She stood and looked at him, and probably for one of the only times in their stormy relationship, he thought he saw an inkling of humanity in her, a little empathy in her eyes. “Oh, Nick.” She stroked his cheek, and it took everything in him to not flinch. “I care about you so much…and we’ve had a lot of fun, haven’t we?” He pulled in a breath but kept it calm, doing his damnedest to keep his emotions buried deep inside. He felt his jaw ripple—there wasn’t much he could do about that. “You know I still love Monica, don’t you?”
Yeah. There it was. The truth. The real truth—the one she’d been hiding from him all along. Part of him was angry with her to the core, because he felt like she’d been leading him along, all so she could make herself feel better, but he knew the real liar here had been himself. He’d wanted her so badly, wanted to believe she could and would love him back, that he hadn’t accepted or admitted that someone like Brina would never love him. He nodded, unable to say anything. He hoped his face was frozen like he was trying to make it. She had to know it hurt him—that he loved her and she couldn’t reciprocate—but he didn’t need to make it big. He didn’t want her to someday have that satisfaction.
Should he have known? Yeah, but he’d taken Brina at her word. He was beginning to wonder if she and Monica had ever actually broken up or if she’d just said that so she could play with Nick on the road. He supposed that, ultimately, it really didn’t matter. It was all in the past now, and he had to find a way to carry on.
Before he walked away, he managed to ask, “That who you’re texting?”
He could see another cold answer forming in her eyes, but before she answered, they softened, and she said, “Yeah.”
As he made his way toward the stage, Nick said, “Send her my regards.”
He heard her calling his name as he continued putting one foot in front of the other, but he had to block it out, because he had a job to do. He could hurt later, could deal with this shit later, but he had one last show, and his poor drums were going to get the beating of their life.
Chapter Twenty
NICK COULD HONESTLY say he’d never felt this low. Once he’d left his parents’ house as a teenager, his outlook had been bright. He’d vowed to never let anyone get him down and to always protect his heart.
Somehow, he’d fucked up. He’d let Sabrina in and what had she done? She’d shredded his heart harder than Brad shredded his axe on a nightly basis. Yeah, she’d done it well too, because Nick was starting to think he’d never want to get close to a woman again.
Ever.
He likened the destruction of his heart to what prehistoric man had done to the jungles of ancient earth. They’d razed forests in their attempt to grow food, and Sabrina had done the same thing to his soul—she’d done an expert slash-and-burn maneuver on him, and he doubted he’d ever recover. He hadn’t known until now that he wasn’t equipped to handle those kinds of emotions, and he just knew he was gonna be fucked for life. He was ruined for all women and all because of Brina’s selfish needs. He knew now—he’d been nothing but a plaything for her and he was exposed and bleeding…dying.
Zane had called once but Nick didn’t answer. He didn’t need his old friend knowing what a pussy he’d turned out to be. Zane had often called Nick a master because, for some reason, he’d been really good at getting women into bed. He had no idea how he did it—he didn’t promise love everlasting, and fairly often he wouldn’t even promise they’d have a good time. Nowadays, he knew his rock star status was the explanation, but back in the day? All he could figure was it was because of his sense of humor. He made women laugh, and that was worth its weight in gold. One girl had called him cute, and he figured that was what did it. He was funny and cute.
Now, though, he didn’t know that he wanted to even get that close. Okay, yeah, he would. He loved the feel of a woman’s body too much. Sure, his hand worked just fine, but there was nothing like the smell of a woman—the sounds she made, the taste of her lips and skin, the—
Shit. Now he was just torturing himself.
He looked around the living room in his house, disgusted with himself. There was shit everywhere—dishes, trash, dirty clothes. After their last show, he’d joined the celebration long enough to make an appearance and say goodbye to their friends in Last Five Seconds, and then he’d gone to his bunk on the bus and stayed there until they got to Denver. Once he got home, he pulled his luggage in the door and closed it, fell on the couch, and turned on HBO. The luggage was still parked by the front door. He’d had everything delivered to him over the last week and his assistant—the woman he paid to handle his mail and bills while he was away and clean up after him while he was in town—had tried to arrange three times to meet with Nick, but he’d deflected her, saying he was sick.
Sick in the head, maybe.
He sat on the couch, trying to will himself to get his ass in the shower and then wash all the laundry he’d brought back from tour. He needed to get ready to go back on the road, but he was in no state to do it.
Yeah, Brina had called a few times too, but he wasn’t answering her calls either. He was glad she didn’t know where he lived, because he thought she might try to come over. Why, he didn’t know, but she said she was worried about him. He texted her and told her he was fine, but she wasn’t buying it.
Like she really cared.
Gracie had texted once, asking if he wanted to do a movie night and he’d used the I’m sick excuse with her as well. He didn’t call, because he knew she’d be able to hear it in his voice. A text, short and sweet, was the easiest way to keep emotion out. His reputation as a fun-loving, easygoing guy without a care in the world would remain intact.
He looked at his phone again. It was a little after eleven o’clock. He sighed and then forced himself to stand up. If he could just shower, that would be a big accomplishment.
