ALMOST PARADISE

by Williams, Mary J.

  “You’re hilarious, Ames.” Kane picked up a pillow and whacked Morgan on the head. “Isn’t he funny?”

  Perpetual teenage boys, Jax huffed, pulling off his shirt. Three pain in the ass Peter Pans, without the cool ability to fly. And, damn it, they were the best damn friends he’d ever known.

  As if holding court, his expression smug, Kane stretched out his long legs, resting his back against the headboard.

  “Gentlemen, I woke you for a very important reason. We need to set Jax straight about women.”

  “Shut the fuck up,” Jax grumbled.

  “Such language.” Kane gasped with exaggerated horror.

  Shaking his head, Jax took a seat and kicked off his boots. From bitter experience, he knew nothing short of spontaneous mutism would keep Kane from having his say.

  “Never, I mean never, lose perspective over a lovely lady. For example,” Kane continued. “Did you notice the cutie in the corner booth?”

  Beck, his eyes closed, muttered a barely audible no.

  “Come on, you must have seen her. She was here last weekend, too.”

  Morgan, wide awake, exited the bathroom with a glass of water.

  “Need something more specific than the cutie in the corner.”

  “Long, blond ponytail, horn-rimmed glasses. Nursed one beer all night. Kept scribbling in a notepad.”

  “Nope.”

  “Nobody remembers her?” Kane was amazed. “She practically had a neon sign overhead flashing Beware, virgin territory.”

  Suddenly interested, Jax crossed his arms.

  “For someone who forgets a woman’s face before he even leaves her bed, your recollection of the blond cutie is pretty specific.”

  “My point exactly. Because she caught my attention, because I’m allergic to virgins—and tears of regret, I plan to stay far away as possible.”

  “Her tears, or yours.”

  Kane locked eyes with Jax. “For the sake of your peace of mind, and ours, don’t start something with Skye. She isn’t the parking lot blowjob type.”

  Kane viewed the world through a warped lens. A never-there mother and an abusive father tended to mess with a guy’s vision. Which was fine, if he kept his opinion to himself. Trouble was, though he might envy Jax’s happy childhood, a part of him wanted to pull his friend over to the dark side. Walking through life with a perpetual cloud over your head was lonely work.

  A true war of wills between the two friends had yet to erupt. Most of the time, they took out their frustration with each other, with anything, writing. Emotions were easier to sort through with music and lyrics.

  Some of their best songs were born when they were pissed off. Anger redirected into art.

  “First, I doubt Skye is a virgin—just a feeling,” Jax said before anyone could question his reasoning. “Second, I don’t want to marry the woman, simply get to know her.”

  “Fine.”

  “Really?” Jax wasn’t convinced. “No more lectures on the evils of a good woman?”

  “Nope. Just don’t let Skye become our Yoko.”

  Kane closed his eyes. A second later, he was out like a light.

  “I hate how he does that,” Beck sneered. “My mind needs time to wind down. But our lead guitar player, the one man whose misdeeds should keep him up for eternity, can sleep instantly, anywhere, anytime.”

  “Lack of conscience must be a wonderful thing.” Morgan took a pair of running shoes from his duffel bag. “Sun’s peaking over the horizon. Might as well get in a few miles before breakfast.”

  “Wait for me.” None too happy, but resigned, Beck rolled to his feet. “Care to join us?”

  “With one bed all to myself?” Jax scoffed. “Hell, no.”

  “Bastard.” Beck zipped his hoodie with more force than necessary. “I hope you toss and turn, longing for the beauteous Skye.”

  Stripped to his underwear, Jax crawled under the covers. He gave Beck and Morgan a jaunty wave. Beck sent back a one-fingered salute. Tired, ready for blissful nothingness, he found the pillow’s sweet spot.

  Jax didn’t toss and turn, as Beck hoped. As he drifted off, a smile formed on his lips. Skye wasn’t in his thoughts. She was in his dreams.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ♫~♫~♫

  JAX SURVEYED THE empty room. All the hours he spent in bars, he always arrived after the doors were already open, the customers drinking, laughing, having a good time. Funny how different the pre-crowd vibe felt.

