Too Close // Alex Clare

My hotel room on this stop is not a home away from home. They never are. In fact, this room feels a little like a prison. On a glance it's a nice room. Luxurious even with soft sheets and shiny surfaces. The towels are fluffy and warm. There's a minifridge with every hard liquor known to man and if I was a heavy drinker, I wouldn't have to go 2 steps to feed my addiction. I'm not a drinker, but damnit if the idea to break the seal on the whiskey isn't crossing my mind. I'm not luxuriating in the crisp environment and clean smell surrounding me this time. This room is a cage and I'm a lion itching to escape.

The sensation of being trapped is too strong. I tend to keep myself moving while we're at an extended stop, especially on my off hours. I usually check on our team, keep tabs on Brianna, review security footage and monitor the paparazzi. I'll even spend time in the hotel gym working off the stress of all that other crap. There's no such thing as down time because my brain never shuts off when I'm away from home. This tour is no different, except for the way my fists keep clenching.

I'm itching to tear something apart.

This is our first stop, and not one that Colleen is bringing Katie to. Maybe that's why I can't get ahold of myself. I'm missing my kid. But it's not my kid's face that keeps flashing in my mind when I least expect it.

I grind my teeth as my fists are clenching. I should hit the gym, work this off, but I don't trust myself in public at the moment. I've never been this fucked up and I'm not sure what to blame. It's been building all day, starting at the concert venue.

Our morning was spent at Brianna's technical rehearsal, something she does at the more elaborate venues to make sure her team is on point way before sound check even happens. My eyes scanned the surroundings constantly, looking for anything that stood out as a potential threat. And now as I think back on it, I realize I was hoping to land on someone, almost begging something to catch my eye. I'm in fight mode and the reason for it is fucking with my head.

I miss my people.

Of course, I miss Katie. I hate going this long without putting my arms around her. She centers me. I can take deeper breaths when I have her close by. But missing her isn't what's stirring the tension in my core. I'm used to missing Katie.

But now, I miss Colleen. I miss her in a way that's pissing me off. I've pulled my phone out more times than I can count, intending to call her, then pocketing the thing because of the way my heart climbs into my throat when I do it.

What the fuck?

I'm pissing myself off. I'd deck myself if I could to knock some sense into me, but I don't think I'd get in a good enough hit to do the job.

I decide to take my chances in the gym, hoping a long ass run on the tread mill might take the edge off. I'd try some deadlifts, but I don't have a spotter. Cardio will have to do the trick.

I'm grabbing the door handle to leave the room when someone pounds on it from the other side.

"Open up, Clinton. I need some man tips!"

The voice on the other side is attached to a pain in my ass. Jacob, Zack's best friend and wannabe actor, is currently working as a roadie for the tour in between gigs. He's a high maintenance nightmare.

I yank open the door to find the kid with a shit-eating grin staring back at me. He's a pretty boy stepping into the lion's den as he barrels past me slamming my door as he goes.

"Just the man I need to see." He rubs his hands together.

"What is it?" I remain fixed next to the door, willing to leave him here and make an escape if I need to.

"Tell me all about those killer looks you give the female population. I need tips from the best if I'm going to do this right."

I don't even want to know what he's talking about. "I have no killer looks."

"You know," he rolls his hand in a circle, "the flirting. You have it down to a science."

My stomach clenches at the accusation. It's not an image I want or attempt to portray.

"I don't flirt."

"Why are you gatekeeping, Clinton? Spread the wealth. Share your skills, man."

"I told you. I don't flirt."

"The ladies drool when you walk by. I know you aren't purposefully putting out a vibe. But it's there. Floating around in the atmosphere. Stronger than the wifi."

I shrug, not having a clue what he means.

"Okay, tell me this." He leans forward. "What's going through your head when you're pushing through a crowd? What's your motivation?"

"Get Bree to the venue. Don't let any fucker touch her."

"Ah. It's the protective vibe. Got it. I can do that."

The protective vibe. He says it like it's no big deal. All my life, that's what I've done. It led me to the military, to the force, to private security. The unquenchable need to keep everyone in my world safe has screwed my life up. I've never been blind to the fact that it pulled me away from my family and became the thing I lived for when my life should have revolved around them. The fact that I was about to hit the gym so I didn't hit someone else, is proof that I haven't really changed my ways.

I'm fucking pissed off because as usual I have no control over when and where Katie sees me. But now, Colleen has been added to the list along with my daughter. I miss the fuck out of both of them and I'm seeing red because of it.

That didn't end well the last time I felt this messed up. Mara took herself out of the equation and I'm still standing here, left with the broken pieces of my family.

"It ruined my marriage, so I don't recommend trying it on for size."

"Sorry, man. That must suck."

I run a hand over my face and down my newly bushy beard. It's grown out a lot on this tour. "It sucks donkey balls, man. I lost her trust without even trying. She couldn't handle the life, so I got off the force and started this security business. She left me anyway. Now I see my kid every other weekend. When I'm in town. And two weeks every summer."

