Crash and Burn (Love You Like A Love Song #1)

by Michele Callahan

  She had to go to L.A. because she needed that signing bonus to help take care of her brother.

  She turned to Chance, who was seated in one of the round leather chairs, his arms settled along the circular armrests. “You can go home now.”

  “What? You want me to drive you home?” He leaned forward, almost eager. He probably hated being here. Hated feeling helpless. She knew the feeling well, and she could relieve him of it.

  “No. I called Todd. He’s on his way. Mel packed a bag for me and they’re bringing it here. You can go home now. I’ll be fine on my own. I leave tomorrow anyway.”

  Chance stood and she could see the light dawning in his eyes. “You’re doing this here? Now?”

  She crossed her arms, determined to be strong. “Yes. It’s for the best, Chance. We both knew this was only temporary. I’ll be here, at the hospital, until I leave anyway. We won’t be able to be together.”

  “Bullshit, Erin. You’ll be back in a few days. We have three weeks.”

  “No. We don’t.” He stood and took a step toward her, but she held up her hand, palm out, and he stopped. “You’re right, I have to go to L.A. And I will.”

  She took a step and closed the distance between them, lifted herself up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. “But I can’t…I can’t have this hanging over my head.”

  “What?”

  “Us. This. The inevitable end.”

  He grabbed her hand and held it to his chest. “We don’t have to end it.”

  She laughed, and tears sounded behind the pathetic outburst. “Right. Now you’re just lying to yourself, and to me.” She twisted her wrist and yanked her hand free. She didn’t want to get dirty, but the hurt, street-smart kid had come back up to play, and she played rough. “We don’t fit, Chance. I’m leaving. I’ll be touring all over the world, never home. I’ll be doing show after show in city after city. I’ll be like a ghost, always moving. Never in the same city more than a couple days at a time.”

  “We can make it work. At least give it a try.”

  “No. I know you.”

  His eyes glazed with anger. “We’ve been together for less than two weeks. You don’t know shit.”

  She smiled, and knew the curve of her lips was sad. “You touched me, Chance. You made me forget who I was when you touched me. You made me dream. But, dreamtime is over. I know you.” She reached up and ran her hand along his cheek, unable to resist touching him one more time. “I know you. And this life, my life, isn’t what you had planned for yourself.

  “You need a wife who will be here to take care of you. You deserve a woman who can love you completely, who will put you ahead of her career. You want a family, and stability, and the corner office, and you’ve worked hard to get it. You’ve earned it.

  “You want to drink a beer with your brothers every now and then. You have a life here, Chance. You need to live it. You deserve to have it all and I can’t give it to you.”

  His eyes drifted closed and he covered her hand with his. “I think I’m in falling for you, Erin.”

  Pain. She closed her eyes and swallowed the pain down in great gulps. “We both know that sometimes that’s just not enough.”

  She kissed him, one last time, a soft press of her lips to his. She tasted her own tears and recognized the salty tang of goodbye.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chance pushed back and the wheels of his new leather office chair rolled as he drifted away from his desk and across the floor with smooth efficiency. But he didn’t get up. No, he turned to stare out over the mountains that rose majestically in the distance. Erin was in California, right now. On the other side of those damn mountains.

  Even the view from his new office couldn’t calm the unsettled ache in his chest, an uncomfortable tension that hadn’t left him since he’d walked away from the only woman he’d ever loved. But he’d had no choice. Erin was a shooting star, and he wasn’t going to ask her to give up her future for a boring life here, with him.

  No, they were both exactly where they were supposed to be, Erin, in L.A., getting ready to open at her first concert, and him, in his new office, with a new legal assistant sitting at her desk just outside the door. His legal assistant was pushing sixty, typed well over a hundred words a minute, and had probably forgotten more about legal proceedings than he’d learned in law school. She was highly intelligent and took no bullshit.

