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“Uh, okay,” Owen said. “I wonder what Kelly’s up to.”
While Jacob pretended to sleep, which was pretty hurtful, Owen occupied himself with a shooter game on his phone. He couldn’t remember ever wanting to be back on the road so much in his life. He usually treasured his time at home,
but he needed the normal give and take of the band and the routine of playing. Maybe he’d get to talk to his brother this evening; Chad’s calls from Afghanistan always cheered him up. And he’d get to see Kelly soon. That also cheered Owen up. They rarely spent a day apart, and Owen legit missed the guy.
In New Orleans, after a bit of a mix-up at the hotel’s front desk—Adam apparently had their keycards—he and Jacob went upstairs. Jacob seemed a bit more amenable to conversation in the elevator, but Owen no longer felt like sharing his problems with the jerk, so he decided to wait in his room until the concert.
Once there, he checked his messages—one from his mom asking if he knew anyone who could get Lindsey’s car in Oklahoma and one from Lindsey saying she hadn’t completely destroyed his transmission but that she’d feel more comfortable driving her own vehicle. No messages from Kelly or Caitlyn. Since he was forbidden to contact Caitlyn, he called Kelly. When Kelly answered, Owen could hear road noise in the background.
“Glad you called. I was getting really bored,” Kelly said.
“How far out are you?” Owen didn’t mind talking on the phone, but he much preferred face to face conversations.
“I got a late start this morning,” he said. “If traffic cooperates, I should get there about an hour before we go onstage.”
“Oh.” That sucked.
“How are you holding up?” Kelly asked. “I know what you’re like after a chick dumps you.”
“She didn’t dump me. At least I don’t think she did. I’m not sure. She’s none too happy about Lindsey living with me.”
“Lindsey is living with you? I thought Mom was going to take her in.” Kelly had called Owen’s mother Mom since he’d been in junior high.
“She tried. My parents were going to rent the apartment to her.”
“That’s a nice place.”
“Was a nice place.” Owen caught Kelly up on the mold situation and ended by telling him that Caitlyn had overheard Lindsey calling him down to breakfast.
“Well, you know how you could have avoided the entire situation.”
“How?”
“Told her up front that Lindsey was living with you and not tried to hide it.”
“I wasn’t trying to hide it. Lindsey wasn’t staying at my place when I’d last spoken with Caitlyn. Circumstances changed.”
“So you really want to make this thing with Caitlyn work?”
“I do.”
Kelly sighed. “Whatever makes you happy. I’m stopping for gas now. I’ll see you when I get into New Orleans.”
“Okay,” Owen said. He didn’t realize he hadn’t asked Kelly about his weekend with Dawn until they hung up. They’d have plenty of time to catch up later.
Owen was drifting in and out of sleep across the hotel bed when his phone rang. He was absolutely stunned to see the caller was Caitlyn. He glanced at the clock radio—exactly six p.m. Wasn’t that when she’d said she was allowed to call?
“Hello?” he answered. “Caitlyn?”
“Okay, I have a list of all the things I want to say to you,” she said, her words rushed, as if she’d lose her nerve if she didn’t blurt everything out at once. “Please hold your questions and comments until the end.”
He laughed at her making a list—it was definitely something she’d do—and at her treating a phone call like a press conference.
“Number One,” she said.
And of course she’d number the list.
“I don’t like that the pregnant girl is staying with you, but I understand that you feel obligated and want to help her out, so I won’t throw a big fit about it. If she’s staying with you, there can be no touching. I mean it. I will throw a fit about that.”
“No touching Lindsey,” he said, smiling at her bossy tone. “Got it.”
“Number Two. I regret sending you away when I did. We could have enjoyed the rest of our weekend without me suddenly having to find myself. Charles reminded me how I get when I fall in love. I completely forget who I am and focus on complementing the man I’m with.”
“You’re in love,” he said, his smile broadening. “Got it.”
“Don’t put words in my mouth, Owen.”
“You’re the one who said it.”
She chuckled. “Fine. Number Three. I checked your concert schedule and see that you’ll be in Atlanta on Thursday. If I take a flight right after work, I think I can catch the tail end of the concert and spend the night with you. Take Friday off and hang out with you all weekend.”
“You can’t wait to see me again,” he said. “Got it.”
“I’m trying to be serious here.”
“How’s that working for you?”
“It was going well in my head, but I can’t seem to stick to my agenda when you’re involved.”
“I don’t do agendas,” he said, “but I can compromise, and I do want to see you again as soon as possible because I have feelings to confess and I don’t want to do it in a line-itemed list over the phone.”
“You got a problem with how I confess my feelings?”
He could hear the teasing laugh in her voice. He wished he could also see it on her face.
“No problem,” he said. “I just do things a bit differently.”
“That’s good. So do I. I just have to keep reminding myself that it’s okay to be me.”
“It’s better than okay. You’re amazing.”
“I should have just driven to New Orleans instead of pacing my office all day. I’d have almost been there by now.”
“Are you finished with your list? I have a few things to say as well.”
“No. It has twenty-four points.”
“Twenty-four?”
“Well, some of them are pretty specific and not that important.”
“So summarize for me.”
“I want to be your girlfriend.”
“Done,” he said.
“I want to meet your family.”
“This is getting serious,” he said.
“We need to spend less time with our clothes off. I can’t so much as sneeze without feeling you were inside me.”
He grinned. “How about we compromise on that one? One solid fuck with the stud in my piercing per day. No more.”
“Amending list item Seven,” she said.
He could actually hear the sound of her pen scraping against the page as he assumed she added a note to her list.
“Unlimited fucking without the stud in.”
“Yes,” she said. “That’s good. Unlimited fucking. Okay, Number Eight.”
“Caitlyn?”
“Yeah?”
“Why don’t you fax your list to me and we can discuss it at our next meeting.”
“I’m being silly, aren’t I?”
“You’re being wonderful you. I just want to make sure you add my items to your list before I have to go. They’ll be calling me to the bus for sound check and dinner soon.”
“Oh, sorry for keeping you.”
“Owen’s list Number One: no making me wonder for twenty-four hours if I’m going to see you again. Dump me for real or keep our line of communication open.”
“Good one,” she said. Again he could hear her scribbling.
“Owen’s Number Two: no more lists.”
“I need lists,” she insisted.
“Okay, but you don’t have to share them with me. We can operate on different levels and still work together.”
“That’s the part that freaks me out. We’re so different.”
