The Problem With Heartache (Crazy in Love #3) Page 2

  “I must have forgotten to tell Kate you were coming. Ah, well, she’s glad you could make it,” Deborah said. She returned to the stove and gave the simmering pot a stir. “Dinner shouldn’t be too long; make yourselves at home. Take a seat in the lounge, or here if you’d like.”

  “I’m going to …” I glanced at the door, then back to Benny.

  “Go, man.” He nodded, and I returned the gesture, then walked outside.

  The path from the house to what I presumed was the garage wasn’t long, ten feet at most. When I reached the open door, I looked in, past the parked Ford Ranger parked, and over to the corner …

  And there she was. Leaning against the brick wall, her head tilted to the ceiling.

  “Hey.”

  She whipped her gaze in my direction, and I couldn’t read her expression. It was somewhere between anger, fear and … indifference.

  And I knew all about indifference.

  “You didn’t have to come, you know,” Kate said. “I’m sorry if I was rude, it’s just … You didn’t have to, and now you’re here, and I’m sure there’s probably some cool bar you could be at, or some girl …”

  The words hung unspoken between us. I was happy to let them stay that way.

  “It’s cool. I wanted to see how you were doing. We had to give Michael and Stacey a lift up here anyway; I thought it’d be nice to drop in. Say hi. See how you’re holding up.” To my ears, the words sounded weak, but it was the honest truth. I swallowed. How truthful would her answer be?

  And do I want to hear it?

  “I’m okay.” Kate shuffled one foot on the floor, sweeping it in an arc in front of her. “I’m actually doing good.” She managed a smile.

  It was fake as all hell.

  “How’s your dad?” I changed tack.

  “He’s … he’s okay, too.” Kate seemed to shake off whatever it was holding her in one place and walked to the fridge, retrieving three beers and handing one to me. “Everything’s just … okay, you know?”

  She was inches from me, and her eyes, her hazel-coloured eyes were flecked with gold. There was something about her—the fineness of her features, the fullness of her lips … I licked my own. You could cut this tension with a knife.

  Or, with the dropping of a beer bottle, which was what Kate did.

  “Shit, sorry.” She bent down to pick it up, but I did too, and it was like a scene from a bad romantic comedy. I swear—all we’d need was to butt heads on the way back to our feet.

  Come on, Lee. Take control. Do what you came here to do and be the family guy.

  I straightened my body, looked her in the eyes, and spoke. “Listen, I wanted to tell you … I’ve spoken with the guys—the guys in the band”—Idiot, give her the details—“and we want to set up a small charity fund for you guys. I know how hard it can be, having one parent out of action, trying to get by on government help but having to work your ass off to do it, and I wanted to do something, you know?”

  Since the word “charity” left my mouth, Kate had been shaking her head so sharply, I was worried she might strain a tendon. Shit, do you even have neck tendons?

  “No, no. We don’t need your help.” She pushed past me, but I grabbed her wrist as she did, and I swear a tiny gasp escaped her mouth. I bit down on my smile.

  “I’m not saying you need it,” I said, pulling her closer to me. Her chest rose and fell as she breathed, and I immediately pulled my gaze away from it. I was here to help her. Not to stare at her boobs. “I’m just saying it’s something we’re doing. It’s non-negotiable. Just something small, say two grand a month. I’ll make the checks out to you guys, or we can put it in your account—whatever.”

  Kate threw her wrist down, and this time, there was a definite fire in those golden eyes. “You will not do any such thing! We’re not a freaking … we don’t need your pity, Lee Collins. We do just fine on our own.”

  “Don’t you see?” I raised my voice to match her volume. “I know you don’t need my pity, and that’s lucky, because I’m not offering it. This is me helping a friend out, because I get it. My dad …”

  I trailed off as recognition flashed in her eyes. My father had Parkinson’s. It wasn’t identical to her unique familial disease, but it still sucked ass.

  She bit her lip, and stepped back again. “I forgot,” she said, and I leaned closer in case she spoke again. “I still can’t take your money, though.”

  And with that, she spun on her heel and fled back into the house, leaving me standing there with a bottle of beer and a slight case of wandering eyes as I found myself wondering how skin-tight those jeans must be to give her ass such amazing shape.

