Chapter 34

Kate slid the key into the lock of their front door and practically moaned at the thought of a shower and her bed…in either order. Hour thirty had blended into hour thirty-two with blood, death and more guts outside of a body than in. She loved the ER, the fast pace and the challenge of it, but she could live without the ultra trauma to bring home to bed with her.

When she opened the door, the first thing she heard was the whump-whump of the bass in Elena's room and the groan went from relief to annoyance in a heartbeat. Christ, all she did was listen to dance music when she was fixing herself to go to a party. Another party. The doctor part of her worried that she was stumbling home far too often with eyes strung out on something more than alcohol. The friend part of her wanted to tie her down and get her sober and let her have a good cry.

She pounded on the door. "Elena! Turn that shit down a bit, huh?"

The music went down the barest of amounts before the door opened. "Oh, hey Katydid. You look beat." Elena was dressed to the nines, all in silver, make up a little harsh to cover the circles, but her party girl facade firmly in place. "I'll be leaving shortly so you'll have the place and silence all to yourself." Elena reached over and shut the music off completely and grabbed her small silver clutch. "Don’t wait up for me, ok?"

"Honey, how about you skip a night." The tired was beating her into the ground but she gave her a hopeful smile. "We can watch Breakfast Club and drool over Judd Nelson."

Elena was nearly to the door then turned, her eyes going from bright to shadowed in under two seconds. "No can do Katydid. I gotta...well, I just gotta get out of this apartment."

She sighed. "All right, but call if you need a ride. I don't want you driving like you did last night."

Her shoulder lifted in a shrug, "I wasn't that tore up Kate, Just a little bit tipsy. I had classes today. Well, "She paused a moment, "I was supposed to have classes today, but it’s Friday.” Her smile was wide, if a little brittle. “I needed some extra time to get ready for the party at Phi Sigma Sigma. It’s supposed to be wild, and I could use a little wild, you know?" If the party was wild, then she could forget him for a few hours. With the barest wave and a flash of silver Elena was through the door and gone.

"Shit!" Kate slammed down her knapsack and pressed her thumb and forefinger at the bridge of her nose. She hated to feel useless and the days were getting worse with Elena. She wasn't going to forget Richie in the party circuit, but she was damn well going to try her best to do so. All the frats were just a quick walk across the street for God's sake.

She walked to the fridge and grabbed a Corona, splitting of a section of lime to jam down the longneck before taking a long pull. Deciding the shower was her first stop she started to pull up the bloodied scrubs top only to hear a knock at the door.

Jon stood there and watched the door wondering if either girl was home. “Bro, looks like they might not be here."

Richie turned his hand from knuckle to the flat of his hand. "They have to be here," he said and slapped.

"Not exactly the best way to make an impression, there stud.” Jon said crossing his arms over his chest, leaning his shoulder against the doorjamb.

The door swung open, a disheveled Kate stood in the doorway with a less than enthusiastic look on her face. Damn, that wasn’t good. Jon shot Kate a bright smile.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she said by way of greeting. Kate pointed at Jon. "You, no grinning, I don't find you funny. And you," she cocked a fist at each hip. "How dare you show your face at our place?"

Jon clenched his molars together, determined not to laugh. Kate was not in the mood to be teased and he liked his balls where they were, thank you very much. His eyes drifted from Kate to his bewildered axeman. Nope, he’d keep his mouth shut for now.

Richie took a step back. He'd known he was heading up a steep and icy hill coming here, but he'd been ill prepared for a glacier. "Hi, Kate. Is Elena around?"

"I can happily say no," she pushed the door closed.

Richie quickly shot his hand out, an inch from getting his fingers sliced off. "Wait!"

"What?” Her green eyes were stormy with temper and fatigue. “She's not here,” she said through the thin slit, “and if you think you're coming in here right now, you passed stupid and moved into lobotomy patient status.”

"I need to talk to her, Kate." Richie’s eyes were earnest when he stepped forward, tucking the tip of his boot into the doorway.

Jon’s grin widened to a smile. "You tell him, Katy."

“Who's side are you on?" Richie growled then turned back to her. "I know I was a shit, but I have to make it up to her."

Kate sighed, letting the door open a fraction more. His eyes had the same hollow quality that her girl had, but it wasn't enough. Nothing had ever put the hurt on Elena like that man. "You can make it up to her by forgetting her name and her address. She's over you."

"If she was, you wouldn't be this mad," Richie said softly.

"I'm not going to let her get hurt again, that's all." She swung the door hard, satisfaction curling in her belly when he swore as the door dug deep into his boot. "Get off my porch!"

Jon winced, the amusement fading. He needed Richie back on his game for London and walking away without talking to Teensy wasn’t going to work for him.

"Kate, please," Richie said softly. "We're heading out of town for a few weeks tomorrow. I need to talk to her."

Jon willed Kate to listen. He could only pray she'd relent a bit, because there was no way he could deal with Richie in London, not in his current state. At least if he talked to Elena and attempted to mend fences he might move on.

Richie pushed inside. "I know you don't like me right now, but I need to talk to her. I need to at least try dammit," he growled.

Jon slipped in behind him, Katy’s scent circled around him, driving a need he’d been able to ignore back to the foreground. Stuffing that down, he settled himself against the far wall of her apartment. This was about Elena, not him. His eyes coasted down the formless scrubs she was wearing, the baby blue smeared with only God knew what, and wanted nothing more than to find the first flat surface to stretch her out on.

Kate’s jaw dropped as they both commanded the room by just standing there. Richie’s dark intensity clad in denim and leather, and Jon…She forced herself to breathe normally. The long, brown suede fringed jacket flapped around skin tight jeans did that did nothing but distract her very, very tired brain. His hair was soft and a bit overgrown around his eyes. When her fingers itched to fix it she turned toward Richie. Hell no, she wasn’t going there. "Look, I'm sure you're a great guy, but you mean less to me than a dead cockroach right now.” The anger simmered and she focused on that instead of the hormones that Jon brought out of hibernation. “Lains doesn't need a man like you in her life. Sweet first, then a total head-case. And you guys bitch about women!" Dialing it back she blew a long, slow breath out. "We don't need this in our lives right now, and that goes for both of us."

Jon’s eyes widened. What the fuck had he done? He'd been good. He hadn't called her once, even contemplating duck taping the phone to the wall to stop himself from calling on a few nights. Schooling his features, he kept his eyes on her, steady and serious. “Hear him out, Katy.” He twisted the diamond encrusted ring on his finger keeping his gaze locked with hers. “Please.”

Part of her wanted to relent. Mercy, could it be worse than what she was going through now? She pushed her hands through her hair and sat down, her head bowed. "Why do you want to see her?” She looked up to meet Richie’s dark eyes. “Why should I let you hurt her again?"

Pride and anger had no place here. Not if he wanted Elena back, and certainly not if he had to convince a woman like Kate. She was a doctor, she'd heard every story out here. Nothing but honesty was going to work with her. He knelt in front of her, closing his fingers around hers. "I was too stupid to know what I had."

Kate closed her eyes, not able to resist the earnest eyes and the dark circles that equaled Elena's. "Dammit," she whispered. She hoped to hell she was making the right decision. "Frat house across the street." When he started to stand she grabbed his hand. "Do NOT make me regret this, Richie."

His smile was electric and she gasped when kissed her, hard on the mouth. "You won't. I promise you." He stood and nodded at Jon, "I'll be back."

Jon slapped his arm, "Take your time bro." He looked over at Kate and mouthed a silent, thank you, as he Richie bolted through the door.

Chapter 33

There...the truth of it laid bare and he wanted to snatch every word back.

"If that’s the way of it, Rich,” Jon laid a hand on his shoulder, “you think touring will kill it?”

