by Selena Kitt
“I didn’t know...” I swallowed, feeling tears brimming again.
“Katie, Katie, Katie.” He sighed, pulling me so close, hugging me so hard, it was difficult to breathe. Not that I cared. “You always sell yourself way too short...”
I clung to him, telling myself that this was real, he was real. Maybe for the first time, we were being real together, here, in this moment. I felt him take a long, slow, deep breath, his nose buried in my hair, his hands moving over my back, under my light, spring jacket, lifting my t-shirt to seek skin. Oh, his hands on me. I’d almost forgotten.
“The next time, I’ll say yes,” I whispered, kissing the hollow of his throat, already questioning my sanity.
What would it hurt, if I went along with him on tour? Why couldn’t we be together, if we both wanted it so much? If we loved each other, didn’t we deserve to be together? But I knew that was the crazy talking. The wild girl that had run away from her life, her problems, her family, herself—that was the Katie who wanted to run again. She would always want to run, I realized. But I had to find the Katie in me who would stay, who would stand up and make promises she could actually keep.
“Promise?” Tyler asked, as if he could hear my very thoughts. His hands moved over my lower back, his fingers tracing a familiar pattern. I smiled and nuzzled his neck, shivers quivering up my spine.
“What are you writing?” I laughed. “It tickles.”
“My Katie,” he confessed, tracing it repeatedly, rubbing it in with his palm. “Since the day I met you, I wanted you to be my Katie.”
My Katie. Now that he said it, I recognized the letters he’d been tracing on my skin since we first met. That was what he’d been writing all along.
“I am yours,” I told him.
“Then prove it.”
“Ty...” I gave him a look and he grinned.
“I have to catch a flight in about six hours.” His eyes grew dark as his gaze swept over me, his hands moving over my skin again. “Let’s see how sore I can make you.”
“What about Sarah?” I glanced toward the house.
She was peeking out of the blinds, watching. That made me smile.
“She’s not invited.”
I giggled when he challenged me to a race into the house, but I was off to a head start before he’d even said “go!”
Sarah asked what in the world we were up to as we tore past her, down the hall, both of us out of breath when we locked Sabrina’s bedroom door behind us, laughing as we kissed each other down onto the bed.
I tried to be quiet, knowing Sarah was out there—she knocked on the door a few times, but we were both too busy to answer and she finally gave up—but in the end, I succumbed and lived up to my reputation as Katie the Screamer. And Sarah was so happy I wasn’t running away to go on tour with Trouble, she didn’t even mention all the noise she must have heard coming from Sabrina’s bedroom when we finally came out hours later, dehydrated, sore, and hungry.
She just took off her earbuds, put down her book, and said goodbye to Tyler when it was time for him to go. She gave him a big, long hug, telling him to stay sane and sober. Sound advice. I wanted to go to the airport with him, but I knew I could only be so strong. He held me close, he kissed me, we made promises to talk, text, call, email, everything we could do long distance that was humanly possible to stay connected. And to his credit, he didn’t ask me to go with him again.
Because if he had, I might have broken down.
It was Sarah who was there when he had gone, when I finally collapsed, sobbing on the sofa. It was Sarah who stroked my hair and held my hand and told me I’d done the right thing, for both of us, for all of us. I knew it, and I hated it at the same time. This whole being a grown-up thing was, I decided when I crawled into bed, still smelling him on the covers, way overrated.
Then Tyler called me from the plane before it took off.
“I miss you already,” I told him. “It hurts.”
“I know.” He sighed. “I’m kissing you right now. Making it all better.”
“Kissing the ouchies away?” I sniffed, smiling.
“I’d make it all better if I could,” he whispered. “I’d take away all your pain.”
We’d both been running, looking for a way to escape the pain, and that instinct remained strong, ingrained. But pain was meant to be felt, I realized, just as much as joy or love. My pain wouldn’t ever disappear entirely, but knowing Tyler loved me enough to want it to—that made it bearable.
