The Problem With Heartache (41 page)

I took a long sip of my bourbon, letting the smooth liquid numb my insides, numb my brain. When I saw her face, I ran. I went to the men’s room, and didn’t come out, and I don’t think she saw me. Her eyes had this horrible glazed look, as if she weren’t really here, but on another planet. Although maybe, considering what she was doing, that wouldn’t have been so horrible after all.

When the dance was over, I’d asked our waitress for a private show with her. Any second now, Carly was about to walk into this seedy, mirrored room with the sticky black lounge, the satin sheet-clad bed, and the floor-to-ceiling mirrored walls and strip for me.

Only, I wouldn’t be letting her strip.
Hell no.

The lights dimmed and a sexy bass beat thrummed through the room. My back stiffened as I stared into my glass. Surely she’d start the strip with more clothes on than she had on stage … right?

One sexy leg scissor-kicked through the doorway, then another, spinning around so Carly entered the room backward in just a G-string and a bra, closing the door behind her.

“You wanted a pri—” Carly gave a seductive wink over her shoulder. “Oh my God!” she screeched and ran to the bed, grabbing the sheets from it and wrapping them to cover her midsection. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Me?” I stood up, slamming my drink down on the table. “What the hell are
you
doing here?”

Carly seemed to cower in on herself for a moment before straightening up, puffing her chest out in defiance. “I’m making a living, Lee. Not all of us get to be rock stars.” She sucked in her bottom lip for a moment, then let it out. “Not all of us get a happy ending.”

The look in her eyes was somewhere between fight and flight, as if she wanted to stay, to let me know just how badly I’d screwed up—as if I didn’t remind myself of that every single day of my life—but it also spoke of how desperately she wanted to flee.

“Carly …” I sat back down, sinking my head into my hands.

“Lottie.”

I snapped my head up. “Lottie?”

“Lottie. You …” She shook her head. “You may not have known, but my birth name was Carlotta.” She nodded, swallowed, her throat bobbing with the movement. I hated that a tiny part of me still responded to that. Still found her so attractive.
Was that why I’d found it so hard to commit, all these years?
“I changed my name. I’m not the girl you knew anymore.”

My knuckles cracked as my fingers dug into my palm.

“I didn’t know.” I shrugged, but I felt lame. Stupid. They say ignorance is bliss, but ignorance is also careless. Dumb.

How had I not known her real name?

“I looked for you …”

“I know.” Carly studied the floor, her toes poking out beneath the red silk sheet that was draped around her body. “I made myself hard to find.”

I stood up and crossed the room, took the four steps to be right in front of her. There was no more hiding. No more running. “Why?”

Carly looked up at me, and her emerald-green eyes, they weren’t emerald anymore. Now, they were jaded. “I was angry, Lee. And I said some things …
horrible
things … things I regret. Things I am so, so sorry for.” She looked back at her feet, but when her gaze met mine again, fire burned behind it. “I needed you. And I didn’t want to need you. Not when you didn’t care enough to fight.”

“Fight?” I spat, my hands to either side of me, palms facing the ceiling. “Fight? You didn’t give me a chance to fight! You just ran!”

“Not then, before. When Ryan first found out … you disappeared on tour. I know, I screwed up—believe me, I know. But I couldn’t help thinking that if this was a real thing, if we were meant to be together, wouldn’t it have been easier?”

I turned and ran my hands through my hair, my mind spinning.

“Lee, I’m so sorry.” Carly’s voice cracked. “I had a lot going on back then, my emotions were haywire, and …”

I spun on my heel. “The … baby?”

Light flared in Carly’s eyes. For just a split second, she was that girl I used to know. “He’s amazing, Lee.”

Three words. That was all it took to change my life forever.

“He?”

“Jay. Lee, he’s … he’s an angel.” The reverence in her words shone.

Everything, all the guilt I’d carried around like a weight during the past four years, it lessened. Because this could lighten my load. This could be my salvation.

