“I don’t…I mean I’m not, I—” I struggled to form a coherent sentence.
Caleb pressed his lips to mine, softly, deliberately melding our mouths together in a slow sensuous kiss.
Trouble and I were becoming best friends.
~000~
Nathan texted me on Wednesday as I was getting dressed and waiting for Caleb to come pick me up.
I know what you said. But I miss you. So fucking much.
Unwanted tears pricked my eyes. Why did he always get to me like this? He had the worst timing. His pained words made my stomach drop. Made me feel sick and twisted up my insides.
I shouldn’t have texted him back.
Nate, we can’t keep doing this to each other. I can’t keep doing this.
His response was immediate. You don’t miss me?
I didn’t say that.
So you do miss me?
Oh my god. Cocky bastard.
No.
Liar.
I grunted in frustration. When I looked up, I saw my flushed face and a tiny smirk on my lips. I scowled at my reflection and tossed my phone in my purse. Mission Move On, was officially in full effect.
~000~
By Friday night the pictures were everywhere. I couldn’t even turn on the TV without seeing my face and Caleb’s and the swirling gossip.
I groaned in frustration. Caleb laughed.
Caleb plopped down on the couch next to me, an overflowing bowl of popcorn cradled against his chest.
He slung an arm casually along the back of the couch behind me. I silently studied his profile for a moment, the flickering light of the television casted shadows on his handsome face.
Things had been quiet today between us since our date. Not as heated and explosive as on the tour. Or even as passionate and demanding as the kiss at the party or Monday at the studio.
But it was kind of nice. Peaceful. Easy.
That night at his family’s home in Chicago flashed through my mind. His dark eyes open, his lips hovering above mine, the starry night, the feel of his heart beating rapidly beneath my hand.
There was definitely something between us, but just as soon as he started to let me in, he would close off again. It was subtle. But the serious, vulnerable side of him, the side that let me see all his emotions in his dark eyes, would be gone. And fun, affection, laid back Caleb would be in his place.
Just as I was contemplating this, a knock sounded at my door. And then another. And another.
I huffed, irritated and suddenly, inexplicably a little nervous to answer the door. I padded down the hall in my bare feet and opened the door to find Nathan, unsteady on his feet, leaning heavily against the door frame, glowering at me.
Looking behind me to see if Caleb was curious enough to get off the couch and finding no movement, I stepped outside and shut the door behind me. Nathan’s eyes narrowed and as he swayed closer to me, I got a whiff of him.
“Jesus, Nate,” I cursed. “Are you drunk?”
He put a hand out, steadying himself against the door frame and leaned down so that we were almost eye level. “So, what if I am, doll face?” he slurred.
I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms in front of me in a defensive and protective gesture. “What are you doing here, Nathan?”
“Oh, so now it’s Nathan, huh?”
I shook my head. I was in no mood to play this game with him.
“That is your name,” I replied.
Nathan stepped closer and I backed up against the door. His arms caged me in on both sides of my head. He leaned his head down, until his lips were almost touching my ear.
“I liked it better when you used to call me Nate,” his voice dropped to a low husky whisper. “When I was your Nate.”
I shoved at his chest, suddenly angry as I fought back tears. How dare he come here! He hurt me. He—
He grabbed my wrists and pinned me against the door. He smelled like whisky and cinnamon and a hint of tobacco. His full lips curled into an obnoxious smirk.
“Nate,” I whispered, suddenly uneasy at the tight grip of his fingers. He must have read the fear in my eyes as he abruptly dropped his hands and stepped back. Worry and regret marred his chiseled features.
I whispered softly, “This isn’t you. This isn’t—”
“Isn’t what?” he cut me off, leaning into me again. “Isn’t the kind of man I am?”
He snorted. “What, did you think that I’d just wish you happily ever after and watch you ride off into the fuckin’ sunset…with someone else?”
I frowned at him he stepped back a little. I pulled away from him as far as I could get on my tiny front porch.
The smirk dropped from his features and his blue eyes sharpened, narrowed, pinned me to the spot. He pressed his palm to the center of his chest and growled, “This is exactly the kind of man I am, sweetheart. The kind that—”
“That acts like a drunken asshole? That lies and cheats and steals?!” I snapped.
He took a step toward me, his eyes narrowed further. Then a wave of understanding passed over his features and his blue eyes widened, his face went slack. I fidgeted uncomfortably.
“You think I stole your virginity?” he asked in a hoarse whisper.
I sucked in a sharp breath. I didn’t answer but tears pooled in my eyes. Nathan took another step toward me and cupped my face in his large warm hands. The familiar gesture made my thoughts and emotions swirl in confusion.
