Can't Go Back

by Marie Meyer

  “Can I tell you something?” I spoke, trying to mask the groan of pleasure she elicited.

  “What?” she whispered, still tracing the lines of my tattoo. Still driving me insane.

  “I feel the same way.”

  Sliding her hand beneath my arm, she wrapped her fingers around my bicep and squeezed. “You do?”

  I tightened my grip around her hand that was still under the pillow, anything to keep my mind on the conversation and not what I really wanted to do with her. “‘Forced’ is the perfect way to describe everything.” An unbelievable amount of force. I knew if I just gave in to the force acting on us, pushing us together, everything would be easier. But I couldn’t. I had Erin’s feelings to consider.

  Jillian blinked a few times, almost as if she were shocked by my answer. Her eyebrows pulled close together when she scrunched her face. “The same can be said for you. You’re following your dream. The band’s doing well and you’ve got Erin, what’s not right?”

  I didn’t like the confusion on her face, the worry. I let go of her hand and with my fingers smoothed the creases between her eyes. “None of the band’s success feels right without you there to share it with. And Erin…” With all the seriousness I could muster, I stared at Jillian. I wanted her to read between the lines, to know how much I’d fucked up in May, when I’d pushed her away. “She’s not who I want.”

  Tears fell from her eyes and she gripped my arm harder, refusing to let go. “Who do you want?” she choked.

  With my thumb I brushed her cheek. Then a loud beeping sound blared from my pocket. “Fuck,” I mumbled, and shot up, pulling my phone out.

  Jillian sat up, too. “Who is it?”

  I gave the screen a quick glance and saw my sister’s name and picture. I didn’t answer the call, but quieted it instead. “It’s Ren. I’ve got her car.”

  “Oh.” Her voice was hoarse.

  I held my hand out to her. When she placed her tiny palm in mine, I yanked her into my arms. Instantly her arms went around my waist, and she buried her head between my arm and chest, refusing to let go.

  I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. These last few months had been torture. With Jillian pressed against me, my arms enveloping her, I couldn’t go back to the way things had been before she kissed me. No matter how hard I tried, Erin would never fit into my heart like Jillian did.

  My pulse beat loudly in my ears and my throat was thick. I didn’t want to leave her. Every fiber of my being screamed stay. Things had changed between us this weekend, and I knew Jillian felt it, too.

  * * *

  On a steady diet of Monster Energy drinks and chips, and with a few stops for gas, I managed to shave two and a half hours off an otherwise eighteen-hour road trip. Not to mention the fact that Ren’s car was most comfortable sailing down the interstate at eighty-five; that seemed to help ease some of the tension I’d felt since leaving Jillian crying in the parking lot.

  Once I hit exit thirteen, I took the ramp and made a left to drop in on my parents instead of heading right to go to my apartment. I pressed the hands-free dialing feature on Ren’s steering wheel and let the car dial her number for me. After three rings Ren’s voice came through the speakers. “Dude, you home yet?”

  I adjusted the volume, bringing it down a notch before I spoke. “Yeah, I’m on my way to Mom and Dad’s. Be there in ten.”

  “Cool. I’m here. Did you have a nice visit?”

  “Yep.”

  “Sooo,” she drawled. “Give me details. How is Jill?”

  I rolled my eyes. Whatever she was fishing for, she wasn’t going to get it. “She’s good.”

  “Good? You’ve got to give me more than that! What did you guys do?”

  “Um…hung out?” I offered.

  “When you get here, I expect a better answer than ‘good,’ baby bro,” she scolded.

  Irritation got the better of me, and I snapped, “I don’t know what more you want. Jillian’s fine. I helped her with some school project, we ate pizza, did some shopping, and now I’m home.”

  “Well, aren’t you just a ray of sunshine. I thought a weekend with Jillian would have at least put you in a better mood.”

  Yeah, I thought so, too. Now I’m more at odds with myself. “Whatever,” I groaned. At times my sister could be as annoying as a housefly. “I’m here.”

  Pulling into the gravel drive, I pushed a button on the steering wheel to disconnect the call. The radio resumed playing Morphine as I shut off the engine.

