Chasing the Music: For the Love of Music Book 0.5 (15 page)

But his words were cut off when the room went black and she clutched her sides.

How did it get so cold?

Lita sat upright in bed, the familiar ache in her body over wanting Griffin but not getting him. She shivered. The room was dark and silent and way too empty. The air felt stiff, and her chest tightened.

She could not keep this up.

Sixteen

Griffin couldn’t sleep. Her smile over the decaf coffee he’d gotten for her on their way back. Her song.
Her song
. Something only he’d heard. And
her
playing
his
song. Dream of dreams, only so much better because she was still rock star Lita James, but she was also his friend, Lita, and that counted for so much.

He had to think about Stacy. Curvy body. Full lips. Adorable smile. Griffin spent hours tossing in bed trying to think about Stacy before giving up.

Maybe just imagining Lita wouldn’t be bad.

He thought about sitting in a studio with her. Watching her get frustrated and wanting to hurl her guitar across the room because she wanted everything perfect. He imagined the determined look on her face when she went back to work. Tweaked the riffs. Tweaked the lyrics. Got the song just right.

Softer into Midnight.

Even tough chick singers had softer albums sometimes. Everyone did. He wanted to explore that with her.

He thought about being the guy she asked for coffee in the morning and the guy she leaned against while she wrote lyrics… When she’d slow down in her writing, he’d touch her arm with the back of his hand. Slowly. And then slide his fingers under the straps of her tank and maybe touch her neck until he had her attention. Her smile. Her kiss. Her body.

What an amazing thing to be with someone so up and down and
passionate
.

Griffin rolled over in bed. No sleep for him. No way. The second he thought about being with Lita the way he was with Stacy, guilt started to gnaw at his insides.

Letting himself think through that fantasy definitely hadn’t been a good idea.

Night after night Griffin seemed to run into Lita, or Lita seemed to run into Griffin and they’d struck up a friendship, at least Griffin thought they had. The underlying tension and feeling of want hadn’t gotten any better, he’d just gotten used to it. And every day his conversations with Stacy grew shorter or stranger because he never knew what to say. As they got closer to the south, he still had no idea how to reconcile his heart and his head and all the things he knew were right.

Seventeen

“Why are we doing this again?” Lita asked Dave as they drove to Houston’s, a restaurant in Memphis that Dave’s friend, Max, had picked out. The back of the limo was like the back of a million different limos. Crazy that she used to think this was special.

It had been days and cities since the awkward almost-kiss, but there hadn’t been any backlash. She thought she’d ruined their friendship, but she hadn’t. The opposite. It was still hard to be in the same room as him and know that his heart rested with someone else, but Lita craved the time they did have. Griffin was totally unbothered by “Lita James” and hanging out with him was just…easy.

Dave scrolled on his phone. “Max is about to start managing Christian Meyer’s solo career and is leaving Kincaid.”

“I know, but Max’s move affects me how?” Lita asked.

Apelu shifted in his seat, always watching out the window.

Dave sighed. “You do know who I’m talking about, yes?”

“Of course I do. I believe I was the one who asked you what Christian was up to. I had a—”
A conversation with one of the crew where he suggested I talk with Christian Meyer
… She clamped her mouth shut.

“He’s a good connection to have. Max is a bit of a miracle worker in the business anyway, and he’s in town for a family wedding or something. Felt like a good opportunity.”

“So, we’re here to kiss ass.” She grinned at Dave. “Why didn’t you just say that?”

Dave shook his head. “Because I wanted to retain some of my manhood. Thank you, dearest Lita, for stripping that away.”

Lita mock bowed and Apelu shook in laughter next to her.

“This, I’m a pro at.” Lita winked.

Unease snipped away at her, though. Christian Meyer had been a huge name in rock since before she was in kindergarten. Would he really want to waste time with her?

Lita stared at the massive steak, mashed potatoes, asparagus… She closed her eyes because the food felt more like a mountain to climb than anything else. When had that happened? Why was she focused on the food instead of the business?

She thought back to breakfast. A few bites of croissant like most mornings and coffee. But… What else had she eaten, really? She’d been picking at her food but there had been so many extra stressful things lately—the tour, Griffin, feeling weak…

“Did you have anything specific in mind?” Max asked her over his wine glass.

Lita stared at him for a moment. Over tanned, dress shirt with pressed jeans and shiny shoes, but he was so much more relaxed than his pretentious prick outfit—in both posture and words. At the same time, so much rested with him. If Griffin was right—if her softer songs had a chance—the man across the table held the best chance at success. Going off her normal sound with Christian Meyer might make sense to her fans. Might lessen some of the backlash.

“In mind for what?” Her mind grasped at a blank. She’d been staring at her food. “I’m sorry.”

“Dave and I thought it might help both you and Chris to come up with a duet kind of thing. Bring his crowd to you and your crowd to him. People eat that shit up.” Max slid another bite of steak into his mouth. “Would you be up for that?”

Her night with Griffin hit her. “Actually, yeah. Yeah, Christian is going acoustic on this one, right?”

Max sat back with a small smile. “Yes he is. You did your research.”

“Nah.” She waved him off. “The luthier we brought with us has done his research.”

Dave’s brows came together in confusion and Lita said, “Griffin.”

“The new kid.” Dave nodded. “Ryker’s brother.”

“That’s the one.”

“So, you might be interested?” Max asked. “Chris should be home from camp about the time your tour is up. Maybe after you’re rested and he’s back in his routine, we could get you two together to lay a few tracks.”

