than some medical emergency, you can kiss your fucking career goodbye because nobody’s going to touch you after that.”
I felt the color drain from my face.
“I don’t understand,” I breathed. “I don’t fucking get why she’s pushing this. Why me?”
He scoffed. “You’re probably the only guy who didn’t do lines off her ass and smack her around before he fucked her. She’s gotta tour with somebody, so why not the guy who held doors for her?” He shook his head. “We are between a rock and a hard place, my friend. I gotta tell you, if you would have asked me a month ago who the worst person to bring on tour is, I’d have said a girlfriend. But Lola? She’s my fucking tour nightmare. You see the shit in the tabloids this morning? She threw a beer bottle at a photog’s head. She’s like a rampaging hybrid of all my ex-wives, on cocaine.”
Sloan.
A cloud of doom rolled over me as I realized for the first time just how far-reaching this was.
I wouldn’t be able to bring Sloan on tour. I wouldn’t even be able to fly her out to visit. It would be uncomfortable for her at best. At worst it would be downright dangerous. Lola had a history of instability and violence and some weird fucking fixation on me. Who knew what she’d do? Even locked gates couldn’t keep her out. Even if I got Sloan a bodyguard, I couldn’t guarantee Lola wouldn’t get to her with more than a year of close proximity to try. Hell, Kanye had bodyguards too and a lot of good that had done. Not to mention all the lewd shit I knew she’d throw at my girlfriend just to piss me off. I couldn’t subject her to it.
Fourteen months. Fourteen fucking months of Lola, without Sloan.
“What if I get a restraining order?” I asked, clutching at straws. “They can’t force her on my tour if she can’t get within a hundred feet of me.”
He scoffed. “For what? Throwing stripper shoes at your trailer? Mentioning you on Twitter? Has she made any threats? Hurt you in any way?” Ernie put a hand on my shoulder. “Look, I don�
�t want you climbing a ledge yet. I’m working on it. I’ll get the lawyers involved if I have to. I didn’t even plan on telling you until I had a definitive answer, but with this shit…”
“Fuck. No wonder she showed up here.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. She’d probably hoped for some happy reunion between us, so I wouldn’t fight it when I found out what she was trying to do.
But I would fight it. I would do everything in my power to make sure this didn’t happen. Because if it did, it might cost me Sloan.
Chapter 20
Jason
♪ Superposition | Young the Giant
My feet were back on Minnesota soil for the first time since Christmas. I loved that Sloan had come home with me. Despite the shitty night I’d had, compliments of Lola, I hadn’t stopped smiling all day. I was irritable right until I picked Sloan up and she bounced into my arms.
We walked with Tucker to the rental car counter at the tiny airport in Duluth. Sloan laughed at the single luggage carousel.
“So where is Minneapolis from here?” she asked, leaning down to pet Tucker. He sat pressed against her leg, looking up at her.
“The Twin Cities are two and a half hours south.”
“And we’re going…”
“Two hours north. Let me show you.” I pulled out my phone and brought up Google Maps. “Right now we’re here. And here’s Ely.”
She leaned over and I caught a flurry of her perfume as her shoulder pressed into my arm. Something seemed to activate between us. She turned her face slightly in my direction, her eyes moving to my lips, and I felt the same pull that had almost dragged us under last night tug me toward her again.
Sloan was moving slower in this relationship than I was. I didn’t take it personally. I meant what I said: I’d wait for her. I’d wait as long as she needed. When she was ready, she’d let me know. And if I was doing my job as her boyfriend, making her feel safe—and making sure she wanted me enough—it would all work itself out eventually. There was no rush.
This was just a season, and there’s beauty in all seasons. Even if you are looking forward to the next one.
“It’s surrounded by so much green,” she said, clearing her throat, and we both seemed to snap from our daze.
“It’s on the edge of the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness.”
“And you go in there?”
“I grew up in there,” I said, tucking my phone back into my pocket.
She looked up at me with those deep-brown eyes and put her hands on my chest. “Thank you for bringing me.” She stood on her toes and gave me a quick kiss.
When we broke away, she nuzzled her nose to mine. “And you’re sure your parents are okay with me coming?” she asked again.
“Absolutely. My mom has probably been cleaning and recleaning the house in anticipation of your arrival. You’re the first girlfriend I’ve brought home since prom.”
She jerked her head back and stared at me for a second. “Please tell me that’s a joke.”
“I haven’t brought a girl home in ten years.”
Panic washed across her face and she wriggled out of my arms. “Why?!”
“Uh, because I haven’t had one worth bringing?” I smiled. Flustering her was becoming one of my favorite hobbies. I totally got why Kristen did it. Sloan was so beautiful when she was blushing and biting her lip.
“But…you’ve had serious girlfriends. What about the one that you dated for three years?”
“Jessica? Yeah. That was my prom date.”
“Jason!”
“What?” I laughed.
“What the hell? This is not what you sold me on!”
I chuckled and put my hands on her arms. “They’re going to love you.”
She put a finger to her eyelid and looked at me bleakly.
I shook my head at her. “You would make the worst poker player, you know that, right?”
“Jason, you made this sound like it’s not that big of a deal.”
“Would you have come if I’d told you the truth?”
“No.”
“Well, then.”
She glared at me.