This could be my son.

“Do you …” A lump took over my throat, making it hard to form words. “Have a picture?”

Carly smiled, and nodded. “Yeah, but, you know …” She glanced down at her sheet-covered body. “Not on me.”

I gave a short laugh. Because what else could you do at a time like this, but laugh?

It was at that moment that I made up my mind. I’d found her. I could fix this; could make it right, just as I should have all those years ago, just as my brother’s letter had requested, just as Mom and Dad had wanted me to. For them.
For Ryan
.

“Come work for me,” I blurted the words out.

Confusion crossed Carly’s brows. “I won’t be a private dancer—”

“Be our stylist. Work in fashion, like you always wanted. Come and live on the road with me and the band, with little Jay in tow.”

“Ha!” Carly snorted. “And we’ll what, all live happily ever after?”

Her words were like salt on my wound. After how much I’d wished, how much I’d tried to atone for my mistakes all these years … that line was too much. “It’s not a fucking fairy tale, Carly!” I roared. “I just want to try and make things right!”

“You can’t save everyone, Lee Collins,” Carly seethed. “And some of us just aren’t worth saving.”

She folded her arms and sat on the bed. I folded mine and sat on the chair. Sure, I was still physically attracted to her, but in that moment, I knew. I would always love Carly, but I would
never
be in love with her again.

“I haven’t had a real relationship since you left.” The words were soft, spoken directly to my hands. “I haven’t had peace. Please … please, let me try and make this right. Let me be … let me be a dad, or an uncle.”

Silence swept over the room, swallowing me. Here I was, four years on, finally finding Carly, only to lose her again. My one chance to make this right. My one chance to try and find redemption …

“Okay.”

I blinked. Did she just say …?

“But no telling Jay, no paternity test, no girls, no media drama—nothing.” Carly took a step closer to me. “Not until I’m ready.”

I swallowed. So I wouldn’t be a dad, an uncle. I wouldn’t see other girls.

But I was getting that chance. The one I’d always wanted.

“Welcome to the tour, Lottie.”

Present day …

“W
E NEED
to talk.” I studied Lottie from across the table. It was breakfast, the day after tour finally ended, and I’d arranged to have it brought to her room for her and Jay to enjoy. I’d say and myself, too, but my stomach was knotting itself up. Four years was a long time. It was a long time to walk away from.

“I thought as much.” She took a sip from her glass of champagne and orange juice as Jay ran his toy truck over the tower of pancakes in front of him.

“Look, Mom.” Jay smiled a big, toothy grin at Lottie, and I found myself grinning, widening my eyes as he kamikazied his truck off the stack and let it drop to the floor, no doubt a chunk of maple syrup landing with it.

“Wow.” Lottie dropped her jaw. “That’s one outta-control truck.”

“Like the trucks Lee said he’ll show me at the monster trucks.” Jay nodded, and I grinned.

“Sorry,” I muttered in response to the glare Lottie was shooting at me.

“So talk.” Lottie smiled, ruffling Jay’s hair. I still felt like an intruder in their little family duo, and I knew things would take time, but I wanted more. I wanted more than this role of ‘Mom’s employer’. I wanted to be his relative. I couldn’t have this half-life anymore.

“Lottie, I … I know we have sort of an understanding …” I articulated the word with care. “But I can’t keep doing this.”

Her glass hit the table with a solid thud. Her smile dropped from her face. “So you’re letting us go.” It wasn’t a question.

“No.” I shook my head. “Not at all. But I … I can’t do what you asked. I can’t have ‘no girls.’”

Lottie’s face crossed in confusion. “No … girls?”

“Yeah. No girls.” I affirmed.

“What are you talking about?” She pulled her head back in puzzlement.

“First it was that letter. Lottie, I couldn’t … it was my fault. I didn’t deserve to be happy.” I pushed my hands over my forehead and through my hair. “No. I didn’t
think
I deserved that. I think … I think I could, now. Maybe. I’ve paid my penance.”

