All Access (The Fangirl Series Book 1) (22 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Dream Weaver

I am certain that I no longer know my own name. For the past two days and nights, I have not left Jillian’s side. I sleep in the recliner next to her bed, eat cafeteria food in her room, and brush my teeth in the tiny attached bathroom. I’ve been encouraged to shower, to head to a hotel for a good night’s sleep, to join Brad, Alana, and Brad’s parents for lunch in a restaurant. I refuse it all. I refuse to leave.

“Mom, please come get a burger with us,” Alana pleads. I feel awful. I don’t want her to think I’m choosing Jillian over her, but I am very superstitious and feel like if I leave Jilly’s room for more than fifteen minutes at a time, something will go wrong.

“Maybe tomorrow, sweets.” I tug at one of her curls and it springs back into place. I pull her into a hug and notice her hair needs a good scrubbing and detangling. I should take her back to Brad’s hotel, wash the bejeebies out of it, and condition it with a good hair masque. I
should
. But I can’t. Not yet. Maybe when Jillian makes some progress. I shove the guilt out of my mind and usher the whole brood out the door to go get their bite.

I settle into my recliner and grab my phone. It’s been on absolute fire with texts, calls, voicemails, and emails. After two days of noncommunication (four days, really, since reception was pretty spotty in the mountains), I stare at my device like it’s a python. But I know I have to deal with it.

I scroll through everything, my heart leaping when I see the only name that would make it react that way. It’s just a quick text, saying hi. No really, that’s it. It literally reads, “Just wanted to say hi. So hi.” With a smiley face. Of course.

I’d be flat out lying if I said I haven’t thought about him since I’ve been here. My primary focus, obviously, has been my girls. But through the long days and sleepless nights, with catnaps as my only source of rest, my mind has gone all sorts of places with all sorts of people. I’ve had dreams of telling Lucy that I quit all this madness, that maybe I’m not cut out to be a professional author after all. I’ve had dreams that I told Sara I wanted to date Jack and that she should break up with him so I can have him (what?!). I’ve had dreams that Brad and I reunited and patched up our little family, just like he wants. And, of course, I’ve had dreams about Niles. Dreams of us together and dreams of us apart. I like the together ones better. I really, really miss him.

I notice that his text was from early yesterday morning. How did I miss it? What should I do about it? Do I respond? Do I tell him that I’m here in North Carolina and that my daughter is in the hospital, unconscious and broken?

No, of course not. I may miss him, but I have no business letting my head and heart go anywhere near him right now. My priority is my daughter. I’ll catch up with him later.

It occurs to me that tonight is the show I should’ve been going to. It would have been my chance to see him again. To hear him, to be in the same room with him. Maybe, in some weird way, Brad is right. Not about us coming back together as a family, because no matter how many pleading glances he gives me as we stand at Jillian’s bedside or how many times he tries to lure me away with him and Alana, or how many times his mom tells me how nice it is to see us all together again, I absolutely know it will never happen. We’re different people in different places. Well, maybe not him, but I am. There’s no dancing around that, despite how much he wants to.

But maybe missing Niles’s show
is
that one last confirmation that he and I are just not meant to be. I’d been letting my mind trick itself into believing we’d reconnect there and then we’d be back on track, just like that. That’s not going to happen now. It’s out of my control. I’d placed a lot of faith in fate, thinking that if I did everything to put myself in his path, the rest would work itself out. Well, now I’m not going to be in his path. And now there’s no way anything can be worked out. How could it?

Oddly, this revelation kind of puts me at peace. That’s one less thing I have to worry about. Although I am still hopelessly in love with Niles, there is no denying that I cried more with him, for him, and because of him than at any other time in my life. I felt like a weepy middle schooler most days. I didn’t even cry that much over my failed marriage. He brought out emotions in me that made me think and feel way too much. Maybe it’s better for me to be single and in my own world for a while. If I focus on my career and my daughters right now, that’s probably not a bad thing. I can still love him; I’ll just have to love him from afar.

