Girl in Love (20 page)

“Well, welcome to the party. You two are like…I don’t know. This couple that’s toxic and combustible but somehow need each other to function. And everyone can see it, Ky. And everyone can see how hard you’ve both been trying to fight it. But no one really understands why anymore.”

“You know how bad it was,” she said softly into the dimly lit cab of the truck. “You saw me…after. I can’t go back to that, Lu. I can’t be like that again.”

Her friend sighed loudly. “I know, hon. I do. And I don’t want to see you get hurt again. But unless you two plan to live on different continents, I don’t see how you can keep avoiding it.”

“He has Gretchen. And Steven and I—”

“Mess around every now and then,” Lulu finished for her. “And you’re friends. But believe me, Steven Blythe knows exactly what the two of you are and aren’t. And he’s cool with it. If you walk up to that boy tomorrow and tell him you don’t want to hook up anymore, he’d be just fine. I’m pretty sure there are plenty of girls waiting in the wings to soothe his wounded pride…among other things.”

It was the truth. She knew that. And she also knew that it should’ve bothered her, at least a little. But it didn’t.

“Okay, but that still doesn’t change the fact that I tried with Trace before. I tried hard. I put myself out there and he chose someone else. Period.”

The neon lights of a strip of fast food restaurants caught her eye so she pulled into the nearest one.

“See, that’s the thing. Mike and I have been talking,” her friend began.

“Uh, sounded like y’all were doing a whole lot more than
talking
.”

Lulu shook her head. “Let’s order our food first. I need a full stomach for this conversation.”

After they’d gotten a sack full of tacos and demolished nearly half of them on the way back to the lot the fleet was parked at, Lulu began her in-depth analysis on Kylie’s situation.

“I have a question for you. My revealing the top-secret intel I’ve uncovered is dependent upon your answer.”

“No pressure then,” Kylie said after taking a large swallow of her soda.

“Right. So here’s my question. When were you happiest? Like the absolute happiest you’ve ever been.”

Kylie tried to think while focusing on not getting lost as she drove the unfamiliar roads. “Um, happiest as in…in my entire life?”

“Ky, I don’t want to sound like an insensitive ass here, but let’s be realistic.” Lulu paused to give her friend a sympathetic smile. “Happiest as in since your dad died. At what point in your adult life have you been happy, truly happy, since then?”

The answer presented itself in Kylie’s mind in vibrant Technicolor. It was a brief period of time in her life, but it was amazing. Full. Everything since felt faded out. Even performing had lost a bit of its spark. Not that she didn’t still love it. She did. It just didn’t give her that same high it once had. She told herself that it had nothing to do with him. That the newness always wore off. It was totally normal.

“Your silence is more informative than you think,” Lulu said softly. “And honestly, I think your music is too.”

A small, sad laugh escaped her. “All my songs are about him or my dad. I didn’t even realize it until I had to pick one for the benefit.” Kylie shook her head. “So what am I supposed to do? Beg him to dump Gretchen and try again with me? I can’t, Lu. I just can’t. I don’t know what it’s like to be an alcoholic. I can’t understand him like she does. Can’t be there for him like that. I tried…He wouldn’t let me.”

“I know. I know you did.” Lulu scooted slightly closer on the bench seat. “But I think now you have some understanding of what it’s like to want something that you know you shouldn’t. Of having that want feel like a need. And that need being more powerful than reason, than sense.”

Yeah, she was a recovering Trace Corbin addict. This much she already knew. One day at a time and all that.

“Are you going to charge me for therapy sessions in addition to the stylist gig?”

Lulu regarded her with a straight face. “I’m like a bartender with a makeup brush, my friend.”

Kylie laughed. “I love you, Lu. I do. And I appreciate what you’re trying to tell me. I think deep down I know how I feel about him and that, to some extent, I’ll probably always be kind of mixed up inside where he’s concerned. But the truth is, I’ve also learned my limits. And putting my heart through that kind of hell again…It’s just not something I’m willing to do.”

