She was about to hit the call button when there was another knock on her door. She gasped and spun to face it.
For a moment, she considered pretending she wasn’t there, but of course where else would she be? Juliet was crazy, not stupid. When the knock came again, she sidled closer.
“Who is it?” she called through the door.
“It’s Sean,” came the muffled response.
Now her heart was racing for a whole different reason. With a shaking hand, she flicked the deadbolt. Gripping the handle, she took a deep breath and opened the door.
Sean was grinning from ear to ear, clutching a bouquet of flowers like they were about to go on a first date. He handed them to her. “For your new office.”
“Oh.” She blinked down at them in surprise. “Thank you. You’re early.”
“Sorry,” he said. “I was just anxious to see you. I’m so glad you called. Can we go somewhere? Maybe grab a coffee? Some lunch?”
“Look, Sean. I wanted to talk to you about Sunday night. What you said—”
“Was all true. Every word of it.” He grabbed her hands in his, squeezing them. “I was an idiot to ever let you go.”
“You mean stand me up.” She tugged her hands away. “You didn’t let me go. You didn’t respect me enough to be up front with me. You just ran away.”
“I know. I owe you an explanation.”
“No. Don’t.” She held up a hand. “I don’t want to hear it. I don’t really care. All I wanted to say is that you can’t just show up at my apartment like that. You can’t just come waltzing back into my life unannounced. I don’t know you. You don’t know me. Not anymore. I’m a different person.”
Maybe he’d forgotten how blunt she could be, or maybe she’d grown less patient for subtlety over the last six years, but he winced at the no-nonsense tone in her voice. “I know. And I want to get to know that person.”
Zoe tried to remind herself that she’d loved this man once, and that, despite the sheer insanity of it, he’d come because he clearly had feelings for her still.
Uncrossing her arms, she softened her tone. “But that person doesn’t want to get to know you. I’ve moved on. I’m over it.”
Walking over to her desk, she slid open the top drawer and grabbed the ring box she’d dug out of her closet that morning. She’d never been able to get rid of her old engagement ring—she supposed in the way she’d never let go of her wedding dress. Or that day.
She handed it back to Sean. “I’ve moved on with my life. You should too.”
Sean didn’t quite know what to say after that. Hell, neither did she. Her revelation came as much of a surprise to her as it probably did to him. Maybe more so.
Zoe had been dreading this moment all week, and probably for much longer than that. It was as though she’d been afraid of the memory of him.
And yet, as he finally stood there in front of her after all these years, she found she was rather tired of wasting her time on him, on their past, on her memories and fears. After six years of letting that one day control her life, she didn’t want to waste another minute on it.
She held the door open for him. “Thanks for stopping by. And for the flowers.”
Sean took a deep breath and nodded. “Take care of yourself.”
“Thanks. I will,” she said, and meant it. And when she finally closed the door on that chapter, she knew the first place to start.
Picking a pair of scissors off her desk, she took care of that hideous old wedding dress, once and for all.
26
Face the Music
Zoe, Piper, and Addison strolled down Folsom Street like they owned the town. Heck, with all the properties Aiden owned in the city, once Piper became Mrs. Caldwell, maybe she would. And by the way the men lingering outside the SoMa bars eyed them, the girls were definitely owning their dresses.
After the rehearsal dinner, they’d raided Zoe’s closet for the sexiest, slinkiest numbers while Addison worked her magic on hair and makeup. And, damn, were the results tempting—at least they seemed to be tempting the bouncer at the next bar. He was practically licking his pierced lips.
And why the hell not? Wasn’t that what a bachelorette party was for? Saying sayonara to all the single men. Giving them one last look at what they’d missed out on? Look out San Francisco, Zoe thought.
Zoe glanced at Piper in her red cocktail dress and thought the men of San Francisco would be weeping that night. And Addison? Well, she was taken too. She was practically a step-mom now, but she loved any excuse to doll herself up.
But Zoe had nothing in her way. No memories of Sean, no fear of getting hurt, and definitely no Levi. By all the calls he didn’t return that week, he’d made it clear that she was the last thing on his mind. And she was ready to prove that he was the last thing on hers.
She felt six years of repressed emotions and desires ready to burst out of her. There was no holding her back. Or maybe that was the shots they’d had at Felix’s bar earlier talking.
Piper dragged her friends into the bar with the pierced bouncer. Zoe gave him a wink as she flashed her ID. He swung the door open and they stepped inside.
A wave of stale booze hit Zoe’s nose like a sucker punch. She could feel the heavy bass pulsating through the floorboards, thumping inside her chest.
It wasn’t exactly the kind of club she’d envisioned for Piper’s bachelorette. Since it was the night before her big day, she’d suggested something quiet and subdued. Zoe had expected maybe a few rounds at a classy wine bar.
But this dive wasn’t quiet nor subdued. In fact, among all the ripped jeans, leather, and chains, their sexy cocktail dresses stood out like the only single girl at a bouquet toss.
Zoe sidled closer to Piper. “Are you sure about this place?”
“Oh, I’m definitely sure,” she said. “Besides this is the last place Holly Hart will think to look for us. And I’m getting really tired of dodging her.”
