17. Jace
JACE
Gratitude settles over me as I wave to the crowd. This moment right here has been a lifelong dream, and I fucking did it. I feel like I’m finally doing something with my life. Like my brothers won’t have to worry about me being a loser who bums beer money ’cause I’m broke.
It’s late when I reach the bus. I hadn’t meant to be out so long, but after we signed autographs, we were famished, so we grabbed dinner. The crowds were intense, and it took forever to get our food.
Our security guy, Edmond, greets me when I get to the bus.
“Everything good tonight?” I ask, hoping our weird stalker issues are really over.
“Nice and quiet. Rory and her baby arrived a while ago.”
I smile, not bothering to correct him that Layla is my baby and not Rory’s. “Great.”
Rory’s gonna be a wonderful mother someday. She’s responsible but kind and loving. Yes, she has a prickly exterior sometimes, but she’s always sweet with Layla, and I’m lucky to have her.
I tuck Rory’s food under my arm as I make it up the steps on the bus.
She looked adorable today with the baby wrapped to her chest. And it gave me some sick satisfaction to watch her face when we kicked off the set with “Dead Flowers.” Haven’t played that in a while, but the guys didn’t care about the song list tonight, just that we were here.
After I check in with Frank, who’s reviewing the next few days with someone on the phone, I head to our bedroom. I won’t be surprised if the guys have friends over later, but the sleeping areas have sliding doors that help reduce the noise in the lounge.
When I reach my bedroom, I knock softly before I crack open the door.
Layla’s sound asleep on Rory, who’s nestled against a few pillows. I smile, stupidly happy to see them.
Rory’s eyes crack open. “Hey.”
“Sorry I woke you. Are you hungry? I brought you some steak tacos.”
“That sounds really good. I was too tired after the show to get something to eat.”
“Sorry, I should’ve had dinner brought to you sooner.”
“It’s okay.” She yawns.
I move Layla to her crib. Thankfully, she doesn’t wake up. “Was she cranky after the concert?”
“A little clingy. She’d cry whenever I put her down, so I finally gave in and took a nap with her.”
“Thank you for comforting her. I’m not one of those ‘let the baby cry it out’ kind of people.” That’s not shit you realize when you’re busy being the carefree uncle.
“I’m not either. Studies say children don’t suffer emotional damage from self-soothing, but dang, it hurts me to let it happen.”
After she sits up, I perch on the bed next to her and hand her the box of food. “I wasn’t sure what kind of salsa you’d like, so I brought you all three, mild, medium, and spicy.”
She opens the box, grins, and holds up the mild. “I love pico de gallo, but I’ll try anything as long as it’s not super hot.”
“Noted. That’s my favorite too. I ate, like, five tacos and two churros.”
She bats her eyelashes at me. “Did you bring me a churro?”
I chuckle, loving her playful side. “Check behind the tacos.”
“Oh my God. I love you.” She inhales a taco, grinning at me the whole time while trying to keep her mouth shut. It’s adorable. “By the way,” she says between bites, “you guys were fantastic tonight. That a cappella thing you did midway, ugh, it hit me right in the solar plexus.”
I’d be lying if I said I’m not all puffed up on the inside like a damn peacock. “Glad you liked the show.”
“Liked it?” She squints at me, probably because she can’t see without her glasses.
“It’s a disgrace that you’re one of the opening acts instead of a headliner.
” Before I can say anything, she yanks on my t-shirt.
“Don’t let this go to your head. This will be the one and only time I ever flip out about your band. ”
“Okay.”
She grabs another taco. “I understand why this was so important to you, and I’m really glad this worked out, that I could help with Layla. Your music is next level.”
I’m not used to Rory being so encouraging. I can’t stop grinning. “Thank you.”
“How did you think it went?”
“Pretty good. Even though it was early, the crowd had a great energy, and Frank said we sold a ton of merch.”
Rory puts down her taco. “Merch? Like, t-shirts?”
“Yeah. Would you like one?”
“Frankly, I’m offended I haven’t gotten one already.” She sniffs, and I chuckle again. This girl cracks me up. But then her expression grows serious. “Did you see that girl tonight? Marlowe?”
Nodding, I look down. “Not close up. She was on stage, doing her thing.”
“And how did you feel?”
“Anxious.”
She motions to me with her taco. “Explain.”
Leaning over, I brace my elbows on my thighs and scrub my face. I’m not one to talk about emotions or feelings or yuk it up about women. This is outside my wheelhouse. But I can appreciate that Rory is outside of her comfort zone too on this tour.
I kick off my boots and slide back on the bed and tuck a pillow under my head. “I got in over my head with her. It started out like they always do, just fucking around. I’m sure you know that’s my MO.”
“Yes, you’re the Manwhore of La Mancha.”
“What?”
She snickers. “It’s a play on the title Man of La Mancha, a musical. Librarian joke. Sorry. Continue.”
“Anyway, we did a mini-tour together. Hung out a lot. And I guess I thought we were building something together. Then, one day, she ghosted me.”
“Are you serious? Who does that?”
“It was the end of the tour, and I thought we were good, thought we were getting serious, and then poof. It was over.” When Rory doesn’t say anything, I glance at her, and she’s watching me with those sad hazel eyes.
“I survived. I’m okay, but I spiraled for a while there.
Partied a lot. Fucked around. That sort of thing. ”
“So before Marlowe, you weren’t the Manwhore of La Mancha?”
I chuckle at that nickname. “Not really. I mean, I wasn’t a saint, but I didn’t use sex as an escape or let women hop in my bedroom window.”
“I heard about that. Paige said she’d find random girls’ clothes around the house.”
