Sierra made a gagging noise. “TMI, little brother, TMI!”
“No, not what I meant! Well, that too, but it was so much more than that. I feel better than I have … ever. We talked. A lot. I know why she’s been so angry all this time. I deserved every ounce of it, but … it was a perfect night.”
“When did you become such a girl?” Sierra laughed.
He stood still. “I know. I’m making myself nauseated, but I don’t even give a fuck.” He looked at her and laughed. “I think I could love her, Sierra.”
She dropped her bag on the floor. “Really? Isn’t it a bit soon for that? You’ve had one good night with her and love?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t know. It doesn’t feel sudden. She’s invaded my brain for nearly four months now. I’ve never felt this, that’s all I know.”
Sierra wrapped her arms around him. “I’m so happy for you, Beck. I really am.”
“I want to have Mom fly in—maybe when we’re in Atlanta or New Orleans—so she can meet her.”
“You’ve never had Mom meet a girlfriend. Wait—is she your girlfriend?”
He hit her over the head with a folded up magazine.
“Oh yeah, maybe you are finally growing up,” Sierra snorted.
He rolled his eyes at her. “I know. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
“You’re the one who’s all ‘I could love her’ and blah-de-blah!” Sierra laughed. “Prepare Mom, so she doesn’t pass out from the shock…”
He bopped her over the head with a banana.
“Ow! Why do I keep getting hurt over this relationship? Use a pillow next time, dammit!”
He resisted texting Roxie all afternoon. He was afraid he might have already scared her off. He’d lost his mind since the moment he met her. Well—oh God, he couldn’t believe how he’d treated her before. Just further proof that getting clean was the best thing he’d ever done. He’d been a complete asshole. The fact that she was even considering giving him another chance was unbelievable. He had so much to make up for and couldn’t wait to start.
He talked to his mom but didn’t tell her about Roxie. He’d wait and surprise her, despite what Sierra said. He bought a ticket for her to meet them in Atlanta in a few days. He showered and did vocal exercises while he shaved. Maybe Roxie would stay with him at least part of the drive tonight. They had a long trek to Tampa and she didn’t have to stay the whole night if that made her uncomfortable.
It only took one touch, and her stiff posture let him know they’d lost ground. Before last night, she’d begun to melt into his touch. There was no melting tonight. When her eyes met his, it was confirmed. His voice faltered and he missed a beat. Scrambling for control, he held his mic out to the crowd and let them sing a few bars of his song while he looked at Roxie. She wouldn’t look at him.
He wanted to throw her over his shoulder and kiss some sense into her, but he threw his frustration into the music instead. She matched his aggression, and it was hot as hell.
As soon as they’d done their final encore, he whispered in her ear. “I’m not giving up. You’re coming with me tonight.”
“No, I’m not,” she whispered back to him.
And then she surprised him. “Anthony was right,” she said over her shoulder as she walked away.
What the hell did you mean by that? He texted her in the middle of the night, unable to stop thinking about her. He was startled when she answered right away.
I need to keep the peace on the bus. And it was all going so fast anyway.
And a minute later: I’m still not sure about you, Beckham.
He cursed and continued tossing and turning all night long.
The next day was torturous. They drove all day and didn’t arrive in Tampa until late that evening. He ran along the beach at midnight and got up with the sunrise, running until the stitch in his side wouldn’t let up. He was so distracted he ran into another jogger and nearly knocked her over. She never even said a word when he apologized. Hopefully she wouldn’t show up later in the media, looking for money to exploit his absentmindedness.
He hadn’t texted Roxie again. He didn’t know what to say. He was snappy with Sierra that afternoon and she told him to go run again. He would have if it hadn’t been time for dinner.
Nate called as he was leaving to eat.
“Have you seen the latest pictures?” he asked.
“No—where?”
“I emailed them to you. Hang on, I’ll text it real quick.”
When Beckham’s phone buzzed, he pulled back and opened the picture. It was a little blurry, but it looked like him dancing … a long time ago.
“What is this?”
“Recognize the girl you’re with?”
He looked at the picture again and to the left of him, her eyes staring up at him, was Roxie.
“Shit.”
“Yeah.”
“Is this news to you?” Nate asked.
“No, she told me about it the other night … I didn’t remember her.”
“These are the things you’re supposed to tell me, Beckham, so I can do damage control. The press is running with this. I hope you really like this girl, because the media will either have you married in about two minutes or they will demolish her.”
“I do,” Beckham said. “I really like her.”
“Okay, well, I’m gonna have another talk with Johnny and Al to make sure they’re on top of her—you know not everyone will be excited about this.”
“I know. Thanks, Nate.”
Beckham heard him before he saw him. That little voice sounded so familiar. He rounded the corner of his bus, rushing to get inside the auditorium on time.
“Beckham!” the little boy called. He dropped the hand of the girl he was with and ran over to Beckham.
The girl waved shyly at Beckham but stayed back.
“Mavid!”
Leo’s head fell back and he laughed. “You’re so funny.”
That lisp. It slayed Beckham. “So great to see you, little dude. What are you doing here?” He bent down and gave him a fist bump.
“Visiting my mom.”
