Backstage Pass: On Tour (The Backstage Pass Rock Star Romance) (3 page)

I woke to a text from Kerri that she’d made it and several from Jesse. I blinked and did the math; almost eighteen hours. I sighed and rolled over onto my back. Even in the hospital, I hadn’t gotten a straight shot like that. Someone was always coming in and checking on me, or my vitals, or on the frigging equipment. I felt better than I had in a long time. Not great, but better.

I had no idea what M
om’s schedule was while I was home or if she was working the entire time, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to face her yet. I flopped my arm over my eyes. What an insane life.

I’d barely come to terms
with being without Jesse, and then he was back. I’d barely come to terms with the baby, and then we lost it. It seemed like no matter what cropped up in my life, I only had a few glances to grasp what was going on before everything changed again.

And now this
: back home again. With a body that wanted to resist getting better at every turn, it seemed. Even though my doctors hadn’t said so, I knew they were troubled by my recovery plateau. I hadn’t wanted to say anything about it when my release had been hanging in the balance, but the internet is a fantastic thing and I’d spent more than a few late nights researching recovery times. I’d found a whole lot of articles and blogs about mental blocks impeding recovery.

Was that what I was doing? I mean, if anyone had a setup for a mental block, I had to be pretty high on the list of
candidates. But what did I gain by not getting better? A couple weeks in my childhood bed? Not such a treat. I couldn’t think of a single advantage to being here. Other than maybe the food, but that had never been a big motivator for me so that didn’t make enough sense to cause a blockage.

And Jesse and I had been back on a strong road. Getting laid up and staying that way just screwed up getting to spend time with him.

I stared at the ceiling. Maybe that was why they called it a block, because it was too big to see and it blocked my vision of it.

I sighed and sat up.
Easing out my door, I paused and listened but the house sounded empty. Good.

I could use a single day of no chitchatting, updates, or plans. Today I wanted to be nothing, just a lump taking up space. I made my way down to the kitchen, poured a bowl of cereal—smiling at the selection of all my favorites in the pantry—and curled up on the couch. I’d watched too much mindless TV in the hospital and the silence was nice. I stared out the window and tried not to think about what I wanted to do next. I wanted to just let things happen today and roll with them. Maybe that would help loosen my block
.

No matter what, I couldn’t get out of PT. That giant gorilla would text me at noon to make sure I’d already finished. But that was as far as I was going to let my planning go.

I put my bowl in the sink and went back upstairs, totally logging the two flights as part of PT. Take that, gorilla boy. I pulled on a tank, running shorts and my running shoes, then headed back down stairs, logging the third flight. I was going to have this knocked out in no time.

The weather was nice, so I went out on the back patio and
did my stretches, then went through the rest of my exercises until sweat ran off my body in rivers. By the time I was done, I hated Drake with a passion. Before he could text me and check up on me, I sent him one, calling him four names.

He quickly sent back a reply:
Good girl. I expect five names tomorrow.

I stuck my tongue out at the phone, then answered Jesse and Kerri.
Neither one of them answered so I designed a mini plan: walk through the neighborhood, then come back and check my texts.

Walking woul
d give me extra credit on my PT and was supposed to keep everything loose and the healing blood flowing. I figured it wouldn’t kill me and would give me something to do. I wasn’t opposed to spending the afternoon on the couch.

I managed to waste an
hour wandering around town and by the time I got home I was beyond exhausted so I decided to lay down again and I took a nap.

Mom woke me with a gentle hand on my shoulder.
“Hi.”

I smiled and sat up on the couch. “Hey.”

She rocked back on her heels and sat on the ottoman beside the bench. “Sorry I wasn’t here when you got up.”

I shrugged. “No biggie. I know you have stuff to do. I did my PT and went for a walk.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Good.”

“Hungry?”

Was this how our conversations were going to go for the next however long it took me to be fully
recovered? Because if so, holy crapballs. I’d be insane and out of here before the week was out. “Sure.” I stood. “Can I help?”

She glanced at the clock. “That would be great.”

We worked together in the kitchen, finding an easy working style—if a mostly silent one—and had dinner on the table a few minutes before Dad came home. It seemed too strange to be back in time like this, to back before college, and Kerri, and Jesse.

Dad managed to be the
foundation that Mom and I had been missing every time we talked and we fell into our old, easy rhythm and for the first time I felt like I could breathe. He grilled me on my PT and what I was doing and how many, and how long, and who I was reporting to; on and on. I didn’t mind though. The way he questioned me had always held such an awesome undercurrent of true concern.

“And that Jesse character?”

I fidgeted in my seat, knowing Mom was hanging on my every breath. “Um, things are still good.”

“He made a full recovery?”

“Yeah,” I scooped another helping of mashed potatoes onto my plate. “He’s already back at work.”

“And your mother tells me he’s a rocker.”

Again, I heard the concern and I tried to be mellow with my answer but they weren’t making this easy. I knew Mom had shared her own perspective on this one, and it wasn’t like these two didn’t have a serious history where rock and roll was concerned.

I took a spoonful of mashed potatoes to buy some time. I didn’t want
to get in a heated debate but at the same time I really wanted them to like Jesse. Mom had only met him the one time when we’d driven to the hospital for Dad’s heart attack and she’d liked him just fine then. But she hadn’t exactly had all her wits about her either. Dad was way too reserved to pass judgment after just one meeting. He was going to take less convincing because he wasn’t going to believe anything I said and he’d want to meet Jesse himself and make a personal call. I also thought he was a lot less clouded than Mom was. Even though he knew all about Rocker Dad, he’d still come into the picture after Mom and I had been on our own for a while.

