“You would think.” He had his suspicions they were the ones providing her the drugs, but what could he say? “All right, man. Will keep you posted.”
“Thanks, Cade,” Reese told him.
“No sweat.” He hung up and headed out onto the balcony. He crossed his arms and closed his eyes, lifting his face to the breeze. Reese had one thing right—Daphne always seemed to carry trouble with her.
And for once, he was really and truly tired of it.
It surprised him to realize that. Cade headed to the edge of the balcony and leaned over the railing, gazing down at the trickle of cars on the streets below. Kylie had loved this balcony last night, he remembered. His memory was full of holes, but he did recall that part, the way her face had lit up at the sight of it.
She still appreciated things in her life. She was still full of joy.
He couldn’t say the same for Daphne anymore. The teenage spitfire he’d loved so long ago, who charmed with her witty comments and her wry attitude? Cade didn’t even know if that girl existed anymore. Maybe he’d been holding on to an image, a dream, for the last ten years.
And Cade was finally ready to move on. Last night with Kylie had been eye-opening. Not only because she’d been sexy and beautiful, but because she’d been kind and generous, and thoughtful of his feelings.
He’d forgotten what that was like—to be interested in someone that gave a damn how you felt.
And he realized he was truly mentally done with Daphne. The door had closed. The girl he’d wanted for so long had turned into someone else, and she wasn’t the person he loved anymore. It was refreshing to realize it. As he stood on the balcony, the breeze ruffled his hair and he felt light and clean and whole again.
He felt like a new person.
Strange how holding on to an image of who Daphne used to be had made him feel so weighted down. He should be sad that he was finally giving up on her, but instead, he felt . . . good. He felt free. Maybe he’d never loved her after all. Maybe he’d just been focused on how he thought things should go instead of letting them take their natural course.
Either way, he was done.
Now, he just needed to see Daphne to firmly close the door on things . . . and he needed to see Kylie again.
His phone buzzed with an incoming text.
Cade pulled it out of his pocket, hoping that maybe Kylie had decided to contact him after all.
Hey!! Heard u were here 2 see me! Sorry I missed u. Call me back????
Daphne.
That sour feeling immediately returned to his stomach. Cade stared at the text for a long moment, and then deleted it.
He was done with her. Done with her games, done with her mood swings, her drug use, everything. He tucked his phone back into his pocket, gazed out at the balcony, and smiled.
EIGHT
Why on earth had she taken this job again, Kylie wondered as she hauled her makeup case into the greenroom backstage. Daphne had been like Jekyll and Hyde for the last twenty-four hours, alternately raging at everyone and then acting clingy. She had decided that Kylie was her new best friend, and spent half the day in her makeup chair, just chatting and then alternately weeping.
Marco, he of the “good drugs,” was in the doghouse it seemed, and all of the dancers were giving Daphne a wide berth, unsure of her mood. She didn’t seem to be partying, but Kylie wasn’t sure if that was due to being between shows, or if she was really and truly trying to clean up.
Kylie was just glad the next concert had begun and Daphne was finally on stage and occupied with something. At least for a few hours, there would be a reprieve from her mood swings. She hauled her four makeup cases, each one stacked on top of the next.
“Let me help you with that,” a familiar, warm voice said, and someone lifted the cases out of Kylie’s hands.
Oh, sweet baby Jesus. Her face turned bright red and she stared in a mix of surprise and horror at Cade Archer as he took the stack from her and set them down on the lit makeup table.
He turned to give her a gorgeous smile. “Hello again.”
God, he was so good looking. It was unfair. He wore a dark button-down shirt, slightly open at the collar, with a white undershirt underneath. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and an expensive watch decorated one wrist. And he wore slacks again. No jacket this time, but he still managed to look delectable and wealthy all at once.
Kylie blinked repeatedly, but he didn’t disappear, wasn’t a figment of her imagination. Well, shit. So much for her one-night stand thing. “What are you doing here?”
“I had to see you again,” he told her, those blue eyes focusing on her face.
“You did?” Her initial bubble of pleasure popped as she realized there could be another reason why he was here to visit her. He had to? There were only a few reasons why a man would have to see his one-night stand again . . . and none of them were good. “Oh God, you’re not clean, are you? What do you have?”
His eyes widened and then he laughed, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. “I don’t have an STD, Kylie.” He grimaced. “Though I really do need to apologize.” He leaned in. “I’m normally the kind that wears a sock.”
“I’m not normally the kind that goes for a one-night stand,” she murmured, still in a daze.
“Me either,” he confessed. “Which is why I had to see you again.”
“But why?” Her brows furrowed. “I thought it was supposed to be wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am. I wasn’t expecting anything—”
“I know,” he told her, his beautiful mouth quirked with amusement. “I think that’s one of the things I like about you. But maybe I wanted to see you again for myself? I thought we could talk. Maybe over dinner?” He gave her an inquisitive look.