Page 102 of Fractured Frets

He took a puff, inhaled deeply, held his breath, and handed it back to me. He half-grinned, nodded, and let out his breath.

I smirked. Yeah. It was good shit.

“So what’s up?” He leaned against the barrel next to me. “You wanna talk?”

I loved him...but my love life was off-limits. “Nope.” I didn’t want him to get angry at Maddy. I wouldn’t have him say a bad word about her. I was the problem. Not Maddy. She’d had her life sorted out until I’d stepped in on the scene and interfered. I’d texted her all those months ago. I’d wanted to keep seeing her. I was the one who’d taken us to Vegas, gotten excessively drunk, and asked her to marry me. Why the fuck had she said yes?

Hurt flitted across Flint’s eyes. “Why not? We talk about everything.”

“No, we don’t.” Too much curt bluntness snapped through my tone, but I was in a shit of a mood and didn’t care.

“Yes, we do.” Flint jerked his chin back. “What don’t I talk to you about?”

“Phil.” Low blow, but it was true.

He winced and lowered his chin. “Okay...you got me. That’s still hard.” He fidgeted with his silver bracelet from Phil that shimmered in the moonlight. “It doesn’t mean I don’t think about him or miss him like crazy. I’m sorry it’s taking so long, but I’m getting better. It doesn’t hurt as much anymore. We can talk about him if you need to.”

He straightened as if bracing himself for a hard blow. But I didn’t want to talk about Phil. Not right then, anyway.

“Not today.” I shook my head as I flicked ash off the end of the joint.

“Okay.” Relief swept over his face as he rubbed the back of his neck. “So...are you and Maddy alright?”

“Nope.” I rested my head back against the wall. “Everything is fucked up. Leave it at that.”

“I won’t leave it alone. You’re upset, and I’m here for you.”

I closed my eyes and nodded. “I know, man. It’s just gotten so hard, and tiring, and I feel like we’re going backward. We’re barely holding on, and I hate it.” I sucked on the joint, let the buzz drift in waves through my head, then let the smoke out slowly. “She doesn’t trust me. She thinks I’m gonna run back to Harper. Harper’s not helping, taunting the hell out of Mads. She doesn’t know Harper is just shit-stirring. I hate Mads doesn’t believe me. Being away from her and all the gossip circling around us is just causing more problems.” So much for not talking.

“Fuck. I’m sorry, bud.” Flint took a small step forward. “We’ll deal with Harper. But you and Mads? What can we do to help?

“Nothing.”

“But you understand that this would be extra hard on her.” He folded his arms and leaned against the barrel again. “She’s not here and has to deal with all the bullshit online.”

“Do you think I don’t know that? I call her and text her every day. We’ve been together for two fucking years. What’s it gonna take for her to trust me?”

“Time together.” He shrugged as if the answer were obvious.

“I want that. I want this tour over so we can do that.” But nausea flooded my gut. I was afraid Maddy and I wouldn’t last that long.

Flint shot air through his nose. “I haven’t seen you fucked up over a girl in a long time.”

“No relationship should take this much effort or be this hard.” I fought back the sting in my eyes. “I’m losing her, and I hate myself for ruining what we had. Getting married was supposed to make things better, not fuck up everything.”

“Hey?” He patted and rubbed my knee. “Hang in there. Wait until we get home, then you two can sort your shit out.”

“I hope so.”

“I’m sorry you and Maddy had a fight.” Flint softened his tone. “But you always work shit out. So please, just let it go for tonight. You’re stoned. Not thinking straight. And upset. Tour is tiring all of us. You’ve got your hip to deal with. But I promise we’ll get through everything together. We only have two months left...or if it’s really too hard and too much, we’ll cancel the rest of the shows.”

“Are you mad? I don’t want to do that.” I took one last drag on the joint, stubbed it out and flicked the bud into the grass. “We’re not canceling.”

“You’re more important than a few shows.” He jutted his chin toward me. “If you’re seriously not coping and need to sort your shit out with Maddy, we’ll cancel or postpone the dates until you’re ready to hit the stage again. You come first.”

He was serious, but so was I. I had to keep my shit together. Stay focused on Maddy. The tour. Making it through every day until we could be together.

“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary. I’m fucked up, but I’ll be okay.” I wouldn’t let down the guys, our team, or the fans. I wasn’t that much of a mess. Am I? No. I’ll be okay.

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