Chapter 9
I lean back in the chair I’ve brought up to the roof. Krista is downstairs catching up on some emails and writing. She said she needed an hour. I didn’t want to disturb her, even though she said it was fine for me to watch TV in the same room as her. I’d never inconvenience her like that, plus I’m not a big fan of the TV.
We got to Rapid City around three and parked in a street lot she found. It’s not ideal, given there are a lot of people around, but no one can bother me up here.
I scroll through the pictures I took today. Once I got her to loosen up, Krista agreed to be in the photos. She is always pulling a face, never a normal smile. At the end of today’s reel, it lands on the photo I took of her outside the RV, her head tilted up towards the sun.
My dick is not pleased with me. I haven’t been able to attend to it while in the RV, because I don’t want Krista hearing that. It’s popped up more than once, especially in the middle of the night when I can hear her moving around in her bed, and my head fills with images it shouldn’t.
The more I’m around her, and the more I’m getting to know her, the harder it’s becoming to keep my head from imagining all kinds of things. She’s smart, funny, gorgeous. All things I’ve come across in countless women over the years, but there is something about Krista. She’s different. Carefree but smart. Funny and sarcastic with it. She won’t take any shit from anyone.
She’s got a lot of heart too. Few women would agree to me traveling with them. Well, if I wasn’t a famous musician, with millions of adoring fans who would kill to be in her place right now.
Closing out of the photo reel, I search for local restaurants. We need to be on the road soon to make it to the next RV park, but I want to do something nice for her. To thank her.
I find a bar and grill restaurant with tons of excellent reviews, and call about a table for two in a private spot in the restaurant. Luckily, they say they have some booths that are free at six, so I book one and give a fake name.
When I climb down the ladder and go back inside, Krista is staring at her laptop screen. She has a pen tucked into a haphazard messy bun on top of her head. Her tongue is poking out as she concentrates on what she is writing.
Holy fucking shit. I clear my throat and her attention comes to me.
“Hey. What time is it?” she asks.
“Five thirty. Are you okay to finish up?”
“Uh, sure. Why?”
“I booked us a table for six.”
Her brows lift. “We need to get on the road soon.”
“I know. I got it all figured out. It won’t set us back too much and you deserve a good meal. Let me treat you.”
“You don’t have to buy me dinner, Jude.”
“I’m buying us dinner, Krista. Go get changed. It’s a nice place so you can leave the hiking boots here,” I wink.
She doesn’t rise to the joke. “Will you be alright going to a restaurant?”
“I’ve got us a private booth.”
Her eyes narrow again, but she nods. We both took showers after our trip to Mount Rushmore, so it doesn’t take too long to get ready. I’m surprised when she comes out wearing a dress and heeled sandals, which elevates her height. The dress is modest, knee length with capped sleeves, but it’s a bright turquoise blue that highlights her hair.
“You look beautiful,” I tell her.
“Shush,” she waves a hand, eyeing me up and down.
I don’t have smart wear with me. Only what I brought to Bill’s party and the few items I bought on our first day together. Luckily, there is a washer and dryer on board, so my black jeans are clean, and I’ve paired it with a button up, short-sleeve shirt I bought. It’s flannel, but it’s dark, so doesn’t look too mountain man chic.
The restaurant is nearby, so we walk. It feels wrong wearing the hat, but needs must. At the restaurant, I give in the fake name, making Krista smirk, and we’re led to the back. The booth isn’t all that private, to be honest, but I make sure I’m sitting with my back to the rest of the room as best I can.
Once we’ve ordered, I chance taking off the hat.
Krista looks up at me, then around the room. She smiles when she looks back. “I think we’ll be okay.”
“Today was fun,” I say, lifting the beer the server dropped off, assuring us our food would be along soon.
“You really got into the tourist thing,” she laughs.
“Hey, I don’t get to do it often, when in Rome.”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” She touches her cutlery, moves it around and puts it back again. “Is it helping any?”
I lean back in the booth, tapping my fingers on the edge of the table. “For the first time in ages, I’ve been able to relax and just be me. Last week, I couldn’t have done this,” I point around the restaurant.
Then I frown. Krista hasn’t brought it up and I’ve not mentioned it, so I’m not sure if she’s seen the news. I’ve tried not to keep up with it, switching off my news notifications, but I checked a couple of times.
