Chapter 22: Rock Stars Make the Mile High Club In Private Jets

Trace

No one is pleased with me when I drag Kat and Riley onto the private jet. They've been waiting awhile, and this is the third day I've missed a Soundcrush cue over Kat. I promise myself to tighten up. Things will get better now. Kat and I are on board, headed in the same direction.

No, no one is pleased at all, but Soundcrush is a family, so they welcome Kat easily. All except Marcy, who is trying to squeeze one more call in before take-off. She's coming with us to NOLA, but she'll be headed back to LA after that. Most of our business she does remotely.

After greeting Kat warmly, Dawes shoots me a look. "Eight large, Trace. That's what sitting on this Tarmac for an hour costs. You're paying."

I just nod. Kat looks at me with apology, and I shake my head. "Totally worth it," I say firmly.

Kat and I take seats across from Leed and Bodie. Leed immediately offers Kat a punchy drink that the flight crew member has mixed up. "Hurricanes," he says.

"Ah. I get it. Signature drink of Bourbon Street. A toast to New Orleans, huh?"

Leed pouts. He likes the girls to let him explain all the whimsical shit he perpetrates.

I clink glasses with her, and deliver a kiss to her cheek. I love every fucking opportunity to kiss her, touch her, be near her. We have the whole flight, the whole evening, and the whole night before us. I stretch out my legs. I'm not usually one for fruity drinks, but damn this Hurricane is tasty. Kat makes everything more enjoyable.

"So, Kat...instruct us in this new method of self-defense you've developed against paparazzi." Bodie says with a twinkle in his eye.

"Ahhh, well, it's called the phone bash." She snatches his phone from the table between us. "I can demonstrate," she says slyly.

"Oh hell, naw!" he grabs his phone back. "I ain't sitting through this flight with a bloody nose and a cracked screen."

Leed laughs. "You can do Trace instead." He gets a devilish grin. "Or you can do Trace, instead." He gestures toward the back of the plane.

Kat looks a little confused. I lean over and whisper in her ear. "Ignore him. He's just being a douche. Leed's big on the Mile High Club, when he brings a girl with."

"Ah. That's a real thing, huh?" she whispers back.

"Yeah, but I'm not a member," I tell her. It's true. Joining the Mile High Club on a commercial flight is not something I would ever consider—those bathrooms are way too gross. Most private jets have better options for a little fun time, but I've never brought any girl with us on a private jet except for Ashlynn, a couple times. And I haven't been there with her,  a mile in the air, on the ground, or in hell freezing over.

Kat raises an eyebrow and whispers. "It does occur to you that Mile High fits perfectly with your whole Love Tree Metaphor."

I grin. It hadn't, but now that she mentions it..."That's a pretty high tree you're aiming to climb. Might take awhile to get to the top of that one."

"Hey, no whispering!" Leed throws a piece of ice at us. "We want to hear your dirty talk, too." Kat gives him a sweet smile.

"You really hate not being the center of attention, huh, Leed?"

Bodie and I crow with laughter. Leed rakes his red hair and grins widely, but he's a little embarrassed. "Game on, Little Sister," he says with a wink as he pushes his lanky frame from the seat and goes to join Mac and Adam. I sort of wish Kat hadn't done that. It's not that I think she can't hold her own with Leed, it's just that he's usually got a microphone and a much bigger forum to fuck with her than she does with him.

I'm not the only one thinking that. "That game doesn't go public, Leed." Marcy calls to him as she types on her phone. He paws a hand in the air. I'm not sure if he was agreeing with Marcy or dismissing her.

I hold Kat's hand as we taxi down the runway. "First time we've ever flown together," she murmurs, taking a sip of her Hurricane.

I'm hoping it's just one of many firsts.

Once we're leveled out, Marcy plops down in the seat Leed vacated and introduces herself to Kat.