“You do make it better,” I told him honestly. He couldn’t take my pain away and I couldn’t take his either. But just hearing him say he wanted to, feeling the love behind his words, made it okay. He didn’t make it go away—he made me feel brave enough, safe enough, loved enough, to face it, to feel it.
That was a far greater gift to me than being painless.
And it was a much better high than heroin had ever been.
By the time Tyler’s flight took off and we had to say goodbye again, I was already flying. Higher than a kite. We both were. Loving each other was like breathing now, natural and easy and constant. It buoyed me up, like the air in my lungs, keeping me afloat in a sea of crazy. We said it before we hung up, but we didn’t need to, because we both knew.
We both felt it in every part of our being.
Together, loving each other, we could reach heights addicts could only ever dream about.
The End
TROUBLE BREWING
TROUBLE BREWING DESCRIPTION
When I met Tyler Cook, it was the end of a past I didn’t want to look back on and the beginning of a future I couldn’t wait to start.
One lick of Tyler, and that’s all it took. I was addicted. To him, to his wild, raucous life as a rock star on the road with the band Trouble, and eventually, to most of the drugs I discovered he was taking to make that life—and the secrets he was being forced to keep—a little more bearable.
But I couldn’t quit him, no matter how much it hurt. If you met Tyler, you’d understand why I think he’s so worth it. The man plays guitar like he f*cks—plugged in, turned on, and set to the ultimate high. Every girl wants him but I’m the only girl he wants.
Now he’s clean, he’s mine, and I have everything I could have ever dreamed of.
Until it all comes unplugged and our world goes blacker than black. And then I have to decide if the tormented, broken man I love more than anything is worth everything—even risking my own life.
Chapter One
It was all my fault my best friend nearly died.
It was all my fault.
I mean, I was pretty used to taking the blame for everything when it came to Sabrina. That was our friendship in a nutshell, really. Everyone knew Katie was synonymous with fucking up, and if there was trouble, I was the probable cause. But what happened to Bree was so my fault I wanted to crawl into a hole and die afterward, and probably would have, if it hadn’t been for Tyler.
Honestly, if I wanted to deflect, I could have blamed Tyler—he was the one who came back and clouded my head. Once I was in his arms, it was like cotton candy had gotten stuffed between my ears, but it was so fucking dizzying and sweet I could barely stand it.
I let myself fall into him again. It was like cliff diving, a free fall into nothing and everything at once. I’d been anticipating it so long, I thought seeing him again might actually be a disappointment. You know how you feel, Christmas morning, after all the presents are unwrapped and everyone sort of goes their own way to take a shower or get something to eat? Sort of let down and deflated?
I’d built up our reunion so much in my head, I thought maybe it would feel like that afterward.
Holy hell, was I wrong.
Not that it was all roses and rainbows and unicorns either. It was more like an endless sort of roller coaster ride, where the anticipation going up gave you butterflies and the ride down into the valley was so exhilarating—and, let’s face it, kind of scary—you almost forgot to breathe.
But I had no idea it was going to be like that when I flew into LAX with Sarah.
“Jesse!” Sarah threw her arms around a tall, tanned surfer-type who hefted her bag with one arm and the slight, dark haired girl in the other, accepting her kiss on his cheek with a grin. “Oh my God, is it good to see you. You’re always the first sign I’m really home.”
“You mean, besides seeing ‘In-and-Out Burger’ as you land?” He laughed, reaching for my bag, which I relinquished.
“Oh, don’t tempt me.” Sarah wrinkled her nose. She had porcelain skin, like a doll, even though she spent most of her time in the California sun. Her cheeks looked even paler next to the dark contrast of her hair. “Did Daisy make anything yummy? I’m starving.”
“She’s Daisy—she’s been cooking for days.” The driver turned to cock his head at me. “This must be Katie?”
“Oh, sorry. Katie, this is Jesse,” Sarah said, making the introductions. “He’s Trouble’s chauffeur, handyman and guy-who-can-get-things.”
