Chapter 28
twenty-eight
HARLOW
My leg is bouncing uncontrollably as I sit in Belle and Willa’s dressing room. It’s the first show of Shattered Halo’s tour and it’s in Boston. Jason is with Cora so that I could support Cal. I was excited when he offered, but now I’m so nervous I could throw up everywhere. I look around the room to distract myself. Cal doesn’t know I’m here. It’s going to be a surprise. I just have to hold it together.
The room is painted a light blue with one wall a darker shade. The couch I’m sitting on is the same darker blue, and the leather is sticking to my sweaty thighs. Willa and Bella are sitting on stools in front of a large vanity with a mirror.
“Why do you look so pale?” Belle asks, worry creasing her face.
“I think it just now hit me that Cal is a rock star,” I admit. “We’ve kind of been in our own bubble.”
Belle nods. “I get that. The first time I saw Kai out on that stage, I swooned. But on the inside because he was kind of being a dick at that point.”
Willa laughs. “He’s still just Cal. Fame has never gone to his head. He’s always just Cal.”
I want to tell her that Callahan Griffin isn’t “just” anything, but I hold my tongue. I like the idea that there’s a part of him that’s only mine. Selfishly, I want to keep it that way.
The behind the scenes I’m getting right now would make entertainment industry reporters so jealous. Willa and Belle go over the set order while Belle drinks tea and Willa does both of their make-up.
“You guys don’t have hair and make-up people?” I ask.
Willa shrugs. “We did at one point, but I get so sweaty from drumming that my hair never stays, and my make-up will run down my face. It just makes more sense to do it ourselves.”
“Why lilac?” I ask her. I’ve always wondered why she picked that hair color and stuck with it. Willa hitches a brow, and I laugh. “I ask a lot of questions when I’m nervous.”
“It was my mom’s favorite color,” Willa says eventually. “It’s my way of keeping her with me.”
I nod. Willa’s mom died when she was young. It was sudden and the town gossips couldn’t stop talking about it.
The conversation turns into my plans with Cora for the tour and the podcast. I give them a condensed version of the cases we have lined up and the interviews we have set up so far.
“Our interviews are last?” Belle asks.
“Yeah. We want to give my dad as much time as we can to dig into the drug theory. It’s still going to be the first episode, though.”
“How’s the website coming along?” Willa asks as she wiggles into a black lace bodysuit. It’s low cut with long sleeves. She pulls a deep red leather skirt on and then black combat boots. Her outfit combined with her dark and smoky make-up makes her look like a badass.
“Great actually. We hired a woman who’s going to not only design a website but also an app. We still need moderators, but we’ll deal with that once we have a better timeline on the platform.” Cal funded the platform creation. He’s refusing to let me pay him back. He says it’s an investment in our future. I can’t argue with him when he says things like that, and he knows it.
A knock sounds on the door before a bald head pokes in. “Fifteen minutes, ladies.”
“You got it, Nate.” Willa says. “This is Harlow. She’s Cal’s girlfriend. He doesn’t know she’s here, but she has free rein of whatever she needs.”
“Nice to meet you, Harlow,” Nate says before closing the door.
“Nice to meet you too?” I tell the worn wood.
Belle snorts. “Nate is straight to the point. I don’t think he’s capable of small talk.” She’s wearing a matching body suit to Willa’s, but in dark blue and instead of a skirt she has black jeans on.
“Are the guys wearing lace too?” I ask, jokingly.
“I think Mav might be. He has a few lace shirts he bought when we got these,” Willa says.
“Kai won’t be. He wears these silk shirts you’d see on a pimp from the 70s. Says it feels nice on his nipples,” Belle says, laughing so hard she snorts.
I open my mouth to ask about Cal. I didn’t think to ask him about his tour wardrobe. “Five minutes!” Nate yells without knocking or opening the door.
“The opener must be on time if he’s yelling like that,” Willa says, checking her look in the floor-length mirror on the back of the door. “Stay in here for now. I’ll have Nate grab you once we’re on stage.”
I agree as Willa and Belle leave the room. The reason for most of my nerves, that I didn’t share with them, is the amount of women that are going to be throwing themselves at Cal. The guys were joking about it all week leading up to this show.
I’m a jealous person. I didn’t know that about myself until recently. Until Cal. But the idea of another woman trying to get his attention makes me see red. I’m hoping I’ll get used to it. It’s not like I think Cal will entertain any advances. I know he won’t. I know that man is mine. But the urge to tackle him on stage and mark my territory is new and getting hard to ignore.
“Alright, Harlow. They’re starting the show. Follow me,” Nate says from the door. I stand and follow him. He’s a lot shorter than I realized. Not that there’s anything wrong with being short, but the lights are bouncing right off his shiny head and into my eyes.
“Can he see me from here?” I ask, standing on the side of the stage where Nate pointed.
