Play Your Heart Out: A Rock Star Romance (Sinful Serenade Book 4) (32 page)

I place the brochures on his tray table. "I love you, Daddy, but I'm not going to stay in your life if you keep drinking."

"Jessie, honey, I just took it a little far this time—"

My stomach clenches. His expression is vulnerable. His lips are pale.

My knees knock together. This is hard.

Pete brings his mouth to my ear. "You can do this, baby." He squeezes me.

That helps.

I take a deep breath and adopt my most confident posture. "If you want us to stay in your life, you need to get treatment. You can pick a program that works for you, but it's not negotiable." I stare into Dad's eyes. "If you decide not to go into treatment, that's it. I'm not going to pick up your calls. I'm not going to visit. I'm not going to invite you to my wedding. I'm out of your life. Madison and Aunt Zoe feel the same way."

"Sweetie, I don't know where this is coming from," he says.

God, if he keeps deflecting, if he keeps insisting everything is fine—this might be the last time I see Dad.

"Yes you do." I stare back at him. Okay, one last bit of confidence then I can break. "I'm leaving now, and I'm not going to talk to you until you're in treatment. I'm not going to take any excuses. Okay?"

He stares at me like I'm betraying him.

Okay, he hates me. I can take that. It's better than helping him destroy himself.

"Call when you decide to great treatment." My eyes go to the floor. "I hope you do, Daddy. I hope you get healthy, because it really will kill me watching you drink yourself to death."

A tear rolls down my cheeks. I can't fight it anymore. Again, I let Pete lead. He takes me to the waiting area and wraps his arms around me.

"I've cried more in the last three months than I have the last three years." I squeeze him back. "I'm sorry."

"You apologizing for your feelings?"

"No... Almost."

"Don't. I'm glad you're crying." He laughs. "Don't mean it like that."

"What a horrible boyfriend," I tease. "You're supposed to like it when I'm happy."

He looks down at me, his eyes brimming with affection. "I'm glad you're letting it out." He pats his shoulder. "This is yours, whenever you need it."

I run my fingertips over his other shoulder. "What about that one?"

"That one too."

"What about..." I drag my fingers down his chest and stomach.

"Don't tempt me, baby." He motions to a door on the opposite side of the hallway. "One more word and I'm dragging you to that closet."

My lips curl into a smile. "But is it?"

"You really have to ask?"

I shake my head.

––––––––

There's no word from Dad all day.

Or the next day.

I resign myself to defeat and let Pete schedule a flight home.

I'm about to go to bed when my phone flashes with a new message. Dad's cell phone. How did I miss that?

"Maddie, come here," I call.

"Are you decent?" she yells back.

I am. Pete is only wearing boxers. Mmm. Can't get distracted. This is more important than my libido.

"Yeah." I pull up the message ready to put it on speaker.

Pete slides his arms around me. He pulls us onto the bed, me on his lap. His warm skin presses against my bare shoulders and arms. What is it about a lover's touch that makes it feel like everything is going to be okay?

Madison steps into the room with a huff. She looks at us and shakes her head. "You're disgustingly cute. I hate it."

"Thanks." I smile despite the voicemail's potential to destroy me. "I prefer revoltingly adorable."

Pete chuckles. He leans in to whisper. "Ready?"

I nod and press the play button.

Dad's voice fills the room. It's stronger. More assured.

"Hey Jessie, Maddie. I thought a lot with you gone. You know, you girls were the only light in my life after your mom left. I shouldn't have put you through my drinking. Shouldn't be doing it again. I'm about to check in to a treatment center in Albany. I'll have them call to confirm. I'm not allowed visitors for three weeks, but I hope you'll be there soon. I love you, sweetie. You, too, Maddie."

The line clicks.

It's gonna be okay.

Pete whispers in my ear. "Want me to confirm that?"

I nod.

He takes my phone and makes a call. He nods, smiles. "First week you can visit is the week before Thanksgiving."

"Can you get tickets?" I ask.

He nods.

I hug my sister. "It's gonna be okay."

"Yeah it is," she says.

It might be hard, but it's gonna be okay.

Pete waits for me to release Madison then he pulls me into a tight, deep hug.

