Crazy Love - Krista & Chase Read online

  Crazy Love

  by

  Melanie Shawn

  Copyright © 2014 Melanie Shawn

  EPUB Edition

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this book. No part of this may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission in writing from Melanie Shawn. Exceptions are limited to reviewers who may use brief quotations in connection with reviews. No part of this book can be transmitted, scanned, reproduced, or distributed in any written or electronic form without written permission from Melanie Shawn.

  This book is a work of fiction. Places, names, characters and events are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Cover Design by Hot Damn Designs

  Copyedits by Mickey Reed Editing

  Proofreading Services by Raiza McDuffie

  Proofreading Services by Melani Bruce

  Book Design by BB eBooks

  Published by Red Hot Reads Publishing

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Excerpt: Actually Love

  Other titles by Melanie Shawn

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Every. Day. Every frickin’ day!

  “I can’t believe Chase Malone actually grew up here,” Misty exclaimed, her brown eyes glued to the TV as she lifted the remote to turn up the volume. “Did you know him? Did you go to school with him? Was he always so sexy?”

  Yes. Yes. And, hell yes.

  Krista’s cold fingers gripped the steel edge of the door to her locker. She wanted so badly to bang her head against it. Knowing that, as appealing as that sounded, it wouldn’t actually make her feel better, she refrained.

  One day. Was that too much to ask for? Just one Chase-free day. One day that she wasn’t reminded of him. One day that she didn’t hear his name. His songs. See his face. One day that she didn’t feel like her heart was breaking into a million pieces all over again.

  “We went to school together, but he was a couple years ahead of me.” Krista gave her patented “Chase Malone” answer as she pulled out her purse and slammed the locker shut, spinning the dial on the combination lock.

  Whenever the subject of the rock star came up, Krista tried to downplay her knowledge—which was biblical!—of him as much as possible. It wasn’t too terribly difficult, considering that the only people who ever uttered his name around her were ones who didn’t have any idea about their history.

  Except his mom, of course.

  Abby Malone talked to Krista about her son a lot. Krista made it a point to stop by and check on Abby, who rarely left her home and suffered from depression, several times a week, and inevitably, the conversation would turn to Chase. She knew Abby missed her only son more than life itself. To say that Abby and Chase’s relationship was complicated was like saying that the Grand Canyon was just a hole.

  The flat screen, that was mounted on the wall of the small employee lounge, blared—thanks to Misty maxing out the volume!—making it damn near impossible to tune out the entertainment news correspondent’s voice.

  “Chase Malone has once again sold out an impromptu performance. After announcing only two hours ago via social media that he would be playing at the Emerson Music Hall in Memphis, Tennessee tonight, all 4,700 seats have been snatched up. Tickets are now being sold for upwards of $500, and even those are hard to come by.

  “After leaving his band of seven years, Midnight Rush, and embarking on his solo career just ten months ago, Chase has played over a half dozen venues, each time to a sold-out crowd and each time announcing his appearance only hours before his show. Still no news on when dates will be released for the mysterious and elusive rock star’s much anticipated North American tour. Bringing you the latest in entertainment news, this is Kat Vargas signing off.”

  “I would do anything to see him perform live!” Misty clutched the TV remote to her chest. Swiveling around on the stool she was perched on, the pretty blonde asked, “What was he like? Does he ever come back and visit?”

  Krista knew she should have made a break for it while her new coworker had been enthralled by the report, thereby avoiding more questions. Unfortunately, Krista herself had been interested in what the ‘latest news’ on her ex was and had not made it the four steps it took to leave the room and be safely out of the tell-me-everything-you-know-about-Chase-Malone zone.

  As much as she tried to distance herself from Chase, telling herself that she wasn’t interested in anything that had to do with him, reminding herself that she was over him, her brain, heart, and hormones all had differing opinions on the subject. Krista hated that her body betrayed her logic. When she set her mind to something, it got done.

  She’d obtained her DPT (Doctor of Physical Therapy) degree in two years as a postgrad. Normally, the program took three. She was currently in a clinical residency program working towards her board certification. As of today, she was just three hundred hours shy of completing the two-thousand-hour requirement to achieve her goal.

  Her eye was on the prize. She didn’t allow distractions to take away her focus. Over the years, she’d been in and out of relationships. Some more serious than others. But school, her residency, her goals always came first. Focus plus discipline had equaled success.

  The only exception to that equation was the Chase Malone factor.

  The hours she’d wasted on that man were too numerous to count. Of course Krista could blame the media, television, magazines, and radio. But if she did that, then she wouldn’t be facing the truth, which was something she’d always strived to live for—her authentic self. If she were being totally honest, then she would have to admit that, more than anything or anyone else, she alone perpetuated her unhealthy attachment to someone she hadn’t even had a conversation with in over ten years.

