Raw Need

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded. It had felt good to say. So good, that she was 100 percent certain that it was the right thing for her. She had relationships to repair, trust to rebuild. Some basement cleaning to do. Not in her house, but in her heart.

  Zane, though, looked troubled. “I will wait, Rowan. Just tell me that at the end of it, when everything is right for you, that I’ll have you. That you’ll be mine.”

  “I’ll be yours,” she whispered, staring into his dark brown eyes. “But first, I’ll be mine.”

  * * *

  Zane didn’t slip out of Rowan’s room until she dozed off again, which was close to dawn. By then, he was so tired and sleepy himself that he could hardly focus on putting one foot in front of the other. With the onset of visiting hours, he knew the in-laws would be showing up, and that meant he had to make himself scarce.

  Passing the nurses’ station, he made sure to tell the ladies there how grateful he was for them letting him hang out. Then he went out into the waiting area and called Mike, whose insane ass was probably already kicking the shit out of a sparring partner right about now. His brother didn’t answer right away, but once Zane had wandered outside to watch the pink and orange stain of sunrise light up the sky over New Orleans, his phone rang in his hand.

  “Hey,” Mike greeted. “Where the hell are you and what the hell are you doing?”

  “I’m at the hospital.”

  “Still?”

  “Yeah, but I’m leaving.”

  “Did they finally throw you out?”

  “No. Rowan woke up and we talked. She’s sleeping again.”

  “How did that go?”

  How had that gone? He wanted to say it had gone well, despite the fact that he almost felt more confused now than he had when he’d first taken a seat beside her sleeping form. “Okay, I think. She didn’t chase me out or start screaming, so that’s a start.”

  “Seems like one,” Mike agreed. “Though I don’t see why she would. You didn’t do anything.”

  “Are you, like, up? With coffee, by any chance?”

  “Sure. Come on over.”

  The sky was bright blue when Mike opened the door of Savannah’s apartment and let Zane inside the cozy space. The scent of coffee drifting in from the kitchen was so enticing he nearly groaned. After the sludge at the hospital, though, anything would do.

  “Did you have trouble finding the place?” Mike asked as Zane followed him into the cheery kitchen. It was very Savannah. As usual, Mike’s size ate up most of the small space.

  “Nah. Your directions were solid.”

  “Good. Savannah’s still sleeping, but she’ll be getting up for work soon.”

  “She’s going? I figured she would stay at the hospital.” It was almost incomprehensible to him that Rowan wasn’t everyone’s number-one priority.

  Mike raised an eyebrow at him. “She’s going by later.”

  Two steaming cups poured, they stepped out onto Savannah’s little balcony overlooking Bourbon Street so as not to wake her, taking seats at her bistro table as another scorcher of a day unfurled around them. Zane took a sip of the perfect black brew and shook his head. “It’s just that I’d give my left nut to spend all day with her. It seems like I’m the only one who wants to. And I’m the only one who can’t.”

  “It’s tough, brother, I know.” Mike stared across the street for a moment. “I wish I could help. I really do.”

  “Boundaries,” Zane grumbled.

  “Fucking A right, there are boundaries. I walk on eggshells around these people myself, Zane, you have to know that. They still have a hard time looking me in the eye, and I can’t say I blame them. It’s getting better, but it’s not there yet.”

  “At least they’ll look at you.”

  “You think that was the case from the start? Give it time.”

  Time, time, time. Everybody needed fucking time. He had it to give, but goddamn, he’d never been a patient man. Wiping his heavy eyes with his thumb and index finger, he contemplated tossing the mug of hot coffee over his own head to wake himself up.

  “I’m sure Savannah wouldn’t mind you crashing here for a while if you need some sleep,” Mike said, watching him. “You’ve been awake all night, haven’t you?”

