Missing From Me: Rockstar Romance (Sixth Street Bands Book 3)

by Jayne Frost

  Setting her on her feet, I gave her a stern look. Boundaries. It was a recurrent theme in Anna’s messages.

  But the little manipulator had other plans, and she propped a hand on her hip. “You poomised.”

  It was the pout that did me in. Or maybe the resemblance to her mother. Either way, I was toast, so I dropped the single key into Willow’s waiting palm.

  Lola chuckled as I picked up my plate.

  “What happened to ‘no food in the studio’?” she asked, using her best baritone to mock me.

  “It’s my studio,” I grumbled, not sure if it was true anymore. “I can eat in there if I want.”

  Lola’s rumbling laughter followed me all the way down the narrow staircase. Shaking my head, I slid into the chair in front of the control panel.

  Seated behind her miniature drum kit with her custom pink earphones in place, Willow frowned at me through the glass. “Da…?”

  I turned on the microphone. “You play, sunshine. I’m going to stay in here. “

  Willow’s eyes darted to my kit and back to me, and I nodded reassuringly. She didn’t need me or anyone else, the beat in her head was enough.

  Relaxing in the soft leather chair, I smiled as Willow hit the kick drum, and soon she was lost in the rhythm, pounding away. The kid amazed me with her stamina as well as her versatility. I’d outfitted the studio with miniature versions of a number of instruments, and Willow had familiarized herself with each one. She was more gifted than I was by a mile.

  Detecting a change in the riff, I flipped on the recorder, overlaying her new composition with tracks I’d recorded during previous sessions.

  A couple of hours later, Willow wandered into the booth, her hair falling out of her ponytail. Pushing my arm aside, she climbed into my lap and then cocked her head, watching in fascination as I affixed the custom label with her name and the Caged logo to the CD.

  Placing the disc in the clear plastic case, I smiled at her.

  “This is you, Willow-baby.” Her eyes widened as I laid the box in her hands. “Play it for Mommy so she can see how talented you are.”

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Anna

  The waitress at Kettle dropped my plate of pancakes on the table.

  “Ya know,” she drawled. “We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone. We don’t. But we can. You better rethink your attire next time you come in here, missy. If you know what I mean.”

  I didn’t.

  I blinked up at her, cheeks burning, and then I surveyed the crowd. Denim, faded T-shirts, flip-flops.

  “I . . . um . . .”

  The waitress slowly shifted her gaze to the Baylor Bears poster on the wall, then back to me. Specifically, to my UT baseball cap, and then lower to the matching Longhorn tank top.

  The flush spread to my chest. “Um, yeah . . . thanks for the advice, ma’am. I’ll remember, for next time.”

  Hand on hip, she pursed her lips. “Make sure that you do.”

  She sauntered away, and I sank lower in the booth, acutely aware of my wardrobe as I sipped my coffee. All around me there was a sea of green. Green shirts. Green hats. All with that damned bear emblazoned on them. I frowned because I’d never truly fit in here. Baylor was a means to an end. A concession. I’d get my law degree, and more importantly, I could focus on my studies without obsessing over Sean.

  Much.

  He was back on the road, a mini-tour of Nashville and a couple of dates in the surrounding states. Still, he’d managed to send an email every night and FaceTimed with Willow at least twice throughout the day.

  Banishing Sean from my thoughts, I finished my breakfast and then tucked into the corner of the booth with my textbook. The restaurant was full, so when an audible gasp rippled through the crowd, it caught my attention.

  My mouth dropped open when I lifted my gaze and saw Sean following the hostess to a table in the front. A smartly dressed woman, mid-to-late twenties, slid into the booth across from him. My stomach turned when I noticed the way her eyes glinted. She was facing me, while all I could see of Sean was the back of his head, his long hair pulled into a loose bun, and his left arm with the willow tree tattoo on his bicep.

  What was he doing here?

