I laughed, but it was humorless. “Tell me something I don’t know. Why do you think I stopped being friends with them?”
“Shit, man.”
I closed my eyes trying to shut out the world. Silence filled the room, heavy enough to be a physical presence but there wasn’t much more to say. I’d just revealed how much of a dick I’d used to be, and the only glimmer of potential redemption was that I’d recognized that fact.
Ryan groaned. “You’re killing me. What happened when you went to see her?”
I tried to suck in a deep breath, but the weight only grew heavier with each admission. “At first, she tried to pretend it was a one-night stand . . . until I called out her full name.”
“Then?”
I sighed, my head dropping back to the couch, my eyes falling shut. “Then she walked away. And I can’t blame her. When I think of all the times I’d been a part of making her life hell, I want to puke.”
I opened my eyes to see Ryan rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “What are you going to do now?”
I shrugged because for as much thought as I’d given it, I was yet to come up with a plan. “Not sure. I know I owe her a million apologies that won’t even come close to making up for what I did.”
“You gonna keep going to her shows?”
“I don’t know any other way to find her.”
“You’ll figure it out. Since I’ve known you, you’ve always been able to find a way to dig yourself out of some of the biggest shit piles. You’ll make this right.”
“I hope so.”
Ryan stood, his face turning a slight shade of green in the process. “Fuck, probably shouldn’t have gotten up. Need greasy food. Pizza?”
“Sure,” I said absently, my thoughts still on Mariella. Ryan was right. I’d crawled out of deep holes before. No reason I couldn’t do the same thing this time.
The rest of the weekend passed in a blur. Ryan tried a number of times to get me to go out, his pledges of never drinking again quickly forgotten, but I just wasn’t in the mood. I didn’t even bother trying to figure out where Jaded Ivory was playing. What was the point? Until I could get her to listen to me, the conversation would only end up the same way.
By the time I finished work and practice on Monday I was exhausted, every muscle protesting under the weight of the stress.
Frustrated, I found myself standing in the middle of the grocery store with no idea what to buy. It was definitely one of those days where being an adult sucked. Life was much easier when I’d been able to come home from practice and dinner was waiting on the table. Growing up, my parents had fully supported my dream of playing in the NFL; taking me to practices, night games in the cold, even dinners wrapped in foil, waiting in the oven for me to get home.
After the last week, I could have used one of my mom’s home-cooked meals. Deciding on something easy for dinner, I turned down the aisle to the left. The second I turned the corner I ran right into someone, knocking both of our groceries to the floor.
“Shit, I’m so sorry.”
Cringing, I dropped down to start picking things up, noticing the girl I’d knocked into crouching down to do the same. I grabbed another one of the boxes that had fallen to the floor and my hand touched hers. I looked up, startled by the jolt that ran up my arm at the contact.
Those teal eyes would give her away anywhere. She snatched her hand back. My mouth went as dry as Death Valley. This was my chance. I needed to get my shit together and start talking. She threw things back into her basket, doing everything she could to avoid eye contact.
When she reached out to take the box in my hand I let her have it, then covered her fingers with mine. She flinched, her back going straight as an arrow.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She tried to pull away but I held tight. It might not have been the right move, but I didn’t know what else to do to get her to stay and listen.
“What was there to tell?” Her voice soft, dejected. I didn’t like how it made me feel. Not one bit.
“You could have told me who you were. That we knew each other.”
Her head snapped up. Fire blazed in her eyes. This time when she pulled her hand away, I let her go. Rage I could understand because I knew it was something I deserved.
“Told you who I was? For what?” Although the store was fairly quiet, I didn’t miss the heads of the few other people in our aisle turn in our direction. “So I could see the look of disgust in your eyes when you realized it was Mariella Cosmann in your bed?”
I flinched, taking a step back as if she’d slapped me. “That’s not what I would have done.”
She dropped her basket, stalking forward. By now people were coming from other aisles to watch the show. “Oh really? Are you telling me that everything I remember is wrong?” Mari shoved my shoulder, making me stumble over my own two feet. I hadn’t even tried to stand my ground. She could do whatever she wanted to me as long as it made her feel better.
I held my hands up. “I meant now. I’m not that asshole anymore.”
“Once an asshole, always an asshole. Fuck you, Cole.”
She turned and snatched up her basket, brushing past me and taking her groceries to the register. As slow chatter returned to the space around me, a flush ran up my cheeks and I caught more than a few sideways glances from curious onlookers. What must they be thinking about me? And what would they think if they knew the truth?
Everything she’d said was right.
Well, almost everything.
I was no longer that guy. The bully. The asshole. The jock.
I’d have to find a way to prove it to her. I needed to show her I wasn’t that guy anymore. It was time for her to meet the real Cole Wallace.
CHAPTER 10
Mari
Blood rushed through my ears. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me, their questioning looks making me retreat inwards. Not that I blamed them. A scene like that was like a car wreck: you couldn’t help but stop and look.