“Like a tour angel?” I asked, thinking of Celeste. She was still on tour with Trouble in Europe. She’d been a life-saver, more than once. “Only, you know, at home?”
“Oh, no.” Jesse laughed, shaking his head. “Celeste is our angel-of-all-things, on tour or off. I just drive everyone around because I know where everything is.”
“He also plays bartender sometimes,” Sarah piped up. “Makes a mean Margarita.”
Jesse gave her a dark look and she shrugged one shoulder.
“I didn’t ask you to make me one.” She stuck her tongue out at him and I remembered—Sarah’s drug of choice had been alcohol. And she technically wasn’t even quite old enough to drink yet.
“Come on, you two.” Jesse turned and headed toward the sliding glass doors. “Daisy’s probably made three more cakes and a roast beef since I left.”
California was everything I’d ever dreamed of—warm breezes, palm trees, tons of traffic. I’d been fantasizing about moving to California for years. Somewhere in this state, my father was living with his new wife and my little sister, who I had only met once.
One time.
My father had finally made the trip to Michigan just this year to see me for the first time since my parents divorced when I was a kid. Too bad I had to go into rehab to make that happen. When he hugged me in the lobby of the treatment center, I remember thinking, Gee, Dad, if I’d known that’s all it would take, I would have gotten addicted to heroin a lot sooner.
But I didn’t say it.
My therapist had put me on a snark-diet while I was in treatment. I was supposed to suppress my first urge to say something sassy, and “look deeper” into my feelings. When I told him that was a deep well, and the water down there wasn’t safe for drinking, he gave me that look again.
No snark, Katie. Be real.
Okay, so if I was being real, the butterflies in my stomach weren’t just from the plane ride. I was feeling a combination of excitement and dread that I couldn’t even define. Jesse put our bags in the trunk of a very nice-looking Bentley while I got into the back with Sarah. She seemed to sense my unease and reached over, squeezing my hand.
“He’ll be back tomorrow,” she said, as if she needed to remind me. My thoughts were filled with Tyler. “And I already called Rob as soon as we got off the plane. He insists. Worrywort.”
I smiled when she rolled her eyes and then crossed them. Rob was Trouble’s lead singer—Tyler played lead guitar—and that’s whose house we were headed to in the hills. They all lived there. Well, not the whole band—just Tyler and Rob. Sarah was a former addict and close friend of the band who just happened to live with them both.
When I asked Tyler how, exactly, that had come about—yeah, I admit, I was more than a little curious and, well, jealous—Tyler said Rob had met her in recovery and they’d sort of bonded over that. At some point, Sarah had become homeless, and Rob had taken her in like a stray puppy and she’d been living with them ever since.
I’d still been kind of jealous, until Sarah told me she was a lesbian. Then it suddenly made more sense and I could relax about it. Because I couldn’t imagine a straight girl living with Rob Burns and Tyler Cook from Trouble without an ulterior motive. That much panty-melting testosterone in one place? What girl could possibly resist? But maybe I was biased.
Sarah didn’t want them—not like that. But she loved them both, that much was clear. Rob and Tyler treated her like a little sister. To me, in the past few months, Sarah became my next-best-friend, next to Sabrina, who’d been my bestie forever. Sarah had come to my rescue, after my near-overdose. That had happened after I had left Trouble’s tour bus—and Tyler—behind. And that was how I ended up in rehab in the first place.
Rob had asked her to look after me, like calling in the cavalry, and she had been amazing. After I was out of rehab, we’d both moved into Sabrina’s place—Sabrina had gone on Trouble’s European tour. Tyler had wanted me to come, too, but that’s how we’d gotten into trouble—every pun intended—in the first place.
Maybe Sabrina had been smart not to take Rob up on his first offer to go on tour with Trouble. Me, though—I’d jumped at the chance when Tyler asked. It was crazy enough, running into Tyler and Rob backstage, but then hooking up with our dream-rock-stars and being invited on tour? It was a dream come true! Sensible Sabrina though, had to stay behind for her job as an elementary school teacher. Carefree Katie, on the other hand, had practically set a speed record packing and getting on that bus.