  “That’s not unusual.” There were different kinds of awake, though. There was the kind of awake after making music all night, when a glance out the window revealed the first unexpected streaks of dawn outside. There was the kind of awake when he spent all night blissfully fucking the most beautiful girl he’d ever met, and he’d never felt more alive. Then, as he’d learned to his sorrow last night, there was the kind of awake where the entire world stopped turning, except for one little hospital room. Where the only sound that mattered was every breath she took. This kind of awake was a step away from dead.

  “You can’t be here for her at all if you collapse. Catch a few hours of sleep.”

  Zane waved him off. “I will. I’m not even really thinking about today, or even the next couple of days. When she goes home, Mike, and it’s just her . . .”

  “She’ll be fine,” his brother said firmly. “She has Savannah.”

  “Is Savannah going to live with her? Is Savannah going to be there twenty-four seven when the baby comes home?”

  “Maybe, Zane, I don’t know. They’ll work it out.”

  Fuck, he just felt so useless. There was so much he wanted to do, so much he could do, and no one would let him. He wanted to jump out in the middle of the street and scream.

  Of course, if he’d quit dropping tour dates, then maybe he would get an opportunity to work out some of this frustration eating at him. He’d already let the guys know that tonight’s show wasn’t happening, either.

  She’d asked him to step away. At the bottom of all this was that one fact he couldn’t ignore.

  “After you get some sleep,” Mike said, turning his mug slowly in his big hands, “maybe you ought to clear out of town.”

  Zane sat back and stared at his brother until Mike finally dared to meet his gaze.

  “I’m sorry. I think it’s best for everyone.”

  “Do you.”

  “Yeah, I do, Zane. After that shit yesterday in her hospital room . . . they don’t need that. She doesn’t need that. If you could stop and think about it long enough, you would know I’m right.”

  “She fucking asked for me.”

  “And you came. You saw her, she saw you. Now go.”

  The burn of outrage that slithered through him was slow, but dangerous. He didn’t like fighting with Mike. The two of them had had their share of words in the past, but Zane had never felt anything like the animosity focused on Mike right now. He heard that shaking fury in his own voice. “Why the fuck did you even tell me about any of it, then?”

  Ever cool, Mike took a sip of coffee before answering. He was used to stepping in the cage with some of the toughest motherfuckers alive; his little brother’s anger was nothing but a fly to swat. “I have to admit I didn’t actually think you’d ditch concerts and hop a plane. Never in a million. You have responsibilities to your fans. That’s something you’ve always taken very seriously, Z. Think about it.”

  Zane felt cold water douse his anger. Guilt would do that every time. “We’ll offer refunds,” he grumbled, even though he knew that wasn’t enough. From the look he gave him, Mike knew it too.

  “Get your ass back out there. They need you too. They paid their hard-earned money to see you perform. Have you forgotten being that kid skipping lunch so you could save your money, scraping together every penny you could find on the street, so you could buy that CD, buy those tickets? Only to have the plug pulled on the show. How would you have felt? Maybe you’ve forgotten that kid whose life revolved around music, Zane, but I haven’t. I watched everything he went through, and I know that kid would never grow into such a spoiled, selfish egomaniac that he would shrug off disappointing thousands of fans who love to see him, who live to see him li
ve.”

  Zane sat wordlessly, motionless, not trusting himself to speak, not even trusting himself to examine any of the emotions ricocheting around his brain.

  The hold of Mike’s intense blue eyes released him at last. He cleared his throat. “Don’t worry about Rowan. We got this. I give you my word, there isn’t a need she or Zoey could have that we won’t meet. That I won’t meet, if it comes to that.”

  And Mike’s word was good as gold. That music-loving kid remembered that much.

  Rowan herself had told him she needed space. Mike was telling him to leave. When Savannah woke up, she would fucking tell him to leave too.

  Taking a deep breath of still, muggy morning air, he cast a glance around. The city never slept, but the vampires had turned in and the day walkers were emerging, going about their mundane lives. His coffee mug was cooling against his palm, and he picked it up for a sip.

  “I’ll fly out as soon as I get some sleep,” he said, getting to his feet. Mike stood too, and pulled him into a fierce back-slapping hug.

  “You know I’m on your side,” Mike told him.