“Awesome. I haven’t seen your mom since tryouts! Where has she been hiding? Are you having fun?”
“Yeah, just got here, but we went to the beach once already.”
“Well, that’s great.”
“And you see my mom every-”
Howie put his hand on Beckham’s shoulder and cleared his throat. “Sorry to interrupt, but it’s time.” A golf cart rolled up to Beckham.
“Sorry, buddy, I gotta get to the show. You watchin’ tonight?”
“Whatever she says.” He pointed a thumb behind his shoulder and grinned.
“Gotcha. Well, I’d love to see you again before you go. You should come visit me on the bus…”
“Yethhh!” Leo shook his fist up and down and ran off, yelling, “Bye, Beck!”
Beckham smiled all the way to the back entrance. He jumped off the cart and ran inside, waving to the fans who were screaming on the sidelines.
Suzanne hurriedly put product in his hair and tamed the waves. Someone new powdered his nose. She grinned at him and got to work.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“Coco—Tracy took a few days off.”
He glanced down and tried to hold still and not sneeze while she passed the makeup brush over his face. She had on a pair of cowboy boots that were an unusual shade of blue.
“Cool boots.” He held still but his eyes studied her. “You remind me of someone…”
She smiled and shrugged. “I hear Zooey Deschanel sometimes.”
He laughed. “That’s it—you really do look like her! It’s a compliment. She’s a nice girl.”
Anthony came through, clapping his hands. “Move it, Beck. They’re gonna be bitter pretty soon if you don’t get out there.”
“Thanks, girls. I’m gonna trust that you made me look good in less than five minutes.” He made a face and ran toward the sta
ge.
Roxie was smiling tonight. Not at him necessarily, but it was apparent she was happier than the last time he’d seen her. He’d take it. Either way, whether she wanted him or not, they were scorching together onstage. He never wanted to look away. She turned him inside out. It was all he could do to focus on the words of the songs. He lived for every moment he could touch her again.
Backstage, he bypassed the VIPs and ran to catch up with her before she went to her bus.
“Tonight, Roxie. Come with me. Let’s have dinner … or walk on the beach? We have a short drive, so I don’t think we’ll be leaving until later.”
“I have family here … I think we’re gonna drive on to Miami and stay in a hotel tonight.”
“I’d love to meet your family…”
She nodded. “Yeah, you will. I still need to tell you all about them.” She looked over his shoulder and cringed. “You better go though—a riot’s starting back there with beautiful, impatient women…”
He leaned over and kissed her quickly on the cheek and then the top of her hand before he went to autograph CDs and cleavage and shirts. He drew the line at underwear. Never again.
Ian borrowed a car that morning, so they could go swim in Roxie’s hotel pool. It felt like summer in Miami—January be damned—and he wanted to take advantage of it. Donny called right before they left. They usually spoke at least once a week, with Ian wanting to hear everything the doctors were saying, and Donny only wanting to talk about the tour. But this morning he sounded happier than he had in a long time. He was done with chemo, and his doctors couldn’t believe he was doing so well. Donny said he had a whole new outlook on life, and that it was worth it to be sick, to feel this grateful for life now.
After they hung up, the conversation kept playing back in Ian’s mind. He loved Donny and hoped he had a lot of years left. But he didn’t ever want to get so detached from living that it took nearly dying to see what he had. The thought seemed foreign now—he knew how great his life was and didn’t think the gratefulness would ever fade, but … it happened all the time. Even people who seemed to have it all struggled with complacency, boredom … discontentment. What kept passion alive?
Water splashed in his face and he was glad for the distraction. He didn’t need to get all emo on their morning off. He’d keep thinking about it though and maybe a song would come out of it, maybe some answers. He looked down at his little girl and thought his love for her would explode right out of his chest. She loved the water. He held her back against his chest and her little feet went crazy, kicking. Leo jumped in the pool and swam up to him, smiling at Journey. The little boy was such a nice kid, and he was gentle with Journey, so that made Ian like him even more.
Sparrow jumped into the pool and wrapped her arms around his back.
“You okay?” she asked. “You’re so quiet today.”
“Just thinking. Talking to Donny got my mind going about some things.”
He turned around to face her and pulled her close. Her legs still fit around his waist with Journey between them.
“Do I tell you enough how this life with you is the best gift I’ve ever been given?” he asked, reaching out to touch her face.
“Every day.”
Sparrow stretched out on a lounger next to Chloe. Roxie and Leo played in the pool for a while and then went to get a snack at the vending machine. When they came back, Leo got back in the pool and Roxie stayed by Sparrow and Chloe. They were talking in hushed voices and laughing a lot, which made Ian suspect they were discussing sex. Sparrow claimed he thought everything was about sex, though. Not necessarily true …not everything. He’d done a lot of reflecting today without sex being in the forefront of his mind. Granted, keeping passion alive did involve sex too, but … okay, maybe everything did go back to sex. But, really, what was so wrong with that?
Leo did a huge jump in the pool and Ian called out: “Solid 7!” Journey laughed so hard she got the hiccups. “Journey thinks that should’ve been an 8.”