“Yeah, that wasn’t cool. Especially not since I was living with my nephews and baby Ella.” I shrug. “It’s why I went on my sex cleanse.”
“What’s that?”
Rolling over onto my side so I can face Rory, I tuck my arm under my head. “I did an abstinence thing, starting last November.”
“Was it hard?”
We stare at each other, but then we both break out laughing, and I lift my brows. “Why, yes, it was very hard.”
Her face flushes, and she shoves me. “You know what I mean.”
“At first it was a challenge, but I needed a reset. So I gave up sex and partying. I’ll still have a beer or two, but that’s it.”
“How long did you do the cleanse?”
“It’s still going.”
She stares at me like I sprouted two heads. “You haven’t had sex… going on seven months?”
“Yup.”
“I wasn’t expecting you to say that.” She nibbles on her churro. “Do you think the abstinence has helped you recalibrate?”
“I can’t say for sure, but I don’t think about sex all the time or focus on getting laid after every show.”
Her nose wrinkles. “Every show?”
“Most, yeah. And before you lecture me, I’ve gotten a clean bill of health. First thing I did when I started my cleanse was get tested for everything.”
“Aren’t you a lucky duck?”
“I know I am. And this is probably TMI, but sometimes I get a raging erection when I perform. It must be the adrenaline. So now I do push-ups afterward or pull-ups. Anything to refocus that energy.”
She gives me a once-over, lingering on my arms. “So you do a lot of push-ups, huh?”
I laugh. “You have no idea.”
The mirth in her eyes fades. “Am I messing this up for you? Were you planning to be a fuckboy again on tour? And I made you swear not to screw around?”
“I’m fine. This was all so sudden that I didn’t have a plan. So no, you’re not messing up anything for me. And for the record, I don’t want to be that person again.”
She swallows, looks away. “If you want to… to do that again, I just need you to give me a heads-up about it first, okay? I don’t like surprises. And while I know this isn’t a real marriage, it probably wasn’t fair of me to ask you to be abstinent on this tour.”
“Hey.” I squeeze her hand until we make eye contact. “I thought our agreement made sense. It wouldn’t be fair to you if I slept around while we’re telling everyone we’re married. That’s not the kind of man I am.”
“Okay. I just feel bad. I’m not even sure why.”
“Don’t feel bad. I’m not being deprived of anything. I’ve already done all that, and I never thought I’d say this, but casual sex was starting to feel pretty hollow.”
She nibbles the inside of her cheek. “How long ago was the Marlowe thing?”
“Hmm. Maybe three years ago?”
“In emotionally turbulent times, I need carbs and sugar. Here.” She breaks her churro in half and offers the other half to me.
“Thanks.” I eat it in two bites. “What about you? Tell me more about your ex so I’m not the only asshole here.”
After setting down her food on the nightstand, she curls up next to me as the air conditioning kicks on.
“Hayden and I started dating my senior year of high school. He was my first everything. I thought we were going to get married one day. Stupid me. We were together for four years before I came home early from work and found him pounding my stepsister into her mattress.”
“Fuck. I’m sorry.”
“I was devastated, but the worst part was that my dad took my stepsister’s side.”
I frown. “Why the hell would he do that?”
“Probably because my stepmother was in his ear, telling him that Taylor and Hayden were a better fit. That Hayden was outgoing and he’d be better off with another extrovert. That I was too bookish and nerdy.”
“You’re not too bookish. And even if you were, there’s nothing wrong with that.” Reaching out, I brush her hair out of her eyes. “What about your mom? Did she defend you?”
She looks down. “Mom passed away when I was young.”
“I’m so sorry. That’s a tough blow at any age.”
“She was my person.” Rory runs her finger over the comforter. “Anyway, after she died, my dad married Camille pretty quickly, and everything changed.”
“So you lost your mom and dad, in a way.”
She looks at me like I’ve said something she’s never let herself say out loud. “I guess I did.”
“Is that why you moved to Wild Heart?”
“Yes, I needed a fresh start.” She sighs and gives me a guilty look. “I feel bad about something.”
“Spit it out.”
“I know I’ve been standoffish with you. I already told you that you remind me of my ex. He was in a band, and…”
I wince, immediately understanding. “So you assumed I was a prick like him.”
“I’m sorry I misjudged you.” Her cheeks flush. “And I also know your family thought I was infatuated with you. I couldn’t help but stare at you because I kept waiting for you to prove me right, I guess. And that’s not fair to you.”
God, she’s sweet. “Well, if we’re confessing our deepest secrets, I owe you a bigger apology than the one I gave you for always being on my phone.
Truth is, I barely spoke to you at the wedding, and that’s entirely on me.
I’d just started my cleanse and was trying not to get distracted by your pretty face.
” She looks at me like I’m crazy, but it’s the truth.
If I’m being honest with myself, I’ve always thought she was beautiful, from the first moment I met her at Mav and Baylee’s dinner.
“You were right to call me out on that at the library. I’m sorry I made you feel bad. ”
Her hazel eyes go shiny. “Apology accepted.”
I clear my throat. “How about we start over?” I hold out my hand. “Hi, I’m Jace Walker, a former Manwhore of La Mancha. I’m twenty-seven and I love coffee, old records, and food in general.” I wink at her. “And I’m your husband.”
Her flush deepens, and she puts her soft hand in mine. “I’m Rory Anderson. I’m twenty-five, a bookworm and lover of classic rock, Pinterest crafts, and vintage clothes.” She nibbles her bottom lip. “And I’m your wife.”
Never get tired of hearing that. “Hi, Rory. I like your long dresses.”
“Hi, Jace,” she whispers. “I like your sense of humor… and I guess your music isn’t so bad.”
I laugh, realizing that the more I spend time with my wife, the more I like her.