  He knew it. It was still a damn hard thing to admit sometimes.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Zoey looked like Tommy.

  Rowan stared at that little face for what must have been hours. She had his eyes and his full, pouty mouth, a perfect, tiny replica. It fascinated Rowan to explore her, discovering each similarity like a hidden treasure. Her miniature hands were Rowan’s . . . about the only contribution from her own DNA that she could identify. Long fingered, busy little hands, though. For all her tininess and vulnerability, she was strong and energetic.

  “All she needs is to grow and gain a little weight and she’ll be out of here,” the kindly, jovial nurse told her. At first, there had been some respiratory distress, and Zoey had spent some time on the CPAP machine, but only a few hours. Even the thought of those few hours filled Rowan with horror. Her baby girl, so tiny, so new, struggling to breathe, denied those first precious minutes feeling her mother’s love for her.

  And oh, God, how she loved her.

  Back in her hospital bed, all she could do between naps was stare at the ceiling and ponder that miraculous little being she’d brought into the world. Nurses filed in and out, checking on her. Regina stopped by. That afternoon, Savannah stopped by. The entire time, Rowan waited for Zane.

  She remembered their encounter last night—this morning?—but just barely. It felt like a dream. He’d been here, that was the most important thing. He’d kept a vigil by her bedside so she wouldn’t have to wake up alone and terrified. That meant more to her than he would ever know.

  And now, she wanted to tell him all about Zoey, how utterly beautiful and perfect she was, how sweet, how much she loved her. How, all this time, she’d expected her heart to be full of pain if she looked at her newborn and saw a Tommy clone, when instead, it was full of joy. Full of hope.

  If she’d been searching for a savior, this little girl was it. Rowan hadn’t even seen it coming. But Zane had been by her side through so much, she wanted him to share in the day too.

  God only knew where her cell phone was. In the madness of her medical emergency, no one had thought to grab it and bring it to the hospital. Understandable, of course, but now she was going crazy without it. Savannah had promised to go to her house and get it for her, then bring it back later when she and Mike went out for dinner. So it was close to six before she finally received her lifeline, except it was fully dead. Mike was kind enough to plug it into the wall for her so she didn’t have to get up.

  As soon as it was charging and Mike and Savannah were gone, she tried to call Zane, but he didn’t answer. Frustrated, she stared at the TV for a while without really watching the reality show playing there. She hadn’t had any messages from him. Neither Mike nor Savannah had mentioned him at all.

  He had been here, hadn’t he? So many turbulent memories, she couldn’t sort them all. But among them was his face, half in shadow in her dark room, so real. His voice, singing to her. Yes, she was sure he’d been here.

  Another hour passed before his name flashed on her phone screen. She snatched it up, eager to hear his voice, but the voice that greeted her barely sounded a thing like him. “Hey, darlin’,” he said. The words were right, but the tone was all wrong. Hopefully it was only her imagination. Or he was tired. God, he should be, after the night he had put in. “How are you feeling?”

  “Okay, considering,” she said, reaching for the remote to turn down the TV. “I’d hoped you would stop by. Where are you?”

  The brief pause before he answered set her heart to pounding. “LA.”

  “Oh . . . okay. I didn’t expect you to go.”

  “You told me to go.”

  She had? “I did? God, Zane, I can’t remember half of everything I said. They had me so sedated.”

  “You were making a lot of sense for someone so sedated,” he said with a grim chuckle. “Don’t worry about it, though, okay? I’m here so we don’t have to cancel the show tomorrow night. I’ve been letting everyone down. I can’t keep doing that.”

  “I wouldn’t want you to do that,” she said, fighting every selfish instinct that was screaming because she wanted him here, now, with her and Zoey. “Um . . . I hate to ask, but could you clue me in a little on what I said?”

  Another pause. It had to be so bad. She couldn’t stand it. “That you had some things to face before you can move on.”

  Well . . . maybe drugged-out Rowan had her shit together more than lucid Rowan, after all. What a sad thought to have. “That is true,” she admitted. “And what did you say?”