  After a show, the energy lingered, in the walls, in him. Now, the room seemed oddly sad. Too soon for the anticipatory rush, all Jax saw was a mirrored wall reflecting bottle after bottle of booze. A row of empty stools pushed next to a bar, the surface scratched and scarred from years of wear. Tables and chairs with wobbly legs.

  And Skye, efficiently prepping for the evening to come. She was the reason Jax couldn’t wait to get to the bar. She was the reason he planned to stay late.

  Nothing sad about her, he thought, staying in the shadows as Skye hummed a familiar tune, then in a surprisingly strong and true voice, sang the final lines of Savior, a song written by Kane.

  The woman was full of surprises.

  Last Saturday, as he helped her clean, Skye finally talked to him—really opened up. What he had learned wasn’t a surprise. However, the nuances only she could provide were important.

  When Skye graduated, she would teach. Jax could tell education wasn’t her passion, but when pushed, she became defensive.

  Dreams didn’t pay the bills, she told him. A partial scholarship only went so far, she needed student loans to take care of the rest. Because she lived at home with her father and sister, the money she earned at the bar went to help with rent and other expenses.

  Maybe he was wrong, Jax thought as he watched her go from table to table in the same weekly, mindless routine. Skye was sad.

  However, spending time with her made him happy. Until he remembered after tonight, he might never see her again.

  “Where do you go when you aren’t here?” Skye handed him a tray filled with bowls of pretzels.

  “Some bars offer mid-week music. Tuesday, we played a wedding in Salem and another in Eugene on Thursday.”

  “I can’t imagine Razor’s Edge bopping out The Chicken Dance.”

  “We don’t bop—ever.” Jax winced at the idea.

  “Aw, did I hit a sore spot?”

  The teasing glint in Skye’s dark eyes lowered Jax’s hackles and set his heart racing.

  “The money’s decent, and we can’t be picky. Starving musicians do what’s necessary. Then, agree never to speak of the indignity—ever again.”

  They walked the room in a circular pattern, leaving a bowl on each table.

  “When you hit the big time, you’ll have some great stories to tell Rolling Stone.”

  “You seem so certain we’re going to succeed.”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “Yes.” Jax refused to believe anything else. “Still, most musicians toil in the background their entire careers. Or give up the life altogether for something safe.”

  Something mind-numbingly boring.

  “Toil in the background? Interesting turn of phrase of a self-described uneducated Aussie.”

  “My folks spent what extra cash they had on books. The importance of reading was emphasized in the Cross household. A fact you can appreciate.”

  Jax nodded toward the ever-present book in Skye’s apron pocket. The cover was worn, well-loved.

  “The End of Rainbows.” Skye made a happy humming sound deep in her throat. “Best book ever. In a perfect world, I’d…”

  “What?” Jax urged, desperate to dig deeper into what made Skye tick.

  “Dreams are silly.”

  “Dreams are vital.” Placing a finger under her chin, Jax forced her to meet his gaze. “Without dreams, we wither and die inside.”

  A spark of hope flared in Skye’s dark eyes. />
  “You make me want to believe. But what I want is beyond realistic.”

  “Tell me. No one else must know. Just between us.” Jax crossed his heart. “I promise.”

  “If I had the money, I’d buy the film rights to The End of Rainbows.”

  “You’d make sure a bunch of Hollywood hacks didn’t ruin the movie?”

  Skye nodded, visibly relieved.

  “You do understand.”

  Not completely. Dreams were as individual as fingerprints. However, Jax felt closer to Skye than before.

  “Would you write the screenplay?”

  “I’d consult,” she chuckled “Writing isn’t my forte. What I really want? My deepest, most secret wish?”

  Skye’s voice lowered, drawing Jax close. When she hesitated, he held his breath, afraid she’d reached her sharing limit.

  “I want to play Laurel.”

  Little more than a barely-there whisper, the words seemed to float between them until Skye gasped, drawing them back. But the truth was out, and Jax refused to let her pretend otherwise.

  “You don’t want to be a teacher. You want to act.”