Jacob sits down, much more somber than when he entered my room. The fucking black hole of hope.

"Whoever it is that you're trying to impress, just be yourself. Don't make shit up. Don't do a song and dance to get her attention. Be real. Be open. Be honest. That's the only way to do it right. And if you're in it to score, don't. The ripple effect will hurt more than your reputation. Trust me."

My inner voice is screaming at me. I'm a fucking liar, but I'm lying to myself, not Jacob. Be open? Yeah, that's a hard line for me. Being open is what tears your guts out. I might never be open again.

"You didn't cheat on your ex, did you?" Jacob looks at me from the corner of his eye.

"Fuck no! Why would you even think that?" I can feel the heat burning my face. I would never.

Hands up in surrender, Jacob looks taken back. "Sorry. It's just how that all made it sound. My bad."

I turn away from him, take a deep breath, and confess.

"She cheated on me. She stayed with the guy. Married him. He's my kid's stepdad. Sees her more than I do. He's raising her. That," I point at him, "is the ripple effect of selfish fucking behavior." I may have a protective vibe, but I'm not stupid enough to fool myself that it's more out of selfishness than anything else.

"Fuck, dude. That's dark."

"Ya think?" I shake my head. "I'm heading to the gym."

Jacob rises from his seat on the end of my bed and follows me.

"Ah, yes. The vibe does extend to those muscles. Maybe I should work out with you. It'll help with hauling the gear after a show, too."

"Hasn't Zack been working you to the bone to prep for that big movie role you're going for?"

"Didn't get it so I dropped most of his workout plan. Thanks for bringing that up, by the way. Still kind of a sore spot."

I can't help the smirk his words give me. "So sorry to hear that." I slap him on the back. Letting his misery take some of mine away. Two hours of cardio later—Jacob is a shit spotter, so I didn't even bother with the weights—and I'm a little more human than before. A bit sweaty, and definitely in need of a shower, but closer to myself than I was earlier. What the fuck was all of that anxiety? Thank Fuck I can breathe now.

Maybe I can handle a phone call.

I open my contacts, landing on Colleen's. I don't allow any hesitation as I hit the call button. I won't let myself spiral back down to the devil I was earlier.

"Clinton, hey! I was wondering when I'd hear from you."

Fuck. My knees buckle just enough to pull my ass to the mattress. I lean forward for support because suddenly my breathing is shit.

"Yeah, it's been busy so far." I shake my head, hoping like hell I sound more stable than I feel.

"I bet. How's the tour so far. I haven't had a chance to talk to Bree. I'm sure you've got her surrounded at all times. Keeping the bad guys away."

"I do my best." Again, fuck. Why did I call? I don't even remember. Too much of my energy is being focused on chilling the fuck out. My heart is back up my throat.

"You do." Colleen sighs and I break out in a cold sweat. "You really are the best at your job, you know?"

"How-" I choke as I speak. After a forced swallow, I try again. "How do you know that?"

She hums. "Oh, a little songbird might have mentioned that you're the only one she trusts. Other than her boyfriend, that is." Colleen laughs. "I feel exactly the same."

"You trust me?" The words are out of my mouth before I think them through. This feels different than our usual conversations about whatever show she's watching or what Katie is up to.

I'm not sure I can handle her answer.

"Of course, I do." Her words are quiet, hardly more than a whisper. Like she's telling me a secret. "Your words are met with action. You are who you say you are."

"That's just being a man."

Colleen laughs again. "If only! I don't know many men as trustworthy as you are. Zack is, but that's about it. Most men are game players, painting a picture of who they think you want them to be but never intending to actually be that person."

I was right. Her answer unnerves me. I'm not sure why, but it does. This phone call has ruined the endorphins I had from my workout.

"Well, glad I live up to the hype." I rub a hand across my forehead, trying like hell to avoid the headache that's building. "I better check in with my team before the concert."

"Have a great show! Call me soon," she says, all casual like I didn't need to burn 500 calories before calling her.

"Sure thing," I promise before ending the call. Fuck. At this rate, the only sure thing is this tour will drive me to drink.

Gah, Clinton is a wreck and we're just getting started! How is he going to handle an entire book??? I know this one is a bit short, but the guy couldn't handle much more today. I may edit to add some description (which is my weakest writing area, jeez!!!).

ALSO - did you catch the crossover from Jacob's story? The flirting lessons scene was also in his book but I did make a change. In Player, I had Clinton confessing that his ex had remarried, had a baby with the guy and the guy had left her. I've since developed their story more in detail so that part had to go. It's now a reflection of the step dad getting more time with Katie. Player's scene will be updated to match this one.

This song feels a little like Clinton's mental struggle right now. He's messed up. I originally had it on another playlist for another story with my writing partner, but that story will most likely never be finished and the playlist is full of bangers so I'm stealing them!

https://youtu.be/zP50Ewh31E4

Thanks for reading!! Happy Holidays ❤️