Page 29 of Holiday Hookup

“I thought when we started this all those years ago that being the lead singer would mean girls, attention, and more girls. And in a way, that is exactly what I got. But I never thought of the consequences that came with all of that attention.”

Frankie rolls his eyes as I finish off my drink and put the glass down on the table in front of us.

“You don’t get it. You never did,” I mutter, getting up from my spot on the couch and heading toward the window.

“Then enlighten me. Tell me what I don’t know.”

“There was so much pressure on me all the time. I needed to look a certain way, dress a certain way, and act the right way all the fucking time. Every interview we did, every question was directed at me. All the songs were either written by me or I co-wrote them. Every concert I had to be in perfect health because if we had to cancel then I’d feel awful when fans would rip me apart for being too sick to sing.”

Frankie sits there and says nothing because there is nothing to say.

“I’m tired, man. What I found when I was outside of this hellhole of a city was perfection. Nel and her son showed me a life I never knew I could have. Something normal, something innocent and it didn’t come at a cost. It was simple.”

“But what about us?” I don’t miss the hurt in his voice, and I know this is hard for him, it’s not easy for me either.

“Frankie, you need to understand that this isn’t some decision I’m making on a whim. I’ve been thinking about this for years.”

He nods, and I finally think I’m getting through to him.

“No matter what happens, you will always be Blanked Edge, even without me.”

“Dane, we built this together, I don’t want to do this without you.” His voice cracks and I begin to realize that Frankie isn’t really upset about the album, he’s upset about me leaving, and I can work with that.

“I know this whole situation seems devastating,” I start. “But right now, this is something that I need to do. Not just for me, but for you guys too. I’m holding you back. My songwriting isn’t as strong, my voice isn’t what it used to be, and I know you and Brent have ideas on where to take the band, ones that don’t include me.”

His eyes bulge and I know I hit the nail on the head.

“It’s okay, Frankie, I’m not upset, I’m grateful. You guys are so talented, way more than I ever was, so leaving the band in your hands is the right thing to do.”

It takes a few more hours of conversation but I finally get him to see my side of the story, and I hope I can convince the label to do the same.

Chapter 21

Jaxon knocks on my door loudly, yelling that he’s hungry and needs breakfast, and I groan into my pillow, hating the sunlight that is peeking through my curtains. I am not a morning person. I hate it with every fiber of my being and yet I have a child that loves waking up at six in the morning on a Saturday when he should be sleeping in. Heck, when I should be sleeping in.

“Come on, Mommy, my stomach is about to eat itself!” he screams, and I can’t help but laugh.

My child is as dramatic as any girl you will ever meet and as I get out of bed, retying my hair up in the bun it escaped from during the night, I wonder what my life would be like without him. I shake those thoughts away, hating that scenario and picking my phone up off my bedside table where it’s been charging all night.

DANE: I miss you.

Dane’s text sends a smile across my face. My morning texts from him are always the same. Telling me he misses me, that he can’t wait to talk to me. But if I’m honest, I don’t know how much longer I can take this. Watching all those gossip news channels on TV is getting under my skin. Jenn tells me I need to stop watching them, and I know she’s right, but I’m a glutton for punishment, I guess.

Just as I make my way into the kitchen there’s a knock at the door, and before I can answer it, Jaxon opens the door and screams, “Dane!” Launching himself into the arms of the man I’ve dreamed about seeing for the past month. His short black hair is striking against his pale skin, and I can see how tired he is as his eyes meet mine.

“Jaxon James, what have I told you about answering the door!” I yell, hating myself at first because I do not love yelling at my child, but the nervous feeling I’m getting in my chest is so overwhelming I have no idea what to do.

“Sorry, Mommy,” he whispers, his chin tucked against his chest as his eyes look to the ground.

God, the freaking guilt that washes over me when I see his teary eyes. And when I crouch down next to him, it almost becomes too much.

“It’s okay, sweetie. Why don’t you go to your room for a minute so I can talk to Dane.”

He goes to question me, obviously wanting to spend time with Dane too, but I can’t, not until I know why he’s here and why he didn’t tell me he was coming.

“Jaxon…” I warn, and he stomps his feet all the way down the hall until I hear the door slam. Definitely going to have a chat with him about that later.

“It’s done,” he says with a smug smile on his face, a face I missed so freaking much over these last few weeks.

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