"Proud of you," he mumbles into my forehead.

I nod.

"Might be hard, all the rehab shit."

"I know. But we have three weeks to be happy." I look up at him. "And I know I'll be happy as long as I'm with you."

"I love you, baby."

"I love you too."

––––––––

T
he doorbell rings.

I only barely manage to hold onto my mug of coffee. This day has been great so far. Hell, it's the best Thanksgiving I can remember. There's no place to go but down.

Ophelia nods to the door. "I'll get that. Stay put, sweetheart."

She pushes herself off the couch. It's across from the one I'm sharing with Pete. There's a coffee table between them. Between the trays of snacks and the mugs of coffee, there's barely a free inch of the table.

From their spot on the couch opposite ours, Tom and Willow try to act as if they're not staring at me.

I must look as anxious as I feel.

"Breathe, baby." Pete leans in close and rubs my shoulder. "You can do this."

I nod. Of course I can do this. It's not like it's a huge deal, our families sharing a holiday together. And not any holiday—the one about gratitude and sitting around a table with nowhere to hide.

"Your dad looked great when we saw him," Pete says. "Remember?"

"He did." Some of the tension in my shoulders eases. Dad looked great when we visited. But that was halfway through rehab. Now he's out, on his own, taking care of himself.

"You're worried about him?" Pete asks.

I lean in to whisper in his ear. "What if he's already slipped?"

"You really think that happened?"

"No, but..."

His deep brown eyes find mine. The certainty in them soothes me.

Pete pulls me into a tight hug. "You're gonna be okay, baby. I promise."

The front door opens. It's too far to hear exact words, but that's Madison's voice. She's greeting Ophelia. And there's Dad.

I push myself to my feet. I can do this.

Pete motions to Tom and Willow. The three of them stand at once. Then Madison is bouncing into the room. Her short hair hangs in front of her eyes.

"Jessie. Your dress is gorgeous." She throws her arms around me. "I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you too." I pull back and hug my dad. "How have things been?"

"Difficult, but good." He smiles.

He looks good. I can't believe how quickly the time has passed. It feels like just yesterday I was getting on a plane to get as far away from home as possible. And now I'm here, at Ophelia's place in Orange County, surrounded by my family, new and old.

Home is still in flux—the label is kicking us out of the Hollywood place—but I trust Pete when he says he's got it under control. The man really gets shit done.

Ophelia motions for everyone to sit. Madison and Dad introduce themselves. He asks them to call him Mark instead of Mr. James.

It's going well.

It's going to be okay.

"Can I help with dinner?" Madison offers.

"No. We're ordering delivery. No one in the family cooks." She motions to the kitchen. "Would you like some coffee?"

"No thank you." Madison turns to Dad. "You?"

"Yes, please. Thank you." He settles into the armchair with a half-awkward, half-welcoming expression.

"Anyone else?" Ophelia offers.

I hold up my cup. She takes it with a smile then she's in the kitchen, refilling our beverages.

Tom shouts to his mother. "Willow cooks." He points to Willow's wedding ring. "You saying she isn't family?"

Ophelia returns to the room. She shakes her head at Tom. "Don't be ridiculous, Tom. You know Willow is as welcome as you are." She hands Dad his cup. "Cream and sugar are on the table. Almond milk in the fridge if you'd like that."

"Jess cooks," Pete offers.

"She's family," Willow says. "Even if it's not legal... not yet... I'm sure soon they'll be... soon... Nevermind."

Tom laughs. "Kid, you might as well spell it out and say, you're sure they'll get married soon."

"Leave your wife alone. It's bad enough she has to live with you," Ophelia teases.

Tom presses his forehead against Willows. "You're my wife."

She drags her fingers over his wedding band. "You're my husband."

They kiss. Thankfully, it's more sweet than steamy.

Ophelia clears her throat and turns to Madison and Dad. "How was your flight?"

"Good. Long." Madison smiles. "So, who is going to fill me in on all the gossip about my sister?"

Tom lights up. He and Pete share a look.

Pete nods then he turns to Madison. "What exactly do you want to know?"

