by Bowie, Emily
“What can I say? Rock stars aren’t my thing.” Half of my lip tilts upward, while I rock on my heels.
“Country singer,” she corrects. “Everyone knows this. How do you not?”
I shrug, keeping the fact secret that I do know who Rhett Steele is. I once was very close to his family. Not that he and I had ever met before.
“Come on, let’s go and get a good seat.” I tug her willing body inside the dim room that surprisingly doesn’t smell like stale beer. Instead, a drifting peach smell lingers in the room. It’s clean and neat, not what I was expecting at all.
The small wooden stage is the focal point of the room, with the bar off to the side. A line of women has already gathered in front of the stage. Looking around, I scan a perfect place for me to hide in the shadows, just like I told Nate I would do.
CHAPTER 8
I tell myself the only reason I’m in this middle of nowhere town is because Rhett asked me to come. In the last decade, he has never once asked for anything. This is the least I can do. I miss my older brother. He’s the black sheep of our family, who left town as soon as he could drive. He hated ranch chores and would rather play his guitar all hours of the day.
Stepping out of my truck, I look around to see women everywhere. It’s like this dive bar is the honey hive for all the local wildlife in the area. The women swarm it in flocks. By the time I get in the place, there is standing room only. This is the opposite of a sausage party. It’s a sea of pink pearls, all for my brother.
Well, damn. No wonder he never wants to come home, if this waits for him every night.
Just as I decide to see if I can fight my way to the bar, Rhett’s manager Dick squeezes my shoulder. He nods, not saying a word. Not that I would be able to hear him very well. The chatter of the women floats over the music from the local radio station as they all stand talking to each other near the stage, waiting for the man of the hour to start singing to them.
He leads us into the back, where the small kitchen and cooler are located. Rhett stands plucking his guitar, testing his strings out. There is a metal bucket full of ice and four beer bottles. Without looking up, he bends over, tossing me a cold one.
“So, this is what it’s like to be you.” I’m not sure if I should be awestruck or thank fuck this life isn’t mine.
He grunts out a response, still working on his old guitar, the same one he’s been playing since he was a teen.
“Let me know if any of them catch your eye. I’ll set a brother up.” He grins at me. “I’ve already picked mine out.” He chuckles at his own comment.
“You crook a finger and they come running?”
He tilts his head in agreement, for the first time looking up at me. “Sometimes I have to pretend to try.” Picking up a beer, he does his old party trick of flicking the cap off with his teeth.
“You’ll see. I’ll pick her from the crowd and serenade her. Then they do all the rest.”
“That’s all it takes?” That sounds boring to me.
Like my brother can read my thoughts, he explains further, “Trust me, if a girl of any substance liked me for being me, I would be all over that. Triple points if she made me work for it. Who doesn’t love a good chase? But that’s not my life.”
“If I see anyone, I’ll let you know,” I unenthusiastically say, trying to control my eye roll. I doubt any girl in here would be interested in me when I stand two feet away from Rhett. This isn’t my type of crowd either. “I’m just happy to see you again.”
With that, Rhett gives me a stiff nod and slaps me on the shoulder.
“It’s show time.” He wiggles his eyebrows. I can see the transformation in him as he turns from brother to superstar. Pointing a finger to Dick, he mandates, “Anything this guy wants, he gets.”
“Yes, boss.” Dick gives a sharp nod, taking his job very seriously.
I watch from behind as Rhett’s presence takes over the room. Grown women begin to scream like they once did at the Backstreet Boys decades ago. I slip from behind, taking a stand off in the shadows on the side. I’m lost in a sea of women.
As Rhett gets started, a pair of panties flies through the air, landing in front of him. He keeps playing like it never happened. Our lives are completely opposite from each other. I don’t know how he can do this day in and day out. I like my peace of mind.