"Heard you had a little trouble with a paparazzi." She hold out her phone to show Kat a picture. "Is this the guy?" Kat nods. "Thought so. Unfortunately, he already sold the pictures." She shows Kat an article about her, leading with a picture of her looking confused and upset. The headline reads: Little Sister Distraught as Soundcrush Guitarist Breaks Her Heart.

The article reports a bunch of lies about us dating when she was underage. Unfortunately they do have some accurate details about our recent time together, and they've made up a story to go with it.

Marcy reads the highlights. "Drama continues between Soundcrush guitarist and songwriter Trace Gallant and his teen muse, Katheryn Ballard. After Ballard was identified Friday night as the girl who inspired Soundcrush's multi-platinum hit Little Sister, history appears to have repeated itself. Gallant refuses to comment on reports that the song describes an inappropriate relationship between the two when Ballard was fifteen years old and he an adult, but there's no denying that he entertained Miss Ballard in his Four Seasons suite Friday night after Soundcrush's triumphant performance at the Fox. Unclear whether their relationship has been an ongoing affair or a recent reconciliation. Miss Ballard turned eighteen in May, just before her high school graduation."

Marcy looks at me over her glasses. "There's a photo of Kat clearly come from bed on your balcony, Trace, and you lurking like a creeper behind the curtain, by the way. Nice." She continues to read.

"Gallant was identified leaving Miss Ballard's North Atlanta neighborhood in Saturday afternoon in an apparent state of anger, recklessly endangering fellow drivers in a 150 mile an hour rampage through the heart of the city in a rented Lamborghini. Sources report Gallant abruptly ended his relationship with Miss Ballard due to Kat's involvement with high school sweetheart Colin Reiter. Sources also report that Reiter and Gallant had an altercation backstage at Soundcrush' Friday night Fox performance. Gallant himself grimly reported on his status with Miss Ballard onstage at Soundcrush's second Atlanta show, Saturday evening at the Mercedes Benz Arena, telling the audience. "She's not here tonight." Gallant was distracted at the Benz show, reportedly delaying the performance to exchange texts with Ballard. Tension was evident between Gallant and Soundcrush frontmant Leed Lawson over Gallant's onstage behavior, but the fans enjoyed their exchange."

Marcy slaps her phone down. "All that shit is true isn't it? A hundred and fifty miles through downtown Atlanta, Trace? Really?"

"Not the part about me ending things with Kat." I gesture at the girl ensconced beside me. "And it was probably more like one sixty five."

"This isn't a joke. Do you know who Dawes has been on the phone with all morning? Angelo Moran."

Fuck. That's the VP for the record label. "So?" I say, rock star veneer firmly in place. "We make him millions. He callin' to say thanks?"

"No, he's calling to ask if his talent is going to jail. Apparently, the record label lawyers told him you're within the statute of limitations for statutory rape charges in the state of Georgia. You know who else is calling? All the brands Soundcrush represent. They are already feeling flighty. Nobody likes to be associated with a sex offender."

"Marcy, you need to shut the fuck up, okay? You don't know what you are talking about. I'm not a goddamn sex offender and Kat has never been...violated by me in any way, okay? And this conversation is over." I gesture at Kat. "I mean, come on Marcy. This is way uncool. You couldn't just say, "Hi, nice to meet you Kat? Hope you enjoy New Orleans? Kat does not need this shit from you right out of the gate."

Kat is looking a little alarmed at the way I just spoke to my publicist, but Marcy is really pissing me off.

Marcy leans forward and glares at me. Her expression softens as she turns to Kat. "No, she doesn't. She doesn't deserve to be at the center of a media shitstorm. I'm sorry you're in the middle of this, Katheryn. But Trace—do you think this is fair to Adam or Mac or Bodie or Leed? This is their band too, and you are putting its viability in jeopardy."

The whole plane goes quiet. They are all listening now. That's when I realize, on some level, they all agree with Marcy. They think I'm fucking up, with Kat.

