Chasing the Music: For the Love of Music Book 0.5 (22 page)

And then his heart stopped when her voice, clear and strong started the song he’d written.

“…
thought it would hit like a thundercloud…like rain falling down and down…but love….is better...this way
…”

Breathless and throaty and so damn sexy it made his knees weak. This was exactly what he’d written the song for.

The massive stadium was silent until she finished and the eruption shook Griffin to his core. Or maybe it was her. Or maybe it was both.

“I’m shit at apologies, so I’m hoping that’s a step in the right direction with someone who is the best kind of friend.” Her hands shook as she lifted her guitar back up, and she stumbled.

Both Griffin and her father jumped a half step before stopping. Griffin’s heart sped at the thought of the song, her apology, what all of those things might mean. Her stumble. Her weakness.

Lita wiped her forehead and hit the first chord of
Down to You
, once again quaking the room with the noise of applause.

Griffin’s hands shook. His body ached for something more. Anything. A look. A touch. Just to talk to her. There were at least three more songs in her set, more if she was feeling generous, or maybe singing his song was generosity enough for one night.

The second she hit the last word of her song she raised her hands. “Thank you so much! You’ve been great!”

What?

“This is early,” Griffin said. “She’s not done.”

William moved toward the stage and Lita blinked over and over as she walked toward them, looking almost as if she were walking blind.

Something wasn’t right. Griffin felt it in every part of him, and in that second his heart cracked, and he knew he couldn’t walk away. Couldn’t leave her alone.

Her eyes met his a second before her lids fluttered and she stumbled into her father’s arms.

Shouts came from every direction and Griffin rushed the few steps toward her father.

“Back off everyone!” he shouted as Griffin ran to his side, and they slowly lowered Lita’s limp body to the ground. “I’m a doctor. Call an ambulance.”

“She hasn’t been eating well. She’s been over-stressed. You’ll have to talk to Bridget, but I haven’t been around Lita for a while,” Griffin said.

Dave was on the phone with 911.

Her father nodded as he held his hand to her neck, checking her pulse. “Thank you.”

“I’m Griffin.”

“Take my keys. Meet us at the hospital.”

William shoved keys into Griffin’s hand and a second later Griffin was being pulled away.

He gasped for air and leaned against the wall as the paramedics rushed in.

Lita’s eyelids fluttered again and Griffin allowed himself to relax.

She was being wheeled out before he could catch his breath.

Once Lita was gone, Ryker appeared next to him.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

Griffin dangled the keys. “I know, leave her alone, but her dad gave me these and asked if I’d bring his car to the hospital.”

“I’m coming with you.”

Griffin jerked his arm from Ryker and ran for the door.

“How the hell are we going to know which car is his?” Ryker yelled in the dark.

Griffin grabbed the key and hit the lock button, making a distant chirp. He was so glad her dad had parked in the back; in the front, they’d be fighting the crowds.

He hit the button again, and then again and then he saw the yellow lights blink. He and Ryker slid to a stop in front of a two door Bentley.

“Holy shit.” Ryker laughed. “He gave you the keys to this thing?”

Griffin hit the lock button again, and the lights flashed. “It would appear he did.”

Both guys walked slowly toward the vehicle and the second he opened the door, the smell of rich leather hit Griffin’s nose. “Holy shit,” he breathed. “This is so not a good idea.”

Ryker cackled. “When are you ever going to be behind the wheel of a two hundred thousand dollar car that smells like buttery-soft leather?”

“Never.”

“He gave you the keys, and besides, I’m sure his insurance is fantastic.” Ryker wagged his brows.

Right.

Griffin slipped into the soft leather, feeling dirtier than he ever had in his worn, black jeans and t-shirt.

The engine purred and the horror of watching Lita being wheeled away slipped from his mind, but just a little.

Who was this girl and how did she grow up?

Twenty-seven

Lita wanted to protest the stretcher and the oxygen mask over her mouth and the ambulance ride, but with her father’s hand clutching hers, she let everything else fade away.

His voice was steady and calm asking the EMTs for information.

Wait.

Had she made it off stage before passing out?

Where was Griffin?

Probably freaking out. Maybe freaking out. Was she okay?

Hospital lights flickered above her as she was wheeled through the ER.

“I’m fine,” she whispered, but the sound of her voice was muffled by the mask on her face. “I’m fine,” she said louder.

Her bed stopped and she pushed herself up with her elbows, but a hand on her chest held her down. Lita’s arm flashed out, shoving it away.

“Lita.” Her father’s voice was quiet, but stern. The perfect doctor’s voice. “We’re going to start an IV, and get some fluids in you. We need to get your electrolytes back on track, then we can go, okay?”

“I don’t…” She blinked and she was crying. Again. None of this was like her. “Please, I just want to leave.”

Her father’s hand squeezed more tightly around hers and she felt a prick in her arm. Lita winced but her dad’s voice brought her back to the present. “You’re fine. You’ll be fine. You’re going to feel better soon. Relax.”

At his words, her body did relax. Her father might not have been around as much as she wanted, but he wouldn’t lie.

Her mind went from the relaxation in knowing she’d feel better, to wondering what the backlash would be for her exhaustion.

She’d already put herself in a position to be talked about in the news. You don’t stumble off stage early without people noticing. Lita let her eyes close and tried to find strength she wasn’t sure she had.

