Page 51 of Rock Star

I remembered the adage, ‘once an addict, always an addict,’ and I shouldn’t have been surprised. Shouldn’t have been so freaking disappointed I’d wanted to curl up in the fetal position and cry like a baby. I’d been a complete idiot to fall for him. He was a junkie, first and foremost. How could he tell me he’d never go down that road again then do so? I’d given him my heart and he’d ripped it into little pieces.

I’d never expected to feel sorry for Camila, but I did. She’d loved Ella, but Ella hadn’t loved Camila enough to put her first. She’d been an emotional wreck. In the restroom, she’d said she’d regretted coming on the tour. She’d only done so because hanging with the band helped with her grief.

I tossed and turned. Sleep eluded me so I decided to go and get a glass of warm milk from the galley. I inched my way out of my seat and tiptoed down the plane.

The flight attendant was still awake, so I gave him my order then sat in an empty seat nearby.

A familiar masculine scent tickled my nostrils.

“Axel,” I gasped. “What are you doing here?”

“Same as you, getting a drink.” He raked his eyes over my face.

“I can’t sleep,” I said.

“Neither can I.” He caught his lip with his teeth in that maddening way that used to make me go weak in the knees. “Would you like to hang out?”

I drew my brows together. “No. I’m pissed at you.”

“With good reason,” he rasped. “I’ve been a complete wanker.”

His admission kinda took the wind from my sails, but I wouldn’t let him off the hook.

Not now.

Maybe not ever.

The flight attendant arrived with my milk. “I’ll have the same,” Axel said to him. “And please bring us a bottle of brandy.”

I remembered us sitting here on the flight to Europe drinking the same drinks. Little did I know what I was letting myself in for. My poor freaking heart stuttered in my chest.

Axel cleared his throat. “I want to apologize.”

I gazed into his smoldering dark brown eyes and my breath caught just like it had done before.

Only this time, I knew better.

“It’s just words, Axel. I need actions.” I inhaled deeply, forcing myself not to drown in his gaze. “I need to believe in you again.”

“I’ll do what it takes,” he promised, reaching for my hand.

“My Mom is fighting to live,” I murmured. “I love you, but I’m not sure I have the strength to deal with someone who is willing to throw his life away for another hit…”

I extricated my fingers from his.24One Month Later“How are you feeling?” I asked Mom, like I asked her every morning.

“Fine,” she responded the same as always.

We were sitting at the small table in our tiny kitchen, eating breakfast. Oftentimes the meds she was on made her sick and she couldn’t stomach food, but today she was managing to eat some toast with butter and jelly.

I reached across and stroked her hand. “You’re doing great,” I smiled. “So proud of ya.”

Mom had undergone her stem cell transplant five days after I’d gotten back from Europe. She’d had to stay in the hospital for two weeks. Now Dad and I were alternating taking her in for daily check-ups in his beater car… an old Chevy Cavalier.

“I’m proud of you too, sweetie.” She tilted her head toward me. “Are you sure it’s okay for you to take so much time off?”

It was a question she kept asking, and I reassured her as usual. “The entire band is on a break. Don’t worry.”

Jake had taken the guys to the Bahamas to veg out, mindful that the stress of touring had tipped them over the edge. They were due back later today, and I would join them next week in their recording studio on the days when I wasn’t taking Mom to the hospital for her labs.

“Tell me more about the tour, sweetie.” A smile lit her face. “I love hearing about it. What was Paris really like?”

My breathing slowed as the memories took over. “It was incredibly romantic.” I gave her more details about our hotel overlooking the Eiffel Tower, about the Sacré Coeur lit up at night and how we’d driven past the Moulin Rouge. Sudden tears stung the back of my eyes.

I missed Axel so fucking much. I missed hanging out with him, being held by him, our convos about music, working on songs together and the mind-blowing sex. The connection between us had been so strong. We’d barely been out of each other’s sight. It still hurt so fucking much that he’d thrown it all away to snort cocaine. I swallowed the lump in my throat. I’d never realized pain like this existed… it was all consuming, crushing me into specks of dust.

“What’s wrong, honey?” Mom squeezed my fingers.

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