  He’d asked for her, when they’d offered him the partnership. He’d asked for all of it, his assistant, this office, this view.

  This fucking life. He’d wanted it all, but instead of triumph, the new surroundings reminded him of Erin’s words. “I know you… You want a family, and stability, and the corner office…”

  A sharp knock came on his closed office door, but before he could answer, Derek, Jake and Mitchell invaded his personal space like a tidal wave of over-eager toddlers. Even Derek was grinning as Jake closed the door behind them.

  “What’s going on?” Chance rose to his feet, but Jake walked behind Chance’s chair and shoved down on his shoulder, forced him back onto his ass as his little brother laughed.

  “Sit down, idiot.”

  “What the hell is this?” Chance looked to Mitchell, who plopped down in one of his client chairs across the desk and picked up the paperweight, tossing it back and forth in his hands like it was a baseball, not a large piece of marble.

  “What’s it look like? You need help, little bro.”

  What? He was confused. “Help with what?”

  “Pulling your head out of your ass.” Derek walked around and sat on the edge of his desk, just to annoy the shit out of him. Chance had always hated that.

  “Get off my desk.”

  Derek ignored him and Jake walked to the hanger on the back of the door to grab Chance’s dark suit jacket. Without explanation, he tossed it over the desk straight at Chance’s head. Quick reflexes spared him a full assault, but now all three of his brothers were staring him down with their arms crossed.

  “What?”

  Mitchell smirked. “Told you, Derek. Might need to have his head surgically removed. It’s shoved so far up his ass he probably hasn’t seen the sun in days.”

  “I’ll hold him down,” Jake offered.

  Mitchell and Jake weren’t going to give him a clue, so Chance turned to the oldest in desperation. “What the hell is going on? Seriously? What are you guys doing here?”

  Derek stared him down. “This is what is commonly referred to as an intervention.”

  Chance leaned back in his chair, still not sure what the hell was happening, but willing to play along. “Mine?”

  “Yep.” Derek pulled a cigarette out of his black leather jacket and popped it into his mouth, unlit.

  “I thought you quit.”

  “I did. But sometimes, when I have to deal with one of you idiots, it helps calm the beast.” Derek tapped the pocket where the rest of the pack of cigarettes remained. “This is all that stands between you and a colossal ass kicking.”

  “Wrong. He already had his ass kicked. Still hasn’t recovered.” Mitchell set the black-and-gray marble back on the top of a stack of papers, and reached for a letter opener. God knew what he was going to do with that.

  “True,” Jake agreed with Mitchell, and Chance thought they had all lost their minds.

  “Are you guys drunk? Because you didn’t invite me to the party, and it’s not even lunchtime yet.”

  Derek shifted his weight so he could pull a business-sized white envelope out of his back pocket. He tossed it onto the desk in front of Chance. No writing. No clue as to what was inside.

  “What is this?”

  “Just fucking open it and don’t argue with us. We took a vote and decided that if you didn’t go quietly, we were going to drug you and ship your ass out there anyway.”

  “Where?”

  “California, dumb ass. Erin’s show starts in eleven hours.” Mitchell used the letter opener to stab holes through a random piece
of paper and Chance grabbed it out of his hands. Luckily, it was just his handwritten notes on a case, and not a court document.

  Derek grabbed the letter opener. “Stop acting like a four-year-old.”

  Mitchell grinned, and reached for a pen. “But that was one of my best years.”

  Chance kicked at him under the desk. “That’s because little Ashley Rodgers was in your preschool class.”

  Mitchell closed his eyes, leaned back and smiled. “She’s still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

  “You just liked the tutus.” Jake laughed.

  “And the tights.” Mitchell opened his eyes and tapped the pen against the edge of Chance’s desk. “And her little pink tiara.”

  “I can’t believe her mother let her come to school dressed like that.” Chance lifted the envelope from his desk and opened it to find a boarding pass with his name on it, hotel reservations, and a ticket with a backstage pass to Erin’s concert. He lifted his gaze to find Derek studying him. “How did you get these?”

