Not the way I hoped the man I loved would talk about our future family. But Colt’s big plans for our life together didn’t include having kids. At least, not yet.
I understood.
My childhood wasn’t perfect. I only remembered it that way. Colt didn’t even have memories to sustain him. The first time he took me to dinner, to a quiet little restaurant where everyone pretended not to recognize him, he’d told me with tears in his eyes about his hardscrabble childhood, his uncaring mother, his absent father.
It would take time for him to open up to the idea of family. To convince him that my dream—the front porch swing, the home overflowing with kittens and music and curly-haired toddlers and love—could come true for both of us.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“Don’t apologize. Not for that, anyway.” He moved restlessly away from the door, but there was no room to pace in the back of the tour bus. Nowhere to go. “The insurance company wants you to get drug tested.”
“What? No.”
“It’s a liability thing.” He shrugged. “You got a problem with it, talk to Zeke.”
“Zeke works for you.”
“That’s right. I pay him to handle this shit. Anybody else, he’d take care of it. But I told him I wanted to tell you personally.”
I was not going to argue. Arguing made everything worse. “I’ll do whatever you want.”
He shot me an exasperated look. “Iwantyou to be with me. But, angel, you’ve got to bewithme. One hundred percent. Not puking onstage. Not hiding on the bus.”
“I’m...”Sorry.Don’t saysorry.“Not like you,” I said. “I don’t like everybody staring at me.”
“But you’re beautiful,” Colt said.
He said that all the time.“You’re so beautiful. You’re so talented.”I loved his belief in me. But I had trouble believing him. It was getting harder and harder to perform, to pretend, to be perfect. To look perfect for his fans and the selfie line. I’d stopped going with him to promo events. Stopped singing an opening set. And with each failure, each withdrawal, he got a little more impatient, a little less understanding.
“I’m uncomfortable,” I said.
“You need to get over it,” he said. “You could be a star. Hell, you are a star. You got two Grammy nominations and a CMA award.”
“That was you,” I said, giving him the praise he craved. “Best Male Vocalist.AndAlbum of the Year.”
“You wrote the songs, angel.”
I felt like an impostor. “That’s different. I’m no good at this, Colt. Being onstage all the time.”
“Not if you’re going to throw up.” Colt ran a hand through his sun-streaked hair. “Look, babe, this sucks. But Zeke and I were talking. Maybe you should go home.”
Home. The word wrapped around my heart and squeezed.
“We are going home.” I smiled at him, but my face felt wrong. “On Sunday.”
“Not me. You.” His eyes met mine. “We’re three, maybe four, hours away. Jimmy can drive you there tomorrow.”
“But...” I sank down on the bed. I couldn’t have heard him correctly. “You’re coming with me.”
“I have back-to-back shows. Charlotte. Raleigh. I can’t take off because you want somebody to hold your hand.”
“But the wedding... Colt, my sister is getting married on Sunday.”
Everyone was expecting to meet him. He was the first man I’d ever loved. The only one I’d had sex with. Hehadto come with me.
“Which is why this is such good timing,” he said. “I can tell everybody you’re going home for your sister’s wedding. That should shut up the rehab rumors, at least.”
Controlling the story. I understood that, too.
