Rock Me (Jaded Ivory Book 1)

by Rebecca Brooke

  “It’s all in your voice. Plus, I know you. You always question yourself when you shouldn’t. You have a beautiful voice and deserve everything it brings you.”

  My chest felt a bit lighter with that. She might always know what we’re thinking and feeling, but she also knew what to say to make us feel better. “I love you, Mom.”

  “I love you, too, sweetheart. Now tell me how all of this happened. The last time we talked about it, you guys didn’t want to submit demos to labels.”

  I told her about the guy from LiteStar; how he’d heard one of our songs and come to one of our live shows. An hour seemed to pass in minutes. In the blink of an eye, Sawyer was knocking on my door to leave.

  “Bye, sweetheart. Good luck today. Call me later and tell me how everything goes.”

  “I will. Love you.”

  After we hung up, I went to the bathroom to check my hair and makeup. When I was sure everything was where I wanted it, I met Sawyer in the living room.

  “Ready?” He dangled the keys in the air.

  “As I’ll ever be.”

  I smiled and followed Sawyer out the door on another adventure. After this, I’d need another bird tattoo.

  CHAPTER 9

  Cole

  I rolled over a little after three in the morning. No matter what I tried, sleep wouldn’t come. Every time I closed my eyes, Mari was there. The way she looked now, with a smile on her face as she performed for a horde of screaming fans, and then the way she used to look, shy and scared. But what I really couldn’t push from my mind was the way she looked tonight.

  Scared.

  Ready to hear something shitty from me, when all I’d wanted to do was apologize the best I could.

  I sat at the bar for hours, waiting to see if there’d be a chance to talk to her. I needed her to see that I wasn’t the same guy; that words couldn’t express how sorry I was for the hell I put her through. No matter who she was or what had happened in the past, I was still the guy who’d taken her home and who wanted to meet up for drinks again. The guy who really wanted to get to know the girl behind the microphone.

  I didn’t want any of that to come off as insincere. This wasn’t about redemption. I wanted to get to know her, and it had nothing to do with the fact she was Mariella Cosmann. She was just a girl I met in a bar. Not that she’d see it like that.

  Memory after memory assaulted me. The thought that I’d actually treated someone that way made my stomach roll. It was like a lead weight sitting on my chest, cutting off my circulation. How had I let myself be that person for so long? Thank god that one day changed the way I saw things. Too little, too late.

  I couldn’t blame her for not wanting to talk to me. The way she’d frozen when I called her by her full name had sent a chill through the room, making me think she hadn’t expected me to figure it all out.

  By four thirty, I gave up on sleep. Throwing the covers off, I climbed from the bed and as much as I wanted to drown in a bottle of tequila, I knew liquor wasn’t the right answer so I pulled on a pair of gym shorts, sweatshirt, and my sneakers. Running myself into exhaustion didn’t sound like a terrible idea. The team didn’t have practice until Monday. Coach Harrison was happy enough with the way they’d played last night to give them the day off.

  At least, that’s what he told the kids.

  What he really wanted was to watch tape of the possible teams we’d be facing in the playoffs without interruption, which meant I still had to go in for a few hours. At least he didn’t expect us in until ten. A few miles might be enough to get me a couple of hours of sleep.

  A few miles turned into seven, but it did the trick. My eyelids heavy, I barely made it to my bedroom. Without bothering to shower and change, I dropped into bed, my shoes still on my feet.

  Thanks to my ill-timed run, I was almost late getting to the school. The entire time we watched the different teams, my head was a million miles away. Dismissing the other coaches, Coach Harrison called me into his office.

  “What’s on your mind, Cole?” He took the seat behind his desk and gestured to the ones in front.

  With a sigh, I dropped into one of the two chairs there. “Just a lot on my mind.”