  Her most recent Chase-fail was downloading the acoustic cover he’d released of ‘their song’ “Crazy Love” by Van Morrison and adding it to her ‘Chase playlist.’ He’d performed it live at the Grammys earlier this year. It had been his first performance after announcing that he was going to put out a solo record. Within twenty-four hours, the performance had garnered over a million hits on YouTube and shot straight up the charts to number one on iTunes.

  Krista had watched the show in her room, by herself. As she laid on her bed—wearing his shirt, which she’d had since seventh grade—she’d closed her eyes and, just like that, she had been transported back in time to the first time he’d sung that to her.

  They’d ridden their bikes down to the river on a sunny summer day. When they’d gotten there, there was a blanket spread out on the bank. Chase had somehow set up a picnic for them prior to them arriving without
her knowing. They’d eaten deli sandwiches and drank soda out of the can. Then he pulled out his guitar, told her he’d been working on learning ‘their song,’ and begun strumming the chords to the beautiful melody. Before he’d even sung the first lyric, she’d had tears falling down her face.

  Now she listened to his live performance every night on her iPod as she fell asleep. Most nights, a few tears still slipped down her cheeks.

  The other non-media-related culprit that hindered her personal must-get-over-Chase-at-all-costs campaign was the fact that he still contacted her—like clockwork. Four times a year, without fail, she’d receive something from him. Presents, flowers, messages, emails. The dates were always the same: on her birthday, Christmas, Valentine’s Day, and the anniversary of their first time. No matter where around the globe he was, Chase had not missed one of those dates in ten years.

  There were also the random messages that simply stated, “I miss you,” or variations of that theme. Some were more specific. “I miss your smile.” “I miss your eyes.” “I miss your laugh.” “I miss your lips.” Those texts were far worse than any present, voicemail, or flower delivery because she never knew when they were coming, so she couldn’t brace herself for impact.

  “Krista.” Misty’s high-pitched voice interrupted Krista’s inner thoughts. “Does he? Ever come back here?”

  “As far as I know, he hasn’t been back to Harper’s Crossing since he left halfway through his senior year.” Not even to attend his father’s funeral—not that she’d blamed him. Krista pulled her purse strap up on her shoulder as she reached for the doorknob. “See you tomorrow.” Krista’s tone was as upbeat as she could possibly manage as she slipped out of the door.

  Krista was halfway down the hall in the blink of an eye. As she blew on her hands, which were always cold, she hoped that she’d satisfied Misty’s curiosity, at least for now. If the girl dug much deeper, asked a few of the right people, then she’d easily unearth the fact that, not only had Krista known Chase, she’d been his girlfriend on and off for six years.

  But that was what felt like a lifetime ago. Before he’d left Harper’s Crossing. Before his rise to fame as the lead singer of Midnight Rush. Before they’d been adults.

  Now Krista had a career. Goals. A full, rich life that had nothing to do with Chase Malone.

  She almost had herself convinced until she remembered where she was headed. It was Wednesday, which meant that she needed to go over and check on Abby. Her relationship with Chase’s mom honestly had nothing to do with him. When she’d actually been Chase’s girlfriend, she hadn’t spent much time around the woman at all. Mainly because his father Roger had still been alive.

  When Krista had graduated from college and received her Bachelor’s degree, she’d returned home to work on her DPT and had also started volunteering for the Harper’s Crossing Women’s Shelter (HCWS). Around the same time, Roger had died of a brain aneurism. After spending time with the women at the shelter, she’d begun noticing similarities in their demeanor and behavior with that of Abby’s. She’d always known that Roger had been horrible to Chase, but as a kid and teen, she’d never even thought about the fact that his abuse might have been directed towards his wife as well.

  Seeing how broken the women at the shelter were, Krista had started visiting Abby, checking up on her. It was shocking and heartbreaking to see the shell of a person Chase’s mom had become and the conditions she lived in. Krista had decided on her first visit that something had to be done. It had taken over a year to finally convince Abby to see someone about her fragile mental state, but when she did, they’d prescribed her Cymbalta and she was now doing much better. She even ventured out to the movies with Krista just last weekend.

  Krista might have initiated her relationship with Abby primarily because of Chase. Their bond might have intensified because of their shared experience of being abandoned by Chase. But now Krista could honestly say that she considered Abby a friend. Completely independent of her son.

  So even though Chase Malone was the last thing she should be thinking about, she was headed over to check on his mom. Then she would call Chris, who was her current ‘person,’ and see what time his shift ended at The Grill, where he bartended.

  Chris was nice, funny, and good-looking, and the sex was good. There was only one problem. He just wasn’t …Chase.

