LOW: A Rockstar Romance (16 page)

Chapter 31

Zoe

My alarm went off far earlier than I wanted it to.

Low sighed and rolled over, pulling his long body around mine. We fit together so perfectly that I could just stay here in this bed forever and know that it was where I belonged.

But...

"Low honey? I gotta get back."

He made a groaning sound and pulled back to stretch. "Are we getting close to Froot Loops time?"

I leaned over and kissed the tip of his nose. "Thanks for getting why that's important. "

"Family," he nodded. "Yeah."

I flopped back over and turned the alarm off on my phone. Then, out of habit, I went to check my email for any word on my applications.

"Hey, what's your Wi-Fi password?" I asked.

He stretched. "It's not locked," he said, rubbing his eyes, then reaching over and pointing at my screen. "It's that one."

"You named your Wi-Fi 'Ruthless?'"

"I was on tour at the time and my real estate agent set it up for me. I never bothered to change it."

I cocked my head at him. "Seriously?"

"What's wrong with that?"

I shrugged again. "I don't know, I guess, it just seems little obvious, don't you think? Aren't you worried about being hacked?"

He wagged his finger at me. "See, therein lies the brilliance. It's too obvious. People would think there was no way that I could possibly be that easy, and therefore they'd try everything else first."

I shook my head. "What do I know? I'm about as far from a technology type person as possible."

"Aren't you a writer?"

I scrolled through the menus on my phone. "If typewriters were still a thing that were used, I would totally be down for that. Clacking keys, the smell of correction fluid," I shivered dramatically. "Oh baby, gets me all worked up."

He smiled that smile of his, the one that made my toes wiggle involuntarily. "Hey now," he said, voice low and thrilling. "I don't want to be getting jealous of inanimate objects here, but, down baby girl."

I laughed. "On the list of things that turn me on, you're in a very close race with my antique Smith Corona."

He made an aggrieved noise, but I ignored him while I checked my email. Hitting refresh five times in a row did absolutely nothing. Nobody had contacted me yet.

With a dramatic sigh, I dropped my phone over the side of the bed, and flopped backward, allowing the scent of him to billow up from the sheets in a warm, enveloping cloud. "Why do you smell so good?" I demanded.

He climbed over me. "Just lucky I guess," he murmured, taking my lip between his teeth.

*****

We were almost late for Froot Loops time, but Low drove like a maniac and got me there in time to see my brother pop the last artificially colored circle into his mouth. "Zo-weee!" Max shouted and padded over for a one-armed hug.

"I'll see you later?" Low asked, ruffling Max's hair as he looked at me.

"How much later?" I wanted to know.

He rolled his eyes. "There's some shit I need to check in on with the band, and my manager is up my ass to sign on to some sponsorship deal, which means I have all this paperwork I need to pretend I understand."

I went up on tiptoe and kissed his frowning mouth. "You call me, okay?"

"I'll be looking at those pictures until I see you again," he warned.

"That sounds like a threat."

"Nope. A promise."

I laughed and kissed him one more time, then watched him pull away from my driveway with my heart swelling up bigger and bigger until it felt like it was going to push up out of my mouth, forcing the words "I love you" to tumble from my lips.

It hit me in the chest like a ton of bricks, nearly knocking me backward. "I love you," I mouthed. His car disappeared around the corner and I smiled, thinking of telling it to him in person.

I couldn't wait.

"Wanna go out!"

I looked down and suddenly realized that my brother had been yelling at me the entire time I stood like a statue at the front door. "Wanna go out!" Max demanded. He hung from the doorknob, bouncing repeatedly on his toes.

I shook my head, clearing the fantasy from my brain.

"You need to go potty first."

"Wanna go out!" he shrieked. This had been happening a lot lately. He'd get stuck on a phrase or an idea and there'd be no dislodging it.

"Max. Find my eyes." He blinked once, touched his eye, and then looked up at me. "Max. First potty, then the park."

"First potty, the park," he echoed. And just like that, the power struggled was over and he tripped happily to the bathroom. I slumped against the doorframe and closed my eyes.

"Need help!" he called from the bathroom.

My eyes snapped open. "Good talking, bud," I called, making sure to praise him for using words instead of shrieking. I stood in the doorway to the bathroom. "What do you need help with?"

"Need help," he said, tugging at his waistband.

"Oh buddy, you're getting too big for these pants," I sighed, helping him tug the slightly too small jeans down below his butt. As soon as I did, he was able to do all the rest of the potty business himself, a hard-won triumph nearly a year in the making.

"Make sure to wash your hands," I reminded him. I didn't have to remind him to use soap. That was part of the drill, part of the order. Max's life was all about order and routine. He only had to do something one time before he knew to do it that way forevermore.

"Great job, now we can go to the park!" I exclaimed. He squealed and bolted for the door. "Hold hands!" I called and he made an about-face and grabbed hold of my hand. I pulled out my phone and sent an "On our way" text to Jason who I'm sure was already there, waiting.

