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“I’m always going to be an overprotective, possessive bastard. I don't think you can change that about me.”
She leaned back to look up at him. “I know. I don’t want to change you. But you know I’ve been looking after myself a long time.”
“Not very well,” he muttered.
“Hey!” She whacked her hand against his chest. “That’s not very nice.”
“But it’s true. I just want to look after you.”
“I know. I’m not… I’m not used to that. The guys and Addie look out for me. But you’re on a whole other level.”
“When I do something, I do it well.”
She smiled up at him. “You do. Just remember that I can make some decisions for myself.”
Brand sighed. “It’s difficult, but I’ll try. As long as you remember that not everything is your fault. Your mother’s death certainly wasn’t.”
“I’ll try,” she told him. “And some things are my fault. Like freaking out the other night.”
“You’ve burned yourself out working too hard. It’s no wonder you were panicking and not yourself.”
“The idea of picking up my guitar made me feel ill,” she admitted. “I was shaking and finding it hard to breathe. It felt like I was falling apart. My heart was racing. It was awful.”
“Fuck, baby. What can we do? Do you need to talk to someone? Slow down?” he asked.
“I was hoping that taking a break would help. That I might be able to slip into Little headspace and just relax. Instead, I’ve been ill this whole time. I don’t know.”
“Whatever you need, we’ll get you, understand?” He slid her around so her legs straddled his and she faced him. “Do not worry, we’ll find a way that you can still perform and not feel ill or panicky.”
“But what if I go on tour and I can’t do it? What if I freak out again?”
“We’ll handle that when it happens. Did you bring your guitar with you?” he asked.
“No.”
“Well, how would you feel about singing with me when we get back on tour? Just a couple of songs. No guitar, no expectations.”
“Really? Sing with you?” Wonder filled her. She’d dreamed about doing that.
“Yes, baby. It would be my privilege.”
Silly Daddy. Didn’t he know the privilege was entirely hers?
CHAPTER 16
It wasn’t until the next morning that she remembered the basket.
Daddy, the sneaky little toad, must have hidden it away. Because when he’d put her to bed last night she hadn’t seen it.
After she’d told him about her guilt over her mom’s death and she’d discovered he’d spoken to Addie and hidden her phone, he’d distracted her with a movie.
Then Addie had called back. By the time she’d spoken to her, then had dinner, which Brand had insisted on feeding her, she’d been exhausted.
Brand had slept with her again last night. It was a delicious torture, having him so close yet not being able to do anything.
This morning, she’d woken up feeling heaps better. In fact, she almost felt well enough to leave the room. But she didn’t want to give anyone her germs, so she’d wait.
“Daddy, the basket!” she said. “I didn’t get to look in it!”
