The Problem With Heartache (17 page)

“Can’t you?” I asked, biting my lip. It was bad enough that this was the third time I’d ever seen one; this couldn’t be the third time I touched one, too.

Sam shook his head, and it appeared we were at an impasse until I thought of the one person who I knew wouldn’t be uncomfortable dealing with this. I scanned the room, and saw just the person I was looking for coming back from the ladies room, her arm linked with one of the dancers. “Lottie!”

She slowly looked over, a smile in her eyes, and skipped to my side.

“Can you …?” I jerked my head in the direction of Lee’s pelvis. Lottie shrugged and leant forward, fiddling with … his bits. “Sorry to bother you, I just—well, it’s not my place, you know?” I played with the hem of my dress, the brand new black one Stacey had gotten me as a going away present. “And I figure if anyone would be comfortable with tucking his bits away, it would be you. You know, being a stylist and all. Hell, I’m probably sure you do it all the time, and—”

“Kate.” Lottie fixed her gaze on mine. Her lips were in a thin line now, as if she were unimpressed with the whole situation. “It’s done. Are you gonna make sure he gets home with Sam?”

I swallowed. Was my nervousness that obvious? “Yes,” I squeaked.

“Good. I’ll see you in the morning then.” She raised her eyebrows and swayed her hips as she strolled back to the girl I’d called her away from. She gave me a tiny wave, and I waved back then returned my attention to the problem man at hand.

Sam and I lifted Lee up and walked to the back of the club’s service entrance. I saw two cameras flash as we did, but they were just idiots with their iPhones, and Sam let Lee rest against my shoulder, his head lulling from side to side, while he went and talked to a guy behind the bar. Just before the doors closed I saw one of the venue security team members walk over and demand the pictures were deleted. I smiled. I guess that was why you went to all the trouble of having a private area.

We got to the car with only two paparazzo seeing us, but Sam just opened the car door and ushered us in. I didn’t see any flashes of light, but I held my hand up to my face to protect myself, just in case. Then Sam drove off, whizzing through the quiet late-night streets, and we headed to our hotel.

My eyes were fixed on the lights of the city as we sped past. It was a different country, and yet it felt like home; something about the familiar takeaway joints, the high- and low-rise buildings, the giant intersections … it all screamed of familiarity.

Stacey had said it would be like this. She’d said I’d feel at home. It just surprised me how easy that feeling would be to come by, especially when by being in this new place I was abandoning people I loved; people I held dear.

A new wave of guilt washed over me, this time not for Lachlan, but for Johhny. I’d left him to cope with his grief alone, and hadn’t even sent him a text, not once in three weeks.

I grabbed my cell and typed out a quick message.

Me:
Hey Johnny, how you doing? Hope everything is going good, and you’re happy, and life is just … good! How’s Leslie? And …

My mind flashed blank. Before Lachlan’s death, Johnny and I had always had an easy friendship. It was a no-brainer; the kind you didn’t have to think about.

Now, things were tricky.

Now, words had extra meaning.

Me:
Anyway, I’m going okay. On tour in America with Lee, the guy who played at the—you know who Lee is.

Anyway, just wanted to say I’m thinking of you.

I didn’t type out ‘and Lachlan.’ Sometimes, words were better left unsaid.

We pulled up to the hotel a few short minutes later and Sam helped me rouse Lee, who had once again dozed off after jerking his head up at the traffic lights, his neck at a rather uncomfortable-looking side angle, his jaw hanging open.

We stood in the lift, both of us with one of Lee’s arms over our shoulder, and now I had an extended knowledge of exactly how important it was that the hotels we stayed at had service entrances and exits. There was no way behaviour like this would get by unnoticed in a regular lift. It had
public scandal
and
gossip magazine
written all over it.

When the doors finally pinged open and we hit the top floor, Sam helped me take Lee to his door and then, using the spare key I already had from reception—to make sure I could get the boys up if need be, after the banging-on-door-waiting-five-minutes incident of the week prior—we entered his suite, depositing Lee on the couch.

