Chapter Thirteen
Claire
I WRENCH MY ARM OUT of Chris’s grip and push him back. He’s standing way too close. His dark eyes are burrowing into me and making me nervous. I almost forgot how much of an asshole Chris can be when he thinks I’m hiding something from him.
I am pissed at him over what happened with Adam, but I know Adam is the one who opened the car door to get at Chris. Chris didn’t even hit him.
“You’re the one who bribed me into coming here. Why don’t you just give me the information so I can leave.”
He smiles, that you-don’t-have-it-in-you smile, and I’m seriously considering punching him to wipe the grin off his face. But somehow I can’t stop staring at his lip ring. I wish I could forget the memory of the metallic taste of it in my mouth.
“Come on, Claire. I’m your best friend; at least, I was your best friend. You can be honest with me. Are you having problems with your boyfriend?”
“You can lose the smug grin, Chris. I came here because you bribed me with your information and because you looked like I’d smashed your guitar in half when I told you I couldn’t come.”
He lowers his head a little as if he’s ashamed then lets out a soft chuckle. “Sorry. I guess I’m just a little on edge about seeing you after what happened with Abigail’s parents. I thought you’d blame me. Then that shit happened with your boyfriend and I thought for sure I’d lost you forever.”
Suddenly, the muscles in my chest tighten and I feel as if I’m about to have panic attack. I have been trying not to blame anyone for the mess I’m in with Abigail’s parents, especially not Chris since I do believe he’s only doing what he thinks I want. But I can’t help but feel like Chris’s fame is the main thing that tore us all apart. If he hadn’t been in Los Angeles recording the final tracks on the Relentless album when I found out I was pregnant, I might actually have told him about the pregnancy. If I hadn’t been completely certain that having a baby would have ruined his career, none of this would be happening.
I don’t want to blame Chris. After all, I was the one who encouraged him to leave. But hearing him say that he thought I would blame him for what happened with the meeting makes me feel as if he’s giving me permission to hold him accountable. I take a few long, deep breaths to keep the anger from exploding out of me.
I need some serious therapy.
“I don’t blame you for what happened with Abigail’s parents, but it is really frustrating.”
“That they backed out on us or the reason they backed out?”
“Both.”
Before he can respond, Xander jogs toward us with a panicked look on his chubby face.
Xander has been managing Chris’s career since he was a senior in high school playing local clubs. He was a customer in Jackie’s bakery and, true to her chatty nature, they sparked up a deep conversation. She found out he managed a few local bands and she buttered him up with lots of delicious cakes and pastries to get him to listen to Chris’s band, Blue Knights. Xander didn’t need any convincing to sign on with Chris, but he was always pushing Chris to go solo.
Xander’s thick brown hair is plastered with sweat along the hairline and the panic in his eyes makes him look like a sitcom character. When he sees me, he doesn’t immediately recognize me. Then it clicks.
“Claire? Is that you, sweetie pie?”
Xander has the most melodic Southern accent I’ve ever heard on a man. It always makes me smile.
“Hi, Xander,” I say as I reach out to give him a hug.
He hugs me so hard I can feel the sweat seeping through his shirt and mine. I pat his back a few times and he lets go.
“Girl, look at you. You look and smell like cotton candy on a stick.”
“Not looking so bad yourself. Have you lost weight?”
“I have!” He twirls around for me and shakes his butt. “Ten pounds. It’s this new trainer Chris referred me to. I mean, if he can get this boy some muscles, he’s gotta be able to work his magic on me.”
I try not to laugh too hard at this. Chris was always a bit self-conscious about his inability to bulk up. He’s still pretty lean, but even through his T-shirt I can see his shoulders are a bit broader and his chest is bulkier. I have a strange urge to squeeze his arm the way I used to when he was lifting weights in the garage.
Chris squints at me as if he knows what I’m thinking. “You think that’s funny? My trainer kicks my ass and he has me drinking these awful shakes that make me want to chuck the blender across the kitchen. But I do it all for the fans.”
Xander’s panic returns suddenly. “Speaking of fans, one of your fans just got arrested for stripping in front of the club. They’re opening the doors early to try to subdue the frenzy. You’re on in twenty.”