Heartstrings (9 page)

“Come on,” he says, ignoring my jibe, “I know the best diner
in the entire world, and it’s right around here.”

I let him lead me out of the dilapidated pool hall. As we
step out into the bright sunlight, the place doesn’t seem like such a wreck
after all. I try to imagine what Slade must have looked like, hauling an amp
across the parking lot and into the space. He’d been so young at the start, I
knew. I wish I could have known him then, comforted him when things were at
their worst. I’m glad he had his band mates there at least. As we got into the
car, the pool hall looked more like a shrine than a dump. I guess jumping to
conclusions about anything, or anyone was a pretty bad idea. One look at Slade
and I was sure—there was no use trying to judge a person without getting to
know them first.

The diner was extremely close by—across the highway, to be
exact. It was a rundown red and chrome kind of place, with neon lettering and
everything. I smiled as we made our way to the front door. This was the
quintessential Jersey diner, right here. We stepped into the restaurant and
found ourselves face to face with a wall full of Slades. I did a double take
and saw that the entire space was covered in newspaper and magazine clippings
of my rock star escort. Some of the articles were many years old, from local
newspapers, and others were brand new.

“You’re something of a regular here, huh?” I ask.

“You could say that,” he says, leading me to the closest
booth.

A wide set woman with kind eyes comes our way, her pile of
gray hair bobs as she moves. As she stops in front of our booth, her mouth
falls open. In one swift movement, she’s gathered Slade up into her arms. She
gives him the tightest squeeze I’ve ever seen and starts to talk a mile a
minute into his ear.

“You’re back! I’m so glad you’re back, Slade, it’s been far
too long. I heard you’d be in town soon, and I so hoped that you would stop by
and visit. Are you getting enough to eat out there? You don’t have a scrap of
fat on you in any of the pictures I’ve seen in the magazines. How are the
others? Has Joe gotten any better with his temper? I always said, that boy was
going to end up in prison or on the covers of magazines, and lo and behold!”

“Maggie,” Slade interjects, forcing the woman to pause.
“This is Julia.”

The waitress looks me over, scrutinizing my appearance. “Hello
Julia,” she says politely, “Are you one of Slade’s...fans?”

“I was Slade’s nurse for a couple of days,” I tell her.

“Oh!” the waitress exclaims happily, “Good! I thought you
might be some dirty groupie, or something.”

“Not quite,” I grin.

“What were you in the hospital for?” Maggie says, concerned.

“Just took a nasty spill at one of my concerts,” Slade says,
“I’m fine, Maggie. Julia took good care of me.”

“That’s wonderful,” Maggie smiles, “This one needs a little
looking after. He’d be the last one to ever admit it, of course, proud young
man that he is. Why don’t I get you two some grub?”

“The usual would be great,” Slade says, sitting back down,
“And a pot of coffee for Julia.”

Maggie bustles off toward the kitchen, and I shake my head
in wonder. “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” I ask.

“What do you mean?” Slade says, leaning toward me on his
elbows.

“You’re a rock star,” I say, “You’re supposed to be a
womanizing, arrogant asshole with no regard for anyone but yourself. But here
you are, revisiting childhood haunts and charming old ladies...”

“What can I say?” he asks, “I’m an enigma.”

“So this is the real Slade Hale?” I ask, “Not the jerk in my
hospital bed who wouldn’t give me a break, not the heartbreaker the tabloids
love to talk about?”

“Who’s to say what’s real?” he ponders airily.

“You’re philosophizing again,” I say, “But I want an
answer.”

He sighs heavily. “How am I supposed to know who the real
Slade is?” he asks. “Do you know who the real Julia is?”

“Sure,” I say.

“OK,” he says, “So is it the uptight nurse who doesn’t want
a thing out of place, the sweet young woman who will hold a guy’s hand to make
him feel better, or the rebellious soul going off on adventures with a guy she
barely knows?”

“Well...they’re all the real me,” I say.

“So, you see my point,” he says. “We’re not so different,
you and I.”

Before I can say anything, Maggie comes back to our table
with a heaping tray of food. She puts a big carafe of coffee down, two heaping
plates of fries, and two sandwiches loaded with meat, cheese, and everything in
between.

“Let me guess,” I say, “The sandwich is named after you?”

“How did you guess?” he smiles, and dollops nearly an entire
bottle of ketchup onto his plate.

“What’s in it?” I ask, eyeing my sandwich.

“The easier question to answer would be what isn’t in it,”
Slade says. “Just try it. If you don’t like it, you never have to see me again
as long as we live.”

“That is a daring proposition,” I say.

“Come on,” he says, “For me?”

That does it, of course. I wrap my hands around the gigantic
sandwich. It’s a pretty big departure from my usual diet of hospital cafeteria
fruit salads and coffee. I heft the thing up to my mouth and take as big a bite
as I can manage.

“Oh my god...” I say, once I’ve managed to swallow.

“Amazing, right?” he says. “I’m not only a musical genius,
I’m a culinary one as well.”

“Were there...mozzarella sticks in there?” I ask in wonder.

“Among other things,” he says.

“You’ve opened my eyes,” I say, “I will be eternally indebted
to you after this.”

We dig into our food. I didn’t realize how hungry I really
was. I have an entire shift behind me, plus a pseudo-concert/spirit quest
behind me at this point. I deserve a great big diner breakfast, I think. I lift
another delectable fry to my mouth and catch Slade watching me gleefully.

“What is it?” I ask.

“This is just...very nice,” he says, “I haven’t had a quiet
morning like this in a really long time.”

“I’d imagine not,” I say, “On the road, and all.”

“Not just on the road. While we’re recording, too. Even when
I’m not technically working. Everything’s gotten pretty fast paced for me.”