“Wow.” Sam gave a low whistle under his breath. He wasn’t wrong. This room screamed opulence, from its floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a stunning view of the city at night, to the plush white carpet, to the elegantly tasteful white lounges, all done in a firm leather with gold trim. I had never been somewhere with so much
money
attached in my entire life.

“I’ll be going then.” Sam dipped his head at me and walked for the door.

“Yes.” I nodded, checking my handbag was still laced over my shoulder. “Me too.”

“I thought you were going to stay.” Sam furrowed his brow at me. The breath escaped from my throat, and I was certain my skin turned pale. My heart thudded in my chest and all of a sudden I was overcome with excuses, desperate to get them out before Sam thought this was all a part of an evil plan by me to seduce the lead singer of Coal.

“I don’t even like him like that. I … I think he’s cute, but this was about me making sure he was okay, not trying to get him into—”

“Kate.” Sam held out his palm in a stop signal. “I meant to make sure he’s all right. You know, in case he chokes on his own vomit or something.”

That feeling, how bad it was when I’d thought Sam thought I was seducing Lee?

That.
Only a thousand times worse.

“Yeah …” My voice was so quiet, Sam leaned in to hear it. “That’s what I meant, too.”

I saw him out and shut the door behind him, resting my head against it as I berated myself for what an idiot I’d been. Seriously. Dumb.

After a few minutes, I sucked in a deep breath.
Get it together, Kate. Do your job.

I walked down the hall of the suite into the master bedroom and opened the closet doors, searching for a blanket. I couldn’t find one, except for a small thing that looked as if it would cover less skin than a robe, so instead I tugged the white, airy linen from the king-sized bed, trailing it over my shoulder and back into the living room. I draped it over Lee’s body, my hand lingering a little over his sweaty bicep before I tucked the edge of the blanket into the couch.

Next, I walked into the kitchen and poured a giant glass of water from the tap and grabbed some ibuprofen from my purse, then, just before I headed back to Lee, I grabbed a large-sized bowl from under the sink. As much as I wanted to believe that rock stars, like Santa Claus, didn’t spew, I’d rather be safe than sorry.

“Lee.” I extended a hesitant finger and poked him in the shoulder. “Wake up.”

“Ugghrhnmmm.” He rolled to his back and promptly started snoring. Fabulous.
Way to kill the dream, buddy.

“Lee.” My voice was louder, a little more insistent. Seriously, if he didn’t drink this water he was going to feel even more like shit in the morning than he probably did right now.

Finally he opened one eye, and it locked on mine. Even though he was drunk, even though he smelt kind of as if he’d gone for a swim in a vat of bourbon, his eye was still a bright, bright blue, the kind of searing colour that is forever etched in your brain.

“Kate.” He managed the word, and a lazy arm extended from his body, reaching up to brush down my cheek. “You’re looking after me.”

“Sure am.” I pressed the glass of water to his lips. “Drink, please.”

He pushed himself up onto one elbow and took four huge gulps, then collapsed back onto the couch as if the effort had exhausted him.

“Do you want some ibuprofen?” I took the glass away and placed it on the coffee table beside me, then sat cross-legged on the floor, my gaze in line with Lee’s.

“No.” His voice was surprisingly coherent, but I didn’t really buy it. You don’t go from passed out to sober in a second.

“Okay.” We sat in silence for a while, and I wondered if I should go back to my room. We were staying at the same hotel; I was just a short ten floors down, and not in a suite so much as a single room. In fact, if Lee’s room were a grand piano, mine would be an accordion. A broken one.

I pushed to my feet, and just as I took a step forward a hand gripped around my wrist. I looked down to Lee’s wide-open eyes.

“Stay.”

My head wanted me to leave. My heart was torn in two. But I was starting to feel things for this man, things I couldn’t ignore, and in that moment he was just a normal guy who’d had too much to drink, and I was a normal girl with a tiny crush on a guy. He wasn’t a rock star, and I wasn’t broken-hearted.

