Claiming Addison (12 page)

When I wake up, I don’t bother to look at the clock. I can tell it is sometime after eight because we’re moving. Good, no one had to wake me up to kick off half naked bimbos. God, what an idiot I was yesterday. With all the shit with Kyle and Talon, I can’t believe I let myself get upset over the fact that they were hitting on, making out with and likely fucking two chicks and they paid no attention to me once we hit the party.

I’m even more bothered by the fact that I let myself get depressed over the fact that I was sleeping alone.
You’ve done it for nearly eight years, Addison. Why is it a big deal now?
That’s the million dollar question. Sure, I’ve been hit on in bars, a lot, but it’s not something that has ever bothered me before. I guess maybe it was always their cheesy-ass one liners that were a turn off. None of these guys had anything more to say besides drooling and cheesy one liners, but still.

God, that kiss before the show… I shiver again thinking about it. How they both held me so gently, and the ferocity of Talon’s kiss. I shiver again. No, I’m not cold. I just don’t know how to describe the excitement running through me when I think about it.

Couple Talon’s kiss with Kyle’s own tender kisses on my neck, gah!

Now this morning, in a way, I feel used. It’s stupid and petty, but it’s true. I was there, I was great and I was the good luck charm, at least until the chicks started stroking their egos and eventually their dicks. It was stupid of me to think that it would be remotely possible to actually have something with either Talon or Kyle, or… both of them? Nah, there’s no way. Besides, if I had both of them, they’d have to be equally into each other too, right? I mean, I can’t have all the glory, right?

My thoughts of Talon and then of Kyle bring the memory of Dan sliding back into my thoughts and I feel like crying.

I met Dan in college at NYU. He was a year ahead of me but he was pre-law so he was going to be in school a lot longer than I was. I didn’t mind. We hit it off great, we got along amazingly well and we just worked great together. Dan took my virginity about six months into our relationship. I was so sure that once he got that, it was going to be over between us. I guess that was the cynic in me even then and it was also the reality of how he made me feel. He pushed for it, all throughout those six sexless months, which didn’t help make me feel any better about where our relationship was going.

But in the end he didn’t run away. After we broke that barrier, not in the literal sense, everything changed for the better between the two of us. We grew closer and that’s when I fell in love with him. Well, in the months that followed our slightly drunken, extremely awkward first time. When I say awkward, I mean it was awkward. I knew he wasn’t a virgin, but he wasn’t exactly promiscuous before meeting me.

After two years of being together, and him graduating, he proposed to me and we had great plans to get married and finish up school. We talked about everything. He was my everything, and he never once held me back from anything. In fact, he encouraged me to pursue the things I wanted most and I did. I’d met his mom, Lilly, several times when she would come to New York to visit Dan and we got along great.

She was helping me plan the wedding and her and my mom, Lori, got along great. But Dan insisted on paying for the wedding, so ultimately I got everything I wanted and then some. The Black’s were not overly wealthy, but there was a good reason Dan had money.

Dan and I never talked about Kyle. I knew of him, of course, but we never talked about him. Even Lilly never mentioned him much and when she did, Dan would always get pissed off.

Dan and Kyle’s father was murdered during Dan’s first year of college. Dan never talked about it, but when he talked about his father, it was never with kindness and I learned that he’d been abusive and an alcoholic among other things. After Dan Senior was killed, Kyle slipped into drugs and alcohol and slipped away from everyone. Dan never understood how a jackass like his father could impact someone like Kyle. But it did and Kyle ran away with the drugs and alcohol, leaving his family behind to suffer. Dan hated him for it. When Dan Sr. was killed, he left behind several large life insurance policies, which is where Dan got his money.

Kyle too, I’m sure. I won’t speculate about his drug and alcohol abuse because, well, I don’t know what parts of what I was told are true or not. Lilly wasn’t exactly mother of the year after her husband was killed. I wonder idly if she’s really the reason Kyle ran to drugs and alcohol.

