Chapter 58

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

TAM

31 bobas left until we both die … (the same day)

This is the first time I’ve ever felt the urge to risk everything. You are worth that to me. That’s what I’m thinking when I step out of the dressing room in my street clothes to find Lake waiting for me in … oh fuck. No wonder she’s been hiding from me for the rest of the concert.

She’s got on an iconic hoodie of mine—it’s royal blue and black in a checkerboard pattern, but the back is made of sheer black fabric and is entirely see-through—and pants that say how much she hearts me right over her soft, plump ass.

I roll my lips inward, and then exhale. I squeeze my hands into fists on either side of me. Right. Self-control. I used to have it. Not sure that I do anymore. I lean down, sweeping hair behind Lake’s ear before I whisper: “you do know that the back of that sweater is see-through, right?”

I snag a sip of her bubble tea—it’s a good one tonight—and then stand up, folding my arms over my chest.

“Your whole crew’s already seen my bra,” she admits with a loose shrug of her shoulders. “What’s it matter now?”

I walk in a half-circle around her, pausing to stare down at the visible back strap through the fabric. Then I remember how this girl came right up to the window when I was sitting in the SUV, wearing only lingerie, a jacket, and sneakers. Didn’t even care.

I love that about her.

But I do care.

“Hmm.” I slip my jacket off my shoulders and toss it over hers. Interestingly enough, it’s the same jacket that I offered her when she was kicking the hot dog costume. Same lingerie. Same jacket. Same Lake.

Completely different Tam.

I’ve broken open on the inside, all of these new feelings and wants, urges and desires, fears and longing, it’s all twisting up into songs and lyrics and rhythms and choreo. I want to create in the name of all these feelings, so that I can share how wonderful they are with the entire world.

“Jealous, much?” Lake responds, but she doesn’t give the jacket back to me. I catch sight of that guy—Leo—skirting around the edges of the room, doing his best to avoid me. I smirk and give a little laugh, and then Lake slaps me in the chest. “Pay attention. What’s our plan now?”

“Plan?” I shrug. I have a plan, but I’m not saying anything here, not with Jacob around. “There’s no plan. Back to the house?” I cock a brow. We had to helicopter in today because the traffic was so bad, and the paparazzi were even worse.

Lake was stunned to learn that I not only have a landing pad on my property, but that we’d actually use a helicopter to get me from the house to the stadium. Not unusual. Happens all the time.

“You’re lucky: you were late, and you were inappropriate, but your fans loved it.” Jacob shoves his iPad into my hands, and I look down to see that tonight’s show is trending. I click on one of the posts and scroll to the comments.

Dude, did Tam get hotter? Is that even possible?!

Is it me or does he look like he just got some backstage? Mmmm. So sexy.

Did you guys see his girlfriend? Deer in the headlights stare. New outfit. HIS hoodie. And her neck!!!!!

I hand the iPad back to Jacob, and then I reach out to snatch the edge of the hoodie. Lake slaps at my hand, but she’s holding her precious boba, and she can’t stop me when I use both of mine to pull her hoodie down.

Her neck.

“Holy shit.” I feel the blood drain from my face. Sure, I meant to leave my mark, but not like that. “Are you okay, Kayak?” I ask, and then I tug a handkerchief from my pocket, steal a water bottle from Maggie, and pour cool water on it. I press the cloth to the side of Lake’s neck, and her entire face goes beet red.

“Just fine, Sir Tom.” She slaps her hand over the handkerchief and takes a step away from me. I run my hand over my hair. If I haven’t hurt her, then I’m pleased by the sight. If I have, then I deserve a swift kick in the nuts.

“You’re sure?” I ask as people scurry around us, doing the million jobs that need to be done before, during, and after every show. Sometimes, I feel like I have it easy. I just show up. Lake nods in response to my question, and I move over to the stool where she was sitting to collect her other drinks for her. I think I might steal the strawberry one. “Because if you’re okay, then … I love that the whole world knows you’re mine tonight.”

I make sure to whisper that. I don’t need every single thing I say to Lakelynn to become a meme.

“I love that, too,” she admits, and I can’t fight back the grin.

We walk together down the hall, Daniel and Jacob trailing behind.

Before we go outside, I put Lake’s hood up, zip the jacket in the front, and then we run. We sprint down the cleared path between two surges of heaving, screaming fangirls (and some fanboys) and into the SUV.

Lake and I sit in the back, fingers entwined, each of us sipping on a boba.

All is normal and good until we get back to the house. Daniel clears it for us. Jacob uses the bathroom like he always does after a show (he refuses to use public toilets most of the time).