I stay leaning against the wall with Dick showing up every now and then, passing me another cold one and checking if any “thing” catches my eye. The way he asks seems so mechanical. If a girl catches my eye, I will be the one to talk to her. No middleman will be walking up to her for me, like she is a fresh piece of meat.
I scan the crowd, never thinking so many people would show up for this event when it is so far out of town. Everyone sings along to each word of every song, the room swaying with intoxication of the love songs Rhett belts out. I’m pretty sure these women are living through those lyrics as if he were singing to them.
The room goes silent, bringing my attention back to the stage. Rhett’s fingers have stopped strumming; his words have floated out of the room. The crowd sits on edge, needing more of his magic.
That’s when I see him point someone out. His come-hither smile is fixed in place. This must be the one he talked about earlier.
I watch as heads begin to bob, but no one comes on stage. This does nothing to deter my brother. Handing his guitar off, he strides through the crowd, unafraid of being mauled to death. I can see him leading someone up to the stage. She looks to be pushed from behind by everyone in this bar, wishing they were her.
Maybe this is the one who will make him work for it. I chuckle to myself.
Slowly, the woman appears on stage, her dark, long hair covering part of her face like she’s trying to hide. A chair has been placed on stage while everyone’s focus was on Rhett leading her up there. Looking uncertain, she takes a seat, the red lights above making her flushed skin look pinker than it might actually be. She looks out to the crowd and my heart stops in my chest.
Not bothering to finish my beer, I place it on the floor, with no tables or ledges in sight. I take a step closer. My hands feel like ice, the feeling creeping into my whole body as I stare at a ghost.
My feet move through the unwilling crowd as I keep my eyes on the girl on stage. Her hair is no longer deep honey but dark brown. I can see her one dimple trying to sink in as she looks around nervously. Those deep brown eyes that once looked at me with longing are now a shade of green.
I’m going fucking nuts. How can this girl look so much like Raya, yet so different? My heart wars with my mind as they tug back and forth to make sense of it all.
Raya is dead. She died five years ago. I have all the paper clippings that were ever printed. I drove by her house. I did everything but see her corpse. I stood on her grave for hours, crying over her, for us, for everything I promised I would give her but never did. I watched her mother cry over her grave like I had before coming back home.
My family had an intervention for God’s sake! Yet, seeing this girl on stage portrays a different truth. I stand here shocked. What if this is a relative? Doesn’t everyone in this world have a doppelgänger they’ve never met? The world has billions of people. Surely, it has to be true.
Buzzing takes over my ears until I hear her voice. The same voice I fell in love with. The same voice I mourned.
Rolling up the sleeves of my plaid dress shirt, I stretch the material past my elbows, needing to cool my sticky skin. My body is rigid as I stand frozen, bodies bouncing into me, never swaying me from my spot. Slowly, my stunned state scatters, allowing me to think a little more clearly. That woman took a piece of me when she walked out on me. It’s about time I get that piece back from her.
I can feel my pulse through my body as I plan to confront her, needing to see her face when I walk into her view. Rhett’s voice catches my slight attention, and I see how he’s looking at my girl. Jealously twists with my anger, like thorns poking into me sharply.
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nbsp; It takes all my might not to jump onto that platform and throw her over my shoulder. I feel myself bump into the stage, not realizing I was gravitating toward them. Placing my hands on the wooden boards, I grip it, my knuckles turning white.
Rhett finishes his song, looking like he wants to take a bite out of my girl.
“You’re really getting into this.”
I feel something cold hit my arm. I turn my gaze for a half second, seeing Dick with another beer for me. Who is this guy? How does Rhett not find someone constantly in your space annoying?
Shaking my head, I turn back to the stage to see Raya run off to the side. I try to follow her, the wall of women blocking my view and way. I attempt to fight through it, but no one moves, trying to score a hello or wink from the famous country singer. Rhett looks cool and collected, making a joke about him catching his prey to the crowd, and the women swoon even more. I hear shouts about him being able to take them in replacement, and this time a bra zooms by me toward the stage.
