Free The Problem With Heartache by Lauren K. McKellar Page B

the same.”
    “Do you miss that side of him?”
    “Yes. No. Everything.” She sighed, her head turning to face the window again. Cars sped past, the ocean a glimmer of turquoise in the background. It really was a pretty trip. “He’s still protective, and he still loves me. Sometimes it can just be hard to remember, when you have to protect him.”
    I nodded. “Yeah. Not even … not even against physical things. But sometimes protect him against things people say, or do.” I’d sure had a lot of defending my dad from stranger’s looks since Parkinson’s had tightened its ugly hold around my father’s neck.
    “Exactly.” Kate smiled again. She rested her head against the windowpane and closed her eyes. “Do you miss things your dad used to do?”
    “Sure.” As I spoke the word, a pang hit me in my chest. “I miss talking on the phone, having a really decent conversation, you know?”
    Her eyes fluttered open, and she leaned forward. “Yes! And you feel bad, for not being able to fill in the blanks …”
    “Or understand each word.” I finished, and we shared a knowing look. I’d never really spoken about Dad like this with anyone. Sharing it with Kate … it just felt so right. “And then you feel bad for feeling bad. Because you know that they would hate to be felt sorry for, that they shouldn’t be a responsibility, someone you feel you have to fill silences in for, but someone you should enjoy silence with.”
    Kate puffed out a long breath, and looked at me up from under her eyelashes. “You know, for a rock star, you’re a pretty wise man, Lee Collins.”
    This time, my chest didn’t ache. My heart did instead. It burned.
    “You can just call me Lee,” I said in a voice so soft, I wasn’t sure if she heard me. She slowly let her eyes drift shut again, and I stood up and walked back to my seat, turning my head to look at the mountains flying past as we cruised along.
    Seconds later, my cell phone beeped. I picked it up, seeing Kate’s name on the screen, and turned to look at her. She was smiling, her cell tucked tightly under arm.
     
    Kate: Your silence is safe with me, Lee.
     
    I knew exactly what she meant, and we spent the rest of the trip quiet, occasionally opening our eyes, occasionally smiling. For the first time in I had no idea how long, I felt as if someone truly understood.
     

     
    “Lee, open up!” Kate banged on the hotel room door. I smirked, and ruffled Jay’s hair. He gave me a small, shy smile. We’d been running around my suite playing wrestling while Lottie went and got the band some new clothes for a photo shoot we had lined up later that afternoon. It was the first time I’d ever been alone with him, and we’d kind of been having fun, much to my surprise. I was stoked.
    Kate probably wasn’t, though. This wasn’t the first time she had knocked.
    In fact—I gave a quick glance at my watch—she’d almost been at it for three minutes now. I looked down and shrugged. I wasn’t wearing a shirt, but since seeing her blush that first day, I’d almost made a point of trying to find ways to go shirtless around Kate. Watching her blush was just too much fun.
    Punctuating each step with a light pant—seriously, for a small kid, Jay could really run—I walked over to the entranceway. I wrenched open the door and she stood there, clipboard pressed against her chest, looking fresh as a goddamn daisy, as per usual. She looked me up and down, and I wiped my sweaty palms against my jeans before using one to usher her in.
    “I don’t need to …”
    “Sure, come in.” I closed the door behind her and walked over to a lounge, sitting down and throwing my hands over my head. “I’m screwed,” I moaned, my eyes shut.
    Silence.
    I squinted one eye open, then the other, to find Kate looking at me, eyes wide, jaw practically on the floor. Or, I say looking at me . Really, she was looking at my bare, sweaty chest. I couldn’t help but grin.
    “I meant from chasing