“True,” she relented. A guy smiled at them as they walked by. The black lights glowed off his teeth, which were all filed to points.
“But maybe that’s also a bad thing,” Addison said. “Because no one will think to look for us here if we, you know, don’t turn up.”
“Oh, come on. It will be fun.” Piper grabbed both their hands and dragged them deeper into the noisy, crowded bar.
Zoe eyed up a guy dripping with chains, a studded dog collar cinched around his neck. “Something tells me I’m not going to find my dream guy here.”
Piper rolled her eyes at Zoe. “You’ve been saying you’re going to find your dream guy all night, and I haven’t seen you talk to a single guy yet.”
“Yeah, what’s stopping you?” Addison asked, skirting around the studded collar guy. “Could it be the fact that you’re waiting for a certain musician to call?”
Instead of scoffing, Zoe barked a “Ha!” to be heard over the music that was growing louder the deeper into the heart of the bar they went. “What musician could you possibly be referring to?”
“Still haven’t heard from him, huh?” Piper asked.
“Nope.” Following Piper, Zoe squeezed through the people around the edge of the dance floor who were too cool to dance.
“Maybe he never saw the letter you wrote for him,” Addison suggested.
Zoe regretted writing the damn letter now that he’d clearly read it and ignored it. What had started out as a list of things she’d wanted to say to Levi, a way to organize her thoughts, ended up as a three-page detailed letter explaining the night at her apartment and how she really felt about him.
Absence hadn’t made her heart grow fonder, it just allowed her to listen to what was really in it, and that was deep feelings for Levi. She missed him. She wanted to be with him. And not just for a night.
She wanted him night after night after night. And the mornings too. She wanted to go on dates with him, to show him stupid childhood photos of her, to make dinner with him, and listen to him serenade her. It turn
ed out that her heart wanted more of Levi.
He hadn’t returned any of her calls all week, so the night before, she’d driven over to his apartment. Using the key he’d given her, she left the letter on his kitchen cupboard. Of course, after coming to her senses moments later, she’d wanted to take it back, but she’d slid the key under the door after locking up. There was no getting it back.
“Maybe it slipped under a sofa, and he never even saw it,” Addison said. “Just like when Leo DiCaprio didn’t get Claire Danes’s letter in Romeo and Juliet.” She jumped up and down excitedly, as though that must be it. A guy in a Nirvana shirt clearly misinterpreted and began jumping around her, trying to dance.
Zoe dragged her away, blocking the guy with her own body. “And all the calls he never returned?”
“Maybe he lost his phone,” Piper said.
“Maybe he accidentally dropped it into a mosh pit and someone stomped on it,” Addison said. “That must happen. Occupational hazard.”
“Or maybe he just doesn’t want to talk to me,” Zoe yelled over the music. It was clear she’d already been rejected. Her friends just couldn’t see it.
“But—”
“It’s for the best. Trust me,” she said with finality.
“Come on. Let’s dance,” Piper yelled, dragging her friends farther onto the dance floor until they were right beneath the stage among sweaty bodies pushing and jumping.
The next song began, slowly at first, then it built up in heat and rhythm, infecting Zoe’s body. Her hips began to sway and her hands reached for the sky. As the intro peaked, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the lead singer lean into the mic to belt out the first verse.
The smooth, deep voice froze her gyrating body. Her head whipped toward the stage and she glanced up, but she already knew who she’d see: Levi.
Zoe suddenly felt exposed on the dance floor, static among a sea of waving hands and wriggling bodies. She wanted to hide. She wanted to run, but before she could move, his gaze that was scanning the crowd found her, as though he could sense her there.
His voice faltered and he hesitated before picking the tune up again, making it seem as though it was on purpose. He closed his eyes as he focused on the song.
Their connection broken, Zoe found she could move again. She pushed against jostling, sweaty bodies. They pressed back, surging forward to fill her space at the front.
As she scrambled to get away, she got an elbow to the ribs, a heel to her shin, a flailing arm to the face, but she forged on, not paying attention to the crowd or the music.
She’d pretended she didn’t care that Levi never called. But she did care, and she couldn’t deny it when it was right there in her face, all around her, girls screaming his name.
“Levi! Levi! Levi!”
Someone grabbed her arm from behind. “Zoe!” It was Piper. “Don’t be upset. When I saw he was playing a gig here tonight, I thought that if we came, you could talk things out.”
“Now you can tell him how you feel,” Addison said.
Zoe was already backing away. “I’m sorry. I just need to get out of here.”
She turned and finished weaving her way through the crowded bar, resisting the urge to start throwing punches to clear the way. After avoiding these feelings for six years, now that they’d returned, all she wanted to do was run away from them.
Finally, she broke through to the back of the dance floor where the bodies spread out. She picked up her pace, heels sticking to the beer lacquered floor.
With each step that brought her closer to the exit, she could breathe a little easier. Then the band hit the chorus, and the familiar words rang clearly through her head. Her breath caught in her chest.
“You drive me plum crazy.
Now it’s 20-20.
You are the one for me.
So why can’t you see?
Miss Plum Crazy.
You drive me Plum Crazy.”