  * * *

  “Oh my God! I can’t believe it’s really you!” the exuberant fan squealed as she jumped up and down.

  Her tall friend sucked in a shaky breath as tears pooled in her large brown eyes. “I think I might pass out.”

  “If you could stand here…” Tully, Chase’s assistant, placed one girl to his right before turning to the other and motioning to his left. “And then you are right here.”

  Chase smiled as he stood between two girls and posed for a picture. Their energy was palpable, radiating off of them like heat from the sun. He loved meeting fans and appreciated the fact that he was where he was because of them. It was just odd sometimes to have all that fanatical energy focused solely on him.

  Onstage, it was a different story. It didn’t matter if he were playing for ten people or ten thousand—when he was performing, it was like a relationship. It felt intimate. Like an equal exchange of energy where he was giving something to them and they were giving something to him.

  It had taken him several years to get used to the attention he received offstage. He still wasn’t one hundred percent comfortable with it, and he wasn’t sure if he ever would be. It wasn’t a natural phenomenon. It was strange and unusual. To have people not just say that they love you, but mean it. To burst into tears when you walk into a room, pass out, jump up and down, basically lose their minds by your mere presence, was not something a person, at least not something that he, could ever really justify in his mind.

  “Can you sign this?” the brunette to his left asked breathlessly.

  “Of course,” he agreed and took the CD from her hand. “What’s your name?”

  “Ariel,” she replied.

  He smiled and signed the CD, thanking the two girls for coming to his show as his assistant escorted his next fan in line up to the photo op.

  “Hi, I love you so much! I know all of your songs by heart! My favorite is ‘Saving Me’. I think I’ve listened to it like a million times! Look, I even got this,” the girl spoke rapidly as she lifted her shirt to reveal that she had a line of the lyrics of the song tattooed down the side of her body with music notes at each end.

  “That’s amazing. It’s beautiful.” Chase read the lyrics and tried to block out the memories, to push down the emotion that rose up in him every time he saw it. He’d written that song when he was fifteen after one of the worst nights of his life.

  “Saving Me” was Midnight Rush’s biggest hit to date. That was the song the band won their first Grammy for. It had been optioned for a movie soundtrack as well, for which they’d received an Oscar nomination for Best Original Song.

  The ironic thing about that was that Chase had never meant to release it. He’d never meant for anyone except for Krista, the person he’d written it for, to hear it. KC, one of his band members, had seen the music and lyrics scribbled down in one of his notebooks on their first tour, when they had all been packed like smelly sardines into the van, with no privacy whatsoever. He’d tried to refuse to record it. But since early on the four members had agreed that everything band related would be put to a vote, they did just that. Needless to say, he’d been outvoted and “Saving Me” was the first song they’d recorded for their sophomore release. As their first single, its popularity had spread like wildfire, and really, the song had taken on a life of its own.

  Without that song, who knew if they’d have reached the success they’d been able to reach. Who knew if he’d be where he was. Those words he had written at fifteen were true then and they were just as true now. The lyrics to “Saving Me” had been like a prophecy. Krista was still saving him.

  Chase
spent the next forty-five minutes meeting fans, taking pictures, signing everything from body parts to CDs, posters to mementos. The strangest personal item he put his John Hancock on had to be an inhaler. That was a first—he’d never signed medication before. He fielded all of the same questions he’d been getting since he’d announced his solo project and some he’d been getting for years before that.

  “When is your next album coming out?”

  “When are you announcing tour dates?”

  “Why did you leave Midnight Rush?”

  “Is Midnight Rush ever going to get back together?”

  “Are you dating anyone?”

  There were also the occasional offers to carry his baby, and of course there were proposals, both marriage and indecent. He tried to be in the moment. Be present. He’d found that it was a trick to not let the outpouring of affection overwhelm him. Also, he honestly believed that each fan deserved his individual attention.

  Normally during meet and greets, he was able to do exactly that. But tonight, after seeing the lyrics he’d written as a private love letter permanently inked on a stranger’s body, all he could think about was the girl he’d written them about. There wasn’t a second that Krista Sloan wasn’t on his mind. The only question was whether or not she was dominating his thoughts or hanging out in the background.

  As the photographer snapped the final picture with the last person in the small conference room, Chase knew he needed to get his head in the game. He only had a couple of hours until showtime and he needed to use that time to refocus his energy on the second love of his life. Music.

  “Let’s get you back to the green room,” Tully said, as he motioned for the two men his management had hired as bodyguards to follow them through the back halls of the venue to the room designated for talent.

  Chase hated having security. Even though on some rational level he knew it was for his own safety, especially since he’d had a few close calls with some fans who were not mentally stable. Still, it bothered him that as a grown man, he had to have other grown men walk him through a building.