***

T
he afternoon is perfect. Dinner is perfect. It's an incredibly untraditional spread of Indian food. It's all vegetarian, so Willow won't feel left out.

It's sweet how much Ophelia cares about us feeling accepted. She's warm, welcoming, and take no shit at once. Come evening, she practically kicks us out of the house. I hug Dad and Madison goodbye. They're staying at a nearby hotel. We have plans to show them around Los Angeles tomorrow.

But, tonight is ours.

After we say our goodbyes, Pete slides his arm around my waist. He practically drags me outside.

The dark sky is dotted with stars. The moon is a thin sliver of silver. We're in the suburbs, surrounded by the light of houses and shopping centers, but I can see so much more details of the stars than I can in Hollywood.

"You secretly miss the suburbs, baby?" he asks.

"No." I pull him closer, soaking in the warmth of his body. It's cold out here. "I miss the stars."

"Let's go look at them."

"We caught a ride here with Tom and Willow." I stare into his eyes, trying to figure out what the spark of mischief in them means. "Explain yourself."

"You trust me?"

"You know I do."

"Then follow me."

I nod an okay and follow him around the corner. The next block is a cul-de-sac lined with perfectly symmetrical two-story, four-bedroom houses.

It doesn't seem like the kind of place that suits Ophelia, but her home is as warm, inviting, and bad ass as she is.

Pete pulls something from the front pocket of his jeans. Keys. He taps them and a car's beep echoes through the air.

Where did that come from?

I stare at my boyfriend.

He smiles back at me then he motions to a car parked on street, some fifteen feet in font of us. Its lights flash as its electric lock disengages.

Pete hands me the keys. "It's yours."

"What?"

He leads me to the car. It's the same as his. A Tesla. A very expensive luxury electric car.

Only it's silver.

"When I asked you what you wanted, you said you wanted a silver Tesla." His eyes fill with affection. "Now you have it."

"But it's so expensive."

"You said you wanted it, so I got it for you."

My heart melts. I slide my arms around his waist. His cotton hoodie is soft and thick but I can still feel the warmth of his body under it.

"Your dad is sober too." He presses his palm between my shoulder blades, pulling me closer.

"And you love me."

"Only two things left. The house on the beach and the cup of coffee."

My tongue is in knots. This is too perfect for words. I murmur something that vaguely resembles a yes.

"Guessing you don't want a giant cup of coffee right now," he says.

"No."

"I'll buy you one first thing tomorrow." He squeezes me tighter. "And you wanted law school to be easier. Can't do much about that. Well... I'm trying something."

"You're being mysterious."

"Yeah." He steps back and leads me to the driver's side door. "Let's take her for a spin. I'll show you a great make-out spot."

I press the keys between my palms. "Okay, but my car is a boy."

He chuckles as we get in the car. "What's his name?"

"Hmmm. Steele."

"Baby, that's a little myopic."

"But you're the only person I want to sit on."

He shakes his head. "You're lucky you look as hot as you do in your glasses, because that was terrible."

I push the bridge of my glasses up my nose. "Okay. How about Peeta?"

"Peeta is perfect."

I secure my seat belt and turn the car on. The electric engine barely whispers. It's quiet. And it's mine.

Damn, it's like the car handles better being mine. I pull onto the street and follow Pete's directions. Traffic is light. The streets are wide. It feels like I zoom through every green light.

Twenty minutes later, we're turning on a quiet, curvy street. It takes us to the top of a hill. The twinkling lights of the suburbs surround us. And past those, there's the dark blue of the ocean.

It's beautiful. And empty.

The perfect make-out spot.

I turn off the engine and undo my seatbelt.

Pete turns to me. "Should we christen Peeta or is he shy?"

A laugh escapes my lips. "No. He's into it. He digs threesomes."

Pete chuckles. He pats his lap.

I don't need to be asked twice. I climb over the center console. My knees plant outside his thighs. It already feels so good, the weight of my body sinking into his.

He looks up at me. His fingers trail over my jaw and my cheek. He takes off my glasses, folds them, and places them in the center console. "Let me see it again."

My lips curl into a smile. Okay, time to tease him back. "You want me topless, ask."

"You're wearing a dress."