Chapter 45: Rock Stars Got No Game Sometimes

This chapter is dedicated to Jaci_Leigh_2018 because I love your comments! Thanks for participating in my story!

Trace

Kat heads straight to the shower. No surprise, I am not invited to join her.

The realistic part of me is over the moon that Kat is even willing to try to forgive me. Honestly. I am fucking thrilled to be standing here rummaging Ellen's kitchen, making snacks for movie night. Christ, who keeps microwave popcorn in a drawer?

But then there's the rock star part of me that was banking on the 1% chance that Kat forgiving me would include us making love for the first time tonight. The rock star knows he's gotta go tomorrow, and he wants to lock her down.

Fuck, Gallant, get it together. She's your best friend, and the love of your life, not your property. Remember what Matt said. Be the guy. Give her what she deserves.

Kat deserves all the time she needs...and chocolate drizzled popcorn. My mom used to make that sometimes for us, when the whole neighborhood would turn out for the outdoor summer movies projected in front of the community pool. Kat loved it. I find chocolate bars and mini marshmallows in the pantry. Sweet.

I'm mixing the popcorn, melted chocolate-marshmallow goo in a bowl when my phone rings. Adam.

"Sup?"

"Not much," Adam says casually. "Just on tour with my band, Soundcrush. Ever heard of us?"

I laugh. "Fuck you, man. You know I'll be back for the Richmond show."

"It can't be soon enough. These session guys are good musicians, but it ain't the same and the fans know it."

"Nah, nobody misses me as long as Leed's on point."

"Yeah, well, he's MIA right now, too."

"What?" I nearly drop the phone in the melted chocolate. Leed was unreliable all last year, but he'd been solid this whole tour so far. More than solid. He's been the rock.

"He didn't get on the jet out of Florida. Dawes is pissed. Trace, if we have to cancel Charlotte..."

"What did Leed say, exactly?" I ask.

"Said he had to see a man about a boat, and he'd catch up in the morning. He hopped a commercial flight to Fort Myers."

The tightening I'm feeling all over relaxes a little. "I think he went to see Ashlynn. Her rehab is near there."

"What's up with that?" he asks suspiciously.

"Honestly, I don't know. I think they are actually...friends. If that's where he went, he'll only get an hour with her. He'll catch up in the morning. It's all good."

"Friends, huh? Who the hell would be friends with Leed, unless they were stuck in a band with him?" Adam jokes. "Or with Ash, unless they were stuck in a fake marriage with her? How is she, anyway?"

"Okay. One day at at time, you know," I sigh. "By the way, we aren't, anymore. Married, I mean."

"That's kinda dirty to hit her while she's down."

"She served me with the annulment papers," I growl.

"Fucking wow."

"Yeah. Listen, I gotta wrap this up. Date night with Kat."

"Damn, player."

"Hardly. I'm walking on my knees, dude. HellKat's in the house."

"You deserve it."

"I know. Before you go...how's Mac? I mean, how are...things?"

Adam blows out a long frustrated sigh. "Playing the waiting game. Mac is...tense. But okay. For now."

Huh, so she didn't take the emergency contraception. I really thought she would. "Uhhh, when will, I mean...how soon?" I fumble with the words.

"I think she could get a blood test now, but she won't. She says she's assuming she isn't, until she has reason to think she is. She says if she's late, she'll take a test. So, another four or five days, I guess."

"You okay, man?" I ask.

"Yeah, but you gotta get back here. If she's...I mean, I don't know exactly how she's going to react, either way. And if there's drama, somebody has to manage Leed and the band shit, because my concern will be—"

"Mac. I know. I'm back in two days, I swear to god."

The sound of the wood floor popping alerts me that Kat has made her way into the kitchen.

"Gotta go, Adam," I say and toss my phone down, turning the chocolate popcorn into a clean bowl and whipping around with my offering.

Man. Every time I go without seeing my girl for a little while, I'm blown away by her beauty all over again. I forgot how distracting she was in yoga pants and a spaghetti strap top. Her brown hair is up in a messy bun, and she's thrown a longish open cardigan over her lounge clothes, but it does little to hide the shape of her bangin' body from me. But that's not even the best part of her right now. The best part is her eyes look merry and she's grinning at me. I wasn't sure I was ever going to be graced with her unguarded smile again.

