Nick Of Time (Blue Ridge Romance 2) (19 page)

He had a key from when he’d lived there but decided he’d better knock instead of barging in.

In a perfect world, he would have had to beg her to open the door so he could apologize for not telling her about finding Lydia in his bed. But he didn’t live in a perfect world, and it seemed like she really wasn’t there.

He used his key only to find it didn’t work. Bending down, he noticed a new doorknob. She’d had the locks changed? This was serious.

Her car was gone. Would she come home to find him sitting out front and just leave again? What if she was in there but had parked somewhere else?

He needed to get in the house so he’d at least have a chance to explain before she threw him out. It was his only shot.

He went around the back of the building, knowing the sliding patio door was the weakest link.

He knocked and yelled her name, then cupped his hands at the glass so he could see into the kitchen. No lights.

After testing the door handle and finding it locked, he shook it a little before pulling out a credit card. He tried wedging it in the lock the way he’d seen people do on television but like most things, it didn’t work as easily as it did on TV.

He got frustrated and pounded his palm on the glass before taking a deep breath and trying again.

Desperation had him looking around her backyard for a large rock so he could break the glass. He would pay for it to be repaired; he just needed to get in the house. He’d found a garden gnome on the patio next door and was getting into position to bash the little guy’s pointed hat into the glass when two police officers walked up and told him to put his hands in the air.

The gnome fell from his grasp, landing on Tucker’s foot.

“This can’t be happening,” he said as they cuffed him and led him to the police car.

 

Tucker leaned his head against the bars, wondering how his life had got so messed up in just twenty-four hours.

He’d tried explaining to the officers that he used to live in the town house, but his New York driver’s license said otherwise.

His brother left him hanging for almost three hours before he showed up to bail him out. He took it as a sign that Cooper wasn’t going to be very happy to see him.

“If I get the homeowner to sign off that she knows him, will the charges be dropped against my client?” Cooper asked the officer, who nodded.

“Do you know where she is?” Tucker asked Cooper, who was all business while signing the documents for his release. “I really need to speak with her.”

One of the officers looked at him and then looked at Cooper.

“He’s no danger. He’s too much of an idiot to cause any real harm,” Cooper assured the policeman.

A few minutes later, they were walking out into the dark.

“When did she get security at the town house?” Tucker asked.

“After you left.” That made sense. He hated that he’d left her alone and that she was scared without him.

“Thanks, Cooper. I really appr—”

“Just shut up, Tucker. I don’t want to hear it. I’ve been bailing you out of trouble all your life, but you’ve gone too far this time. She’s my best friend. She’s been through hell, and she never really had anyone to treat her well, and now you do this? I know she seems tough, but she’s not.”

“I know that. I never wanted to hurt her, Cooper. I love her. Really.” He added the
really
after Cooper gave him a doubtful snort. “Nothing happened with me and Lydia.”

“Nothing happened,” Cooper said flatly while he looked at Tucker across the roof of the car. “How many times have I heard you say that?”

“It wasn’t my fault,” he said.

“Right. About as many times as you’ve said that.”

“Damn it! This is so frustrating.”

For a moment he wasn’t sure if Cooper was going to let him in the car, but eventually he unlocked it.

“I assume you have a rental car at Nichole’s?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll take you there so you can pick it up and go back to the airport.”

“No. I need to see her. I have to tell her it was a misunderstanding.”

“So you’re going to sit there and tell me Lydia St. James wasn’t naked in your bed?” Cooper said.

“Okay, that part did happen.”

“For Christ’s sake, Tucker!”

“I’m trying to tell you. She was in my bed when I came out of the shower. I asked her to leave. Mitch came in and saw her there. He heard me tell her to go and he watched her leave. He can vouch for me.”

“Your agent, who is employed by you, will vouch for your integrity?” he said, making his stupid point.

“Do you know where she is?” Tucker asked.

“Yes.”

“Will you take me to her?”

“No.”

“Will you tell me where she is?”

“No.”

“Can I stay at your place until she comes home?”

“No.”

“Come on, Cooper. I’m dying here,” he begged.

“
You’re
dying? You’re not the one who had to listen to Nichole tell the story while trying not to break down in tears.”

Tucker sat there frozen in place. He’d really hurt her. He hadn’t done anything wrong, but it didn’t matter. He’d caused her pain.

He didn’t say anything else as Cooper drove him back to his car. No one believed him. Even Mitch had his doubts about what had happened before he’d shown up. It looked bad. Really bad.

He got out of the car as if his legs were made of wood.

