Rock Stars like to have fun. Fangirls. Fast times. No promises. No commitments.
What happens when Soundcrush Frontman Leed Lawson decides no girl will do but the girl who has always been out of reach?
Ashlynn Ballard waited five torturous years fo...
Okay, we haven't seen a picture of Cam in this series, have we? I imagine he's pretty adorable:
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Ashlynn, ten minutes ago
Walking Cameron back to bed doesn't feel like reality. It feels like deja-vu. I feel like I'm high.
Now, Cam has collapsed into the bed, and I've got the covers over him. He's shivering, and I'm holding his hand. He's stroking his thumb on mine, just like the first time he held my hand. And just like the last.
But something's wrong inside me. I don't feel what I should be feeling. I should me feeling...more for his situation, but all I can do right now is work the problem.
My head is pulsing with a hundred ways in which I can make him feel better. I adjust his pillows.I sit closer, my hip against his side. I glance at the bedside table. He has water and two pill bottles, and I'm sure my mother has made him take his medications. I offer him the water, and he dutifully takes a sip. From the grimace, I know he can barely stomach it. I lay my other hand on his head, stroking his hair.
He smiles at that, and I smile back, but I can't feel it. Not like I used to.
What's wrong with me? Cam is horribly sick and he needs someone to care for him and there is no one on this whole damn planet that should be feeling more for him in this moment—in this situation—than me.
He was so loving, so sweet, so good to me, for the nearly seven years we were together. He never did a single thing wrong. It was just that life fucked us. I know he loved me, and I loved him. Our intimate life wasn't all that super hot, but that's not the only measure of love. I have loved Cam since I was fifteen years old, and I know what I have to do now.
I have to take care of him, because I still love him, even if I don't feel it like I used to.
When I look at him, my mind is made up, but my spirit refuses to cooperate with the task. It feels like my heart is stabbed full of Novocaine.
That's kind of strange, considering all the years I self-medicated to kill not only the pain in my head but my feelings for Cam. Now the feelings of love have faded naturally, because there is just not room for them. I'm entirely filled with loving Leed.
"You shouldn't be here," he says, wearily searching my face. I open my mouth, but he squeezes my hand to stall my words. "You shouldn't be here, but I'm selfish, and I'm glad you are. It's...it's going to get rough, and I can't imagine your mom..."
"Shhhhh..." I coo. "You're pretty sick, Cam, and you have a right to be selfish. I'll take care of you. Whatever you need, until you are better." I will. He's right. He needs me. I know exactly how rough it's going to get. What kinds of things Cam did for me, when I was hurting too badly or too high to take care of myself. Of course he wants someone who knows him...intimately.
He closes his eyes. Without their dark warmth, his face seems grayer. "You have to take care of yourself."
"I can do both. I've got my self-care down to a science, now. I'm good. You just have to trust me that I know how to balance things."