Pacing the hospital hadn’t made Griffin feel better. Riding back to his hotel in a cab after not seeing Lita didn’t make him feel better. Hearing that Lita was back at her hotel the following morning also hadn’t made him feel better.

Begging for one cigarette made him feel better until it was finished, and he refused to give in and have another.

He was being torn apart from the inside out over a girl who wasn’t talking to him—one who everyone had said he shouldn’t fall for.

One who he’d already fallen for.

Lita’s father sat on the side of her hotel bed. “Your body is fragile now because you made it that way. Do you understand?”

She nodded. “I know. I don’t… I’m not sure what was different this time.”

“You’ve called.” He scratched his head. “I’m sorry I haven’t been as diligent as I could be in calling back.”

“You’re busy.” She gave him the excuse he’d always given her.

“You’re my daughter. I’m proud of you, and I think…” He pulled in a long breath. “I think without realizing it, I was distancing myself from you. From the life that feels so much like your mother’s. That hasn’t been fair to you. I’m sorry.”

Lita’s throat tightened and heat pricked at the back of her eyes. “It’s okay, Dad.”

He shook his head. “No. It’s not.”

“Love you.”

He squeezed her hand. “I love you too.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes. “I’m going to finish the tour.”

“I know.”

“And then I’ll get some kind of help. I promise.”

He squeezed her knee through the blankets. “That’s my good girl. And I know my words won’t mean anything until I follow through. I wanna get to know you again as the person you’re becoming as you grow up.”

She just nodded, the lump in her throat too big to answer.
One part of Lita’s world had just been righted.

Florida was being skipped because the tour was behind schedule. It meant the crew had a shorter distance to Washington D.C. and the final few stops after that. Griffin wasn’t sure if he was thrilled that he was still close to Lita, or furious that she was continuing on when she was so clearly over-worked, over-tired, and over-stressed. The bus moved up the highway, and all he could think about was her. How she felt. What she was doing. If she still had his shirt. Wore it. Thought about him. After she played his song, and played it so perfectly, he wanted to talk to her. Ask her where they stood.

Instead he stared at his phone, willing a message from her to come. Wishing he didn’t feel awkward about sending her a note.

Griffin’s fingers hovered over his phone before he finally gave in.

How are you?

And then he held his breath waiting for her answer.

And waiting.

And waiting.

And Ryker kicked his foot with a ridiculous smirk.

Griffin flipped him off.

And he waited.

Better. We’ll talk soon. I have a few things to sort out on my own. Maybe you do too?

He did too? Like what?

“Like, what, what?” Ryker asked.

He continued to stare at the screen. “Lita thinks I have things to sort out.”

“Maybe she’s smart enough to not want a chump on the rebound.”

“I’m not—” But he’d just broken up with his only girlfriend days ago. It just felt longer because even though he loved her, Ryker had been right, he hadn’t been in love with Stacy for a long time.

Ryker laughed. “You are such a sap, Griff. Chicks dig that shit.”

Griffin pushed his hands through his hair. “I’m not looking for…” But the truth of it was that if Lita wanted to jump into something more than friends, he’d leap. “I’d just like to be talking to her again. That’s all.”

Ryker stared at him for a minute. “I love you, man. But I think you’re crazy.”

Griffin slid lower in his seat. “Noted.”

“And as much as I think Lita can be insane, I also think that I have to admit she might be good for you because there’s no way she’d let you go home.” And then Ryker stared at his phone, his fingers tapping away. “But I still stand by what I said when I said she was crazy.”

“Also noted.” Griffin watched his brother for a moment longer. That was about as much approval as he’d get from him.

But it was a moot point because the chances of Lita wanting any say in what Griffin did after the tour didn’t seem all that great.

Lita’s head rested on the back of the small couch as the bus drove up the highway. The drone of the bus engines were so familiar, she barely heard them anymore. Dave prattled on the phone. Apelu napped, his massive headphones ramming some kind of horrid music into his ears, Bridget typed on her iPad, and it all felt so monotonous and normal.

“You okay?” Bridget asked.

Lita sat up, and Bridget flashed her an odd look.

“I’m fine. Yeah. Okay,” Lita said, still watching her friend.

Bridget’s gaze rested on her for a few more moments before she went back to the game on her iPad.

Lita snuggled deeper into Griffin’s shirt, shifted away from Bridget, and unfolded the letter he’d given her. Maybe he knew her well enough to know she’d delete messages from her phone. Maybe he was really this old school—either way, she wanted to find out.

Lita  -

I never expected to feel torn. Ever. And torn is a stupid word because I feel shredded right now. One of the first things I told you about myself was that I was on tour because I hoped I’d fall back in love with my girlfriend. And while I love Stacy, I haven’t been in love with her for a long time. Our split was mutual.

I’m pissed you ruined my song. Furious. At the same time, I still feel like maybe you and I have some kind of future as friends. Maybe something more. Maybe you’re done with the southern guy and can’t wait for the tour to end so you can drop me off. There are just a few things I’d like to tell you first.

There are times when I look at you and see nothing but the famous Lita James, and there are other times when you’re you. Those two people are so much closer than you think they are. You have so much strength. I cannot imagine living the insanity of your life and still being someone I’d be friends with. I miss hanging out with you. I hope we can talk. But more than anything, I hope you see the amazing person you are. Because you are. Amazing.

Griffin

Lita let the letter rest on her lap, her heart aching at missing him, and she watched Bridget for a moment more.