“If you stay there, he won’t. You’re kind of in the shadows. He might notice someone there, but he’ll just assume it’s one of the many people working backstage right now.”
I thank him and turn my attention to the stage. Cal is front and center, welcoming the crowd. Mav is to his left and Kai to his right. Belle and Willa are behind them on the keyboard and drums, respectively.
I think my mouth hangs open the whole show. I’ve seen Cal sing at the studio and at home. I’ve seen him sing in the woods and in videos of their concerts. But Callahan Griffin live and on stage is a whole different experience. He’s wearing a tight white shirt, jeans, and brown boots. His brown hair has grown out in the past few months and it’s floppy as he moves with the music. He said he let it grow because he noticed how much I like to run my hands through it.
The set is a mixture of their old songs with mostly the new album. Kai and Belle sing two of them alone, but other than that, it’s Cal’s show. The lights beat down on them, the fans scream with love and adoration, and . . . is that a tattoo? I inch forward, trying to get a better look. Cal’s white shirt is almost see-through with the amount he’s sweating, and I swear I can see a tattoo on his chest. He doesn’t have any tattoos. I saw him shirtless last night, but he was out of bed before I woke up this morning.
I must have inched too close because Cal’s head whips in my direction and the larger-than-life smile that he reserves just for me crosses his face.
“Oh shit,” I mutter, trying to back into the shadows.
“We have a special guest, Boston!” Cal yells into the mic.
Oh no. No no no.
“The love of my life and the inspiration behind Firecracker!”
Oh fuck.
“Come out here, Harlow!”
I shake my head and look at Willa for help. She just shrugs and gestures for me to come on stage with her sticks.
Cal jogs over, leaving his mic. “Firecracker,” he says, his voice low and full of wonder. “Please come on stage with me. Let me show every single person out there that I’m yours.”
Dammit. The man knows me too well.
I take his hand and let him lead me out into the spotlight. The lights are hot. I can see why they’re all so sweaty. Cal’s grip on my hand tightens. I’m sure he can feel how my whole body is shaking with nerves right now.
Cal looks at Willa and nods. She bangs her sticks together and then they start playing Firecracker. Cal keeps his eyes on mine and my hand in his for the entire song. He’s singing into a mic, and I know everyone else in this stadium can hear him, but it feels like he’s just singing to me. Every word he sings is done with intent and emotion. I feel every moment of the song in my soul.
When the last note fades, the crowd erupts into enthusiastic cheers. My breath catches, my mind remembering where I’m standing right now. I look out into the sea of people. The lights make it so I can’t make out their faces, but I still know they’re there. And I know I’m not wearing make-up, and I have no idea what my hair looks like.
Cal grabs my face, forcing me to look at him. He conveys so much with a look that most people would have trouble doing with words. He’s telling me he’s here, he’s mine, and he loves me. Then he kisses me deeply.
He keeps my hand in his when he turns back to the mic. “Thank you, Boston! We love starting our tours off in this city! You’ve been the best, as always! Goodnight!” Then he leads me off the stage.
I take a deep breath. Did I breathe at all the entire time I was out there? I must have if I didn’t pass out, right? I close my eyes tightly, focusing on slowing my breathing. When I open them, I see Cal’s sweaty shirt.
“When the hell did you get a tattoo?”
He just laughs. Probably not surprised that was the first thing I said to him. He takes his shirt off, pulling it over his head with one hand. Why is that so hot?
“This morning. I won’t be able to spend as much time with my girls as I want to while we’re on tour. I wanted to keep you with me at all times.”
I look at the tattoo directly over his heart. “Cal,” I breathe. There are two brightly colored fireworks exploding, one into my name and one into Cora’s.
“What if we have more kids?” I blurt, my eyes going wide when I realize what I just said. I slap my hand over my mouth, but the words have already escaped.
Cal’s smile brightens even more. “You want to have my babies, Firecracker?”
“Uh, maybe? I just meant, you know, in the future. If we want more kids, that is. Not that we have kids right now. You have a kid. Not me. But I think we’re headed in that direction. Do you? We should have talked about this sooner. . .”
Cal kisses me to get me to stop talking. “We have a child. I want more children with you when the time is right. Make no mistake, Harlow. I want everything with you. Marriage, children, pets, arguments, and make up sex. Everything,” he says, kissing me again. “And you are Cora’s mother in all the most important ways, and I hope that she’s your daughter too.”
I smile through watery eyes. “Cora is my girl. I was just too scared to let myself believe she’s mine.”
“She’s yours, baby. We both are.”
I kiss him then. I kiss him, trying to show him everything I’m feeling. Everything he makes me feel. Cal pulls away and smiles, telling me he knows exactly what I’m doing.
“I got small ones too,” Cal says softly, showing me the inside of his wrist. There sits an unlit firecracker and a pomegranate with the seeds spilling out to spell “family.”
