Ripped (Real, #5)(87)

The truth is it’s for me, for my father. But mostly, for us.

We’re at our headquarters. The place where the guys and I have recorded, nonstop, several songs. Pandora waits outside, chatting with Lionel, while I tape not the one song I promised Lionel but two.

Through the window, I see her. The smile on her face? Yeah, that shit’s rare and precious. It’s what gives me the strength to go on, get these tapes down, get it over with.

The guys will get two singles from me for the new album.

The rest will be instrumental; heavy on the guitars. The boys are excited about mashing those guitar-heavy orchestral songs with a variety of popular songs from different singers. It’ll probably be the perfect music for dancing at any f*cking bar.

“You sure about this, man?” Lex asks when I come out to say goodbye. We do a hand salute we used to do when we were younger, and I slap his back.

“Yeah, as sure as you are of keeping that ugly dragon up your arm.”

“Kenna, dude, anytime you feel like stopping by to work on tracks, tour with us . . . ,” Jax begins.

“I’ll just stop by without warning, catch you two bastards unawares,” I kid, doing our handshakes too.

Lionel has seen this coming, I know, since my father was released from prison and I mentioned wanting to be closer to him. Have some time to spend with the only family I got.

“Anything I can do to change your mind?” Lionel asks.

I reach out for Pandora, who’s been standing a bit to the side, giving us some privacy. I grab her by the back of the neck and pull her close to me. “Won’t ever be ready to leave my vixen again.”

“Kenna, but your music . . .”

“My music will always be with me.” I tip her head up, her gaze somehow both dark and playful. “Am I finally going to hear that song you promised to write to me?”

She flushes beet red. “The first one doesn’t fit anymore.”

“Write me another one, then. Better yet, would you like to write one with me?”





TWENTY-FOUR


SPARKLING SHINY NEW LIFE


Pandora


The moment has been testing me to the point that I’m blinking and staring at my nails, my feet. Mackenna Jones leaving Crack Bikini . . .

All this time, I’ve been watching him inside the recording studio, pouring his heart out into the two singles he wants to leave behind. The prickles in the back of my eyes won’t cease. I tried texting with my friends, letting them know I’m coming back home and that . . .

. . . I’m moving in with Mackenna Jones.

Brooke and Melanie nearly burst my cell phone. While Mackenna recorded, the twins hovered by my side. I sensed they were both happy and sad, but mostly sad for themselves, happy for us.

“Always had a thing for you, that guy did,” Lex promises.

Jax jabs a thumb toward his brother. “What he said.”

My smile trembles a little. What can you say? Goodbyes are a bitch, and this is the first time in my life I ever get to have one. No goodbye to Mackenna when he left. None to my father. None to my daughter. This is my first goodbye, and it’s a doozy.

“So have I. And guys,” I add, my voice cracking as I finally admit, “consider me your number-one fan from now on.”

“Awww, she likes us, Jax!” Lex shucks before they both lunge at me. We’re hugging, and when they start playfully squeezing my butt, Mackenna promptly comes out to pull them off me.

“Back off, dweebs.”

That’s when Lex turns to him. “You sure about this, man . . . ?”

And I know Mackenna well enough to know that, tough call or not, he’s very sure about this.





EPILOGUE


Pandora


Seattle is wholly different when you change the lens through which you see it. One day, it’s a place where you got your heart broken. A place that feels lonely even with thousands of people driving, walking past you. One day it is the rainiest, most depressing city in the world. And another day, it’s the place where you want to live the rest of your life. Because it’s the place where you have your little cousin, your friends, your job, and your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend.

Did I just sigh?

Me. Sighing.

Grinning.

Happy, hopeful, forgiving.

How can all this happen in a few months?

I know now, from life, that it takes only a second to break you. But with time, with effort, it takes a little longer, but you can make it. There’s something about someone knowing your deepest, darkest secret and still loving you despite what you did that gives you hope. That makes you want to be better. Never disappoint yourself, and them, ever again.

There’s also something about learning to forgive . . .

Both others, and yourself.

I feel different now. I feel it every morning when I wake. The sense of looking forward to your day. Life doesn’t suck anymore. People don’t suck—well, not everyone.

During our first week back in Seattle, Kenna and I found an apartment close to where we’re opening a rock bar.

The idiot wants to call it Pink, and all my friends—Mel, Brooke, and Kyle—wholeheartedly approve. I’m decorating in my trademark silver and black, and, now that we’re owners of a future establishment, I decorate by day while Mackenna heads to the studio he bought just three floors above.