It was Levi’s limerick he’d serenaded her with at the expo. But he’d improved it. He’d actually made it into a real song.
The sticky floor seemed to make it impossible to keep moving. Her feet were frozen to the spot. And as he sang on, his voice thickened with emotion, with importance, emphasis. His heavy words weighed down on her, holding her there.
And despite her desire to avoid him, to hide herself and her heart, there was a pleading tone in his voice that made her turn around. When she did, his tortured gaze was locked on hers above the crowd as he sang the song he’d written about her.
Suddenly, the crowd faded away until it was just the two of them. And Levi was singing only to her, telling her how he felt through his lyrics.
“Why do you hide behind your mask?
I still see you.
Take off yours and I’ll take off mine,
To be near you.
So just let me in and we’ll be all right.
I need you.
Miss Plum Crazy.
You drive me plum crazy.”
Zoe found herself slowly drifting back toward him, eager to hear more of the song, until she was standing below him again. It was like those piercing blue eyes were undressing her, not in a sexual way, but as though he were removing her armor.
Since she’d met him, it felt like he could see her for who she was, the insecurities, the hiding, and yet he still cared for her. Her. Not the woman she let people see. He saw the woman underneath the mask.
The song drew to an end, but he still didn’t remove his gaze from hers. “Thank you, everybody. We’re Reluctant Redemption. Thanks for coming out. Have a good night!”
The bar erupted into cheers and whistles, but Levi didn’t wait to take a bow or soak it all in. He leapt off the stage, landing in front of Zoe.
He grabbed her hand. “Come with me.”
Hands patted his back, congratulating him on a good set. He tossed head nods and thank-yous but didn’t slow as he led Zoe around the side of the stage and through a door that said staff only.
The door slammed closed behind them, muffling the raucous sounds, shutting out the rest of the world. Their quick footsteps clicked loudly in the silence backstage as they slipped past spare mic stands and stepped around old speakers stacked against the wall.
Zoe could finally hear herself think about what she was going to say to him, how she would explain her feelings, her fears, her uncertainty. Yet despite all of those things, her heart raced to have her hand clasped in his, to know that he hadn’t stopped thinking about her the entire time he was gone. Instead he’d been writing a song about her, singing about her.
Neither of them spoke as he opened a door with their band name scribbled on a taped piece of paper. Not verbally, anyway. His eyes said everything she needed to know as he cast glances over his shoulder. The way they drank the sight of her in, scraped over every inch of her tight purple dress, she knew he couldn’t wait to peel it off of her.
The moment they were inside the small dressing room, their lips came together. Her hands caressed the contours of the face she’d missed seeing. Stubble scraped her fingertips.
His arms locked around her, crushing her body against his. Pressing his tongue into her mouth, he moaned as she caressed it with her own, hungry to taste her again like he’d been starved all week.
Raising his foot, he kicked the door closed. It slammed shut like a gunshot going off for a race to have more of each other, touch more, taste more. They tugged at clothes and pulled at buttons.
Levi’s hot hands slid down her back. Her cocktail dress was so tight, he might as well have been feeling her naked body.
Cupping her butt, he hoisted her up. Her legs automatically wrapped around him, locking behind his back.
He pressed her up against the door. The cool metal stung her back, making her realize how hot she was. Hot for Levi. Her skin blazed beneath his touch, his mouth like fire against hers, his breath like steam as he ran his kisses down her neck.
Levi carried her to a vanity on the other side of t
he room. Glass bottles crashing to the floor as he swept the clutter aside with one quick swipe, before sliding her onto the counter.
She gripped his hips and pulled him closer. He pressed himself between her parted legs, tugging her long hair aside as he ran his hot kisses down her neck to the top of her low-cut dress.
Greedy for more, he tugged down on the stretchy fabric until her perky breasts popped out the top. With the built-in support in the dress, she’d skipped the bra, so when her tight nipples popped out, he groaned in surprise. He brought his mouth against one, swirling and flicking with his tongue.
“I need you,” she breathed. Her desperate, grasping hands reached for his belt and unhooked the leather, sliding it free.
Levi’s hand clasped over hers, and he pulled away. His face screwed up, and he groaned as though it pained him to stop her. He tilted his head back and took a few labored breaths before answering.
“I want to, but—”
“I don’t mean sex,” she said. “I mean … okay, I want that too. But it’s because I want you.”
His eyes closed for a moment. Clearly everything that remained unsaid was suddenly coming back to him. “What about your fiancé?”
Zoe laughed, still a little breathless. “I’m not engaged. My mother, she wanted to arrange a marriage for me, and because I didn’t want to upset her in the hospital, I agreed to a date. I don’t know what she told him, but knowing her, she probably already had the venue booked. But I’m not marrying him,” she assured him.
“And your ex?”
“Still an ex. I accidentally ran into him the other day, but I barely even talked to him. I don’t know why he got it in his head to show up at my place.” She widened her eyes, as though she could hypnotize him into believing her.
“It’s just, I’ve been thinking about you all week. Obviously.” He kind of laughed. “And then I saw you here, and I just thought, I hoped that you came because you were thinking the same things.”
A Wedding Tail Page 29