  “Dreams, remember?” Skye blinked, chasing away the hope. When she raised her eyes, all Jax could see was resignation. “My life is grounded in reality. I don’t have time for anything else.”

  “May I borrow the book?”

  “Really?”

  “Please.”

  Jax wasn’t a big novel reader; he preferred short stories, usually science fiction. The End of Rainbows was important to Skye. If he discovered the reasons, perhaps he would understand her better.

  She clutched the well-read copy to her chest, looking at him hard. Jax held his breath. Can I trust you, she seemed to ask. Her answer came when she handed him the book. Without another word, she turned and left.

  Jax let her go. If possible, he would deliver Skye’s wish on a silver platter. Unfortunately, while dreams were free, real life took money, a commodity he planned to acquire, but for now, sorely lacked.

  Someday, he thought. When he was rich and famous, he would give Skye anything her heart desired. He only hoped, for the sake of her dreams, someday didn’t come too late.

  For now, Jax had his own future to think about. Lucky, he wasn’t bound by any responsibility except to himself and Razor’s Edge.

  ~ ~ ~

  “KYLIE IS LATE,” Beck sighed. “AGAIN.”

  “She’s out—for good.” Morgan crossed his arms over his black Metallica t-shirt, daring anyone to argue. “Right?”

  “Agreed.” Kane checked his watch. “We sound fine without her. Better. The duets become solos. No big deal.”

  “Unless we get someone else.”

  Three sets of surprised eyes turned toward Jax.

  “You groused about adding a girl singer. Now you want someone new?” Beck threw up his hands. “Welcome to Bizzaro World.”

  “I was opposed to Kylie.” Jax sent Kane an I told you so smirk. “Give me someone reliable, who can actually hit the proper notes, and I’m on board.”

  “We can talk about a possible replacement later. Right now, we have a show to do,” Morgan reminded them.

  “I already have someone. Skye.” Now, all he had to do was tell her.

  “You want to replace one girlfriend with another?” From his expression, the idea didn’t make Beck happy.

  “Girlfriend?”

  Jax and Kane spoke at once, Kane appalled, Jax terrified.

  “Skye is a girl. And we’re friends. But we aren’t… I mean, we don’t…” Jax let out a frustrated growl. “Do I call her up, or not?”

  “You haven’t screwed?” Kane asked without inflection.

  “No.”

  “Okay.”

  “Why?” Morgan demanded.

  “Sexual tension,” Kane explained.

  “He’s right.” Beck grinned, obviously warming to the idea. “When two people want to go at it but don’t, the unsatisfied oomph makes a song sound better. Haven’t you noticed the way Kane and Jax look at each other during Lonely Road?”

  Kane’s lips twitched, but for the sake of his take-no-shit reputation, his gaze narrowed to a threatening slit.

  “Might need to knock you down a peg or two after the show.”

  “Are we agreed?” Jax waited. Nothing was done without a majority vote.

  Beck took his drumsticks from his back pocket and nodded.

  “I guess one night won’t doom our careers,” Morgan reluctantly conceded.

  “Go get her, son.” Kane shoved Jax toward the bar where Skye waited for an order to be filled. “We don’t have all night.”

  Jax practiced his pitch as he walked across the room, searching for just the right words. In the end, he decided to forget the pretense and simply beg. Skye wasn’t impressed by his sad-eyed plea.

  “No. Absolutely not.”

  “One song, Skye.” Jax scurried after her, dodging bodies as she delivered drinks. “Near the end of the last set.”

  “I’m not a singer.”

  “You have a great voice.”

  Skye stopped in her tracks, right in the middle of the bar.

  “How would you know?”

  “You sing when you work—when you don’t think anyone is around to hear.”

  A man incongruously dressed preppy style, circa nineteen-eighty-five, in an Izod shirt turned up at the collar, a pastel pink sweater tied around his neck, and sockless leather loafers, yapping on his phone about nothing, bumped into Skye.

  Somehow, she managed to keep her balance and hold her tray level, not spilling a drop. Without giving the jerk, or his lack of apology, a second thought, she continued to the next table. Jax on her heels.

