Let Loose for Me

by Coffman, Georgia

  After all, I knew what this was from the beginning.

  I knew Ty wouldn’t be capable of real feelings—of a real relationship.

  He has the brain of a twelve-year-old.

  But I’ve gotten to know him better the last few months, and I’ve seen a side to him that stupidly made me think we could become more.

  Leo appears on stage, pointing to where Kendall stands next to me. “If everyone can please turn their attention to the center of the room, we have a very important announcement from the man of the hour himself.”

  I step aside, tears in my eyes for my friend.

  “Kendall.” Sebastian takes her hand in his. “When I first met you, I was fascinated. You’re way funnier and prettier than anyone I’d ever met, and you definitely have the most attitude.”

  The room laughs softly.

  “You have the biggest heart and an infectious drive to show up every day and be better. You helped me take the leap and open this hotel, my dream. I hope you’ll help me realize another dream too.”

  She gasps as he gets down on one knee and holds out the ring for her.

  “Will you marry me?”

  She leaps into his arms, whispering and nodding her acceptance.

  I wipe the tears from under my eyes and instinctively meet Ty’s gaze across the space.

  He doesn’t smirk or smile.

  He only winks in my direction in a way that could be directed at anyone, not the one he just felt up in the closet thirty minutes ago.

  We don’t talk the rest of the night.

  CHAPTER 39

  Ty

  “Five, six, seven, eight.” Leo claps his hands at the front of the studio, his face red and scrunched, upset that one half of the room is off a beat. It’s like they’re in a different time zone and can’t help but be behind. “Rafael! Keep up. Jordan, stop watching Raf. Eyes to the front. Let’s go!”

  Sweat runs down the side of my face. Puffing my chest out, I inhale deeply and spin on cue, drowning out the rest of the guys and listening only to the music. Feeling the music. Feeling it like Emma’s fingers grazing my skin.

  Like it’s part of me.

  That’s what music and this profession are to me. That’s why I want to make it my future, which involves me focusing and getting better.

  Leo hasn’t made a decision yet. He put it on hold to help Sebastian with the hotel. If Leo does decide to leave, I’ll be crushed, but I’m coming around to the idea of stepping up.

  We talked about the details just last week, of how it might work, and I didn’t gag.

  I take in the room, my gaze falling on Jordan, who watches Raf out of the corner of his eye. I know none of these clowns can step up to the challenge of leading.

  “Jordan!” Leo barks again, the vein in his neck ready to burst, then softens his tone. “What did I just instruct you to do? Stop watching Raf and count. Maybe then we can all be on beat.”

  I chuckle, knowing good and well that Jordan will be diving into a Lysol pool later. If who he ended up in bed with last night was as bad as he claims, he’s going to need a supernatural cleanse for his soul and body.

  After practice, I head straight home, avoiding Leo’s obvious need to talk if his pleading expression was anything to go by.

  I’ve known him long enough to know he sensed my discomfort. My pain. My sadness.

  It happens every February.

  “You turned out all right, you know?” Sebastian said to me while we stood side by side last week, staring out at the ocean in the distance, right before he proposed to Kendall. “Your sister would be proud of you.”

  I exhale, mulling his words over for the hundredth time, letting the words sink in, believing them on some level, but mostly, disbelieving that she would be proud of the things I’ve done.

  Of the things I haven’t been able to do.

  I check my phone then, scrolling through the messages from Naomi. We’ve been chatting here and there lately—the usual around this time of year.

  But she’s only made me feel worse instead of better like she normally does.

  I finish putting my Jordans on when I hear a soft knock at my front door. Checking the time to make sure I’m not late, I wonder who it could be.

  Opening the door slowly, I nearly drop to my knees.

  “Hi,” she says timidly, looking left and right like she’s on the run, making sure she wasn’t followed. “I hope this is okay. Sebastian told me you lived here, and since you always come to LA, I figured I’d come visit you for once.”

  With a huge grin, I scoop Emma up in a warm embrace before kissing her hard on the mouth.

  My angel.

  My body responds to her touch, her lips, her presence here at my home. After the hotel opening, I wasn’t sure where we stood. Something changed that night. Being with her in the closet while Sebastian and Kendall celebrated their love, it felt off.

  Our hiding felt wrong.

  But making us public didn’t feel quite right, either, not yet.

  And with the hellish day that’s coming, it all feels more and more wrong, even though holding her feels right. Like my salvation. Like the outstretched hand for you to grab onto so you don’t fall over the edge, plummeting to your demise.

  I pull back and grab her hand, leading us to my car. “You’re just in time.”

  CHAPTER 40

  Emma

  I said I wouldn’t chase him and beg him to want me for the long run. We said it was casual and easy. We agreed it was for fun, no strings. And now I want more? What do I expect from a guy like him? To settle down and buy a two-story house with a fence where our kids could play?