We were two weeks out from the wedding. Anxieties and tensions were running high. I’d started working for Bold, but barely, still learning the ropes, kind of barely, and I had so much left to do before the wedding and I was completely stressed out. Dan and I argued over something stupid, something so stupid that I can’t even remember now what it was. We’d talked on the phone before he’d left work, and neither of us said we loved each other, said bye or even a see you soon because we were that angry with one another. Then he never came home. On his way home Dan had been hit and killed by a drunk driver at five in the evening. It was the hardest, most devastating thing I’ve ever dealt with in my life.

When his family came to California after he was killed, no one paid any attention to me whatsoever. No one cared how I was doing and I threw myself into playing hostess-cooking, picking up after everyone and trying to hold it all together. Dan and I had been together over three years and were about to be married, but it didn’t matter.

Because of that, among other things, I wonder if I’ve ever really dealt with it because even now, seven years later, I haven’t gotten over it, or at least it still haunts me. Losing Dan is the reason I’ve stayed single for seven years, the reason I’ve kept my legs closed and the reason I’ve devoted myself to my job. I love my job and I loved Dan.

I keep trying to tell myself that my fear is stupid, that my fear is completely irrational, but when you’ve lost two men in your life that you’ve loved dearly, it’s hard to put your heart out there for another one. First my dad to illness, followed by Dan’s death. I was never able to apologize for the fight, say good-bye or tell him I loved him one more time. I’ve lived with that guilt for far too long.

Until now, being here on this bus. It was easy to live with it, deal with and some days even forget about it entirely. But coming on this bus, figuring out that Kyle is Dan’s brother, on top of the fact that for the first time in a long time, someone is actually capturing my attention has the guilt meter rising much higher and I don’t know how to handle it. But I’ve got to find a way to deal with it and dealing with it means no longer feeding the animals. Throwing myself into work and doing what I do best, what I know to be my best outlet. If I throw myself into work, then I can’t get hurt because I won’t have time to fall in love.

There’s a knock on the wood surrounding the curtain. “Addison, are you awake?”

“No,” I groan.

“Liar.” The light pours into the room when Kyle comes in. “We’re about thirty minutes from Vegas.”

“Holy shit. What time is it?”

“Twelve-thirty.”

“Fuck. I can’t believe…” I rub my face, “God, I’ve never slept that long in my life.” He laughs and I sit up.

Kyle takes a deep, sharp breath and I can’t understand…Oh shit. I quickly pull up my tank top and cover my almost fully exposed tits. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

He takes a couple steps toward me with lust filled eyes. “Don’t be. You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” I blush like a virgin and try to cover myself. “Please don’t do that. You’re beautiful, Addison.” I shiver at the tone of his voice. Like Talon it has dropped to a soft sultry tone that makes my nipples harden beneath my tank top.

His hand wraps around my arm, he tugs on it to free it from the trap of my chest, trying to pull it away. I pull it back. “I can’t,” I breathe.

He freezes, removes his hand and takes a step back. “I’m sorry,” he says, his voice is soft and apologetic.

“It’s not your fault, I wasn’t…”

“It’s alright. I should go. Let you get ready.”

“Kyle, I…”

“Shh, it’s alright, Addison.”

For some unexplained reason, I want to cry. I have no idea why I said I can’t, no clue why I can’t let this happen, why I can’t let him touch me, or…

He slides out between the curtains and disappears. I let the tears consume me. I know why I couldn’t. I woke up thinking about Dan this morning and the guilt is back. Radiating from every pore in my body and I hate it. I hate that I have to feel this way. I hate that after all this time, Dan still has this effect on me.

He and I had a great relationship, but it wasn’t effortless, it wasn’t like breathing and it certainly wasn’t love at first sight with him. I remember thinking early on in our relationship that we were good for each other because we let each other live our dreams. But at what cost?

