“Jesus, Jazz, wait. I couldn’t just hit the pause button on my life.”
“I know. And neither can I.”
“So that’s it? This is really the end.” He let out a harsh laugh. “I got you back only to lose you all over again.”
She stopped at the end of the sidewalk and turned back, sucking him down one last time. Bathed in unrelenting sunshine, he seemed to glisten with life and vitality. The golden boy she would always love, no matter what.
“With us, you never know.”
CHAPTER FORTY
Now
Gray adjusted his guitar on his good shoulder and stepped onto the set where they’d be shooting the “Sugar Kiss” video. After eight weeks in rehab, his first task involved stepping in front of the camera.
Nothing like a trial by fire.
The crew bustled around the room, arranging cameras and set pieces. There was a big four-poster bed in the middle, piled high with a thick duvet and piles of fluffy pillows. He frowned. No one had mentioned a bed to him.
Then again, Lila wasn’t exactly forthcoming with details. Her instructions had been along the lines of “here’s where we’re doing the shoot, get your ass there at ten a.m. and don’t be late.”
He considered it lucky she’d given him until ten a.m., since he’d been released at eight.
Technically he could’ve gotten out last night, the official end of his two month stint. But he’d taken the last night away from the band to plan how he wanted things to go. He’d coasted for too long, just doing whatever it took to get by. Eight weeks of talking more than he’d ever wanted to in his life had helped him to realize that he couldn’t do that anymore. He’d always been someone who had concrete goals and a step-by-step way of reaching them. His ability with the guitar and 4.0 average in college hadn’t been accidents. He’d worked his ass off.
Now he had a new subject to master. Well, a couple of them. He wanted to take his skill to the next level, both with the guitar and with songwriting. He’d discovered a whole new way of making cash on the side, and that meant he couldn’t take the slacker’s way out when it came to coming up with new material. His A-game wouldn’t cut it. He needed an A+.
Then there was the even bigger goal. The one where he settled down with the girl of his dreams and they finally made it work.
It wouldn’t be easy, but he was committed to doing things the right way this time. No more two-week courtships and a proposal outside a grocery store. This go-round, they were going slow. They would date for a long while and really hit all the levels. No quickie moving into the same room, no skipping to the good stuff first. It was all good stuff, and he’d be damned if either them were cheated out of the whole experience. She was it for him, and this would be the one and only time he headed toward the altar. So they could take the scenic route.
Assuming she was on-board, of course. They hadn’t spoken much during the past eight weeks by mutual agreement. She’d been busy in the studio, and he’d been busy cleaning out his system and his mind and going more than a little stir-crazy. Once he’d found his songwriting outlet—and had started making serious use of the fitness facilities at the center—everything had started falling more into line.
Even mental exertion and physical exhaustion hadn’t stopped him from wanting coke. He didn’t think of it as often as he had before, especially during the time right before rehab. But he still thought about it way too much. That would be his life now. He had to be constantly vigilant. There would never be a time he could relax and “recreationally” use any kind of substance. He had an addictive personality, and using any of his drugs of choice was a slippery slope leading to the same pit.
Including the woman he’d had to learn to love differently. Not less. That wasn’t possible. But he’d begun to figure out that she had her own life, her own decisions to make, her own world that he didn’t have to be privy to twenty-four/seven. He couldn’t shield her from everything. And that was okay, because she was a fucking wonder in every way. Her strength astounded him.
Now he had to be just as strong.
“You’re here.”
He turned at the sound of Lila’s voice and smiled. “I am.”
“Gained some weight. And some serious muscles.” She surprised him by poking his belly. “You look good.”
“Thanks. I feel good too.”
“And you kept growing out your hair. Nice.” She fluffed the ends, viewing him with an objective eye. “You’ll look great in the video, especially since it requires a little physical work, shall we say.”