  I shook my head. I came here to try and help them, to have dinner, and to leave.

  That ass was off-limits.

  For more reasons than one.

  “SO, HOW did Michael adapt to life in a big band like yours?” Mum asked. Her eyes were wide with excitement, and it was hard not to at least giggle a little.

  But then, every time I giggled, I felt guilty. The weight of oppressive sadness would wrap around my shoulders, encompassing me in its misery. Lachlan still wasn’t here. And nothing, no amount of ridiculous words from Mum or flirting from a too-privileged pop star would fix that.

  I shoved my plate forward, losing interest in the food. How could I eat when my stomach churned with memories? When this time only a week ago I’d been celebrating my birthday with my dead ex-boyfriend?

  Mum looked at me and all but pushed the plate back to its spot, her eyes telling me to eat. I guess it was better than her eyes telling me to launch myself at Lee Collins. Not only was I missing Lachlan with a heartache that broke me in two—a crushing pain that had me losing interest in everything—but I’d had my fair dose of flirting with artistic types with Dave. Tortured artist really wasn’t my thing, especially when the torture they were inflicting was on me.

  “He went really well. It’s a bit different to touring here in Oz, you know?” Lee smiled easily and leaned over to grab a second helping of potatoes. I saw a flash of approval in Mum’s eyes. She loved seeing people eat. She shot me a nod, and I could practically read her subtext of See? What a healthy, strong boy!

  “In what … way?” Dad asked. He was seated between Lee and Benny. Who brought a security guard with them to dinner, anyway? I got it, he was famous, but I didn’t see any crazy fans running around outside. Was it really necessary?

  “Lots more people. Lots more shows. Lots more media.” Lee nodded. He spoke a little slower for Dad’s benefit, but not too slow—not the sort of slow some people did when they made him feel ridiculous. Where they made me feel ridiculous.

  “So what about you, Kate? What have you been up to recently?” Lee turned his attention back to me. Thankfully, despite Mum placing my drink down next to Lee’s, I’d managed to rearrange the seating so I was safely between Benny and Mum. I had a feeling that sitting that close to Lee-freaking-Collins could possibly result in me trying to punch him in the junk for insulting us with his handout offer. Heat crept up my cheeks as I thought about what so many other people had probably done with that ‘junk’, what they would do to be seated so close to him right now.

  I shook my head. He was hot, sure, but it didn’t matter. He wasn’t Lachlan. No one would ever be Lachlan. And six months wasn’t enough time to even begin to change that.

  Guilt crept in at my conscience, the ever-present assistant to my main man, depression, who haunted my thoughts at night. I shrugged to try and shake it off, to clear my thoughts, and stared at Lee. He didn’t hold a candle to Lachlan. In fact, that rich, American, dinner-attending, security-shadowed type was about as un-Lachlan as you could get. I bet he’d never done anything spontaneous in his life. He’d probably need to clear it with the FBI first.

  “Kate’s been doing a lot of soul searching,” Mum said, smiling. Soul searching? Really?

  Mum patted my hand lovingly, and I gritted my teeth. Oh, yeah. He’d asked a question. Oops.
br />   “It’s been a little hard on her, but she’s getting there.”

  “Are you working?” Lee asked, as he twirled some pasta around his fork.

  “I am now, but not for much longer.“ I shook my head. “The café you performed in, Sideways? Johnny’s getting in a new team. He’s taking a break for a while.”

  I studied my hands, laced underneath the table within each other. Work was this bittersweet pill I took every day. I was close to him there. I could feel his presence, see his art, smell that invigorating scent that used to lace his body—

  “Oh, that’s cool. Taking time off after something like what he’s been through …” Lee shocked me out of my reverie, and my focus snapped to him. “… I have no doubt he needs it.”

  Are you going to offer him charity money, too? I asked myself, then snapped it back. Shit, why was I being such a bitch? He was just trying to do something nice.

  And there. That was the crux of it. There was no reason. Since Lachlan died, all I had become was a heap of lazy, unmotivated and depressed, with a dash of bitch thrown in on the side.