“It has to,” Richie whispered.

“We’ve always been about taking chances, man. What makes this any different? You’ve never been a coward.”

Richie’s eyes flew to Jon’s. “Fuck off!”

“No, you fuck off and get over yourself while you’re at it. I’m sick of your shit and so is everyone else. Bring her on the road for awhile, what’s one more on the bus for Fuck sake.”

He pushed his hair back. With a night of Jack and the sweaty dreams, the need for a shower was acute. "Fuck," he held the door. "Let me take a fucking shower. I think best in the shower."

Jon backed off. If he badgered him any more then he’d go the opposite way just to be stubborn. "Sure thing man, you think. Just don’t think too long, we’ve got a plane to catch tonight."

The first crack of a smile lit his face. "Yeah we do."

Jon turned and moved back towards the living room. "’Bout damn time, Shithead." He hated to be wrong, but Elena was definitely more than a one nighter. He couldn’t afford to have Richie flying off the handle every night. And if finding a pint-sized Elena and dragging her on the road was what Richie needed to get his shit together, then that’s what they’d do.

God help him.

~~~~


Richie shucked his clothes and turned the shower on full blast, cranking the heat as high as he could stand. As the cobwebs dissolved under the pulsing water he felt the tension in his shoulders ease for the first time in what felt like forever. It was stupid to put the weight of his world on a woman, but at the same time, she’d made such an impression on him, that it required at least a try.

He wasn’t going to forget her. There wasn’t a single part of him that didn’t ache for the smooth, silky skin of her body or the quirky humor that slid from that equally sassy mouth. He was toast and he should just admit it and either get her out of his system or…

He dunked his head under the water. He couldn’t think about the or right now. He just needed to win her back. Soaping up he pictured her again and his fingers drifted lower to his cock that was always so maddeningly hard.

He’d tried to fuck her memory out of his mind, but the drunken snatches of memory did nothing to ease the pain. He couldn’t even seem to get himself to enjoy another female. No woman could touch him like she did. He had a sinking feeling that no woman ever would. He rinsed and slammed the flat of his hand on the faucet, stepping out of the shower. Nothing but Elena was going to do at this point.

He padded back into his room and sighed at the drops of alcohol still on the wall. Taking the damp towel from his waist he swiped at the wall until most of it came up, then dropped it in the corner where the rest of his laundry was. Stretching he grabbed a t-shirt and caught himself on the turn as his foot skidded out from under him. "What the fuck?" He leaned down at the soft card under his foot and peeled it off the still damp sole of his foot. "Well no shit," he said as he turned it over and Elena's face stared back at him with that sassy smile. He took a quick look up at the ceiling and kissed the ring on his pinkie. "Looks like the guy upstairs wants me to find you too, Elena."

The drivers license gave an address a few hours outside of Asbury Park. He quickly dressed and opened the door. "Jonny!"

Jon's head snapped up at the yell, "Dare I ask why you’re yelling?”

Richie grinned. "Feel like a road trip?"

Jon groaned. "We're heading out tomorrow for London, isn’t that enough of a ROAD trip for you man?"

He held up the license like an Olympic medal. "Well, I can find my way there if you're not interested, but I'm going to find Elena tonight."

Jon was out of the chair before he finished speaking, "Got the head screwed on right finally then? Let’s go!" He grinned at his brother, if he was off to find Elena, that meant finding Kate, and maybe just maybe that niggling spark of hunger that came when he thought of her would ease a bit.

Jon grabbed the keys and Richie plucked them out of his hands. "I'm driving, psycho. You're not getting near my baby now that I'm sober."

"Yeah, like you drive any better. I only got the one ticket, unlike you, King." Jon waggled his brows and laughed. It was damn good to see Richie back to his old self. He had to admit, that where Elena was, Kate generally followed. It made the trip worth it, no matter what.

"Well speed is exactly what we need right now. We've only got tonight to convince her that I'm a grade A asshole that deserves another shot."

"Don’t think you'll have ANY problems convincing her or Kate that your a grade A Asshole my brotha." Jon grinned and sidestepped the fist coming his way.

Richie gripped the back of his neck and firmly pushed him down the stairs. "Watch it, Jonny. I can leave you here, then you don't get to bug the hot little doctor."

Jon snorted, "You need me as a damned shield and you know it."

Richie winced and popped a stick of gum. "I wish I had a good comeback for that, but it's true. Maybe I should go grab my old baseball cup from college."

Jon grinned, "I’d suggest the black cowboy hat myself, Elena did seem partial to it that night."

He smirked and snapped his gum. "She did, didn't she? I should keep that one for the first day back after London. Maybe she'll take pity on me."

"You wanna live to GET to London man? Wear the black." Jon grinned as he slipped into the passenger seat.

Richie dropped into his seat and turned around. Sure enough, the Stetson lay on the back seat with the shiny silver medallions glinting in the sun. "True, dat." He gunned the engine and headed for the highway.

Chapter 32

Richie dropped onto the sofa and leaned his head back. Every single room in the god forsaken apartment was blazing with fucking light. He reached to the end table for his shades and stuffed them on his face. He wasn't sure when he'd finally finished the bottle of Jack, but…he lifted it, peering at the completely dry bottle, he’d certainly finished it.

Jon walked through only to find his friend recovering on the sofa. Again. "Hey Fuckface."

"Seriously?" Richie winced, making sure he looked through the lenses of his shades to a far too chipper Jon. Good Christ, couldn’t he leave him the fuck alone for one morning? "Could you keep it down?"

Jon wandered over to the stereo and put on AC/DC at top volume as he wrapped his knuckles in tape. "You wanna drink all night? Fine, go recover in your room. I’ve got to work out." Jon's voice crept louder with each word. Shaking his head he pushed his hands into boxing gloves. He’d started using a trainer when the tour started kicking his ass. Keeping his endurance high had helped keep him fresh on stage and boxing was all about endurance.

He didn’t have to work out now. Hell, he wanted to go back to bed, but Richie had to stop this shit. He was going to be a fucking useless piece of shit at the Hammersmith if he didn’t get his act together. It was an important show and he didn’t have time to babysit him in London.

"You're a fuck." Richie stood and went back to his room and slammed the door. Again, memories of her slammed into him. He leaned on the door, closing his eyes, praying his belly would settle. Maybe he could spend one morning without his face in the fucking toilet.

He was looking forward to going on the road that night. London would keep his mind off of Elena. He’d been waiting for months to get to that gig, but now all he saw was a way to forget. What he was looking forward to, was getting out of this room. He banged his head against the door as a flash of her legs wrapped around his waist threatened to drive him to his knees.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He stalked across the room and gripped the edge of his dresser. He stared at his bearded face in the mirror and the dark circles that were digging deeper each day. "Get it the fuck together, man.” He bumped his toe into one of the half dozen bottles that littered the floor of his bedroom. It was taking more and more grain alcohol to get him unconscious, especially when he had to sleep here, where she haunted him the most.

Anger, white hot and overwhelming fueled him as he picked it up and hurled it against the wall. Glass shattered and the remnants of the bottle dripped down the wall.

Jon crashed through the bedroom door, one glove under his arm. "What the fuck happened?" His eyes scanning the room thinking Richie had finally done harm to himself, only to see him weaving and glass sparkling like rain drops on the carpet.

Richie pushed past him and headed for the bathroom, emptying the contents of his stomach as the blinding anger met with stomach acid for a very bad combination.

Jon followed him, wincing at the retching sound that kicked back a bit of his own beer from the night before. Richie had always been a bit of a drinker, but nothing like this. He’d always been able to handle liquor and know his limits. "Your fucked man, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"Just leave me alone," he said and pressed the flusher. He stumbled to the sink and turned on the taps.