  This pause was the lengthiest of them all. “Too much, probably,” he said at last, injecting more lightness into his tone than she knew he felt. Her heart turned a slow flip in her chest. Something was teasing at edges of those mist-shrouded memories . . .

  “Zane?”

  “I just . . . I laid a lot out there. I did. Like a dumbass. But it’s okay. Nothing for you to worry about.”

  “I want to know.”

  “Nah, not this, not now. You have so much going on. You have a beautiful daughter—”

  “Did you tell me you love me?” she demanded when that memory broke through like a tiger pouncing on her and ripping her heart to shreds. “You did, didn’t you? Don’t you dare hold out on me, Zane Larson. You don’t get to use my stupor as a get-out-of-jail-free card.”

  “I did,” he said, his voice gaining strength over the distance that separated them. “I love you so fucking much, and don’t ever forget it. I love you enough to walk away from you right now, like you asked me to.”

  “Oh God . . .”

  “Rowan, it’s okay. Take care of your daughter. She’s the one who needs you right now. I happen to think she’s the luckiest kid on the planet, having you for a mom.”

  “But what are you going to do?”

  “Sing my ass off. Play shows, make music. I gotta stop forgetting where I came from and what it took to get here. I worked too hard to blow it.”

  “I never wanted you to blow it.”

  “I know. You’re amazing. You’re one of the most incredible people I’ve ever met, truly.”

  “You say you love me? But this sounds an awful lot like goodbye forever. That’s not what you mean, is it?”

  Again with the damn silence, as if he couldn’t decide what to share and what not to. “I said a lot, Rowan. But you didn’t say any of it back.”

  Her mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, and it seemed his condition was contagious. She could blame it on her medication last night, only those words weren’t coming now, either, and she was perfectly coherent.

  Those words were there. The feelings were there. But buried under so, so much debris. She needed to pick through that junk, clean it out once and for all. So she could step back and see what was real and what was a product of her rampant fantasies.

  “I don’t want to lose you again,” she said. “That’s
the last thing I want.”

  “Oh, honey, you’ll never lose me. I’ll always be here.”

  “That’s not how I mean.” Now her voice was beginning to tremble, and she hadn’t wanted any tears today. Hell, any day, but especially today.

  “I told you I would wait for you. I will. But it isn’t fair to you, either, worried about what I’m up to all the time when you have Zoey to think about. I don’t want you to rush things for me.”

  Surely it was every rock star’s girlfriend’s or wife’s biggest fear . . . What the fuck is he out there doing? And ordinarily she would want to tell those women they were naive as hell if they didn’t think he was fulfilling every hedonistic desire. Now that the shoe was on her foot, how well was she going to do at being that woman?

  “I wouldn’t,” she said, and she was about to say more, but he cut her off.

  “The guys want to get some practice in, so I’d better run. I miss you already.”

  It took every ounce of her strength to let him go, to do the right thing for both of them. But she did it, telling him she missed him too and hanging up without a single protest.

  All she could think as she stared at the ceiling was, Damn you, Savannah, you and Mike both. You had to know about this.

  Chapter Twenty

  After two long, exhausting weeks spent practically living in the NICU, Rowan brought Zoey home. And she realized right away how eternally grateful she should be to Regina for her nonstop shopping sprees, both before and after Zoey’s surprise arrival. It meant she didn’t have to worry about it herself, and she had everything she could possibly need stocked and ready to go.

  But she would soon learn she didn’t yet know what exhaustion was. Savannah and Regina helped when they could . . . which thankfully was very often. Each day blurred into the next. “Sleep when the baby sleeps” was everyone’s sage advice, but she found it wasn’t easy for her. So she spent most of her time in a caffeinated stupor, trying to take advantage of the times when Zoey wasn’t awake and crying to get things done around the house and indulge in a much needed chat with Savannah. When she did take a moment to lie down, a tiny cry would jerk her awake as soon as she began to doze, and the cycle would begin again.