Chapter 12
Dani came by my table the next day close to noon as the festival was starting to gear up for its final day.
At first, I didn’t recognize her, because she had her hair in braids and her makeup looked way different.
Of course, Riot was so popular now with this crowd that, when the band members wanted privacy, they had to try to be less noticeable.
Braden had done the same thing the night before in a baseball cap.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I asked her, giving her a big hug, grateful the onslaught of interviews I’d scheduled for the day hadn’t begun yet.
“That’s not the greeting I expected,” Dani said, an amused look on her face.
Shaking my head, I grinned. “That’s not what I meant. I just thought you guys would be heading out today for your next show.”
“Nope. We’re not leaving till tomorrow morning. We have a show in Dallas tomorrow night so we wanted to enjoy the festival today as fans.”
“Imagine that,” I said, grinning. “Which bands are you gonna check out?”
“Last Five Seconds is the one I’m looking forward to the most. Have you listened to their newest album?”
“I’ve heard the first single.”
“The depth of the songs. Wow. Ever since Sam and his wife had their baby, the effect it’s had on his vocals are out of this world. Like one song—at first I thought the words were about a woman he adored, but if you keep listening, you realize it’s about a baby in his arms.”
Raising my eyebrows, I nodded. “I’ll have to give it a listen.”
“Yeah—unless you hate those guys.”
I laughed again. Dani knew me too well. There were certain artists and bands who’d proven themselves to be complete and utter assholes—and, while I respected their talent and would never say anything in my position to try to sway fans, I didn’t plan to listen to their music or buy their albums. There were plenty of other amazing artists who made my ears happy and just happened to be decent people. “No, I’ve got nothing against them.”
“Whew. I was afraid there was gonna be a parting of the ways between us.”
At that, we both laughed. Dani and I had long ago realized we were each other’s best friend that we didn’t know we’d wanted, and liking or disliking another band was low on my requirements for keeping her close. There was almost nothing she could do to make me stop loving her like a sister.
“Anyway,” Dani said, “I thought maybe we could hang out tonight after their show since we couldn’t last night.”
At that, I paused…because what if Braden sent a text? What if he was finally ready to talk?
Before I could say a thing, Dani had read my face. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize you might have already had plans.”
“Oh, no. Um…we can hang for sure. Come find me when you’re ready.”
But after Dani left, instead of reviewing my schedule and questions I’d had planned for the day, I found myself sucked inside my head. I was waiting for Braden. He wasn’t necessarily pulling away, but I sure as hell was standing still—and, until Dani had said something, I hadn’t noticed.
And that was exactly what I’d done all those years as a kid.
I was the quiet one back then. I sat quietly in Bible study, in church, at the dinner table when we were having a family discussion.
I’d always been the good girl who was waiting, biding her time until she could break free and be her own woman.
Why the hell was I still doing that?
I wasn’t holding back from Braden out of respect or anything like it. No…I was playing that same old role from childhood—being the good girl, being patient and quiet.
Waiting.
And why?
Was it because I was afraid to demand clarity? To ask Braden to either put up or shut up?
Was what I was doing with him any better than the way I’d tolerated Dean’s brutish behavior?
I hadn’t left Montana behind to just become a different version of the same girl.
I didn’t want to be the quiet wallflower—one who just waited for something to happen.
Right now, I looked different, with my purple hair, tattoos, and piercings, but I was acting exactly like I had all those years ago.
Picking up my phone, I looked for a text from Braden that still wasn’t there—and tapped on his name, almost typing a message.
But then I closed the app and stared at the screen for a moment. None of this was healthy.
With that realization, I silenced text notifications from him. I had work to focus on—and I didn’t like seeing myself fall into old patterns. I would not go there again.
What Braden and I had was…almost. And I deserved far more than that. Unless or until it became something more, I needed to focus on myself and who I wanted to be rather than a relationship that would never get off the ground.
When I got back to L.A., I cleaned my apartment and then got on my motorcycle and drove to the beach.