Lulu sighed. “I promised Mike I wouldn’t say anything because Trace made him promise to stay out of it.” She bit her lip and then took a deep breath. “But Kylie, I think you deserve to know. Trace and Gretchen—”

Before she could finish, Kylie’s phone rang loudly in the cab. She glanced down to the center console where it was glowing. She answered and switched on the speakerphone.

“Hi, Hannah. We got tacos if you want some. What’s up?”

Her manager’s voice sounded strained when she spoke. “Um, hi. I’m good, but thank you.”

“Is everything okay?”

In the moment that the woman hesitated to answer, Kylie’s chest felt like it was seizing up. She had the strangest sensation that Hannah was about to deliver terrible news. Her traitorous heart prayed it wasn’t anything to do with Trace.

“Um, not really. Can you just get here as soon as possible?”

“Hannah, you’re freaking me out. What’s wrong? Did something happen to someone? Is someone sick or hurt? Should I call 911?”

“No, nothing like that. Just come see me when you get here, okay?”

“Okay, be there in a few.” Kylie pressed her foot down on the accelerator as she hung up the phone.

“What do you think the deal is?” Lulu asked while buckling her seatbelt.

“I have no idea. But something’s definitely up. Hannah sounded really stressed out.”

“Chick’s kind of uptight anyways. It’s probably nothing.”

Kylie nodded in agreement, but the tight bundle of nerves in her stomach didn’t feel the same way.

“I’
M TELLING
you, it was him. I saw her come out from behind the bus and then he came out right behind her. And he was adjusting his zipper. His zipper, dammit!”

“Trace, we’ve been over this. What goes on in her love life, or any aspect of her life, really, is none of our concern.”

Trace yanked his hat off and raked a hand hard through his hair before replacing it. He paced outside the bus his band road in. “Pauly, swear to God, I don’t care if it’s my concern or not. If he’s screwing a Tailgate Twin behind her back, I’ll fucking end him.”

“And what do you think that will solve, huh? You think she’ll come running back to you if you defend her honor?”

Trace sighed and leaned against the bus. “No, but at least she’ll know.”

“That her boyfriend cheats on her? How’s that helpful?”

He shook his head. “No, then she’ll know that I care about her and won’t let anyone or anything hurt her if I can help it.”

His manager frowned at him for a long minute. “I need to make a call. Promise me you’ll stay out of it for now, okay? It’s dark. He could’ve been taking a leak. Or it might not even have been him. At least wait until you know for sure.”

“Oh, I’m going to find out for sure. I’m going to go ask his sorry ass. I’ve known that kid since before he hit puberty. I’ll know if he’s lying.”

Pauly sighed. “Anything I can say or do to stop you?”

Trace was already turning to head toward Kylie’s band’s bus. “Nope.”

The entire walk over, he tried to calm his nerves. Pauly had a point. Steven could’ve been taking a leak. But there were bathrooms on the buses. Or maybe it wasn’t him. Except Trace was nearly one hundred percent positive it was.

Adrenaline pumped through him fiercely as he marched up to the bus door and rapped on it. His pulse ramped up so intensely it felt like his entire body was throbbing.

The door opened and Kylie’s drummer greeted him. “Hey, man. Come on in. Want us to deal you in?”

He didn’t bother with an answer. Because his eyes had already found their target. Steven Blythe was sitting in one of the captain’s chairs around the card table. And he was showing his cards to one of the Tailgate Twins. Not that he could’ve avoided her seeing his cards since she was on his lap and all.

“You,” was all he said. He pointed a finger at Steven and then jerked it toward the door. “Outside. Now.”

Steven’s eyes widened at the sight of Trace’s rage. But then he rolled them. “Here we go. Pistols at dawn.”

His sarcasm only served to make Trace even angrier. He was starting to wonder if he was in danger of having a heart attack.

“Be right back. Keep my seat warm, will ya?” he said to the Tailgate Twin as he shifted her off his lap.

