Chapter 12
An hour later, Erin is in Mia's suite, standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame while she watches her sleep.
They got back barely fifteen minutes ago from the rehearsal studio.
Mia's bodyguard had lifted her like she weighed nothing once Erin decided it was safe to move her, and they'd carried her out to the van Noah had made sure was waiting at the back entrance.
The arrival at the hotel had gone much the same way; Jude had arranged enough security to make sure no one could get a photo of the singer in such a weakened state.
They'd brought her in through a side door that led to the kitchens, and once they'd laid her on the bed, Erin—with Nell's help—had taken off her boots and her clothes and pulled the blanket over her.
Nell had slipped out as soon as she wasn't needed anymore, and Erin could leave too, because Mia is stable and has just fallen asleep, but she'd rather wait a little and make sure nothing wakes her.
With her expression relaxed, the singer looks harmless—nothing like the sharp-tongued girl who seems ready to devour the world every time she takes a step.
Erin thinks about the moment she watched Mia go pale and feels a strange flare in her chest that makes her uncomfortable, because she'd felt a fear she didn't recognize when she thought she might not reach her in time, and a warmth she can't explain when Mia had looked at her, terrified, and begged her not to leave her alone.
Her phone vibrates and she pulls it out of her pocket to see her sister's name on the screen.
Brooke Dooley
Why aren't you picking up?
She locks the screen and puts it away. Brooke called when they were on their way to the hotel and she couldn't answer because she needed to focus on Mia, but she's not in any rush to call back either.
Since she left New York, she's tried to reach her sister a couple of times, and not only has Brooke not returned her calls, she hasn't even replied to the message Erin sent a few days ago asking if she was okay.
Mia sighed and the breath caught slightly on the way out, and the doctor straightens and takes a step toward the bed, then stops when she realizes it was just a settling sigh, the kind that comes from a body unwinding after several minutes of tension.
She leaves a glass of water on the nightstand and writes her a note on a page she tears from the small notebook she always carries in her pocket, asking her to let her know as soon as she wakes up.
She finally leaves the suite and, pulling the door closed behind her, stands there with her back against the wood, not quite sure what to do.
For a moment, loneliness moves through her and knocks the air out of her lungs.
She thinks about calling Barry to tell him what happened and share what she felt with someone, but she realizes there's no one she could actually explain it to, because no one would understand the panic she'd felt—it wasn't just about not being sure she could prevent Mia's blackout: what had scared her most was the thought of not being enough for her, of not being enough to make Mia feel safe.
Erin doesn't understand anything that's happening to her with this girl.
She doesn't know why, when she closes her eyes, she sees Mia's blue ones, or why something tugs in her stomach when Mia turns that crooked smile on her.
What she does know is that she can't let any of it affect her; she can't get attached to Mia Wilder or let herself be seduced by her.
She can't afford that temptation, because she and Mia belong to two very different worlds, and Erin only has a place in the singer's world for as long as the Wild tour lasts—after that, she'll go back to New York and Mia will go wherever she goes to rest and recover while she keeps pulling strangers into her bed.
"Afraid she'll make a run for it?"
Erin turns and finds Nell walking toward her, hands tucked in her jeans pockets and glasses hanging against her chest.
"No, I just—" She looks down both ends of the hallway, not sure what to say.
"You okay?" Nell asks.
Erin opens her mouth to answer and feels her phone vibrating against her leg again.
She knows it's Brooke, who won't stop until she gets a response—and not because she's worried, but because when her sister wants something, it has to happen right now; on top of being selfish, she's stubborn about it.
Erin feels the pressure closing in, and for a moment it's her own chest that feels like it might cave.
She doesn't want to talk to her sister right now, because out of everyone on this planet, Brooke is the last voice she wants to hear.
What she needs is to shake off the awful feeling that's stuck to her after what happened with Mia, and listening to her sister isn't going to help with that.
She brings a hand to her head, dazed, and closes her fist around a handful of her hair, squeezing while she breathes in sharply and then lets the air go, slow.
