49. Rory
RORY
Cooper’s ugly words ring in my head as I board the bus. He called me a mouse, just like my landlady’s son.
And then Jace punched him. He hit his best friend. To defend me.
No one’s ever defended me before.
A giant knot forms in my throat, and I blink back the stinging in my eyes. Next to Layla, the most important thing to Jace is this band, and he just hit his drummer and best friend because he talked trash about me.
It’s not like Cooper’s wrong. I am quiet around him. I don’t understand this industry, and I don’t really care for Jace’s friends.
Still, Jace told all of the people closest to him that he was picking me over them.
Overwhelmed with emotion, I stand in the kitchen, face the window, and burrow my face against Layla, who pats my hair. Loving someone shouldn’t hurt this much. I try to breathe deeply to get control of myself, because I don’t want to cry during Frank’s meeting, but my head’s a mess.
I haven’t forgiven Jace for what happened with Marlowe, but I can accept he’s felt a lot of pressure to do what’s best for the band. I’m pissed on his behalf that his label didn’t give him time to consider the contract for “Red Light.” That he didn’t get a chance to run it by an attorney.
“Miss, are you doing okay?” Edmond gives me a kind smile, and I nod.
“Nice to have you back.” I sniffle and glance around for my tote bag. Where’d I put it? “I brought you and Ozzie some pralines. Could you hold Layla for a minute? I think I dropped my bag outside.”
“That pretty green one? You left it on the curb. I brought it in for you.” He points to the couch.
“Thank you. That has my whole life in it.”
I grab it and sit in the kitchen while I wait for the guys to board. I study the bus, which looks remarkably similar to the other one. Except at the back of the long hallway, there’s no master bedroom, just more bunks.
Frank sits on the couch across from me. I feel like I should apologize to him. Like I bear some responsibility for what happened outside, but I stop myself. The old Rory would’ve done that. But Jace and Cooper are grown men.
While Cooper is a great drummer, I don’t think he appreciates that there would be no band without Jace, who writes all of their music.
Cooper was out of line. And if he can’t see that I’ve busted my ass this summer, watching Layla and doing the band’s social media, I can’t help him.
But more than anything, he shouldn’t be shocked Jace doesn’t want him having drunken orgies a stone’s throw away from his daughter.
As Frank flips through some paperwork, he glances at me. “Rory, I don’t mean to be rude, but I need to have a word with the guys.” I stare at him, not understanding. “Alone.”
Oh. “Sure. Sorry.” As if I needed another reminder that I’m not part of this band. “I guess Layla and I will go grab a bunk.”
“Thanks, kid.”
I pass the first set of bunks, past a bathroom, to the very back of the bus where there are four more bunks, two on each side, and a small nook beyond that. It has a little table and two small couches. Guess this is my home for a while.
Standing in the back of the bus, all by myself, with only the baby, makes goosebumps erupt down my arms. It’s darker back here than in the other bus, and I have sudden visions of Ghostface from Scream, lurking in one of those bunks with a giant knife.
I yank open all of the curtains, one by one.
They’re empty, of course.
“I’m losing it, Layla.” Pressing a hand to my chest, I let out a relieved breath. “This is better than a master bedroom,” I tell her as I try to convince myself. “This way I can get some space from your dad and decide what I’m going to do.”
I can’t stop replaying that fight. How Jace stood up for me.
Closing my eyes, I try to regain my footing.
Maybe… maybe we can hash things out when he’s done with his meeting.
I glance at my phone. The guys have been talking for a while, long enough for the bus to start moving.
I need to feed Layla, but I don’t want to interrupt the band meeting.
Especially after what just happened. So I give Layla little bites of a chewy granola bar.
Eventually, I give her a toy and curl up with a pillow.
Nestled in a bunk bed, I can hear more than in our old back bedroom. Muffled male voices and the hum of the tires. The whoosh of the air conditioning through tiny vents along the wall. Some mechanical vibration deep in the wall.
Feminine laughter makes my eyes pop open. If that’s Marlowe, I’m fucking done.
I pick up the baby and head toward the front of the bus where I find her sprawled on the couch next to Cooper. “Aww, come on, Jace. Come sit by me.”
“I’m good, Mar.” He’s sitting with his back to me at the kitchen counter where I was earlier.
Twirling a long lock of red hair, she grins at me. “Hey, girlie. Nice to see you.” I’m so sure. “Are you gonna join us?”
Everyone turns to stare at me, and I roll my eyes. “No. They’re all yours.”
I grab something to eat for the baby and retreat to the bunk. Every now and then, I hear Marlowe laugh and I grit my teeth.
“Layla, I can’t handle this,” I whisper to my sweet darling.
“Rara.”
Her beautiful smile breaks my heart. When I leave Jace, I’ll have to leave Layla.
