And we're back, beginning Ash and Leed's LONG CLIMB toward the end of their story. Not long in chapters really...just long in time-lapse. Pretty much all of the remaining chapters of this book will have time gaps....let's check in with Leed as he wraps up the Double Impact Tour and reflects on his summer...
Leed, Four and Half Months Later
Matt collars me in the now familiar way as we belt out our last line of the last show of the Double Impact Tour. Although, last is a relative term. We've been saying last show for six weeks now, and the promoters keep asking us to extend, and the bands keep voting to rock on.
Once you conjure magic, it's hard to wrestle it back into the hat.
Matt's grinning at me, giving me the nod to close it out as he releases me and steps away. I'm surprised. He usually has the last word. My throat suddenly feels...thick as I yell, "Thank you, Austin Texas!"
Him stepping away from the mic feels like he really means it this timeâabout it being the last show. He's been the one most eager to get back to routine, because Lane has started kindergarten and he's missing out on a lot of firsts at home right now. So far, our new label president and Trace have been talking him into keeping it going, but looking in his eyes, I can tell he's done. This is the last date.
And the way he's gripping my shoulder hard as he steps decidedly out of our spotlightâit feels like it means something more. It feels...big. Like he's giving me something he might not take back again.
It doesn't feel right. The man's nowhere near done. I take a giant step backwards, and the lights follow me. I sling an arm over his shoulders, returning the rough shake and giving him the chin tip and then the head bow of much love and respect. "Thank you Skid Marcs, it's been a great ride! Let's do it again next summer!"
The crowd takes up a chant.
Skid Marcs, Skid Marcs, Skid Marcs...
Matt laughs. "There's something for going on out on top, and I'm not sure it gets better than this...but we'll see! Thank you, Austin!"
I get it now. The shit Kat always gives me about leaving her Leed-stained with post show hugs. Because after the man-hug, Matt gives me, I'm pretty sure I'm wearing more of his sweat than he is.
Trace gets the rest. He swings off his guitar and embraces his dad like they just won a war.
Well, it has sort of been a battlefied. I thought Soundcrush's first tour was Official Insanity, but Skid Marcs can rockstar us under the table any given night of the week. Bar fights, stage diving, reckless dares (uh, think Houdini in the hotel pool) these cats are unafraid to free in their inner Jackass.
Then there's been the usual drama.
Skid Marcs guitarist is going through a divorce and his soon-to-be-ex has been dropping by hotels with a very ugly attitude.
Bodie missed shows twice on short notice because there were some problems with Marley's kid back in the A, and apparently, where Marley needs to be, Bodie will follow. Which didn't sit well with Arabella, but she only made mini waves compared to Mrs. Jax.
In other news, Row has been making frequent visits out to the shows. Matt caught wind that Riley and Row are having trouble with the idea that no fraternization in the workplace means you don't still sleep together whenever you feel like it. One night about a month ago, Matt strong-armed me to help him deliver a little lecture. "I need a wing-man to make sure I don't beat the living shit out of Riley, and I damn sure can't take Trace, because this shit with Ross and Gina has him unsteady as fuck. I can't take one of my pals, either. They don't need to know your manager can't seem to stay out of my daughter's VIP."
"VIP? That's what we are calling it?"
"Yeah. Very Improper Pussy."
I fucking lost my shit. Only Matt would say that about his daughter.
It was less funny however, minutes later he when bribed the hotel manager to let us into Riley's suite and we walked in on a mortified Row and Riley, whom scrambled to cover themselves in bedsheets.
Matt sighed and swigged on a bottle of tequila as he settled himself against a piece of bedroom furniture.
"Kids, it's like this. By my count, you are about five fucks past anybody's acceptable count for break-up sex."
Riley nearly choked at that.