With that “decision” made (not like it was a decision that needed to be made—he’d already made it for us), I work my way through my other calls and obligations. I fill Sara in on Jillian’s condition, my whereabouts, my status with Niles, and my decision to be alone. Although she should be mad at me for being so incommunicado, she’s exactly as compassionate as she needs to be.

“I’ll come stay there with you,” she says. “Ben’s got the kids this week. I can come until Saturday.”

“Aw, God, I love you so much for that. But I’m okay. You stay there. Just keep your phone handy in case I call.” I laugh a little and cast a glance at my still-sleeping daughter. “She’s just a shell, Sar. You wouldn’t even believe it if you saw it.”

“Honey,” she says. “Does Niles know?”

“No. We haven’t talked at all.”

“But he sent you a text?”

“Yeah.”

“Why don’t you answer him? I bet he’d want to know.”

“Why? We’re not together anymore. And plus, he’s got enough to worry about.”

“Kallie, he still cares about you. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have texted. I’m sure he’d want to know.”

I have to believe that what she said is true. He must still care about me, right? That type of intensity doesn’t go away in less than a week. If I still love him as much as I did the moment he walked away from me, wouldn’t he still love me, too? Probably. But maybe not.

“I can’t be concerned about that right now, Sar. I’m not going to mess up his tour mentality. And he’s trying to write an album. And besides, what’s he gonna do about it? Nothing. I’m here with my injured daughter, and what? Maybe he’ll call and offer an ear and I’ll have no idea what to say to him since he doesn’t have kids and has no idea what it’s like to go through something like this. It’s pointless and it would just complicate matters. Things are just as they should be right now. Best to just leave it all alone.”

“You do know the CelebFeed pics are still up, right?”

“For real? Are people still talking, or is everyone over it?” I’ve gotten the emails and social media pings. I already know the answer.

“Is everyone over the photos of you and a rock star all over the Internet? Uh, no. Not even. They’ve been picked up by other sites, too. Lots of them. Niles’s publicist, what’s her name?”

“Kelsey Graves.”

“Well, Kelsey sure as hell didn’t get them down. They’re everywhere.”

This might explain why a bunch of the younger nurses have been giving me the hairy eyeball every day. They must recognize me—although, I look
nothing
like the Kallie in those photos right now. I sigh and pull at my hair. It’s so knotted and disgusting, I’m almost starting to think about doing something about it.

“Don’t worry about pictures or gossip or any of that other bullshit right now,” Sara says. “Just take care of your baby. The rest of it will all shake out in time. Hugs to you, my love.”

I send her hugs back and plant my rear right back into the recliner that’s become my best friend. I drift off to sleep and my mind revisits my last day with Niles. Except in this version, we call Mindy and secure the apartment. Then, we go and make love in it.

Because we can.

***

The shower feels amazing. I’m surprised I don’t clog up the drain with all the grease I’ve washed from my strands, though. I didn’t realize just how disgusting I was until I saw myself in the bathroom mirror. So gross.

Naturally, I don’t have much to work with. No body wash, no color-safe conditioner, no extra rich body whip. When I left the cabin, I grabbed whatever my hand caught as it flailed around aimlessly. Apparently, I didn’t grab the good stuff.

I burst out of the bathroom and am shocked to see Brad sitting on the bed, flicking through channels. He is supposed to be at the hospital with Jillian. That was the deal. I wasn’t going to leave unless I knew he’d be there.

“Brad, what the fuck?”

“What? We’re good. My mom’s there. No worries.” He doesn’t look even the slightest bit bothered that he totally reneged on his promise.

“You were supposed to stay with her! That was the deal!”

“I wanted to talk to you. I promise I’ll make it quick.”

“Talk to me later, Brad. This is really not a good time.” I motion toward my towel-clad body.

“I’ve seen you naked before, Kallie. Like, many times.”

I shoot him my laser eyes because now I’m hot. Like, hotter than hot. “I came here for a little peace, Brad,” I spit. “I really needed some time alone. I thought I could trust you to do what you told me you’d do, but instead, you come here and stalk me because you want to talk?”

My face has got to be redder than a stoplight. I can just about feel the spit flying out of my mouth as I speak. Brad just sits there. And stares.