She stands, and the bunk is just barely high enough for her to bounce on her toes and not hit her head. I have to lie on my back, and I have her on the inside by the wall.
“Rory,” a male voice says on the other side of the curtain.
I open it and find Jace. “What do you need?”
“Just wanted to talk to you. See if we could hang out.”
“I’m not hanging out in the front of the bus with Marlowe.”
“Wouldn’t expect you to.” He glances toward the back. “What about back here? With the table?” When I don’t say anything, he leans against the wall and looks down at me. “Babe, you can’t stay in here all day.”
“Why not?”
He holds out his hand. “Please. I didn’t know she was traveling with us. No one told me. Cross my heart.” When he makes the motion across his chest, I see his bloody knuckles.
He did punch his best friend for me.
It’s what makes me relent. At the very least, I’ll hear him out. That’s what mature people do, right? But that doesn’t mean I have to accept what he says.
He throws down a blanket for Layla to play on and gives her a few toys, and he sits next to me. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in years.”
Pushing up my glasses, I nod and turn to look out the window. “You didn’t have to hit Cooper for me. I’m used to him being an asshole.”
Jace grabs my hand. “That’s the point. You shouldn’t have to be used to him being a dick. I kept thinking he’d warm up to you.”
“You guys have been the priority in each other’s lives for a long time. I understand why he feels like I’m the usurper,” I say, feeling my walls start to slip.
“There you go, using big words I don’t understand.”
There he goes, being charming. “It means someone who seized power without any right to.” But it’s misguided. Because what power did I have this week to stop this train wreck? None. “How’s your hand?”
“Hurts.”
“I’m not going to kiss it to make it feel better.
” He chuckles, and it hurts to look at him, so I pull my hand back and turn away.
“Two things happened this week that you should know about. One, the Cherry Smasher left me a gift—he or she shredded my sweater, the one I lost in Fort Lauderdale. And two, I applied for a librarian position near Wild Heart.”
“Whoa. Back up. That’s a lot.” He runs his hands through his hair. “Tell me about the sweater.”
I detail everything that happened and how I ultimately tossed it in my luggage. “I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t reach you—”
Between one beat of my heart and the next, he pulls me onto his lap, so I’m sitting sideways, and cradles my face. “Aurora. Baby. What if something had happened to you and Layla? Y’all were all by yourselves. Why didn’t you call me?” He seems to remember a key detail. “I didn’t have my phone.”
“You didn’t have your phone.” I give him a sad smile.
“The Cherry Smasher wants me gone. Your bandmates want me gone. Pretty sure your label wants me gone. I’m starting to think that’s a good idea.
” I grab his wrist. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do here, but at the end of the day, you and I want different things.
I never should’ve come on this tour. You need the ability to flirt with other singers and perform however you or your label want.
This is your lifelong dream. You’ve busted your ass to get here, and I respect that.
” It’s true. It pains me to no end, but I respect his hustle.
“I feel like I’m getting in the way, so I applied for a librarian position.
I need to go home in two weeks to interview. ”
Squeezing his eyes shut, he ducks his head, pressing it into my neck. “You might not believe me, but I’ve been faithful, Aurora. Every single smile I gave her was because Niles demanded it.”
My walls crumble, and I blink back the tears as I hug him back.
“I’m not mad at you. Not anymore. I was hurt, really hurt, but I know this is just business for you.
At the end of the day, though, I don’t think we’re a good fit.
I appreciate the chance you gave me to come on this tour.
I like to think I’m a little braver than I was a few months ago. ”
When he looks up at me, his eyes are wet like mine.
“You were never just my nanny or my nanny with benefits. You’ve become my best friend, and I need you to know that.
I’ve fucked up every way possible this week, and all I can do is ask for another chance.
But you sound like you’ve made up your mind. ”
There’s only one thing he can say to make me stay.
Three little words.
Those three words could cover a multitude of sins. As long as he’s been faithful, as long as he’s been true to me, if he loves me, then I’ll find a way to rebuild the bridges we decimated in the last week.
As I stare at his sad green eyes, with my heart in my throat, I beg him to say he loves me.
But after a long, painfully awkward pause when he doesn’t mutter a word and I’m too mortified to ask him outright how he feels, I gather all my courage and my broken heart to lie. “I think I’ll be happier being a librarian than staying with you.”
He swallows. Nods. Hugs me again while I cry because this fucking hurts. “Can you promise me something, baby?”
I wipe my eyes. “What?”
“If you ever need anything, anything at all, I want you to call me.”
“Okay.”
“Swear it.”
“I swear.” I take a shuddering breath. “Can you not tell the guys anything for a few days? I don’t want to deal with them for a little while.”
He kisses my forehead. “Anything you want.”
I only wish that was true.