“Yeah. Sure. Sounds great. I’ve been working on a few new things.” She smiled wide. “Camp?”

“Rehab.” Max smirked. “Camp sounds juvenile, but infinitely better. He was trying to do a good thing by having his Rolling Stone interview while he was in rehab, and it totally worked. Huge fan love for that move. That kind of thinking is why I left when Chris left Kincaid. That, and one guy is infinitely easier to deal with than a band. Not that he’s my
only
, but you get the idea.”

“Ah.” Lita tried to give him a good smile, but her stomach rolled with the smell of the butter and cream and grease.

“You haven’t touched your food.” Dave pointed.

Lita frowned at her plate. “I got hungry an hour or so ago and ate like three power bars,” she lied. “Maybe they have soup?”

Anything easier to eat. Or simpler on her stomach. Or less weighted. Why did they have to do a dinner meeting?

“It’s ninety outside.” Max took another bite. “But you could ask.”

With both men staring at her, the whole idea of not being able to do the simple task of scooping up potatoes and putting them in her mouth felt childish. Stupid. She picked up her fork and twirled the end in her mashed potatoes like when she was a kid and didn’t want to eat.

One bite. Surely she could manage a bite while they waited for the server so they could ask about soup. One bite. Before thinking too hard, she slid the fork into her mouth with a teaspoon of mashed potatoes. Immediately they stuck to the roof of her mouth and she pushed her tongue around on them, but it felt like the mush was expanding with each movement. Her stomach rolled over. And then rolled over again. What was wrong with her?

Oh, crap. She was about to throw up all over the table. In front of Max, who could lead to Christian Meyer, which could lead to big things in her career.

She closed her eyes and imagined every eye in the restaurant trained on her.

Her hands shook.

Her chest tightened.

“I’m not feeling so great.” She rested one hand on her stomach and snatched her water with another. Maybe a sip of water.

The second the water hit her mouth, it was as if the water had turned into potatoes. She leapt from the table and ran for the ladies, her stomach heaving just as she found a toilet.

Lita kneeled and shoved the door closed behind her, resting her face on the cool tile wall.

Please don’t let anyone come in.

She worked on breathing with her eyes closed. In. Out. In. Out. Wiped the corners of her mouth with toilet paper before attempting to stand. Her knees shook and her thighs quivered as she slowly regained her ability to be upright.

What was going on with her? She tried to think back again at the last time she’d sat down with a real meal and eaten. It had been… Well, whatever. She was on the road. She always did more snacks than meals on the road. But even her snacks. It was if something always interrupted her. Her thoughts. More news…
Stress.

She thought about the other night and her odd panicking before the show.

Lita walked back toward the table and rested against her chair. “I really need my bed.”

“Thanks for meeting with me.” Max smiled the kind of businessman smile she’d gotten used to. It said they were probably going to make a lot of money together and she wished so hard she felt good enough to celebrate that.

Dave nodded and Lita moved for the door. She’d never been a big eater, but she’d always been able to eat. It was one thing to not want to eat on a bus and in green rooms and hotel rooms, but when faced with a fantastic meal at a great restaurant… How was she not able to take one stupid bite?

Who even had that problem?

The car moved back toward the hotel and Lita pressed her face against the glass as she blinked over and over. She had to start really paying attention to her body. And now.

The second the car stopped, she leapt out, clutching her leather jacket in front of her and letting her blond hair fall over her face as she pushed into the hotel.

Her room. That’s what she needed. Her room. Only Bridget was there, and Bridget meant hovering. No. No hovering. Not now. Her chest tightened further. Painfully tight. Like a vice, but logically she knew it was her head and not her heart doing this to her. She was so horribly
weak.

“Apelu?” she asked.

“Darlin’?” he teased.

Was she doing this? Was it okay? “Griffin’s room?” she wheezed.

“You okay?” His large arm rested behind her. “I’ll take you.”

The elevator lurched and nearly sent her stomach into another uproar.

She followed Apelu down the hall, clutching her sides as if she’d fall apart if she were to let go. Her chest. Tighter. Her lungs. Tighter. Her head screaming louder that she was weak. So weak for letting this happen to her body.

It’s in my head. In my head. In my head…

He gave the door a couple bangs and it jerked open a minute later to reveal Ryker—his hair gelled and messy, reeking of cigarette smoke.

“I’m headed out.” Ryker glanced behind him. “Assume you’re after Griff?”

Lita nodded, her throat swelling, and Ryker slid around them.

Griffin appeared next in a white tank and pajama pants. Slung low on his hips. Looking...way too good for them to be alone.

Apelu backed up. “Walk her to her room or call me?” he asked Griffin, and Griffin nodded.

Lita stepped inside, feeling almost as childish and stupid as she had in the restaurant. She gasped for air again. And then again. “I can’t keep this up. I’m so weak. So weak.”

The door closed behind Apelu and she clasped her hands over her mouth as the first sob hit. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Her voice stretched through the room in a long whine.

Griffin’s arms were around her in a second, and she let go, as if all the pieces of her were falling around her on the floor. Her legs weakened, and she leaned against the warmth of him as he held her up. Her body shook. She’d been holding on to things she didn’t know she’d been holding on to. Every uncertainty and stress came out in a flood of tears.

“I’m going to walk backwards so we can sit, okay?” he whispered, and she let him lead her.

She didn’t notice the moment when she went from standing to sitting. She didn’t know how she ended up half in his lap with his arms around her, but she let herself cry and let herself be held. And she breathed. And she wasn’t sorry about where she’d ended up.