“Because you like being in pain?” I asked, trying to understand.
“No.” She gulped. “Look, it’s not a big deal. I just got out of a really bad relationship, and my ex abused pills a lot. He stole my pain meds last year when I had mouth surgery, and ever since, I just…I look at them and I think about his addiction. The way he always justified it like he could stop at any time. He was a lot of things, but he got a lot worse when it went from a pill here or there to stealing stashes and purchasing them from friends, you know?”
Stunned, I just stared at her. “I know you don’t know me or trust me, but I would never do that. You know that, right? The guys and I, we’re all clean. We have a no-drug policy. Hell, we don’t even smoke pot, and it’s legal.”
“Yeah, well.” She crossed her arms, and that’s when I noticed she was shaking.
Shit.
I grabbed the pills and sat down next to her, then put a hand on her thigh. “I know a little about trauma.” Shit, was I really going there? Apparently. “I also know that if you ignore it, it just gets worse. I mean, look at me. I literally ran off stage and took the first flight out because of supposed stage fright, when we all know the real reason I bailed. The real reason I couldn’t keep singing.”
The room fell silent.
She reached for my hand and squeezed it. “You don’t have to tell me, you know.”
“I know, which almost makes me want to tell you.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “The thing about trauma is that, during it, you’re just trying to survive. After, you have so much adrenaline pumping through your system that you don’t even realize you’re injured mentally or physically. And then when you start to heal, that’s when the real pain starts. It’s during the healing that you realize you aren’t okay. I will one hundred percent go dump these in the toilet if it makes you feel uncomfortable, but I also don’t think you should be afraid of something that’s supposed to make you feel better. When we’re sick, we take medicine, right? I don’t want you sitting here in pain all night when you could get some sleep and start to heal.”
“I get it. I know how ridiculous it sounds. I just… I think about swallowing a pill and then I think about him getting high,” she admitted.
“Well, then maybe you don’t swallow,” I offered and then smirked. “I meant the pill, by the way.”
She burst out laughing and squeezed my hand. “What did you have in mind?”
I shook my head and stared into her eyes. “You don’t want to know all the things on my mind right now.”
Her tongue peeked out to lick her lower lip. I wanted to capture that mouth and force it to surrender to my kiss.
Instead, I said, “I’ll crush up the pill and put it in peanut butter. That way you’re eating it, not just swallowing something bitter. You’re getting something nourishing, all right?”
She gave me a wary stare. “Maybe.”
I opened up the container and dumped the pills onto the table then counted them out loud. I reached for one of the craft markers and wrote on the outside the number fifteen.
“All right, I’m taking this one right here.” I held it up. “And since the kitchen is right there, you can watch my amazing doctor skills as I chef up this bad boy. Every time you take one, use the marker, take back that control. All right?”
I handed her the marker and stood.
We didn’t talk as I crushed her pill and added it to some peanut butter.
When I walked back over to the couch and sat, she looked up at me with moisture in her eyes. “If I take this, I want something in return.”
“Hmmm…wasn’t aware we were still negotiating.”
Her bright smile was going to inspire a ballad someday, I just knew it. “One trigger. Tell me one trigger on stage relating to the incident.”
“Oh, so something easy,” I joked.
She put her hand on mine and squeezed, so I spoke. “The people. The biggest trigger is the people. All the excited faces, paying to listen to me sing, paying for a good time. And then I see all the faces that aren’t with us anymore, all the people I failed because I didn’t provide a safe place for them. So, you see…” I handed her the spoonful of peanut butter. “That’s why I’m a little bit hopeless, even for you. They want me on tour, the record company wants me on tour, but a tour means people, and I can’t perform knowing I could let them down again. I can’t sing about love saving a soul when the very song inspired hatred. I just can’t. All it took was a light falling and a superfan waiting for me to mess me up again.”
She put the spoon into her mouth and took the peanut-buttered pill then said, “Sure you can. Just like I ate instead of swallowed. We need to find a way to look at those faces in the crowd and use it as inspiration, not see it as failure.”
I gulped. “I wish I knew how.”
“That’s why you have me,” she said softly.
I looked up into her blue eyes and sighed. “Promise?”
She nodded her head. “Promise.”
Chapter Eight
Piper
He was right.
After about twenty minutes, the pill performed its magic, and I started to feel a little bit better.
Braden continued attempting his glitter music notes, and then he made us sandwiches for dinner. I didn’t even ask, didn’t need to; he just did things because he was good. I didn’t realize how starved I’d been for a partner until Braden. It was absolutely terrifying, knowing my heart already hurt when I thought about leaving him or him going on tour.
The pill made me doze off for a few hours, and before I knew it, the lights were off, and Braden was sitting next to me on the couch. My feet were in his lap, and he was slowly examining the injured one like a doctor would.
“Am I gonna make it?” I said groggily.
“You’re awake.” He glanced over at me. “Sorry, I just wanted to make sure that you weren’t having a reaction. The sting actually looks a lot better, and your foot hasn’t swollen any more.”
“Good.” I yawned. “What time is it?”
“Time for Netflix without the chill.” He winked.
I liked my feet in his lap way too much. “I’m sure you’ll survive. Besides, I’ve never really understood that phrase anyways. I mean, if I’m watching something good on Netflix, I’d be pissed if some guy just shoved his tongue down my throat and decided to get me naked.”
Braden gave me a sharp look. “I’d be pissed too. One doesn’t shove their tongue anywhere. That’s like bulldozing a kiss, and a kiss changes based on the environment.”
“I’m the one on drugs, right?”
He smirked. “Seriously. I mean, think about it. If you’re having a moment, you don’t just go for it, you lean in.” He grabbed my hand and held it close to his face as his mouth lowered, his eyes locked on mine. “And you very lightly brush your lips across.” He did exactly that, making my entire body erupt with goose bumps.
“O-oh.” I gulped.
“Though…” He dropped my hand. “Sometimes there’s nothing better than just angry, aggressive kissing. But in this instance, I’d probably just knock all the glitter to the floor, which would be a bitch to clean up later. But I’d be so in the moment, I wouldn’t care. I’d grip you by the ass and push you down onto the coffee table so I had the perfect angle.”