  “So Kate is going to look for jobs elsewhere, aren’t you, petal?” Mum asked, tapping my hand again. I swore, she was going to run a path in my skin. “She always wanted to do event management.”

  A light shone in Lee’s eyes. “That’s right. You hooked up Dave & The Glories playing with us in December.”

  “She did.” Mum beamed.

  “You know, we might have an opening coming up on the next leg of the tour.” Lee spoke the words slowly, a calculated gleam in his eye. “Don’t we, Benny?”

  “We … do,” Benny confirmed. His lip twitched and I shook my head. Oh no. Oh, no, no, no, no, no.

  “You’d just have to do hotel bookings, make sure we’re where we need to be on time … Check we have what we need, when we need it … that kinda thing,” Lee said. “You’d be perfect for it.”

  “Kate would be. She is the most organised little soul.” Mum smiled, her eyes wide, leaning so far forward over her plate with excitement so that her loose floral top drooped against the red sauce covering her pasta.

  “It’d be all expenses paid, in the States.”

  “America,” Mum repeated, eyes widening at me.

  “And on top of that, we’d pay you an initial …” I waited for it. I raised my eyebrows. “Two grand a month, for the two-month leg.”

  There it was. Surprise! The rock star couldn’t get his way with that initial charity proposal, so he was forcing it down my throat.

  “That’s a lot of money, hon.” Mum patted my hand again, and this time I pulled it away. She bit her lip. “We’d miss you a lot—so much—but I think it’s important for you to take opportunities when they come to you.”

  I pressed my eyes closed and ran my finger around the collar of my shirt. Even though it was only just coming on spring, it was suddenly hot in here. Too hot.

  “Be … good.” Dad echoed Mum’s enthusiasm, and I gave him a weak smile. He’d already sent me off.

  I looked back at Lee. “You don’t have to give me an answer now. But I’d really like to have you with us.” His eyes flashed with sincerity.

  “And we could use a new member on the team,” Benny said. “Someone with a feminine touch would be well appreciated, now Stacey’s staying here. Keep Lottie company.”

  “Lottie?” I furrowed my brows.

  “Our stylist.” Lee flicked his hand, as if the question wasn’t important. “Anyway, we fly out on Tuesday. Let us know if you want to go and we’ll talk to the record company about trying to employ you through their Aussie branch, so you don’t need to worry about a working visa and can hopefully swing it on just a visitor’s pass.”

  “Great. Kate will be in touch. Now, tell me more about yourself, Benny. Do you have a girlfriend?” Mum speared a piece of potato and popped it into her mouth.

  Conversation = closed.

  They didn’t need me here for the discussion. That was more than fine with me. For the last six months, I hadn’t really wanted to be here, anyway.

  I mentally checked out for the rest of dinner. It was getting easier and easier to do—closing myself off to the rest of the world, putting on a smile-and-nod show and counting down the minutes, the hours until I could be alone with my memories.

  Benny and Lee left straight after dinner, Lee handing both Mum and me cards with his contact details on them. I snatched Mum’s away and stashed it in my room, deep in my dresser. Left in her possession, my bags could be packed by sunrise.

  When the final clang of dishes stopped downstairs and the lights in the house dimmed, I pulled on my runners, lacing them up tight. I tiptoed down the staircase, careful not to disturb Mum and Dad. It was hardly an illicit activity I was out to do, but it was one they hated all the same.

  They didn’t like to see me running. It wasn’t good for me. I was too skinny, and running in the dark wasn’t safe.

  They didn’t know it was the only way I could get to sleep. That until I’d exhausted myself—pushed my body to the very limits of its capacity to feel, to hurt, to embrace pain—I couldn’t get there.

  I started at a slow jog, past the identical houses that lined our street, then headed toward the main road. My feet slapped hard against the pavement, the cushioning in my shoes not enough to stop the jolt up my legs.

  Pound, pound, pound.

  Lachlan. His face, his smile, his laugh.

  Pound-pound-pound.

  Making coffee, skinny-dipping, watching movies on the couch.

  Poundpoundpound.

  His lips, pressed to mine, his hands running over me, in the car, careening down the freeway.

  POUND.