"I like you Riley, I really fucking do," Matt continued, waving the bottle of tequila, "but I'm not going to let you ruin my daughter's reputation as a serious artist. This doesn't work. It never works." He takes another swallow. "Well, I take that back. It does work, one way. If you manage your spouse's solo career, that sometimes works. But that's only assuming the marriage is solid. So here I am, giving you the goddamn ultimatum again. Riley, do not fuck my daughter ever again unless a) you are no longer Strut's manager or b) one day in the distant future, she quits the band and goes solo, and you put a ring on it. I mean it this time. I'm out of fucking patience and I will end you in this industry. Row, do not crawl into you manager's bed and tempt him ever again, unless you want to lose all credibility in your band. I know you can hear me under that pillow, Rowan!!!You aren't a goddamn ostrich, you know!!!!" Matt passed the bottle to me. "Anything you want to add, Leed?"
I took a long swig and said, "Yeah. I'm so fucking sorry about this, Riley."
Riley sighed and took his glasses off, throwing them on the nightstand as he covered his face with his hands, then looked down at the lump that was Row, her grey curls peaking out from underneath the pillows where she was hiding. He put a hand affectionately on her head."Not your fault, Leed. Completely mine. I just...bloody hell, I miss her and it makes me lose all reason."
"Feel that, Brother," I assured him, because not having Ash with me was trippin' me up right about that time, too.
And I'd like to say that's the gist of the tour drama, but it wouldn't be a tour if Madam didn't throw shit off balconies. This time it was Mac throwing Adam's favorite Ibanez off the balcony because he didn't come "home" to their suite two nights in a row. These Skid Marcs' dudes do not let anybody give up the party easy, and Adam is just too nice to tell them to fuck off before he's shit-faced and passing out in Jax's suite.
Trace called a Soundcrush band meeting that was basically going to be a Madam intervention but Skid Marcs waltzed in and tried to take the blame for corrupting Adam. Mac wasn't having it.
"He's a goddamn grown-ass man. If he can't say no to you pushing shots on him, Artie, how am I supposed to trust he's saying no to fangirls pushing their tits into his hands while I'm down the hall nursing our daughter?"
"Hey that's not fair, and you know it," Adam grumbled. "I've never given you any reason to accuse me of being unfaithful."
"Right, I forgot. Your dick sleptwalk into Arabella's mouth last tour..."
"Goddammit, I can't be held responsible for morning wood and that crazy bitch's depravity!" Adam snapped, leaping up as he walked the floor with Lennon.
"Watch what the fuck you say. That crazy bitch is, unbelievably, still a big part of my life," Bodie hopped up, waltzed to the kitchen, and got energetic with the refrigerator, rustling Perrier and slamming doors.
Adam bowed his head. "Fuck, Bodes. I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. She's...doing better lately. I shouldn't have called her a crazy bitch."
"Whatever, man. That night, she was. It was fucked up times. It was too much partying. She's straight now. She's told you she's sorry for it. I just wish we could move past it."
I caught Marley's eye. She gave me a tiny headshake. Ah, like me, she doesn't seem to think Arabella is clean. Bodie sees what he wants to see, when it comes to that girl.
"That was my fault, Bodie, for bringing it up," Mac said wearily. "I'm sorry. I'm trying."
"Alright, alright. Can we put a pin in the Arabella Issue? Cause god knows, it's not as solvable as the Madam crisis," Matt intervened, taking the baby from Adam.
"Agreed," Bodie hopped up on the counter and stoically crunched into an apple. Adam and Mac shrugged.
"Great. Now. Madam. First of all...where's the nanny?" He pointed at Riley. "Get her down here. Madam Rule number one: Get on a fucking routine and use the nanny every day for regular breaks. The only time I ever see Lennon with the nanny is when you are on stage. No wonder you are ready to kill each other. You are working too hard not to have a little down-time. Next order of businessâAdam, get your shit together. This partying beef Mac has is one hundred percent valid. You don't marry your bandmate and bring your kid on tour and then party like a single guy."
I snorted at that. It's easier on these older guys. Except for Matt, most of their kids are grown. Their wives come and go from the tour, so they get the best of both worlds. Nobody's under the pressure that Madam is, but then again, I guess they've all been through it at some point.
"Thank you!" Mac beamed at Matt and glared at Adam.
