P.S - If you maintain your side of the bargain, I promise I won’t haunt you! I also promise to only sneak the occasional peek of your drumstick while you're in the shower (wink wink.)
My chuckle booms around the bathroom, even knowing Melanie wouldn’t hesitate to haunt my ass if I ever stepped out of line with Kylie. But even before I read her letter, I already planned to do what she requested. I’ll love and cherish Kylie until my very last breath, even when she doesn’t talk to me for a week.
Chapter Forty-Two
Kylie
As I scan my surroundings, a smile curves on my lips. I should have known Melanie would have thrown the most extravagant party you could imagine for her wake. She would never settle for anything less. Every weekend our apartment was bursting at the seams with people attending her regularly staged events. We didn’t have any money, but that didn’t stop us from throwing the best parties Orange County had ever seen.
Most of our friends arrived with the alcohol and snacks, and we supplied the venue and the music. Although I never participated in the games Melanie organized at her parties, I still looked forward to them. Her parties kept our minds occupied on something other than the aggressive treatment we were going through. It gave us something to look forward to during our shitty weekly hospital stays.
I love Melanie, but I was so angry with her the day after I got her letter. I was mad she didn’t give me the chance to say goodbye. She could have told me she was sick when she attended the gala last week, but she didn’t, and I was furious with her for that.
It was only when Slater read her letter out loud did I realize I had no right to be angry. I did the same thing to him, and I loved him more than anything in the world. Although I’ll never get over losing her, I’ve already forgiven her. What she did was the most selfless thing she’d ever did, so I can’t fault her for that. She saved me, just like I chose to save Slater.
Speaking of Slater, he’s just stepped out of the men’s room. While standing frozen in the doorway, his eyes glide over my body. Excitement dashes through me. He hasn’t looked at me like that in over a week—not since the day he discovered the bruise on my thigh.
He makes his way across the crowded room, weaving in and out of the hundreds of people attending Melanie’s wake. Today is the second time I’ve seen him in anything but jeans and boots. He’s wearing a black suit with a dark gray dress shirt underneath. He looks so incredibly alluring, if I weren't attending the funeral of my best friend, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off him.
When he stops in front of me, he tucks a stray piece of hair behind my ear. “Are you ready to go?”
I nod. I said my final goodbye, so now I’d like to grieve in private.
After clasping my hand in his and saying goodbye to his band members, he guides me to a town car waiting out front for us. The instant we exit the nightclub, I’m blinded by paparazzi lights. Slater growls before tugging me into his side. He shelters our eyes from the blinding flashes with his arm before breaking us through the human jungle separating us from our mode of transport.
I climb inside the idling Escalade before scooting across its warm leather seats. Slater promptly shadows me. When he tries to close the door, the paparazzi block his attempts. He kicks the cameras out of the way with his boots before slamming the door closed.
“They’re fucking crazy,” he grumbles, his voice doused with anger.
A giggle rumbles in my chest, startling even me. The more I try to hold in my laughter, the more it erupts from my mouth.
Slater peers at me in shock before a smile tugs his lips high. “That time in San Francisco?” His grin enlarges as he recalls the memory I’m reminiscing.
A few days after she left San Francisco, Melanie FaceTimed me when I was lying in bed with Slater. When I answered her call, she talked so fast, neither of us could understand a word she was speaking. It was only when she held up a gossip magazine did it dawn on us what she was talking about. The magazine had a two-page spread about the after party Rise Up attended. There were several photos scattered throughout the article.
I was mortified when she zoomed in on a photo of me. It was from when I stepped out of the limo. I looked like a deer trapped in headlights. My eyes were the size of dinner plates, and my mouth was open wide. I laughed when I noticed they also had a photo of Slater’s backside when we snuck into the limo only an hour later.
Right down the very bottom of the two-page spread was a photo of Melanie and Marcus. It certainly wasn’t the biggest picture; it also wasn’t the most glamorous, but it was her and Marcus together, and she was ecstatic. She bought every magazine in her hometown so she could send copies to her family and friends. Even Slater and I got an autographed copy.
“She loved her five minutes of fame.”
“She sure did,” I reply quietly. “I’m going to miss her so much.”
When my tear-welling eyes lift to Slater, he slides me across the seat until I’m sitting in his lap. Once I’m where he wants me, he runs his callused hand down my back soothingly. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to. His comfort is all I need.
A few minutes later, our car arrives at our destination. I pop my head off Slater’s chest to gaze into his piercing brown eyes. “Where are we going?”
“Home.”
He slides out of the car, taking me with him. When he places me back on my feet, I scan our surroundings. Other than a private jet on my left, the airport appears abandoned, so I’m not so sure we should trust any plane stored here.
Slater chuckles at my reaction before accepting the handshake of a gentleman dressed in a crisp pilot’s uniform. “I’m Captain Davis. It’s a pleasure to have you aboard, Mr. Scott.” His kind green eyes drift to me. “And you too, Mrs. Scott.”
Before I can correct him, Slater presses his index finger to my lips, halting my response. “We’ll board in a few minutes.”
Captain Davis nods before entering the small plane. Once he’s out of view, Slater shifts his focus to me. “Do you want to go home?” His voice is packed with sincerity.
I want to nod. The band has been on the road the past two months, so I’d love nothing more than to go back to the loft I now call home with Slater, but I also understand the band has another two weeks of scheduled concerts to perform, so we can’t go home just yet.