“Hey,” I tell Lake, licking my lips and watching to make sure that Daniel has slipped back outside. I look back at my girlfriend, all cute and bundled up in my clothes, nursing her final bubble tea. She was wearing a T-shirt today that read: You Are the Boba to my Tea! with a pair of kissing anime characters. I almost tore it off her and took her up against the side of the helicopter. Wait, what was I going to say to her again? I shake my head and put my hands on her shoulders. “I need you to come with me.”

She looks confused, but she follows when I snatch Jake’s keys off the counter. I had Maggie arrange for our bags to be packed and put in the back of Jacob’s car. He just doesn’t know that yet. Nobody does which is sort of the whole point.

How else are we supposed to get out of here and go to Arkansas? The only chance we have of being able to spend time at Lake’s family home is if the whole world is convinced that we’re holed up in here.

“Get in,” I tell Lake, opening the passenger door for her. She looks at me, at the car, grins. She hops in and has her seat belt fastened before I can even close the door.

I sprint to the other side—even if I know Jake’s after-concert bathroom breaks always take way longer than they should—and we’re out of there before anyone realizes that we’ve gone. I stop halfway down the drive and reach into the bag that I also instructed Maggie to pack for me.

Ballcaps.

Sunglasses.

Face masks.

Scarves.

Glasses.

We don’t need every item right this very second, but maybe later. I’m so in love with this girl that I believe what she’s telling me about the curse. I believe that if I don’t get her to fall in love with me, we’ll both die. I’ll use any trick necessary to save her life. I’ve already asked my mom to cancel everything between now and that final concert, the one that’s being filmed for the docuseries.

It’s going to be me and Lake and the open road.

If … we can get past the paparazzi.

“Hey,” I tell her, turning in my seat. Lake turns to look back at me. Her eyes are sparkling. I found my partner in crime, I think, and I’ve never felt a better emotion in my entire life. Not ever. I see why music, art, and books are dedicated to love. It’s heady. “Can I ask you to do something really weird, something that only Tam Eyre or a serial killer would ever ask you?”

“You may,” Lake says, struggling to keep her face neutral. She wants to smile or laugh, but she’s trying to take this seriously. “What is it?”

“Can you squeeze onto the floor in front of your seat so that nobody will know you’re in here with me? They recognize Jacob’s car, and they don’t harass him nearly as much. If we can get out of here, they won’t follow us.”

Lake cocks a brow.

“That doesn’t sound very serial killer-y to me,” she says, pretending to be disappointed.

“That’s not the serial killer part.” I reach into my door and pull out a black trash bag. “Can you cover yourself with this? I meant to ask Maggie for a blanket, but I forgot. This was just in here.”

Lake stares at me.

“Jacob had a random roll of black garbage bags in his door? Now, that really is serial killer material.” She takes the bag, rips it open, and curls into a ball on the floor, dragging the plastic over herself.

This is the dumbest fucking plan ever.

I yank on a beanie and a pair of fake glasses, flip my visor down, and then I hit the gas.

We use the front gate because it’d be more suspicious if ‘Jacob’ left the property the back way.

That means the crowd is thick. And I’m heading out there without Daniel. I could be killed.

I press the gas down a little more, but I can’t go too fast or I’ll hit someone.

Nobody tries to stop me, and I heave a sigh of relief at the end of the block.

“Give it two minutes, and you can get back in your seat. It stresses me out that you’re sitting on the floor anyway.” I tap my hand on the steering wheel for a minute. “Wait. Don’t tell your brother about this. He might try to punch me.”

“Might?” Lake mumbles from under the plastic. “Oh, he will definitely punch you.”

“He can try,” I repeat, checking in the rearview mirror to make sure that nobody is following us. “Okay, clear.”

Lake emerges with a groan and a little stretch. When she puts her seat belt back on and rests her hands in her lap, I relax a little.

“That was fun,” she admits, smiling to herself.

But her eyes, they’re on the mark on her left wrist, the ragged heart-shaped constellation etched into her skin at birth. I can’t decide if I’m lucky because I got to learn that magic is real as a grown-ass adult or … if I’m being punished for something.

No. If I were being punished, I wouldn’t have met Lakelynn.

Knowing her for any period of time is better than never having met her at all.

I’m lucky.

It’s magic.

“Ugh, my neck,” Lake complains absently, rubbing at it.

We both go weirdly silent.

“Yeah, I’ve got painkillers in my wallet,” I tell her, sitting up so that she can dig it out of my back pocket. Pretty sure she gropes me, but I was hoping for that anyway, so I’m not upset. I sit back down, a little smirk on my lips that matches the smirk on hers.

Too bad we’re on the run or I’d fuck her every hour or so during the drive.

“Don’t even go there,” she warns me, as if she can read my thoughts. I lift a brow in question. “You know what I mean. We’re not having sex at a rest stop. Between the ordinary families passing through, and the total creepers hiding in the bushes, I could not think of a worse place.”

