“And you have? I didn’t see you put a ring on a man’s finger.”
He glared at me, his jaw flexing.
“You’re telling me you love men just as publicly as you love women?”
“If I was in love with a man,” he said, “yeah, I would.”
And there it was.If.
If I was in love with a man.
Translation:I’m not in love with you.
Of course he wasn’t.
Because none of this was worth the risk, for him, if he didn’t love me.
“So you’re telling me if you and me and Danica were together,” I pressed on, “you’d tell everyone?”
“Fuck yeah, I’d tell everyone.”
“It’s that easy for you.”
“Who cares if it’s easy. It justis.” He looked me up and down, like he was seeing me in a whole new light and he didn’t like it one bit. Like all the shit he’d just accused me of was a test, and I’d fucking failed. “You’re telling me you really wouldn’t tell anyone?”
“I mean, I don’t think it’s mandatory to put out a press release the second we fuck or fall in love.”
“Then I guess there’s no point in fucking or falling in love.”
“Yeah,” I said, getting to my feet. “I guess not.”
He stood up, and I slipped away before he could get in my face. I headed for the door. This was really how he wanted this to end? Just sit me down and give me the wholethe marriage and the band are more important than youtalk?
“I don’t expect everyone to live like I do,” he said behind me, and I stopped.
I turned to look at him, standing there in his black-on-black clothes, all tattoos and attitude, looking like the rock star he was. A man who seemed to care so little what people thought about him, and yet cared so damn much, his whole life was about entertaining and pleasing a crowd of strangers, night after night. Hypocrite much?
“You make your own choices,” he said evenly. “And you live with them. I hope you stand behind them.”
“I do.”
“Good. You chose to join the Players. I chose that, too. I also chose to marry Danica. And if you think for one second I’d let anyone get in bed with us who doesn’t own it, you’re fucking sadly mistaken.”
“Yeah, you’ve made your position pretty clear.”
I walked out. And by the end of the day, Ash and Danica were gone.
Gone from the hotel. Gone from the tour.
I didn’t realize until the next morning, when I stumbled back into my hotel room after a hell of a long night—a night that I didn’t want to end, because I didn’t want a new day to start when they weren’t here with me—that they’d left me a gift.
Actually, Danica had left me a gift. It had her sweet, soft touch all over it, wrapped in a flowery gift bag and tissue paper. It even smelled like her.
It was a T-shirt that said I TRIED TO BE GOOD, BUT THEN THE BASS KICKED IN. And it came with a note.
See you again soon. Love, A & D.
ChapterFour