I never could resist an adventure.
But life on the road had landed me into a world of hurt, including a giant heroin-laced monkey on my back I’d just managed to shake. Going on tour again would have just plunged me back into it, and while Tyler had gotten clean, too, I just knew myself too well to risk both his recovery and mine by throwing caution to the wind and going on tour with Trouble again so soon.
Not that being apart hadn’t been torture. I ached for him, wanted him every minute of the day, and doubted my decision with every phone call. But Sarah had been there, making sure I went to my meetings, helping me sort through and pack all Sabrina’s things, and my own. She had been a shoulder to cry on and a rock to lean on, and I didn’t know what I would have done without her.
She’d been the one who helped me button everything up back home in Michigan before we left. Sabrina’s car was being driven across country—I’d sold mine—and our stuff had been shipped ahead to Rob’s house. If it weren’t for Sarah’s incredible organizational skills, I was fairly sure I would have fallen apart trying to do it all myself. It was an overwhelming task for the two of us as it was, but we’d gotten it done.
The plan was to fly in and get settled before Tyler came home tomorrow. He had a much longer flight than ours. I hadn’t seen him since Trouble left for the European leg of their tour, although we talked several times a day, and Skyped before I went to bed every night. I honestly felt closer to him now than ever, even though we hadn’t physically touched in months.
But I had to admit, the thought of Tyler’s hands on me, his mouth on mine, was enough to make my stomach flip. It was doing somersaults in there. Sarah kept talking about Daisy—who I could only assume was Trouble’s cook—and her infamously delicious food, but I couldn’t think about eating. I couldn’t think about anything or anyone but Tyler.
I was only peripherally paying attention to the scenery—so many palm trees were a visual affront when I was used to pine—until Jesse pulled the car up to a set of giant, wrought-iron gates. There was a camera mounted over a keypad, and I shook my head, incredulous, as Jesse punched a code into it, he waved to the security guys on-screen, and the gate swung slowly open.
The car wound up a long drive and stopped in front of the biggest house I’d ever seen in my life. Sarah was already scrambling out of the car, before Jesse could even open his door, and I saw someone waiting on the wide, front porch steps. I assumed it was Daisy—who else would be wearing a flour-dusted apron?
I thought she would be a little more matronly, but she couldn’t have been much older than me.
The two women laughed together, embracing, and I hung back, feeling out of place. It was just hitting me, what I’d left behind. My whole life, really, such as it was. And for what? To move to a whole new state across the country, a place I’d never been to, into a house I’d never seen before—and what a house! More like mansion, really. A bridge spanned water that surrounded the house like a moat, leading to a set of double doors where Sarah and Daisy were talking. I looked into the water, searching for fish, but it was so clear and blue I could see to the bottom.
“You can go for a swim later if you want,” Jesse told me, pulling the bags out of the trunk. “I assume you brought a suit.”
“It’s a swimming pool?” I gaped at him in disbelief. “Are you kidding me?”
“Diving board’s out back,” Jesse replied. “In the deep end. Fifteen feet.”
“And it goes all the way around the house?” I shook my head. “It’s like a freaking castle!”
“Yeah, I guess it’s impressive, the first time you see it.” Jesse chuckled, hauling my bag out of the trunk and closing it.
I took a step forward, holding out my hand to get my suitcase. “Here, I’ll—”
“No, ma’am.” He shook his head, pulling my bag toward him, just out of my reach. “I’ll take it up to your room.”
“Ma’am?” I snorted. “I castrated the last guy who called me ‘ma’am’…”
“I believe you.” Jesse laughed, moving my bag again when I went to grab for it. “But I’m still taking your bag up to your room. Let me do my job, okay?”
“Okay,” I agreed and then grinned. “But don’t steal all my heroin.”
Sarah gave me a dark look from the porch—she’d obviously heard me.
“I’m kidding!” I called, giving her a wave. “I kid!”