“I wasn’t thinking of fucking you at a rest stop,” I tell her, glancing over. “I was thinking of fucking you in a hotel suite.”

We make it four and a half hours before the first stop.

30 bobas left until we both die …

“Joules and I struggled with this last time,” Lake explains to me, standing on the side of the road in this deserted spot in the middle of nowhere. Honestly, I’m unsettled by this drive. I’ve been all over the world, but I’ve never just driven like this. Except, you know, for that ten hours I went to give Lake head.

This time, it’s going to take more than twenty-two hours, and it’s so remote and desolate and quiet out here that I’ve got the chills.

“Struggled with what?” I ask, finally getting the slow-ass vending machine to give me a water. It’s hot as hell out here in … Arizona? Is this Arizona? I frown and look around, like I might be able to ascertain which desert this is by staring at the scraggly bushes.

“Finding boba places during the drive that are open when we pass through town. I might have to get myself a cherry Coke and pretend it’s a boba.” That’s exactly what Lake does, marching over to me and then patting her pockets down in search of her wallet.

“I’m not sure if I have quarters—” she starts, like she truly grew up not only in a different world than I did, but also in a completely different time period.

I swipe my credit card on the machine to add a credit, and then gesture with my chin.

“Get some cherry Coke and some cherry licorice. Your man will pay.”

Lake laughs at that.

“God, remember how dumb you were at the restaurant in Portland?” she asks, her laughter doubling as she tries to get the memory out. Her palm slams into the faded, cloudy button, and the machine spits out a cold, dewy can. My eyes fall on Lake’s bruised neck. All that, just from kissing? I want to soothe it all with my tongue.

“I was dumb? Because Joules was trying to show me who was boss, and I wouldn’t let him do it?”

“You guys are gross together,” she tells me, and then she steals my credit card from my fingers, swipes it again, buys her licorice. The pack gets stuck, and she kicks it to get it to come out. I would’ve just paid again and pressed the button for another one. “You and Joules are like …” Lake turns to me, sweat beading on her Tam-kissed throat. It’s hot as fuck out here. “Unneutered male dogs.”

“I’m an unneutered dog now?” I’m shocked as I look her over, but she’s just laughing at me again. “I swear to God, Lake. You have no idea how hard I’m going to spank you tonight.”

I follow her back to our car—the only one in the parking lot—and we both climb in, cursing at the hot leather under our asses. It’s been baking in here while we’ve been enjoying some fresh air.

After stopping at that hotel and getting naked together, we took a little nap and got right back to driving. We’ve been driving nonstop since, taking turns to sleep. The farther we drive, the more I can see in her eyes how determined Lake is to get back to her family.

It’s her turn again, so I begrudgingly take the passenger’s side. I’d drive the whole way if she’d let me.

First thing I do is ball up my sweater and pretend like I’m going to take a nap.

I’ve done this a couple of times. When she thinks I’m asleep, I’ll crack one eye to see what she’s doing when nobody’s looking. Usually, Lake looks … sad. She doesn’t seem sad right now, but I know she’s having trouble keeping her mind off Joe. Off our own curse. Off the possible Joules-Kaycee situation that she told me about while we drove this morning.

This time isn’t any different. After about fifteen minutes of driving, it happens. Lake glances over at me, tapping her fingers on the wheel. I make sure my eyes stay closed.

“Tam?” she asks, but I don’t respond.

Next time I crack my lids, I see it, that melancholy and fear etched into her mouth, in the tightness around her eyes. When she reaches up and swipes the start of a tear, I almost lose it. I should give her space; I’ll just let her have this time to herself.

Wait.

I frown and sit up, and Lake wiggles around in her seat like she’s been caught doing something bad.

“You told me to obliterate your space, right? You look upset. Want to talk about it?”

“I … feel like an idiot.” She blushes. “Who wouldn’t fall in love with you overnight, Tam Eyre? You’re a whole lot of special.”

“A whole lot o’ special?” I repeat, taking on a bit of a twang. She didn’t say it quite like that, but she almost did. There’s the vaguest hint of a Southern accent when she says certain things. I’m not sure if Arkansas is part of the Midwest or the South or … is it in tornado alley? I don’t know that either. “Why are you so cute?”

“Is that what I am?” she asks, voice taking on a teasing lilt so that she can move us away from more sensitive subjects without my noticing. I almost miss it here, too. “A cute girl who knows how to stay true to herself?”

“Did I say that?” I’m confused. Lake sighs dramatically. It’s almost the official Tambourine slogan—cute, confident & true to ourselves—but I don’t think that’s what she means.

“You did. In a viral video. You told the interviewer that you liked cute girls who know how to stay true to themselves. Or something like that. It was dumb.” Lake chuckles, and I narrow my eyes.