"No can do, Bro. You haven't been right in days, not since...." Jon's voice trailed off. "You were a total waste of space at the last interview and now this every night? Whatever has your head up your ass needs resolving, man. If this is over a chick--"

"Back off, I'm dealing." Richie stared at him from the mirror.

"Dealing at the bottom of goddamned bottle? If she’s that fucking important than go fucking get her." Jon tugged off the other glove and peeled at the tape until his hands were free again. He sure as shit wasn’t going to get back to the bag now.

His head dropped forward as he sucked in a steadying breath. "I'll be fine when we're on the road."

“Maybe you just need another bang and she’ll get out of your system.” Watching for a reaction he swallowed a smile when Richie’s tired eyes went hot.

“I said I’ll be fine!” He turned, advancing on Jon. Just the thought of her like that, like a faceless chick he’d fucked. Like the others. Rage bubbled deep in his chest. She wasn’t like that.

Jon's brow arched. He’d taken a punch from Richie before and man, he didn’t want to go there again. If that’s what it took to get his head into the game, well, he’d done far worse to get what he wanted. "What’s eating your ass so bad then?”

Richie turned away, bracing his hands on the pedestal sink. God, he just couldn’t get her out of his head. The road. The road would do it, the road had saved him on so many other occasions. That’s all he needed. He’d lose himself in the music, not in her deep brown eyes.

"LOOK at me goddammit." He had to push, even if he ended up with a busted mouth. "If she was nothing why do you spend your nights in a bottle? Why is the bed unmade still? Why do you sleep on the couch? You can’t even face your fucking room!”

Richie whirled on him. "What the fuck do you know?" His hand came back, fist clenched.

"I know you hit the bottle to make her vanish. HAS SHE?"

Richie’s arm shook with the need to lash out at him, at something. Maybe a little pain on the outside would numb his insides. "She's everywhere here! As soon as I get on the road, I'll be fine."

"I don’t fucking believe you,” Jon's voice grew stronger as he braced himself for the fist that would be coming his way.

He weaved a little, nausea rolling again as the fear closed in. His arm lowered. "She's under my skin after one night, what the hell am I going to do when she leaves? They all leave. Our life isn't for relationships, Jonny. I can see it. I can feel it...it's so good my gut aches. It would be good for a while...maybe even a year before the touring killed it. She'd rip my guts out."

Chapter 31

The sweet kiss rocked him to the core. It wasn’t going to be the last time he saw her, that was for damn sure, but for now, it was her friend that was hurting. If he tried to push her now, well…he’d done enough negotiating in his 25 years to know when to back down a little. "Yeah, you too, Dr. Kate."

He watched as Kate walked over and slid into the driver’s seat of the red mustang, pausing to talk to Elena before pulling into traffic. He swung a 180, his thoughts tumbling like dice onto each other. His original stand on Elena had labeled her a groupie, but after seeing both of their reactions he wasn’t sure that was still the case. Women came and went through their lives. The road was hard on a relationship under good terms, but the shit both he and Richie had stepped in was going to take a long time to get off.

Jon pulled into the driveway the car straighter than it had been parked last night and shut the motor off. Taking a deep breath he slid from the car and walked up to the apartment. Opening the door he tossed the keys on the counter and sing songed "HONEYYYYYYY IM HOMEEEEEEE!"

Richie just grunted as he walked by him and slammed the door to his room. Yeah, he’d definitely misread the night before. Something about those women were going to haunt them for a long time.

~


Richie dropped the towel that hung at his waist, grabbing whatever was on top in his drawer. A shower usually cleared out his brain, but that hadn't worked. It only strengthened the pounding headache he’d picked up after his conversation with Elena. Leaving the top snap open on his jeans he dropped on the bed to sleep his way into the handful of aspirin he'd swallowed. His cheek hit the soft cotton of a shirt instead of his pillowcase. Turning to see the black and white photo of Jon Lennon, he hurled it across the room.

Slamming his eyes shut he could see her soft, little body lost in his shirt, her dark, glorious hair tumbling over her shoulders, hiding the graphic shot of his idol. "Fuck," his eyes snapped open, the pulsing response in his dick to that image didn't help at all. He scrubbed his hands over his face and flipped over, pressing his hard on into the mattress, hoping for some relief. For fuck’s sake, he’d balled her—no it hadn’t been balling. It had been different. Everything about her had been different as soon as he’d touched her. Tugging the pillow over his head, he pushed her out of his head.

Her soft, soapy, clean scent and the night of sex clung deep into his sheets. He stood and ripped off the sheets, tossing them into the corner of the room as far away from him as he could manage. The pillowcase sailed after the fitted sheet and top sheet and he buried his nose into the naked pillow. Even with the scent of her gone, the images remained.

Sleep would help. Maybe if he could sleep away the memory of her, he’d get his fucking head back on straight. He lay face down across the bed, torn down to just the mattress, and stared at the floor until the shadows started to make shapes. The shapes plotted against him, he thought darkly. The ruffled edge of a bra peeked from the stack of clothes on his chair.

It was probably someone else’s. Elena hadn't been the first woman in his room and likely wouldn't be the last. But the small triangle of filmy lace and the tiny straps wouldn't be denied. He stood up and lifted the barely there confection of womanly silk and fantasy inducing black lace and groaned. He could smell her on it, that simple bar soap he would forever associate with her as his cock jumped like a fucking dog.

He held his hand over the basket in his room, but something wouldn't let him toss it.

A pounding fist rattled his door. "Rise and shine my man, time to get a move on!"

His fingers gripped the bra and stuffed it under the pile of clothes. "Fuck," he said again and grabbed a shirt, tugging it on as he opened the door. He’d forgotten all about the photo shoot they had scheduled. It wasn’t like they ever had a real day off. Just because they weren’t on stage, didn’t mean Doc didn’t have something planned for them. He swung the door open. "Yeah, yeah. I'm ready."

Jon’s eyebrow quirked, "You don’t look ready, bro, you look like shit."

"Good thing those people at the studio are magic with makeup," he said and pushed by him.

"Ain’t no make-up can fix what's got you torque, buddy. She was just some chick, you’ll forget her." Jon needled.

His chin went up as he looked down his nose at Jon. "Watch it, Jonny. I'm in no mood for your brand of humor."

Jon's brow arched, "Who’s being funny jackass? You’ve been fucking your way across the country, not like she was any different.” He watched Richie’s eyes darken. “Right?”

Not answering him, Richie stepped into black leather boots and grabbed his fringe jacket. "I'll wait for you in the car." He grabbed his keys and clomped down the stairs, needing air. Jon didn't know what the fuck he was talking about. He pulled a crumpled pack of cigs out of his jacket and lit one, dragging the nicotine deep into his system. She wasn’t supposed to be different. Hell, different was all sorts of complicated right now.

Jon slammed out of their apartment building, a similar leather jacket but more tailored filled out his skinny little shoulders. He knew Jon hated his small stature and did anything to push the focus away from his slim build. "Photo shoot should be interesting,” he grinned, “lots of girls there to look at."

Richie blew smoke out the window and cranked the radio. "Great," he said with false cheer. Maybe a bunch of willing girls was just what he needed to banish her from his head.

Jon leaned his head back, slipping shades over his eyes. "It’s a perk of the job, man.”

"What the hell is up with you? Did you hit the bottle already?" He gunned the engine and shifted smoothly as he headed into the city. The only time Jon was a motormouth like this was when he’d tied one on. He glanced at Jon’s obviously sober as shit face and shook his head. "I need fucking coffee," he said as they pulled onto the main drag and spotted a Dunkin' Donuts. "You want?"