I swallowed and set my spoon down. “Ainsley actually picked him up as a client when we were all here last time. She’s got them home now for a bit, but they’re headed back out on tour.
”

He nodded. “And
you're okay with that?”

I
shrugged. “I’m trying to be. We’re not sure how to make this work, just that we want to.”

He wiped his mouth with his napkin and set it next to his plate. “I suppose you do still have some school to finish, so there’s time.”

I hid my smile because I knew he was going to pay for that one when Mom got him alone. I finished off my last bite of mashed potatoes and kept my attention on my plate.

“What?” He looked over at her and I was pretty sure she had “that face” on and he was wise to pay attention.

“Nothing. We’ll talk about it later.” She stood and picked up our plates and Dad leapt out of his chair.

“No, no. I’ve got this. You girls cooked. Besides,
Sasha looks bushed. Do you want some coffee? I can make some.”

I smiled and pushed my chair back.
“No, thanks. But if it’s okay, I’m going to go up and shower.” I wanted to give them some time to talk about my situation and for Mom to give him a piece of her mind, or whatever she was thinking of giving him.

“Fine.”
Mom stomped off to the kitchen and I didn’t want to be anywhere near this explosion.

I cl
imbed the stairs to my bedroom—counting it as therapy, of course—and stripped on my way to the bathroom. I turned on the water, twisted the knob as hot as I thought I could stand it and eased into the bathtub.

The water pounded my body and the steam started to infiltrate my brain. I l
et my head fall back against the tile and pondered my situation for what felt like the thousandth time.

My phone vibrated on the counter where I
’d left it and for a second I thought about letting it go to voicemail. But if it was Jesse there was no telling when I’d get to talk to him again. I reached up and patted around with my wet hand until my fingers found my phone and I tried to juggle it and not drop it in the water.

It was him and I couldn’t help but smile as I answered. “Hi.”

He sighed loudly. “Oh, baby, you have no idea how good it is to hear your voice.”

I ducked my head. “Yeah, if it’s anything like hearing yours, I think it’s pretty wonderful.”

“I miss you.”

“Sing to m
e?” I wasn’t sure what had made me ask, maybe it was being back in my room with all my old music stuff, or just that his singing had been such a constant undertone of our relationship. But I wanted to hear it. Needed to hear it. “I mean, if you have time . . .”

“Always. I always have time to sing to you.”

I smiled.

“Are you in a bathroom? Your voice has an echo.”

“Taking a bath.”

“Well that’s about the sexiest thought I’ve had all day. Turn your phone on speaker, the acoustics in there will be awesome.”

“Plus then I can’t drop you in the water.”

“Mmm. No place I’d rather be.”

I giggled like a school girl. I loved this teasing horny side of him; it reminded me of where we’d been in the very beginning. “Hold on.” I hit the speaker button, set my phone on the edge of the tub, and sunk down in the water. “Ready. What are you singing me?”

“I just finished one of the new ones. No one’s heard it yet. Tell me what you think.”

“Okay.”

His sultry tones filled the room, drenching me in the emotion and wonder of his voice. I could listen to him all day. My body responded instantly and I wished he were here singing it to me
in person. It was a beautiful song with sorrowful lyrics. And a sure-fire hit. I loved that he was getting to do what he loved and was truly pursuing his dream. We’d become good enough friends that I wanted that for him no matter what. Obviously I wanted to be there to share in all of this with him, but even if we didn’t figure out a way to make this work—and that was not me letting in any negativity, just being totally okay with whatever the future held because I couldn’t keep worrying about it. We were going to be fine either way.

He was about to rocket into the universe of stardom, wit
h or without me, and I couldn’t be happier for him. I wanted to support him in this, so very very much. And if that meant that my stuff either sat on the back burner or if our relationship looked a little different than how I’d imagined it, then so what? As long as we were together during the ride, then that was really all that mattered.

Gosh, it had taken me so much heartache to get that figured out.

Now I just had to get my mom to back off so we could have the breathing and stretching room we needed.

The song finished and the last note hung in the air, suspended so perfectly that I felt like I could have reached out and touched it.

“Well?”

“Um, holy shit?”

He laughed. “Is that good?”

I grabbed the phone and took it off speaker, cradling it to my ear just above the danger zone of the water.
“Honey, it’s freaking fantastic. Is that your first single?”

“Do you think it should be?”

“Well I haven’t heard the other stuff yet, but that was amazing. I think you should release it today!”

He laughed. “Not sure we’re quite ready, but text me your mom’s address and I’ll shoot you the demo that we cut today.
Listen to all of them.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, if you want to.”

“I do.” I really did. Even if he wasn’t my guy, I’d still be standing in line to buy his music.

“Okay, good.” I could hear the smile and pride in his voice. It seemed like we were both coming to the same conclusion that we were super good for each other and that any version of our relationship was what mattered, not some “official” version that was ridiculous and impossible to live up to anyway. “Listen, and tell me which one you think should be the first single. I agree that we should use that one, but Ainsley wants a different one.”

“Well, she would know.”

I heard his shrug through the phone. “Maybe. But I still think I’m the smartest person when it comes to my career. Yeah, she’s super excellent, but we’re the ones interacting with our fans online and in all the chat rooms and backstage. They’re telling us what we want and a few thousand of them have commented on the YouTube channel that this is the kind of song they want. I’m worried about losing the momentum.”