She shook her head as they started driving. “Johnny will call my parents. Wait! Did you see Johnny and Al?” she asked. She tried to sit up. “Sleeping outside.”
They both tried to get her to settle down and keep her mask on, but she kept pushing it back and coughing. “Where are they?” she repeated.
Her head was pounding and her eyes wouldn’t stop running from the burn.
“We’ll have to see when we get to the hospital,” one said softly. “It’s important that you stay calm. You inhaled a lot of smoke. Keep the oxygen on.”
When Roxie got into that cab and didn’t look back, Beckham knew he’d lost his chance with her. He should have gone home, worked out until he couldn’t think straight, or asked Sierra to not let him out of her sight. But he didn’t. He told Howie to take the day off and not bother coming around until they drove to the Grammys the next night.
Another cab pulled up and the flight attendant from earlier stepped beside him and opened the door.
“Need a ride?” she asked with a smirk.
“I need a drink.” He squelched down the bile that threatened to come up and welcomed the dark spiral he was diving into headfirst.
“I can arrange that,” she whispered.
Anything to forget. He’d do anything to wipe it all out for just one night. It was pulsating with every heartbeat that Leo wasn’t his. Everywhere he looked was a reminder that Roxie didn’t want anything to do with him. You deserve a relapse, he told himself, and he stepped into the cab with her.
His cell phone vibrated and fell off of the nightstand. He grabbed it, crawled out of bed, and tried not to wake up Flight Attendant—what was her name? Morgan? Megan? Megan sounded right…
Stumbling over an empty Jameson bottle, he made it to the bathroom and turned the light on, nearly falling again over the brightness. He held onto his head, trying to push it into his neck. The room wanted to go sideways.
It’s not like you’re in a relationship, he told the bottom of his chin. He couldn’t venture up to his eyes.
What’s wrong with you?
He ran his hands over his face and through his hair.
You didn’t do anything wrong … but you may as well have. This is who you’ve always been. And this woman wanted you. No baggage there.
A beautiful woman that he never wanted to see again, much less, touch.
She was all he could see. Roxie. Roxie. She’s not Roxie.
Relationship or not, he loved Roxie. If he’d doubted it before, he was sure of it now. He’d hoped to put her out of his mind and had only succeeded in realizing he was in love with the woman.
Megan had been all over him the night before and he’d been all over the Jameson. When she unzipped his pants and got on her knees, he let her. But when he looked down and focused on the dark hair beginning to bob up and down on him, he’d yelled at her to stop.
She’d stared up at him in shock when he told her to get out. She wouldn’t leave and he was too drunk and exhausted to force her out.
It doesn’t matter that you didn’t have sex with her—you still went too far, you filthy fuckin’ loser.
He gagged over the sink, fisting the mirror and cursing every ounce of Jameson that still sang in his veins. He rinsed his face with cold water, put the phone in his pocket, and walked out of the bathroom.
Megan leaned up on her elbows when he went back into the room and watched as he tried to button his pants.
“Come back to bed, let me finish what I started last night…” She had smudged mascara circling her eyes and he felt his stomach heave at the sight of her.
His phone buzzed again. He took it out of his pocket as she said, “Ignore it. Come here.”
He took her hand off his hip. “If I didn’t want you when I was drunk I sure as hell don’t want you when I’m sober.”
He didn’t even hear the rest of what she said. He gathered what little he had with him and got out of there. Finally glancing down at his phone, his gut curled when he saw he’d missed twelve calls.
He didn’t listen to any of his messages, but called Nate. “What’s going on?”
“A lot. Meet me at Cedar Sinai. There are already reporters, so find a way in without being seen.”
He texted Nate when he was close and Anthony met him at one of the back entrances. Anthony came to an abrupt stop when he got a good look at Beckham.
He shook his head. “Beck…”
“I know. Believe me, I know I screwed up.”
“Follow me.”
They walked as fast as they could and Anthony talked quickly.
“Nate will meet you upstairs. He’s talking to the police right now. It’s Roxie. An explosion went off by her cottage—they’re monitoring her closely.”
“What?” He stopped walking and Anthony tried to keep him moving.
“I’m taking you to her. Just keep walking. Beck, have you heard from Ian at all? Since yesterday at the airport?”
“No, why? Is Roxie okay?”
“I think she will be, but she’s been through a lot. Like I said, they’re really watching her closely, so I think there’s still concern about all the smoke she inhaled. You’re sure you don’t know anything about Ian? He’s been missing since yesterday.”
“Missing? What the hell is going on?” He wanted to punch something.
“He took Sparrow and Journey to your house, left to run errands, and never showed up for their anniversary dinner.”
Beckham drew a sharp breath. “Something’s wrong. He’d never do that.”
“I know. Howie and Matt have been looking into it.”
Roxie woke up and looked around. Beckham was sitting by her, with a tight grip on her hand.
She blinked and tears ran down her face.
“Rox,” he breathed. “I’m here. I’m so sorry. Are you in pain? You scared me so bad…” he paused and took another breath. “I’ll get the nurse.” He pushed the button behind her.
“My eyes are on fire,” she whispered.
A nurse hurried into the room.
“Fastest service ever. Celebrities have magical powers,” Roxie croaked. “Where am I?” Her voice barely came out; she sounded like a million fires had settled down in her lungs.
“Cedar Sinai,” the nurse said, smiling at Beckham.
“You look rough,” Roxie said.
Beckham’s heart dropped. The nurse laughed. He didn’t.
He brought her fingers up to his lips and kissed each one. He’d nearly lost her. This was all his fault. If he had been with her and not … oh God, what a fucking idiot. He squeezed his eyes shut and held her hand to his cheek and kept it there.
She was so shaken, she let him.
When he opened his eyes, both Roxie and the nurse were staring at him.
“How bad is the smoke inhalation?” he asked the nurse. “Is there anything we can do to make sure it doesn’t get worse in her lungs?”
“We’re starting a brief course of steroids and will be watching her for at least 24 hours, possibly longer. Sometimes symptoms can worsen later, and with all the smoke she took in, we just need to run some tests and keep a close eye on her.”
Beckham nodded. “I plan on doing that too.”
“You need to go get ready!” Roxie protested. “You’re not missing the Grammys for me…”
“I’m not going anywhere. Nate’s taking care of it. He let them know we had an emergency and that we won’t be there.” He looked at the hand that was bandaged. “Does your hand hurt?”
“Yes. Very much. But, Beckham, you have to go. You’re up for … what—8 Grammys? You can’t miss that!”
“I don’t care,” he enunciated each word. “I’m not leaving you.”