"Also this partying problem is one hundred percent your fault, Sweetheart," Matt added. "You keep telling him to go have a drink down the hall while you hang with the baby. Nope. Nope. And nope. Madam Rule Number Two: Party together or don't party at all. Maybe you hit the after party together every third show or whatever works for both of you."
"I'd honestly rather hang with Lennon, if Adam would just temper himself at the parties..."
"I honestly don't give a shit what you'd rather do," Matt shakes his head at her sweetly. "It ain't just about your preferences. It's about a happy band marriage, a happy band, and a happy tour. You need to be able to trust your husband and your husband needs to know you still like to hang with him, too. Take one for the team and party like a rock star, 'kay babe?"
Adam puffed up. "Yeah, babe. What the Old Man said." Mac shot Adam a bird, but also gave him a begrudging grin.
Matt handed off Lennon to the nanny and asked, "Is Lennon sleeping in your room or in Madam's suite?" When she answers that Mac always keep her in her bedroom, Matt sighs. "I can't believe I even have to give you guys Rule Number Three. Hello? Baby-Free Fuck Nights. Mac, the man has to fight off fangirls like a he's gladiator. It's not cool that he's cockblocked by his offspring every single night. And Adam, you can't expect your wife not to get tense if you are making the time to get shit-faced with the boys but not the taking the time to love her up right."
"Jesus, Matt..." Adam rubbed his face.
"No, he's right," Dom grunted "What in fuck is wrong with you kids? You guys are acting like old people."
"They're just newb parents," Matt supplied.
"Okay, I guess I see your point. We probably need a little more Madam time without Lennon." Mac said. "Although for the record, we do fuck...but mostly it's quickies in the shower while she's watching Baby Einstein in the swing..."
"Jesus, Mac..." Adam said with the exact same tone he used before.
"What!?!?!" she snaps. "I'm not having all these Skid Marcs guys play me out to be a fucking Ice Queen, I have a reputation to uphold..."
Adam grins at her. "Nobody could ever accuse you of being an Ice Queen, Shorty. You are the sweetest, sexiest little thing to ever rock a rock star. Well, at least this rock star..."
She pales slightly, and bites her lip. "I'm so fucking sorry I went crazy and killed your Ibanez. I really do feel awful about that, Adam. I just...I was so hurt that you didn't come to bed two nights in a row and I was feeling a little...scared..."
He pulled her to her feet and hugged her. "I'm sorry, too. For acting like a bag of dicks and getting so drunk I forgot my truth: that your bed is where I wanna live and die. Fuck the Ibanez. I don't care about that. You are my life. I'm sorry I made you feel hurt and scared."
As Madam kissed and made up, Jax said, "Damn. If I were better at spinning my fuck-ups like that, I might not being in this shitstorm of a divorce right now."
So yeah, we've had our share of drama this tour. The one drama free zone has been me and Ash. Our biggest problem dragged ass to Germany in a straight-jacket four and a half months ago, and the rest of our issues? Well, it's like my Sunshine said. We problem-solve one day at a time.
I've loved the long weekends she's spent out on the road with us. What I've found in her has filled this tour with its best moments...even better than the old school crazy that Skid Marcs has brought. Never had the shiver of pride I feel when Ashlynn is watching me perform. Or the swell of affection when my best friend is snuggled up on the tour bus beside me laughing at all the rock star antics. Keeping my arm wrapped around Ashlynn at the after-party brings it to a whole new level fun times. The thought of the sun breaking in my bed long before dawn makes the air around us shimmer with anticipation while we work to loosen ourselves from the party and slip away to love each other.
But the long weekends have been too short, and there's no denying I've struggled with our separation more than I expected. That's when the tequila tempts me. It calls to me, promising the shadowy feels of our first kiss, and giving me the hope I won't feel how cold my bed is without her. And like Adam, I've run into a bit of trouble with my drinking. Unlike Adam, my woman hasn't felt the effects of it.
Tonight, I'm not tussling with tequila even though Ashlynn isn't here at our last show. It's bittersweet, because as much as I wanted her here, I know she's where she needs to be. She got under a headache a few days agoâthe first one since before Costa Ricaâand she needs to focus on bouncing back from that. She's better though...if she weren't, there is no way that Kat would have left her and flown out to Austin this morning.
