Rock My Body
Page 53

I trace my fingertips over the stubble on his cheek and stare into his green eyes—eyes that reflect nothing but love as he stares back at me. He’s told me exactly how he feels. There’s no guessing because he shows it in his actions, too, and I wonder if I can ever love him back the same way.
As soon as I allow myself to think about it, the answer swells in my chest. Yes. Yes, I can love him back because he’s been nothing but kind and loving to me since we met. How can I not admit that I feel the same way about him?
I smile just before I whisper, “I love you, too.”
He picks me up in his arms, and he spins us around before he sets me back on my feet and cradles my face in his hands. “I’m going to make you happy, Frannie. I swear it.”
It’s then that I realize my mistake. All this time I never understood that in order to find love again, all I had to do was open up my heart to the possibility of it.
“Nobody Knows” – The Tony Rich Project
It’s been a long time since I’ve felt like my life had true direction—even longer since I was in a situation that made me happy, without it having anything to do with Black Falcon.
It’s hard to admit, but it took me finding Frannie and going through some majorly fucked-up shit before I could relate to what the rest of my band mates were experiencing. I finally understand why Black Falcon sometimes took a backseat to the things going on in their personal lives.
The time has finally come where I’m ready to reconnect with the guys. To sit down and have a heart-to-heart about everything that’s been going on. I’m ready to sit down and open up about my feelings and tell them exactly what pushed me over the edge.
It’s time they knew exactly how bad my anxiety is.
Trip answers his phone on the second ring. “Brother! How are things in the big house? Bubba make you his bitch yet?”
I roll my eyes. My brother is an absolute idiot. “Fuck you, dude. It’s rehab, not prison.”
Asshole.
He snickers into the phone. “Oh right, my bad.” Trip pauses for a long moment before he asks, “You clean and sober yet?”
I adjust the phone against my ear. “I haven’t been this clearheaded in a long time. I’ve confronted a lot of issues here, but we still need to talk—really talk. I think I’m finally ready to have a sit-down with you and the guys. I’m ready to listen to whatever you guys have to say. To show you guys that I’m back and ready to be a part of this band.”
“It’s about fucking time!” Trip exclaims. “I need the mad scientist back in the lab with me. This new album is going to be sick with you laying down the melodies and lyrics.”
I smile, glad that we’re almost back to the way we used to be. No bickering or finger pointing—
just being brothers and talking music.
We sit in silence for a moment and a thought rushes to mind. “Do you think the guys would be willing to come here?”
“So we can all sit down and talk? Yeah, man. I think they’d do anything to help you get better. Riff and Noel love you, too. They might not tell you like I do, but we all care about you, Tyke.”
I rub the back of my neck as a single tear falls from my eye. “You know, you can be an all right bastard sometimes.”
Trip chuckles into the phone. “I have my moments. Speaking of moments, what’s going on with you and your hot doctor lady?”
I sigh and lean back in my chair. “I’m in love, man.”
“In love? Shut the fuck up! No shit? Wow.” Even I can hear the wonder in his voice. “It’s about fucking time. You aren’t getting any younger over there.”
I laugh. “Fuck you, dude. Twenty-seven isn’t old. I’m in my fucking prime. Speaking of prime . . . there’s something else I need to tell you.”
“Shit? What?” His tone suddenly growing serious. “I don’t like when you say shit like that because it’s usually followed by bad fucking news.”
“Well, it’s not bad, exactly, just . . . unexpected,” I tell him.
“Hot doctor lady is knocked-up, isn’t she?” he asks, but the inflection of his voice makes it seem like he already knew.
“She is,” I answer honestly. “And it’s mine.”
“Wow. Goes to rehab to get straightened up and comes back with a woman and kid. Weren’t you pissed at Noel and Riff for this very thing?”
I run my fingers through my shaggy blond hair. “I guess I didn’t fucking get it before—the whole wife and kids thing. I didn’t understand how anything could ever be more important than the music, you know. It’s taken me getting into the same situation to see just how things change when you fall in love. I owe Noel and Riff both a huge-ass apology—you, too. I’m sorry, Trip. I’m sorry for giving you shit over Holly. I’m truly happy that you’ve got her.”
Trip sniffs on the other end of the line. “Shit, man. Now you’ve gone and made me turn on the fucking waterworks like a pussy. Thank you. You don’t know how fucking nice it is to hear you say that. It’s good to have you back, brother.”
I smile. “It’s good to be back.”
If I keep pacing back and forth like this, I’m going to wear off the gray paint on the porch floor. It’s hard to recall a time when I’ve felt this nervous. Trip and the guys were already in Kentucky when I talked to my brother yesterday, so they were all game for driving out to Serenity today. Now is my time to prove to the band that I’m clearheaded and worthy of their trust again. I hope they can see that I’ve changed in the weeks that I’ve been here and welcome me back into the fold, without the crazy tension we had before.