“I want some freaking privacy, please!”

He jerks his eyes away and shuts off the TV. “I’ll get us some coffee and be back in fifteen minutes.”

“No way. Do not come back here. You need to get back to the hospital. Please.”

He stares at me a moment, then shifts his weight and stands up straighter than I’ve seen him in years. “Are you in love with him?” he asks, looking me dead in the eyes.

The words hit me like a dumbbell to my chest. I cannot go there with him right now. Maybe not ever. I mean, how many times have I seen or read about confrontations like this in movies or books? And of those times, how many of those conversations actually ended well? There is absolutely no way for either party to come away feeling good. There just isn’t.

“I am not discussing this with you, Brad. It doesn’t matter what I do or don’t feel for anyone else. That’s not the point. It never was.”

“Does he love you?”

I close my eyes, trying to do everything I can not to fling my fist into his face. “What don’t you understand here? What I’m doing now is none of your concern. If there were a chance for us, I would tell you. But there’s not. So, please. Please let it go, okay? Jillian needs us to be strong, and if we’re fighting on the sidelines about something that doesn’t need to be fought about, we’re not doing our best for her. Right?”

“You’re making a big mistake, Kallie. I know I’m not perfect, but I’m a good guy. I love you so much and I always have. I’d do anything for you.”

I breathe in and let this register for a minute. He’d do anything for me, huh? Really?

“If that’s true, then why didn’t you? Why didn’t you take the time to talk to me? To ask me what was going on in my life and in my head? Why didn’t you ever romance me or have fun with me and the girls or let me in on your life a little? We existed together, Brad, but for years there’s been no love. No excitement. Nothing of interest, nothing to look forward to, no reason to stay. This isn’t something new.”

I look at him, half angry, half sad. This is not the first time we’ve had this nearly exact conversation. Why does he refuse to admit there is no one to blame but ourselves?

“I need to get back to the hospital,” I say. “So, please, can I have some privacy?”

“Just make love to me, Kallie,” he says, stepping toward me. “Let me show you how committed I am to making things right. Please?” He reaches out to touch me or pull my towel away or something, I’m not sure. I back up from him until I can’t go any farther, but he’s still moving toward me. I fear for a second that he’s going to try to overtake me, but he doesn’t. With a crushed face and the posture of a bullied kid, he finally steps back.

“Get out of here,” I growl, shooting my finger toward the door. I’m shaking so hard I feel like a pine needle in a windstorm.

“This is so unbelievable,” he says, backing his way out of the room. “We had it all. And you’re pissing it away.”

He shakes his head, and as he inches out the door, he gives me one last look of disappointment. One I’ll probably never forget.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Do My Eyes Deceive?

Thank God he’s gone. Even when the specialists come in to tell me that the swelling around Jillian’s brain is improving and they’ll start letting her come to on her own, I’m glad he’s not here to hear the news with me.

He left town straight from the hotel after our “talk” and drove back to his parents’ house. Said he needed to grab some more clothes and that he wanted to visit Alana (who went back with Brad’s dad upon my insistence that she needed a good shower with her special curly-girl shampoo). I know that was his way of slinking away, knowing he made an ass of himself, and checking out long enough to pull himself together. That’s fine. God knows we need the space.

I sink back into my beloved recliner, a thousand weights lifted off my shoulders. My daughter is improving. My ex is gone for now. It’s a new day and the sun is peeking through the gloom that has dominated the past several days. I’m feeling optimistic for the first time in a week. And it feels really good.

I glance at my laptop sitting on the floor, neglected and lonely. I’ve used her to check emails only when my phone was breathing its last battery-supported breaths. She looks sad, and I pick her up (I’ve always called my computer “her” and “she.” Doesn’t everybody?) and cradle her in my lap. “I’ll use you soon,” I tell her, rubbing my finger along the perimeter of the apple on her lid. “I’m finally getting the itch to write again. I think.”