  I doubled over, gulping in shallow breaths of air that were too thick to penetrate my lungs. The ache in my chest stabbed at me as if I’d been knifed, but the stitch was nothing to the ache in my heart.

  When I got home, I collapsed in bed, covered in sweat despite the early spring temperature. My hair was plastered to my forehead, my heart thudding at top speed.

  And still, I dreamed of Lachlan. It seemed nothing would make that stop.

  That wasn’t the worst part, though.

  The worst part was waking up.

  “So, let me get this straight. The lead singer of the Grammy-award winning Coal asked you to go on tour with them, and pay you a stupid amount of money to do so, and you said no. Capiche?” Stacey threw a tennis ball at the ceiling and then caught it with a snap against her chest.

  “Something like that,” I mumbled, slurping the dregs of my milkshake and then sliding it across the red Formica tabletop. I looked around, taking in the 50s-style diner set-up, the black and white tiles … the coffee machine …

  Lachlan, grinding the beans. The smell of coffee as he ran it through the machine. His chocolate-brown eyes, flicking up to me as I spoke.

  Me.

  Him seeing me.

  Him touching me.

  “Kate.”

  I blinked, and I was back where I was two seconds ago, only it was Stacey’s hand around my wrist. And Lachlan wasn’t there.

  Lachlan was never there, despite how many times I was convinced I’d seen him. He’d left me. For good.

  “Sorry.” I pulled my wrist back into my lap where it busied itself with my other hand, twisting and scratching and pulling. I had all this energy, all the time now—and nowhere to expel it. Lesley, my counsellor, said it was because I was feeling so much emotion but I wasn’t getting it out, so it expelled itself in a physical manifestation. Mum just thought I had a massive case of the fidgets.

  “Don’t apologise, sweetie.” Stacey gave my arm a gentle rub and then pulled back, perhaps thinking the better of it. “It’s allowed to still hurt, you know?”

  Tears welled in my eyes for the zillionth time in the last six months and I blinked them back. It was stupid how often I cried now. Anything could set me off, from a trip down to Sydney, to my best friend caring.

  “Anyway, so no, I’
m not going on tour,” I said, shrugging the emotional stuff off. Sometimes, it was easier that way.

  “Why?”

  “Heaps of reasons. He’s doing it out of charity. I’ll be away from my family. And I need to stay here, for Johnny.” I let my eyes roam to the counter where Johnny was just finishing up the milk on a cappuccino. He saw me looking and smiled. I grinned back at him. Both of our eyes were empty, but we got each other. And it was nice. It was nice having someone who understood.

  “Charity? He’s paying you to perform a job. And pretty crap money. Two grand? That’s five hundred a week. After tax, and considering you’ll be on call seven days, that’s nothing,” Stacey scoffed, leaning back in her seat, conveniently leaving the ‘all expenses paid’ part out of the equation. “And yes, you’ll be away from your family—for the short length of two months.”

  “A lot can happen in two months.”

  “It can, Kate. But what has happened in the last two? I mean, aside from me coming back from touring with the band to find you’ve lost about half your body weight and now look like a microphone stand.” She shook her head. “But seriously, how did you keep your boobs? I exercise, and I exercise, and they’re the first things to go.” She looked miserably at her chest, and pushed up her more than ample breasts. An elderly gentleman at the table next to us widened his eyes to the point where I worried they may fall out of his head. I smiled.

  “Okay, so I get that it’s not that long a time, and Mum can probably handle anything family, but what about Johnny?” Stacey’s eyes scanned the room and I saw the moment they locked on Johnny. I saw because they got this look of depth, of sadness, of regret. Had my best friend always been so empathetic when it came to death? “He needs me.”

  “Kate, I have no doubt he does.” She leaned forward and rested a hand on my knee. Why was everyone so touchy-feely with me lately? Did I look that needy? “But the thing is, he’s stepping back from the café to be with Lesley. You told me so yourself.”

  I swallowed. It was true. My former boyfriend’s brother was dating my former genetics counsellor, now turned regular counsellor. They were in love, and there were even talks of them going on a yoga retreat. It was twisted, to say the least. And not just in the downward-dog department.