Trace stormed off the bus and glared at the tattooed jackass as he followed him.

“Let’s have it, Corbin. Unburden yourself.”

Cocky little shit. “I’m just trying to figure out why a guy who has someone like Kylie would be screwing around with a backup dancer. I mean, do you just not care about her at all, Steven?”

“Says the guy who dropped her for trailer trash like Gibson. You’re one to talk, buddy.”

“First of all,” Trace began, squaring his shoulders and placing himself directly in Steven’s line of vision, “I didn’t drop her for anyone. And second of all, you don’t know a damn thing about Gretchen Gibson. In fact, you have no idea what the hell you’re talking about. But I’ll tell you what I know. I know what I just saw in there. And I know that no matter how cool you think you are with the band, someone in there is going to tell Kylie what you’re doing. And if she sheds a single damn tear over it, I am going to knock your fucking teeth down your throat.”

“You’re the one who doesn’t know what the hell you’re talking about. And you know why that is? It’s because you weren’t here. You ended things with her. Remember?” When Trace didn’t respond, Steven continued. “You left the rest of us to pick up the pieces. Which we did. And just when she’s getting over it and really moving on with her life, suddenly you want to tour together? For the sake of your
career.
Right. Then you come in acting all ‘knight in shining armor’ and making me the bad guy. If that’s what helps you sleep at night, Corbin, you do what you gotta do. I’m going back to my card game.”

“The fuck you are.” Trace grabbed his shoulder. “I’m not done here.”

“Well, I am.” Steven shrugged Trace’s hand off. “And I’m telling you right now, man, I’m done with this bullshit game the two of you play. I grew up looking up to you, wanting to be like you. But you put your hands on me again or hit me like that shit you pulled before, I’ll hit your ass right back. I don’t care how she feels or doesn’t feel about you.”

Steven turned around and left Trace simmering in his own anger. He was just about to march right back up onto that bus and coldcock Steven Blythe to get his point across when he saw Mike running toward his bus.

He threw his hands up in an attempt to ask Mike what the hell was going on but he didn’t stop.

Mike jerked his head so Trace followed.

“Why are we jogging to my bus?” he asked when he caught up to Mike.

“Olivia texted me. Said it was an emergency.”

It took Trace a second to realize that
Olivia
was Kylie’s friend that she called Lu. Once they arrived at the bus he stopped and stared at his friend. “Whoa, seriously? Dude, you have sex with her once and suddenly you’re her beck and call boy?”

Mike gave him a strange look. “That was round three, brother. Not that I’m counting. But no, I was running because she said it was an emergency involving Kylie and I didn’t know if it was, like, medical or what. Or if they just maybe wanted to have a threesome.” He shrugged, and Trace stared him down.

“You know I’d kill you, right?”

“You know I’m kidding. Mostly. But something is definitely up. Something about Kylie’s mom or something?” He looked as confused as Trace felt.

It made zero sense. Kylie’s mom had died when she was a little kid. That much he knew.

Aw hell.
The fucking stepmom. He’d met her. She was a nightmare. If she was here giving Kylie a hard time, he was going to have police escort her off the premises.

He followed Mike onto the bus and reeled at the difference between the atmosphere on her band’s party bus and the somber one on his.

Lulu sat behind Kylie as she watched the television screen. Hannah was finishing connecting the laptop to it. A recorded interview with Kylie’s stepmom, a busty blonde woman who wore entirely too much makeup, was playing.

Trace watched the screen as a table full of women who couldn’t shut up fawned over Kylie’s bitch of a stepmother. They mentioned her
bestselling
novel and her insight on the
real
Kylie Ryans.

He turned away from the screen and watched the parade of emotions marching across her face. She was working hard to keep them from showing, but Trace knew how to read her eyes. Her pain was on a steady loop.

Anger. Hurt. Sadness. Anger again. Disgust. Disbelief. And repeat.

“Turn it up, please, Han,” Kylie said evenly.

“Kylie,” he began, but she just shook her head without looking at him.