Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Ross
The alarm goes off far too early and I turn over sleepily, shutting it off. Wynter is on her stomach, hair fanned out around her head in a halo of tangles, but she’s the most beautiful woman in the world. Her warm, naked body is close to mine and I spent far too long ravaging it last night.
Instead of talking.
We should have. We still need to.
But sex was more fun.
So much more fun.
I gently brush her hair out of her face and press soft kisses on her face. Her temple, her cheeks, the tip of her nose. She smiles without opening her eyes.
“Morning,” she murmurs.
“Morning.” I kiss her shoulder and then snuggle closer to her. “Sadly, we have to get up.”
“I know.” She wrinkles her nose. “I don’t wanna.” She buries her face in the pillow.
“I don’t want to either.” I run my hand along the curve of her ass. “I’d much rather spend the day in bed with you.”
“Me too.” She turns her head to look at me. “I don’t even know when I’m going to see you again.”
Because we didn’t talk last night.
Nope, we had sex until we were both exhausted and promptly fell asleep.
That’s on me.
So, I need to make it right.
“Let’s figure it out,” I say, sitting up. “I’ll order breakfast while you get dressed and if we hurry we should have a little time to talk before we have to go.”
“All right.” She rolls over and stretches, giving me the most perfect view of her breasts. Rosy nipples. Flat stomach. Soft curves and long legs.
Fuck, I’m going to miss her.
Luckily, breakfast arrives quickly and we sit down to eat.
“Let me email you the itinerary,” I say, typing into my phone. “What’s your email?”
She tells me what it is and I quickly send her the document.
“I just sent you all the details,” I say, sipping my coffee. “Not just where we’re playing each night, but hotels if they’re booked, soundcheck times, all the details. That way, if you book a flight, you’ll know exactly where I am at any given time.”
She smiles. “Okay, good.”
“When do you think you can get away?”
“I’m free most weekends, but I work until five on Fridays and have to be at work by eight thirty on Monday mornings, so there isn’t a lot of time once you put in travel time.”
“And I’m guessing you don’t have much vacation accrued since this is a new job.”
“No.” She sighs, resting her chin on her hand. “When are you in Seattle?”
“Next weekend. We’re doing Salt Lake City, Boise and Portland this week and then Seattle Saturday night.”
She types something on her phone. “Let’s see how much a flight would be coming in Friday night and leaving Sunday.” She wrinkles her nose. “Kind of expensive for less than forty-eight hours. It’s almost seven hundred bucks.”
“It’s all right. I’ll take care of it. Let’s look at the details.”
“Should we wait?” she asks quietly. “That’s only four days from now.”
“Yeah, but then we go into Canada and start heading east. The flights will be longer so we’ll have even less time together. Let’s just book this trip and then we can figure out later dates when we’re on the phone this week.”
“All right.” She picks at her eggs and I want to ask what’s wrong but I don’t have to—I already know.
Because I’m feeling it too.
I hate that she’s leaving.
That we have so little time together.
That this tour is going to last until fall, which will be most of the year.
Based on that, we’re essentially going to be apart for most of it.
“This thing with us,” I say carefully. “You know it’s not going to be easy, right?”
“I know.” She nods though she doesn’t look at me.
“I’m not the kind of man who cheats. That’s the only thing I can say that might make this better. Things may not work out but it won’t be because I can’t keep it in my pants while we’re apart.”
Her eyes snap to mine. “I wouldn’t cheat either!”
“I know, baby. I’m just pointing it out because I remember what you said about not having a good track record with musicians.”
“But you’re not a musician anymore.” She pauses, a tiny frown forming between her brows. “Wait—are you considering putting some version of Ross & the Rock-Its together?”
I hesitate. I don’t want to lie to her but the money the band is offering would change my life. And hers, if we stay together.
“I don’t know about a full band but maybe a solo act,” I say after a moment of uncomfortable silence. “The money is too much to ignore. I have to at least consider it.”
She stares at me and it’s impossible to tell what’s brewing behind her pretty green eyes.
“You don’t want me to.” I say it curiously, because she was all about me being Ross Rockit just a few days ago.
“I want you to do whatever will make you happy,” she says quickly.
“But you’re not happy.”
“It’s not about being happy. It’s about what kind of future we’ll have.”