  He nodded like he understood where I was coming from. Coach Harrison had gotten me the job teaching Phys. Ed. after he found out I’d moved here to finish my degree. Once my shot at the NFL was over, I couldn’t make myself stay there. The school, the campus all filled with memories that would make me dwell on the what ifs, instead of the what nows. He told me to finish my degree and he’d take care of the rest. After I’d gotten my bachelor’s degree, he set me up in a program where I’d teach for a year and become certified that way, all of it designed to get me into the offensive coaching position sooner.

  He leaned back in his chair, eyes trained on me. “I figured. I’ve never seen you so distracted. Usually you analyze every move the defense makes. Something happened this weekend?”

  I ran a hand through my hair. I hadn’t planned on talking about this with anyone, but if coach was offering me the opportunity to get a few things off my chest, I might as well take it. Everything else I’d tried hadn’t worked. “You could say that. I ran into someone I went to high school with.”

  “Ahh, never easy. Especially when you wind up far from where you thought you’d be.”

  My heart stuttered in my chest. This was so much more than dealing with someone who expected me to be playing professional football. Would Mari have even known that? Then again, besides not playing the game I love, I was much happier with the man I was now over the one she’d known.

  “Yeah, I just need to find a way to talk to her.” I rested my elbows on my knees, dropping my gaze down to the floor. There had to be a way to get her to listen to me. Apologizing to her wasn’t about making myself feel better, either. I needed her to know that she hadn’t deserved any of what my so-called friends and I put her through in high school. I didn’t know if any of what we did had had an impact, but even if it hadn’t, that shit still hadn’t been right.

  “The whole picture is coming together. She expected you to be a big, fancy football player.” I looked up to find him rolling his eyes, the corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk. “And you don’t know how to tell her you’re doing more for the sport of football now than you could have done as a player.”

  My head snapped up.

  He laughed. “Not what you expected me to say, huh?”

  He couldn’t have been further from the truth, but what he said had me confused, nonetheless. “There have got to be millions of high school teams in the country, how am I making that much of a difference?”

  He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning them on the desk. “You don’t see it because you’ve always been so wrapped up in playing.” He pointed at me. “You’re a natural, Coach. It comes easy to you. You know when to push, and when to let the players make decisions for themselves. Your plays are unique and well planned. Look at yesterday. In less than an hour, you reworked the entire front line and still pulled off a win, even missing your starting wide receiver.”

  “I . . . I . . . Thank you.”

  Even with the nightmare I’d walked into last night, Coach’s words lifted some of the weight off my chest. His words told me I wasn’t that guy anymore. The one who took pleasure in making other people’s lives miserable.

  “Don’t thank me. It was always there, I’m just the guy who recognized it before you did.” He gestured around his office. “This is only a starting place for you. Colleges have been taking an interest—watching you. Someday you’ll be coaching a Division I school, and no one will be worried about the kid who missed his chance for the NFL. They’ll talk about Cole Wallace as one of the greatest coaches in collegiate history.”

  College? Being watched? None of it made sense. I was just a high school coach. “I’ve only been coaching for two seasons. How would they—”

  “They’ve seen it in the plays you call. In two seasons, you’ve completely
redesigned the offensive line. Don’t get me wrong, everyone in football knows your name. After you got hurt, everyone was curious to see what you’d do. You picked coaching and every college out there shit themselves waiting to see what you could do. It’s not for everyone. But you? You’re a natural with unlimited potential.” He watched me for a minute, letting me absorb his words.

  For a brief moment, all my worries about Mari were pushed to the side. “I guess I never imagined anything like that.”

  “Don’t get me wrong, you’re a great teacher. The kids in your classes love you, but you’re going to do so much more with your career.” He stood and came around to sit on the front of his desk. “So face your past. Deal with it and move on. This is just a stop along the way for you.”

  What happened to my career became pretty insignificant in light of all the mistakes I’d made, but I couldn’t make Coach Harrison understand without rehashing everything that had happened, and I had no plans to do that. And yet, even without knowing the extent of my problem, he seemed to know exactly what to say to give me the boost I needed. Like most teenagers, I’d made mistakes. I just honestly never thought I’d get the chance to make up for them.

