Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 81520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
“Can you go?” Felix asks before I can finish my sentence.
“I can’t,” I tell him, hating the heartbroken look on his face. “This weekend is all about you and your daddy. I want you to have tons of fun and call me every night before bed to tell me how your day went, okay?”
“Okay,” he says, nodding.
“I love you, and I’ll miss you.” I pull him into a hug and inhale the scent of his shampoo.
“Love you, Mommy.”
The moment David and Felix take off, I break down sobbing and call my best friend, needing her.
“Did they leave?” she asks, already knowing what was going down tonight.
“Yeah. I know this is what I wanted, but…”
“No,” she says in a stern voice. “This is not what you wanted. You wanted a husband who would love and cherish you, who would treat you with respect and honor the vows he made. Unfortunately, David turned out to be a rapist asshole. Now, you’re doing what you have to do, not what you wanted to do, and if it means you cry, then fucking cry, and I’ll sit on the phone with you while you do.”
And that’s exactly what I do. I cry over the phone and to Kaylee until the tears dry up, and I fall asleep with the phone to my ear, wishing I could fix my broken life.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CAMDEN
“You okay?” I ask Layla as she rolls her suitcase toward the waiting black Cadillac SUV. She’s dressed in a pair of dark wash skinny jeans, a thick coat since it’s cold as shit, and boots that almost reach her knees. Her brown hair is up in a loose ponytail, and her makeup is a bit on the heavier side—almost like she’s trying to cover something up. It doesn’t look bad. It’s just not how I’ve seen her wear it since we’ve reconnected.
“Is that your way of telling me I look like shit?” she grumbles. “Thanks.”
Declan snorts from inside the SUV. “Sounds like operation Get Layla is going smoothly.”
I reach in and punch him in the arm, then round the vehicle so I can open the door for Layla. She hands our driver her suitcase, and he throws it into the trunk. As she’s getting in, her eyes land on the other vehicle.
“What’s that?”
“Our security team. We don’t really need them much in New York since the people here are too busy to give a shit about us. But LA is another story. We have a team of four, and they have to go everywhere we go when we’re in LA. Two of them were actually with us at Lush, but they make it a point to blend in unless we need them.”
She nods and gets in, scooting to the other side, so I can sit next to her. Declan’s already moved to the second row to sit next to Braxton, and Gage is sleeping in the front seat. Since the vehicle is warm inside, she unzips her coat and shrugs out of it, exposing a tight long-sleeved shirt that shows off the swells of her perfect round breasts.
“What’s wrong?” I ask her when the vehicle lurches forward to head to the airport.
“I couldn’t sleep. Felix is with David for the weekend. It’s our first time away from each other for this long.” Tears well in her eyes, and my heart shatters at her voice’s broken tone.
Without thinking, I pull her into my arms and kiss her temple. “I’m so sorry you’re going through this.” I can understand on a certain level because of my parents being in the music industry. They had to travel a lot, and oftentimes, we couldn’t go. But I’ve never been on the other side of it. When I have kids one day, I’ll be where she is, only it won’t always be for just a weekend but for weeks at a time. It’s the downside of the business we’re in. Touring is where we make the majority of our money. It’s why so many artists go on tour every year. Why we’ve been going on tour every year. My dad’s advice was to hit the iron while it’s hot, so later, when we’re ready to settle down, we can travel less like he did.
“I’ll get through it,” she says. I expect her to pull away since she’s so hell-bent on taking shit slow, so I’m a bit surprised when she snuggles against me and sighs into my chest. A few minutes later, the soft sound of her snoring tells me she’s fallen asleep. She stays like this for the entire ride. I use my available hand to go through my phone, double-checking the agenda Jill sent us. While my dad is our band manager, we also have a tour manager—Jill—who handles everything we do on the road, whether it’s a tour or a festival like the one we’re attending this weekend.