The salty air and warm breeze felt good on my skin, and I wound up taking off my shoes and walking in the water as it lapped at the shore.
There were people all around, walking, running, and playing, so I felt like I was part of something while still being all by myself.
It felt so good. But that didn’t mean everything was magically better.
Finally, I sat near the shore. I didn’t know when low tide was coming, but the water was headed that way, so I didn’t worry about eventually winding up wet.
I knew, after Riot’s show in Dallas the day before, exactly where they’d be, because I still had their tour schedule on my phone.
They’d be in Houston tomorrow night before heading to New Orleans.
Then they had seven more shows in the U.S.
with ten days off before flying to Europe.
After doing it for months, it had been hard not continuing to send Braden text messages to ask about their shows or travels—and I thought for just a moment that I should.
But no. Instead, I needed to let go as I was hit with the realization that I wasn’t actually giving him space like I’d thought.
Instead, I’d been giving up mine, even after vowing I wouldn’t.
How many nights had I kept free, waiting to get a message or call from him, hoping he’d reach out so we could talk?
Even now, that hope lingered in the back of my mind.
So I deleted the document that had all their tour dates and shows listed off my phone and then sent Tom a text message.
I’d been stalling on an assignment in NYC, hoping instead to get something close to wherever Riot was going to be.
I needed to move on. I’ll take that assignment in New York if it’s still available.
No longer was I going to cling to patience, thinking it was love if it made me become someone else, someone too close to the person I used to be before leaving my parents’ house.
Feeling a little better, I got up, once again taking in a cleansing breath, and tucked the phone in my pocket. Picking up my shoes, I walked back to my bike, feeling stronger than I had in a long time.
When Riot got back from Europe, Dani and I caught up—and she asked what was on my calendar over the next month.
She wound up inviting me to Dalton to spend Thanksgiving at her place.
Well, she was living with Zack now and, even though they were keeping their relationship under wraps with the press, she couldn’t bear to be apart from him anymore.
Both Braden and Cy knew about them so why not?
And, Dani said, her mom was getting ready to sell her house anyway, because she would be getting married next summer.
So rather than move into an apartment of her own, Dani moved in with Zack, where she would have wound up anyway.
In public—outside of Dalton—Zack and Dani kept up the pretense of being nothing more than bandmates, and no one seemed the wiser.
When I told my parents I’d see the family at Christmas but couldn’t make it for Thanksgiving, my mom didn’t seem too upset by it, but my dad said, “I understand. I just wish you were able to visit more often.”
I didn’t point out that they had never once visited me in Los Angeles. I knew it was because they believed the city was full of greedy criminals and shameless sinners, and nothing good could come from any of it, and I wasn’t going to waste my breath trying to convince them otherwise.
So I flew to Colorado Springs that Wednesday and rented a car.
It wasn’t until I had to drive there that I realized what Dani had always said all along was true: they lived in the middle of nowhere.
I left the majestic blue mountains of Colorado Springs and followed the interstate to Pueblo, nothing but prairie to the east, an endless horizon.
But from there I took a highway that led me southeast, farther from the mountains.
The traffic dwindled and houses were spaced farther apart as I put more miles on the rental.
Once in a while, I’d drive through a small town, but even they felt isolated and wide open.
And, by the time I arrived in Dalton close to two hours later, the mountains couldn’t even be seen. They were but a distant memory.
Dalton, at least, was much larger than the small towns I’d been driving through to get there.
It even had a Walmart near the city limits.
As I followed the directions from the GPS screen, I took a couple of side streets until I arrived in front of a plain brick house with an outbuilding and two cars parked in front of it.
I knew by the address that this was where Zack and Dani lived, and I smiled as I got out of the car and stretched—because this wasn’t like any rock star’s house I’d ever seen.
I’d been in mansions in Malibu and fortresses in Seattle; I’d even been in penthouse apartments in New York and more than one limousine.
This house was humble, a testament to the kind of lives Dani and Zack had lived prior to fame—and their residence told me everything I needed to know, not that I needed confirmation: they hadn’t let it all go to their heads.