  I pushed open the car door and freed myself from the confines of Ren’s glorified tin can. God, I missed my bike.

  “Hey, big guy,” Ren yelled from the porch. She pulled the front door shut behind her and ran down the steps. With open arms she wrapped me in a hug. “Glad you’re back.”

  I closed my arms around her shoulders and squeezed. As annoying as she was, we were really close. I’d do anything for her.

  “Thanks for the wheels.” I clapped a hand on her back and she pulled away, smiling.

  “Anytime, Bro. Besides, it was fun…and cold, riding around town on your bike.” She giggled.

  I stepped back, jaw dropped in horror. “You didn’t.”

  She shrugged, still laughing.

  I was about to take off running for the garage, where I’d left my baby, but Ren squeezed my arm.

  “Whoa, don’t have a heart attack. You know I’d never get on that thing. I was just messing with you.”

  I relaxed my shoulders and swung my arm around her neck, securing her in a headlock. “Don’t mess with the bike,” I warned playfully. Even though she was my older sister, I was still bigger than her.

  I dragged Ren toward the house. “Mom and Dad home?”

  She nodded her head, still anchored between my forearm and bicep. “Yep.”

  We walked to the side of the house, and I let go of her head so I could open the door. Ren stepped into the house, and I followed.

  “Baby boy,” Mom crooned. “How was your trip?” She stood at the sink, loading the dishwasher.

  “Hey, Ma.” Taking two steps in her direction, I folded her into a hug. She and Jillian were just about the same size.

  Without missing a beat, Awesomesauce came barreling around the corner into the kitchen, barking and wagging his tail at my feet. I let go of Mom and bent down to pet him. “Hey, little buddy.” I scratched behind his big ears and he was putty in my hands, rolling over so I would scratch his belly, too.

  “How is Jillian?” Mom asked, turning and wiping her hands on a dish towel. “It’s been a little over a week since I’ve spoken with her.”

  “Yeah,” Ren added in a sassy tone. “How is she?”

  I sighed, knowing that I wasn’t getting out of this kitchen without telling them something. “She’s good. School’s keeping her busy. She also told me to tell you she misses you both.” Jillian hadn’t really, but I knew she did. She loved my mom and sister like they were her own.

  “I’m so glad she wasn’t alone on Thanksgiving,” Mom said.

  So was I.

  Ren sat down at the kitchen table and Awesomesauce scrambled to his feet and waddled over to her. She leaned over to pet him, and I stood up.

  “Has she made any progress on that project that’s been giving her fits?” Mom asked.

  “A little.” In my head I could still hear her laughing at my attempts to help her. “It’s definitely challenging her.”

  “That’s great. Now, if only I could get you to follow Jillian’s example.”

  I groaned and looked at the ceiling, pushing my hands through my hair. “Mom, don’t start.”

  “Seriously, Griffin, it’s time to start taking school more seriously. You have wasted so much time piddling around at the junior college. Have you even applied to the university? Graduation isn’t that far off.”

  The last thing on my mind right now was going to a four-year university after I graduated from the junior college. I was banking on the spring tour Dane was putting together.
If that went through, I was done with school.

  I dropped my hands and looked my Mom in the eyes. “Mom, I’m doing what I want to do right now. The band is my first priority.”

  Exasperated, Mom threw the dish towel on the counter. “Griffin,” she shouted, “I’ve seen it a hundred times. How many of those American Idols or Voice winners actually make it in the music business? They’re famous for a while, but then everyone forgets about them. Well, except for that Underwood girl, she’s really good. And pretty.”

  Jesus, now she’s comparing me to people who’ve won a fucking talent show? “What I’ve got going, Mom, is a little different from what you watch on TV.” I threw Ren a silent plea for help. She shrugged and returned her attention to Awesomesauce, who was now curled into a comfortable ball on her lap.

  Thanks a lot, Sis!

  This was bullshit. I was twenty-one goddamned years old. My parents needed to understand that I wasn’t their baby boy anymore; I was a man. It was time I started living my life the way I wanted. “Mom, I’m not finishing school.” There. I’d dropped the bomb.