Jon grinned, "Sounds good man." His eyes gleamed, yep, throw him off center, keep him off balance.

Richie climbed out. "You stay here, I can't deal with the shrieks when they realize who you are.” When he just shrugged, Richie headed inside and ordered their regular shit and added a chocolate glazed to his order. When he turned around he spotted a tiny brunette from the back and his gut tightened. When she turned around, he bit back a litany of four letter words and kicked open the door with his boot. She didn't even look like Elena for fuck's sake.

"Here," he said and handed Jon his coffee through the window before he rounded the car and chomped through his donut.

Jon blew on the coffee quietly before sipping. "Thanks."

Richie's eyebrow rose. "What? No retort, no comment?” he asked, forcing his shoulders to relax and his chest to ease. He was not going to go postal about some one night stand. He just wasn't.

Jon continued to sip his coffee, "So, what d’you think they'll want for the shoot man?"

"To tease your hair until you're as tall as me," he said and shifted into traffic.

Jon snorted. “Fuck you.”

"Hey, I'm not the one with heels on my boots."

Before Jon could throw another insult at him, Richie climbed out of the car when he spotted their keyboardist. "Hey, Dave," Richie gave him a quick, hard hug. "Enjoying your week off?"

Dave nodded. "I was until I had to come here and waste an afternoon."

Jon rounded the car and nodded to the guys. "Dave, Teek sorry for the last minute call on this shoot.” Jon slung an arm around Tico. “So where’s the makeup tent and the photographer?"

Tico grinned around his ever present smoke as Alec rushed around to get in the middle of all of them. "So where are the chicks, man?" he asked.

Richie turned the lot of them around and pushed Alec forward from the back of his head. "Onward, gigolos...er, men. The women must be over here. I hear giggling."

Jon walked to the area set up for makeup and prayed that at least one of the gigglers was a tiny brunette. "So guys, enjoying your time off?"

Tico nodded, "I played a round of golf every day, I'm doin' just fine."

"Somehow I knew you'd say that." Jon grinned as he eyed what he was looking for. "Excuse me a moment, you guys go get ready."

Richie forced Elena out of his head and focused on his brothers. They were the only thing that got him through the rough times. Propping his forearm on Tico’s shoulder, he grinned. "So, tell me you found something else to do besides sink a little ball in a hole," he laughed. "Unless.."

"No little balls here," Teek laughed and lit up another cig.

Jon returned, half smoked cigarette in hand. "Ok who’s up first?"

"What they want our picture too?" Dave quipped.

"Of course they want mine," Alec said and puffed up his chest. "All the girlies want some of this."

"Yeah strange rumor is that a few girls actually like the rest of you. I cannot figure out why, but there ya have it." Jon smirked..

Richie pushed Dave ahead. "You need the most work, frizz head."

"Hey, no fucking with the curls man, chicks dig 'em," David crowed. "Leave 'em be."

"Lying to yourself is one of your many talents," Richie said with almost a straight face.

"Children, please," Alec said and peacock strutted his way into the tent. "Allow me."

“Hiiiiii guys," came a breathy voice from the left. When all the guys turned toward her, the girl put an extra twitch in her step.

"Hello, honey!" Davie said with a big grin.

Big brown doe eyes artfully done up with mascara batted towards Dave a little smile on her burgundy slick lips. "Hi," but he was soon forgotten as her eyes locked onto Richie.

Richie's signature smile split his face. She was cute enough, he thought and let his dimple wink for added measure.

A fine eyebrow arched as she sashayed over. "Well hello there, tall dark and handsome."

The words echoed in his brain and his grin faltered. "Hiya, darlin'," he said automatically and winced in his head. Well fuck.

A soft giggle escaped her as she pressed closer to him. He was pretty sure her breasts were fake, making him think of Elena’s soft, gentle curves. "I hear you like a good time,” calculating eyes met his before she slid her tongue across her lower lip. “I’m allll for a good time, cutie."

Richie's shoulders went square as he moved over a bit. "You did, huh? You might be thinking of the wrong dark and handsome," he pointed to Alec sitting in the make-up chair. "He likes a good time."

The small brunette went back to him like a magnet. "No cutie, I hear it’s you. The really tall, dark drink of water.” She tapped the slice of flesh that peeked from the button down shirt he wore, open at the chest. “I bet you like a good time.” Dark, flat brown eyes went calculating as she smoothed her fingertip over his chest. Richie’s skin went to ice. He was used to women throwing themselves at him and he was usually quick to reciprocate, but her touch left him indifferent. “I can give it, really." She slid her hands up his chest. "You should try me. I'll do anything."

"Whoa ho," Dave laughed. "Maybe we should leave the King and his new minion alone, here."

Richie glanced over at him. "No really, you shouldn't." He forced a smile and tugged her arms from around his neck. "I'm sure that would be fun, darlin'."

She shimmied up against him, her hips squirming against him, "Sure why don’t you guys leave us be just a few minutes. I'll make him alll happy."

A little lost and feeling slightly side of beef like, he took a step back. "I'm sure you could make me as happy as can be, darlin' but I've got some work to do."

"Aww come on cutie pie, you only have to take a picture or two." She batted overly made up eyes his way.

The word cutie kept eating at him as he grabbed both of her wrists in one long fingered hand, yanking them away from his neck. "I'm flattered, darlin'," his gut roiled when her eyes went hot with lust as his pressure increased when she tried to cling again. "But I'm not interested, really."

"Awww, well it’s your loss, Gorgeous." She blew him a kiss and wandered over to Alec. His stomach nearly heaved as she started with the same schtic on his bandmate. And as much as he loved Alec, he didn't like how he treated women in general. Alec had his tongue down her throat in a second and a proprietary hand on her ass, pushing the make-up artist aside.

Dave walked over to Richie and put a hand to his forehead. "Nope, no fever."

Richie leaned back. "Hey, fuck off."

"But, dude, you've never turned a groupie down before,” he said honestly puzzled. “Man you gotta be sick with something." David grinned , "But no fever, so hmm."

"Christ I'm not some man-whore," he said and stalked over to the tent that boasted cold drinks.

"Since when?" David called after him. "King of Swing?"

Richie looked in the coolers.

"Can I help you sir?"

He turned around to the soft sound of a woman's voice and bit back a groan. Another fucking tiny brunette. "Tell me you have beer."

"Certainly," she beamed and popped the top of a bottle of Corona. "We were told you liked this brand."

Richie sighed. "Thank God," he saluted her and moved back to his crew.

Chapter 30

Elena kept her head down as the car began to move off down the street. "I’m sorry your celebration took such a bad turn, girlfriend." She couldn’t wait to get back to her car and back home, and maybe…just maybe, put this behind her.

Kate swiveled around. "Nah, no worries, Sweets.” She watched her friend’s eyes darken with sadness. Trying anything to cheer her up she smiled brightly. “We'll get back home and have ourselves a good old fashioned girls night with the TV. I’ve got a stack of chick flicks, a gallon of Double Chocolate Chunk ice cream and enough popcorn to stuff ourselves until we need Pepto to sleep."

Elena tried to smile, and failed. "You got it. ‘Til the Pepto's needed."

And a box of tissues. Kate flicked on the radio and laughed when, "You give love a bad name, bad name..." screamed through the car. "Oh is that you?" she asked innocently.

Jon started to laugh, humor in his gaze, "Naah, just some weird guy with funny hair from what I've been told." He knew she was trying to lighten the moment. He glanced at his rearview mirror, catching the forlorn Teensy in the backseat.

"Moptop, right girlfriend?" Kate asked.

Elena managed a smile. "Yeah, Moptop."

Kate’s gaze moved to Jon, daring him to say anything considering his Teensy comments. She reached over and fluffed it, realizing her mistake almost immediately. It was so much softer than it looked, she’d forgotten. "Well, the girls are envious and titillated at the same time, Sugar."

Jon gave a swift nod, "Ok enough with the hair, it’s all about the illusion. I'm more than the hair; trust me," he said, shooting a glance at Kate.