"Is that the chocolatey popcorn your mom used to make?"

"Yep."

"Mmmm, it's like crack." She pecks my cheek as she snatches the bowl. Ahh. I'll take it.

I try to get Kat to watch some soft-porn chic-flic, but she shoots me down with another, "Nice try, asshole." I was only kidding anyway, that movie looked like torture. We settle on the last big Star Wars movie, which neither one of had seen yet. The movie is alright, and Kat and I are nestled on the couch comfortably, but the whole time, I feel like I'm fifteen wanting to touch her, afraid she won't like it. For a while I stress it, and then I decide to act like a man and ask her where she's at with that.

I pause the movie. She looks at me. I clear my throat. "Uhhmmm...listen. I know we are at ground zero, trust-wise and romance-wise. I...I was wondering. Uhhhmmm." I laugh kind of nervously. "I feel like an idiot. Look, what I wanna know is...can I hold your hand?"

She just stares at me. Then she bursts out laughing. Loudly. She can't stop. She puts both of her hands over her mouth to dampen the sound but she's screeching with laughter.

I sit the popcorn bowl on the table, because I have a strong desire to dump it over her pretty little head. I prop my feet up on the coffee table and tuck my hands in my armpits, rolling my eyes and nodding my head tolerantly while she laughs at me.

When she finally starts to subside, I say, "Is that a no?"

"You...heeeheee...can hold...teeheeeheee...my hand!" she gasps. "I'm sorry...khee-kheeee...It's just so...heeee-huuuuhhh-heeee...fucking funny."

"What's so funny?" I sneer.

She takes one giant breathe in through her nose, and blows it out. Then again. She contorts her face, trying to remove the smirk. She slips her hand into mine, and leans on my shoulder. "You," she murmurs, a wicked inflection still lilting her voice. "Big sexy rock star with no game."

"I never want to game you," I tell her. "I want the real deal. No more games."

"Never?" She sounds disappointed.

"Well, not unless we are both playing," I say wickedly. "Maybe I should say...I want to let you...inside my perimeter. Like, right now. There are some more kind of important things I have to tell you. One is bad and one is good, and I'm fucking scared to death to tell you the bad one."

Kat's free hand slides up my chest, over my heart. She feels it beating wildly. "I think I know what it is. New Year's. Ashlynn didn't fall down the stairs."

My heart skips a beat, and shudders loudly. Kat slips her hand from mine and puts both her arms around me, holding me tight. "Trace, I've been keeping that secret, too. I wasn't passed out in your bed. I was drunk and sick and reeling, but I... I heard the whole thing, between you and your dad and Ashlynn. I've always known what really happened—that your dad shoved her and she hit her head on something, and he...he freaked, and you saved her life."

I wrap my arms around her and kiss the top of her head. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that, baby. I know what that's like...to hear that kind of violence and to be scared and powerless."

"Does Ashlynn know?"

I shakes my head. "She still has memory loss. I never told her because I worried it would make her more unstable. But I did tell your parents last week. They think we shouldn't tell her."

"Of course they do," Kat glowers. "They are all for keeping secrets."

"Do you think we should tell her?" I ask carefully.

Kat considers. "I think she has a right to know how she got hurt, but I have no idea what the best way to tell her is. Maybe you should talk to her therapist about it? I dunno."

"That's a good idea," I muse, tracing Kat's back lightly with my fingertips. I can't believe she's soft in my arms, while we are talking about Ashlynn, and she's not telling me she doesn't want to hear about her.

"Trace...your dad..."

"Belongs in jail, I know," I say darkly. "Kat...I can't. I know it's crazy, but I couldn't report him. You know, he's sober now. Or so he says. He emails me every few weeks, but I don't communicate with him."

"How come?"

"I try to act tough to him, and to anyone that might guess about the abuse. I front like I've written him off for good. But the truth is, I don't completely hate him. It was not always violence...not every day, not even every week. Holidays, after neighborhood cookouts, after golf tournaments—yeah it could get fucking rough. But at the same time I lived in dread of seeing him with a bottle, there were times...when he tried. He knew he had a drinking problem, and he didn't always give into it. There were months and months where he wouldn't touch a drop, and he was just...my dad. He would cook and make me help him when my mom was busy. He would take me to amusement parks. He taught me to ride a bike. Coached my soccer team and bought me that guitar. Showed me the first chords I ever learned. We went to football games. He taught me to drive. And he was a shitty dad because he made me fear him and he hurt me and my mom more times than I can even remember and most of me hates him, but I...I...," he sighs. "Not all of me hates all of him. Sometimes I pity him, and that doesn't feel like hate. Sometimes I remember some random good time, and that doesn't feel like hate. I guess that makes me fucked up."

