Remember Me This Way Page 5

  I feel him shiver against me. “The label wants us back on tour asap. They’re setting up a concert in LA in two weeks. And I don’t know how I’m going to do that show. I don’t want you in public, yet I can’t bear to be away from you.”

  This is the first I’m hearing about them having a show or returning back to the tour, but I’m not surprised by the news. I knew that the label was going to be pushing for the tour to resume as soon as possible. I’m surprised the guys were able to get away for this long.

  “Maybe we should all go see a therapist,” I suggest softly, but Jensen is already shaking his head.

  “The only thing I need is your safety. That’s the only thing that’s going to get me better,” he says stubbornly, and I sigh, burrowing my head into his chest, inhaling his scent that will always be home to me.

  I end up finding a therapist without the guys, thanks to Clark helping me out with a name. He’s been operating as the band’s de facto manager along with being their agent as they look for a manager to replace Miranda. Lately, he’s been stopping by more and more for meetings with the guys as they get ready to start touring again, but he always stops to talk to me when they’re done. I used to think he was a bit creepy, but I’ve come to realize that he’s just awkward but well meaning. When he asked me this last time how I was doing, I just went for it, deciding to ask him for suggestions. That morning, I started crying after Tanner dropped a glass bottle and the sound of the glass hitting the floor scared me. I couldn’t keep living like this.

  Clark actually had a bunch of names to give me, as his clients frequently needed therapy after the rigors of touring. I decided I would feel more comfortable talking to a female therapist and called and set up an appointment that day.

  So here I am now, waiting in a luxurious lobby to talk to Dr. Mayfield for my first appointment.

  “Ariana,” calls a pleasant voice as a sharply dressed blonde steps through a door on the far side of the room. She’s a striking woman, probably in her mid-40s with brilliant green eyes. I’m dressed in black tights and an oversized sweater, my hair in a ponytail, and my face is devoid of any makeup. I immediately feel like I should have dressed nicer for the appointment. The warm smile she gives me helps settle my nerves, however.

  She shakes my hand and introduces herself, and I follow her into her office. The office is much tidier than I thought it would be. For some reason when I imagined going to therapy, I imagined it taking place in a crowded room with lots of old books and a long leather couch. Instead, there’s hardly anything in the room. A rug and two comfy looking armchairs are set up in the middle of the room, and there’s a few potted plants in three of the corners. Other than that, the room’s bare.

  We settle in, and I shift in my seat nervously under her patient gaze. She observes me for what seems like a full minute before speaking. “What can I help you with?” she finally asks gently.

  It’s hard to open up now that I’m here. I know that she’s signed an NDA, and that she comes highly recommended by the label, but she’s still a stranger. But maybe that’s what I need, an outside opinion.

  After giving myself a little pep talk, I begin. The words fall fast and furious from me. I talk about high school and meeting the guys, I talk about Gentry, and reuniting with the guys. I talk about going on tour and Gentry stalking us-to her credit she doesn’t even blink with the news that I am in a relationship with all three of them. I talk about everything but the reason that I didn’t follow the guys to LA I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to do that. Thankfully, she doesn’t ask anything about that. Instead, she focuses on what’s been going on lately, how I’m feeling, and the panic attacks I’ve been suffering from.

  “Ariana,” she finally says, after she’s listened to me more. “You’ve talked a lot about things that you’ve done with your men. You’ve talked about the tour, and supporting them. You’ve talked about how much you’re worried about how they’re handling everything. What I want to know is what you’re doing for yourself. I want to know what you want.”

  I open my mouth to answer, but no words come out.

  “I thought so,” she responds. “Ariana, have you ever actually done something for yourself in your entire life?”

  “Leaving Gentry was for me,” I finally am able to respond. But she just shakes her head.

  “Would you have had the strength to leave if you hadn’t won those tickets and the guys hadn’t pushed for you to stay with them?”

  Again, I don’t have a quick answer. “I would like to think that I would have. But it wasn’t like it was easy to get away,” I answer somewhat defensively, not wanting to envision a life where I had never been able to leave Gentry until he finally went too far and killed me.