Kate’s grin faded. The light teasing was gone as he gripped the steering wheel. Had she said something wrong? God, why did she care? Focusing her gaze front and center the radio seemed harsh instead of playful now. She turned down the volume until it was just a murmur.

It was like a switch had been flipped, the open, friendly Jon was now stony and silent. Mercy, she’d never understand men. She wasn’t built for dealing with them unless there was a stethoscope and a chart in her hand.

Elena laid her head back. The car smelled overwhelmingly of cigarettes and his cologne. The thick, male spice clung to his sheets and now to her, imprinting itself on the memories she’d rather shut off. "How much longer?"

Kate blew out a sigh, the tension in the car was grating. "Just a few more minutes, Lains." She slid a quick, forced smile to Jon. And in the silence she watched Jon downshift and up-shift, his feet and hands working simply and elegantly with the controls of the car. Mercy. She did not need to be thinking of that. No way, no how.

"Yeah, just a few more minutes, Elena." He slowly let his fingers relax on the wheel. He knew she’d just been teasing about the hair comment, but fuck if he wasn’t tired of being thought of as just a model who sung. Glancing at his rear-view again he frowned. There was always an easiness to the girls that walked away from Richie. They left with a laugh, even if they knew they’d never see Richie again. The man knew how to charm a woman, but this? Kate pointed to Elena's car as they came around corner to the park and he put those thoughts away.

"Just over there, the red convertible." Kate pressed her hand against her belly, nerves and dread coating her insides. She knew where the nerves were coming from, about two feet to her right, but the dread...that was what she was worried about. Elena wasn't the type to go quiet over a man.

Jon glanced over to Kate. Well if that wasn’t a sweet ride. "Your car?" He pulled up beside the tiny mustang, his eyes appreciating the cherry red color.

"No, Elena's. She does like her toys," she said with a quick quip that would normally get Elena's mouth running, but when she sat back there, still so silent and wrapped up in her head, she sighed. "I appreciate the ride back, Jon. Really."

"Hey, It's my pleasure. Well…" his words trailed off. The woman had the no-fly zone tattooed on her forehead. "It was a pleasure to meet you. Hopefully, you'll give me your number, so we can keep in touch," he said impulsively.

She looked back at her best friend, practically curled into herself with her nose buried into her own shirt as if it were far colder than the temperatures warranted. "I don't think that's a good idea. We'll just leave it labeled one of those wild nights.”

He parked the car and opened his door, making it around to hers before she could get out. Leaning in he whispered softly, "Not such a good idea Kate, really," He leaned in closer, thinking fast. What the hell could he say that would keep her in his life? Something told him that he couldn’t let her get away completely. His life was complicated as hell, but if he never saw this woman again…never even had the option? "What if something occurs with her?” He nodded at Elena and thought back to the conversation from earlier. “You think maybe having a way to contact each other might help?"

She sighed and pushed at his shoulder. That warm, spicy clean scent swirled around her head, leaving her unable to think. "Quit crowding me, Sugar." When he backed up she climbed out and pulled him aside, "All right, just why would we need a follow up visit, so to speak?"

Jon winced. That wasn’t a good sign. Clearing his throat, he pushed on. "Well seems my friend kinda forgot something, more than once shall we say? Seems Teensy there had him going so good he forgot all the proper precautions.” As he watched realization light and the blush creep up her porcelain skin from neck to cheeks, the snakes in his belly eased. She was the even keeled one and playing to her rational mind would be the only thing to keep her close. For now. “I just figured,” he looked down at his shoes, then back up at her eyes, now filled with worry, “she’s not the type to play the field. If something happens, hell I’d wanna know.”

Her eyebrows beetled down. "She what?" she whispered furiously.

He never thought it possible to be so damned uncomfortable. "Fuck it Kate, it’s not like we’re ones to talk." His voice was the barest whisper as he caught the tiny brunette walking slowly to her car. "I couldn't, hell, Richie wouldn’t just let her go through that alone."

She fisted her hands in her hair. Two reasonably intelligent women and they got near these two and the simplest of precautions went flying out the window like they were airing out an old house. "Sweet Mercy," she whispered harshly. She dumped her purse on the hood of the car and dug inside for a notebook. "Okay, here's my numbers." Her fingers arced over the pad in a wide sweeping scrawl before ripping the page out. "The house," she held it out then back over her shoulder. "This is not for Richie," she said and narrowed her eyes. "And my number at St. Mary's if you really need to find me." She slowly put the slip on top of her book and held it out to him with the pen.

He glanced at the paper, Katherine Morrison. Sexy name, yet also very doctor-ish. He memorized the numbers then folded the paper, quickly sticking it into his wallet. "I won’t give it too Richie. If something happens, well, we'll cross that bridge later.” He scrawled his name, his real name at that, then his number in the block print he used for setlists. He’d grown so used to scrawling across the paper, it was hard to slow down. "Here, in case of emergencies, or even if...” He glanced at her, trying to read those lovely spring green eyes. But it was like she had her doctor mask on, there wasn’t even a hint of emotion in them. “We're out a lot, shows and well…life, but keep trying ok?" He tried to smile, and finally succeeded. "Just keep in touch."

"I'm flattered, really, Su-" she cut herself off. "Jon," she said clearly. If she'd learned nothing else today, she'd had that one thing beaten into her head and her heart...the smallest word could scar. "I wish I could say I'd call, but the only things I tend to do on a day off are sleep off my 36 hour shift." She closed the notebook and put it back in her bag. She looked over her shoulder again, catching sight of her best friend in the passenger seat and the anger flamed inside of her again. "I think it's best if we just part ways unless..." she trailed off, "well, unless there's a new reason to contact you.” Her eyes locked with his. She could see indecision and something she didn’t even want to contemplate swirling in his deep blue eyes. “Some things just aren't meant," she said firmly.

"Reasons come up every day, Katherine Morrison." Even if he’d fucked it up with riding Richie that morning. Both, Richie and Elena acting like maybe it had been more than just a one nighter. Taking a deep breath, he smiled. “Some things in life we just can’t control,” he added in response to her limits on fate.

Riding instinct Kate stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek quickly before grabbing the last of her stuff. "Have a nice life, Jon."

Chapter 29

Everything inside of him told him to go after her. To ease the pain, to make it better. It was what he did after all. He was the diplomat when the personalities started taking the downward spiral into diva-land. He was the one that mediated the fights in the group and kept Jon on an even keel when the world hammered at him. Easing was what he was best at.

His fingers fisted and he felt the flex of tendons and the ache of wanting her back in his arms already. He didn’t trust it…the wanting that was already eating at him. She was already capable of twisting his brain into an unsolvable Rubik's Cube, what could she do to him in a few months? She was the type of woman that would destroy him and no amount of blues would help him recover.

He couldn’t afford that on top of the tour.

She stopped and leaned against a tree and pulled her heels off and tossed them to the curb. Already, the harsh sidewalk matched her mood, uneven and rough to the touch. She wasn't going to look back, she’d bleed before he saw her tears. As she passed his building she yelled up for Kate. She kept walking, she just couldn’t stay still. Someday, maybe he’d grow up enough appreciate something more than the plastic dolls he was used to.


~


Kate breathed a quick sigh of relief. Could things be any more uncomfortable on a morning after? "Shit, that's Elena." She turned back to Jon and swallowed down a bit of bile with a good throat full of pride. She could thank him and not have the gates of hell open up. Right, of course she could. Training from the crib kicked in and she pasted her most southern smile on her face. "Thanks for calling the cab anyway. When she has her mad on, there's really nothing you can do but ride out the storm."