I’m about ready to bite off my own lip in frustration. Turning, I head for the exit, hoping maybe I still have a chance to see her once again.
CHAPTER 9
I can’t breathe. I try to suck in air, but it refuses to enter my lungs. The lights are hot, burning my skin, leaving colorful dots in my sight. Even with all this, I can see Brax’s handsome face all contorted as he looks like he’s seeing a ghost for the first time.
How could Nate convince me to do this? I knew this was a bad idea. Madden. My son’s face flashes through my mind, showing me what I was willing to give up only to make a friend. I don’t need friends. I need to keep my son alive and away from my unsuspecting father.
Once Rhett stops singing, I take my chance and fly off my seat like a scared rabbit. I don’t wait for Gloria; I head straight out the back door into the heated night air. The sun has only started to set, still making it light out.
I look to my right then left, trying to decide where to go. Seeing a small cluster of trees that has a carved-out path, I consider the short cut and decide to take my chances with the path that could hide me.
“Raya!” Gloria calls out, making my stomach feel like it’s bottoming out. I should have kept up with my fake name. I should have never allowed my own vanity of not wanting Madden to know me by another name take precedence in my life. I should have never gotten too comfortable with this new life. All of my should haves come pouring into my gut, cementing it together in one heavy chunk that makes me feel like I’m going to be sick.
“What’s wrong?” She asks it slow and cautious, taking small steps toward me, seeing clearly I’m not all right.
“I need to go. I’m sorry.” I take a few steps toward the path I’ve decided upon before turning back around. “Thank you so much for inviting me.”
My face must show the pleading my voice echoes, because her face looks more concerned than anything.
“I know you’re not a country fan, but people don’t normally run off the stage like a bat out of hell when the most sought-after bachelor in America serenades them. How about I come over and we drink some wine while I live vicariously through you?”
That sounds perfect for what I need. My mind pulls in every direction, my heart rate pounding so hard I think she may hear it.
“Let me drive us home.” She continues to coax me away from the manicured bushes.
I look back to my path, realizing I’ll probably just get lost anyway. Nodding, I take a step toward her before I have her arm in mine as I speed walk toward her car.
I don’t even get past the entrance of the bar before I hear Brax’s strong and firm voice. “Raya.”
I keep my feet moving, only to be pulled back when Gloria doesn’t move. Turning, I see Brax by the front entrance, just feet away from me.
His hair that is normally hidden under a baseball cap is done up with gel, making it stand up an inch. His face looks sun-kissed, like he works outside most of the time.
“Do you need me to get rid of this douche?” Gloria, the pixie she is, puts on her tough face, making me chuckle, and I hope she and I can become better friends one day.
Sighing, I squeeze her hand. “No, he’s a good guy.” I can feel my words deflate, knowing I’ve been found out. No way around this now.
“Hi, Brax.” I lift my eyes to focus on him. In person, he looks even better than the memory I’ve clung to. He’s as handsome as ever, with his faded denim hugging him in all the right places. His rolled-up sleeves finish the look of sexy cowboy all too well. The confusion on his face along with the tic of his jaw shows me that he never forgot about me either.
I’m not a bad person, but I can’t help but feel like I’m the douche in this situation. I swallow hard trying give myself time. For what, I still don’t know. I can feel the strain that has coiled around the distance between us.
A door slamming makes me jump, but the front door does not open.
“Brax?” Rhett steps around the corner and stops, looking between the three of us and trying to read the situation. Brax doesn’t look at his brother; he stays focused on me, that jaw of his rolling side to side as he stares.
“Curly Sue, how about you and I check out my guitar.” Rhett looks straight at Gloria, her hand squeezing mine as I nudge her to go.
“I love you, thank you,” she whispers, placing her hands around me for a hug before she step-hops away following Rhett’s lead. I know this will be a highlight of her life. I can’t say this will be the highlight of mine. My palms are sweaty from my nervousness. My stomach twists, his questioning eyes gutting me, all making me wish this could have happened in a better way.