  “You know the words. You have the voice. Be a part of Razor’s Edge for one night. As a favor to the band—to me.”

  “The bar is packed to the rafters. Even if I wanted to help, which I don’t, Dragon would never agree.”

  The second of hesitation in Skye’s voice gave him all the hope he needed to push his advantage.

  “If I pull a yes from him, will you join us?”

  “If—”

  “Keep working. You know the set, the order of the songs. As Unreliable Heart ends, come on stage.”

  “Dragon won’t say yes,” Skye warned.

  The gruff owner wouldn’t have a choice. When Jax made up his mind, dug in, single-minded, stubborn as a mule and determined not to take no for an answer, he won—every time.

  Five minutes later, he was on stage, picking up his guitar. Kane couldn’t miss his smug look of satisfaction.

  “Threatened not to play if Dragon didn’t agree to let your sweetheart skirt her duties?”

  “Simply suggested the band might come down with a mass case of laryngitis, which could be avoided if he let Skye join us for one song.”

  “Ballsy bastard. I hope the day you butt heads against someone with a stronger will than yours, other than me, I’m around to witness your comeuppance.”

  “You plan on going somewhere?”

  “Nope.” Kane set his beer on the amplifier, next to three unopened cans. “Right where I want to be.”

  “Then, if the day comes, no reason you won’t witness my downfall.”

  Moving to the microphone, Jax, filled with the arrogance of youth and a history of never losing, winked at his oldest friend.

  Kane shook his head and grinned. A second later, he made the strings on his guitar sing as no one else could, a signal to the audience the show was about to begin. Beck raised his sticks. Morgan settled into his signature feet-spread, screw the world stance.

  The buzzing voices quieted to a manageable roar. A heartbeat later, as the first note of Sing Me a Prayer began, deafening applause erupted, whoops, and whistles, making the building shake—literally.

  Jax closed his eyes, absorbing the energy. Even as a young boy, he sensed this was where he belonged, on stage, in fro
nt of an audience. How many times had he drifted to sleep with the image in his head? Too many to count.

  While fantasies drove his childish ambitions, nothing could have prepared him for the reality. The burgeoning taste of success was heady, startling, a bit overwhelming, and exactly what he wanted.

  Taking a deep breath, Jax made himself a promise—no matter how his story ended, he would never forget the beginning.

  “We’re Razor’s Edge.”

  The crowd screamed, chanted their name. Jax glanced to his right, certain the holy shit expression on Kane’s grinning face mirrored his own.

  With a nod, they sang the first words. Jax’s vocals soared, strong and rich, every note easily within his range. Kane’s voice was less polished, a little gravelly, but true and sure. The combination, a perfect fit, blending soulful emotion into powerful harmonies.

  The average listener might not understand the nuances or realize how long and hard they’d worked to find their sound. They knew.

  Every time Jax and Kane sang a song, the natural connection they couldn’t have manufactured in a million years was honed to a delicate balance between off-the-charts power and down-to-earth emotion.

  The first song came to an end. Seamlessly, Kane took the lead, Morgan, and Beck adding their voices, their harmonies. Instead of four parts of a whole, Razor’s Edge was a unit, each member as important as the others. Bandmates. Friends. Brothers.

  An hour flew by, then another, and another. Tireless, loving every second, they could have played until dawn and beyond. Unfortunately, the bar had laws to follow.

  With fifteen minutes left, Jax scanned the room, easily finding the halo of Skye’s hair as she served the customers with her usual efficiency. He could tell by the way she glanced toward the stage at regular intervals, her mind wasn’t fully on her job.

  Knowing the time was near, she looked right at him. Jax gave a short nod, his meaning clear.

  Skye swallowed hard, taking a shaky breath. A wave of sympathy pinged at his conscience, but not heavy enough to call off their deal. Kane’s strong lead vocal faded, bring an end to Unreliable Heart.

  “We have a special surprise for you tonight.” As Jax anticipated, his promise of the unexpected sent a flurry of anticipation through the already hyped-up bodies.