Beats of Life (Perception Book 5) (21 page)

The tears continued to stream down my face and the only word I could form was sorry, so I said it to him over and over again. Approximately an hour later, my exhaustion overtook me and I fell asleep in his arms.

A few hours later, I woke up startled. Slater was leaning against the bedhead and I was still cradled in his arms. The beating of his heart and the rhythm of his breathing clearly indicated that he was asleep. My head was thumping hard from the amount of crying I had done and I was emotionally exhausted. I sat quietly, staring at his face for nearly an hour before I worked up the courage to slip out of his embrace. He murmured in his sleep and his face still looked pained.

I lent in and placed a kiss against his plump and warm lips. “Goodbye Slater,” I whispered heartbreakingly. I gathered my bag I had already packed and silently made my way out of the cabin. My heart broke more with every step I took.

“I was first diagnosed with ALL when I was thirteen,” I inform Slater quietly, forcing him to release a deep and harsh breath like someone has just punched him in the stomach.

His face morphs into shock and his eyes slowly flick between mine, but he remains completely still and silent. I take in a large inhale of breath, trying to encourage myself to continue telling him the truth.

“The second time was two months before we went to the cabin,” I continue quickly.

My eyes dart down to look at his chest. My heart is rapidly beating and my eyes are quickly filling with tears. He pulls his hand out of my grasp and runs it roughly over the top of his head. He paces back and forth in the small bathroom, murmuring several curse words under his breath, his fists angrily clenching and unclenching. His eyes slowly turn to face me and they are full to the brim with anger and pain.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he questions in an angry whisper, forcing my unshed tears to slide down my cheeks.

“Because I was afraid I was going to lose you,” I reply quietly, triggering his eyes to instantly narrow.

He angrily shakes his head. “I would have been there for you. I could have been there for you,” he says harshly, the veins in his neck bulging with every word he speaks.

I instantly shake my head. I couldn’t do that to him. I struggled those two months trying to tell him that I was sick again. I loved Slater and I was fairly certain he loved me too, but our relationship was about fun and adventure. It wasn’t about hospital visits and doctor’s appointments. And it certainly wasn’t about death. I was petrified, not just of dying, but of losing him. Every week I would convince myself that I had to either give him up or tell him the truth and every weekend my heart would overrule my head. You can’t deny what you heart wants and my heart wanted him more than anything in the world. 

“At the start, the fear of losing you stopped me from telling you. Then when I found out about Serena I couldn’t make you go through that again,” I inform quietly, hesitantly walking over to him.

“That wasn’t your choice to make Kylie,” he replies. The pain reflected in his eyes causes me to freeze. “That wasn’t your fucking choice,” he says painfully, his angry voice reverberating around the bathroom.

“You would have given it all away. Everything you and the band had worked so hard for the past several years. You would have left it all behind,” I respond between sobs. He looks at me angrily and shakes his head, his eyes rapidly filling with tears.

“Yes you would have and I couldn’t do that to you. I loved you too much to do that to you,” I continue, finalizing the last few steps between us.

I could see Slater’s pain in his eyes when he talked about his sister the night at the cabin. He would have given anything to have her still in his life. So I knew without a doubt in my mind that he would have given everything away to stay with me while I battled through my illness. But I couldn’t do that to him. I loved him too much. So even though it felt like my heart was being stabbed with every step I took away from him that night at the cabin, I knew I was doing the right thing.

I stand directly in front of him. My eyes stare into his, pleading for him to understand why I did what I did. I did it for him. Everything I did the past two years, I did for him. He lifts his hand and runs his callused index finger across my cheek, wiping away the tears that are streaming down my face in one quick motion. The anger in his eyes slowly changes to resentment. Once he has all my tears cleared off my cheeks, he pulls me in close to his chest and wraps his arms around me tightly, like he is afraid that I may suddenly vanish.

“I love you,” he whispers roughly, his voice sounding like he has swallowed a whole heap of gravel. “I have loved you from the day you walked into the Bar N Barrel,” he continues, forcing a broad smile onto my face.

“I love you too,” I whisper into his chest.

Slater

One week later…

I swear my dick notices Kylie walking into the room even before my brain registers it. Since he has announced her arrival, I have to adjust myself, causing her to smile and wink as she follows Emily to the corner of the meet and greet room. This meet and greet has been going for nearly two hours and I can’t wait to get out here. My hands aren’t just sore from drumming for two hours straight, they are fucking sore from signing so many autographs. They need to organise some sort of device that can sign for me automatically, because this shit is getting old real quick. I will forever love our fans, but I am a drummer, not a writer. I will be more than fucking happy to leave the writer’s cramp to them.

