Chapter 59: Rock Stars Do The Sweetest Things

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Trace

A hundred pounds of grilled ribs later, the crew meanders in, with giant coolers of beers—as if we didn't have enough alcohol already—and a case of Sonos speakers, and somebody starts to DJ, and the party is lit.

It's been a minute since I've had a minute with Kat, what with the commotion of grilling and greeting. She came out of her little tete-a-tete with Leed looking serious, so I figured they had a get-real moment about Ashlynn, and maybe I should give her some space. But I simply can't leave her alone for long. We don't have much time together, and I want as much as I can get.

She's eating with Row and Mac. No surprise there. The Hell Raisers Club. I chuckle to myself. Kat is the sweetest of those three by far, but damn, my girl has a temper. Worse than mine, I think. I knew that, from when she was a kid and we scrapped like junk-yard dogs,but it's different now. Our love makes it more...urgent, when she is angry.

She has to stop pushing me. I don't know if she can't help herself, or if she's trying to make me see that I won't respond with violence, but when she hits me or throws things at me, the disrespect makes me furious. I've given her my heart, my soul, my trust, and she's slappin' me around with it. It's going to be one of our struggles—her learning to respect my boundary. I have to believe we will get there.

I watch her, laughing with Mac and Row, her flannel shirt and beautiful long brown hair whipping in the beach wind, and her gorgeous cheeks appled in a smile. I love her so much, and I'm asking a lot from her, too—refusing to tell the world how much I love her.

I know she wants to go public. I know it bothers her that I put a ring on her sister's finger and I won't even put a hashtag on her Instagram.

I'm just so over serious. I feel like we waged a war and won, and I just want to enjoy the easy spoils. I need the old-school familiarity of me and my KitKat, shady partners-in-crime. As kids, we were always hiding how close we were from the world. Secret friends before we were secret lovers.

She never knew that she was my rock. All that time I was watching out for her, she was saving me, making me the man I am, not a man like Ross. I need it like used to be between us, at least for a little while. And she wants us to move ahead. She needs the security of being an official couple.

I know it's about compromise. She'll have to reign in her temper, and I'll have to be the guy that can give her a future. My therapist says it's about baby steps. The first step being...I tell Kat I'm in therapy over my relationship hang-ups. Yeah, still working on that first step.

I take my plate and plop down beside her.

"Hey." I run my hand to the inside of her thigh. She squeezes her legs together, trapping my hand. Okay, she's not too mad at me.

"Hey. Great job on the ribs," she smiles as she reaches for a napkin. I immediately pull her fingers into my mouth and I hear her breath catch as I lick the sauce from them.

Row groans. "Jesus. Did you guys ride a horse here from your country love story?"

"Fuck you and your city cynicism. I'm Team TrayKat," Mac says with complete nonchalance, as she gnaws on a rib like a wolf that hasn't eaten in days. I watch Mac, fascinated. I don't know that I've ever seen her eat anything I would consider food. Her and Leed and their damn health food. 

"I wouldn't expect any less, Madam." Row shoots back as she swings up from the deck table. "Christ, I'm hanging with a bunch of lightweights. Riley! Tequila! Shot for shot! Now!" she yells.

Riley's smile fades as he leaves whatever conversation he was engaged in with Andy and a couple of the sound guys. He barely gives Row a glance. "No. You have to sing tomorrow. You need to hydrate. But if you'll switch to water—and no more cigarettes—" he shrugs, "I'll smoke a bowl with you." He puts a finger in the air. "One."

Riley adjusts her gray curls, wrapped up in a Black Sabbath bandana, flips Riley a bird and stalks into the house. I snort.

"Doesn't look flirtatious to me. Looks like what I said...Riley trying to manage her and Row is not having it."

Mac and Kat exchange a smile. Kat rubs against my shoulder, and whispers. "I think she just went to pack her pipe."

"Nah, she's in there lining up the shots. Why don't you join her, Mac?" I tease. "Or have you abdicated as Lucky Shot Queen?"

Mac rolls her eyes at me. "Funny, coming from you, Mr. King-of-Cutting-Back." Mac wags a rib at Kat. "You know he won't drink around fangirls anymore, right?"

Kat looks a little troubled. "Because you are afraid you might fall off the monogamy wagon?"