  "Ariana..." she begins gently. For some reason, I begin holding my breath, knowing that whatever she is going to say next is going to hurt. "I think you're stuck. From the time you were a teenager, you’ve always been living for someone else. I don't think you really know who you are, what you want out of life. And until you figure that out, until you start living for you and not someone else… You're always going to have issues. What you're experiencing right now isn't just panic attacks because of your fear that your ex-husband is going to attack you again. What you are experiencing is a feeling that you've lost control of your life. So the question is, what are you going to do about that?"

  I sit there silently, weighing her words. My first instinct is to deny that she’s right, to tell her she doesn’t really know anything about me and couldn’t possibly understand what I’ve been through and why I am the way that I am. I know what I want, don’t I? I mean, I at least know I want Jesse, Tanner, and Jensen and I want them forever. But what did that mean if that was the only thing that I knew I want in my life? I want freedom... but what did freedom mean? I want to stand on my own two feet, but what does that look like? I want to contribute more to my relationship, but how do I do that? The more I think about it, sitting in this chair under the doctor’s watchful gaze, the more I know she’s right. I have no idea who Ariana Kent is. And until I figure that out, I’m never going to be happy.

  8

  I'm still playing the doctor’s words in my head when I get back to Jesse's mansion. Jesse wanted to go with me to the appointment, but I’d forced him to stay home, knowing that I needed to do at least this first appointment on my own. The fact that I considered letting Jesse go with me though, seems to play right into the doctor’s thoughts about me.

  Jensen's waiting in the front entryway as I walk through the door. He looks exhausted, which probably isn’t a good thing considering that the guys have their concert tonight. I thought having a therapy session today would probably be best, as the concert is probably going to bring up some bad memories considering the last concert I attended I almost died. Jensen looks relieved to see me, almost as if he was afraid that I wouldn't come back. He rushes towards me, and pulls me into his arms. He’s dressed in nothing but a pair of sweatpants that dips dangerously low, and the combination of his perfect abs and that delicious V that all three of them possess has my mind short-circuiting.

  “I feel like this is all our fault,” he says, kissing me sadly.

  “What’s your fault?” I ask, feeling confused.

  “Because we’ve broken you, and we swore we never would. You’re having to go to a therapist because we can’t figure out how to fix this. You’re my life, Ariana. More important than anything. Yet here I am, dragging you to this shitty concert tonight because I’m a selfish asshole who can’t bear to be away from you.” His forehead falls to mine. “Tell me what I can do so you won’t wake up screaming on the few occasions you do sleep? How can I ease your stomach so you can eat? Tell me how to fix us, so you don’t have to run to a therapist to try and fix your life.”

  “Jensen, going to a therapist isn’t a bad thing. Why are you so hung up on the fact that I went?” I ask, growing annoyed at the pity party he’s got going on.

  He opens his mouth to a
nswer, but just then, a voice from my past all of a sudden comes barreling down the hall.

  I push back from Jensen, startled by that voice, the voice of easing anxiety, late-night chats, and hysterical giggles. “That sounds like...” I whisper as footsteps and the voice grow louder in the hall, nearing the front entryway where we are still standing. “Amberlie.”

  I look at Jensen in disbelief. He looks torn between wanting to finish our conversation and wanting to let me reunite with Amberlie.

  “I haven’t talked to her in years,” I whisper, excitement and trepidation coursing through my veins as I wait for her to come into view.

  A second later, she’s hustling down the hallway, still the ball of energy that I remembered her to be.

  “Ari,” she screeches before she’s running into me, practically knocking me down with her enthusiasm. I’m crying, not believing that she’s really here. To be quite honest, I was a terrible friend in the end. After everything happened, and I decided not to go to LA, I cut everything off...everything, including my best friend. She tried and tried to talk to me, to be there for me, but I rejected every effort she made. Eventually, her calls stopped. The last I heard she had gotten married to Teddy, a guy she started dating senior year who went to State College with her, and now she was living two towns over with him.