  Anger rooted me to my seat while every cell in my body screamed to march over to his table. Several people were whispering now, and I heard Sean’s name. The woman he was with must’ve noticed, because she sat higher, looking around like she was the queen of England. And then she touched him. Just a pat on his arm, but I felt it like a burn on my skin.

  My next class was starting in a half hour, but there was no way for me to leave without Sean seeing me. So I waited, my pulse climbing to dangerous levels. And just when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, they got up and left. Walked right out the front door.

  With a shaky hand, I pulled my phone from my backpack and fired off a text.

  What time are you getting in so I’ll know when to have Willow ready?

  It took Sean a long time to answer. I was already in my car, driving aimlessly when his message came through.

  I can meet you after your last class.

  I pulled over and studied the text.

  He hadn’t answered my question, but then, why would I expect him to?

  Tears pricked the back of my eyes as I fumbled with the keyboard.

  No class today. I’ll pick Willow up from daycare now and meet you in the park at one.

  No message came back. And I shuddered to think of what Sean was doing. But I couldn’t confront him. I’d lost that right the day I’d walked away.

  Rubbing my chest, I eased into traffic, wondering when the ache would finally go way.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Sean

  I sat under the tree in the park where Anna and I usually met for custody exchanges. I hated that fucking phrase—custody exchange. It sounded so formal. And hopefully, after today, Anna and I would be on more intimate terms.

  Skimming the lease that Vanessa, the realtor, had drawn up for the three-bedroom house on the quiet street not far from the Baylor campus, I wondered again if I should bite the bullet and buy the place. It’s not like I wanted to pay someone else’s mortgage for three years.

  Fuck it.

  I signed on the dotted line and then dug my journal out of my backpack. The leather-bound notebook contained every thought, poem, and lyric I’d written about Anna over the last year.

  Turning to a blank page, I mused over some broken phrase about new beginnings.

  “Da!”

  Willow’s voice carried from the parking lot, and when I looked up, she was racing across the grass. Flinging herself into my arms, she smothered me with kisses that I gratefully returned.

  Five fucking days. I’d missed five days, and it felt like five hundred.

  Anna paused a fair distance away, surveying our reunion with a frown.

  The box containing her diamond jabbed into my thigh, a constant reminder of what I’d lost and what I had to gain.

  “Hey Anna-baby,” I smiled at her. “What are you standing way over there for?”

  Reluctantly, she shuffled over, and without addressing me, she bent down and spoke to Willow. “Why don’t you go play while I talk to Daddy, okay?”

  Willow looked at me, and my stomach flipped, but I nodded. As I watched her walk away, I searched my memory for anything that could’ve upset Anna. There were constant stories about the band in the press, but I made sure I was never photographed alone with a woman. It was comical, really, the way I hid whenever the band did meet-and-greets.

  As soon as Willow was out of earshot, Anna sank onto the grass in front of me, three feet of space between us. “I thought you weren’t getting in until tonight?”

  Something about the way she was looking at me felt off.

  “I flew in last night after our show.”

  Her eyes narrowed in that way they did when she was sussing out a problem. Or jumping to a conclusion. “And you drove in this mor
ning?”

  “No, I came straight here from the airport.”

  “You were here last night?” She cocked her head, her brow furrowed. “Where did you stay?”

  I leaned forward, my boot brushing against her knee. “Homewood Suites, why?”

  “A hotel . . .” Her shoulders slumped. “I didn’t see you online.”

  “Yeah, sorry we didn’t get to catch up the last few nights. With the shows,” I blew out a breath, “it’s been crazy. And then my plane didn’t get in until after ten, and by the time I got here, it was after midnight.”

  Our Facebook chats were the highlight of my day. But I had little latitude when it came to shows. Getting a promoter to agree to a matinee performance for our hard-rocking band was out of the question. That kind of shit didn’t happen unless you were Justin Beiber and your fan base had a 10:00 p.m. curfew.

  Twisting her fingers in her lap, Anna searched my face. “Why would you spend the night here, Sean?”