“The press is reporting I’m missing.”
“What?”
“I guess someone let it slip I disappeared from Bill’s party. No one from the label has commented on the story.”
“Am I at risk of being arrested for kidnapping?” she grins.
“Possibly. And I’ll tell the cops I got Stockholm syndrome and don’t want to be rescued.”
“I do pride myself on doing everything to the best of my ability.”
I chuckle and pick up my beer again.
“Seriously though, is it going to be a problem? Should we be out here like this?” she asks.
“We’re good. The only reason they’ve not commented is because it's good publicity.”
“How is you being missing good publicity? Seems all that is going to achieve is making people think there is something wrong even more than you’ve let on.”
“Any publicity is good publicity.”
“They don’t care about what it will do to you?”
My head shakes and she looks horrified. “They’ve got us by the balls. It took weeks to get them to agree to cancelling the summer shows. The only reason they did in the end was because a therapist threatened them. And they got us to agree to make up some shows next year.”
“So this year’s problem will become next years. They haven’t learned anything?”
“They want to make money. We’re a money machine.”
“Your human beings,” she says, outraged on our behalf. “They shouldn’t be allowed to treat you that way.”
I love how expressive her face is, how vehemently she’s defending people she doesn’t know.
“It’s how the industry works. Don’t get me wrong, Krista, it’s not all bad.”
“That doesn’t make it right, not when the bad is soul destroying. None of you, or anyone else for that matter, should put up with that level of pressure. Jeez, it’s no wonder rockstars turn to drugs and alcohol.”
“I’ve never done that,” I say, sitting up straighter.
“I know,” she says, with a small frown. “You did the right thing. It’s hard to do, especially when it comes to thinking about ourselves. People struggle to speak up all the time and suffer in silence. I hate it. It’s why so many people are messed up.”
“There isn’t a lot we can do about it. I’ve done what I can, short of quitting.”
We’re interrupted by our food arriving. It smells delicious. I pick up my cutlery and indicate for her to dig in. After a few bites, she let out a heavy sigh.
“Would you ever do that?”
“What?”
“Quit.”
“No.” My answer comes quickly. Shit may be tough right now, but I love what I do. “I’m probably an idiot to think stepping away for a while is going to change things. One reason they didn’t want us to take the break was we’ll become irrelevant, and people won’t remember us.”
“Christ, it’s not like you’re taking a year out. A few months will not change how people feel about the band.”
“You think?” I smirk, but there is a vulnerability in the question. And I don’t like it.
No one wants to become irrelevant. It was the biggest concern I had about doing this, after Cody and the other assholes at the label put the thought in our heads. Ethan is even more hung up on the idea of people forgetting who we are. It’s the reason I haven’t spoken to him in a while.
There is no real discord between me and the rest of the band. We all agreed to it, but I can tell there is some resentment there, or fear maybe. Ethan would never call me on it. But it’s in the back of my mind to be careful how it’s affecting the other guys. No matter how they reassure me they’re fine.
“Jude?”
I look up from my food.
“Where did you go?”
Should I be honest? Something about Krista makes me want to be. And part of my plans to make myself better is to speak my truth when I can.
“I’m worried about how this is affecting the other guys in the band.”
“You said they all agreed to it,” she cocks her head.
“They did, and I know they support me. But there is always that fear in the back of my mind that they’re going to suffer.”
“And that is something you aren’t sure you can overcome?”
“Maybe.” I pick up a fry with my fingers and pop it into my mouth.
“Have you talked to them about it?”
“Yeah, we’ve talked this thing to death.”
“I mean, about you worrying they’re not being truthful about how they really feel. Or that you don’t have the right to look after yourself without upsetting the balance with them.”
There is no answer to that, because I’m not sure. It’s still an issue.
“It’ll take time,” Krista says after a while. “Learning to think about yourself before others. It’s not a bad thing to care about the people around you. The problem is, you’ve reached a point where you need to think of yourself first. And that is one of the hardest things a person can do.”
How the hell did I find this woman? She speaks so much sense, like she can see right inside my head and show me the answers I’m searching for.
It’s not that simple. She’s right and I’m going to struggle with the anxiety of hurting my friends.
“Sorry.”
“For what?” she asks, confused.
“Bringing the mood down.”
“Hey, I’m still having a good time. This food is delicious. Eat up, it’s going cold. I want to order dessert and we’ve got a schedule to keep.”