“Nothing changes for us except that I’m making a lot more money, which is good for us. It means when this tour is over we’ll be able to move in together, whether we rent or buy. We can pay off any debts we have…and I can fly you out to see me whenever you want.”
She’s studying my face, and I can’t tell if she’s trying to determine whether or not I’m serious or something else.
“What?” I ask finally.
“You made a really big deal out of not wanting to be Ross Rockit anymore,” she says quietly. “And now you’ve done a complete one-eighty on that.”
“I honestly didn’t think it was possible,” I admit.
“But I was telling the truth about not looking to be that guy anymore. It’s just…
enticing once you’re back in the thick of things.
I can’t explain the allure. It’s almost impossible to resist. But I’ll tell them no if you really don’t want me to do it. ”
Her eyes widen slightly and then she shakes her head. “God, no. Don’t do that. Certainly not for me. This might be your chance to find out what would have happened if…” She stops and looks away. “Well, you know.”
“You can say it,” I say gently. “There was an accident. My band was all killed. It’s not something we have to dance around.”
“No, but I don’t want to throw it out there in conversation for no reason.”
“For no reason, no. But there is a reason while we’re discussing me potentially starting the band again. Well, a solo version of the band because the Rock-Its were my friends. So, there will be no Ross & the Rock-Its, just Ross Rockit. If I decide to do it, the band will be hired musicians.”
“If?” She cocks her head. “Come on—you know you’re going to.”
I pull in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Honestly, I don’t know if that’s the best decision.”
“You just got done telling me about the money.”
“Right, but money isn’t everything. There will be an emotional toll I can’t put a price tag on.
There will be a toll on our relationship, no matter how well we communicate or how often you fly out.
It’s going to be hard on both of us. And finally, I’m going to have to deal with public perception.
Yes, it’s been nineteen years. I’ve waited more than long enough, but the questions about replacing my band…
my friends. Those will be hard on me. And I’m being honest when I say I don’t know that I’m up for it. ”
She studies my face again, her eyes glued to mine. “I think you’ll be fine. You’d let management or whoever is in charge control the narrative, and you can say whatever you need to say whenever you’re ready.”
“I know.” I take another sip of coffee. “Believe it or not, I’m conflicted about all of it.
The fame, the money, and the lack of privacy will be stressful.
I’ll be making money but I’ll have a lot of expenses.
New stage clothes. Updated equipment. And then hiring musicians to replace my friends.
Okay, sure—we’re calling them hired help.
But it’s the same damn thing, I’m simply not letting them officially become my band.
I have to find someone to play bass. Drums. Guitar.
To do the jobs my friends used to do. No matter how we frame it, it’s the same damn thing. ”
She listens quietly as I continue to ramble.
“And what about us? We’re brand new and now we’re going to throw a wicked level of fuckery into the mix. What will that do to us?”
She looks up and gives me a soft, sweet smile. “We can’t control outside fuckery. All we can control is what we do. Both together and when we’re apart.”
“That’s easier said than done.”
“Were you and Clara happy?” she asks.
It’s the first time she’s asked about Clara and I’m momentarily startled. But then I nod. “Yeah. We were.”
“Was she jealous? Did she demand you not go on tour? Like, how did she deal with it?”
“Clara and I met before the band got the record deal. She knew me as Ross the intern. I was working at a recording studio as a runner, learning the ropes. So she was there from the get-go, watching the band get together, get the record deal, go on tour.”
“What was her job?”
“She was in college. She wanted to be a teacher.”
“Did she drop out of school when you left to go on tour?”
“No. She was a senior. She wanted to graduate even if she never actually got a teaching job. But she wasn’t going to quit senior year.
” I’ve never talked about Clara so casually before, and while it’s weird, it also feels good.
Like the pain has finally started to abate—like I can breathe again when her name is mentioned.
“How old was she when she died?”
“Twenty-one.”
“If she could deal with a famous boyfriend and everything that goes with it at twenty-one, I should be able to deal with it at thirty-three.”
It takes a beat for her words to sink in, but as they do I smile.
“Are you saying you think I should do it?”
“I’m saying you shouldn’t say no because of me. I’m not going anywhere, whether you’re Ross Rockit or Ross Sanderson. It’s all the same to me.”