Max chattered away the whole walk there; little snippets of songs from school, a few lines of dialogue from a library book we had read the day before. I pointed out the passing cars, and he told me the make and model of each one of them as he tugged me along the sidewalk.

Across the park, I could see Jason. He had spotted us and was already walking towards us, but I couldn't deviate from the routine. We stopped right at the gate. "Okay, we're here buddy. Tell me the rules."

"No running. Stay with me," Max repeated.

"And?"

"And."

"Tell me the rule about being a good friend."

"We don't laugh when friends get hurt," he intoned seriously.

I nodded. This was a new rule and one my mom and Greg had been drilling pretty hard. Max got confused when other kids got hurt, and sometimes, whether out of a misguided attempt to comfort them or from some tangle of emotions in his own brain, he reacted to their injuries with wild, inappropriate laughter. This brought stares, and sometimes angry smacks from his playmates, who couldn't understand that Max wasn't making fun of them for falling. For his own protection, we had to teach him.

"Okay buddy, go have fun. Be careful."

Max whirled around and careened directly to tallest slide in the park.

"He is fast as hell," Jason observed, standing next to me.

"So fast," I agreed, watching my brother shriek with happiness as he hurtled down the slide. "And getting faster too. Sometimes I miss how easy he was to catch, back before physical therapy."

"Yeah, well look how much happier he is now that he can do things," Jason said, keeping his eyes trained on Max. "I haven't seen him able to balance on one foot like that."

"I know, isn't it awesome?" I smiled. For a second it felt like my heart was filling up. "He's doing really well these days."

"Just like his big sister, hmm?" Jason prodded, nudging me in the side.

I looked up at him and laughed. "Is it that obvious?"

"You've been a bit of a trial lately," Jason huffed. "I need to mean this man in person and shake his hand for taking you off my hands."

I socked him in the stomach.

"Ooh, honey, not cool, I just had tacos."

"Oh, poor baby," I rubbed his stomach. "But you deserved it.

Over his shoulder, I caught a glimpse of something...metallic? Glinting in the bushes.

"What the hell?" I muttered. But Max chose that moment to veer dangerously close to someone's picnic. "Max, too far!" I called. My brother looked over his shoulder but didn't move. "Max!' I called. He stepped one foot closer to the spread-out blanket. "That's a one, buddy," I called, holding up one finger.

My brother recognized the immediate danger of timeouts that came when I counted and trudged slowly back to the playground.

"That was almost too easy," I exhaled, looking back at Jason.

That metallic glint flashed behind him again.

"Hooker, do you see this or am I going crazy?"

"See what?" Jason turned around just as the glint was followed by a bright flash. "What the actual fuck?" he said, squinting.

"Is that...is someone taking pictures of us?"

"I'll go take care of this," Jason growled.

"Jason, hang on." I looked back at Max. "What if it's some kind of predator? We should call the police, someone hanging around a playground taking pictures like this?"

"By the time the police get here, this sick fuck will be long gone," Jason rumbled. He rolled his shoulders once. "I got this shit."

He stormed towards the bushes like an avenging angel. I swiveled my head back and forth, watching him and watching Max and wishing like hell that I could find some way of growing a pair of eyes on the back of my head.

There was a rustling and Jason's loud, shouted, "Hey!" I couldn't take it anymore. "Max! Time to go!"

My brother shrieked and immediately dropped to the ground in boneless protest. I shot a frantic look over my shoulder, trying to see what Jason was doing, but he had chased the pervert over the small hill behind the bushes. "Max! Now please!"

Avoiding the stares of the rest of the parents, I grabbed my screaming, rigid brother and ducked his flailing legs. "Buddy, I'm sorry, we need to go now," I panted, wrestling him over my shoulder. He answered with a loud shriek. If I had any intention of getting out of here unobserved, I was rapidly losing my window of opportunity.

"Zoe!" Jason called. He rushed towards us, panting, eyes a little wild.

"Do you need me to call the police?" I cried, clutching Max closer.

Jason bent over and unleashed a string of curses under his breath, and then straightened up again. "No. Fuck, I mean yes, you could. Maybe. But they won't fucking do anything."

"Fucking do anything!" Max yelled.

"Great," I muttered. Then I looked back up at Jason. "Why? Why won't they do anything?"

"Fucking do anything!"

"Because," Jason said through gritted teeth. "It was a different kind of pervert. That guy was a fucking paparazzo."

"He was? But he was taking pictures of Max!"

"Not Max, honey," he sighed. "You."

Chapter 32

Low

There was something different about the front of my building and it didn't register until I was safely parked in the underground the garage. I wrinkled my brow and rushed to take the elevator up to my floor, then ran to the window to confirm.

The cheap nylon tents and tangled equipment of the paparazzi had disappeared. Only one lone guy plopped on stool still had his telephoto lens trained upward. I ducked back before he could see me and took a deep breath.

Holy shit, was it all over? Was I going to finally have some fucking peace now?

The thought made me so giddy that I needed to tell someone.

Me: Yo! What are you doing?