Leo wanted to make her laugh again, so the game began. Ian and Journey were the judges; Ian with a score between one and ten, and Journey with how loud she cackled. She thought Leo was the funniest human she’d ever seen.
They’d met Chloe and Leo once before, but Roxie usually didn’t come around when he was in town. Ian didn’t blame her. He’d want his family all to himself too. Sparrow always spent extra time with Roxie when Leo went back home. She was lost without her boy.
The girls sat up and Roxie jumped off the lounger. He and Leo paused the game to see what was going on.
“I forgot my outfit for tonight!” she yelled. “I’ll run over there now, so I’ll have plenty of time to eat and get ready. Wanna ride with me, Leo, or stay in the pool?”
“Stay in the pool!”
“Of course.” She smiled and blew him a kiss. “I won’t be long!”
She hadn’t been gone five minutes when a redhead walked into the pool area and asked Sparrow if Roxie was still there. She stopped in mid-sentence when she saw Ian and he regretted not going underwater when he saw her come in the gate. She looked like a vulture ready to strike. She stepped closer to the pool and looked down at him.
“Ian Sterling? How did I get so lucky?” She flashed teeth and put a hand on her hip. “Roxie Taylor sure gets around.”
“Not sure what you’re implying. I’m here with my family,” he said.
Leo popped up beside him.
“Hey, Leo, would you please sit with the girls for a minute?” Ian asked.
“And then I can get back in the pool?”
“Of course.”
Leo swam to the ledge and climbed out.
“And you are?” Ian looked at the girl.
“Mirielle Wethers, with Rolling Stone. I’ve been leaving messages for you for weeks. Looks like I just needed to find Roxie to find you.” She smirked and stepped into the shade.
“Ah, Mirielle, you need to stop with the Roxie innuendos. Beckham told me about you and if I’d wished to speak to you, I would’ve called you back. That’s how that works.” He looked over his shoulder to Sparrow. “Hey, baby, could you come here, please?”
Sparrow shifted her long legs off the lounger. He got out of the pool and enjoyed watching her walk toward him.
He looked at Mirielle, who wasn’t bothering to hide her annoyance. “This is my wife, Sparrow. If you say anything about me, it should be that I love my wife. We’re having a little time off before the show tonight, and I’m asking you to leave. Now.”
Her eyes flashed and she stepped closer. “I just want-”
“No.” He handed Journey to Sparrow. “Call Will,” he said under his breath.
Sparrow walked away with the baby and called Will. He’d taken a break right before Mirielle came, but Ian knew he wasn’t far. In moments, Will was walking toward them.
“Quit giving Rolling Stone a bad name—we know you don’t work for them anymore.” Ian turned and said over his shoulder: “This is Will—he’ll make sure you get to your car safely.”
He put a towel around his neck and waited until Mirielle was gone before getting back into the pool.
Roxie pounded on Beckham’s door.
“Hey! Come in!” He was smiling until he got a good look at her face. “What’s going on?”
He took her hand and led her up the steps. She was clutching something in one hand, but held onto him with the other.
“Hey, you’re shaking. What happened?”
“I went to wardrobe just now—I meant to grab my first dress last night, so I could hang out at the hotel as long as possible, and-” She held up her dress.
It looked like a blowtorch had been taken to it. Completely charred. Beckham barely touched it and material crackled to the ground.
“What the hell?” His eyes were huge.
“All of my outfits are like this. Only mine. After the other night, when I stayed with you … my blanket and all my books were cut up into little pieces. I didn’t-”
/>
“What? Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded.
“I didn’t want to bring you into it. I hoped it was just a pointless stunt and nothing serious.” A tear fell down her cheek and she angrily swiped it away.
“Hey, come here.” He hugged her close then pulled back just enough to study her face. “This involves me, whatever happens with you. I care about you and want to make sure you’re always safe. I can’t do that if you keep me in the dark. Don’t shut me out. Okay?”
She nodded.
“What’s going on here?”
“Well, I was mad, but now I’m scared, too. I confronted Brooke and-”
“Wait a minute—Brooke? You think she did this?”
“She’s the only one I’ve had any issues with and she seemed to think it was funny the other day. She said I couldn’t prove that she did it.”
Beckham shook his head. “Brooke? I know she’s not the nicest person, but I’ve never thought she’d do anything this awful. You really think it’s her?”
“I trust everyone but her. As crazy as it sounds, I still think she purposely tripped Sparrow, hoping she’d get that song with Ian. And I don’t know how anyone else would get on the bus.”
“Okay, let me get my phone. I’ll need to talk to Nate and security, and eventually Brooke too.”
Anthony knocked before Beckham had called anyone. Nate stood beside him, mumbling something under his breath.
“You look like the grim reapers, coming to carry us off to our death. I guess you’ve heard about it already?” Beckham asked, stepping aside to let them in.
They stopped short when they saw Roxie.
Nate cleared his throat. “I wanted to wait until after the show but didn’t want you blindsided by any reporters. There’s a pile of reporters out there, ready to pounce on this story.”
“How would the reporters know about any of this?”
Nate and Anthony looked at Beckham like he’d lost it.
“What do you mean? They’re the ones who came out with the story,” Nate said.