There was a point, after he died, that I felt relief. That relief quickly turned to guilt because I shouldn’t feel relieved that my fiancé had died, right? Well, that was what I told myself at the time. I felt guilty for the realization that I wasn’t a widow, that I didn’t lose a husband, just someone that I was comfortable with. Someone who was familiar. Maybe that’s all it was. Maybe all the love I think I felt for him was superficial and I’m just being a childish idiot waiting for something to wake me up to reality and just maybe Talon and Kyle are that wake up call.

It is with that thought that I wipe the tears from my eyes and climb down out of bed. I throw up the hood of my hoodie, hiding myself in my little shell of protection and I get the strangest sense that I am taking the walk of shame, without having done the act itself.

When I get to the bathroom, the door is closed. Damn it. I really have to pee and I don’t want to stand here so exposed to the guys in the bunk behind me. I walk into the kitchen, following my nose to the coffee and find Kyle sitting on the couch watching TV. “Is everyone else still asleep?”

He nods. “Or at least hiding in their bunks.”

“Did we have any girl problems last night?”

He just shakes his head. There is a sense of shame coloring his features. “Did you have a good night?” I ask him and he nods, but he’s not really looking at me. “Get lucky?” I tease, but instantly regret the question when I see him flinch. I take that as my answer and pour myself a cup of coffee.

“So, panda, you’re the reason we have coffee on board this bus?” Panda? Huh? Oh my god, my hood. I turn to see Talon standing between me and the bathroom, the light of the bathroom illuminating the rather dark hallway.

“I didn’t ask for it and I certainly didn’t make it.” I try to look at him, only to realize that he is standing there in low riding pajama pants and nothing else. God, even his feet are sexy.

“How’d you sleep?” he asks with genuine curiosity.

“Okay, you?”

He just shrugs and steps around me to the fridge where he pulls out a bottle of Gatorade, opens it and chugs down over half before capping it and putting it back in the fridge before sitting on the couch next to Kyle and watching TV. I turn around and stomp off to the bathroom. What did I do, turn into a fucking pumpkin over night?

I shrug it off, do my business, run a brush through my mess of a head of hair and pull it back into a pony tail. I don’t get too dramatic with the make-up, but soon I will be walking into a hotel, I’d like to look decent when I do. When I’m done, I ignore the boys and go straight to my room and start packing up some clothes, my make-up and shoes for the next couple of days.

Then I climb back up onto my bunk after I’m done making it and check my email, check my web searches and I come across some great articles from San Diego about the concert last night. They all make me smile.

“69 Bottles puts on one hell of a show.”

“Best concert I’ve seen in years.”

“Watch out world because 69 Bottles is the real deal.”

The headlines are all positive and I save several to tell the guys about. In fact, no time like the present. I jump down off of my bunk and grab my laptop, heading toward the front of the bus. Now sitting in the kitchen are Kyle, Talon, Dex (who I can’t even look at this morning), and Mouse.

“Where’s Peacock?” I ask just as the toilet flushes and the door opens. “Good, take a seat. I have some things to show you guys.”

That earns me a raised brow from Peacock who maneuvers past me to take a seat on the couch.

I read the same three headlines and the accompanying story following the real deal comment. By the time I’m done, the boys are glowing with excitement. The last line of the article makes me chuckle. “69 Bottles is so good they brought out Hollywood’s Elite couple.” Including a picture of Cami and Tristan standing in the crowd.

“Well done, guys,” I say and I let them have their moment of glory. They deserve it.

I continue scanning through my emails and come across one from Kyle. Odd. I open it. It’s a forwarded message.

It says, “This was forwarded by the label. After last night’s show, the owner of a chain of venues that we’re already scheduled to stop at is asking for additional shows. Three of the venues already have waiting lists long enough to fill a second night and two of them are asking for two additional nights with accompanying waiting lists. Scheduling will make things tighter, but it is doable. I won’t discuss it with the band until you give the okay. All expansion will now include vendor paid hotel rooms for the nights we’re there. We also have access to the label’s plane if we need to accommodate a faster travel time.”