Things with Kylie have been going great the past few weeks. Actually it has been better than great, it has been fucking perfect. She is perfect. The only dampener the past few weeks was when she told me she had ALL. Not once, but fucking twice. It killed me knowing that she kept that from me. That night, my heart raced a million miles an hour and my eyes burnt from the sudden rush of moisture that had formed in them. I was shocked when my eyes strained as they struggled to hold in my tears, because I don’t cry. I never cry. Not even when my sister died. But when Kylie told me she had the same disease that snatched Serena out of my family’s life way too fucking early and way too young, I couldn’t stop my tears from forming. Just the thought of losing her scared the fucking shit out of me.

I was being deceitful when I said I wouldn’t have given everything up. I would have given it all away in an instant when I found out she was sick. There was no way I would have been able to go on the road for weeks at a time leaving her at home sick and alone. I could have never done that to her. I fell in love with her from the very first moment I saw her. She was all I ever wanted and she would have always been my number one priority. So as much as it hurt and made me angry that she forced that decision for me, I understand why she did it. She did it to save me, even though I really wished she would have chosen to save us. But I understand how different my life would be right now if she had done that.

She was shocked the first time I declared my love for her. I didn’t say it because I felt forced, I said it because I truly meant it. After she left me, I realized how stupid I was to let my ex decipher how I should love anyone following her. I didn’t even know what love truly was until I met Kylie and I am never going to go another day without telling her what she means to me. I will tell her I love her until she is sick of hearing it, and then I will tell her even more.

Kylie was open and honest with me that night and I’ve been trying to do the same the past week. But she is being sly and has started utilising the trick I always use against her. Anytime I try to bring up the past, she kisses me or teases me and my dick soon overrules my head. “It’s in the past, can’t we just leave it there,” she continues to quote, using my own words against me. Maybe one day my dick will eventually calm down enough around her to explain all the bad shit I have done the past few years. Oh who the fuck am I kidding? My dick will never calm down around her.

I chuckle softly to myself as I finish signing the very last CD cover for a fan.

“Thank you so much, I am huge fan, your number one fan,” gushes a pretty blonde. I hand her back her CD and stand from my seat, eager to stretch my legs since I have been sitting for the past several hours.

“That’s great to hear and thanks for coming to our show,” I reply politely. The blonde’s eyelashes flutter and her hand raises to twirl her hair. Here it comes. The exact same thing that happens at the end of every concert.

“Did you want to get out of here?” she questions. Her tongue slowly darts out to lick her top lip and her lust filled eyes boar into mine. “I have a hotel room just one block over,” she continues seductively, her voice coming out in a purr.

Just as I am about to reply, a stern cough comes from over my shoulder. I don’t even need to turn around to know who is there. A broad smile stretches across my face before I pivot to see Kylie standing firm. Her tiny hands are on her hips and her narrowed jealous eyes are shooting daggers at the blonde. Jealously never looked so fucking good. I don’t bother replying to the blonde, my dick has its target locked and loaded and it is ready to pounce. All it takes is me taking two steps in Kylie’s direction for her eyes to turn to mine. Now instead of being narrowed, their eagerly darting between mine. She knows I love it when she gets all jealous and possessive. I cock my eyebrow, wondering if she is planning on making me chase her like she normally does or if she is going to stay standing firm. The instant I spot the corners of her mouth lifting, I know she is going to run. 

I catch up to her just as she hits the edge of the stage. Her happy squeals echo around the empty stadium and startle a few of the stagehands. She loves being chased and I love nothing more than chasing her. Our kiss soon becomes heated. It does every single time I kiss her, because I can’t get enough of her delicious mouth. She wraps her legs around my waist and I move us closer to the edge of the stage, not wanting any spectators to our make out session.

The instant I hit the edge of the curtain, Kylie pulls away from my embrace. Anyone would swear it was me pulling away from her for the way she whimpers. I don’t have to say anything. I can already see the turmoil in her eyes. Any time I try to get her to go a little further backstage she always backs down. She had shown me the new items Melanie had added to her list last week. I may have sent Melanie a few message of thanks after we crossed off number one hundred and fifty-five as that was the best limo ride I have ever had in my life. But anytime I try to cross off number one hundred and fifty-three, Kylie denies all of my advances.

“Not here,” she whispers softly, her eyes nervously darting around the stage.

“I would never let anyone see you,” I reply staring directly into her eyes. There is no fucking chance in hell of that ever happening. I would never let another man see skin that belongs solely to me.

“I know that,” she replies softly. “I just don’t want to do it
here
.” She emphasizes the here part of her statement with a hint of bitterness, and that jealously that was filling her eyes earlier returns to the forefront.

“Why?” I question. Her eyes dart down to my chest, triggering me to roll my hips. The seam of my jeans is pressed firmly against the crutch of her panties, causing her eyes to instantly dart back to mine.

“Why?” I ask again, but more firmly this time.