What a fitting comparison. My history with Cole truly was a car wreck. Nothing good could come of interacting with him. My breath came in shallow pants. Whatever was missing for dinner, I’d figure out how to do without it because after that scene, I had no intention of continuing to wander the store and chance another encounter with Cole. Sweat beaded on my forehead, and I willed the cashier to move quicker, knowing the adrenaline high wouldn’t last much longer. I all but threw the groceries into the trunk of my car, slamming my door much harder than necessary.
Why was he so adamant about talking to me?
Hadn’t I suffered enough?
I gripped the steering wheel tighter, trying to control my trembling hands, but with that and the fast-paced rhythm of my heart thrumming in my chest, I thought I might be sick.
Today was supposed to be the day. No worries, no cares, just signatures on a piece of paper. Butterflies flew around my stomach the entire time. I couldn’t wipe the grin from my face. Everything we’d worked hard for had finally fallen into our laps. I didn’t have to chase my dreams anymore. They’d found me.
Then I run headfirst into Cole and remember why I’d started chasing them in the first place.
Sawyer’s ringtone sounded through the car, the phone vibrating on the passenger seat startling me out of my thoughts. I grabbed it off the seat and hit speaker.
“Hey.” My voice trembled slightly. Damn if I didn’t know that Sawyer would pick up on that instantly.
“What’s wrong?”
I ran a shaky hand through my hair, sucking in a deep breath. “Everything’s fine. What’s up?” I forced my voice to come out strong and sure, even if it was an octave or two too high.
Sawyer paused and in my mind’s eye I could see his brow crinkling while he tried to figure out if I was hiding something from him. “Wanted to see if you would grab some beer on your way home?”
Beer. That I could deal with. “Text me what you want me to get.”
&n
bsp; “You sure you’re okay?”
If only he could have seen me roll my eyes. “Sawyer, I’m driving.”
“Fine.” He sighed. I knew he didn’t want to let it go so before he could argue with me, I disconnected the call and made the turn to stop by the liquor store.
I felt like a damn yo-yo. One minute I refused to let the past get in my way, the next it was causing public meltdowns. I couldn’t seem to find a way to break the cycle.
Who knew how long we’d lived in the same city and managed to avoid each other. And now that I’d seen him once, I couldn’t seem to shake him. The man did crazy things to my emotions. I had to admit, it felt good standing up to him.
But there was a moment, a split-second, where the hurt I thought I saw in his eyes made me want to believe the things he was saying. Believe in the good in people, and their ability to change. If only the glass half-full part of me hadn’t been crushed long ago.
Cole could never change.
Today had been everything. I wouldn’t let that asshole and his games ruin it. I went in the store, grabbed what Sawyer requested and added a bottle of champagne. We were going to celebrate.
By the time I got home, Sawyer was pacing a hole in the floor. He took the bags from my hands and carried them into the kitchen. The bags had barely touched the counter before he turned on me.
“What happened?” His gaze was so intent, it was as if he was trying to see inside my skin.
I started to unpack the bags, grateful for something to do with my shaking hands. “Why do you think something happened?”
He quirked a brow at me. “Maybe because when we left the office I’d never seen you smile so big you were walking on the clouds, then not thirty minutes after Monty drops me off, I call and there’s a tremor to your voice. So either something happened on the two-hour drive home, or something happened while you were at the store. Which is it?”
I began assembling everything I needed to cook dinner. I knew he knew I was avoiding the question. That was how this friendship thing worked: he knew me almost as well as I knew myself and I, sometimes, hated that fact because it made hiding things from him damn near impossible. Hence the avoidance.
“Mari?”
“Sawyer?”
“You never shut me out. Don’t start now.”
Ice poured through me, making my muscles rigid. Warm hands landed on my shoulders, massaging out the tension. Slowly, under Sawyer ministrations, I relaxed until my back hit his front.
“Keys?”
I closed my eyes, letting the heat from his body spread through me. “I ran into Cole at the grocery store—or should I say, he ran into me.”
“Ran into you?”
“Knocked my basket clean out of my hands. Shit flew everywhere. I didn’t realize it was him at first.” I cracked one eye open. “Come to think of it, I don’t think he knew it was me. At least, not until we were picking everything up.”
His hands stopped moving. “And?”
“And I told him to fuck off.”
He gripped my shoulders and spun me around, his hands still on my upper arms, holding me away from him. “You did?”
I smiled. “I did and it felt ah-mazing.”
His jaw dropped open but he recovered quickly, a large grin spreading across his face. “I knew you had it in you.”
I winked. “I know. Now help me unload this shit so I can make dinner.”
Between the two of us we worked quickly, although, Sawyer got in my way a lot. I wasn’t used to having a shadow in the kitchen. Usually he just sat back and let me do my thing, but with all the excitement of the day he was amped up and wanted to help. It was annoying.
“Yello,” a voice called from the front room. The only person who used that phrase was Monty.
Sawyer rolled his eyes. Setting down the spoon he’d been using to stir the sauce, he yelled, “In the kitchen.”
We didn’t exactly have a dining room table, or any table big enough to seat five people. Sawyer set three plates on the small table in the kitchen and two more on the counter.
“I brought beer,” Monty singsonged as he walked into the kitchen, waving around two six-packs.
“So did I.” I matched the tone of his voice.