“I didn’t…how did you—”
“Face,” he chided. “I knew.”
My breath faltered and tears fell down my cheeks. That was almost worst. That he believed his old girlfriend to be pregnant and was with me that night anyway. Knowing how much I was giving him.
His voice was cracked as he spoke and I felt the fissures in my own heart. “I know I fucked up. I can’t even promise that I’ll never fuck up again. But, I am the kind of man that will love you for the rest of his life. I promise I’ll never stop loving you, but—”
He took a deep breath and the thick knot in his throat moved with the movement. His eyes searched mine, flickering back and forth. Uncertainty clouded his gaze.
“But?” I whispered, desperate for him to continue, afraid and terrified and confused about what he was going to say.
“But, if you tell me,” he continued, eyes still searching mine. “Tell me you don’t love me anymore, that you don’t want us, I’ll walk away right now. I’ll stop fighting if you tell me your heart will never be mine again.”
My gut churned with guilt and confusion as my insides burned. A knifelike pain sliced through me. Part of me wanted to throw my arms around him and kiss him until I couldn’t feel the pain anymore. But a louder part of me, the broken mangled part, remembered, all too well, the heartbreak of Nate’s rejection.
The words felt heavy on my tongue but I pushed them out anyway. “I can’t.”
As my words registered, pain flickered across his face and his eyes welled with tears. My knees shook, my body silently begged me to reconsider. Watching his pain was almost worse than feeling my own.
Two seconds later, Nathan’s lips crushed against mine. I wanted to respond. Everything inside me flared to life, hot and achy and intense. I trembled with need and want and the tension coiled in my muscles from resisting him.
When my lips remained rigid and closed despite the firm delicious pressure and insistence of his, Nathan grunted and pulled back. He shook his head and dropped his hands from my face as he took two steps away from me.
He dropped his gaze to the ground and ran a shaky hand through his hair.
“I’ll still always be yours,” he whispered.
Then, without another word he turned on his heel and walked away from me—once again— and slid into an idling taxi, disappearing from view.
Chapter 25
I shoulda just called him "Whiskey".
~Jenna Kramer
One year later…
I exited the stage breathless, my skin slick with
sweat, and my body humming with adrenaline from the rocking show I had just put on to hundreds of thousands of screaming fans.
My band and several roadies and hanger-ons patted me on the back and congratulated me as I made my way through the crowded backstage area. My high from performing began to fade and the words of my songs—most about my dad or him—all filled my head and caused a festering wound in my chest to ache.
What used to be therapeutic was now torment.
I couldn’t stop the pain or the regret or the images from bubbling up or my gut from twisting. I walked faster, pushing my way through the crowd. I heard Caleb call my name and I looked back. Our eyes met across the densely packed space. His were full of sadness and something else I didn’t want to see.
I turned away and fled.
I had tried so desperately to let go of Nathan. I’d tried to bury my pain. I’d tried to love Caleb. I’d screamed. And cried. I had written songs and poured myself into my music and tried to let it consume me. I had tried to forget. To forget my dad’s death. To forget Nathan—the vulnerable look in his eyes when he stood on my doorstep last summer. And the way he touched me, kissed me, like he needed me. The way it felt when all his focus was on me. The intensity and passion that consumed everything and everyone around him.
I could never deny how very un-fairytale like our story was or that he was an asshole who’d lied to me. I couldn’t trust him. Or forgive him. And I couldn’t love Caleb because my heart was ruined.
When I got to my dressing room, I ransacked the place until I found a bottle of amber liquid. I unscrewed the lid and drank it straight from the bottle, relishing the burn of the whiskey as it slid down my throat and warmed my gut.
By the time Caleb appeared, I was halfway through the bottle and almost blissfully numb.
“Ash,” he said, eyeing me cautiously. He sighed heavily and plopped down onto the couch next to me. I handed him the bottle and he took one long swig out of it and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
He smelled so good. Familiar and warm. I leaned my head against his shoulder, unable to hide anything else.
“I wish I could just—”
“Ash, don’t,” he interrupted me. He looked down at me and I glanced up at him. The anger in his face disappeared and he sighed heavily. He cupped my face in his large warm calloused hand. “Me too, baby. I wish I could be your hero. But—”
He leaned down and kissed me softly on the lips. He pulled back a second later and gave me a sad wistful smile, stroking his thumb over my cheek.
“I’m not him,” Caleb whispered. “I don’t think that’s the kind of man I am. Even if I wish I could be that for you.”
My mind flashed back to Nathan’s words last summer.
I’m the kind of man that will love you for the rest of his life.