“I guess you kind of got forced into taking a break, when
your chivalry turned into injury,” I say, taking a sip of coffee.

“Well, I’d get kicked in the gut all over again,” he says,
“It was worth it.”

“Being able to take a break, you mean?” I ask.

“That,” he says, “And getting the chance to meet you.”

I feel a warm flush creeping into my cheeks. The unspoken
attraction that’s been hanging between us since the hospital is finally being
given a name. The elephant in the room is getting its day in the spotlight,
after all. I suddenly feel panicked—I haven’t been this attracted to anyone
since...ever. What comes after you admit to something like this? I’m terrified,
but I can’t stop it now.

“I’m glad I happened to be there when you got in,” I tell
him. “I’ll admit, I was a little judgmental at first...”

“
No
,” he says sarcastically, widening his eyes.

“But you’ve grown on me,” I tell him, ignoring his
shenanigans.

“You’ve grown on me, too,” he says, “But you didn’t have to
work as hard.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“You’re a nurse,” he says, “I was predisposed to like you
from the start.”

“Ugh. Don’t tell me this is all just some fetish thing,” I
moan.

He gives a little laugh. “No, no,” he says, “It’s just...” I
can tell it’s hard for him to continue. “When my dad had his accident, the
nurses at the hospital were amazing. I don’t know what we would have done
without them. They didn’t just do everything they could for me, but they were
there for my mom and my sisters...and me. I have more respect for you guys than
anyone else in the world.”

I stare at him, dumbfounded. No wonder he was always
stressing how important my job was. The image of ten year old Slade being
comforted as he was told his dad wasn’t going to make it brings hot, stinging
tears to my eyes. I reach across the table and take his hand. Our eyes lock,
and for a moment it feels like we were the only two people in the world. We
don’t speak, we just sit with each other, connected in a deeper way than I
could have ever expected.

Maggie bustles straight into our moment of connectivity to
give us the bill. Slade gives her about five times more than he owes and we
head back to the car. We drive back toward Philly in silence, our hands clasped
firmly. I couldn’t believe how intimate it feels just to hold his hand. I’ve
slept with people before and not felt as connected to them as I feel to Slade
now. Eventually, we pull up in front of my little house. It’s late afternoon by
the time we get there, but I don’t have to work tonight. I’ve been up for
nearly twenty four hours, and I desperately need some shut eye. But still, as
Slade walks me to my door, I don’t want him to go. My tired, weary body is still
sparking with desire for him.

We stand on my front stoop. I’m fidgeting with my keys,
trying to work up the nerve to invite him in again. He’s looking down at me
with a kind, knowing intensity. I can tell he wants what I do. I can just feel
it.

“I know you’re probably exhausted,” he says, “But we’re
playing a show tonight. A real show. I want you to be there.”

“In the audience?” I ask.

“Backstage,” he says.

“I...OK,” I say. I have to give myself over to this insane
twist in my life. I can’t say no to an opportunity like this. I can’t say no to
Slade. “Thank you for showing me all that today,” I say. “The pool hall, the
diner, everything you told me. I feel like—”

But my words fall away as Slade’s strong hands land on my
hips, circling around the small of my back. He pulls me to him, and I lift my
hands to his broad shoulders. As if by instinct, I tilt my face toward his, and
lean heavily against him as his lips come down on mine. His strong, firm mouth
moves against my own, and I feel his tongue slide against mine. Our mouths move
together, and I try my best to memorize the taste of him. He pulls away just an
inch and looks down into my flushed face.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he smiles, stepping away from me.

I watch him walk away, the feel of his lips lingering on my
skin. By some miracle, I manage to get the front door open, trudge upstairs,
and collapse onto my bed. Sleep rushes in to claim me for a few short hours,
before my next stint as a rock star’s groupie.

Chapter Six

* * * * *

My sleep is filled with thoughts of Slade. My imagination
runs through dozens of scenarios, each sexier than the last. I think of how
wonderful it would feel to give myself over to him, to trust my body to his the
way we’ve already begun to trust our hearts. It’s a wonder that I even manage
to sleep a wink, I’m so excited for what comes next. Thank god for days
off—though I’m sure this will all catch up with me eventually. I try not to
think about what happens once this ride is over. If I’m honest with myself, I
don’t want it to ever end.

When I open my eyes, the sky is dusky. Evening has just
rolled around. Though I’ve only gotten a few hours of sleep, my entire body
feels energized. Slade’s kiss electrified every cell in my body. I need to feel
that spark again, to feel it build inside of me as our bodies come together. If
just one kiss has me craving Slade like this, what will happen when we...? If
we...? It’s almost too much to think about. I’ve never wanted anyone like this
before. Before, being with a guy has always felt like settling. But this is a
whole different story.

I look helplessly at my closet, rifling through my clothes for
anything appropriate that I might wear. My current cut off and tank top
ensemble is fine, but I want to wear something that will really knock Slade
out. I realize, looking through an endless series of sundresses, that I need to
call in a professional. I rummage through my purse and pull out my cell phone.
I punch in Penny’s number and listen to the phone as it rings.

“Julia?” says a sleepy voice on the other end of the line.
“What’s up?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” I say. “Forget about
it.”

“Well, I’m up now,” she grumbles. “What do you need?”

“Uh...” I start, “So, the thing is. Um. About Slade...”

“What about Slade?” Penny asks. I can hear her piqued
interest through the phone.

“Well, he didn’t exactly bounce as abruptly as we thought,”
I say. “When I got home from my shift...He was waiting at my house, to say
good—”

My words are cut off by a loud, shrill screech blaring
across the line. Penny is just a little bit excited for me, as it would happen.
She’s letting loose with disjointed, ecstatic syllables, none of which I can
make out. I smile into the phone—there’s nothing quite like Penny’s enthusiasm
to get a girl riled about something.