My feet are sore, the straps of my bags cut into my shoulders, and the weight of the suitcase is dragging me down. To add to the misery I’m all out of money. But I don’t care. I’ll walk back to New Jersey if I have to.

Falling for Jay was a terrible mistake. All I was to him was another dumb conquest.

I hate him.

The night sky is pitch-black and I’m making my way down some narrow road, just off the Interstate. Occasionally a car zooms by. I try my hand at hitchhiking but no one stops. Obviously all those indie road movies I watch are nothing but a myth.

I don’t know how long I’ve been walking for . . .

An hour . . .

Maybe two . . . ?

My phone buzzes in my pocket.

Dropping my bags I check my cell and see fifteen new messages in my inbox. I make no attempt to read them. I don’t want to know. I’ll explain all to Monica when I eventuality get home, if I don’t die out here from pneumonia.

After walking a few more minutes, I break. I drop my backs down to the gravel road and take out a hipflask of water from the smaller bag across my shoulder. The rage and sorrow I felt have been replaced with regret. Maybe I was too hasty? Maybe I should have stuck it out?

As I drink the last drop of water in my flask, a bright light creeps over the horizon to my right. Hoping I can finally catch a lift, at least to the nearest bus station, I walk out into the middle of the road and flag it down.

As the light draws closer, the vehicle slows. Squinting, I can just about make out the shape of a motorcycle.

Shit.

“Krissy.”

I turn my back on him, fetch up my bags, and walk away as fast as my legs will carry me.

“Krissy,” he calls again.

“Get lost, Jay.”

He slowly rides up beside me. “Please, let me explain.”

I stop. “What . . . to say sorry again? How many times are you going to treat me like crap? I thought we had something.”

“We did. We do.” He revs the engine. “Get on.”

“No.” I charge ahead.

Speeding past me he makes a U-turn, approaching me again before pulling on the break and blocking my path. “You’re going the wrong way.”

“It won’t work, Jay.”

“What won’t work?”

“Your cute little one-liners, the private song reveals . . . all your bullshit. You think that because you’re this big rock star I’m just gonna keep running into your arms. Well I’m not one of your stupid airhead groupies, Jay. I have a brain!”

“I know. That’s why I like you so much.”

I pause. I really don’t have much choice to go with him, unless I want to be eaten by wild coyotes or have some strange guy in a pickup truck murder me in the dead of night.

“I’ll explain all.” He stretches his hand out toward me. “Jump on.”

I take a deep breath.

Climbing onto the back, I struggle to keep by bags together. Creating a wedge with my suitcase between us, I pull the rest of my stuff over my back.

I look down at the chrome and steel of the Harley Davison. “Where did you get this?”

“The trunk of the bus. It’s Mike’s pride and joy.”

He takes his foot off the break. “Hold tight.”

Reluctantly, I hook my arms around his waist.

* * *

I place the note down on the table and run my fingers over my scalp, looking off into space. We’ve been talking on the bus for the last half hour. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a crazy stalker?”

He opens up a can of beer from the mini-refrigerator and takes a seat next to me. “I never thought I’d have to. I was sure she was locked up and long gone.”

“She really attacked you?”

Jay lifts up his shirt and points to the tattoo of a dragon across his left pec.

Uncertain of what I’m looking at, I shake my head and find his gaze again.

He takes my hand and places my finger on the dragon’s tail. “Feel that?” he asks.

“Yeah . . . fuck.”

“Bitch stabbed me with a switchblade. The doctors said I was lucky I didn’t end up with a punctured lung.”

“Jay, you have to call the police. Yeah, okay, the girl is sick. And yes you messed around with her . . . but it’s not your fault. That girl needs help, before she does something else . . . maybe worse.”

“Now you know why I chucked you out. I didn’t want you hurt.”

I breathe out through my nose. “I’m a big girl now. I’ve just finished college, trust me . . . there’s a crop of pyscho bitches in those places. I can handle myself.”

He laughs.

“Sure you want to carry on with the rest of the tour?” I ask.

“For the band . . . yes.”

“Then just step up security. And if you get a whiff of her hanging around, get the cops involved.”

“Will you be okay?”

“Yes. I have Monica looking out for me.”

He looks at me with a glint in his eye.

My brows pinch. “What?”

“Remember when I told you I thought you were lost?”

I slowly nod. “Yeah . . . what was that about?”

He takes my hand in his and runs delicate circles across my knuckles with his thumb. Looking deep into my gaze, he smiles. “Well, I was talking shit . . . it was me who was lost. But then . . . I found you.”

I snort. “Stop it.”

He holds my hand tight. “I mean it, Krissy. I want a future with you, a real future.”

My heart almost bursts from my chest. “Jay . . .”

He leans forward. “Of course, only if that’s cool with you.”

The corners of my lips curl. “Okay, but on one condition . . .”

“Whatever you say, angel.”

“Push me away again and it’s off.”

He smirks. “I can live with that.”

“I’m serious, Jay. Fuck with me, just one more time, and you’ll have more than that crazy fan to deal with.”

We hug each other.

A hug turns to a kiss.

A kiss turns to predictably earth shaking make up sex.

And for the first time—and not via a poster on my bedroom wall—I can say that I’m deeply and madly in love with Jay Tyler. It’s crazy . . . but crazy’s more than good on this occasion.