This show was real, but the afterparty going on in hospitality feels like an anti-climax for me. We're doing a little wrap-up press, and a little networking, and a little reluctant laughing at the promoters who are talking about a few more dates, but soon the business starts to slip into a stream of alcohol fueled bullshit, and that's my cue.
My work here is done.
Trace is the only man I say farewells with. He knows before I clap it out with him. "You out?"
"Yeah," I grin. "Gotta go see a man about a boat." It's what I always say to him, or Adam, or Bodes, when I slink away after the shows to hop a plane and seek my Sunshine. It happens a lot. Sometimes, I just meet her for a late dinner or a quiet couple of hours in a hotel near LAX and then I step right back on a jet to meet the guys in the next city. They know, I'll always be back to hit my mark.
Trace nods solemnly. "This is a summer I'll never forget, man. Not as long as I live. It's been..."
"A dream. A fucking dream and we're livin' it," I feel my smile widen as he and I look around the room at our family. He releases Kat to do a thing he rarely doesâembrace me.
"Brother," he says and there is so much packed in those two syllables. Our past. Our bond. Our future.
That tension we always seemed to have over who was in charge? Gone. We've finally worked it out. It's his band, but it's my show.
"We'll see you at the end of the week, man. We're gonna take a few days in the A," Trace says but he doesn't look happy about it.
"That's good, man," I tell him, even though it may not be. His mom has moved back to Atlanta. She's not living with Ross, but they are doing counseling together. They want Trace to come. Being a rock star, he only agreed if he could bring an entourageânamely Kat and Marley. That should be interesting.
I hug Kat, and I'm out. I catch a nap on the flight, but with the time difference it's not too late when I get to my place. When I open the door, I follow the sounds of piano. I stand outside my music room and listen to the sad song Ashlynn is playingâShe Used To Be Mine, by Sara Bareilles.
My heart hurts at the pain in this song about a woman who struggles with the life she's been dealt, about a woman who wishes she could go back and change things in her past but knows she's can't. All she can do is get stronger each day, even though some days she doesn't recognize herself.
I sigh wearily. My summer has been a dream but my girl has had a flood of highs and lows, and this sad song fills me with dread. Only one thing makes her sad, usually.
Dr. Cameron Martin. Despite his excellent early prognosis, his lymphoma has hung in there, refusing him the victory over his cancer. Since their false restart early this summer, he's also refused to let Ashlynn help him. His mother finally came home to take care of him, because the increased chemo treatmentsâand probably heartbreakâhas put him low. Ashlynn gets updates through her mother and I can always tell when she's had bad news about Cam, even when I'm in another city and she's in LA or Costa Rica.
I know my girl well enough to hear the tears in her voice three thousand miles away.
She plays the song again, wallowing in her sadness and I feel a tightness in my throat.
You're not what I asked for.
If I'm honest, I know
I would give it all back
For a chance to start over
And rewrite an ending or two
For the girl that I knew
Jesus.
Her voice filled with sorrow shoots a hole right through me. Did Cam get bad news today? What would she change? Her accident? Or their break-up? Is she wishing she could go all the way back to the beginning and stay with him, just so she could give him the hope he needs right now? Would she give up everything we are to save him, like she was willing to risk herself and us to save Megan's memory?
This beautiful girl. So full of love. So giving. So willing to sacrifice. She's the most precious thing in the world to me, and she would give herself away like a thrift store donation.
My fists clench and my skin slicks with the sweaty need to hold onto her so fucking tight. I feel like a goddamn terror inside myself.
I must have made some noise or movement, because the song stops mid-chorus. "Leed?" she says anxiously.
I roll my neck and breathe. "Here, Sunshine," I go striding in like I'm taking the stage and catch her before she can even rise from the piano bench, sliding behind her, enveloping her in a giant bear hug.
I drop kisses along her shoulder. "It's over, baby. Matt called it for real. No more dates. I'm home for good, until we go to Atlanta to make the album. God, I've missed you. I'm not letting you out of my arms ever again." My words are light, but I wonder if she can tell, I'm holding on tight out of fear as much as love.
