Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78016 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78016 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
BRAXTON
It’s been two days since Kaylee’s dad died. Since her aunt called Layla concerned and I offered to find her, ignoring the looks everyone gave me. I probably should’ve been the last person to comfort Kaylee, but when I heard about her dad, all the times she spoke about him came back to me, and I needed to make sure she was okay. Her dad was always a hard issue for her. She loved him, but he wasn’t capable of loving anything other than the numbness he craved. I found her grieving, drinking her weight in alcohol, and I put all our shit aside to be there for her.
While she cried and I held her, I imagined us together—her in my bed, in my arms—and I knew once reality hit, it would hurt all over again, but I couldn’t stop myself. She’s spent two days in my arms, crying, mourning, lost in herself, and I’ve spent two days soaking her in, rememorizing her scent, the softness of her body. Sometimes, I just want to say fuck it and forgive her so I can be with her because as much as I hate her, I still love her.
But that isn’t what she wanted. If it was, when she cheated, she would’ve asked for forgiveness. She would’ve begged and pleaded and apologized. She wouldn’t have let me walk away. She wouldn’t have gone six goddamn years without saying a word to me.
And then it happened. The moment I imagined over and over again. She apologized. For cheating? For hurting me? I don’t know. I guess it’s one and the same anyway. I always thought when she finally did say she was sorry, I’d tell her to go fuck herself, but at that moment, all I could do was forgive her. Because the truth is, I’d probably forgive her for anything, and that’s not a good thing. But it doesn’t change the facts.
“Hey,” Kaylee chokes out, looking up at me as if she’s just now realizing, after two days, she’s lying in my bed. We were supposed to fly to San Jose yesterday, but Camden insisted we stay for Kaylee since we don’t have a show until tomorrow night. We had a radio interview to do, but Camden handled it over the phone so we wouldn’t have to cancel.
“Hey.” On impulse, I tuck several strands of her blond hair behind her ear and then palm the side of her face. She leans into my touch and flutters her eyes closed, sighing contently. I wish we could stay like this, suspended in time, but reality is waiting for us outside. As if needing to remind me, my phone buzzes on the nightstand. I remove my hand from Kaylee’s face and check it.
Happy Birthday, son! See you tonight at Henry’s... 7:00.
For a moment, I consider canceling just so I can stay in bed with Kaylee a little longer, but I stop myself. My dad’s been there for me when Kaylee wasn’t. When I was hurt and struggling, he had my back. No matter where we are, he always meets me for my birthday, and I’m not going to choose her over him.
“We have to get going,” I say, pulling back and climbing off the bed. I reply to my dad, thanking him and confirming I’ll see him tonight, and then go into the bathroom to take a shower and escape the temptation lying in my bed. When I get out, she’s gone. The buses are waiting for us, and I go straight to mine, not stopping to see if she made it on hers okay. It’s not my problem, and I need to distance myself. She’s hurting, and I feel for her, but I can’t let her back in. I just fucking can’t.
“Hey, man!” Declan pulls me into a hug. “Happy Birthday.”
“Thanks. You guys coming to dinner tonight?”
“Of course,” Camden says, giving me a one-armed hug.
The drive to San Jose is long as fuck, but I use the time to get caught up on my sleep since I’ve been up the past couple of days making sure Kaylee was okay. The guys don’t mention her, and I don’t bring her up. Nothing’s changed between us, so there’s no point in discussing it.
When we arrive, we get checked in to our hotel since we’ll be here for a couple of days. We have shows the next two nights, and then we’ll be heading to Denver.
“Are you inviting Kaylee to dinner?” Camden asks as we walk downstairs. It’s always been just the four of us and my dad—not even Jill goes, and she’s been our tour manager for every tour—so I know it’s his way of asking what’s going on with us.
“No,” I say before we get into the SUV. Simon, one of the bodyguards we take almost everywhere with us, drives us to the restaurant and drops us off at the front. My dad is already seated, so we head straight back. When he sees me, he stands and gives me a hug.