So he did, and he had to admit that he felt lots better. He still felt like shit, though. Baby steps—that was what he needed. Today, the shower. Tomorrow, a few groceries for the week. The day after, laundry and dealing with the mail and shit. Then he could spend the last few days getting ready for the next leg of the tour. Today, though, he managed to clean himself up, and he was going to consider that good. Now, he’d figure out where he wanted takeout from and figure out if there was an old show he’d never watched that he could go on a viewing marathon of, something to drown out the regrets.
When he sat down on the couch with a can of soda and a menu from the Chinese place he liked to order from, he picked up his cell and saw that he’d missed another call from Zane. He frowned. He really needed to call his friend and see how his other bandmates were doing.
He sighed, drawing a deep breath in through his nose, and then returned the call. He hoped it wasn’t too late on the other side of the world. He had no idea what time it was there. Well, if it was late, Zane wouldn’t pick up the phone and Nick could leave a message.
But Zane picked up the phone and sounded alert. “Nick! I was beginning to think you were blowing off your old friend.” After a pause, he added, “Asshole.”
Nick smiled in spite of how he’d been feeling. “Dude, you know I could never blow you off, even if I wanted to. You’re like a bad girlfriend. You never leave, not even when I get a restraining order against you.”
“Bad girlfriends are all you can snag, man.”
The typical banter with Zane had felt good at first, like just what he’d needed, but Zane’s comment brought it all back. Yeah, he’d gone for years without a girlfriend and it had felt great, but then he found a woman that he thought was the shit, and what had that gotten him? He couldn’t help but be honest, having been caught in that spot at just the right time. “Fuck me. You got that right.”
Zane was quiet for a few seconds, and Nick was glad his friend was taking him seriously. “What’s going on, man? Anything you want to talk about?”
Nick debated for a few seconds. If there was anyone he could talk to about Sabrina, it was Zane
. “Only if you got time.”
“Hell. That’s all I got. We’re done for the day…and have you ever tried finding some action in a foreign country when your wingman’s married with children?”
Nick knew Zane was referring to Ethan, but Ethan and Jenna only had one child—a little girl who wasn’t too much younger than Hayley. “Leaves more women for you, doesn’t it?”
“Eh, I guess. I’m ready to come home. I don’t know why Ethan thought it would be such a great idea to record overseas.”
“He thought it would be just the inspiration you needed.”
“Yeah, but not enough to make it worth our time. Anyway, man, you’re avoiding the question. Talk.”
Nick took another deep breath and gave Zane the short and sweet version…the story about the hot but amazing bassist who just happened to be bisexual and had grabbed Nick by the heart. He left out the part about how much he really had grown to care about her, but he knew his friend would pick up on it. There was no avoiding it, really. He wouldn’t have been in such a shitty mood had Sabrina been just another lay.
“Bitches be bitches,” Zane said when Nick was all done. “What you gotta do, Nick…classic advice. You’ve already been moping around your house, yeah?”
Nick chuckled. “Yeah.”
“Okay, so now stop feeling sorry for yourself. Go out there and get laid. It’s the only cure.”
“Cure?”
“Yeah. Fuck the pain away. Trust me. It works.”
“But that’s—”
“Do it.” After another few seconds, he added, “It’s something you’re good at, man.”
Nick wasn’t going to argue with him, and he knew—having watched lots of his friends triumph over painful breakups—Zane’s advice was solid; he just didn’t know that he was ready. He thought maybe he wanted to feel sorry for himself a little longer. Why, he didn’t know—maybe it was because he wanted to give respect for and properly mourn the first deep love he’d ever had. That deserved more time than a week, didn’t it?
He wanted to fucking wallow and he was going to.
But when Gracie called him again, telling him they needed to do one of their old-fashioned movie nights, he agreed. He didn’t feel like being sad anymore, not around her, at any rate. He knew he’d still carry that heaviness in his heart for a time, but he was tired of hiding away from people…from his friends. He didn’t want to let Brina have that kind of hold over him. It wasn’t fair to his friends or himself, and he didn’t know that she deserved that much mourning.
So he picked up the pigsty he called home after eating a late lunch delivered by the Chinese restaurant and waited for his best friend to come spend time with him and help him keep his mind off the bullshit. He wasn’t going to ask himself anymore what he should do different or what he should try in order to convince Brina to stay. It didn’t feel right and he was pretty sure it wouldn’t work. No, he needed to let her go, and the sooner, the better.
He knew it was going to be hell trying, but he had to.
* * *
God, Gracie was a breath of fresh air. When she arrived, she was wearing clothes that would have been more appropriate for summer—a short skirt and baby doll tee. At least she wore a jacket over the outfit. She was all smiles, holding a bottle of wine and a giant bag of cheese popcorn, two DVDs tucked in her purse.
“You know it’s barely spring, right?”
“It’s nice enough outside.”
“Now. When you go home later, you’ll be freezing your ass off.”
She shrugged, grinning, and walked past him toward the kitchen. “I’ll survive.”
“Uh…you know there’s snow in the forecast for Saturday.”
