“I sure hope I’m in the room when your daddy meets him,” he said, turning back to the road and grinning. “And when your mama sees those pictures all over him.”
“They will accept him.”
Colton raised his eyebrow.
“You truly believe that?”
Did I? How on earth was I going to explain Heath to my parents?
I raised my chin. They would have no choice but to accept him. Accept us. Just because they had never envisioned their eldest daughter falling in love with a heavily tattooed musician, it didn’t mean it wasn’t in my future. And Heath was my future.
If he stopped being such an ass.
Chapter Thirteen HEATH
Because we had argued I woke up with a big ache in my chest.
Because she wasn’t with me, I felt empty and frustrated.
I lay in my bed and looked up at the ceiling, lost in the lazy rhythm of the ceiling fan. I missed Harlow and wanted to hear her voice. I checked my cell phone on the bedside table in case she’d called or texted, but there was only a text from Devo and Bandit with a picture of them and a couple of showgirls they’d picked up overnight.
I lay back and rested my hands behind my head. It was only 7:09 am. Half of Vegas was only now getting to bed and I was wide fucking awake. I hated that Harlow and I had fought. Hated how I had left. Hated that I had an entire day ahead of me with nothing to do but think about our argument and question myself.
Had I fucked things up between us? Would my jealousy send her back into the arms of her ex-boyfriend?
I rolled onto my side and punched the pillow and replayed our argument.
It reminded me how charming and handsome her ex-boyfriend was. I detested that he’d been with her. That he’d once touched her. Kissed her. Made love to her. I had never known jealousy until he’d walked back into her life.
He was everything I wasn’t. He was from her world; I wasn’t.
Frustrated, I got up and took a shower to clear my head.
Somewhere between LA and Vegas I’d lost my mind. I was obsessing and I knew it.
Was she with him now? Is that why I hadn’t heard from her? Was she sitting across from him somewhere, mentally comparing the two of us?
Oh hell! Was she in his arms?
I paused, breathing hard as I stood under the shower spray, and closed my eyes to brace myself against the image of the two of them together. Him touching her. Kissing her. In bed with her …
I slammed my palms against the tiled wall. I couldn’t take any more of my own self-sabotaging behavior. It was like I was stuck in the middle of a Clapton song. On my knees because my girl had turned my whole world upside down.
Fuck. I’d officially entered crazy town.
Shoving off the faucets I toweled off and went to the bedside table to retrieve my phone. I hit Harlow’s number and waited for her to answer. Ready to beg forgiveness. Plead insanity. Promise her everything she needed to hear. Anything to end this madness I was plagued with. But the call went straight to message bank. I tried a second time but again it went to message bank.
I threw my cell on the bed. She was avoiding me. And deservedly so. I’d thrown a tantrum like a toddler.
Either that or she was …
I shook my head to clear away another paranoid thought.
It was 7:30 am. We had press and publicity scheduled for 4:30 that afternoon. I could easily get to LA and back before then.
I rang Bandit.
“You’d better be dead. Or a size 0 blonde with big tits and a wet pussy, ringing me for a good time.” He grumbled into the phone.
“I’m heading back to LA but I’ll be back in town for the meet and greet.”
“You forget something?” I could hear the concern in his gruff voice. But I wasn’t about to explain myself to him. He’d call me pussy-whipped and I wasn’t in the mood.
“Yeah, I left the iron on.”
Delta had a 9:30 am flight to John Wayne but it was delayed so we didn’t get into the air until after 10 am. But we made good time and by eleven o’clock I was standing in Harlow’s doorway, looking across at Bridget.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in Vegas?” she asked, yawning.
I wondered if Harlow had told her about our argument.
“I have to take care of something first. Is Harlow home?”
Bridget shook her head. “I haven’t seen her since yesterday.”
Her words sent my paranoia into overdrive. Harlow hadn’t come home last night?
Panic set in. “She didn’t come home last night?”
Bridge must have noticed the desperation in my voice because she was quick to correct me.
“She probably did, Heath. I just haven’t seen her, that’s all. I pulled a late one at The Palace last night and only just got up. What’s wrong?”
I felt sick. “I just … I need to talk to her.” I paused. “Colton’s back.”
“Oh, yes.” She suddenly looked preoccupied with her painted toenails. “She told me.”
“Bridge … do I have anything to worry about? With Colton?”
She looked up. “I don’t think so, Heath.” She made sure she looked me square in the eye. “Once you’ve burned your bridge with Harlow there’s no swimming to shore and begging for forgiveness. Once she’s done; she’s done. And he made sure of it when he cheated on her with her best friend.”
Somewhere inside the apartment her cell phone beeped.
“Come in, that’s probably her. If not, she might’ve sent me one earlier. She usually sends me a text if we keep missing each other.”
I waited by the kitchen counter as she checked her cell. Panic swelled like a wave when I saw her frown and pause.
“Harlow?” I asked.
She nodded and paused as if she was trying to work something out. Then she smiled brightly but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. I couldn’t help but feel like she was keeping something from me.
“She’s fine. Colton has talked her into brunch at The Vine.”
It was a restaurant ten minutes away. If Colton was taking her there, then I’d be meeting them there. If she wasn’t going to answer my phone calls, she’d have no choice but to talk to me face to face.
Bridge sneezed. “Damn hay fever.” She sneezed again, put down her phone and disappeared to the bathroom to retrieve a tissue.
I didn’t touch her phone. I didn’t have to. The screen was still lit up. I glanced at it, hating myself but desperate to know where my girl was. I twisted my head so I could read the screen. And there it was. Written in a text in front of me:
Sorry I didn’t come home last night. Long story. Explain later. With Colton. At The Vine for brunch.
My stomach flipped and twisted on itself. My girl was with her charismatic ex-boyfriend and hadn’t been home all night. Black shadows filled my head and the urge to punch something was palpable. The dread was like deadly venom carving a slow and painful course through my brain.
This was killing me. I had to find her. I had to sort this shit out.
Exhaling deeply I ran my hand through my hair and tried to control the surge of anxiety firing against every nerve and fiber.
Bridge walked back in and could tell by the look on my face something was up. Her eyes dropped to the phone and back to me and her lips settled into a thin line. She sighed.
“She didn’t say she was with him last night.”
“No,” I snapped and headed for the door. “She didn’t have to.”
* * * * *
I’d heard that love led you to do crazy shit. But I’d never experienced it firsthand. It didn’t seem like that long ago when I’d pitied those fools around me who seemed determined to swim those stormy waters. I was never going to be one of them.
Yet here I was. Flailing about in the water like I was caught in a shark attack.
Fear. Panic. Anxiety. I wasn’t used to this bullshit. And I was never this paranoid.
The Vine was less than ten minutes away. Parking across the street I took a moment to work out my game plan. I needed to handle this right. To work out the best angle to play this instead of charging into the restaurant like a psycho and freaking her out. I wanted things to be right between us. It was tough to admit it but I really needed to hear her tell me we were okay. It was the only thing that would calm me down.