Page 31 of Behind the Lyrics
“What? Really? Damn, wish I could afford a ticket. That’s one concert I wouldn’t miss.” They’d been one of my favorite bands since I was a teenager, and I’d kill to see them live. “Don’t guess you could see about getting a certain K-ROC DJ a complimentary ticket, could you?” I grinned and gave her my best impression of puppy dog eyes.
“Yeah, I’ll see what I can do. I wouldn’t mind going myself.”
“Abso-freaking-lutley. I haven’t had a night out in a long time.” Well, besides that evening Viktor took me to his place. My enthusiasm dimmed.What are you doing right now? Have you already moved on?Maybe I should text him this evening—as a friend. He and I both shared private moments, and if nothing else, surely, we could stay friendly through the bond of pain and truth.
Terri slid her feet from the table and stood. “Guess I’ll go work on recording those commercials.”
“All right. I’ve got another hour, then I’m heading out when Johnny gets here. I already cranked a couple out for you earlier if you want to edit them later.” I yawned, already looking forward to my hot bath, a good book, and cuddle time with Marky.
She opened the door and stopped, turning her knowing gaze on me. “Angela, I know what you went through with Jeff, and you have every right to be careful, but…” Shaking her head, she narrowed her eyes and shook a finger at me. “Viktor Farrow isnotJeff. He may be an arrogant ass, but if you tell someone you’ll give them a chance, it can’t be half-hearted or only wheneveryouwant to work on it. That’s not fair to either one of you.”
Scowling, I crossed my arms over my chest. “That’s not what I’m doing. I’m—”
“That’sexactlywhat you’re doing. Don’t string him along. Either give him a real chance or cut the cord and both of you move on.”
I knew it was good advice, Terrialwayshad a terrific grasp on human emotions, but that was not what I was doing, was it? Stringing him along?
The door clicked shut, and I took a deep breath of the dry, Arizona air.
I’ll call him and talk about it later, after I’ve had time to think about what I want.
That was just the trouble, though. I didn’tknowwhat I wanted—not yet. Maybe if I did, things would be easier.
Chapter 28
Viktor Farrow
At the airport, several fans spotted me, and a bit of a ruckus stirred. Clive, Andy, and Stu kept me in their inner circle of bodies. Alan, Justin, and the rest of my bandmates took time to pose for selfies or autograph whatever piece of paper a person could come up with. In one case, Justin signed a woman’s ample cleavage, a shit-eating grin lighting his face.
I should’ve been happy my new band was getting exposure and people were excited. I would normally spend time with the fans and maybe even leave a calling card for those special women I fancied.
Today? I only wanted to board the plane and get the fuck out of the country. Knowing how close I was to Angela, and not being able to see or touch her, the torture was a hand reaching inside my chest and ripping my goddamn heart to shreds.How is this even possible? We only shared kisses.Her soft cries and moans as I’d dipped my finger between her thighs caused me to smile.Well,mostlykisses.
Itwouldhave been more if fucking Justin hadn’t interrupted me in the studio…
I knew why it hurt so fucking much, though, even if it didn’t make a lot of sense. I’d shared the source of all my woes with my personal little angel then she’d offered up her own agony, and we’dconnected.That night on the couch, as she and I sat on opposite ends of the universe, with an intimate exchange of secrets, a black hole opened and sucked us into each other—bonding her to me in a way no one else had ever been able to do, except for maybe James.
“Good evening, Mr. Farrow.” A stewardess, her tight little uniform emphasizing her curves, waited at the top of the steps leading to the private jet. “I hope you have a lovely flight.”
“Thanks, I’m sure I will.” I brushed past her and took a seat at the small table in the middle of the plane. The record company spared no expense when it came to our comfort. Cherrywood-paneled walls lined the inside, and two couches completed the back, near the bathroom. Each area had its own telly. A mini fridge, stocked with anything from water and juice to alcohol, sat under the table.
I bent and tugged the fridge door open. Several complimentary bottles of Jack Daniels lined a shelf. I stretched my fingers toward the neck of one. For the first time in years, a deep, dark, pulsing need came over me—not just temptation, but a pounding ache.God, it would be good to numb myself for a little while.Angela’s story of what happened to her that night with her husband stayed my hand.
No, I’ve maintained control this long. Can’t give in to the demon now.
Instead, I shifted my grasp to the flavored, exotic water on the upper shelf and slammed the door.
After a long swig, I set the bottle down and dug a finger into my pocket to caress the cold, hard edge of metal. Releasing a pent-up breath, I glanced out the window and watched the rest of the band amble onto the tarmac. They seemed so carefree and happy.
I used to be like that.
For a couple of days, I’d felt the beginnings of contentment when I’d been in Angela’s presence. Even if I’d been destitute and a nobody, it wouldn’t have mattered with her at my side andmine.
The tour was eight weeks long, with four touring Europe, then the other half in the Americas. Maybe two months would be enough distance for her to decide if I was worth the risk.
Wait? Why am I contemplating this shit? What happened to OAS?
Somehow, my grand scheme to get back at the little angel and show my dominance fell by the wayside. I no longer cared about making her pay because, in some ways, she’d been correct when we’d first met. My music might still be popular, but a has-been I was. The man who wrote and sang those songs fifteen years ago was not the man I’d become.
