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“You’re taking me to school, right?” she queried.
“Yep, Stuart is driving us, and Harper will pick you up,” I informed her, glancing at Harper properly for the first time since I’d been in there.
My heart stuttered in my chest when I saw the tired, drawn look on her face and noted her eyelids were puffy. Shit, she’s been crying.
Matty had been busy with her back to us, putting my breakfast together on the plate, but turned to look pointedly at me. “You almost didn’t get any breakfast. Imagine sleeping in this morning of all mornings,” she admonished, as she put the plate in front of me.
“Sorry,” I mumbled. I never got to sleep until around 3:00 a.m.
“You feeling okay?” I glanced at Matty and saw her eyeing me with concern.
“Sure, I’m just tired. It must be the cold weather.” Cocking her head, she considered my answer and nodded before walking back to the sink.
Harper took her coffee and wandered over to the couch in the den at the end of the kitchen. Sitting down, she placed her coffee on the table and picked up her phone, then appeared to be texting with someone. I ignored her presence and focused on Layla again as I ate my breakfast.
As Layla and I chatted, I could feel Harper’s eyes on me. I wanted to look over at her, but I knew if I saw a hurt look on her face I’d have needed to say something; something that wouldn’t take five minutes or be resolved before I had to leave. What was I thinking? Truth was I had let my cock do the thinking for me because I was too busy feeling.
As I was finishing my food, Harper stood up, pulled her figure-hugging sweater into place and called out to Layla. “Go get your backpack and your coat, then put your pink sneakers on.”
Layla scooted down from the table and made for the kitchen door. Matty tied a plastic bag full of trash and left the kitchen to dispose of it as Harper approached me.
“That was a shitty move you made last night,” she muttered, as she walked past me and out of the door. I never went after her like I should have, and I didn’t reply.
I wasn’t proud of the way I left, but I wasn’t the one who had made the move this time, and nothing that happened changed the fact I had to leave.
By the time I went to the hallway to pick up my jacket, Layla was swaddled up in her coat, scarf, and gloves and was ready to go. Harper reminded her she’d pick her up, and instead of addressing me, she turned and headed upstairs. As Layla made for the door, I glanced over my shoulder and watched her go. When she was out of sight I turned my focus back on Layla.
“Weren’t you even going to say goodbye?” Matty asked as she came running from the kitchen. Turning to face her, I gave a sheepish grin, and she stepped forward and hugged me. “Sorry, this one distracted me,” I lied.
“Have fun, Cole. You deserve to be happy. And don’t worry about this little one; she’ll be fine with us. She’s loved and adored, so you have nothing to think about.” I smiled warmly and nodded.
“I’ll miss her and home every day, but I know she’s in the best hands,” I admitted ruefully and my throat constricted.
Hearing Matty talk about her, Layla hugged my leg and my heart squeezed tight because the reality of what I was doing brought a swell of emotion to my chest. Clearing my throat, I rubbed Layla’s back.
“All right, Baby, let’s get this show on the road.”
Road work had meant the usual route into the airport had been blocked, and I had been left with no choice but to run the gauntlet of this public display leveled at Cole Harkin, lead singer of the band, SinaMen.
As I entered the concourse I had my first reminder of my life as a celebrity. I was a little unnerved by the groups of guys who obviously recognized me, but they stood in a huddle glancing enviously while their girlfriends fawned over me. Some looked awkward and shy, but still gravitated toward me; and there were those that suddenly ran away from their partners and came running toward me.
I’d temporarily forgotten the manhandling aspect of my job where women grabbed my face in their hands and planted rough stolen kisses on my cheeks. Having my ass felt by strangers in public wasn’t my idea of fun either, but I had experienced all of those things by the time I’d passed through the airport concourse on my way to the VIP lounge.
Once I was safely on the plane, I had time to reflect on the steamy session between Harper and me. It was stupid letting it get to me because she had been the one to force things when I was in a highly emotional state after being given Grace’s letter.
Still, I figured a few weeks away from home would hopefully give us both the space to realize we were driven by lust. Living in close quarters the way we did, it was natural there would be some magnetism in the absence of anyone else.
The flight to LA gave the guys and I time to catch up, and it was the first time since Grace had died my heart wasn’t swamped in sorrow.
I’d all but forgotten what it was like to belly laugh, until Scuds told us a story involving a fan and we roared so hard I was breathless. Grace’s letter came to mind, it was one of the things she had mentioned, and I felt free to do it for the first time in years.
As a band we owned several houses, preferring not to stay in hotels on the West Coast whenever possible. Over the years we had acquired four properties with one in Seattle, San Francisco, Los Angeles and a place in a mountain celebrity community in the Mojave Desert.
As our label also had a studio out west, we had spent a lot of time there in the past and it gave us a break from hotel and tour bus life, if the stint away from home was a bit longer.
The transition from the airport to our place in LA was much smoother than the one I’d experienced at the start of the journey. Thankfully, the landing went smoothly and we were on the road to our home away from home in LA just after 1:00 p.m. Flying against time from east to west had bought us three extra hours on our day on the Pacific coast.
During the transfer, “Highway to Hell” blared from Fletch’s phone and he reached into his pocket and pulled it out.
