Neon Dreams: Loving Dallas Part 20

"Cut the c.r.a.p, Robyn. You know I'm not interested in any of them."

"Don't," I say, pointing a finger at him. "Don't make me seem crazy. I'm not overreacting or making a scene. You're the one chasing me down here. They were all over you and you were lapping it up like a stud in the pasture."

"That's a lie and you know it."

I gawk at him in disbelief. "Are you f.u.c.king kidding me?"

"Are you?"

We're yelling now but I can't figure out how to defuse the situation.

"No. I'm not. I'm supposed to be here to do my job and that's pretty hard to do watching the person I'm sleeping with getting molested in front of me. I'm having a hard enough time trying not to gag all over the place as it is. You were right. We shouldn't have crossed that line because now we can't go back."

"I'm here doing my job, too, d.a.m.n it. And what the h.e.l.l is that supposed to mean? Go back? You want to unf.u.c.k me?"

"I want to unknow you. I want to go back in time and never freaking speak to you. It always ends like this, no matter how hard we try or how many things we try to do differently."

"What do you want me to do, babe? Tell the next woman that touches me to keep her G.o.dd.a.m.n hands to herself? Do you have any idea what that would do to my career? Who do you think buys my music? Have you paid attention to who's filling those seats at every show? This is part of it. This is the gig, sweetheart. You're the one who planned this f.u.c.king party for this very reason. I thought you got that."

"No." I shake my head and wipe the tears threatening to spill from my eyes before they can fall. "The party is to celebrate the music, the sales, and-"

"It's the same d.a.m.n thing!" Dallas throws his hands up, looking at me like I'm brain dead and he's tired of dumbing everything down for me. "It's me. That's what I'm selling here. Me. I need them to buy into me as an artist. I can't do that by being an a.s.shole to them."

He's about to reiterate his whole "Performer Dallas" versus "Person Dallas" spiel but I just can't hear it right now.

"Go on and get back to your party, Dallas."

"You want me to leave?"

I nod. "I do."

"You sure? I just want to be clear so if I go you don't hold it over my head for the next five years."

I have no words.

None.

The bile burns too hot, sending an acidic searing sensation through my chest and into my throat.

When I finally find my voice, it's eerily even. "Do not throw our past into my face. I have never held anything over your head. If anything, I let you off the hook too easily."

Dallas smirks and shakes his head. "What f.u.c.king hook, Robyn? You dumped me, remember? Instead of letting me be there for you, you lied to me-kept something huge from me. And you're the one who gets to be p.i.s.sed? I'm throwing the bulls.h.i.+t flag on that one."

I blow past him and out of the room like a wayward hurricane of h.e.l.lfire. I am not doing this at a work-related event. Moreover, I can't. Because I'm about to be sick again.

I make it outside to where valets in red vests are retrieving cars before I vomit in the bushes beside the building.

The entire world spins, kind of how my life is spiraling out of control while I'm powerless to stop it. All I can do is kick my purse out of the way, brace my hands on my knees, and let it come.

30 Dallas.

WHY I'M FOLLOWING A WOMAN OUTSIDE WHO CLEARLY WANTS nothing more to do with me, I can't be certain. But I do know that something is wrong.

I've never seen Robyn that pale or that hateful. She's been p.i.s.sed at me before, sure, but this was a whole new level that felt dangerously close to actual hatred.

I don't know if I could live with myself if Robyn hated me. And I know I definitely couldn't live with myself if I let her go home alone looking the way she did. I'm almost positive the anger was the only thing holding her upright. The protective instincts I've honed from years of being an older brother kick in and I press on through the partygoers.

If I could go back in time and stand up so that Carly or Callie or whatever the h.e.l.l her name was wouldn't have sat on my lap, I would do whatever it took to get there. The last thing I ever wanted was to be the reason for that wounded look in Robyn's eyes. She can put on her angry face all she wants; that was pure unadulterated pain I saw while she yelled at me.

Once I'm outside where people are getting in and out of cars, I look around but Robyn is nowhere to be seen. Someone obviously had too many of the Midnight Bay blue shooters because I can hear them retching even over the music. When it continues to the point that I'm fearful for their life, I jog over to where the sound is coming from.