“A pomegranate?” I ask. The firecracker I understand, obviously.
“Did you know that Cora is another name for Persephone? I thought that was cool. It was part of the reason I chose that name,” Cal says, his voice taking on that almost embarrassed tone.
“I didn’t know that, but I love it,” I tell him honestly, pushing up on my toes so I can kiss him. He picks me up by my thighs, wrapping my legs around him. His kiss deepens and turns more demanding. I grip his shoulders and pull myself as close to him as I can get, not caring about how sweaty he is.
“Can you at least wait until we get on the buses? You have your own now,” Mav says, laughing as he passes us. He did end up wearing a lace shirt. His is black like Willa’s, and he wore it with black jeans and black boots. Combine that with his black hair, and he almost looks threatening.
I pull back from Cal and look around. There are people everywhere, packing up the equipment and breaking down the stage. A few fans that scored backstage passes are getting autographs from Willa and Kai. Belle is kneeling on the floor, speaking with a young fan and his parents.
“Go talk to your fans. I’ll meet you on the bus. I need to relieve your dad anyway.” Jason is going to be with us on part of the tour, but he can’t join us for another couple of weeks.
Cal grumbles into my neck, making me laugh. “I’m going to be with you for three months with no break. I think you’ll be okay for an hour or so.”
“Fine, but I get you to myself tonight,” Cal says. I nod and untangle myself from him. Neither of us has any idea how Cora is going to adjust to sleeping on a bus. I don’t want to jinx it by saying something, though.
I should’ve said something.
“Firecracker?” Cal’s voice is thick with sleep.
“I’m here,” I whisper from the end of the bed.
“What’s going on?” Cal asks, scooting forward to sit next to me.
“Cora girl isn’t happy,” I tell him. Cora is snuggled in my arms, sucking on her thumb, but wide awake. She has been for hours. I got to her before she woke Cal so that I could let him sleep.
“What’s wrong, baby girl?” he asks her, stroking her cheek with his knuckle. She reaches for him, and he takes her. I watch as she snuggles into his chest.
“I think the bus moving is bothering her.”
“It’s okay, sweet girl. Mommy and Daddy are here with you. We’ll get used to this together,” Cal tells her. I don’t think I’m breathing. Cal has said I’m like a mother to Cora, and Jason has pretty much said the same thing to me on more than one occasion, but it’s different from hearing Cal use that title so freely.
Cal is so focused on Cora that he misses the hot tears streaming down my cheeks, but the loud gasp I make when I finally get my chest to expand and let in air has him turning. He looks alarmed when he sees my face. Then his sleepy brain catches up and he smiles, grabbing my hand and gently squeezing.
“There are very few things in my life I’ve ever been sure of. I always knew I was going to be singing in a band with my sister and best friends. I knew Cora was mine the moment I laid eyes on her. I knew you were meant to be mine the first time you told me I sucked at singing.” I snort, but I don’t argue. He was pitchy, and he knows it. “And I know you were meant to be the mother Cora needs.”
“I just don’t think I ever expected to hear the title.” It still felt like something I wasn’t allowed to say. It almost feels like I’m taking a spot that isn’t mine. Cora’s mom isn’t here. She never got to be her mom, and that’s making me feel guilt I don’t know how to handle.
“Firecracker. Look at me.”
I lift my head and see the understanding in Cal’s eyes. “Bailey isn’t here. Even if she was, you would still be in Cora’s life. There isn’t a single version of life I want to live that doesn’t have you in it. If it’s the title that scares you, we’ll wait. But the life we’re living, the hand we were dealt, it took Bailey from Cora. But it gave her you.”
I take one of Cora’s soft, red curls between my fingers. I love this little girl just like she was my own. She owns half of my heart, and her daddy has the other.
Cora looks up at me with her big eyes. “Dada,” she says.
“Finally,” Cal says, making me laugh.
“Mama,” Cora says. I gasp at the same time Cal chokes. “Dadamama,” Cora says, turning it into a single word.
Cal’s eyes are wide, looking between me and Cora. “Right, baby girl. I’m Dada and that’s . . .” he stops. He just said we could wait on the title, but Cora seems to have made that choice for us.
“Mama,” I fill in. Cora reaches for me, and I take her back into my arms. She settles into my chest, and I drop kisses to the top of her head. “I love you,” I tell her.
“Mama,” she sighs and closes her eyes. She’s asleep within minutes.
“I guess she needed you to know what you mean to her before she went to sleep,” Cal says, kissing my temple. I lean into him, snuggling Cora tight to me. “I love our family.”
His words have me choking up again. “I love our family too,” I croak. Cal puts his arm around me.
We sit like this, Cora in my arms and both of us in Cal’s, until streaks of sunlight break through the gaps in the curtains.