Jon arched a brow. "Her mad on? I think we moved well past that, babe. What the fuck happened to Teensy? She seemed so calm this morning then…” he trailed off and rubbed his neck. It wasn’t like she really hurt him. His brother, Anthony, inflicted a helluva lot more damage with just a headlock, but the pride factor left a lasting ghost of pain. “Look, how about I just get the keys and we forget about the cab. Maybe you can talk her into the car if we leave right now."

"I really appreciate the offer, but we should just—“ a stray pillow on the floor caught her eye, leading directly to the dented couch. Damn, even just the thought of what happened on the couch had her squirming. She wasn’t a prude, she’d had her fair share of one nighters over the years, but at least she remembered most, if not all of the encounter. She cleared her throat. "Look about last night..."

He watched her a moment, not knowing what to say at first. "Look, it was an awkward night, right? Richie and Teensy left us alone, we felt uncomfortable and we got drunk.” He wrapped his fingers around his thumb and popped his knuckle. “Things happened last night that we may never remember, but the only thing we can do is move on from it.”
Wary, she folded her arms over her belly, gripping the stretchy fabric that didn’t quite stay over her jeans. “Well, good thing we won’t see each other again, then.”

“To be honest here, Katy, I like your style.” When her eyebrow lifted into her mussed bangs he bit back a laugh. “Is it so crazy to think I’d like to remain friends? If that’s even possible considering...” he trailed off. He wasn’t sure why he’d said that. It wasn’t like she was local. When she opened her mouth to respond he just shook his head. “Let me drive you two to your car. It'll give my idiot friend time to calm down.” Deciding it was time for a little humor to break the thick awareness, he looked down at his feet, then up through his bangs. “I so don’t want to be around him if he’s anywhere near as mad as Teensy is."

The bubbling acid in her belly eased. The cocky attitude was gone and there was a guy standing in front of her that probably did the right thing most of the time. When his testosterone could be placed in another room. "I," she sighed. "All right. If we can leave Richie here, I think that would be alright." She re-crossed her arms under her chest. "I didn't see an um..." She cleared her throat. "A condom over there in our mess. Did you get rid of it?" she asked hopefully.

He winced, "Ahh no, I didn't." He flushed, "It’s not normally something I forget either.”

“Oh,” she closed her eyes. Great.

He lifted his chin. “I own up to my responsibilities—“

“Ohh, let me just stop you there.” She did some quick calculating and sighed in relief. Well no wonder she’d been tempted to do just about anything last night. “I think a rush of crazy…um, hormones are at fault for most of last night. I’m not in the danger zone.”

“Even if it was a factor, I would take care of,” he cleared his throat. The thought of a baby right now had his balls so shrunk in he thought they’d disappear, but he kept his eyes locked on hers. “Our baby.”

Kate knew she could trust her own calculations and it would be a million to one chance that she was pregnant, but the fact that he was so adamant about his responsibilities left her a little unsure of herself. "I appreciate that,” she reached out and gripped his arm. “You really won’t have to worry.”

Jon nodded. “A possible pregnancy wouldn’t be the only reason I want to see you again.”

She broke off the contact. That was one complication she just didn’t have the head for right now. “Life is a little crazy," she said vaguely. "But right now I need to worry about Elena. She's not built for the one night stand." Shut up, Kate. He didn't need to know about that and she doubted her friend would want the world to know she wasn't the party girl, especially after her reaction to Richie.

He accepted the tidbit of info with a smile. He was more than happy to change the subject if it meant spending a little more time with the pretty doctor. "Right, so off to rescue the friend. Just protect me from her ok?"

"That was your own fault. You tripped over your stupid ego and fell right into her lap," she said as she closed the door.

The girl didn’t pull punches. Enjoying a woman for the first time in a long time, he kept up the sparring. "Hell, I just called her Teensy. She’s all about the nicknames anyway. Not like I’m far off, she’s a tiny little thing.” He winked. "I like seeing her riled up though, she’s nearly as exciting as you are."

"Well, it’s kinda like you being called, Shorty."

"Low blow, Katy, real low." He laughed genuinely. "We can’t all be all be tall, like Richie." He glanced at his friend a moment before moving on to the car. "Let’s dash before he gets to the door."

"Hey Lains, why don't we get outta here, ok?” she waved her over. “Jon said he'd drive us back to the car.” When her friend heisted she took a step forward. “We can leave Richie here."

Elena stopped pacing, glanced at Kate then Jon, hoping they couldn’t see the tear tracks on her face, "Sure, just get me outta here." She opened the door, remembering last night when she’d been so excited to get into this same car. Stop it. She crawled into the backseat, doing everything in her power not to look back down the street.

Jon slipped into the driver’s seat, noting that Elena’s sad eyes were quick to avoid his. Jesus, maybe he’d been wrong about her. She was lacking the hard look of a woman who knew the score. Just what had Richie said to her?

Kate sighed and scooped up Elena’s boots. She’d caught the tears, but decided now wasn't the right time to ask about them, nor what had happened between the one time lovers. "Here babes," she handed the boots to her. "We'll get back to reality and put this behind us, okay?" She slipped into the bucket seat and flashed a grateful smile at Jon. "Let's get outta here."

Chapter 28

Elena stood there a moment while her thoughts scrambled to catch up with the new Richie. How could she have read him so wrong? He had been okay when they woke up, heck he couldn’t keep his hands off of her while they’d dressed. As soon as they’d come out into the living room things had gone terribly wrong.

In fact, they’d been ok until she went to check on Kate in the bathroom. Had Moptop said something to change Richie’s morning after attitude? Or had the reality of a new day blown the shiny newness away? She knew she’d probably never know, but for some reason she had the funniest feeling that Jon was at the helm of Richie’s sudden distance.

She thought they had connected on a level deeper than just sex. He’d just seemed to know all the right places to touch her and instinct had shown her just what he liked. They had laughed and played and even talked over so many things as the night went on. They’d ‘made love,’ quite a few times, although, maybe all it was in the end, was a good fuck. One that left her bruised and sore, and goodness she was sore, no doubt about it, but it was the kind of ache you wanted to experience all the time.

She couldn’t help the smile at the memory of falling from the bed, the sheets tumbling with her and Richie as they’d run out of space on that bed of his. The floor had been just as exciting, if not more so. God, they were so into each other they’d forgotten protection each and every time. A slight frown furrowed her brow as she contemplated the possibilities of having a small “gift” left behind by his boisterous lovemaking. Her hand even rubbed her tummy at the thought. Well, she’d just deal with that when the time came, IF it came.

Sighing, she stood and looked around the room, noting everything that made it pure Richie. From the foil on the windows to block the sun, to the frigid air blasting from the air conditioner, it seemed to have as much personality as the man himself. Funny thing that, she’d never even felt the cold that entire night, he was a damned heat source in and of himself. With a shake of her head she tucked the sheets in, then carefully laid the folded “Lennon” t-shirt on the pillows.

How could she have been so wrong about him? And how was she going to walk out into that kitchen and pretend his sudden distance was ok and that Kate hadn’t seen the bruising that his lovemaking had caused? Taking a deep breath she straightened her shoulders, fluffed her hair and forced a smile onto her face.

