Rockstar Romeo - Abbie Zanders Page 0,69
long enough to be worth the grief Ross would give her.
The only thing that kept me from completely going over the edge was Ross’s acknowledgment that Eva had been checking in daily with Brian and Tommy. I’d called in every favor I could, but autographs and concert tickets only got me so far, and unfortunately for me, Eva was as good at ghosting as she was at promoting.
Jackie and Eric’s wedding went on as planned. Since it was the second for both of them, it was a laid-back, casual affair with none of the pomp and circumstance they’d had with their first weddings. Through it all, I smiled and danced and did my part. I was a performer, after all, and a damn good one at that. On the inside, however, I was in turmoil, a churning sea of angst and grim determination.
There were a few things I knew for certain. First, I was in love with Eva. Hopelessly, desperately in love with her. I knew to the depths of my soul that she was it for me.
Secondly, I believed it worked both ways. Eva felt the same undeniable connection I did. The difference was, she refused to openly acknowledge it for what it was.
Eva had been hurt in the past, and as such, her ability to trust had taken a severe blow. I got that. However, I was not Ian Flynn, and I resented the fact that she’d lumped me into the same homogenous, man-whoring, groupie-banging, weak-willed category simply because we’d chosen the same profession.
Here was where it got tricky. I thought Eva’s reasoning went deeper than simple mistrust; that was just an easy, convenient excuse. I thought Eva had left not because she wanted to protect herself, but because she loved me enough to let me go. Somewhere along the line, she’d come up with the fucktarded idea that I’d be happier without her in the long run.
Delusional? Maybe. But I knew that I loved her enough to walk away if I thought for one second that A) that was what she truly wanted and B) that it was the best thing for her—which, clearly, I didn’t. Taking it one step further, if I believed that Eva really did feel the same way about me as I felt about her, then it made sense that she would be willing to do the same.
That led to the third thing I knew for certain: that I would not give up until I convinced Eva that she was the most important thing in my life. Not touring. Not performing. Her.
The biggest issue was, how could I prove that to her when I couldn’t reach her?
The answer hit me like a bolt of lightning. But first, I needed to call my guys.
~ * ~
Eva
I hadn’t planned on staying with my parents for the remainder of my time off, but it was beginning to look as if that was exactly what I would do. I had no desire to head back to my empty house or to return to the office before I absolutely had to. I was appreciating the downtime and the much-slower pace of Bear Run. It gave me a chance to lick my wounds and come to terms with things.
I’d gotten into somewhat of a routine. I’d get up early and help my parents prep for the day. There was solace to be found in the kneading and punching of dough, satisfaction in achieving the perfect consistency, and instant gratification in the final products fresh out of the oven.
Once the bakery opened, I’d remain in the back and do cleanup while my parents took care of business up front, and then I’d spend the rest of the day doing things around their house and yard, much like I had when I lived here and had a chore list.
I cooked, I cleaned, I ran errands, and I weeded the vegetable garden and flower beds—anything to keep from lying in my room, staring at the ceiling and feeling sorry for myself.
At night, I’d have dinner with my parents, and then afterward, I’d go for long walks around town. I made the most of it while I could. The local harvest festival was scheduled for the weekend, and I’d promised my parents I’d stick around for that. Afterward, I’d be heading back to LA.
I was settling in for the night when my phone vibrated and the opening riff from “Fallen Angel” rang out. Ross had been pretty good about texting me instead of