“Tucker, I don’t know what to say. You’ve messed up before, and I’ve always had your back. I really thought you had things figured out this time. I thought maybe you realized what was important in life. But hurting Nic like this . . . she doesn’t deserve it.”

Tucker could only nod and walk back to his car. He was reminded of the story from elementary school about the boy who cried wolf. He felt like that boy, only instead of lying about a wolf, he had cheated and slept around. His past reputation made it impossible for anyone to believe his innocence now.

He was left alone to face the wolf.

 

Nichole felt even worse the next morning.

In addition to the broken heart, she now had a hangover. She’d spent many hours on her laptop, searching the vast database for pictures of Tucker. There were a lot.

Some of them made her miss his smile. Some of them made her wish she could run her fingers over his muscles. Some—the ones with him and Lydia—made her want to find him and remove certain pieces of his anatomy.

When her headache subsided, she went for a hike and sat by the lake where Cooper and Roslyn had gotten married.

She threw stones into the water and watched the ripples spread out across the surface.

She wondered what she’d done that made her deserve all these bad things happening to her. Granted, she was healthy and had a good job, but emotionally she had always been a wreck.

Her father, the parent who actually cared about her, had died when she was little, leaving her with her emotionally vacant mother. Then she’d gone through one bad relationship after another until finally there was Dennis.

Dennis, who promised to love her forever, but was repulsed by the idea of having sex with her because he was gay.

Then Tucker. He’d wormed his way into her heart further than anyone ever before. Then he’d blown it to smithereens.

She knew she would get through this. She was strong. She’d made it through so much already, but for some reason she didn’t think she would ever want anyone the way she’d wanted Tucker.

She hadn’t listened to any of the messages he’d left her or read any of the e-mails. She simply deleted them, wanting to move on quickly. But she found herself missing him, wanting his arms around her to make her feel better.

When her pity party down by the lake was over, she went into town and walked around, buying some local art and listening to music on the street.

 

Somehow Tucker made it back to California in time for the next concert.

Lydia smiled at him, probably having heard he and Nic had broken up.

“Don’t” was all he said to her. She pouted and went out on stage to do her show while he waited to get it over with.

He’d called Nichole a few more times, begging her to let him explain. He told her he loved her and would do anything to get her back. It was all true.

When the band started playing Nichole’s song, he was lost in the memory of being with her in the cabin. The way they’d laughed together. How he’d taught her to play a few chords, and the way she’d beamed proudly when she’d strung them together.

“What am I going to do?” he asked no one.

Yet someone answered.

“You’re on. Go out on the stage and sing,” the stagehand said, pointing.

“Right.”

Tucker moved across the stage and everyone cheered. Sure, they were having a great time. He looked down at couples with their arms around each other.

“Hey—” He stopped when he realized he didn’t remember what city he was in.

“San Francisco!” Lydia covered for him. The crowd didn’t seem to notice. They were too busy screaming.

He sang the song, as he had many times. Lydia seemed to know better than to rub up against him. She kept her distance, only moving in to the mic when it was her turn to sing.

They sang their second duet, and then he took over. He was pretty much on autopilot. He sang and strummed and said the appropriate things about how San Francisco was the most wonderful city in the world.

Eventually he was done.

He went backstage and was mobbed by a crowd of women, all wearing lanyards and laminated squares sporting his photo. He signed pictures and books and body parts with a smile pasted on his face.

After an hour, Mitch came to spring him. His agent stayed to handle the crowd while Tucker wandered out back toward his bus. He heard music playing from Lydia’s bus. Most of her band and his were hanging out.

“You okay?” John, his drummer, asked.

“No, man. I’m not.”

“I heard you’re having trouble with your girl.”

“Yeah. Something like that.”

“The road is hard.”

“That it is,” Tucker agreed.

He walked closer, not wanting to be with Lydia but not wanting to be alone. She was dancing with three guys, so she was otherwise occupied.

“Hey, Tucker!” Gary, the bassist, called from inside. “Come in and relax for a little while.”

The bus was full of smoke as he went up the two steps, feeling much older than his twenty-seven years. Gary moved over on the sofa to make room for him.

“Good show tonight.”

“Was it?” Tucker asked.

“It didn’t suck.”

“I guess not. I felt like a robot out there tonight.” He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed.

“You want a drink?” Gary asked, holding out a soda.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

As Tucker opened the can, he noticed the black bottle of whiskey sitting on the table next to him. It was more than half-full. He took a sip of the soda and frowned as the stupid bubbles slid down his throat.

An hour later, he was still sitting there, listening to music and the people talking around him. He felt like nothing.