The huge smile she gives is genuine and cheeky and makes me grin back. Buying her dinner doesn’t seem anywhere near enough for what she’s doing for me. Somehow, I know if I made any other grand gesture, it would piss her off, and we’d lose this.
And that is the last thing I want.
We end up sharing a melting chocolate pudding for dessert, which is entertaining by the fact Krista makes a couple of obscene noises while eating it, then flushes bright pink when I smirk at her. She balls up her napkin and tosses it at me.
“I defy anyone not to be satisfied by this cake.”
“I’m not denying it's incredibly satisfying,” I say back, my voice a little huskier than normal.
She licks her lips and I groan, but she laughs again, as if she is playing.
My dick isn’t getting the memo it’s a joke. It’s a good job there is a table hiding the evidence.
“What? It’s messy,” she reaches out a hand, then points at the napkin she threw at me.
I think about holding the napkin hostage and offering to clean it up for her with my tongue. Instead, I pass it back and she wipes the chocolate from the corner of her mouth.
All this talk of being selfish and thinking of myself has me wondering if I should say something. I’m wildly attracted to her and it’s getting harder to hide it. I’ve seen how she looks at me sometimes too.
This is the first time she’s been playfully flirty with me, and I’m not sure what to make of it. There wouldn’t have been an issue at all in the past. Do I take the bull by the horns, put myself first and make a move?
The server appears and asks if we want anything else or the check. Krista asks for the check.
“This is my treat, remember?” I say as she leaves to get it for us.
“I ate more than I intended. Let me go Dutch.”
“Krista, you could get another seven courses, and I still wouldn’t let you pay. Let’s not argue about it, okay?”
Her cheeks flush again and she nods. I’m not sure what embarrassed her about that, but I like it when she blushes, so say nothing.
Once I’ve paid and we both use the restroom, we head outside. It’s only a five-minute walk back to the lot where the RV is parked. I wish I knew how to drive it already so she could have a break. Tomorrow, I’ll get her to show me. I mean, how hard can it be?
A rowdy bunch of guys are walking towards us. They’re not doing anything concerning, but there’s about six of them and they’re all laughing. They’re guys on a night out and I shouldn’t be concerned, but I’m so used to having bodyguards around me, shielding me when groups of people are around like this, it’s second nature to be wary.
Their attention goes to Krista the closer we get to passing them. It’s colder out now than it was earlier, and she isn’t wearing a coat. I didn’t bring one either, so can’t offer her anything to keep her warm. As the group gets closer, Krista moves her arm to hold her purse strap, using her forearm to cover her chest.
At first glance you’d think it is to make sure her purse isn’t snatched. I’ve been around Solene, who tells me the lengths women go to, to make sure they don’t get unwanted attention from men.
It irritated me when men bothered her, coming on too strong, but Sol knows how to handle herself. I know Krista can handle herself too, given how she was when we met. The idea of her feeling even the slightest bit uncomfortable pisses me off.
I’m also a guy, and I know exactly what they’re looking at, the closer they get. Before I think too much about it, I wind my arm around Krista’s waist, pulling her closer to me. She looks up at me with a question in her eyes, but stops when the men split their group to go around us.
I glare at one who is eyeballing Krista. He ducks his head and looks away. Once they’ve passed, I breathe a little easier.
“What was that?” Krista moves a little but doesn’t pull out of my grip, and I don’t let go either.
“What?”
“This,” she wriggles her upper body, so my arm falls away from her waist. “Were you protecting me, Jude? From those hooligans ,” she laughs a little.
“I wasn’t sure if you had your mace,” I deadpan back at her.
Her laughter only gets louder.
She could have taken it the wrong way, got pissed at me for trying to control a situation she can deal with herself. Like with most things I’m learning about Krista, she doesn’t act like any other woman I’ve known.
Behind us, I can still hear those guys. They should have walked on by now. I glance over my shoulder and see they’re all standing on the sidewalk, looking back at us. My hackles go up and I move in front of Krista. She tries to look over my shoulder and sees the guys all talking and looking at us again.
“Jude. Your hat.”
I reach up and touch my hair. Shit. I left the hat on the seat beside me at the restaurant. These guys aren’t looking at us because they’re perverts watching Krista.
They’re looking because they recognize me.