  Derek crossed his arms. “Easy. A credit card, the internet, and a call to my friend, Axel Thomas.”

  “How the hell do you know about him?”

  “Pay attention, retard. I told you, I built a bike for him last year. Wesley Shipton is his business partner. Shipton Records? Ring a bell?” Derek shrugged and took a drag of air through the unlit cigarette before pulling it out of his mouth and tossing it in the trashcan under Chance’s desk. With Derek’s long black hair and biker clothes, he looked like a walking bad boy cliché. Talked like one, too. “But believe me, he’s not going to cry if you don’t show.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “His friend, Shipton, has a thing for Erin. He wants her in his bed.”

  “And he told you this?” Something dark stirred to life inside Chance, rage or panic, he couldn’t decide which. He’d never considered murder, but the thought of that asshole touching Erin made his head feel like it was about to explode.

  Derek shrugged. “Basically, yeah.” Derek crossed his arms over his chest and glared. “Just know that Wes Shipton’s not going to wait around for you to get your head out of your ass. Based on what I’ve heard, he’s a decent guy. And assuming she’s not stupid, which is questionable since she fell for you, she won’t keep him at arm’s length for long. He’ll make a move on her. Soon.”

  All three of his brothers’ intense gazes focused on his face and Chance met each for a few seconds before moving on. Jake was grinning like the class clown. Mitchell looked like he was watching an epic tragedy unfold. And Derek? Well, Derek just looked pissed, but what else was new?

  “You going to sit here all fucking day? Every fucking day? For the rest of your life?” Derek asked the questions, then took his time looking around Chance’s new office. “I mean, the potted plant and bookshelves are nice. Excellent mountain views. Good, steady paycheck and a smoking-hot octogenarian secretary for you to bang when you’re horny and working late. I can totally see why you might want to stay here and rot for the next thirty or forty fucking years.”

  “Fuck you guys.” Chance stood up and put his jacket on.

  “Naw, man. Sit back down. Derek promised me you’d be too stubborn to admit you love her, and I’d get to manhandle you some more.” Jake cracked his knuckles and hung his head in disappointment.

  “Plane leaves in three hours.” Mitchell wrote 3 Hours on a small sticky note and lifted it to his forehead. When it was stuck there, he pointed to it with both hands. “Three hours. And you still have to pack.”

  Chance stared at the envelope in his hand. Freedom. That was what was staring him in the face. He didn’t need this job, didn’t need the money. He had enough in the bank to live for a few years, at least, thanks to his mother. What he needed was purpose, and arguing legal briefs and taking depositions from cheating spouses wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind when he went to law school. He’d imagined saving thousands of damaged souls, one brilliant legal move at a time. He had wanted to change the world, but the world changed him instead.

  Truth. That was his new motto, and he understood now, why Erin had chosen it. Being honest with himself was hard. He didn’t want to live in the cesspool of ugly divorces and custody battles. He wanted to help kids, not get mired in their parents’ bullshit. And he could do that a hundred different ways that had nothing to do with this law office, this desk, or this fucking job.

  But now, he only had one burning desire, to love and protect Erin Michaelson and make sure she never felt alone again. His house was empty, a massive tomb filled with expensive furniture and silence. He was dead in that house without her. When he was a boy, he’d dreamed of being some kind of superhero, of saving people. Turned out the only soul that needed saving was his, and only one woman could save him.

  Chance stormed out from behind his desk and Jake smacked him on the back as he headed for the door. “Go get her, loverboy.”

  Chance stopped with his hand on the doorknob. “Why are you guys doing this?”

  Jake snorted. “City-slicker, please. We all saw you with her. Lightning strike.” Jake opened his hands in a mock explosion with the word, “Boom.”

  “And she fried your ass with one hit. You still smell a little crispy…” Mitchell sniffed in his direction and Derek slapped him on the back.