"Oh, baby," I say once I see who it is. Robyn is bent over yakking into the bushes. The force is jolting her body forward hard. I grab her hair with two hands and pull it out of the line of fire. Once I have it secured to the nape of her neck with one fist, I use the other hand to rub circles on her back. "You're okay, sweet girl. Just get it all up. It's okay. I'm here."

"I don't want-" She surges forward again and heaves but I think she's out of ammunition. "You here," she finishes.

"Well, tough s.h.i.+t, sweetheart. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere."

"Don't want anyone," she begins, pausing to stand and wipe her mouth, "to see me like this." I release her hair and she glances around. Noticing her purse on the ground, I pick it up. At least it didn't get puked on.

"Come on. We'll take one of the sober cars back to the hotel."

I wrap my arms around her and guide her to the nearest valet. Once they've located a car for us, Robyn slides in and I follow.

The driver is a gray-haired man with a gray wool cap on. "Where to, kids?"

"The nearest urgent care center or ER," I answer.

Robyn looks like I've slapped her. "No," she practically shouts. "Just take us to the Hutton, please."

"Are you serious right now?" This girl. She's practically turning green right in front of my eyes. "We need to get you checked out."

"The Hutton, please," she tells the driver while ignoring me. "I swear I'm fine."

"You say that, but you don't look fine," I tell her. "And if you think I'm just going to dump you off in your room, you're crazy."

The driver ends up taking us to the hotel, where I take Robyn to my room so she doesn't keep Katie up all night.

After a pack of saltine crackers and two Gatorades, she takes a shower and comes out looking like a new person.

"I'm telling you, it's just a stomach bug. It's on its way out." Robyn promises me she's on the mend and that if she gets sick again like that she'll make an appointment with her doctor.

She's nearly asleep in my bed when she blinks her sleepy eyes up at me and says, "I'm sorry you had to leave your party. And that I didn't tell you about my mom."

"I don't care about parties, Robyn. But can you just tell me why? Why you didn't tell me about your mom that summer? I could've-"

"You could've canceled the shows you were so excited about. You would have." Robyn sighs against my chest before raising her eyes to mine. "Your grandma had just pa.s.sed and you'd already put everything on hold once. I didn't want to be the reason you sidelined your dream again."

"So you didn't actually want to break up, you just couldn't go on the road and you didn't want me to stay?"

"I wanted you to stay," she says quietly. "I just didn't want to want that. It was selfish and unfair. And I wanted you to have your shot at your dream more than I wanted to have you hold my hand in a waiting room all summer."

My whole life I've put everyone else first. My sister. My grandparents. Gavin. I'd never realized someone had been putting my dreams before their own needs.

I can't explain how her confession makes me feel right now so I don't try.

I lean down and kiss her on the forehead. "Get some rest, pretty girl. We can talk about this later."

She surprises me by grabbing my s.h.i.+rt. "Spoon me for a while? Until I fall asleep? Pretty please?"

"I never could turn down 'pretty please.' "

She rolls over, curving into me with her backside, and I drape my arm over her body.

More of my granddad's wisdom comes to mind. "A woman's like a guitar, son. It's all in how you hold her." After that he'd added, "Get comfortable with her but never take her for granted, appreciate every single inch and curve. The imperfections are what make her unique, what make her yours."

"Please don't hate me, Dallas," she whispers. "I couldn't stand it if you hated me."

"I could never hate you, Robyn. Go to sleep, sweetheart."

Jesus. I was mad as h.e.l.l that she didn't tell me about Belinda, but I didn't say anything about hating her. Watching her drift off to sleep so peacefully after her night full of outbursts and erratic behavior makes me wonder if she's a pod person or secretly has an evil twin.

But it was a s.e.xy jealous evil twin and when she dozes off in my arms, I stay awake watching her to make sure the vomiting really has pa.s.sed. By daybreak I've decided to keep her, evil twin and all.

Robyn is still recovering from food poisoning or whatever the h.e.l.l she had so she isn't coming to the show in Nashville tonight. She texts me a "have a great show" message but when I respond by asking if I can come by her room and check on her after, she doesn't answer.

Mandy told me to meet her on Wade's bus before the show at the Woods Amphitheater at Fontanel. After making sure that Katie was in their room to keep an eye on Robyn, I left the hotel and joined far more folks than I expected on Wade's fancy-a.s.s bus.