  I picked absently at the dry grass. “I’m moving here, baby. To Waco.”

  The column of Anna’s throat constricted as she swallowed. “You’re what?”

  Scooting closer, I caught a whiff of her hair and the speech I’d planned escaped my memory. “Listen . . . I want to be close—”

  “No!” Anna hauled to her feet. “You can’t . . .You can’t do this to me.”

  As I looked her over, from the fury in her eyes to the flush coloring he chest to her fingers balled into tight fists at her side, a million thoughts collided, but only one found its way to my lips. “Are you seeing someone, Anna-baby?”

  She swayed as if I’d slapped her, and when she found her voice incredulity trembled her tone. “You’re asking me if I’m seeing someone?” Pointing her finger at me, she roared, “You’re the one who showed up at Kettle with another woman.”

  In the silence that swelled between us, the aftermath of Anna’s accusation, I swung my attention to Willow, perched on the carousel.

  “The other woman was my realtor,” I replied. “But you still haven’t answered my question.”

  Processing the information, Anna rubbed her forehead with the heel of her hand. “Of course I’m not seeing anyone,” she finally said.

  I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding.

  But when Anna finally met my gaze, nothing had changed. “What do you want from me, Sean? I signed over joint custody of my . . .” She closed her eyes and then sighed. “Of our daughter. Without a fight. I’ve tried everything to make this work.”

  She tracked my movement as I stood. “I want to make it work too. You’re here, so I’m here. It’s as simple as that. I came for you.”

  Before I’d even finished, Anna was shaking her head. “You’re not here for me. You’re here for Willow.”

  “No—”

  “Stop! Just stop!” She backed up a foot when I stepped forward. “I want you to leave. This isn’t Austin. It’s a small town, and there’s no place for me to hide here.”

  “Why would you hide from me?”

  After a long moment, her shoulders sagged. “Because I love you,” she said quietly and a tear spilled onto her cheek. “And not because you’re Willow’s father. She’s the result, not the reason. I won’t be some obligation you were content to leave in the past until you found out you knocked me up. You wanted a different life. I wasn’t enough for you.”

  My lips parted to mount a protest, but she shook her head.

  “Don’t say it. I’m not blaming you or myself. But you can’t just come here and think you’re going to mold me into something you want.”

  The last brick of the wall between us crashed to the floor, revealing something deeper than hurt and mistrust over my long-ago betrayal.

  “What do you think I want?”

  She sucked in a breath. “It’s not about you. I’m raising a daughter, Sean. I want her to believe in the fairy tale. The one that you left behind. I want her to have that. And I don’t want her to see her mother pining away for a dream that someone else forgot.”

  I moved blindly, but Anna shook her head.

  “If you’ve ever cared for me at all, Sean, you’ll leave. I hope you find what you’re looking for, Sean. But I’m not it.”

  With one last look into my eyes, Anna spun on her heel and ran to our daughter.

  Confused as fuck, I dropped on my ass and watched as she knelt in front of Willow and gave her a quick kiss. And then she marched to her car without sparing me another glance.

  I pulled into Melissa’s driveway sometime after dusk. Why I always ended up here, I couldn’t say. Taking my phone from the charger, I glanced at the screen. Nothing from Anna, but a shit ton from Vanessa, the realtor. I got the distinct impression she wanted to do more than rent me a house.

  I knew the deal. It wasn’t me that she wanted, but Sean Hudson, drummer for Caged. The rockstar.

  Was I even that guy anymore? There was no beat in my head. No music in the rain.

  Cursing the damn silence, I got out of the car and then freed a sleeping Willow from her car seat. Burrowing against me, she pressed her face to my neck as I entered the house.

  Holding a finger to my lips when I walked through the living room, I warned Melissa to stay quiet. She glanced at Willow and nodded, quiet concern painting her features.

  On the way up the stairs, I passed Chelsea and she ran a hand over Willow’s back and then kissed my cheek.