Another glance at the whiskey beside him. No one had touched it. It still contained enough of its contents to make reality fade away.

“Fuck it,” he said quietly as he swiped it off the table and twisted off the cap. Even before he got it to his lips, he could smell the smoky liquid that promised to help him feel better.

His stomach lurched at the wrongness of the situation, but he swallowed back another gulp, forcing his body into compliance.

His brain threw him memories of detox and rehab, trying to make him stop, but his heart was broken and the amber liquid in that bottle was the only thing that could fix it.

“Whoa, Tucker. Are you sure you want to do that?” Gary made a move to reach for the bottle after Tucker’s fourth gulp.

“Mind your own goddamned business,” he snarled, causing Gary to back off with a look of pity on his face. It made Tucker want to punch him right in his concerned expression. He didn’t need anyone to feel bad for him.

He would be fine.

He took another swig, and Lydia cheered for him.

“All right!” she hollered in excitement. “Tucker’s finally come out for some fun!”

Tucker wasn’t so sure he was looking for fun as much as a way to ignore the fact that his dream had come true and he was still unfulfilled.

He took another slug of whiskey, followed by another, and then, slowly, he stopped caring about anything.

 

When Tucker woke, he was moving.

He blinked a few times and saw an empty whiskey bottle come into focus in front of him. Both he and the bottle were lying on the floor in Lydia’s bus. He could hear the hum of the tires and feel the vibration of travel under his body.

Then he saw feet.

Tiny feet with the toes painted red.

“How are you feeling, cowboy?” Lydia asked with a giggle.

“I feel like shit. My head is killing me.”

“Here.” She bent down to hand him two pills and another bottle of whiskey to wash them down. He paused for a moment and then threw them back with a large swig of whiskey.

The burn in his throat made him wince.

He knew he’d messed up. It was too late to call Carmine and talk it out. His sponsor would be so disappointed.

He kept the bottle and stayed there on the floor for a very, very long time.

“H
ow are you feeling today?” Roslyn asked Nichole when they met for lunch.

“You’re the pregnant one. I should be asking you that question.”

“I’m great. And I didn’t have my heart broken, so you get all the attention today.”

“Well, I cried myself into dehydration up at the cabin last weekend. This week I’ve made sure I’m too busy to notice the crying didn’t really help.” Nichole was grateful to her friends who checked in on her, but she knew talking wasn’t helping any more than the crying had.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s weird that I miss him because I haven’t seen him or talked to him in so long. I guess it mattered that he was still mine. Now he isn’t.”

“Cooper said he hasn’t talked to him since he dropped Tucker off at the airport last weekend.”

“I haven’t gotten any calls since Tuesday.” She was both relieved and sad when he stopped calling. Knowing she was all over the place emotionally made her angry instead. “He and Lydia are probably on their honeymoon,” she added bitterly.

“He told Cooper nothing happened between him and Lydia.”

“Yes. And my ex-fiancé told me he thought I was sexy, but I’m not a dude, so obviously that wasn’t true. Men lie.”

“Not all of them.”

“I assume you’re speaking of your husband? The man who told me I looked great with bangs. Guess what? A lie!”

Roslyn chuckled and then dropped the subject.

“You know, Lex mentioned setting you up with one of Ian’s friends. His name’s Dalton. Maybe you’d be interested. Except he travels a lot.” Nichole needed only to give Roslyn a look before she backtracked. “Right. Well, the right guy will come along.”

“Sure. Any day now. Let’s see, I’ve had someone who didn’t like women and someone who liked them too much. If I were Goldilocks, it would be time for the bears to come home and eat me.”

“I don’t think that’s how the story goes exactly.”

“It does in my world.”

“It will get better,” Roz promised. “I’ve been where you are. I’ve felt this bad. Trust me; anything could happen.”

Nichole didn’t know how much more she could take.

Over the next couple of weeks, she focused on work. But when she was alone at night, she would pull up stories about Tucker on gossip sites. It was like picking at a scab. She knew she’d never heal this way, but she just couldn’t help herself.

The story broke on a Thursday.

“It’s official! Tucker Matthews and Lydia St. James are together,” the headline read. There was of course a photo, too. Tucker had his arm hanging around her shoulder as they walked toward his tour bus. He was wearing sunglasses and had his hood pulled up over his messy hair.

“God. He looks awful,” she said to no one as she blew up the photo so she could see it better. She was aware of how pathetic that was, but again, she couldn’t help herself.

He wasn’t smiling, he just looked . . . empty.

Without thinking, she picked up her phone and called Cooper.