Pepper: Just sitting by the phone waiting for you to contact me, asshole. Where the hell have you been?

I grinned.

Me: Sorry. I've been a little wrapped up lately.

Pepper: In your girl?

Pepper: You can't lie to me.

Me: You're right and I'm not even going to try to lie.

Me: Yes. I'm wrapped up in her.

Pepper: Let me check my calendar real quick.

Pepper: I just counted twice, and while I'm no mathematician, I feel like this has lasted way longer than a week.

Me: Your feelings are correct.

There was a long pause, the three dots hanging in the air for a lot longer than it must have taken her to write...

Pepper: Lowell...

It was all wrapped up in that one word. The warning, the nervousness, the worry for me. But she was wrong. She didn't need to worry about me, or Zoe.

Me: Pep. I love her.

My phone rang in my hand.

"Say that again," my sister demanded, her voice hoarse and rusty with disuse.

"I love her, Pep."

"Have you told her?"

"Not yet. But I will."

Pepper made a small noise and I waited. People always trampled over her, filling the silence she needed to gather her thoughts. I waited, though I won't lie and say I did it with any sort of grace. I paced the floor of my living room, stopping to check outside the window several more times. The lone paparazzo was still there, but the rest of them were off somewhere, doing something. Probably making someone else's life a living hell. I was grateful to whoever sacrificed themselves to give me peace.

"Lowell," Pepper exhaled.

I snapped back to attention. "Darling sister."

"Do you know what you're doing?"

The question caught me by surprise. "Do I ever really know what I'm doing?" I joked.

"Cut the crap." Her voice was sharp.

"I didn't realize there was crap to cut."

"Are you being deliberately dense?"

"No. This is my regular density. I have no idea what you're trying to get at Pepper. Words. Try using words."

She sighed the sigh of someone who'd been silently putting up with my crap for twenty-five years. "Woe," she began, and this time my nickname made me smile fondly. "I don't want to see you get hurt."

She just kept surprising me. "Why would
I
be the one to end up hurt?"

"Because, idiot. When you're in with someone, you are
in
. You are literally the most loyal, no, the
only
loyal person in my life. And when that loyalty isn't reciprocated, it costs you little pieces of yourself that you try to cover up with joking and playing the idiot. You give and give and give and too often the other person only takes. Fuck it, I'm one of those very people." She swallowed. "I know you're always thinking about me. Worrying about me."

"I am."

"But I can worry about you too, Woe. So I'm going to ask you again. Do you know what you're doing?"

I thought back to Zoe's smile, the way she danced with her whole body. The trust she had in me, and the million little ways she'd shown me that I worthy of it. "I think I do, sis," I told her. "And I think she does too. You don't have to worry about her hurting me, I know you'll cut her if she does."

"I will," Pepper said firmly.

"Okay, psycho." I drummed out a quick rhythm on my knee. "All this time my worry hasn't been so much about the shit that I was actually doing, but the shit I had no control over. Like tour schedules and scheduling conflicts and, I dunno, my whole weird fucking life. I was worried that it was going to be
that
shit that hurt her. Like I'd fuck up and double book and miss her brother's piano recital or some shit. Like some random paparazzo would show up and get in her face and scare her. I would never deliberately
do
anything to mess things up. But I'm also smart enough to know that not everything that happens is deliberate. Sometimes shit just...happens."

We both fell silent. It felt good and terrible at the same time to finally put all this in words. And Pepper, of all people, was the one who'd be able to understand why I was most afraid of the things in my life I couldn't predict.

Pepper's voice was so small it was barely audible. "You gotta do it anyway," she recited, like it was something she had heard a billion different times. "Even if it scares you. We could all die in a fiery explosion if the sun goes supernova tomorrow..."

"Jesus Christ, Pep...."

"Well? Do you stop fucking going outside then? Or do you just do it anyway?"

I smiled. "You have a point. A fucking grotesque one, but it is a point."

I could hear the malevolent grin in her voice. "See? I do pay attention in therapy."

My grin widened. "So you're saying I should tell Zoe that I love her?"

"If you do, then yeah."

"Wow, sis. This actually really helped. You aren't as big a bitch as they say."

"I know. I'm bigger," she retorted smartly. "And now I'm hanging up because all this yammering about feelings has given me a headache."

I laughed. "Love you too, Pepper." I hung up, still grinning. This was it. I was going to tell Zoe exactly how I felt because the sun might go supernova tomorrow but you have to live your life all the same.

I was still grinning when my phone buzzed in my hand. Figuring it was Pepper calling back to bitch me out for the headache I'd saddled her with, I answered on the first ring.

"Mr. Stowe?" It was a woman's voice I didn't recognize, calling me from a very noisy place. Over the din of voices, I could barely hear her repeat my name. "Is this Lowell Stowe of Ruthless?"

"Who the hell are you?" I asked, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. "How did you get this number?"

"Mr. Stowe, I was just calling to see if you'd like to comment on the leak?"

"The...leak?" I dropped the phone on the floor and raced to my computer.