I lean my head back and think about the next chapter I’ll scribe. Being away from Book Two for a few days has been good. The state of panic I was in back at the cabin seems to have lifted, at least a little. I haven’t written a single word since I’ve been here, but I’m at least thinking about the whos, the hows, and the whats. From my little recliner paradise, I settle in and create different scenes in my head, different dialogue chunks, different stakes. I think about this so long and hard I fall asleep sitting up, my head slumped forward onto my chest.

Lord knows I’ve had plenty of wild dreams while in this chair, but some seem more vivid than others. Like the one I’m in the middle of now. This thing is multi-sensory and seriously messing with my head. Because I actually smell a familiar smell and hear a familiar voice—namely my
favorite smell
and my
favorite voice
. I feel calm and on fire all at the same time, just like I do whenever I’m with him. Though I want to keep dreaming so I can experience it longer, and maybe figure out a way to incorporate it into my writing, my eyes pop open against their will.

I gasp.

“Hi,” says the voice. “I’ve missed you.”

***

I can’t even believe what—who—I am seeing. I stand up so fast, I give myself a head rush and fling my arms around his neck.

“Niles!”

“What’s going on?” he asks quietly, nodding toward Jillian. “Why didn’t you call me?” I can tell he’s trying not to, but he looks genuinely hurt that I didn’t call.

There is so much to discuss, I really don’t even know what to say to him first. Truly, all I want to do is hug him. Now, with him standing here in front of me, I feel like the last week has not even happened. All the sadness and tears and feeling sorry for myself and accusing myself of being a self-sabotaging ninny . . . it’s all gone. I feel alive again. How does he
do
that?

“Is she okay?” he asks, redirecting my attention.

“She will be.” A thankful smile washes over my face. “How did you know I was here?”

“Kelsey told me.” He looks over his shoulder at Jillian again, then back at me. “She looks exactly like you. Talk about a mini-me.”

“We’ve heard that once or twice.”

He smiles and runs his hand down my hair. “You look so tired. I wish I could’ve been here for you.”

“You’re here now.”

We face each other, holding hands, our eyes glued to one another as I fill him in on the entire story, from my plane ride fan encounter to my quickie cabin sleepover to my endless days in the hospital room recliner. When he finally gets the chance to talk, he tells me that Sara is the one responsible for Kelsey finding out I was here, and subsequently getting ahold of him. I make a mental note to thank them both so hard. Like,
so
hard.

During our entire conversation, one nurse after the other comes in to monkey with this machine or that, then scurries right back out, her eyes big and her smile bigger. It’s so obvious they’re coming in just to scope out my visitor, and there’s no hiding who he is since he’s already dressed in tonight’s show clothes. It’s kind of weird getting all this attention in the middle of a very serious situation, but I’m just happy he’s here. Celebrity or not, I adore this man and having him here with me makes me feel content and at peace.

After we’ve debriefed each other on the necessities, Niles sits down on the recliner and pulls me into his lap. He looks worried that Jillian will suddenly come to and bust her mom canoodling with another guy. I love that he’s concerned. It’s as considerate as it is cute.

“We’re good,” I assure him. “She’s not going to wake up anytime soon. Plus, we’ll see her stir first, I’m sure.”

This seems to appease him. He visibly relaxes, running his hand up and down my back, just like he used to. I forgot how amazing his touch feels (well, no, I really didn’t, but my skin still melts under his hand just like it’s the first time, anyway). We sit in silence for a moment, while my head continues to reel from the fact that he’s here. I thought we were over. I thought missing his show was the ultimate sign that we weren’t meant to be. But now here he is, underneath my legs, and it feels perfect. Right. Exactly as it should.

“I can’t even tell you how much I’ve missed you,” he says quietly, shifting so he can look up at me. “Did you miss me, too?” He makes duck lips and I can’t help but giggle.

“So much.”

“I’m so sorry,” he says, “for absolutely everything.”

“Me, too.”

I drop my face, aiming my lips toward his, just as I had been dreaming they’d do once again. Once they connect, every single neuron in my body zooms back to life. He feels as amazing as always. His warmth, the light scratching of his stubble against my chin, the strength in his kiss. It’s like we haven’t missed a beat—like we’re kissing on a rooftop, or on a blanket by the Charles River, or in the back of a grimy NYC cab. My hand travels toward his hair and my tongue prepares to explore his once again. But before we can get there, before we can hand ourselves back over to each other, we hear a voice from behind. And not just any voice. A seriously pissed-off voice.