"I'm not the one that started this shit. Leed—"

"You brought her to the show. You took her to the hotel. You showboated through her neighborhood in that goddamn Lamborghini. You wrote the song. You did this, Trace." Marcy snaps. "And now Kat is here, and if that's the way it's going to be, then..."

"That's the way it's going to be," I say firmly, taking Kat's hand in mine and looking around the plane. "Everybody needs to accept that." I look at Kat, and I know what she's thinking. "You too, Sweetheart. No way are you backing out over a little static from the media, ok? You're fucking braver than that, and we are all fucking better than this. We are family even when we fuck up. It's always been that way, hasn't it? Maybe I didn't handle this exactly the right way, but you guys are gonna have my back, right?"

I look around at them. Bodie is nodding silently, almost to himself. Riley gives me a smile and a wink, but he knows his place and he never interjects into management issues. Dawes rolls his eyes and gestures at Marcy, to indicate that he's letting her play bad cop. The rest are staring stoney-faced into space.

"Look, if any of you have something to say, say it now."

Everyone is quiet. Finally Adam bursts out, "Yeah, I have something to get off my chest, Trace."

I'm surprised. Of all the guys in the band, Adam is the one I am always sure has my back. Fine, he's got a beef, I'll hear it. It's probably about the stage performance fuck-ups. "Speak your mind, brother."

Adam leans forward on hands on knees and looks at the floor. "Mac and I had sex the last two nights. Like, a lot of sex. But now she says it meant nothing, and I'm out of her system, and we are just friends. So my head is kinda fucked. All the rest of me is... kinda sore." He looks up at her with a devilish grin, but his eyes tell a different story. There's a little pain there.

Mac grips her seat and flushes to her eyeballs. "Goddammit, Adam!"

Leed jumps up from his seat. "Mac, what the fuck? You can't just use him like that. He's a person!"

Mac looks at Leed in disbelief. "I'm your sister! You are supposed to be on my side—like last time!"

"And he's my best friend. If you two are going to keep doing this, I'm going to have to take fucking turns siding with you guys!"

Leed whips around to our seats and roars like a lion at me. "Did you know, Trace!?!"

"Swear to fuck, neither one of them said a word to me!" I squeeze Kat's hand.

Mac and Adam are arguing now, Leed is interrogating Bodie to see whether he knew, and Dawes is asking the crew member to mix more drinks. Marcy is muttering "Christ, I hate all of you idiots."

"Marcy," I say, "About Kat, keep with no comment. There's nothing to this story but a pretty girl who sells pictures," I smile at Kat. "There's nothing to the shit they want to tag me for. Kat and I are dating now—for the first time—but we are going to be totally discreet. No more angry Lambo drives. No more fuel to the flame. It will blow over and the media will move onto whatever the Kardashians are up to."

She gives me a look as if to say, You know that's not true, but she knows better than to say a word about Ashlynn. I had a private discussion with her before the Benz show last night and Marcy and I are straight, on Ashlynn. Keep her under wraps from everyone, including Kat, at all costs. Clearly Ashlynn didn't out us to Kat, she's planning to keep that vow at least. That means only I break the news to Kat, and I'd really like to have annulment papers in hand when I do.

But for the moment the heat is off me and Kat. Leed is making a massive deal about Adam's confession, and Marcy couldn't shout him down and redirect if she tried. I shoot Adam a thanks, brother look and he tips his chin at me as if to say you're welcome. Then he sits back and takes more abuse from Mac. Smart, brother. At least her attention is still on you.

I take Kat back to the crew area in the back of the plane and ask the crew member for a moment alone. The attendant graciously moves up front with the pilot.

The look that Kat gives me when we are finally alone nearly breaks my heart. The whole time Marcy was showing her ass Kat was quiet and composed, but now, she looks like she's seconds from bursting into tears.

I take her head in my hands. "Look at me. None of this is your fault."