  That’s why I was here. Comfort.

  After tucking Willow into bed, I trudged downstairs where Melissa and Chelsea waited, looking appropriately confused.

  Melissa folded me into a hug, and I no longer felt all of her ribs protruding, so I didn’t worry about breaking her when I returned the embrace.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked. “I thought you were in Nashville.”

  I dropped into the chair, exhausted. “I was. I got in last night and then went to Waco.”

  Chelsea sat forward, a grin breaking like dawn on her face. “So you spent the night with Anna?”

  Rather than answer their questions one at a time, I laid it out there. Told them about my surprise. The house. All of it.

  And when I was finished, I waited for the consoling to begin because, damn, I needed it.

  My gaze flicked between my aunt and my niece when they said nothing.

  Melissa was the first to react, pinching the bridge of her nose like she was fighting a headache. “You didn’t tell Anna you were coming?”

  She ventured a peek, sighing when I shook my head.

  “How could you do that?” Chelsea chimed in, scowling.

  What the actual fuck?

  “Excuse the hell out of me for trying to put my family back together.” I hauled to my feet in search of alcohol.

  When I reclaimed my seat, bottle in hand and no glass in sight, Melissa glared at me.

  “Don’t you think before you decided to put your family back together you might’ve wanted to include Anna in the plans?” my aunt asked, and Chelsea nodded her agreement.

  I eyed the crazy women as I gulped from the bottle.

  Chelsea let out a little snort as she stood up. “Lucky you have your looks,” she brushed another kiss across my cheek, “’cause you’re thick as a brick.”

  I grunted, taking another drink as she strode out of the room and up the stairs.

  “Go ahead,” I said to Melissa, sinking further into my seat. “Lay it on me. Obviously, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”

  Or, as I feared, it was too late, and Anna was done with me. Recalling her declaration of love in the park, I cringed inside. It was more of an indictment, something she was forced to endure, like a wound that wouldn’t heal.

  “I want you to look at something,” Melissa said as she handed me a brightly colored box. “Anna brought this by before she left town.”

  Curious, I lifted the lid, and at least a hundred pictures in various sizes stared back at me.

  My insides turned outside wh
en I picked up the first photo.

  Clad in a pink sundress, Anna stood beside a cake with a toy bassinet on top, forcing a smile for the camera. The momentary joy I felt at seeing the baby bump was eclipsed by the vacant look in her eyes. She wore the identical expression in the next picture. And the next. I shuffled through the stack for one image not tainted by her sorrow.

  And then I found it.

  Swathed in her hospital-issued pink blanket and beanie, Willow peered up at her mother, and despite the tubes attached to each arm and her ghostly, pale skin, Anna looked happy.

  Resting the box on my knee, I traced the corner of each photo that marked every event I’d missed.

  When I finally stepped out of the past, I met Melissa’s soft blue eyes.

  “That’s what she remembers, sugar. What’s etched into her soul.”

  I hung my head, the weight of all my mistakes weighing me down. “Don’t you think I know that, Lissa? That I regret it every day? That I wish it were different?”

  Melissa grabbed my hand. “Tell me what you’d change.”

  I laughed, because there was only one answer. “Everything. I love her. I’ve always loved her.”

  Only her.

  Sighing, Melissa shook her head and then eased back against the cushions. “You still don’t get it. Your problem has never been love. You just . . . you do what you want. You don’t think. That little snafu with your lawyer didn’t teach you a damn thing. And it wasn’t always like that. You and Anna, you used to talk. I’d hear you from my room, making plans. Now you seem to think you can build her a big house and she should live in it. Or that she should forget about the things you promised her.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “No. That’s not it. I—”

  “You what? Hired a realtor and got her another house?” She snorted. “Same shit. The only thing you changed was geography.”

  Suddenly it was so clear to me, like a blinding light shining from the heavens. I glanced around the room at the photos of Anna and me from a different time. A different place. When I included her. When her opinion mattered.