“No. I couldn’t . . . I can’t.” I shook my head. “I’m sorry, I’m just confused. But I . . . I didn’t think it was good to kiss him, then kiss you.”
“I thought you said someone kissed you.”
“He did. I stopped him. Well, after a few seconds.” God, someone stitch my mouth shut. I felt like Jim Carrey in Liar, Liar, like I was compelled to tell the truth.
“Did you like it?”
Did I? I liked the intimacy. I liked feeling wanted.
“I was more so caught off guard.”
He shook his head, squeezed his eyes shut. “Do you like him? This Edward guy?”
“Yes. No. I like him as a friend. He cares, and it feels good to be cared for. But I don’t like-like him like that.” I shrugged. “I don’t know why I told you.”
“To make me jealous? I get it. I deserve it.”
“No, I don’t want to hurt you. I just—”
“It’s okay. I appreciate your honesty and communication. That’s what we’re here to do, right?”
“Yeah.” I clasped my hands together, looking everywhere but at him, too afraid that he’d regret the beautiful moment we’d had.
“Hey.” He now stood in front of me. I hadn’t even heard him move. “Things haven’t changed for me. Do you . . . still love me?”
I nodded. “I love you. I’m just not sure if you truly love me, too. I know I shouldn’t have read that letter. Sometimes I could kick myself for doing that to you, but I can’t get those words out of my head. And . . . and if you don’t love me, that’s okay, too. I can still be there for you. As a friend.”
And it was true. I wanted Darren to succeed. But when it came to a romantic relationship, I just wasn’t sure. Sometimes love wasn’t enough. Damn, I hated when people, actors, would say things like that in a movie. Everyone deserved a happily-ever-after, and if the love was there, people could work it out. Or so I thought.
Real life is messy and complicated, and hell if I knew what to do.
“I’ll give you all the time you need.” He leaned down and kissed my forehead. “But know this. I’m not giving up on us. Not ever again. And I’ll earn your trust. Even if it takes the rest of our lives, I’ll happily prove my love for you every day.” He backed away, moving toward his car. “See you soon, Kara.”
CHAPTER 15
Hold On—Nikki
“The wheels on the bus go round and round,” I sang to myself, staring mindlessly off in space as our tour bus drove toward the entrance of the motel. We were covering the central part of our tour and were now moving south toward Memphis.
Before the tour began, James had planned to fly in and stay for two nights. But no such luck. My mini-me had stuck to her guns and no longer wanted to speak. I mean, WTF. I go off for a few months and everyone hates me. James and I don’t speak, but he does daily texts to see if I’m alive.
To check if I’m drunk.
The conversation with Monica had sobered me a bit. I still drank, still smoked, but there was this consciousness that hadn’t been there before. An angel on my right shoulder, telling me there was another way, and the devil on my left reminding me how good it felt to be faded.
They were both fucking nuts, but the angel drove me crazier. The divine messenger made me dig deep, remember why I started drinking in the first place.
And I’d finally remembered it was one night that Daddy had stumbled in, smelling like a distillery. Mom came out of bed mad at the world and told him to shut the hell up because I was sleeping and had school in the morning.
The next morning before I went to school, I confronted Daddy. It was the first time I’d been mad at him.
“Why do you drink so much, Daddy? You know it upsets Mama.” I didn’t want to confess the truth. It upset me, too.
Daddy’s cheeks blazed. He shoveled corn flakes in his mouth, munching, stalling, or maybe he was thinking. Then he finally responded, “It shuts it out, baby girl.”
“Shuts what out?”
“The world. The voices. The voice that says you aren’t good enough to get that record deal. And when you get the deal, it quiets the voice that taunts that you can’t make the sales. And then sometimes, sometimes I feel too much; the good, the bad, the ugly from this world. I’ve gotta shut it up to numb myself. Make sense?”
I nodded. It did make sense. When Daddy first taught me to play the guitar, I’d get this feeling—it would swell up, making me feel big and small at the same time. Big, because I was creating something wild, bold, and beautiful. A gift that was mine and unique. And small because what made me so special that I could be fortunate enough to share it with the world?
I saw how Daddy and his musician friends struggled.
It was a war, a beautiful war, and sometimes you needed armor to protect yourself. Now I was starting to realize that booze wasn’t armor and, in fact, made me weak. But it was steeped so deep in my system I didn’t know how to let the poison out.
And I was scared. Scared for me, scared for my husband, scared for my babies.
“Memphis, here we come!” Davey yelled beside me, pulling me into a hug.
“You excited?” He smiled, his blue eyes dancing.
I shrugged. “Why should I be excited?”
“Oh, I don’t know. We’re coming up on the last leg of the tour, and I know you miss your family. Besides, you’ve been writing some kick-ass songs and I can’t wait to get back to the studio and record.”
The good thing about my angel and demon, whom I’d lovingly named Angie and Denny, was they talked a lot. To me and to each other. The constant push and pull for my immortal soul resulted in some deep shit, if I do say so myself.
“You made a decision yet?” Davey twirled a drumstick in his hand.
I opened up my notepad and yanked the pencil from behind my ear. I doodled a bit, hearts and rainbows and musical notes.
“C’mon, Nik.” Davey stilled my busy hand with a gentle squeeze. “You know I’m here for you, right?”
I nodded. Davey was a brother for life. He wouldn’t begrudge any decision I’d make.
“You know I want you with us, but I’ve got eyes, you know.”
“Yeah, they’re blue,” I attempted to joke.
“I mean I see you. See the way you use drinking to self-medicate. See that you check your phone every five minutes when we aren’t onstage. And I see the heartbreak on your face when you can’t say good night to your kids. That you can’t settle shit with James.”
He jerked his head toward Trent. “And I see the way that fucker looks at you.” He shook his shaven head. “He wants you and James to fail. That’s why he’s keeping you high and drunk. But you know better, Nik. You’ve gotta be stronger than him. Fuck!” He slammed the stick against his thigh.
“What?”
“Just realized something and, no, I’m not gonna tell you. You’ve gotta figure this shit out on your own.” He stood. “I’m getting a drink.”
“Oh, can I have—”
“A fucking Gatorade.”
I sighed, heat flaming my cheeks. I wasn’t that far gone. “I was going to ask for cranberry juice. That’s it. Geez, Davey.”