She tries to shake her head no. I commandeer it, and tip her head up and down instead, with a bad attempt at mimicing her voice. "I know, Trace. None of this is my fault."

She laughs and swats my hand away. "I don't sound like that."

"No, you don't," I agree. "You sound much more bad-ass, when you are giving me a hard time. So I need bad-ass Kat right now. Don't let this get you down."

"Trace... I'm back in your life two days, and your band is in jeopardy and people are acting like you belong in jail..."

The truth is, maybe I do belong in jail, for what happened that night. Karma is a bitch, I suppose. The real story will maybe never come to light. I don't think Kat even remembers what happened later. Black out drunk is strange sometimes. I know from our last talk—our big fight after New Year's—that she remembers the kiss. She remembers Chaz. She remembers being sick, and us talking after. I don't know how much she remembers about the cops, and then about Ashlynn and everything after. Maybe no one knows the whole story, start to finish, except me. Everyone else just knows the part they played, or what I told them. I'm the only one that knows the whole truth, and its muddled by the lies I told. So maybe its fitting that I'm finally getting heat for that night, when I walked away scott free at the time.

But none of this is Kat's fault.

"Kat, you have to trust me, okay? I promise you, this will blow over. This seems like a big dramatic deal to you. I get that. But this is Hollywood shit. Everything is a big dramatic deal. It's an industry filled with actors and musicians and creatives and power-brokers. Everybody flexes all the time. Even me. That's the Rock Star face you keep teasing me about."

"Problem is...I'm not in that kind of shape—to flex like that," she says.

I pull her to me into a hug, and she folds easily against me. "You don't have to have to flex, babe. That's what I pay Marcy for. To keep my personal life private." I kiss the top of her head.

"You know what we need?" I've been holding out on telling her the plan I made with Riley while Kat was hastily packing, but now seems like the perfect time to reveal it.

"What?" Despite all this bullshit I'm putting her through, she smiles up at me sweetly. God, I love her. Wait. I didn't just say that out loud, did I? No. Good. I mean, of course, I love Kat. And I know she knows I love her. She's like family to me. But I can't say I love her right now, because we are in-between-loves and it's a little scary. I don't quite love her like the kid next door anymore, and I'm not quite ready to tell her she's the one, because she can't be, can she? I already have a fake Mrs. Gallant. And I'm nowhere near ready for a real one. Ashlynn has shown me, I'm shit at that.

Kat is still smiling expectantly. Oh, my turn to talk.

"We need a date night, babe. Tomorrow night. A little bit of normal."

She laughs. "Right. That's a great idea. We'll just hit Bourbon St. Why don't you go ahead and call your favorite paparazzi? You will look great, corrupting an underage drinker."

"Ah, I'm not taking you to Bourbon Street, Kat. I have something really special planned," I wink at her.

Her smile breaks free, but she squelches it. I hate to see that—Kat killing her own joy. "You don't have to impress me, you know." Her voice is low, and her fingers are feeling up my back. "You impressed me before you were a rock star."

"Ahh, but now I am a rock star. So trust me when I say, this date will be epic. Just you and me and an army of people payed to ensure a private, romantic, interlude."

"Cause that sounds normal."

"Did I say normal? What I meant was...we need a little bit of epic, romantic, rock-star gesture abnormal. You'll get used to it."

"Where we going?" she asks.

"You'll see."

"Hmmmphh."

A mischievous squint narrows her eyes. I pinch her chin, and tilt her face up. "Riley works for me, you know. He's not gonna tell you."

"Damn." She flashes me a devilish smile that makes my mouth water slightly to kiss her. But I don't. I can't kiss her constantly, can I?

"We should uhm...head back to the cabin," I say, the words thick in my mouth.

"Trace," she whines my name, with a little hitch in the middle. She's still grinning that devilish grin. She pulls my hand to her mouth and bites my fingers. "Since we're back here..."