We were just … us.

I sat back down and rested my back against the couch. Lee stroked my hair, and his fingers traced soft patterns against my head, soothing me, comforting me, and I tried to pretend like it wasn’t the best and the worst thing I’d felt in a long time as my guilt warred with my affections. “Tell me something that not many people know about you.”

“Haven’t we already played this game?” I asked.

“Again. These are … the best games.”

I licked my lips and stared at the flat-screen TV in front of me. The thing was big, but not obscene, and I could see our reflection in it. “Um … well, I’m a virgin.” I went for the obvious, the one I was fairly sure Lee already knew, thanks to my dickhead ex-boyfriend. Seconds later, I wanted to give myself a giant slap to the forehead. What was I thinking? He didn’t know what I had or hadn’t done with Lachlan.
Idiot, idiot, idiot …

“A virgin, huh?” Lee’s hands didn’t miss a beat as they traced over my skull. “I didn’t know there were any of those left.”

I snorted, and shook my head. He was clearly still drunk. “What about you?”

“I …” His hands paused in their journey, then resumed again seconds later. “I have a secret love for television series. Not cool ones, like
Sons of Anarchy
or anything. Embarrassing, daggy ones. Like
Hart of Dixie
.”

“What? With that chick from—”

“
The OC
, which I also loved.” We both laughed, and Lee’s hand trailed down my neck and started its pattern play against my throat. There was something about the way it lingered there, so sensual and delicate … I shivered.

“Your turn.” Lee’s voice startled me out of my thoughts and I gave a small shake of my head, trying to regain my senses.

“Okay, um …” I racked my brain for something, anything, but I was pretty much an open book. I didn’t have secrets; they weren’t something I’d ever been a merchant of.

All I traded in was misery.

“There must be something …” Lee’s fingers traced over my jaw, and God, did I want to tilt my head down and take one into my mouth, lick, suck and run my lips along it and—

Kate. Focus.

“Isn’t there something you haven’t told anyone?” Lee pressed again, and this time it struck a nerve. There was one thing. One big thing that I didn’t talk about at all.

Ever.

“I … I don’t know what happens when we die.” My voice was small, and Lee’s hand stilled.

“Whaddya mean?” His voice was a tiny bit slurred, and I knew sleep was near. Hell, he probably wouldn’t remember this in the morning anyway.

“When we die … where do we go?” I chewed my lip, trying to find the right words. “You know, I was brought up Christian, and I believed in Heaven, and Hell, and everything like that, but really? How can that be a thing? How can there be a god who just lets people die when they’re not”—a sob choked its way up my throat—“ready?”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Lee pulled me close, and I smelt the bourbon on his breath as his lips neared my ear. “It’s okay.”

For some reason, his words had the opposite effect to their intention. I pushed away and spun to face him, tears freely flowing down my cheeks. “You know what it is? It’s not even that. I could believe that whole ‘everything happens for a reason’ crap, but then what about—what about
evolution?
What about fucking
dinosaurs,
Lee? Were they in the garden before Adam and Eve?” I was shouting now, screaming so loud my throat felt raw. My chest shook with the sobs that tore through me, and the pain, the pain that haunted me, that still wouldn’t freaking
leave me alone
was there, and it was real, and it was stabbing me in the gut.

Pain’s a vicious bitch like that.

“I just—I can’t deal with it, you know? But it scares me. It fucking—it fucking scares me till I want to curl up in a ball and die, because after this, there’s nothing, Lee.
Nothing
. And so what’s the damn point.” It wasn’t a question.

It was what had happened to Lachlan.

Where he was right now.

I heaved my chest over my knees and curled up into a little ball, the tears no longer coming but my body still aching. Aching, aching so badly. “And now I’ve just had a mini meltdown in front of my boss, who will no doubt fire me when he’s sober enough to remember this.”