"Not at all," I assure her. "It's just helps me keep my reaction time. Some of those girls can stick their tongue down your throat faster than you would believe. They are like ninja-kissers." I hold up my hands karate-style, feigning a defense. "I have to stay sober to fend them off."

Mac laughs. "It's true. He almost blinded a girl after the Albany show. She moved in for the kill and he stuck a hand right in her face. It was great."

"She's probably gonna sue," I sigh. Kat looks anxious, and I wrap my arms around her waist. "I'm kidding. It's fine."

"Ha." Mac says with triumph. Row is back. She sachays over to Riley and stands beside him—almost meekly? What the fuck. He looks down at whatever she has in her hands and nods. He murmurs something in her ear, and gestures to the pool house. She makes her way there at once. He wraps up his conversation with Andy and follows her.

As he passes, Riley raises an eyebrow and gives me a slight smirk. Ah. I'm right. He's managing her. I nod at him. Right on, brother. Thanks for taking one for the team. He blinks, and nods back.

Mac bursts into laughter when Riley goes into the poolhouse. "Trace," she says, "I'm really surprised at you...giving Riley the nod to bang your sister. I thought you'd be more Leed than Leed, when it came to policing her."

I shake my head. "What? That's not what that nod was. It was a nod of thanks. He's just managing her. Doing a damn good job, too. It's like he's found the Row code."

Kat and Mac look at each other, and say nothing. Suddenly, I feel...anxious. "You guys don't really think?" I rise toward the pool house. Kat puts a hand on my arm. "I'm sure it's fine. Let's go down to the bonfire."

I forget all about Row and Riley with the prospect of Kat, a blanket, and a darkened beach before me. After a quick round up of a few supplies and beers in the house, we are sinking our feet into the sand. The night is cooling off, and we claim a spot close to the fire, but on the opposite side of where everyone else is sitting. Street's over there with a guitar and some of the Strut girls and there's a quieter sing along in progress. He's good at that folk-surfer kind of song, and all those girls can weave pretty harmonies. It's great to have some musicians around, and to take the night off from providing the entertainment. Perfect, romantic vibe.

I plant myself around Kat, pulling her between my legs, as she leans back against me. We enjoy the music without talking much. It's dark, and it's semi-private, and pretty soon, I'm tracing her pretty tattoos and rubbing her belly and pressing my lips against her ear.

"I'm so happy you are here." I tell her. "This is perfect."

Then she twists in my lap and kisses me. My instinct is to pull back—there are people not twenty feet away on the other side of the fire— but the heat of her desire mixes with the tang of barbecue in her sweet kiss, and I find myself relaxing. As our tongues tangle and her body molds itself to mine, I give in to my own wanting and gently lower her to the blanket, touching her face, her neck, gliding my fingers around the edges of her bikini top, down her tan, flat belly, around her hip. I squeeze her ass gently.

She pulls me down over her, greedy for more of my mouth. We make out easy, and I try to record the way she feels by putting my hands everywhere, and keeping my eyes open to memorize how beautiful she looks in the flickering firelight, her eyes sparking as she giggles and pants.

She's really turned on by this—by making out in the dark just a few feet away from people. I have the sudden devilish urge to tease her, push her a little. I roll to the fire side, shielding her body in case anyone should edge around the bonfire. I caress her neck and then slowly pull the string to untie her bikini top there. She arches up against my hand as I slowly slide it down her sternum, tease open her flannel shirt and pull the cup of her bikini away from her painted breast.

Kat's tats are fucking hot. Suddenly, I'm supercharged. I'm licking the pretty pink nipple in the middle of her pretty warm tats and sliding my hand up her shorts leg, pulling aside her bikini bottom, the need to make her come—maybe even come myself— claiming priority over everything else.

She stills my hand with a strangled gasp. "No. Not here. They can see."

"I don't care." I mumble back, sucking at her hardened nipple, my fingers crawling deeper into her soft, sweet sex.

"I...I...care. This is—too far. Stop." Her hands are in my hair, still caressing me, but her words are saying stop.

I withdraw my hand, and lick my fingers. "Mmmm." I moan in regret. "I guess that will just have to hold me over until bed."

"Freak," she giggles easily. She made me stop, but we are good. No drama there.