  Mom froze.

  I looked at Ren. Her face matched Mom’s.

  “Excuse me?” she whispered, still reeling.

  I leaned against the counter and folded my arms across my chest. “There’s a good possibility Mine Shaft is going out on tour in May. I won’t have time to finish out the semester. I’m a recording artist, Ma. That’s my chosen profession. Not business. We all know school has never come easy to me. Music is something I’m good at. Mine Shaft needs my full attention right now.” I kept my stance firm. She needed to know I was serious, and I wasn’t going to change my mind. “I have to take this chance, Mom. School will always be there, but this opportunity may not.” I begged her to understand where I was coming from, that this was my dream.

  Without a word she walked past me, out of the room.

  I’d known she wouldn’t understand. I turned to Ren. “Thanks for the car.” I tossed the keys onto the table and stormed out the back door. Why was everything so black-and-white with her? Not everyone was cut out for school.

  From outside I heard Dad calling, “Griffin, wait. Come back here. We need to talk about this.”

  I kept walking. I was done talking.

  Standing next to my bike, I swung my leg over and gave it a start. I revved the engine a couple of times and shot down the driveway faster than I should have, checking for oncoming traffic a second before I flew into the street.

  “Fuck!” It felt good to scream. I felt liberated.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  For the next week and a half, I dodged calls from my parents and my sister—whom I was sure Mom had recruited into calling on her behalf. I couldn’t take any more talk about what a fuckup I was, and how I was ruining my life by pursuing a music career. If anything, the time I’d spent with Jillian had helped me put things in perspective. It was time I manned up and took control of my life.

  I buried myself in music. I lived at the studio. When I wasn’t recording, I was in the booth with Leo, mixing. I loved the production side of things, turning raw, uncut music into something radio-playable.

  I found it easy to hide from everyone when I was at the studio. It was even easy to pretend that I wasn’t in a weird place when it came to Jillian. Right now music was the only thing that made sense.

  Sitting in the booth, I listened to Nee pound out the rhythm to “Home,” the song slated to be the third track on our album. She’d done a couple of other sessions, but didn’t feel like she’d nailed this piece. She was a musical perfectionist, like me.

  When she finished she stood up, twirled her sticks, and slid them into her back pocket before giving me a thumbs-up and a smile.

  I held up my thumbs and switched on the comm mic. “You nailed it that time.”

  “Yeah, that felt good,” she said, out of breath. Stepping away from the set, she made her way to the booth. Inside she held out her fist to me.

  I knocked it back and said, “That’s it for you, girl.”

  She plopped into the chair beside mine and exhaled. She listened while I played back her tracks. I adjusted some settings and cleaned up the sound on the toms and the bass drum.

  “Wait, wait,” she said, sitting up. “Play that back a sec.”

  I backed up the track and trained an ear, trying to catch the “off” sound.

  “You hear that?” Nee leaned over me and adjusted a few settings. “The sound coming from the toms isn’t right.” She shook her head, scrunching up her nose. “There, play it back again.”

  I backed up the track once more. Neither of us dared to breathe as we listened to the slight adjustments Nee had made. “Bingo,” she said, clapping and sending her office chair spinning. “That’s better.” The chair came to rest and she sat back with a beatific smile.

  “Feeling pretty good about yourself, huh?” I laughed.

  “Fuck yeah. That song is complicated. Whoever wrote it obviously never sat behind a drum set.” She winked and gave me a sidelong glance.

  I flipped her off and grinned back. “I’ll take that as a compliment…I think? And I’ll have you know Adam contributed heavily on that project.”

  “I’m sure he did.” She rolled her eyes and leaned closer, nudging my arm with her shoulder. “Anyway,” she sighed. “You spending the night here, or something? All work and no play makes Griffin a dull boy,” she sang.

  “Shit! What time is it?” I searched for my phone, not remembering where I’d left it when I came into the booth. “I have to be at Erin’s at six.”

  “You’d better get a move on, then.” Nee held my phone out to me. “You got like twenty minutes.”

