Page 109 of A Ballad of Betrayal and Beauty

“Yeah. Be downstairs in ten minutes.”

CHAPTER27

Love is the Drug

DUSTY

Iwatch the sun rise over the San Francisco hills, relaxing into the plush seat and feeling relaxed for the first time in weeks. Months? Joel must have given the cab driver his address, because without me having to utter a word, we sped off toward one of the nicer areas of town. Seeing the houses over here, with their pristine lawns and fancy cars, uncertainty encroaches on my sense of peace.

Maybe I never really thought about it before, but . . . Joel must have money. I mean, obviously, he has money. He’s a rockstar whose songs are on the radio, and that hardly pays pennies, but as I gaze out the window, I start to think that maybe I underestimated just how many more pennies he makes than me.

Me. With my studio apartment over a laundromat in one of the roughest areas of town, who talks dirty to men on the phone and gets paid by the minute. I sigh and let my head rest against the glass. For all of our class differences though, Joel has never made me feel lower than him. It’s rare for a man who finally makes his fortune to not treat people like dirt. Especially women. But Joel is just sweet.

I wonder what his bandmates are like. Do they have girlfriends too?Girlfriend. It’s such a foreign word, it feels surreal saying it in my head. And what about his best friend? The one with the song problem? The one who’s missing. The one who is so important to Joel that it seems like his whole world revolves around him. And with him missing, that world is falling apart.

Does he know about me? If he does, then does he know the truth about what I do? Did? And if he doesn’t . . . why not?

The cab driver turns down a sunlit street. The houses are low and long out here. Bungalows with garages and wide lots. It’s so strange to think that a rockstar lives here, but what did I think? That he was living in a gilded mansion with a giant wrought iron fence? We pull into a driveway, and a grin tugs at my lips at the sight of Joel sitting on a chair beside the front door. He grins at me and jogs over to open my door.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he says, and without missing a beat, kisses me full on the lips. When he pulls away I nearly whine at the loss. It wasn’t enough. I need more.

He closes the door behind me and turns to the driver. “Thanks, man,” he says, palming him a few bills. “Have a good one.”

The cab backs out and drives off down the street and I turn toward Joel, but a moment later I’m scooped up, a face buried in my chest. Even though I’m tired, I’m energized by his touch. And he needs me. He’s going through a hard time, and I meant what I said. His hardships are mine too.

When he sets me down in the entryway and shuts the door behind us, I crane my neck to get a better look at his place. “This is your house?”

He shrugs. “It’s a rental. Got a few more months on the lease, then we’ll have to find something else.”

“Oh.”

“I’ll be sad to go, though,” he admits, wrapping his arms around me and drawing his nose along my cheek. “This was the first house we all rented together when we came out west.”

I perk up at this. “You all lived together? That’s adorable.”

He rests his chin on my shoulder. “Not much that’s adorable about four guys and one girl living together.”

“One girl?”

He chuckles. “Yeah, Becks. James’s wife.”

My eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. “One of your bandmates is married? How old is he?”

His face scrunches as he thinks. “Almost twenty-one. She’s twenty.”

“Twenty-one . . . That’s so young!”

He laughs. “Not for them. I guess when you know, you know, right?”

I nod, and my stomach twists unpleasantly. Wasn’t I younger than that when I got engaged? Didn’t I think I’d be married and starting a family at eighteen? But now that I’m twenty-five . . . it seems so impulsivelystupid. What had I been thinking? What hadhebeen thinking? Maybe it was better it didn’t work out, or we’d hate each other now. A phantom pain hits me, and I rub at the skin on my ring finger.

“You okay?” Joel asks.

I nod. “Yes, sorry.”

“Anyway, Becks, she took good care of us. Still does. You know, you and I actually met on their wedding night.”

This does shock me. “That’s whose wedding you were in Vegas for?”

---