She turned her head and grinned and then kept walking.
Why the fuck did he notice now, of all times, how creamy the back of her thighs looked? He was in a bit of a daze as he closed the front door and followed her. He swallowed. It had to be because of the whole Brina thing—he was messed up from head to toe, inside and out. Gracie was one of his best friends—no sexual attraction, no…
But when she threw her jacket on one of his kitchen chairs and turned around, he almost swallowed his tongue. Holy shit. She was a complete beauty.
No. No way. It had to be his messed up emotions, because Gracie wasn’t his type. She was the complete and total opposite of Sabrina, from her blonde hair to her squeaky-clean image. He tried to shut off that part of himself so he could focus on acting like the friend he was. “I suppose I’ll either have to break down and let you sleep in the guest bedroom so you can leave tomorrow morning when the sun’s out or I’ll have to lend you some warmer clothes for the drive home.”
She laughed as she opened the cabinet that held the wine glasses. “Geez, Nick, now you sound like my dad.” She was reaching for the top shelf and couldn’t quite reach.
All Nick noticed was the graceful curve of her torso…and the way the t-shirt hugged her breasts. He wanted to grab her right then and there and plant a passionate kiss on her, but nothing doing. He was out of his fucking mind. “Here. Let me get those.” He needed to get the night underway and start watching a movie before he did something supremely stupid.
Man…Sabrina had definitely fucked with his head. What the hell was wrong with him? Once he got the wine glasses down, he said, “Let’s have a drink first. I don’t think I want to sip it with cheese popcorn.”
Gracie giggled. “Yeah…I can’t think of any alcoholic drink that goes well with cheese popcorn. I just know this stuff’s good.”
“Care if I open it now?”
“No. Go ahead. I’ll go get the movie set up.”
He nodded but he was distracted. He watched her as she walked out of the kitchen into the living room and he let out a long sigh, closing his eyes. He had to get himself under control. He knew this was fucked-up emotions talking. He’d never been in love before only to have his heart trampled on, so he didn’t know how to handle it.
And he figured drinking was a stupid response as well.
So, the rest of the night, he didn’t trust himself and put himself on watch. He wanted to make a move so badly, but he knew that was out of the question. Instead, he did his best to try to treat Gracie like he normally would, and he watched the movies and behaved himself.
It was cold and dark out, and Nick offered to walk Gracie out to her car when it was time for her to leave. It wasn’t as cold as Nick had expected, and he was glad Gracie was wearing a jacket, but she stood on the street before getting in her car and asked, “You doin’ okay, Nick?”
“Yeah. Why?” Shit. So much for keeping his cool.
Gracie frowned, pulling her hair behind her shoulder. “I don’t know all that happened, but I know Sabrina did something to you—I don’t know what, but I just want you to know I’m here for you.”
Oh. He scoffed and shrugged, hoping she couldn’t see through him. “Eh, no big deal.” What didn’t help was that he didn’t know how much she knew. “I’m over it.”
He could see in her eyes that she didn’t believe him, but she didn’t say it. Instead, she got up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. “You’re a good guy, Nick.” He saw her lip twitch as she struggled with the next words. “Don’t let her wreck that about you.” And, before he could even reply, she had opened the car door and was seated. She revved the engine and pulled on her seatbelt, waving at Nick before driving off. He backed away from the car so she could leave, but it was a chore doing it, because he felt floored.
Nick realized he wasn’t built for all these damned emotions. That shit should have been left for someone better equipped on the planet, because it sure as hell wasn’t him.
Chapter Twenty-one
NICK WAS NO less confused when they hit the road again, but he knew one thing for certain: he was not going to make a move on Gracie, no matter how much he thought he cared for her. They were best friends and he had no clue how to act in a relationship. He’d wind up hurting her for sure.
Well
, that and he didn’t trust himself anymore. Was he feeling those emotions about Gracie simply because he was still smarting and raw, thanks to Sabrina? He knew it was a definite possibility.
The first few hours on the bus were uncomfortable as hell. He tried to avoid eye contact but he had to at least say hi to her. He knew he’d have to actually talk to her at some point, but he didn’t think he’d ever feel ready to. Several times, Gracie gave him a smile or squeezed a shoulder in silence, sending quiet waves of support. It helped strengthen him.
Now that he was back in Brina’s presence, he knew for certain that his feelings for Gracie had been a simple desire for something different, something more—more than he could ever have with Brina, and he knew it. He ached for much more from her and knew she could never give it to him, not in a million years. He knew that her love for Monica was part of the problem, but he also suspected that she would never want more with or from Nick, with or without Monica in the picture…so why even try?
When they stopped someplace in the middle of nowhere in Nevada that evening for dinner, Brina managed to get close to Nick, and as they walked outside the bus, she curled her arm in his so he could no longer avoid her.
He felt his body stiffen in response. No, he wasn’t repulsed by her, but she’d hurt him badly…maybe even worse than he’d realized. His psyche was trying to protect itself from more damage. He relaxed a little, though, because he was aware now. She couldn’t hurt him any worse than she already had.
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