"Freak for you," I agree, as  I pull her back to a sitting position. I'm moving behind her to retie her top when the wind shifts, blowing the fire. Through the flames, I get a clear view of my brother—and he gets a clear view of us. Maybe it was the fire shifting, but I get the weird feeling that his expression was...not what it should be. Instinctively, I put my hands over Kat's exposed breasts.

"Dammit, I think my brother just got a show," I warn her.

She quickly reties her top and buttons up her flannel shirt against the cooling night. "I'm sure he's seen plenty of accidental flesh."

"Yeah, but you're my girl, and he's my brother, and you guys are friends, so that's not cool. I took that too far. I'm really sorry."

She rubs my thighs. "It's okay. I'm just glad we stopped before the fire shifted."

"You think I should say something to him? Smooth it over or something?"

"No, just leave it...it's fine."

She gets quiet, we go back to relaxing and enjoying the music, me leaning back, propped against my hands, and her leaning against me. She slowly turns sideways in my lap. "Trace...I need to tell you something, ok? I did something...I kind of regret."

I stop breathing. I close my eyes. I knew this would happen. I knew LA would be a challenge. I tell myself, over and over, whatever she says, I won't freak out. We'll get through it. The truth is, I did something I regret, too. We're going to get through it all.

Her fingers are playing with the buttons on my open shirt. She doesn't want to tell me. Shit, maybe it's the worst. Maybe she fucked some other guy. I shake my head, not even realizing it, but it's like I can't believe she would do that. Not my KitKat. She loves me. I know it.

"It's okay," I tell her. "Whatever it is. It's okay."

"You don't know what I'm going to say," she whispers.

Suddenly, I feel like I can't take it. I have to do something to lighten the mood. "Yeah, I do. You made a porno with your Witch friends, didn't you?"

Her eyes go wide. The look on her face—it's..shit. It's not good. "Christ, did you really make a fucking porno?!?!" I hiss.

She laughs. "No, I did not make a porno, you idiot!" She leans her forehead against my neck and shakes in laughter. "That would bother you, huh?"

"The idea of people paying to see your flesh? Uhhhh, yeah, it would bother me. Sorry, I know it's misogynistic, but my inner Neanderthal has to draw the line somewhere."

Her shaking laughter fades, and she is quiet again. I rub her back through the flannel shirt. "So now that we've established you didn't make a porno, and...you didn't fuck somebody else...right?"

"Definitely not."

The tension in my chest eases. "So how bad could it be? A little coke?"

"No."

"Good. That stuff's bad for you."

"I know. I'm not planning on hard drugs. I promise."

Ahhh. Hard drugs, she says. But where is she drawing the line?

"You roll again? Let somebody kiss you in a club?"

"No...and no."

"Running out of guesses here, Kitty. Just tell me, Sweetheart." Tell me, and I'll tell you, and we'll get through it.

She looks me in the face. "I regret...acting like a jealous girlfriend. Earlier—the Penelope thing."

I can see it in her eyes. She's holding something back. Part of me wants to call her out, demand to know the truth. But I know damn well I did the exact same thing...chickening out over and over, when I should have told her about Ashlynn. In a weird sort of way, I actually sympathize with Kat right now, even though I'm sure she's keeping something from me.

I loved her desperately every second I was withholding something from her. I know how she feels right now. Whatever she did—it has nothing to do with the way she feels about me, but it's something she's afraid I'm not going to understand. And she needs more time to tell me. It's probably an endorsement or some stupid social media shit that she knows is going to hit soon. Maybe a club is putting together a photo-op for her and another dude, or something. I can't really blame her for that kind of shit, since I won't make us official.

And honestly, I don't want to tell her my regret either. We have so little time together. I just want it to be all good. So I let it go, for now.

I smile at her, and cup her little lying face. "Pffft-is that all? Don't even worry about it, baby. I'm sure Penelope will be thrilled to have a paycheck for the next six months and the time to look for a better job."

"No. Getting fired is a blow. Especially when it's unjust, like this would be. Don't. You don't have to. It's stupid of me to be jealous over one bad date you had with her years ago. I trust you, Trace. I really do."

Now she's looking at me with shining eyes, and it makes me sad to think she believes in me more than she believes in herself. I kiss her forehead, her nose, her lips. "Fine, we'll keep her. And you can trust me, baby, I promise. And you can trust yourself, too. You are strong, and smart, and if you did something you regret, then I know you'll make a better choice next time, right? It's all good."

