Risky Rockstar: A Hero Club Novel, стр. 79
He was safe.
The unwelcome thought hits me squarely between my ribs. Is Kade right? Is Kevin a security blanket for me?
Kevin’s light rap on the door interrupts my thoughts, and I tell myself to table this for another time.
I set my mug on the half-moon table next to the door, don my best “I’m totally together smile,” and open it. I see immediately that I haven’t been able to pull it off as the frown between Kevin’s brows deepens, and he pulls me in for a hug.
“What happened?” Holding me at arm’s length, he shoots me a “don’t bullshit me” look. We make our way to the living room where Kevin sits down opposite me on the coffee table.
The overwhelming urge to purge everything takes over, and before I’ve even sat down—and worse, before I’ve offered him a drink—I’m telling him about the interview and the breakup. I don’t mention a thing about Benji though; it somehow doesn’t feel right sharing that with Kevin. I do tell him about how thick I laid it on, and how with each gesture I hurt Kade more and more.
While Kevin silently listens, leaning over to squeeze my hand in comfort whenever the words stick in my throat, I tell him about the car, how Kade had the driver pull over and how he ended things with us. I also tell him I have no idea how I’m going to perform with Kade again.
When silent tears slip from my eyes, Kevin gets up and sits next to me. Handing me a tissue, he pulls me against his chest he lets me cry. His wordless comfort holds no judgment for the terrible things I’ve done, and his arms are exactly what I need right now.
The arms of a friend.
An unknown amount of time passes, and my tears run dry. It’s when I’m no longer wallowing in self-pity that I realize Kevin’s phone is vibrating.
“Hey, your phone is ringing.”
“I know. I didn’t want to disturb you.”
I push off his shoulder. “You’re too polite for your own damn good, do you know that?”
Kevin’s lips spread into a smile as he stands and answers the call. “Hey, Gran. How was book club last night?”
I try not to eavesdrop, but it’s pretty much impossible when Kevin is only a couple of feet away. He frowns and bites on his lip, and with every word he’s hearing, I note his body grow more and more tense and the grip on his phone gets tighter and tighter, till I’m sure in a moment he’ll crush it. Finally, he speaks in a tone so full of strain it’s like he’s choking.
“Thanks for letting me know, Gran. I…I appreciate it.”
He stares at the screen until it fades to black and he sees his own reflection. I can feel the anger throbbing off him like a dense, oppressing fog. Finally he sits down and hangs his head.
Concern for Kevin washes over me, and I move until I’m on my knees in front of him.
“Kevin? What is it?”
He looks up and the air rushes out of me. There are no words to describe the level of pain reflected in his eyes and worry for my friend takes a stab at me.
“Claire’s in labor.”
It takes a moment for his words to sink in, but when they do, shock settles over me like a cloak.
“Is it your baby?” Did I really just ask that? I want to clamp my hand over my mouth.
No, I want to sew my damn mouth shut because that’s none of my damn business.
Kevin looks up, and maybe it’s my utter mortification, but he’s quick to correct himself. Or at least my misinterpretation.
“No, she—” He shakes his head in disbelief or confusion or goodness knows what. “She was a gestational surrogate for her sister. The baby isn’t hers. She just…” He trails off, and relief hits me until I see that the fact that Claire isn’t about to have some other guy’s baby doesn’t seem to be offering him any comfort. He looks at me, shaking his head. “She didn’t tell me.”
I know what this means to him. He and Claire were always close; from what he told me, they were inseparable growing up and told each other everything. Claire not telling Kevin she was the surrogate for her sister’s baby meant that she had well and truly severed all ties with him.
“I’ve got to go to South Africa.” He opens the browser on his phone and starts searching for flights. “The first flight out is in four hours.”
“Is there room for two?” I don’t want to impose, but I can’t let him fly all the way to South Africa alone. Especially not in this state. Besides, I know exactly how he’s feeling right now—the pain that’s coursing through him. Maybe I won’t be able to fix anything for Kevin by going along, but the thought of focusing on someone else right now instead of this hollow pain is just what I need.
“They only have coach tickets.”
“I don’t mind slumming it,” I tease.
A glimmer of a smile spreads over his lips as he books the tickets. I reach for my purse so I can retrieve my credit card and hand it to Kevin. “For my ticket.”
“Nah, you can buy me dinner.”
I laugh and the levity feels so good. “Chicken or beef?”
Kevin’s chuckle is like a reward after a long struggle. “Can you pack in ten minutes? I’ve asked Savannah, my PA, to meet me here with my passport.”
“I’ll be ready in five, but what about you? You don’t have time to get to your place to pack?”
“No, I’ll be fine.