I was going to say all of that. Do all of that. I had a plan, but that apple cart got tipped over with my mother’s frantic phone call. Shit’s been rolling at my feet, out of my reach and control, getting away from me ever since.

And now I cannot fucking breathe. My lungs constrict, and the air I keep pulling in through my nose and blowing out of my mouth doesn’t help. Doesn’t relieve this suffocation of guilt and desperation. They wrap around my face like a clinging plastic bag.

“ . . . cold, heartless, mercenary bastard.”

Those words pound in my head like hard rain. Like a hailstorm of things I wish I’d never said, but can’t take back. That I may never get a chance to apologize for.

I wander into the cafeteria, not really even remembering how I got here. Maybe a cup of coffee will do me some good. I’m studying the menu up on the wall when someone squeals behind me.

“Oh my gah!” A brown-haired girl wearing—I kid you not—a T-shirt that says “Mrs. Rhyson Gray” on the front, explodes into my personal space. Her hands are on my shoulders. She’s kissing my cheeks and chin and any part of me her eager body can reach. I’m too tired to freak out. Between the physical exhaustion of the trip and the emotional turmoil of the last few hours, she could shank me where I stand and I’d barely muster enough energy to bleed.

“Jillyyyyyyyyy!” The girl bounces on her toes. “Jilly, come here quick!”

Jilly rushes over, phone already aimed at me.

“Hey, could you not take my—”

Snap and flash before I can finish my request.

“I am your absolute biggest fan,” Mrs. Rhyson Gray gushes. “I saw you in Philadelphia last year and I drove to Boston too. I’m so excited about the tour. I already have my tickets for your show in New York. Would you sign my T-shirt? Jilly, a pen! A pen!”

Jilly is so handy with the pen, I want to ask if she has a paper bag somewhere on her person I could borrow to breathe into. The pen is in my hand and poised over the girl’s nipple. I give her my “are you kidding me?” face before raising the pen a few inches to sign on her shoulder.

“Girls, my dad’s here sick.” I give Jilly her pen back and hope they’ll cooperate. “I kind of want some privacy for my family. If the media finds out I’m here, it’ll just be a circus. Could you not post that picture or say anything about seeing me here for a while?”

“I’m so sorry.” Jilly looks contrite, yet proud. “I’m really fast. I already tweeted it.”

“Well, that just happened,” I reason. “You could delete the tweet, right?”

“I cross post.” She holds up her bedazzled phone. “It’s such a pain when you have to do all the platforms individually, you know? So I’ve connected all mine.”

“All?” I slide my clenched fists into my pocket. “What we talking here?”

“Just Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, and tumblr.” She snaps her fingers. “Oh, and Pinterest.”

A few years ago, I would have ripped these girls a new one. My space, my privacy, my choices were out of my hands so young that I take as much of it back as I can every chance I get. Used to be when that was violated, I’d lash out. It only took Grady witnessing one such episode to change all that. That lecture on humility and how I owe all my success to my fans, well, it’s an hour of my life I’ll never get back. Nor do I want to relive.

“I gotta go, girls.” I manage a smile for Mrs. Rhyson Gray. “See you in New York.”

I need to get back and let Bristol know we may have a situation. We got here without much fanfare, but there’s no way I’ll get out the same way. Not with little Miss Cross Post on the job. We had a small security detail in Chicago, but didn’t bring them with us home. We should get someone down here fast.

I’m just about to turn the corner back into the waiting room, when Bristol’s voice reaches me. It’s sharp and heavy like a butcher knife. Whoever she’s talking to is lucky to still have a head.

“This is a family matter.” Bristol’s voice is slightly louder than it should be.

“Bristol, you can’t—” Grady says, but Bristol cuts into his words.

“Why is she here? She should leave before Mother lands. It will only upset her having an outsider here.”

My mother wasn’t with my father when he collapsed. Bertie alerted her, and she caught a flight from the conference she was attending in Amsterdam. She’ll be here soon. So who’s the outsider? Paps? Jilly couldn’t have gone viral that fast. I hang back until I know what I’m walking into.

“Look, I don’t know what I did to make you dislike me,” a soft but firm voice says. “But it’s obvious something about me bothers you. We can deal with that another time. I really don’t much care.”

I’d know that voice, that accent, as thick and sweet as molasses, anywhere. When I round the corner, Kai and Bristol face off. It should be no contest. Bristol is several inches taller than Kai, but Pep isn’t intimidated. Not backing down. She has her hands on her hips, and her dark eyes hold steady and hard like flint.

“I’m not here for you, Bristol. I’m here for Rhyson. He can tell me to go. If he . . .” Uncertainty briefly flickers across her face. “Well, if he doesn’t want me here, of course I’ll leave. If he wants me to stay, then I’m staying.”

I walk fully into the waiting room, and Kai catches my eyes just over Bristol’s shoulder. The last time we were together, we argued, we had sex, and she pushed me away. Maybe I handled things the wrong way. Maybe she overreacted. Truth be told, right now I don’t care. I’m just glad she’s here, and I make sure she knows that immediately.

“I want you.”

I walk up to her, ignoring Bristol’s frown and irritated sigh.

Kai reaches up and wraps her arms around my neck, tucking her head into my shoulder. She’s like the eye of the storm. Chaos all around, but right here, in her arms, at the center, peace. Unreasonable, undeniable peace. I grip her tightly like my lungs grip air, because for the first time since my mother called, I can finally breathe.

I see Grady standing there and mouth “thank you.” He had his doubts about me pursuing Kai in the beginning, but I think I showed him over the last few months that I don’t just want a quick screw. Do I even know what I want with her? I’m not sure. I know it’s more than what I’ve ever had with anyone else. I know that even with my father fighting for his life beyond those double doors, just having her here where I can touch her and see her, makes me feel better.

“Are you okay?” She settles back down on her feet, her slim fingers pushing my hair back and her eyes worried on my face.

I just knew the first time we saw each other would be awkward. I’d have to convince her that I was right and she was wrong. We’d circle each other warily, and then I’d convince her we should be together. I can’t entertain any other option. We’d end up in her bed savoring all the things we missed about each other the first time we made love on the pool table. But this situation with my dad eliminates the awkwardness. It means so much that even though she needed space, she set that aside when I needed her.

“I’m dealing.” I set my hands around her tiny waist. I’ve missed being this close to her for the last week. I lean down and pull her up onto her toes until I lose myself in her one-of-a-kind scent, and my lips brush her ear. “I missed you so damn bad this week.”

She goes still against me, gripping the lapels of my jacket. She nods her head against my chest without looking up. Now isn’t the time for what I want to say. She knows it too. I force myself to focus on what we have to get through before I can dive into Kai and drown for a while. I step away, even though my body misses hers right away.

“Bris, we may have some press on us.” I force myself to look away from Kai and refocus on what we’re dealing with.

“We’ve been pretty careful.” Bristol reaches for the laptop stowed beneath her seat.