It must hurt her, too, especially when I don’t reply.
She can’t think it will be that simple to fix the fucked-up state of our marriage.
I block out the thought of her by going through my morning routine. Email. Online newspapers. Chatting on the phone. Eating. Texting. Rote activity to block thinking.
I toss my cell on the table. Four hours of nothing. I’m tired, frustrated, and I just want this fucking knot in my stomach to go away and to feel normal again.
I need to bury myself in being on tour.
Go to a party.
Get laid.
That would be finality.
Irrevocable for Chrissie.
The only woman I’ve ever chased.
The only woman I’ve ever loved.
Oh, but she’d walk away from me forever if I did that.
Then maybe the pain would stop surfacing—nagging, aching, reminding me of what I had and why I can’t forgive her. Jen is still traveling with the tour. Available. Fun. Up for anything. Maybe I should just go and get laid.
* * *
“OK, kids. The car is here. I’ve got to run.”
The kids are lying sprawled around the sitting room. Kaley looks up from her book, does a quick, stiff smile, and then shifts her gaze away. The boys are asleep. I drop a kiss on Krystal’s forehead.
Krystal smiles. “Why are you in such a good mood tonight, Dad?”
Those wide blue eyes fix on me, and I tense and instantly start to feel guilty.
Crap.
I haven’t done anything yet.
All I did was text Jen to confirm she was free tonight. I didn’t set up anything. OK, fuck, that’s bullshit. Texting Jen is the same as paying a hooker. Deal sealed. OK, I’m just considering it. That’s all.
At the door I look back at Krystal. I widen my eyes. “Behave.”
She laughs, and I step into the hall to be surrounded by my security team. Inside the elevator I’m feeling lighter, more upbeat, and I’m starting to get some of that performance excitement and nervous energy going that’s been mostly absent on this tour. It’s a fucking great rush when I get it.
By the time the car rolls to a stop at the arena I’m pumped, feeling the way I should before going on stage. I get another infusion of adrenaline pushed into my veins as I go from the car to the entrance.
Anything I want.
Yep, I deserve it.
Why shouldn’t I have it?
As I’m escorted down the tunnel to the green room, noise, vibration, roaring fans, and beautiful, fawning women inject me with enough endorphins that it makes getting my dick wet tonight an absolute necessity.
I’m fucking someone tonight.
Fuck you, Chrissie.
When I join up with the guys, I start drinking with them like we did in the old days. Soon we’re laughing and shooting the shit with the ease we used to. I scan the women for new, untasted possibilities. I’ve got time for a suck before I go on stage. Fuck, I definitely need it. I haven’t gotten fucked in over a month. Maybe two women later. I feel like I could fuck for a week nonstop.
Plenty of luscious options to choose from. And there’s Jen hovering where she’s always in the line of my vision.
Everything is falling into place. Everything feels fucking good when we’re ushered from the green room onto the stage. The arena is stirred up into a frenzy and so am I by the time our set is through. I run off stage and my body is beyond lit.
I make my way down the corridor. I’m just going to grab Jen and get the fuck out of here with her. She’s a great lay, adventurous and up for anything.
Back in the green room we’re swallowed up by people. Journalists, musicians from other bands, the famous, and the road whores. Twenty minutes into getting my ego stroked, I’m there, ready for my after-party. I fix my stare on Jen, she looks, and I nod. She slips out from the crowd and into the exit corridor.
I turn to Len.
“I’m heading out.”
Len grabs my arm and drags me away. “Don’t do it.”
I give him the what the fuck face. “Don’t give me that shit, Len. You fuck every cunt you can on the road.”
“Linda and I have an understanding. You fuck Jen, that’s it. Done. Over. Everyone will know. Jen will make sure everyone knows. You’ll be in divorce court before it’s wheels up in Australia.”
I shake Len off. “I don’t give a fuck. Do you hear me, Len? I don’t care.”
“Well, I do, you witless bastard. You’re not thinking clearly. When you stop being angry you’re going to care, because you fucking love Chrissie, you always will, but then it will be too late.”
“I guess that means you’re not going to give me a handful of those rubbers you carry,” I jeer and then laugh in his face for added insult.
Len glares at me, shakes his head and walks away.
Good, I didn’t want him fucking with my head anyway.
I start making my way out of the room and an image flashes in my head. A picture of Chrissie straddling me and trying to inexpertly rip open a foil square is immediately followed by flashing pictures of riding me, her head back and mouth open in ecstasy. I love the way her hair surrounds me, lightly teasing my flesh as she slowly glides up then slams hard, the way she smells—
Oh fuck.
I lean into Trey, the head of my security team. “Keep Jen off me and make sure I leave here in the car alone.”
* * *
I step into my suite, go to the bar, and fix myself a drink.
“Did you have a good show, Dad?”
I whirl to find Krystal lying on the sofa, drowsy-eyed.
I sink down in front of her so we’re at eye level. “What are you doing out here? Why aren’t you in bed?”
She rubs her eyes. “I wanted to wait up for you, but I guess I fell asleep.”
Smiling, I kiss her on the forehead. “You don’t need to wait up for me.”
She turns on her side, facing me. “I thought someone should. Mom would have waited up for you.”
The void I left the arena with is now cavernous and aching. I press two fingers against my forehead trying to bring my heart, my body and thoughts back into control.
“Come on. It’s two in the morning. Let’s get you into bed.”
Her blue eyes rapidly search my face. “What’s wrong?”
I rake the hair back from my face. I exhale. She has Chrissie’s eyes. They’re like truth serum.
Fuck it.
Who cares?
It’s the truth.
And I’m exhausted from pretending.
“I miss your mom.”
Krystal smiles and nods. “I do, too.”
I rub my brow and try to will myself calm. “Hey, do you want to sit up with me until I’m ready to sleep and watch really bad American cinema? That’s something else your mom would have done for me.”
Chapter 21
Oh fuck. I can’t believe I forgot my cell phone. It took an hour to get the kids to the lobby. I pat my pockets. No, not there.
“Hold up. I forgot something. Stay here with Mrs. Barton. I’ll be right back. I’m just going to the room for a second.”
“I’ll go with you.” Krystal rushes toward me.
I frown. “No, if Eric sees you, he’s going to get upset again about having to stay behind with Linda.”
Kaley rolls her eyes. “Eric is not going to get upset. He’s not sick. He’s faking. He doesn’t want to go to some lame Royal Botanic Gardens any more than I do. Why can’t we just go to the beach?”
I look at Krystal. “Do you want to go to the Gardens?”
She nods, her eyes widening.
Damn, I think she means it. I’m with Kaley. I’d rather do the beach.
I smile. “It’s Krystal’s turn to pick. We’re doing the Gardens. I’ll be right back.”
Kaley flounces off and drops heavily onto a chair. Ah, she’s giving me that you’re ruining my life expression. Nice touch.