She wiggles and tries to lower her legs. I stay holding on firmly, denying her request. She angrily huffs and attempts to cross her arms, but we are standing to close to each other that even her arms can’t fit between us. Her eyes dart back down to my chest. I lift her chin, forcing her to face me, before cocking my eyebrow, silently requesting for her to explain. She rolls her eyes, completely ignoring my request. I push my hardened cock against her crutch, triggering her to release a soft moan and her eyes to dart back quickly to mine. I cock my eyebrow again, clearly indicating that I will continue to tease her until she tells me what I want to know.

“Fine!” she huffs. “I saw the whole stage curtain incident,” she says harshly, her eyes narrowing and her face morphing into anger.

“What stage curtain incident?” I instantly question, seeking her gaze. Her eyes slowly lift to look into mine and they rapidly fill with tears. She takes in several deep breaths, causing her breasts to push against my chest.

“In San Diego,” she whispers softly. I give her a look, clearly indicating that I don’t have a fucking clue what she is talking about.

“I saw you with a groupie in San Diego,” she says quietly. Even though she is quiet, I can easily hear the anger in her voice.

“What groupie?” I question. I have no fucking clue what she is talking about.

She breaths harshly out of her nose and wiggles her hips requesting to be placed down again. I reluctantly place her back down on her feet, before leaning my hands against the wall behind her head, effectively trapping her in front of me.

“What groupie?” I question again.

“I didn’t think to get her name,” she says sarcastically, darting under my arm and moving towards my dressing room. “You probably didn’t either,” she mumbles under her breath.

I grab her wrist gently and pull her back towards me. She huffs again and crosses her arms in front of her chest. My eyes instantly dart down to look at her cleavage. I can’t fucking help it, I am a guy and she has fantastic tits. She tries to hold in her smile, but fails miserably. She loves the effect her body has on mine.

“I haven’t fucked a groupie in weeks,” I inform, staring directly into her eyes.

“You weren’t fucking,” she murmurs under her breath. She is so quiet I have to strain to hear her.

“I haven’t touched a groupie in weeks,” I clarify. She murmurs something under her breath again, except this time it isn’t loud enough for me to hear.

“What?” I query, my eyes seeking her gaze that keeps darting away. If she keeps not maintaining my eye contact, I am going to push her back up against the wall and use my cock against her like I always do. When she notices the expression on my face, her eyes dart back to mine.

“I saw a groupie attached to….
that
,” she says, motioning her hand towards my crutch. My eyes open wide in shock, and my dick stiffens slightly since she motioned her hand towards it.

“When?” I question. No one since the waitress in the San Diego nightclub has sucked my dick, bar Kylie.

“Opening night,” she eventually whispers, instantly triggering me to shake my head in denial. Kylie’s eyes narrow and her nostrils flare in anger.

“I saw you Slater,” she informs angrily.

“It wasn’t fucking me,” I reply. She crosses her arms again except this time she doesn’t smile when my eyes dart down to her cleavage.

“It wasn’t me. I haven’t touched or fucked a groupie since I saw your eyes filling with tears when I walked out of the bathroom in the nightclub in San Diego,” I inform. It killed me seeing her eyes fill with tears. I never felt dirty before, but I did that night.

“I have never lied to you Kylie. There hasn’t been anyone since then,” I continue firmly.

“What about the lipstick on your shirt?” she questions quietly.

“That’s part of my job. The groupies and fans get a little excited. Take the elbow to your nose last week as a prime example,” I reply, staring directly into her eyes.

Her eyes slowly flick between mine, showing her confusion, before the realisation suddenly dawns on her face.

“Sonny,” she says through gritted teeth. She clenches her little fists together tightly before she storms through the curtains. I quickly follow behind her.

With her quick and angry strides, it doesn’t take her long to reach the roadies all sitting around their normal makeshift table, like they are at the end of every concert. Sonny lifts his head the instant Kylie walks into the room.

“Are you okay?” he questions concerned when he notices the look on her face. He stands from his seat and make his way towards her. His concern for Kylie is clearly shown on his face, which pisses me the fuck off.

When he stands in front of her, she rears back her hand and slaps it firmly across his cheek, causing a loud slapping noise to echo around the room. The road crew all cheer in sync, I chuckle loudly and Sonny looks shocked.

“It wasn’t Slater behind the curtain, was it?” she questions angrily, her eyes staring firmly into his. He shrugs his shoulders, indicating that he doesn’t know what she is talking about.

“The groupie in the curtain at San Diego,” she continues sternly. Sonny’s eyes open wide in shock and he swallows harshly several times in a row. Just as he is about to respond, Mark pipes up behind him.

“That was me,” he says loudly, his voice slurring badly in his drunken state.

“Shut up,” Sonny requests, his angry eyes turning to glare at Mark.

“What?” Mark questions, his face appearing confused. “You told me to get Slater’s boots out of his dressing room, then you organise that hot groupie, remember?” he says, his eyes glossing over like he is recalling a fond memory.