He set them on the counter, pulling out a bottle and twisting off the top, popping the tops off two more bottles and handing them to Sawyer and me.
Monty pointed toward the pot with his beer. “That smells delicious.”
He moved toward the stove but I batted him away with the spoon. Sawyer dropped onto one of the stools. “Where are Heath and Jackson?”
He waved his hand in the air. “Fucking around with some new song.”
“A new song?” Sawyer asked.
“Yeah. Heath had the words in his head and wanted to get it down before he lost it. Jackson’s helping with the melody. I got bored and came over here.”
I pointed my spoon at him with a raised brow. “You got bored writing songs? I don’t think so, that’s one of your favorite things to do.”
“Not today.” He took a sip of his drink. “Today I want to celebrate. We have plenty of time for song writing.”
Sawyer shook his head. “You wouldn’t be saying that if it was you with the song in your head.”
Monty laughed and raised his bottle in a mock toast. “So very true.”
About thirty minutes later there was a light knock on the door before, once again, there was yelling from the front room. “Where’s the baby?” Jackson stepped into the kitchen, waving a handful of papers.
“Bite me, asshole.” Monty flipped them off.
“Shit, Mari, that smells great.” Heath stepped into the room, slapping both Jackson and Monty upside the back of their heads. “You two knock it off.”
“Is that the new song?” Sawyer asked, holding his hand out.
Jackson handed over some worn pieces of paper. “It is.”
“It’s not done. The melody needs a few tweaks, but I’m sure we can work in the other pieces as soon as Monty is done with his day off.” Heath winked over at him, diving away from Monty’s punch.
“If you guys are done fighting, dinner’s done.” I pulled the chicken from the over, setting it on the counter and drizzling sauce from the pan over the top.
Like a bunch of children, the boys scrambled to get in line, fighting for the front spot. After some pushing and shoving, plus a few pinches to the back of arms, everyone finally had a full plate and a place to sit. The guys dug into their food like they hadn’t eaten in days.
Monty made a moaning sound in the back of his throat. “Damn it, Sawyer. I wish you’d told us earlier. How many dinners have we missed out on?”
“Whatever. At least we can celebrate.” Sawyer held his beer up. “To record contracts and a long, successful future.”
“Cheers.”
The sound of clanking glass filled the room. The moment we’d been waiting for had arrived. The contracts were signed and Jaded Ivory was headed to the big leagues.
The feeling when I signed my name on that dotted line was overwhelming. I’d worked hard for things before, but they didn’t usually pan out.
This time was different.
There was one thing I still didn’t understand, though. “What I can’t figure out is why they want us to keep playing the gigs we signed up for?”
Jackson had more knowledge about the industry than the rest of us and took a swig of his beer before answering. “It’s simple. We’ve already built a fan base, which they’ve seen, and they don’t want to chance hurting that by having us cancel. They want to use them to build an even bigger group of fans when we release our first single.”
“Actually, that makes a lot of sense. I’d have missed singing to the crowds.”
Monty laughed. “This is coming from the girl who almost threw up the first time she sang with us.”
“Yep.” I winked at him. “Let’s just say that you’ve grown on me.”
Chuckles around mouths full of food fi
lled the room. It was nice to finally let myself be part of the group instead of watching from the sidelines; something I’d done for way too long. The guys were too preoccupied with eating to talk anymore so I was allowed a brief moment of solitude as I watched my friends enjoy their food, thinking about the future and what this might mean for all of us.
Two hours later, plates empty, bellies full, we sat around the living room. Empty bottles covered the small tables and the remnants of dinner prep still covered the counters in the kitchen. We didn’t have a dishwasher but we were having too much fun for me to harp on Sawyer about getting the dishes done right now. We had a system: I cooked, he cleaned. Worked for me. I hated dishes.
Heath reclined in the chair in the corner, rubbing a hand over his stomach. “Holy shit, Sawyer. You weren’t kidding. Mari, you fucking rock. That dinner was amazing.”
“Thank you,” I said, a warmth spreading through me. The guys seemed to be stuck in food comas, the perfect time to bring up what I’d been thinking about. “I was thinking about getting a guitar of my own again. I haven’t played since high school, but I’d love to have one of my own to work on some ideas.”
Jackson’s brows winged up. “Song ideas?”
I glanced away, not wanting them to see me blush. Most of our songs came from Monty and Heath. Sawyer and Jackson had a few of their own, too, but I usually only made suggestions about what they’d already written, not come up with new stuff on my own. “Yeah, lately I’ve had these ideas rolling around my head and I want to get them down and see if they’d be worth playing.”
“Knowing your talent on a piano, I’d bet they’d be great,” Heath said. “I’ll go and help you pick one out if you want.”
I smiled, his offer doing as much to warm me as his compliments had earlier. “That would be awesome.”
“How have we managed to discuss almost nothing about the contract all night?” Monty glanced around the room at all of us. “Isn’t that supposed to be what we’re celebrating tonight?”
“Yeah.” Heath snuck a quick glance at me. “I also think we’re celebrating having Mari showing us the real her.”
Rock Me (Jaded Ivory Book 1) Page 9