I can feel the scrutiny of his glare as I watch Gloria, refusing to continue staring at the look on his face, knowing it’s my fault it’s there.
Slowly, I allow my eyes to travel back to Brax. Neither of us takes a step closer.
What is there to say?
I can see questions brewing inside him, as he must be choosing which one to ask first.
Finally, he asks the unspoken question sitting on my chest like an elephant. “How can this be?”
His voice still has power over me. It’s so damn smooth and sexy I wish I could lean into him, feeling his chest vibrate as he talks to me for hours. He’s staring at me, not blinking, but searching for answers. It’s like he believes I could disappear at any moment.
I can barely breathe, never mind look him in the eye and feel good about any of this. Tilting my head to the side, I begin to walk over to where a park bench sits. I have thought about this day in my dreams, thinking about how I could explain this. But those were only daydreams, never what I would consider a possibility. I never felt the thick, hard putty sitting at the bottom of my stomach, dreading to tell him the truth. In my dreams, I never had to say the words. We just reunited. It was the perfect fantasy.
Sitting, I look skyward, my breaths shaky from the nerves grating on me. When I feel his presence next to me, I start, “You need to understand, this was never about you and me.” I pick a pebble on the sidewalk to focus on, refusing to look at him. I can hear his deep breaths beside me. I try again, “My father is a bad man, who would have never allowed us to be together. I would have never been free if I stayed.”
I glance out the corner of my eye to see him consider what I just said. “But we’re not together now as it is.” He sounds hurt and confused.
I decide to go another angle. Turning my body toward him, I take a deep breath, trying to explain my actions. Being this close to him is making my hands shake and my heart skip as I try to focus on my explanation. “You don’t know him as I do. He would have ruined you, destroying us. He would’ve made me watch then taken the only thing he felt you might want to live for—me. I would’ve ended up still being another headline in the newspaper, and you would’ve still ended up at my funeral. I have seen him do worse. I know what he’s capable of.”
My hand goes to touch his, comforting both of us. It was a mistake. My heart now thumps for a w
hole new reason. His cologne wafts toward me, and I try not to close my eyes to smell that same scent he wore all those years ago. I now know people are not lying when they say scents have a memory too.
It’s like a fragrance of happiness invading me as I breathe him in, remembering all the things I loved most about this man beside me.
He sighs deep and thoughtful before his thick timbre voice speaks again. “I would have taken care of us, protected us.”
I can tell he won’t give up. Brax is no coward. But braveness is stupidity when it comes to fighting my father. No one wins. Ever.
His eyes linger on me, this time taking all of me in. He starts looking at my legs stretched out in front of me, making me squirm, needing to move them underneath the park bench. His eyes trail up, causing me to wish I could erase the five years that have passed like they meant nothing. Heat fans throughout my body as I remember how good we were.
His stare holds my lips, making me lick the dryness he is causing. “I can still do those things.” His words come out gruff, our eyes connecting like two bodies of water, hitting hard and stealing parts of each other instantly.
I watch like an outsider as our bodies move forward at the same time. I want this so badly, even when I know this can never be. Our lips touch; they mold the same way two pieces of a puzzle fit perfectly together. I melt fully into him, my hands cupping his face. Our lips are soft and hesitant, trying to find their natural rhythm. Then it’s over much too soon.
Our lips pull away, and I hate what I see in his eyes. Hope.
“Brax, I closed that chapter on us a long time ago. I think it’s best if you do too.” My eyes blur with the tears I try to hold back.
“I don’t believe you. You don’t kiss someone like that when nothing is there.” There is an edge to his voice as I catch him off guard.
“You do when you’re no longer in a position to kiss handsome cowboys.” I stand up, moving my sweaty hands onto my jeans, and prepare myself to walk away. I hate leaving it this way. I wish I could say more. Turning my back on him, I refuse to glance back as I head toward my friend’s car.