“Would you prefer that you’re just one in a long line of women that I’ve brought home?”
She narrowed her lone eye at me. “No.”
“Well, then,” I said again, proving my point.
She took her finger from her eyelid and hugged her arms around herself. “What if they don’t like me?”
Impossible.
I tipped up her chin. “There’s a very real possibility that they’ll like you better than they like me.”
Mom was flipping out. Not just because Sloan was The Huntsman’s Wife, but because I didn’t bring women home as a rule.
And bringing Sloan home meant exactly what Mom thought it did.
Chapter 21
Sloan
♪ White Winter Hymnal | Fleet Foxes
Jason had his playlist on the Bluetooth of our rental SUV. On the plane we’d shared his headphones, each of us wearing an earbud so we could listen and still talk to each other. We’d had our foreheads together the whole time. I think I’d learned every fleck in his irises on that flight.
Jason looked at me from behind the wheel. “So just to warn you, my mom’s going to put us in separate rooms. She’s kind of old-fashioned.”
“Wise woman.” It was probably safest to keep us separated, especially after last night.
“We could always get a hotel room,” he suggested, giving me a wicked sideways glance. “Everyone does keep telling us to get one.”
My cheeks heated.
I could count the number of men I’d slept with on one hand and have fingers to spare. And the last person on my list had been the only man I’d planned on sleeping with ever again. Even though absolutely nothing had felt wrong about what happened between Jason and me last night, Brandon’s memory had been just enough of a buzzkill to pull me from the moment.
But I doubted I’d hesitate again.
Jason was slowly edging out all the things that froze me in time. He was thawing me from my nuclear winter from the outside in—and he was almost to my core.
He smiled at the road and I admired his profile from the side. The lines that creased at the corners of his eyes, the slope of his nose, a small freckle on his cheek, a square jaw and closely trimmed beard with its flecks of red, his Adam’s apple.
My eyes followed his neck down to his arm. I took in the muscles of his biceps, then the hair on his forearm, his hand on the wheel. I thought of how his voice sounded when he sang, the way the calluses from his guitar felt on my bare skin, and how much talent was in those fingers. Those hands wanted to touch me.
No, next time nothing would stop me.
“This is Ely.” His whole face lit up as we began to drive through the small town.
God, I wish I could be that excited to come home.
Mom had sold the house I grew up in years ago, after the divorce, and moved to a one-bedroom apartment with her new husband. Dad lived in San Diego with his new wife. I was an only child. Brandon’s family and I drifted apart after he died. I was still friends with his sister, Claudia, on Instagram, but we hadn’t seen each other since the funeral. Kristen was the closest thing I had to a sibling. It must be so great to be able to come home like Jason was.
The two-lane road ran right through the heart of the town. Restaurants and shops peppered the street on both sides. No Starbucks, but I could manage without it for three days.
We passed Jason’s family’s business and he pointed it out as we drove by. The building was cute. It was a log house with Ely Outfitting Company on the side. They’d used a canoe as a flower box under the window, and the railing on the steps was made from paddles.
We kept going fifteen more minutes beyond the town and turned down a one-lane dirt road with a mailbox at the entrance.
I craned my neck to see the house as it came into view. There wasn’t another home in sight and there hadn’t been for
most of the drive since we left the edge of town. The single-story log house was nestled in the woods, surrounded by forest so thick I couldn’t see the other side of it. The roof was green over honey-colored logs, and a porch with log banisters ran the length of the front. The smell of burning firewood filled the crisp air.
Jason parked and came around to meet me as I unbuckled myself.
“You ready?” he asked as I got out of the car. He stood with his hand on the top of the SUV, barring my exit from behind my open door. “I’m going to need one last good kiss from you. We might not get another chance until we leave on Sunday. I have a feeling we won’t get much time alone.” He smiled at my mouth.
“Oh, I wondered why you had me cornered here. You’re saying goodbye to me for a few days.”
“I’m only saying goodbye to your lips.”
The passenger side of the SUV blocked us from the view of the house, so I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him, smiling against his mouth. Then a booming voice broke into our private moment. “Hey! Get a room, asshole!”
Jason shut his eyes and grinned. “Fuck.”
I turned around and looked through the windows of the car to see a man coming our way.
“David’s here,” Jason said, smiling.
Jason met his brother in front of the SUV. The burly, flannel-clad man held a bundle of firewood. He dropped it and gave Jason a hug as Tucker jumped up and down at their feet.
David looked to be around thirty, and he outweighed Jason by an easy fifty pounds. He was tall and bearded, like his brother, and looked exactly like a lumberjack. All he needed was suspenders.
“Look at you, you Hollywood big shot,” David said, holding Jason away from him. “California turned you into a suit. Is that a fucking spray tan?”
“I can’t believe Karen let you out this weekend. Did you barter your balls for your freedom?” Jason replied with a grin.
“Ahh, fuck you,” David said, good-naturedly. Then he looked at me. “You must be Sloan. Nice to meet you.” He put out a hand and gave me a firm shake. “This guy said he had a girlfriend. Of course, nobody believed it. Looks like I just lost fifty bucks at the office.” He slapped Jason on the back. “So what’s a beautiful thing like you doing with someone who won the Ugliest Man in Ely contest three years in a row?”