"It doesn't make you fucked up. It just makes you human."

I lay my head back on the sofa, reveling in her warmth around me. She understands. She always did.

"Thank you for telling me," she adds softly.

"I'll tell you more, a little at a time, when I can, okay? I know, keeping it bottled up doesn't help, but I also don't want it to define me, you know? Especially since, I know why he was so angry all the time."

"Why?"

I lift her up so that I'm looking into her eyes. "Uhhh...that's the other thing I need to tell you. It's something that I just found out, about six months ago. Ross Gallant wasn't my biological father. He and my mom weren't exclusive when she got pregnant. They got married before I was born, but he knew there was a chance I wasn't his, and he took it. When it turned out I wasn't...I guess he had a lot harder time accepting than he thought he would. He just..." I shrug, "wasn't man enough for the situation. It ate at him. Especially because of who my father actually is, I think."

Kat's hand is over her mouth again. "Your father was someone he knew?"

"Not personally, know. But everybody knows him. He's sort of...famous." I bite my lip. It's so fucking weird to tell someone this, but the whole world is going to know tomorrow.

Kat's eyes go round. "Oh my fucking god, are you serious?" She's bouncing up and down on the couch, beating it with her hand. "Your father is Matt del Marco?!??!" Her mouth is open, her hands out in supplication, like she's waiting for me to confirm.

I blink. "Yeah. How'd you see that coming?"

She backhands me lightly the chest. "Because you are totally fucking in love with him, doofus! You get this dreamy look on your face whenever you say his name!"

"I do not." I color.

"You do, you really do!!!" she squeals. "Oh my god, oh my god, my boyfriend is Matt del Marco's son!" she's bouncing on her knees on the sofa, scrambling to find her phone. "Shit! Can I tell Maddie and Laurel? Holy shit! They are going to freak!"

"Hold the fucking phone!" I shout indignantly, swiping her cell from her and pocketing it. "First of all, no, you can't tell anyone! Not yet. It's a huge secret and we're breaking the news to kill the fact that someone found out about my marriage-that-wasn't."

"Was too," she snaps.

"Was not," I counter, "Secondly, you...mean it? You still consider me your boyfriend?"

She's clapping her hands excitedly, her blousey, messy bun bouncing around wildly on her head as she sticks out her tongue between her grin. She looks as freakish as an emoji. "Well, duh. Who wouldn't date Matt del Marco's son!?!?!" she teases.

"What the hell? He's just some old dude. Your boyfriend is not just Matt del Marco's son. Your boyfriend is Trace fucking Gallant, founder of Soundcrush!"

"Yeah, yeah," she gives up trying to reach for her phone, and grabs the popcorn and remote with a smirk. "You keep telling yourself you are a bigger and sexier rock star than Matt del Marco, hun."

She doesn't turn the movie back on. Her spine straightens, and she gives me an odd look.

"What?" I ask, sure she's about to ask me to get Matt's autograph.

"His wife knows, I assume?" she asks.

"Yeah, she's weirdly cool with it," I wave my hand vaguely. "Marianne is one helluva lady. I like her a lot."

Kat is still staring at me with an unreadable expression. "What?" I repeat.

"Have you uhhhmmm, talked to her recently?"

"Day before yesterday. In Nashville, when Matt and I met and decided we were coming out with our relationship. Actually they are in town here, for one of her charity things. I'm supposed to fly back to LA with them tomorrow, to break the story." Suddenly I realize that's the first time we've talked about what happens tomorrow. "I wish we had more time, Kat. Is there anyway...I mean...would you consider coming with, and then back out on the road with me? I know New Orleans was a disaster but I promise I can make it better for us...no drugs, hell no partying at all if you don't want--"

"Trace, I can't. I have to leave tomorrow, too."