The built-in furniture is all black leather and sleek marble surfaces. There's a flat screen against the wall that's nearly as big as the bunk I sleep on in my bus.

Wade sits leaned back in a booth across from his manager and a few guys from his band. Mandy, Ty, and Lex are here as well.

Barry Borscetti's face is on the computer in front of them and he's talking when I walk in.

"He's here," Wade's manager, a husky guy named Rick, says when Mandy and I make our way over. "We're good to go."

"What's going on?" I look to Mandy for an answer and she grins like someone with a secret.

"Dallas, we're glad you're here," Barry says, drawing my attention from my manager. "Your agent has been filled in so the paperwork is already being processed."

I feel like I'm missing the punch line to an inside joke. "Okay. Someone want to fill me in now?"

"It's about the tour," Barry says. "Jase has signed on for an international leg of the Kickin' Up Crazy tour and we couldn't be more excited. With the success of 'Better to Burn' and the enthusiasm for your upcoming alb.u.m, we've decided to include you as well. Congratulations. This is going to be an amazing opportunity for both of you."

"The exposure alone is going to skyrocket your career, Dallas," Mandy whispers from beside me, wrapping her arm around mine and holding on tightly.

"Mexico is confirmed for three dates. Five shows in Canada," Barry is saying as I tune back in. "Two shows in Rio de Janeiro and two London venues have committed. There's a foundation supporting a campaign called Bring Country Music to the UK that is ecstatic about having you boys over there. We'll have two shows in the Philippines, which will provide some photo ops with service groups that you'll be visiting while you're there. We're still working with Australian vendors and should hear back from Tokyo today."

"Sounds great, Barry," Wade says. He sounds as tired as I feel but we both know how huge this is. Not just for us, or for this tour, but for country music.

Once upon a time, it was only in the southern United States, then it expanded to reach the rest of the country, and now it's taking on the world. It's surreal to be a part of that and I can't even think straight as I imagine visiting those parts of the globe.

"Have a great show tonight, fellas," Barry says before signing off.

"Well, this calls for another celebration," Mandy announces. "I'll have someone bring in some party favors for after the show tonight. We'll see if Midnight Bay can help us out with that.

The mention of Midnight Bay reminds me of Robyn. I hope like h.e.l.l she'll be joining us for this leg of the tour. The craziest part? I can't even imagine it without her.

31 Robyn.

"MISS BREELAND?"

I glance up from the magazine I've been perusing. I'll have to finish the article on the benefits of breastfeeding some other time. Or maybe not. Maybe I'm some crazy exception to the chemistry of home pregnancy tests. That could happen.

Suuure it could.

Ignoring my subconscious as it openly mocks me, I smile at the pet.i.te blonde in pale pink scrubs as she holds the door open for me.

"Right this way. You're in here," she says pointing to a door that's ajar.

I step into the room and try not to have a panic attack. "Thanks," I mumble.

She smiles again and I try to focus on her face. She's giving me this sympathetic head-tilted, eye-creasing expression and I read more into it than I probably should. I'm not even wearing an engagement ring, but here I am. Hoping against hope that I'm not knocked up even though I suspect we both know that I am.

"Just undress completely and put this gown on." She leans down to retrieve a pale yellow paper gown that's practically see-through and then hands it to me. "Have a seat on the table and the doctor will be right in."

I swallow and nod as she leaves me alone with my gown in hand. My tongue is thick and foreign in my mouth. Maybe I'm allergic to this place. Or this ridiculously thin gown. Why do they have to be so freaking thin? Couldn't I open a flannel robe just as easily? Once you're in the stirrups, it hardly matters.

Oh G.o.d. The stirrups.

I glance over and there they are, screwed to the end of the table like a medieval torture device. With all the advances in technology, surely there's a better way.

You can do this. It's fine. You have a great job, fantastic medical benefits.

I console myself with this information as I undress in what has now become a freezing cold meat locker instead of a warm and cozy doctor's office.

But what will Mr. Martin say about traveling? What if I can't? What if I can't find a nanny willing to travel with me?

My breathing has accelerated to a dangerous level. I can see my chest heaving and I can't remember if I was supposed to take off my bra. Surely I can leave on my bra.

I'm leaving my bra on.