"Erin," Nell murmurs.
The doctor blinks and looks up, pulling her hand away from her hair when she realizes she'd forgotten for a moment that the woman was still there.
"Sorry, I zoned out."
Nell watches her with that serious expression that's so characteristic of her, and Erin feels a small shiver, because she has the sense that the woman is genuinely worried about her—and the feeling is so unfamiliar she doesn't know what to do with it.
"Mia's going to sleep like a rock, I'm sure of it," Nell says. "Why don't we head down to the bar? I think we could both use a beer. Or a whiskey."
Before she knows it, Nell has taken her by the arm and is pulling her along without waiting for an answer. Erin doesn't resist, and rides the elevator down to the main floor, following Nell to the bar.
"What do you want to drink?" Nell asks.
"Water."
Erin feels a laugh tug at the corner of her mouth when she sees Nell's expression.
"I don't usually drink—alcohol doesn't really agree with me, and I need to stay sharp for Mia."
"Fair enough, water it is," Nell concludes, and orders a glass of water for Erin and a sparkling water with a slice of lemon for herself.
"You did really well with her."
"Yeah, well, it came down to a matter of seconds. I don't think I'll always make it in time," Erin says.
"But today you did, so we won that round against those weird dizzy spells of hers."
Nell raises her glass in a toast and Erin clinks hers against it, then takes a long drink of cold water that clears her head a little.
"Tell me something about yourself," Nell says.
"About me?"
Nell raises her eyebrows.
"Yeah. I know they practically yanked you out of a hospital." Erin smiles and nods. "What's your life like there? The ER must be intense—you must see all kinds of things."
"Yeah, I guess so."
"Are you seeing anyone?"
Erin's phone vibrates again, and this time she pulls it out of her pocket, Brooke's name blinking on the screen. She turns it off and sets it face down on the bar while Nell watches her steadily.
"Not my business, but who's Brooke?"
Erin appreciates the woman's bluntness—the kind of nerve that comes with age, when you've stopped worrying about what's proper and just say what you mean.
"My sister. She probably wants money, or to tell me she's met some guy who fixes cars out of an unlicensed shop."
An involuntary reaction lifts Nell's brows and etches a couple of lines across her forehead.
"Sorry," Erin says.
"Don't be. Sometimes family is a mess and the best thing you can do is keep your distance." Nell finishes her glass and signals the bartender, this time ordering herself a gin and tonic and Erin a soda.
"I raised her," the doctor says, surprised to find she trusts Nell enough to talk about her life. "My mom worked two jobs to keep us afloat. Brooke is twelve years younger than me, so I took care of her, and apparently I didn't do a great job of it—she got used to me fixing all her problems."
"If you raised her, you did fine. She wasn't your responsibility to begin with, and the choices she makes now aren't on you either. She's an adult. If she's immature, that's not your fault."
Erin goes quiet, turning Nell's words over. She might be right, in part—but for Erin it's far more complicated than that, because she still feels like her sister is her responsibility, especially now that their mom is gone and they only have each other.
"Why don't you go rest for a bit before that lavender-haired girl monopolizes your attention again?"
Erin manages a small smile.
"Why does she wear it that color?" It's not that she dislikes it. She'd never dye her own hair platinum blond mixed with lavender, but she'll admit it suits Mia—gives her a mysterious quality that's genuinely striking.
"Not a big fan of her music, are you?"
Erin blinks quickly before she answers.
"Well, I haven't really followed her career, if that's what you're asking."
Nell nods.
"I've been with her on both tours—the first one and this one. She dyes her hair a different color for each and won't change it until it's over. Says it brings her luck."
"What's her natural color?"
"Very light brown, I think."
Her phone vibrates again, but this time when she flips it over, she sees Mia's name on the screen.
Mia Wilder
I'm awake
The doctor holds up the screen for Nell to see and climbs down from the barstool.
"Go. I've got this."
"Thanks, Nell."