Lottie sat in silence for a few minutes, then poured herself another drink. I took a bite of the toast in front of me, but it was cardboard, porous in my mouth.

“It was a mistake.”

The words were so quiet. I leant forward in my seat to hear more.

“I was wrong, Lee.” Lottie swallowed, only in that brief moment, she was Carly, the vulnerability shining in her eyes. “I was young, and I was stupid, and I just … I fell for two guys. And then I bled for them. Because neither was the right choice.”

Tears started to fall from her eyes, and the part of me that always wanted to protect Lottie, that always wanted to save her, tried to run to her side.

But I couldn’t be that guy anymore.

Some people needed to save themselves.

“Lee, I’m so s … sorry,” Lottie sobbed. “I’m sorry for Ryan. For not l … loving you. And for the letter. I am so, so sorry for the letter.”

The words were like an absolution to my soul. Like the weight had been lifted. Like the guilt from my past was being eased. “But what about when you said no girls? Back at the … strip club?”

Lottie frowned. “Around Jay? He’s just a kid, Lee. I didn’t want him to be meeting his father, or his uncle, and a host of whores you were keeping around, too.”

“I don’t have who—”

“I know now, okay?” Lottie sighed. “But I didn’t then. And I have to admit … when Tony made me sign that contract, saying I wouldn’t see any other guy—”

“Tony did
what?”

Lottie frowned. “Made me sign the contract.”

“What contract?”

Lottie took a deep breath. “You need to speak to him about it. Basically, it said I couldn’t be in a serious relationship. Now, I guess it was in case I spilled the beans. Then, I thought it was because …” She looked at her feet, shifting in the thick carpet.

Realisation dawned, as bright as the desert sun. “Then you thought it was because I wanted to get back together.”

“Is it going to sound completely ridiculous if I say yes?”

Her big, emerald eyes blinked, and I stood, walked to her side, and hugged her, held her tight for every time I hadn’t held her, for everything we hadn’t had before.

Holding her felt like my past. Holding her felt like family. Holding her felt like letting go.

“I’ll do whatever you need, Lottie. I want to be a part of Jay’s life. I know you said you needed time, but is there any chance we can look at getting the test soon?”

“No.” Lottie’s voice was firm, hard.

“Never?”

“Not until we’ve settled in a little more.” She topped up and took a tentative sip of her drink, which was now noticeably more champagne than orange juice.
She always was one to live life on the wild side …
“Lee, just give me … give me a year. I know I was the one who screwed up. I totally get that. But if it’s … if Jay is …” She shook her head, and I knew. I knew what her deepest fear was.

That Jay would be mine. And then her guilt would weigh even more than my own.

“We’ll wait.” I nodded. Where family was concerned, I had all the time in the world.

Lottie and I sat in silence for a while, punctuated only by the sound of Jay’s truck crashes that filled up all four walls of the living room. God, I loved that kid. And I loved even more the idea that one day, I could be in his life more.

“So … have you booked your flight?” Lottie raised one side of her lips.

“For what?” I already knew the answer. A blind man would be able to sense it.

Because once my guilt had lifted, I’d been able to see the truth. That in a way, Lottie was right. I needed to fight for what I truly wanted.

Because Kate was worth every punch, every blow to the jaw. Every hurt I had to endure.
Everything Lottie could throw at me.

“I’ll see you later, little buddy.” I grabbed Jay as he careened past, his car skating over the top of my chair.

“You coming back soon?” He batted those stupidly long kiddy eyelashes at me.

“A few weeks,” I conceded. I looked up at Lottie, and she was smiling. A big, proper, genuine smile. Maybe the first I’d seen her have.

“Good luck, Lee Collins.” Something shone in her eyes, and my heart swelled. This was the right thing to do. It was the only thing.