She smiles. "I love you. So much. You make me want to be a better person. I'm sorry I threw the corn at you. I know...I've got to do better with your rule. I guess...I'm just a rule-breaker at heart."

I chuckle. "Yeah, you are. But that rule...it's an important one, because it...it does something to me to be hit, Kat. Inside. I see red. My brain doesn't work right. And even though you aren't really a threat to me...it makes me feel...backed into a corner. And I don't ever want to come out swinging at you. It's what my counselor calls a trigger, you know?"

Half her face is shadowed, but even so I can see the surprise. "You're seeing a counselor?"

"Seeing? Not yet. Not til I get off tour. Our sessions are face-time right now. But it's okay so far."

Kat cups my face with her hands. I feel a warmth spread through me—it's like I can feel her pride and love. "Wow. That's...a huge step for you. I had no idea...you wanted that. Or that you needed that."

"I want to be the best guy I can for you," I tell her and then her tears start. "Shhh," I kiss them away. "Don't cry, baby. It's all good."

"It's not," she whispers. "I'm so sorry...I keep pushing you...physically. I'm so sorry. I just get so mad at you sometimes. Still."

"About...?" I trail off. It's been a while since I've spoken Ashlynn's name between us, and I don't want to break the streak.

"Yeah. But it's not jealousy. It's that...it wounded you. You're scared of commitment, because of the experience you and Ashlynn had. I feel like, you let her break the boy I loved. And...he was mine, and now...he's gone," she whispers, more tears streaming down her beautiful, heartbroken face.

"No, Kitty, you're wrong," I put her hand on my heart. "That boy is still here, and he's still yours. I think you're the only person that truly knows him. He will always be there for you. He's just gotta share space with the man, now. I hope you can learn to love grown-up me, too. He's not quite...there yet. He's still finding his way. Kind of like you are. You see that, right? That neither one of is there?"

She laughs through her tears. "Definitely. You think when we get there, we'll still be in the same place? Like Matt and Marianne?" God, Kat shoots straight to my heart. She makes me feel so...much. So vulnerable.

"If we lose sight of each other, I will find you. I know where to look," I promise her.

"Up a tree," she laughs, and as I laugh, to my surprise, a tear spills down my own cheek. Christ, what my girl does to me. Nobody makes me cry. Ever.

I clear my throat, and reach around to a little bag with our beers and things. I crack open two more Corona's. "To finding the prize with you, baby," I say. Kat beams and clinks her bottle against mine, drinking deeply.

"Mmmmm, I almost forgot," I pull two boxes out of the bag. One is a flat leather case about the size of a CD, but a little thicker. The other is a small, square blue box. "Choose," I say.

"Wow. A double CD or a Tiffany's box?" Kat teases. "Are you punking me?"

"Actually, I am. You get them both. This one is your three month anniversary present," I toss her the Tiffany box casually.

She laughs. "I love how you are making sure I know this is not a ring."

I wink. "Yeah, even I wouldn't fuck up a proposal by tossing you an engagement ring," I assure her.

She takes the top off the tiny box, and slides out the velvet box that does, in fact, look just like a ring box. I have moment's pang of...something. She's already got the idea it's not a ring...but still. I hope she's not holding out hope...

"Oh my god," she breathes as she takes in the large diamond studs glinting in the firelight. I smile. No sound of disappointment at all. "They're beautiful, and...huge!"

"Mmmmm. Not really. Two carats each." I shrug. "I figured, you know, something nice but not too big for everyday wear."

"I want to put them on right now," she says excitedly. She's trying to pull them from the box and pull the back off one.

"Fuck no!" I laugh, snatching the box away. "Not out here in the dark, in the sand. The tide's coming in. If you drop one, we'll never find it! I love you, Kitty, but I'd appreciate you not tossing forty grand into the ocean."

Her eyes go round, but then she smirks. "Show-off. You just had to let me know how much they cost, didncha?"

"'Course. I am a flashy, brash, rock star. You can put them in and soon as we get back to the house, and then you can wear them without worry— they are insured."

"Thank you, Trace. I'll wear them every day." she rises on her knees and kisses my cheek. Wow, I can't remember the last time she kissed my cheek, but I love it. That one sweet gesture—worth every penny of those little earrings.

"So those are for my LA lady..." I say, "and this...is for my grunge girl." I present her with

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