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I closed my eyes briefly, feeling the sting. I’d learned this lesson so many times in my life, hadn’t I? All the way back to the first time, when my parents died.There is no one here for you. You are alone.
Every time I used to hear that refrain in my head, I used to take another pill.
God help me, I’d take one now if I had one.
But I didn’t, so I pushed away from the wall. Then I banged into the men’s room. For once, she didn’t follow.
* * *
Brit was persistent,I’d give her that. This might be just a job to her, but she was determined to see it through. She rode with me back to the hotel, then followed me into my room. She didn’t even pretend she might go to her own room.
The energy from the show was still crackling through me, but I was starting to come down. My hands were less shaky, but my head was throbbing and the backs of my eyes hurt. I kicked off my shoes and pulled my tee off over my head, freeing my skin from the sticky cotton.
My back was to Brit, but I could sense her looking at me. It didn’t matter. She’d seen everything before, and she made it clear she could take it or leave it. Mostly leave it. She’d walked out in the middle of the night on the one and only time we’d fooled around. I unbuckled my belt and dropped my jeans, my boxers.
“I’m taking a shower,” I said, walking to the bathroom.
“You’re not getting rid of me,” she called after me.
“Right. That’s the job,” I shot back, closing the door behind me.
I started the shower cold, which jolted me back out of my head a little. Fuck, I was being a jerk, but I felt like I had gone back in time. The soreness behind my eyes felt uncomfortably like withdrawal—something I hadn’t felt in years and never wanted to feel again. As tired as I was, I felt some of my strength come back. This thing wasn’t going to win, no matter what it did to me. It was never, ever going to win.
I turned up the heat on the shower, quickly washing my hair. I needed something to eat, some more water, and probably to apologize to Brit. I needed some sleep, though that wouldn’t come for hours—I was too keyed up. We had another show tomorrow night, but there had to be somewhere in Detroit that had a meeting early in the day. I’d look it up and make a plan to go.
Feeling slightly more sane, I finished the shower, wrapped a towel around my waist, and walked out of the bathroom.
Brit was standing there, her arms crossed, her dark eyes upset. Great. I’d dragged her down. I should definitely apologize.
“I think I’m going to get another tattoo,” I said, walking past her.
“I shouldn’t have said that,” Brit said, like I hadn’t spoken. “It was a stupid thing to say, Axel. I wasn’t thinking. Sorry.”
Fuck. Now I’d guilt-tripped her. “The design has to be something small,” I said, speaking in turn like she hadn’t said anything. “That’s the only way to get a tat on tour, when you’re only in town for one night. Something that can be done in an hour or two.”
I picked up my phone. I was sick of room service—another hazard of touring. Maybe I could find somewhere nearby to deliver instead. Somewhere open late.
“Axel,” Brit said.
“Sure,” I said. “It’s all good. Are you hungry?”
She shocked me by sliding her arms around my waist and pressing up against me, her cheek against my collarbone. At the contact, a breath left my chest and I stood there, not touching her, my arms out from my sides like a girl had never touched me before. My thoughts zigzagged and my heart pounded wildly behind my ribs. I couldn’t speak.
“I’m sorry I said that,” Brit said again, close to my skin. “This isn’t just a job. Are you okay?”
Her skin was against mine, her bare arms on my lower back. And the front of her—Jesus. Those amazing breasts, pressed up warm against me. Her belly, her hips, her thighs. The sundress suddenly seemed paper-thin. Her hair brushed my shoulder, and I could smell its fragrance, or maybe that was her skin.
Are you okay?Those words sliced through me. People in my life cared. But if I wasn’t okay, I had to recognize it myself and make a plan. No one ever asked.
I closed my eyes, still not touching her. On some level, Brit cared about me—I knew that. We were friends. But it was her job to look after me in moments like these. She was paid to pull me out of these moods, to make sure I didn’t crash and burn. That was what she was here for.
“You don’t have to do this,” I said, my voice stiff.
I felt her arms tense around my waist. “Do what?”
“This. Any of this. I’m in control now, honestly. I’m not going to go against the rules. You did a good job. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
Brit pulled back a little and looked up at me. She was annoyed now, though strangely, she didn’t let me go. “All right, de Vries,” she said, “that’s it. Would you like a swift kick in the nuts?”