Fucking hell. Kat wants to mess around. I'm down for it.

I lean into her, pressing her against the wall. "Tell me what you need, baby."

Her eyes go round. "Ahhh, uhmmm. I don't know..." she stammers.

"Yeah, you do." I murmur in ear, kissing just beneath it. "Don't be embarrassed to say. Lovers talk about what they want and shit."

She laughs, low and sexy. "Ok. Maybe I...I want you to put your hands on me."

I kiss across her jaw. "Where?"

She catches my lips and puts her tongue in my mouth, giving me her sweet taste. "Everywhere."

I kiss her for awhile, then turn her around so her back is to me, and I spend a fantastic few minutes obliging my girl—massaging her shoulders, and back, and running my hands slowly down her butt, around her hips, up her belly, lightly lifting her breasts, and then back to her shoulders. By the end she is humming with pleasure and I'm suffering. But it's a very satisfying suffering. I love making her feel good. I mean, I always try to show the ladies a good time, but this is way better. This is Kat beneath my hands.

"Mmmmm, time to go back up front, before this gets out of hand."

"Yeah, I need a nap," she sighs.

Nap? Christ, a nap is the last thing I'm thinking. Then I remember she stayed up all night painting her room orange. Crazy girl.

The mood in the cabin is tense, but I pull out headphones and a blanket to share with Kat and we chill for the last forty-five minutes of the flight. She falls asleep against my shoulder. I watch her sleep and listen to her soft breath. I can't believe she's here. I don't know how much time I will have with her. Will she leave me when I tell her about Ashlynn? Can I make her understand? Will she stay with me the next ten days, while her parents are in Europe? Will she spend the summer on tour with me, if I ask her?

Adam moves to the seat across from me. He watches Kat. "They look alike," he murmurs, his voice barely audible.

It's true, but they don't smell alike. Ash smells like vanilla. Kat smells like a summer night in the South. Pine and gardenia and sweet, dark tea. I can't stop myself from kissing the top of her head, just to get a whiff.

Adam smiles. "Damn, man...how did you get it this bad this quick?"

I shake my head as I adjust the blanket over Kat. "It's always been. Before, I couldn't act on it. Now, I can."

He nods. "You gotta tell her, Trace. The longer you wait, the worse it will be."

I know he's right. The last two days have been a blur, and Kat hasn't wanted to talk about Ashlynn, but I can't spend another evening with Kat and not tell her something. I just don't know where to start. Maybe I'll explain that Ashlynn came to me when she ran away, and tell Kat how I tried to straighten her out and send her home twice.

No, I need to talk to Ash first, and see what the hell she told Kat. Obviously, she didn't tell Kat that she and I are married, but Kat did say that alot of what Ash said didn't make sense. I don't need to go into this conversation blind, that's for sure.

The pilot makes the announcement for descent, and it wakes Kat. She stretches lazily and smiles up at me with a sexy unfocused look. I can't help myself, I draw her chin up and kiss her, despite the fact that Adam is right there. I'm not usually a fan of PDA, but I simply can't keep my hands or mouth off Katheryn. She giggles and pulls the blanket up over us as she kisses me back.

We spend the few minutes of descent snuggled in our own little world. As the plane touches down, I know we can't go on, ignoring the outside world forever.

Ahhhh, Soundcrush is just a hot mess of drama, aren't they? If you wonder about Mac and Adam....well, their full story is for another book....wink! Seems like Trace and Kat are just a natural disaster waiting to happen, aren't they? Think about all the people on that plane, keeping Trace's secret...somebody is bound to screw up and out him before he finds the way to explain to Kat, huh? Preview of the next chapter: Trace talks to Ash on the phone and she has a SURPRISING confession...

Please vote, comment, share, and/or add to your library. It really helps a writer out. I'd like to write the whole Soundcrush series for free reading on Wattpad, if I get enough reader interest. Thanks!