Well, she was about to flip that script. Her mind had been trying to protect her heart and soul. Maybe the way to protect them was to let them have what they wanted. It was the same philosophy that their dad had had when Becca had been obsessed with touching the light sockets as a toddler. Her mom had run herself ragged trying to keep her away from them, but her dad had just said, “She’ll only do it once.” If her body, heart, and soul wanted to touch the light socket—aka Chase—well, so be it.
She was sixteen when he’d walked out of her life the first time and she’d survived. Thrived even. Now she was a grown woman, not a lovesick teen.
Time to act like one.
* * *
“Listen, it’s only two dates. I couldn’t get ahold of you and the offers were just too good to pass up,” Marcus’s voice came over the phone’s speaker.
Chase stood in the deserted hallway of the hospital and still had to cover his ear to hear his manager’s voice. There was so much wind in the background that it was hard to make out. Marcus liked to make his phone calls on speaker…while he drove with his convertible top down.
That habit had always irritated the shit out of Chase.
“I never authorized you to commit to dates. I’ll do the shows this time, but don’t let it happen again.” Chase hung up the phone and pushed it back into his jean’s pocket. He was really close to being done with his idiot of a manager. All managers tended to overstep their boundaries from time to time, but this was the fifth incident this week.
Chase had been working with Marcus since he’d been with Midnight Rush. During his manager’s six years with the band, he’d done a decent job and always respected the wishes of the four members, both individually and collectively. Now, Chase was beginning to think that it had less to do with ‘respect’ and more to do with the fact that he hadn’t had the balls to step to all four members of the band. Now that it was just Chase, Marcus seemed to be flexing his manager muscle like he was in a bodybuilding competition, and if he continued to do so, Marcus Willoughby would be down one client.
Trying not to let his frustration ruin the time he had while his mom was awake, he stepped back into the bright hospital room. His mom was sitting up in the bed, eating the lunch Jamie had just dropped off for her. She had good color and her face was a little more filled out than it had been the day he arrived. This morning, Dr. Corbin said that if things kept going like they were, then she was on the road to a full recovery.
“Everything okay?” she asked as she scooped some of the red Jell-O out of the small plastic container.
“Yep. Everything’s fine.”
He’d have to leave next month for two shows in Cincinnati, but he’d only be gone for a couple of days. Still, the thought of leaving, even for a short time, held zero appeal to him.
There were several reasons a trip was the last thing he wanted to do. Of course, he didn’t want to leave while his mom was still recovering. Then there was Krista. The bottom line was that he wanted to be wherever she was. And the icing on the not-wanting-to-leave-Harper’s-Crossing cake was that he could be himself here. Sure, he’d only been out in town a few times, but when he had, he’d been treated just like Chase, a kid who had grown up here and had now returned home. He hadn’t been treated like Chase Malone, rock and roll god. He felt like he could just be. He could breathe and enjoy life here.
His mom’s voice invaded his thoughts. “Krista came by earlier. She said that she was going to that new spa with her sisters to get ready for Haley’s engagement party.” There was an expectancy in both his mom’s tone and her facial expression.
He knew what his mom wanted to hear—that he and Krista were getting back together. Hell, he wanted to tell her that very thing. The only problem was that she was in a very fragile state and he didn’t want to give her any false hope. It wasn’t just her physical state and the aftereffects of the stroke that worried Chase. Her emotional state gave him just as much if not more cause for concern.
If it were up to him, he and Krista would work everything out and find their way back to each other. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only person who got a vote in that scenario. He couldn’t even say that the ball was in Krista’s court since she wasn’t even playing the game. No racket. No cute tennis shorts. Nada.
“Have you seen much of her?” his mom asked. It was the same question she’d asked yesterday.
“A little bit. I saw her this morning on the track.”
“You two went on a run together?” His mom’s eyes lit up. “Just like high school.”