  “Now, open the door and get the fuck out of here. You keep stalling and she’ll have a new man by the time you get there.” Derek was only half joking, and his voice held the bitter tang of regret.

  “Not possible.” Chance said the words, but he picked up his pace. Mitchell and Jake laughed, and their amusement chased him down the hall.

  <><><>

  Erin sat on the edge of the stage during a ten-minute rehearsal break. They’d been playing for hours, but the concert was tonight, and she had given her new band members four new songs to learn yesterday.

  Thank goodness Wes Shipton knew his business, and the hardcore musicians behind her made it look easy. They’d learned the first song in under an hour. Now they were all just spit-shining the music to perfection to make her happy, and to help her deal with pre-show nerves.

  She dialed AJ’s cell and waited, impatiently, for him to pick up. She worried, and she called him about ten times a day.

  “Hey, sis.” AJ’s voice cheered her up and she tried her best to smile even though he couldn’t see her. She knew he would hear it in her voice.

  “Hey. How are you feeling today?”

  He groaned. “The nurses are mean, the food is shit, and they keep making me get up and walk around. I can’t sleep because they’re in here every couple hours poking and prodding me with something. They’re rationing my pain meds and they won’t let me drink.”

  “Sounds like hell on Earth.” She swung her legs and tried to sound happy, excited, encouraging.

  “It is.” AJ paused for a minute and Erin could tell he was working his way around something, so she waited. “E.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  The first tear took her completely by surprise, but the second slid silently down her cheek, chasing the first. “I know. It’s okay. You just focus on getting better and I’ll be home before you know it.”

  “But that’s just it. I don’t want you to come home.” AJ’s voice broke on the last and Erin sucked in a breath, frozen in place.

  “What? What are you talking about? I told you. I have one show, then I’ll be back for three weeks to help you get settled and…”

  “No.” He barked the word in her ear and she blinked, shocked.

  “What do you mean, no? That’s the plan. I’ll be home tomorrow night.”

  AJ’s sigh made her heart squeeze in her chest. Something was wrong. Really, really wrong. He never sounded like this. Ever. “What’s wrong, AJ? What aren’t you telling me?”

  “I don’t want you here.”

  The words hit her like a sledgehammer in the chest. First she lost Chance, now this? “I don�
�t understand.”

  “Look, I need to do this on my own. I don’t want you to take care of me anymore. If you’re here, it’ll be too easy for me to start relying on you for everything again. You’re too strong, Erin. You’re too strong, and it makes me hate you sometimes.”

  Holy shit. She tried to figure out what to say, but AJ continued before she could.

  “If you come home, I’ll feel like shit about myself. I’ll know you only came back for me. I’ll feel guilty and like I’m a burden, which I am.”

  “You’re not a burden.”

  “Don’t lie, Erin. Not when I’m here on my back in a fucking hospital bed with my naked bits hanging out the back of this ugly-ass gown.” She chuckled and he plowed ahead. “Look. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t want you to come home. I want you to go do what you have to do. Sell out concerts and write new songs. Be famous. Be a star. That’s what you are supposed to be. Don’t let me hold you back anymore. I can’t deal with that.”

  “But what are you doing to do?” And that was the big question. How as he going to survive without her?

  “I don’t know. Get a job and actually show up. Start going to AA meetings. Eat vegetables? Fuck, I don’t know. But it’s time for me to figure it out.” She heard AJ shift in his bed and she wiped the tears from her cheeks as he spoke. “I love you, E. I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “I know. But it’s my turn to take care of you for once in my fucking life. So, don’t you dare come home. Stay there and kill it. Walk around that stage like you’re Katie Perry. Do you fucking hear me? Kill it, Eva James. Fucking own it. For me.”

  It took several tries before she could get the words past the lump in her throat. “Okay. For you.”

  “Thank God. Arguing with you is impossible. I finally won one.”