“I’m sending you a photo. What do you think?” she asked.

“I think I’m getting ready to sit down to dinner with my wife.”

“Sorry. Can you please look? I’m worried about Tucker.”

With a big sigh, she heard him kiss Roslyn and tell her he’d be back in a minute. Then she heard the sound of him walking.

A few seconds later, she heard another sigh.

“He looks bad, doesn’t he? And not just because he’s hanging on that witch,” Nichole said, rubbing her forehead.

“It kind of looks like he’s hanging on her literally. Like he’d fall down if she didn’t hold him up.”

“You don’t think . . . ?” She couldn’t say it out loud.

“I don’t know. He hasn’t called me. We had a fight. I told him what I thought. I didn’t hold anything back this time. He’s not your responsibility anymore. He’s not mine either. He needs to learn to take care of himself.”

While Nichole had been a huge proponent of tough love for Tucker in the past, she found herself on the opposite side from Cooper in this situation.

“I’m worried about him, Coop.”

There was another long sigh, and she knew he would help.

“Fine. I’ll give Mitch a call, just to check in. But I’m not getting sucked into his mess again. Roz and I are having a baby. I have my own family to worry about. I’ve given him so many chances.”

“I know. I really appreciate this.”

“I’m doing this for you,” he confirmed.

“So noted.”

“I might not hear back until tomorrow.”

“Okay. I’ll be patient.”

“Really? When did you learn how to do that?”

“I didn’t. I’m just planning to pace at home and not tell you.”

“Right.”

Fortunately, Cooper called back that night at eleven.

“You were right. He’s not doing well,” he said.

“This is all my fault.”

“No, it isn’t. Though I do think we might have assumed the worst about him being with Lydia.”

“What do you mean?”

“I talked with Mitch, and he’s convinced nothing happened between them. He said he called you and left a message explaining everything.”

“I deleted all his messages without listening to them. I figured they were just excuses or lies.” Looking back, that might have been a bit stupid and juvenile, but that was where she’d been at the time.

“I really think we made a mistake about this.”

“What about now?”

“Mitch is saying there’s no way they’re together. I don’t think he’s covering for Tucker. He seems concerned.”

“This is all my fault,” she repeated, the words even more true in light of this information.

“You didn’t put the bottle in his hands, Nic. You can’t blame yourself for how he reacted. And neither of us would have jumped to this conclusion if he hadn’t done things like this in the past.”

“I have to go to him. I have to help.”

“They got into New York tonight. He’ll most likely stay at his loft.”

“I have to go.”

“I tried calling him, but he didn’t answer. So tell him I need to talk to him when you see him.”

“Okay.”

“Have a safe trip.”

She was already rushing to her room to start packing as she ended the call. Her mind was creating checklists as she threw things in her bag.

The earliest flight she could get was out of Richmond at five the next morning. She would drive the three hours tonight to make sure she was there on time.

She called Tucker when she finished packing.

“It’s me. I’m heading up there to see you. I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you before I broke it off. I should have given you the benefit of the doubt. I should have trusted you, like I promised I would. I’m sorry. We’ll get everything worked out when I get there. I love you, Tucker. I’ll see you soon. Call me when you get this. If you get this.” She realized he could have a new number by now.

The entire trip was a blur. Her only thoughts were of Tucker and how she needed to get to him as soon as possible so she could help.

She got to his building at ten the next morning. She held the button for the buzzer, hoping she could wake him up.

“Come on,” she said to herself as she pressed it a third time.

She was interrupted by her phone.

“Tucker?” she said, seeing his name on the screen.

“No, sorry. It’s Mitch. Are you in New York?” he asked.

“Yes. I’m at his apartment, but he’s not answering.”

“You need to come to Bellevue.”

Her blood turned to ice when she registered the name of the hospital.

“What happened?”

“He overdosed early this morning. I’ll know more by the time you get here.”

“Oh, God.” She walked right out onto the street and hailed a cab. “I’m on my way.”

 

Mitch was waiting when she got there.

“He’s stable. We think Lydia gave him prescription painkillers.”

“
Damn
her.” Nichole wished Lydia was there so she could funnel all her anger and worry into pummeling the stupid girl who had not only tried to take Tucker away from her but could have killed him, too. Guilt soon flooded in, and she knew it wasn’t all on Lydia. “I’m sorry. This wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t just bailed on him like I did.”

She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to confess to Mitch, but he was there and she needed to get it out.