  “Shit.” I grabbed my phone from her hand and my jacket off the back of the chair, and raced out of the booth.

  “Good luck, big guy,” Nee shouted after me.

  On my way out of the studio, I texted Erin, Sorry, Peach, ran late @ the studio. OMW.

  Since I’d gotten back from Rhode Island, I’d put Erin off, too. I knew I had to end things, there just hadn’t been a good time. So tonight was going to be it. She wasn’t busy, and I’d asked if I could come over. She’d sounded excited about the prospect of hanging out together, which made me feel like shit, knowing what I planned to do.

  Traffic wasn’t too heavy on the way back into Illinois, and I went straight to her apartment. I pulled into her lot and killed the engine, shoving down the kickstand with my foot. Erin’s front door opened and one of her roommates came skipping down the sidewalk.

  “Hi, Griffin. Erin’s inside. You can go on in.”

  “Thanks.” I stepped onto the sidewalk, giving her a wide berth. I’d only met her once before, and I couldn’t for the life of me remember her name.

  “I can’t believe Erin’s dating a rock star.” She grinned widely and batted her eyelashes. “I bet you look really good when you’re onstage.”

  Her words hit me like a ton of bricks, and I couldn’t ignore the look on her face, a look that screamed, I’m a desperate groupie and I’ll do ANYTHING you want.

  For some this look would have brought on the “Hell yes!” response, but it did the exact opposite for me—I hadn’t signed up for the popularity that came with a record deal, and I probably wouldn’t ever be comfortable with it.

  “Um…,” I sputtered. “Yeah, live shows are way better than working in the studio.” I tried to deflect her attention to something other than how I looked on stage.

  “When does your album come out?” she asked, ducking her head to drape her purse strap across her body and cinch up her coat. It was beyond cold outside, and I was frozen after a thirty-minute ride from St. Louis. Not even my winter riding gear held up against single-digit temps.

  “January.” I kept my answers short, hoping to end the conversation quickly.

  “Well, let me know when it does. I’ll totally buy it,” she giggled.

  I pressed my lips into a tight smile. “I’ll keep you posted.” I took
a slight step toward the porch and lowered my chin. “I shouldn’t keep Erin waiting.” I hitched my thumb in the direction of the door.

  “Oh, yeah. Sorry,” she said hurriedly. “See you later.”

  “Yeah. Later.” I took a deep breath, exhaling on my way up to the small concrete patio.

  I knocked on the door and a beat later Erin’s smiling face approached. She opened the door and I stepped inside. Erin stepped back toward the center of the living room and twirled, showing off a short denim skirt, a sparkly tank top, and black cowboy boots. She looked like she’d just stepped out of a Dukes of Hazzard rerun. She looked hot.

  While my eyes swept over every inch of her, she shimmied and said, “Whaddaya think?” Her accent controlling each syllable.

  “I…uh…” I couldn’t talk; she’d knocked the words clear out of me. I wanted to tell her she looked hot, but that would be totally inappropriate considering the fact that I was about to break up with her. Instead I opted for something much more tame: “It’s awfully cold out there if you’re planning on going somewhere. You might want to wear something a little warmer.”

  Her face went from playful to serious as she put a hand on her hip. “Dude, that was not the reaction I was after.”

  Damn, this sucks. I ran my hand through my hair and blew out a breath as I went to sit on the couch.

  “Griffin,” she whispered. “Is everything all right?” She picked up on my strange behavior right away. Sitting down beside me, she rested her hand on my leg.

  I patted her hand with mine, but didn’t look at her. I couldn’t. I didn’t want to hurt her. She was a smart, considerate, beautiful woman. She just wasn’t…Jillian.

  Erin lifted her hand and placed it on my jaw, a gentle touch to shift my eyes in her direction.

  “Griffin, hear me out,” she said, dropping her hand once our eyes locked. “I get it.”

  I opened my mouth to say something, but she shook her head and pressed a finger to my lips.

  “Uh-uh.” She shook her head. “I’ve needed to say this for a while, let me finish, please.”