“Nice try.” I fold my arms and turn to look out the window again. “You said you felt like an idiot because you’re not in love with me. It’s okay. Love happens at different times for different people.”

“You weren’t supposed to fall first,” she mumbles, and I give her an incredulous look in response.

“So, you don’t want me to be in love with you? I thought that was the end goal for every move you were making.”

“It was!” Lake says, slapping a hand against the wheel and worrying at her lip. I put my fingers out to stop her, and she bites me. Gently. With a flick of the eyes that has my pants getting tight in the front. I pull my hand back and press a kiss on my own fingers, right over that bite. Lake shivers. “It was, but now I’m just worried that … maybe we’re having too much sex, and we don’t know each other well enough yet.”

Lake reaches into one of the cup holders and pulls out a box that I saw her digging from her bag at the last rest stop. I take it when she hands it over, reading the text on the outside. It’s a conversation deck, you know the ones that have questions on every card. Ah. Too much sex. Time to get to know each other.

I lift the lid on the deck and pull out a card.

“So, we’ll talk in addition to having sex, hmm?” I tease, reading the question on my own card and then raising a brow. Okay. Maybe Lake wasn’t aware that there was an Intimate Questions add-on pack in this box. “Do you like your ass played with?”

“What?!” Lakelynn doesn’t swerve, but her eyes are a little wide. “Okay, so it was in the box. That’s fair. I saw that there was an Intimate Questions addition.”

“You did know, huh?” I turn toward her, fanning my face with the card. “Answer it then. I want to know. We haven’t … gone in that direction before.”

Granted, we were both virgins all of a month ago.

“My … ass?” Lake narrows her eyes in thought, rubs her chin. “My cheeks, yeah. The, uh, not the other bit.”

I nod. I can empathize with that.

“Same.” I file the card away and pick another. This one is about sports. I’ll be the first to admit that I know next to nothing about sports. “Do you have a favorite football team?”

“Razorbacks,” Lake says with a chuckle, and I just stare at her. “The University of Arkansas.” She glances over to see me looking at her like we’re strangers. I guess we still are, but that doesn’t change how I feel about her. Even now, about to die from the curse, this is the happiest I’ve been in years. “What? Arkansas doesn’t have an NFL team, so … college football.”

“College football.” Wow. This deck was a great idea. “I don’t even know the name of a football team. Sorry.”

“Not even one?” Lake retorts, and I shrug, rifling through the deck for another card. “Makes sense. You’ve been busy with your career.”

“I don’t have much to talk about, do I? Besides my job. Or reading. I spend all my time working out, learning dances, writing music. You’re more interesting than I am.” Ah. How about I pick a card at random? I read it out before Lake can respond. “If you were to—”

I stop reading.

If you were to die tomorrow, how would you like to be buried?

I check the side of the box again. It claims to include two dozen different categories including Intimate Queries, Pop Culture, and even a card type known as Morbid Curiosity. Alright then.

“Read it,” Lake tells me when I try to switch the card out for another. “No matter what it is, it won’t bother me.”

“This might,” I warn her, but she shakes her head. I wet my lips. Alright then. “If you were to die tomorrow, how would you like to be buried?”

Lake grins at that, giving me a look and raising both her brows.

“Easy. I want to be turned into dirt, same as Joe. Dark humor is a Frost family tradition. Never be afraid to bring up death or make a horrible joke about it.” Lake is watching the road again. I can’t help but notice that she’s not tense at all anymore, like maybe talking to me—even about death—is making things better. “What about you?”

“Buried in the same cemetery as my dad,” I say automatically, but now that I know about this human composting thing, now that I’ve seen the tree … Shit. I need to email my mom next chance I get and have my will changed. Just in case. “Or like what you said.”

“There’s even a process where they can turn your body into water. It’s called alkaline hydrolysis or water cremation. Pretty cool, huh?” Lake reaches into the center console for her licorice. I grab it for her and tear the top open, hand it back.

I turn to the road, and I’m quiet for a while.

One of the things I love about Lake is that she lets me be quiet, gives me the time I need to think. She does it, too, spaces off like I do, mind churning, heart thundering. We’re alike in the best possible ways.

“That is pretty cool,” I answer finally, realizing that no matter how it happens, I feel like it’d be nice if we were together. “If the curse takes us, can I be dirt, too? I’d like to join Joe’s tree.”

Lake doesn’t say anything for a while, eating her licorice. When I look over at her, I see that she’s smiling but also that there are tears tracking down her cheeks.

“I’d like that a lot,” she whispers back, reaching out her hand for mine. Lake sniffles a little. “Hey, did you know that the word boba is a slang word for breasts? Because of the shape of the tapioca balls?” She smiles even wider through her tears.

I loosen my seat belt, lean over, and gently kiss the liquid from her soft cheek.