“I’m the one who messed this up,” he said with a shake of his head. “I thought you knew the story, but then he told me he hadn’t told you, and you assumed . . . Look, for what it’s worth, you have it wrong. Yes, I walked in and found Lydia naked in his bed and Tucker was only wearing a towel. But he was telling her to get out when I got there. He asked me to try to keep her away from him because he knew she was trouble.

“I was sure he was telling the truth about not sleeping with her when he wanted to call you to tell you what happened right away. He was worried you would find out and think the wrong thing. And then that’s exactly what happened.”

“Are they together now?” She needed to know so she didn’t get her hopes up.

“No. They’ve been hanging out, but he’s passed out most of the time when he’s not on stage. I don’t think it’s even possible for anything to happen between them like that.”

“How can you know that?” she asked.

“Because his guys say she’s been complaining he’s too stoned to get it up.”

“Okay,” she whispered, rubbing her forehead. She knew how it sounded. She knew she wasn’t the only person who would have jumped to the conclusion they were sleeping together. But for some reason, Mitch’s words made sense. She found herself wanting to believe in Tucker. She needed to.

After a short elevator ride, they walked down a hall and were stopped by a nurse.

“Sorry. No visitors.”

“She’s Mr. Matthews’s personal physician. She needs to speak to his doctor,” Mitch said smoothly.

The nurse nodded, looking at Nichole’s jeans and T-shirt.

“One moment. Wait here.”

“He’s been sleeping,” Mitch told her, probably noticing she wasn’t going to be able to wait much longer.

A tall, thin man with glasses walked toward them with a smile.

“I’m Dr. Tobias; I’m treating Mr. Matthews.”

“I’m Dr. Atherton. Can you catch me up on his case?”

He pulled out a tablet and touched the screen a few times.

“He was brought in by ambulance at five twenty-three. He was unconscious and his breathing was shallow and irregular. Oxygen was administered in the field and continued on arrival. He presented with pinpoint pupils, so we started him on Narcan.”

“Has he woken up?”

“Yes, he regained consciousness and was able to answer questions.”

“No signs of anoxia?” she asked, hoping he didn’t have brain damage from the lack of oxygen.

“No.”

She took a deep breath. He was going to be fine.

“Can I see him?”

“Of course. Let me know if you need anything.” He gestured toward Tucker’s room. Mitch gave her a nod and pointed at his feet to say he would be outside in the hall if she needed him. “We’ve ruled it accidental, given the amount in his system wasn’t life-threatening, but we’re suggesting rehabilitation and therapy.”

“Yes. Thank you.” She felt the doctor leave as she stared at the man sleeping in the bed. He was so pale, with dark circles under his eyes. His hair was shaggy, and she brushed it to the side of his forehead with her fingertips before she sat next to him in the chair.

Tears welled up in her eyes.

She didn’t see the glamorous rock star. Instead she saw a broken man. Her heart seized, wanting to help put him back together.

She still loved him; her pain and anger hadn’t changed that.

She reached over and took his hand. She knew she would do anything he needed. She owed him that much. She owed it to herself. She kissed the back of his hand.

Slowly, he turned his head toward her. His puffy eyes opened and his gaze met hers.

“Nic?” he said, his voice painfully hoarse.

“Yeah. I’m right here.”

“Shit.” He closed his eyes and started shaking his head slowly. “No.” He pulled his hand away. “Go away,” he said.

“What?” She didn’t understand.

“Mitch!” His voice had more force behind it now.

Mitch came into the room, looking as confused as Nichole felt.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I don’t want her here! Why did you let her in here?” Tucker shouted.

“You were saying her name over and over. I thought you wanted her,” Mitch replied.

“No! I don’t! Get rid of her.” Tucker closed his eyes and turned his head away, dismissing them completely.

Mitch gave her a sympathetic look, but she didn’t even give him a chance to speak.

“Mitch, can you give us a minute alone, please?”

For a second, he looked like he might protest.

“Just one minute, okay?”

Mitch nodded and backed out of the room.

Hearing his agent leave, Tucker turned back to see she was still there.

“Christ, Nic. I don’t want you here! Please just go.”

“No. I’m not going anywhere.” Her words were shaky, but she was determined to stay.

He squeezed his eyes closed and shook his head again, as if in pain.

“I don’t want you to see me like this.” His voice was full of hurt and shame. Her heart broke a little more.

Without thinking, she slid into the bed next to him. Winding her arm around his shoulders, she pulled him against her, his head resting on her chest.

“Well, I love you no matter what. So I’m not leaving you.”

His body began shaking with violent sobs as he gave in, clinging to her.

“I’m so sorry, Nic. I fucked everything up.”

“I did my part, too. We’ll just have to fix it.”