  Looking at her, she was the same Amberlie. A little curvier than she had been, but it only enhanced that glow that she always seemed to possess. Her hair was a shade darker than it had been, and her makeup was more natural than it had been in high school. She’s a knockout.

  I realized after I had been staring an awkwardly long amount of time at her that she was studying me with the same intensity that I was studying her.

  Suddenly, she whirled around and glared at the guys. Jesse and Tanner followed Amberlie down the hall and were watching our reunion with Jensen now.

  “What’s wrong with her?” she hisses at them. Their faces all turn guilty, even though they haven’t actually done anything wrong.

  “I can’t believe you’re here,” I tell her, diverting her attention. She turns back to me, her face lighting up as we once again hug each other tightly.

  “I’ve been trying to get in contact with the guys since the news erupted with the story that you had been shot. It took a while to get past the suits and get any news about how you were doing.” Her eyes turn glassy with tears. “I can’t believe you were shot. I can’t believe you were shot by your husband. I didn’t even know you were married. You didn’t even invite me to the wedding.” Amberlie’s voice is nearly hysterical by the end as she rambles on, and I’m feeling guiltier than ever about how I treated my best friend five years ago. Amberlie was the first friend that I actually ever had, and she deserved better from me.

  “It’s a long story,” I tell her softly. “And I know that ‘sorry’ falls extremely short for everything I owe you, but I am so glad you’re here.”

  Amberlie melts and throws her arms around me. I’m suddenly aware that the guys are still standing there, witnesses to our moment.

  “I know you two have a lot to catch up with, but we need to leave for the concert in thirty minutes,” Jensen says gruffly. And I nod at him, having a tough time speaking at the moment since I’m so choked up with emotion.

  “Let’s go upstairs so I can change,” I finally squeak out to Amberlie, who immediately links arms with me so that we ascend the stairs side by side. “We’ll be right down,” I tell the guys, who are still watching us. Tanner looks almost a bit jealous right now that Amberlie’s here, which is stupid since he’s been the one choosing not to spend time with me, when I’ve been right at his fingertips for months.

  We get to my room, and Amberlie squeals as she examines everything. “I always knew this was going to be your life,” she tells me excitedly. “I knew that there wasn’t a future that didn’t end with you and the guys together.” She visibly swoons when she sits down on my bed and feels how comfortable it is.

  “I’ve got to have Teddy get us one of these mattresses,” she says. “It’s amazing.”

  “How is Teddy?” I ask and her face visibly brightens, even though I wasn’t sure that was possible.

  “He’s still Teddy,” she sighs dreamily. “I still wake up every day thanking the heavens that he’s mine. And Cody looks just like him,” she tells me, digging into her purse for something.

  “Cody?” I ask, and I watch as a flash of sadness crosses her features.

  “Cody’s my son. I had almost forgotten that you haven’t met him, since it feels like he’s been mine forever. He’s three years old and just a handful, but we wouldn’t have it any other way,” she tells me, and I know that she looks sad because I should have known that. I should have been there, visiting her in the hospital when the baby was born. I should have been at his birthday parties, his christening...I should have been there.

  She holds out the picture, and I examine the cutest little kid that I’ve ever seen. He’s got the same auburn hair as Amberlie did in high school with bright blue eyes. He’s perfect.

  “I can’t wait for you to meet him,” she tells me, and I nod, feeling emotional again at all the life that I’ve lost.

  I take a shuddery breath and give her a watery smile. “I can’t wait to meet him. He’s the most perfect little boy that I’ve ever seen.”

  “Isn’t he?” she squeals, taking the picture back from me and smiling at it fondly. Before we can say anything else, the room is filled with Jesse’s voice as he talks through the speaker that’s in every room. The house is so big that it would be impossible to talk to someone on the other side of the house without the speaker system.