Caleb continued, “And even if you don’t want to hear it, I think you need to take some time off music and touring. You need to go back to Texas and deal with your dad’s death. And—”
I held up my hand to stop him. We’d had similar conversations before, I already knew what he was going to say.
Caleb had somehow become more than just my sometimes lover. He was my friend. My issues with my dad’s death and Nathan were certainly part of what kept us from being fully together, but there was a sadness to Caleb and more to his past than he’d ever willingly reveal to me.
It was times like these that my feelings of guilt over Caleb eased a little; when I realized he and I were the same.
I grabbed the bottle and took a long pull of the whiskey.
“I think you need to go see him.”
I coughed and sputtered, liquid ran down my chin. “Who?”
Caleb turned fully to me and titled my chin up. “I think you need to go to your dad’s gravesite. And I think you need to talk to Nathan.”
I sucked in a sharp breath. Caleb had never said Nathan’s name out loud before.
I swallowed against the lump in my throat and shook my head. “I can’t.”
“Ashley,” Caleb spoke softly. “You have to. You can’t keep running away from your problems or trying to drown them in a bottle or hope that I’ll kiss them away.”
I looked away, my cheeks burned red hot at his honest assessment of what I’d been doing all this time.
Caleb dropped his hand from my face and leaned back against the sofa. He grabbed the bottle and took another drink.
I snorted. “Pot meet kettle.”
Caleb chuckled. “I just call it like I see it, Parker.”
He sighed again and looked at me, locking those dark endlessly deep eyes on mine. Silence enveloped us as he searched my face and eyes for something.
After a minute, he leaned forward and whispered in my ear, “It’s time, Ash. We can’t keep living this way. You go deal with your issues and I’ll make you a deal. I’ll go deal with mine. Maybe then—”
He didn’t say it. Didn’t elaborate. Instead he kissed me long and deep. And then walked away.
I sat there that night for a long time thinking. Even after the whole place was practically empty, except for Mark who was passed out on a couch in my dressing room. I’m pretty sure he had stayed to act as my protector or babysitter. He wasn’t doing a great job.
Maybe Caleb was right.
Maybe I just needed a little closure.
Maybe if I could figure out my own head and my own heart, maybe if I could deal with my dad’s passing and get closure with Nate, maybe then Caleb and I could figure out us.
I took a deep shaky breath, and picked up my phone. A plan started to form in my mind and instead of second guessing myself, I started to put it into action.
~000~
I chickened out.
After I got home, back to the apartment Katie and I still shared (even though I was rarely there), I spent a week just hanging out with Katie, going to visit my mama, and for the first time in a long time feeling like a normal person.
No performances, no interviews, no plastered on smiles or vague answers. Just me. Being me.
It was kind of refreshing at first. But then, I suddenly had way too much time to think. And all I could think about was Nathan. Every single thing reminded me of him. All the memories of the train wreck that was us littered this small college town like the leaves in the fall.
Saturday night, Katie decided she’d had enough of me hanging around our apartment and wanted to go out.
“Come on,” she pleaded, pulling me off the couch. Katie stuck out her bottom lip and pouted. “Let’s go out! You’re single, let’s find you some—”
I held up my hand. “No offense, Katie, but no more of you fixing me up or telling me to just have fun.”
She pursed her lips.
“I’m serious,” I continued. I held up two fingers. “Nathan, I tried to just have fun and I ended up with a broken heart. And Caleb—”
I sighed. I wasn’t sure where I stood with Caleb. Since I’d been home I hadn’t heard from him. At all. Not a single call or even a text. My stomach knotted. Did I love Caleb? Could I love Caleb? Did he love me?
Would I ever be able to let this festering heartbreak with Nathan go?
“Fine,” Katie said. “No boys. Let’s just go have a few drinks, listen to the band and have a good time.”
An hour later I was nursing my second beer and laughing at a story Katie and Autumn were telling.
I looked up and Colin, my ex-boyfriend that I’d dumped the night I first met Nathan, was standing at the bar, his bright green eyes and a soft smile locked on me.
“Ashley,” he said, smiling wide when he reached me.
It was strange really. The last time I saw Colin I was so angry with him. Angry and humiliated. But now, seeing his easy smile, I just…wasn’t.
I smiled back and motioned for him to take a seat. Katy and Autumn gave me knowing smiles and left for the dance floor.
Colin sighed heavily as he plopped into the chair next to me.
“Damn,” he breathed
, shaking his head. A wistful smile curved the corner of his lips and leaned forward in his chair.
I quirked an eyebrow at him.
“That smile,” he said, locking his eyes with mine. “It does crazy things to a man. Never thought I’d see it again.”
Maybe it was the alcohol warming my insides, but I giggled. “What kind of things?”
The Best Kind of Trouble Page 17