“Classy, Kallie,” Brad roars. “I heard all the little nurses at the station whispering about a celebrity being here but I refused to believe it’d be your little rock star boyfriend because I thought you were bigger than that. Looks like I was wrong.”

I leap off Niles’s lap, half guilty and half pissed off. What is he doing back here so soon? Before I can say a word, he saunters in and looks right past me to size up Niles, who is now standing at my side.

“Got an email from someone claiming to be your girlfriend,” he says, holding out his phone toward Niles. “Told me you’d be coming here. Did you know he has a girlfriend, Kallie?”

Robbyn!

“Again, I didn’t want to believe that your sorry ass would have the nerve to show up here, but it looks like your girlfriend was right.” He puts his phone away and folds his arms across his chest. “Get out of my daughter’s room, asshole. Now.”

“Brad!” I shoot him a scathing look.

“What? It’s bad enough this little pretty boy prick stole my wife and is standing in the way of us getting back together. I’ll be damned if I let him get his hooks into my daughter, too.”

His voice is so loud, I’m afraid the entire floor will hear him. “You need to stop,” I loud-whisper. “Jillian will hear you.”

He completely ignores me and fires again at Niles. “I
said
, get out of my daughter’s room.”

I glance at Niles who is stone-faced and tense. It’s clear he’s doing everything he can not to blow a fuse, and I admire the hell out of his self-restraint. If I were him, I’d have punched Brad right in the throat by now.

I reach for his hand and he grasps mine back, hard. “She is my daughter, too, Brad. Niles does not need to leave. If you don’t like him here, then there’s the door.” I nod toward the hallway but don’t take my eyes off Brad. I am not backing down.

“You,” he says, ignoring me again and taking a step closer to Niles, “should seriously be ashamed of yourself, dude. You broke up a happy family.”

Niles shifts, but still doesn’t say a word.

“We had it all and you killed it, just like that. You came along with your punk ass and your ‘uber-unique voice’ and my wife falls all over herself for you and writes a goddamn book about you. Then she kicks her family to the curb and starts following you all over the goddamn country. It’s disgusting.” His eyes look directly at Niles, who is glaring right back.

“And now you probably fuck her on a daily basis then roll over and pass out. Is that right, Kallie?” he taunts, ripping his gaze away from Niles and fixing it on me. “Is he a good lover, Kallie? Does your rock star boyfriend sing when he hits you in all the right places?”

That does it. Niles’s hand tries to leave mine; I barely hold him back.

“Shut up, Brad!” I hiss. “You are completely out of line!”

He faces Niles again, nostrils flaring. “I’ll say it one more time, man. Get out of my daughter’s room. Now.”

“I will,” Niles says, his voice measured and calm. “But for the record, I did not break up your marriage. You did that all by yourself.” He leans in to kiss me on my cheek. “I’ll be outside. Take your time.” He drops my hand and walks out of the room. My heart trails after him, but my rage stays right here.

“What. The hell. Was that?” I snarl. “How
could
you?”

“How could
I
? I’m not the one bringing my newest bang-buddy into my unconscious daughter’s room, Kallie. Right under the nose of her father—your husband—no less.”

“
Ex
-husband!”

“Right. Well, thanks for that reminder.” He narrows his eyes again. “You know, he’s just as pansy-ass as I thought he would be. Didn’t even stick up for himself. He knows what a tool he is for breaking up a family, I guess. What do you see in that schmuck, anyway?”

“What I see,” I say as calmly as I can, “is a man who is so respectful and confident in himself that he didn’t need to fight with the Neanderthal that was trying to break him.”

I tip my head back, and knowing I’m about to say something that will crumple Brad into bits, I breathe, “I loved him before. But I love him even more now.”

I turn on my heel and allow my shoulder to bump Brad as I walk out. “Oh, and by the way,” I say, spinning back around and nodding toward Jillian, “our beautiful baby girl is going to be okay.”