  “Thanks, Coach. Today . . . that was what I needed to hear.” I stood from my chair. “I’ll see you Monday.”

  He nodded, turning to open his playbook. “Enjoy the rest of your weekend.”

  “You, too, Coach.”

  I left the school, a mixture of emotions warring within me. On one hand, an excitement I hadn’t felt since I signed my acceptance letter to college with a full ride scholarship filled my chest, reinforcing the career choice I’d made when I could no longer play.

  On the other, a lead weight sat in my stomach. It was weird feeling so light and so heavy at the same time. Coach mentioned being embarrassed about not playing professionally when, actually, the only thing I was embarrassed about was my behavior off the field.

  The entire drive home I was too distracted to notice anything around me. A parade could have marched right in front of my car and I would have missed it. When I walked into the house, Ryan was lying on the couch, watching TV. He looked up at me, tossing the remote onto the coffee table.

  “Where have you been?”

  I raised a brow. What was he talking about? I was at the school every Saturday morning for practice. This wasn’t something new. “How hungover are you?”

  “Better than when I woke up, but that doesn’t answer my question.”

  I dropped my keys into the bowl by the door. “At the school to watch tape. Where else would I be?”

  He sat up, dropping his feet to the floor in front of the couch. “That explains this morning. What about last night? You were supposed to meet us at the bar. Don’t tell me you got a second night with Mari.”

  I’d totally forgotten about meeting them. “No, I didn’t get a second night with Mari.”

  He flopped back onto the couch, like the weight of the world was too heavy for him. “I still can’t believe you, you bastard. After all the times the rest of us tried and you’re the one to get her in your bed. I bet you saw her last night.”

  “I did, but not for the reason you think I did.” I dropped down into the recliner.

  “Why the hell else would you go see her, if not for round two?”

  “I know her.”

  He smirked. “I’d say you know her in the biblical sense.”

  My chest felt tight with the admission. “No, I mean I know her as in I knew her before she was Mari of Jaded Ivory.”

  Ryan sat up in a flash, grabbing his head, most likely to stop it from spinning. He dropped his hands and glared at me. “You fucker. You pretended not to know her just so you could fuck her first. That was low, you bastard.”

  “I wish that were the case.” I scrubbed a hand down my face, my stomach in knots. “When I knew her she went by Mariella, and she looked nothing like she does now. I had no idea who she was until last night.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me. “How long ago are we talking? Did she recognize you?”

  “High school.” I winced. “And I’m pretty sure she did.”

  “Why wouldn’t she say anything to you?” He sat forward, eyes on the TV but not taking any of it on. He sat in silence for a moment before turning to me. “Ex-girlfriend?”

  I shook my head. “Not even close.”

  “Okay then, what? You’re way too bugged out for this to be some chick in your graduating class.”

  My throat tightened and I swallowed to clear it. “Let’s just say my friends, and I use that term loosely now, used to make Mari’s life a living hell.”

  I didn’t need to explain. Ryan would know exactly what I was talking about. High schools were the same everywhere. Popular kids teased the geeks and nerds, the hierarchy stayed intact, blah, blah, blah. Didn’t make it right, though.

  “Shit. What kind of stuff are we talking about? It can’t have been that bad.”

  For the millionth time since yesterday I asked myself how I could have done any of it. Not just to Mari, but anyone I went to school with. Acid burned in my stomach.

  “Let’s see, there was the time we smashed her guitar . . .”

  Ryan’s eyes bulged. “Are you telling me you were a big enough asshole to pick up her guitar and smash it on the floor?”

  “Yes, and not exactly.”

  “What do you mean, not exactly?” Ryan crossed his arms over his chest and lifted his chin. “I’m sorry. I’ve known you for years and can’t imagine you doing anything like that.”

