Page 94 of This Side of Beautiful

The Hollow Bones stayed behind while Landon traveled with me, his presence lingering just enough to satisfy the curiosity of those obsessed with us. His silence only deepened his mystique, and before he knew it, his star was rising higher than he or the band had ever imagined. His unmatched talent on the guitar, the public’s thirst for glimpses of our relationship, his quiet confidence, and the weight of his family’s legacy combined to make him one of the most sought-after men in the country.

Now, his signature look was set. Shades, his ever-present hat, a guitar slung over his back, and his pick in hand. He never had to say much. Just a wave, a brief greeting, and the deep timbre of his voice were enough to send his admirers into a frenzy.

Sharing these moments with him, knowing his struggles, kept me from focusing on my own shifting energy. I admired how he handled his discomfort and anxiousness without substances as his vise. I didn’t want to admit that my nonstop movement was slowly taking a toll, and I longed for the euphoria of the peaceful existence that only came from alcohol or drugs. Still, I reassured Landon that I was capable of handling the thrust back into the spotlight and all that it meant.

Old photos of my wild days of sex and partying with men who weren’t mine resurfaced. I almost didn’t recognizethatJanae. I pretended to have thick skin whenever I saw or heard something about the old me while I worried incessantly that Landon, the band, or the ladies would remember that I had been that mean, spiteful woman. I’d learned from Dr. K that hurt people hurt, and I’d been through trauma that I’d taken out on anyone in my path. Getting back on meds despite the cotton mouth, dizziness, and dullness was an uneasy compromise to my healing. I wouldn’t let my past dictate my bright future.

Landon and I had spent the last two months together every day, and the thought of not seeing his face, or feeling his strong arms around me, or inhaling his clean soap smell pained me. We would spend five days in Los Angeles, and our tour would officially be over until we reconvened for Austin City Limits in October. Landon and I hadn’t discussed or made plans for our life after the tour, as if we were worried that what we had was only for this time, though we spent almost every waking moment together harmoniously.

We remained in bed on the bus when we weren’t performing, rehearsing, or going on short promotional trips. We only communicated our needs and left unsaid anything troubling or deep about our past or future. I knew his mother had separated from his father and was staying in his brownstone. That was all he said on the subject, and I didn’t ask or expect more. He would tell me about his family on his own time, mainly because I was reluctant to talk about my own mother, who would be at the concert in Los Angeles. Landon had invited her and my brother when I hadn’t been able to bear to myself. Rashad and I had spoken a couple of times with promises to connect after the tour, yet neither of us had broached the topic of our mother.

My dark mood attacked me left and right. I used our isolation and our unspoken willingness to deny any real issues that could impact our relationship to our advantage. No serious talking meant less of a chance of snapping at or cursing out Landon because my negative thoughts and irritability were rampant due to the inconsistent use of my meds, along with all my stressors hitting me at once. I knew the darkness would pass, and I didn’t want to risk my relationship because of my caustic words.

Landon Hayes was my one. I just couldn’t allow the dark side of me to ruin something so beautiful, so wonderfully complex, and so meant for me. His vulnerability only tethered me to him stronger, and I wanted to help him if he needed it. Watching his daily struggles to be open to others and the world hurt and inspired me. Landon needed treatment so he could truly flourish and not have to suffer. Once we finished the tour, I would insist that he seek counseling, as I intended to do again myself.

On the night we arrived in Los Angeles, the bus rode around the city at my instruction. I wanted my people to feel the vibe. Los Angeles might be more known for the film industry, but it was a haven of all music genres. Songwriters and hopeful musicians moved there from all over the country for a chance at stardom.

After seven years, I’d grown to love this city even if it hadn’t always loved me back. When people recognized our buses, they jumped up and down and shouted my name, clearly excited for my return, and my heart flooded with love.

Landon wrapped his arm around my waist and announced, “Welcome home, Janae Warner.”

Los Angeles was indeed my home, and I would show up and show out for the gig on Saturday. I would prove that their belief in my talent the first time around wasn’t a fluke. I was better and stronger and was there to stay. Hopefully, the man beside me, with pride and love in his voice, was here to stay, too.

June 11

After a busy day of pictures and filming our group at famous sites, Landon and I were cuddled up in my bed at my condo. We’d showered together and made love. He was on his side, facing me with closed eyes, humming a tune from their upcoming album.

“What if we leave Los Angeles and go to Austin for a few days? My house is there. I think it would be a good place for us to unwind and talk. Get to know each other outside of this tour.”

He chuckled. “Guess you can afford to keep it now.”

I popped his taut belly. “Even if I didn’t, you could afford to keep my house for me.”

His eyes lazily opened. “So, I’m your sugar daddy now?”

“Yep. Though I’d prefer you to be my husband.” I eased up higher on him to kiss him.

“Mm… shouldn’t I be the one to propose?” He kissed me back.

“I already know if I don’t force the issue, we’ll be one of those couples who are together forever without marrying. I don’t want that for my life.”

“Force the issue a year from now if I haven’t asked you.” He flipped on his back and flung his arm over his eyes.

I traced circles on his chest, trying not to be affected that he hadn’t yet answered me about going to Austin, or by his nonchalance about marriage. “When we were in Houston, you said you weren’t getting married or having a family. Has that changed?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” I raised my voice. “You practically told your mother we were engaged when she asked at dinner, and now you don’t know? Don’t play with my heart, Landon.”

“I’m not playing with you. I thought we were waiting to talk after the tour.” The teasing undertone in his voice had shifted.

“It’s a simple question.”

He glanced at me before he sighed. “Nothing with you is simple. However, answering your question will lead to a drawn-out discussion, which would be better after the tour.”

I pushed against the mattress to sit up. “You say you’re different from other men, but you’re just like them. You want to fuck me and get serious about the next woman.”

“I’m not your ex or the married men you slept with, so stop comparing me to your past.”

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