She’d only let them see the flirty party girl, not the sensitive girl that Richie had unleashed last night. He wanted to think she was like a groupie, then oh well too bad so sad, it was his loss right? Walking towards the door she never even noticed the tiny slip of lacy bra hanging off his bedside table, nor her driver’s license peeking from under a chair. Opening the door she reinforced her smile and sauntered back into the room, holding a cocky blue eyed Moptop’s stare for one long moment before sliding away to the soulful brown eyes that already haunted her.


~


Richie looked up and saw her back into her own clothes. He wasn't sure why that disappointed him so much, but it did. "Hey, Elena."
Her gaze traveled to his, "hmmm?"

"Everything okay?" He saw her smile, but for the first time it didn't seem to reach her pretty dark eyes.

Her head tilted, that fake smile plastered firmly upon her lips. "Any reason why it shouldn’t be ok, Richie?"

He stood up straight, "No, of course not." He smiled back but it felt forced. "Kate was rather adamant about getting you guys back to the car. If you're sure you need to leave."

"We can walk or call a cab, just like any other groupie, right? No need for you to put yourself out." She turned to Jon. "Use your phone, Moptop?"

Richie felt like a sledgehammer had been whaled into his solar plexus. Anger fisted inside of him until he wanted to lash out at her. It wasn't anything more than a one-nighter. Hell, he did it all the time. And he'd called a cab for a few of them too, goddamn it. Why the fuck did it matter? He cleared his face of any emotion. "No, I'll drive you to your car," he said cooly.

She turned to Richie, torment and anger flashing in her dark eyes. "I want to SEE you get me in a car I don’t wanna be in, big guy. I don’t go places with strangers." She turned to Jon slowly. "Either call me a cab, Jon, or I'm gonna walk."

Kate stepped forward. "C'mon sweets, we'll get a cab and get back home."

Jon glanced at Elena, uncertainty pulling at him. Where was that feisty smart mouth from last night? "Ummm."

"Would you just do it," Kate growled. "For once don't argue and just do it."

Elena sighed. "You call a cab, Kate. You wait on it if ya like. I’m outta here." She walked to the door, knowing if she didn’t get out she'd ask him where the hell the real Richie went too.

Jon shrugged and walked to the phone and lifted it, putting his finger out to dial. "Any cab?"

Richie wanted to follow her. He actually took a step forward before he stopped. Shit on that, he wasn't following her, dammit. When the door clicked shut Richie growled. "Shit, shit, shit," he turned to Jon. "Hang that up and keep her occupied," he thumbed at Kate.

She began to walk back the way she thought they'd driven the night before, fighting back the tears that threatened. Dammit she was hardly ever wrong about people, why'd she have to be wrong this time?

He blew out the door and left it open, running down the stairs. "Elena!" he called to her. When she didn't stop, just kept heading down the street in the wrong direction, he sighed and kicked it up to a jog. "Dammit, woman, stop."

She heard him yelling as she kept putting one foot in front of the other. Why the hell was he chasing her? Jesus, add insult to injury already. Closing her eyes she kept moving, praying she could out pace him.

"Are you deaf? I said hold up!" he said as he passed her and walked backward staring down at her. "Look, things got a little messed up. I don't want you to go away mad like this." He continued to back pedal, literally, he thought in disgust. "We had a great time together, why are we messing it up?"

She stopped suddenly and looked up. "I'm not the one who messed it up, I’m not the one who went all odd, Am I DARLIN’?"

He stopped, reaching out to touch her, but the anger flashing in her dark eyes made him cautious. The word darlin' all of a sudden was persona non grata. Fuck. It was just a word, it didn't mean anything. "Look, Elena...I like you a lot..." he began but stopped when her eyes went wide with an unholy anger.

"I’m sure you like all your little sex pit stops a lot. Gotta give yourself a reason to fuck so many strangers right Riiichhhieee?" She pushed back a stray lock of hair, her body nearly humming with anger. "To bad its warped you so bad you can’t figure out a real deal from the plastic you keep company with."

"You don't know me, so don't even begin to think you can imagine what my life is like." All he could hear was his heartbeat in his head like an echo. "Have you ever had a woman sneak into a room you were staying just so she could tell her friend she fucked a rock star? Have you ever had a woman paw at you even if you didn't want to be touched? Have you ever had a woman play cute and sweet because she thinks you have a shit-ton of money and will treat her like a princess? Have you ever had a woman tell you she loves you just so she can get out of her shitty life and cheat on you every single day that you aren't home?" His breathing was labored and he was horrified that all of that came out of him.

He cooled, reigning in the dark, tumbling anger that stirred in him so easily as a kid. He'd mastered it. He'd thought he'd mastered it anyway. "So don't tell me about sweet girls that maybe I should give a chance. I give lots of chances, but maybe I don't like being shit on, DARLIN'." He put his arms up and dragged his fingers through his hair.

She shook her head softly her voice gentling for a moment, "I feel so sorry for you Richie. I do, I can't imagine living in a world like that, having it warp you so much that when something genuine falls into your lap you’re so fucking afraid of it that you have to push it away. I can't imagine never knowing if I was loved for myself or my 'name’."

The tears that had been threatening for so long finally began to fall, only serving to bring back her anger. "But dammit I hoped you would have enough sense to see the difference between those girls and someone like me. But what did ya go and do, big guy?” She fisted her hands at her hips. “You lumped me into that group! What gives you that right? I didn’t even know who you were when I first met you. To me, you were just a cute guy I wanted to get to know. Why ruin that with your fame huh? Like I gave a shit about it!"

His eyes cooled and a nasty calm settled inside of him. "There’s lots of good actresses out there, Elena." Her words hit hard, but he didn't trust himself not to make another mistake. He'd been the patsy way too many times. "Just let me take you to your car and you can forget all about last night, huh?"

She gasped. Those words more of an insult than the darlin’ ever could have been. Turning on her heel she began to walk away, "I won’t forget last night, or the Richie I met. He was awesome. I won’t forget how he touched my soul. You on the other hand..." her words trailed off as she turned to walk again, her shoulders shaking as the tears truly began to flow.

Chapter 27

Kate felt the tension and a simmering undercurrent of something...It was hard to figure out what since she didn't know either of the guys from Adam, but something had happened while they were gone.

Richie looked over his shoulder, forcing an easy smile on his lips. "Hey girls, take a seat and breakfast will be right up," Richie said and forked bacon onto a few paper towels.

Elena peeked around Kate, taking in the eerie silence and Richie’s tense shoulders. Letting her fingers glide across the countertop she crowded in on Richie. Pressing her body tight against him, she reached across to the paper towel and snitched a piece of bacon. The heat of him rivaled the stove for goodness sake. "Smells pretty good there, Pony."

He closed his eyes and for the first time, he hated his instant reaction to her. Jon was right, it was only one night. He didn't even know the girl. Well, he knew that a flick of his fingertip at the back of her knee made her cum on the spot and that she craved close skin on skin sex, but beyond the naked he didn't know a damn thing about her. He needed to take a step back. Play it casual. "Everything's better with bacon," he said and bumped her hip with his.

Her brow arched as he bumped her. Even after just a few hours, she knew he liked to touch and stroke not…well, not bump her back. Lifting a hand to the silky hair that drove her wild, she tugged him down and whispered in his ear. "You ok?"

"Fine, darlin'," he grinned. "Just cookin' breakfast for all of us."

"Fibber," she said with a smile, but she let it go, settling herself at the table.

"Hey Teensy, let asswipe dish up the food before you two are at it again, I’m starved." Jon sat back with a smirk and before he knew it his chair was clattering to the floor and linoleum at his back her tiny foot hovering high on his throat.

"The name is Elena, Sport, try and remember that. And don’t speak to him that way, I don’t like it.” Removing her foot, she sat back down reaching for a plate, arranging it in front of her as if nothing had happened.