  “Ladies, we need to get going,” he says, and I quickly run into my closet to get some clothes. “Coming,” I respond, as I look for something to wear. It’s a fine line being the girlfriend of the biggest band in the world. I have to look edgy and sexy without looking slutty. It’s actually not an easy feat.

  Amberlie walks into the closet, looking a little awestruck at the sight. The closet is about the size of the trailer I grew up in, and the guys have stuffed it full of more clothes than I’m pretty sure that I could wear in three lifetimes. She begins to look around as I start pulling tops from hangers that could potentially work.

  “What about this?” she says, and I turn around to see that she’s holding up my leather skirt, the one that I wore that first concert. It feels like a lifetime ago, even though it hasn’t been that long. That skirt reminds me of times when I’ve been brave, when my life has changed dramatically. It feels perfect for tonight.

  A few minutes later, I’m dressed in the skirt that I’m wearing over a black, lacey, long-sleeve bodysuit.

  “You look perfect,” she says admiringly, smoothing down a section of my hair. “And so skinny,” she continues, a little bit self-consciously.

  “I think motherhood has only made you more beautiful,” I tell her meaningfully, and she must believe me, because she immediately brightens. “Let’s get down to your boys. I’m sure they are freaking out about how long we’re taking,” she says, sounding happy again.

  We go downstairs, and sure enough, all the guys are waiting at the foot of the stairs impatiently. I lose my train of thought again at the sight of them all together, dressed for the concert. On the tour, they usually get ready in their dressing rooms but I guess they decided to just get ready here tonight.

  Jesse is wearing a velvet blazer with nothing on underneath and a pair of tight fitting black jeans. My mouth waters looking at him. It somehow feels even more decadent knowing that his nipple piercings are waiting just out of sight. Jensen and Tanner look equally delicious. Jensen is wearing a tight black shirt that accentuates every line on his chest and abs with a pair of grey skinny jeans, and Tanner is wearing a loose white tank shirt with leather pants, his tattoos mouthwatering. The effect of all three of them is effectively mind-blowing, and I wonder how it is that they continue to get more attractive to me.

  “I
think I’ve somehow died and gone to hot guy heaven,” says Amberlie. “Either that, or I’m dreaming. Pinch me, so I can wake up before Teddy gets mad at me for drooling in my sleep.”

  Her comments break the spell I was under, and we all laugh before heading outside to where the guys’ customary black SUV is waiting for us. Tanner surprises me by putting his arm around my waist and pulling me into his side. “You are so fucking hot,” he tells me, licking the side of my neck. My whole body feels like I’ve caught fire. I probably should be mad at him that he’s been basically hiding from me lately and now he’s all over me, but Tanner and his silver eyes have always been a weakness of mine. There’s not much I wouldn’t do for him, wouldn’t do for all three of them.

  Amberlie and the guys manage to keep me distracted on the way to the venue, but when the outside of the Hollywood Bowl comes into view, I start to feel like I might faint.

  BOOM. Gentry’s standing there with the gun. BOOM. Pain is slicing across my body.

  “Ari,” Jensen’s voice slices through the darkness. My eyes fly open, and I find myself sprawled against the leather seats. The SUV is sitting in the parking lot by the artist entrance, and the guys and Amberlie are all hovered around me looking concerned. I fainted.

  Shit.

  “That’s it, we’re going home,” barks Tanner with a curse. And that’s enough to bring me fully back to life. I sit up quickly, ignoring the headrush that I get when I do so.

  “No. I’m fine. I have to do this,” I tell them firmly, or as firmly as one can when they’ve just regained consciousness. We talked at my appointment about the triggers that I might encounter tonight, and Dr. Mayfield stressed that I should try and push through them, or it might build up my fear even more in my mind. I have to do this.

  The guys are arguing, but I don’t wait for them to make a decision for me. Instead, I grab Amberlie and head towards the door that leads inside, my security team-who had been following us in another SUV-hustling to catch up with me. Right as I reach for the door I get the strangest feeling that I’m being watched. I turn around and scan the parking lot, but as far as I can see, there’s no one around.