  I rested my arms on my legs and looked anywhere but at him. “I made a lot of mistakes when I was younger. I thought I was invincible—that I could do whatever I wanted. So yes, I was a complete asshole. But I didn’t pick the guitar up and smash it.”

  “Then how the hell did her guitar get smashed?”

  “My high school wasn’t huge, but each group had their own table in the cafeteria. Or at least I thought they did.” I looked up at Ryan. “Hell, the only thing I really paid attention to was where we sat and the girls we’d hook up with were.”

  “Okay. Most high schools are like that. Shit, I’m sure the cafeteria at your school is the same way. I know mine is.”

  “It is. But that day when we walked in, the table where the girls normally sat was filled with the band geeks.”

  One brow arched over his eye. “You’re seriously gonna go with that term?”

  I lifted my hands. “Jesus, I know, but it’s part of the story, all right?” He waved his hand for me to continue. “Anyway, before we could take one foot in the room, Sam had the idea to screw with them for sitting next to us. We had no idea at the time they were on a field trip. Another guy, named Brian, decided to help him. We had a big game that weekend and couldn’t afford for either one of them to be benched if we were going to make the playoffs, so we fanned out to keep the teachers in the room distracted.”

  Ryan ran a hand through his hair. “For fuck’s sake. This story keeps getting worse and worse.”

  “We haven’t even gotten to the worst part.”

  “Are you telling me you actually helped those two pricks screw with people?”

  “Hell no. While the rest of the guys fanned out through the room, I went over to rein those two assholes in.” I sighed. “By the time I reached the table, Sam and Brian were already leaning over, trying to talk to two of the girls. Brian had, of course, picked Mariella—everyone’s favorite target.”

  “She’s hot as fuck, why would you guys get off on tormenting her?”

  I laughed humorlessly. “Trust me when I tell you the Mari you know and the one I went to high school with are two different people. And as big of a dick as it made me, my only focus was on football and reaching the NFL. I didn’t really pay much attention to anyone who couldn’t help with that goal.”

  “You’re right, that does make you a dick.”

  “Trust me, I know. I’ve learned a lot over the years.”

  “What do
es any of this have to do with the guitar?”

  Self-loathing burned through me like acid. “Sam had the one girl eating out of his hand. It didn’t take long before he got bored and ended up making her cry, but Mariella wasn’t falling for Brian’s shit. He kept trying to get her to talk to him, but she knew better and told him to get lost.”

  “Let me guess, he’s a big enough asshole to not take too kindly to that and broke the guitar as payback.”

  “No. I told you, I broke the guitar. When I saw Brian was about to lose it on her, I grabbed his arm and tried to drag him away from the table.” I thought about what I said to get him away from her.

  “Come on, Bri. Mariloon’s not gonna talk to you. She learned her lesson last week with Sam.”

  My throat burned remembering the way she flinched away from my words. “He yanked his arm out of my grasp and wrapped it around Mariella. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sam moving away from the table. I was relieved I only had one of them left to deal with. I saw the girl crying, but turned my attention back to Brian who looked up at me and told me to back off. I saw his hand come up to shove me back and I braced for it. My foot caught on something, taking me down to the floor.

  “Shit. The guitar.”

  “Yeah, my ass landed right on top of it. I was about the same size then, so you can imagine what happened to the guitar. The crunch echoed throughout the room. Those assholes were laughing their heads off as I picked myself up off the floor.”

  “Holy hell.”

  “When I looked down and saw the guitar case, it wasn’t the right shape and somewhat flattened.” I swallowed hard. “I still remember the sound of her scream as it filled the room, the tears streaming down her face. She grabbed the case and ran. It was later that I found out that Sam had moved the case behind me so that Brian could push me down onto it.”

  By the time I’d finished reliving the whole clusterfuck of a day, my coffee had soured in my stomach and Ryan’s eyes were practically bulging out of his skull. “Holy fuck. Your high school friends are a bunch of assholes.”