Kate smirked down at Jon, stepping over his trim little belly. A flash of her fingers lingering over that lean, fur covered belly unsnapping the button on those tattered jeans twisted her lips into a sneer of distaste. "I shoulda thought about doing that."

Surprised, and more than a little impressed Richie hauled Jon off the floor. "Okay?" he asked out of courtesy more than real interest.

"Eh, takes more than that to hurt me," Jon quipped as he shrugged Richie off.

"Oh, I bet I could try again.” Kate tucked her chin in her propped hands, elbows wide on the table. “I'm sure there's a way to keep you down for awhile."

Jon slid into the chair next to Kate, shifting his jeans so the semi-hard on didn’t knock on his zipper. He’d love her to keep him down, preferably on any surface available. "You did just fine last night Kate, but I’m always up for a repeat performance." He mirrored her propped elbows and waggled his eyebrows.

She sat up straight and grabbed the plates off the small island in the center of the kitchen. It was childish and stupid, but she didn't want to sit next to him, dammit. "It doesn't count when you don't remember.” Looking him dead in the eyes, she smirked. “Looks like you just weren't that memorable, Sugar." She hoped her voice sounded as cool and calm as she'd intended. She shuffled out the plates around the small table.

Jon clicked his teeth together with a snap, his blue eyes moving to Elena expecting some witty comeback only to receive nothing. He shrugged filling his plate with homefries, hoping the grease would settle the rest of the tequila sloshing in his belly. Richie's big breakfasts were always the best cure for a hangover.

Silence stretched as they all filled their plates. The only sounds were the click and screech of forks and knives over the chipped, mismatched dishes. Kate dragged potatoes she didn’t want through ketchup, she tried to remember anything about the night before. The only thing she could picture was his chest and a shot glass. If she never heard the clink of a quarter hitting the bottom of a shot glass, it would be too soon. Dammit! Why couldn't she remember?

Elena snuck a look to the man she’d spent the better part of the night screwing into a mattress and the floor or a time or two. They’d forgotten protection every time, which wasn't like her at all. She didn’t sleep around, but she wasn’t an angel either. She’d prided herself on being smart about protection and her future, but everything seemed different when he touched her.

She shook her head slightly as her thoughts zapped from one thought to the next. He’d been so different last night, but now…he was so distant. Maybe that’s what she’d been all along, another in a long line of conquests. She pushed her eggs around the plate, the urge to just leave growing by leaps and bounds as the silence seemed to fill the room.

Richie forced himself to stop cooking. Polish and Italian heritages collided in a cooking spree when he didn't know what to do with himself. He dropped the last bowl of fluffy eggs on the table as Jon scooped out a massive spoonful and shoveled it in. "What are you five? No one's going to take your food away."

Kate snorted and picked at her potatoes, adding a small scoop of eggs to push around.

"What? I’m hungry." Jon continued shoveling in the eggs grinning around the hangover cure. "I’m a growing boy."

"Too bad the eggs didn't help you grow taller," Richie quipped.

Jon flicked his middle finger up. "Fuck you," he said, filling his fork again.

Elena risked another glance at Richie and suddenly the food went from mouth watering to sawdust. With a softly uttered, "excuse me," she stood. "I need to get dressed."

"Hell," Richie stood, his food forgotten.

Kate gripped his forearm, a little startled to feel such iron hard muscles beneath her fingertips. "Let me go take care of it. I think it's time for a little girl talk," she said with a quick wink. As she walked by Jon she snarled, "go on, talk amongst yourselves about how amazing we were last night." Not waiting for a reply, she followed Elena into the dark room. "Hey sweets, you okay?" She asked, hesitantly pushing open the door.


She looked up at Kate, seated Indian style with a pillow in her arms. "Huh? Yeah Kate, I'm peachy keen here. Why?"

"I don't believe you, Lain. I know you too well."

Elena stood and dumped the pillow back on the bed. Shrugging out of the Lennon shirt, she stared down at the ransacked bed. "So you were right, they're all a disappointment.” Folding it neatly, she left it on the untouched bottom corner of the dark sheets. “No biggie, girl." Gathering her scattered clothes, she stepped into her jeans. "So, he was a total sweetie last night and a total dick this morning. Shouldn’t have expected any less from a rock star right?"

Kate stopped her mid slide as her jeans went over her hips. "Whoa, what the hell did he do to you last night?" Faint bruises in an angry blue-green marred her lower back. The pattern suggested a...She looked up. "Did he hurt you?"

Elena shook her head, "Not in the way you mean,” she blushed. “It hurt so good, girl friend. He's um, built shall we say?"

A single eyebrow raise was her answer.

She zipped and snapped her jeans with a wince. Each bump and bruise held a memory, reminding her that she’d never been touched quite like the way Richie’d touched her. Easing onto his bed, she slid first one boot on, then the other. "WHAT?" She looked up at Kate. “We both had an eventful night, so what?”

Kate motioned to the sheet half off and half under the bed. "Having regrets?" She asked, sitting gingerly on the edge of the bed. God knew what was going to bite her. "You understand that this was a one night stand. How else was it supposed to end, sweets?"

"Just like it did, sister girl. Just like it did." Elena stood, a rueful smile on her face. "Can't shoot a girl for hoping someone like that was a bit different though.” She shrugged. “I thought there was a connection that might have made it to a second date." She laughed at herself. So much for a special night. “Go on back out. I need a second to get up courage to walk out of this apartment without a backward glance, okay?"

Kate stood with a sigh. Her friend hid her soft heart under her party girl persona. Sooner or later a guy was going to look a little deeper and realize just what they had. "Are you sure?"

Elena lifted her head and tried to smile, but knew from Kate’s frown that she hadn’t even come close. "Yep, totally sure, hon."

Kate nodded and tucked a lock of her brown hair behind Elena’s ear. "He's an ass if he didn't see it after one night anyway."

Elena smiled weakly, and stepped back. Bending to pick up the sheet, she snapped it out until the worn cotton covered up what they’d done on that big, squeaky bed. Yep, ass about covered it.

Kate shut the door behind her with a soft click. The two of them sat at the table arguing over something that had to do with football. And normally she would have jumped right in on stats and plays, but right now all she wanted to do was smash their foreheads together.

Just because she knew exactly what part of each skull could do the most damage to the other meant nothing. Nope, not a single thing at all. She quietly walked up behind Richie and dug her fingertips into a tendon at the fleshy part where shoulder met neck. "If you screw with her head about this little one nighter, darlin’, I will find a way to knock you out and lop off your balls with my sharpest scalpel. And believe me when I say, I won't think twice about doing it."

Richie felt an instant of intense and mind altering pain as a voice like southern heat threatened his boys in a calm and efficient way. When she let go, he stood up and rolled his shoulder as he rounded on her ready to do a little damage of his own. The anger melted away when he saw the rage glittering in her spring green eyes.

His gaze shifted to his bedroom door and images from the night before nagged at him. Elena’s smile, his laughter, the way her tiny body enveloped his larger one. The weakness alone and the strength of them together that made him think of something other than his guitar and the road that beckoned him for the first time.

Jon watched her nearly vibrate with her mad on. She was half Richie’s size and hadn’t thought twice about taking him out. Damn she was formidable, and fuck if that wasn't sexier than hell. He hated that he couldn't remember the night before because he bet it would have been something that rocked his world. "Looks like your boys are in danger there Richie. I'd be careful if I was you."

"Your balls have less meaning to me than his, believe me." She gathered her things and sat on the edge of the couch with her eyes bouncing from the front door to Richie’s bedroom door.

Jon bit his lip and the retort that bubbled there. Yep she was a force to be reckoned with. So how was he going deal with her and her penchant for scalpels?