I crack my neck-left, then right. Why is she doing that damn internship? She doesn't even want to go. "I thought you didn't want to do that lab research thing."

She's got a weird expression on her face that I can't quite place. "I can't just be your arm candy, Trace. Three days with you taught me that. I won't be happy like that. I need to make something of myself. I need to figure some things out."

"Okay, well, how long does your lab gig last? Maybe you can come back out on tour before school starts—"

"Let's talk about it in the morning, okay?" suddenly serene, with a smile like the Kat that swallowed the canary, she plops the popcorn bowl on my lap and snuggles down beside me. "I want to finish the movie."

At least she lets me hold her hand. And I keep holding it, until the end of the movie, and all the way upstairs as we prepare to go to bed. I keep the connection, lingering outside her bedroom door. She lets me back her up against the wall, and I run my hands up her arms, and neck, cupping her head gently, leaning my forehead down on hers. Giving her ample opportunity to kiss me, and give me the sign.

She doesn't.

"Can I sleep in your bed with you?" I ask her. "Skin cuddles?"

She slides her head to the side, averting my gaze. "The way I'm feeling now, if you come to bed with me, I'll want sex with you, not skin cuddles."

I stroke her bottom lip softly with my thumb. "I love you, Kat. I'm down to prove it. In whatever way you need. If you want to make love tonight, I'll give you a first time you'll remember forever. If you want to wait, I'm good with that, too. I can sleep down the hall, or I can sleep beside you and be a perfect gentleman. Whatever you want."

She runs her hands underneath my shirt and scrapes lightly along my abs. "I think...I need to sleep separate. My body is too primed to sleep with you, without sleeping with you. But I'm scared, when we get down to it, I'll start thinking of you and Ashlynn, and I'll freeze up. I don't want get turned off like that, especially in the middle of my first time."

"There was never a me and Ashlynn, not like that. I thought you believed that," I say softly.

"I know, but I'm still jealous of what you two shared. I can't stop thinking you lived together, like a married couple. I keep imagining you together, in a house I can't quite see, doing stuff like we did tonight—making sandwiches in a kitchen I can't picture, sitting on a couch whose color I can't imagine. I keep wondering what the damn ring you bought her looked like, or what she did to make the Soundcrush guys like her and feel awkward around me. I know I have to shut all that noise down, but I just need...some time, you know? To feel like it's you and me, not you and her."

I smooth a stray piece of hair that's sticking from her bun off her forehead. "Now that you've explained it like that, I can definitely see where you are coming from. You're really good at expressing your feelings. I'm sorry that I've put all this shit between us we have to work through, but I'm so...fucking thankful that you are still in this. For the record, you are more beautiful, and more mind-blowingly intelligent, and more desirable to me than any woman I have ever known, and I'll make every kind of sandwich known to man with you, if it will fill your mind with me and you, and push out the images of me and her living together. You and I have already done PB&J...we'll make grilled cheese for breakfast, okay? Next BLT's, and after that a nice turkey and provolone on wheat—do you like tomato? I can't remember. Personally I think meatball subs should be after that, but then we can go gourmet—like a Monte Cristo or a shrimp roll—"

She's smiling and shaking her head at my stupid speech, and then she does the unexpected.

She kisses me.

Just a soft press to shut me up. Her lips move delicately, pursing gently against the seam of my lips then working their way across my top lip. I'm transfixed, totally given over to the sensation of receiving, and not creating, our kiss. I'm desperate for her tongue, but I wait. I'm waiting for her to bring the fireworks like New Year's but right now, she's only giving me sweetness. When I can't stand it anymore, I run my fingers through her hair, taking her bottom lip between my own, massaging it with a tender suck, swiping it just barely with my tongue, hoping against hope that she will open her mouth, her heart, her trust, and (not gonna lie) her legs to me.

She breaks the kiss.

"I still need time," she says as she stumbles back into the darkness of her room and shuts the door on me.

"Yeah, okay. Goodnight," I say through the door.

"Goodnight," comes the muffled reply.

Awww, I just love Trace! He's a big sexy rock star, but he's not afraid to act like a doofus to make his girl smile. Double update today, guys! I'm out of town...going down for breakfast and I'm posting a very short, kinda sexy chapter when I get back into the room! Show Kat and Trace a little love and wait for it!