She twists to kiss me and her lips are tinged with the sorrowful desperation of the song that fell from them. I feel my spirit rising to soothe her feelings, no matter where they are sourced. I don't care if she's sad over Cam, if she regrets the place life has landed her, she's mine. Mine to love. Mine to protect. Mine to bring joy, no matter how hard it is sometimes.
We kiss sweet and slow and her lips twinge in smiles against mine as our tenderness makes broken sounds against the keys.
"I've missed you too. So much, so much." She slides herself to straddle me and presses her chest tight to mine, burying her face in my shoulder.
"You sounded like a fallen angel singing that sad song, baby," I coax gently. "What's going on?"
"Cam." One syllable like a punch to my gut. I was expecting it, but it still hurts.
"Yeah? How is Dr. Deserves-A-Swirly-For-Making-My-Girl-Sad?"
She laughs and pushes away, looking into my eyes. There's hope and light shaded with a little seriousness. "Dr. Cancer Survivor is just fine. Finally. He's in full remission."
A relief I'm surprised to feel floods me. Hell, I don't even like the guy, but I love a woman that will always love a part of him with part a of her, so I'm fucking glad he's not dying and taking that piece of her with him anytime soon.
I smooth her long tresses down her back, twisting them like a golden rope. "Yeah. Well, that's awesome news. You should be doing cartwheels, not dripping tears on the keys."
She turns back toward the keys and plays a couple of measures half-heartedly. "I'm not sad. I'm just so grateful he's going to be okay."
I give her a stern look. "Callin' bullshit on that one. I know what sad sounds like in song."
She turning toward me again, running a thumb over my lips. "My Lion with the sensitive soul. Okay, I was a little sad. He called me with the news and we talked for awhile and we agreed...to sever ties. We're not going to try to be friends. We're letting go. It's what's best."
I blink. Wow. I'm not even ashamed to say, the relief is now so strong, it washes me clean. This is unexpected but I'll take it. Still, I can see how it's sad. I kiss her forehead. "I get it. Goodbyes are hard."
She puts her hands on either side of my head, tilting up to gaze into her eyes. "You don't get it. I was sad because...I was thinking back to the early days...high school, college. And I realized...if I could go back to one moment that would change everything...it would be the night I met you. Leed...I'd never felt anything like the way you made me feel. That hour I spent with you, I felt...alive. Free. If I could change anything in my life, it would be that night. I would have met your lips when you tried to kiss me. If I had followed my heart, all my instincts pulling me toward you, I think...everything would have changed from there."
Her words spin a thread of truth that spears me in the heart. She's right...that one kiss would have been all it took. I would have fallen hard. I would have chased her all the way home, to Duke, to the ends of the earth if that's what it took. Maybe she would have never suffered any of the hurts she's been through. Maybe Cam would have been hurt and pissed at being dumped but it would have been nothing compared to the years he's hurt over her now. Maybe I would have figured out how to trust in love by now, instead of swinging between feeling in sync with her and flailing in fear that we're going to lose our grasp on this slippery love.
But it doesn't matter now. We can't change the time lost. We can't change the bad shit. We can't pretend our obstacles don't exist. We can only hold onto what's good. And right now is good.
I kiss her temple, down her delicate cheekbone, the corner of her mouth. "Hmmm...that might be true, but you know what's more important?" I skip her mouth, kiss up her other check and push the words softly in her ear. "Me and You in the Here and Now." I put my lips close to hers. "Take that kiss you want right now and let's make some magic, Sunshine."
"I love you, Lion," She smiles at me and I close my eyes, basking in her radiance as she begins to tease my lips with hers.
I lean her back against the keys. She sighs as I peel away her clothes and replace them with caresses. We get deep in one another right there on the piano bench. We have giggly, grunty, musical sex as she grasps at the keys behind her for support.
It sounds terrible, but it sure is fun.
Awww, I just love these two. They always find happiness and good things together even when life is bittersweet. Don't worry, the good times have finally begun for Lash!