  Ty isn’t that kind of guy. He’s a stripper and a player. The kind that’s capable of hurting me more than Brant ever did.

  But that’s the thing. I never spoke up with Brant. I let him do whatever he wanted, and at the end, I silently walked away.

  I won’t go silently now. Not this time.

  There’s more to Ty. There’s more to the darkness lingering in his eyes. The darkness that grows every day lately and puts distance between us.

  It’s why I showed up in Vegas to surprise him. I want to know what he’s hiding. I want to know him and see for myself what we’re capable of.

  “Where are we going?” I ask for the fifth time.

  “You really don’t like not being in control, do you?”

  “I can give up control…” My face heats at my innuendo, at how I often give up control when it comes to Ty.

  “Damn right, you can.” He kisses the back of my hand, not easing up on his grip. He hasn’t let go of it since we left his apartment except to get in the car. I thought he might even climb over me to get to the driver’s side just so he wouldn’t have to let go.

  We then pull up to a building that looks a lot like a gymnasium. It’s similar to our middle school gym where I played basketball, once upon a time. But we don’t stop there. We keep driving around the corner and stop at a small building.

  “We’re at school?”

  Nodding, Ty puts the car in park, then turns off the engine. “It’s a community college. Class starts in five minutes.”

  “Class?”

  His eyes glimmer before he gets out of the car, coming around to kiss me on the mouth like we’re in my bedroom, behind closed doors, but we’re not. We’re in the open.

  But we’re also in Vegas, where no one knows us, where we don’t have to hide.

  I relax into his embrace, pulling him toward me when he tries to back away. I kiss him harder than he kissed me to let him know I’m here.

  I’m in this.

  I want this—him.

  I pull back, even though he groans. “Now, let’s go before we’re late. I’m never late, remember?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” His eyes shine, and although that’s his normal self, there’s still something missing. Something’s still off with him.

  A sadness behind his twinkling eyes and sexy smirk.

  We walk in silen
ce, hand in hand, into an art room set up with so many easels it doesn’t look like anyone else can fit in here. There are already many students set up and chatting. Some are even working already.

  “Are you sure it’s okay for me to be here?” I ask. “I didn’t pay for this class.”

  He chuckles. “I’ve paid enough for it that you can be here for one class.”

  An older woman stands in front of the room, her wisps of gray hair bouncing along. She eyes the class and begins her spiel about portraits, and then her eyes land on me in the back with Ty.

  I shiver, not because I’m not supposed to be here, but because she watches me like she recognizes me. Even smiles in my direction like she’s happy I’m here.

  Confused, I smile back, unsure of what else to do. Do I wave? No, that would bring too much attention to me. Slicking my hair back with my hand, I sit and listen to the rest of her introduction to the class instead.

  Once she’s finished, she walks to us in the back, where Ty pulls out a canvas from the corner and sets it on his easel.

  Me.

  It’s a half-finished painting of me.

  I lightly gasp as I take in his work. It’s only part of my profile, my hair covering most of my face, but it’s definitely me.

  “Hopefully, with you being here, he can finally finish one of these paintings.” The gentle voice jolts me in my seat. Her words are confusing me further. “I’m Mrs. Hannigan, but you can call me Alice.”

  I reach my hand out to shake hers. “I’m Emma. I’m friends with Ty and—”

  “Oh, yes. I know who you are.” She smiles warmly at me, and her presence immediately calms me. Whatever nerves I had for coming to visit him or crashing her course, they all vanish as she speaks. “I’m glad you’re here. Like I said, he hasn’t been able to finish a single painting of you in months. He’s like a dog chasing his tail.”

  Ty finally says something but doesn’t look up from his paints. “Thank you for calling me out. That’s why I keep coming here, for all the compliments.”

  “Well, someone has to keep you humble.” She rolls her eyes before patting my hand. “It’s very nice to meet you, dear, and I hope you come back. We’re having an art show next month, and I really wish you’d come.” I expect to find her smiling, but she’s frowning instead. She’s looking at Ty like she hurts for him, yet is disappointed.

  Like she knows I won’t be back.

  Like she knows Ty won’t let that happen.

  It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask what they know that I don’t. Why Ty won’t finish paintings of me. Why he comes here in the first place.

  But all the questions get jumbled in my mind, my head spinning as I look around to make sure the entire class isn’t in on some joke, but no one’s paying attention to me.

  I turn back to Ty. He seems older than the rest of the students, except for a couple in the corner who appear to be in their forties.

  He hasn’t talked about this class or Alice. He hasn’t mentioned any other classes. Only thing he’s told me is that he went to college and roomed with Sebastian. He never graduated, so is that why he’s in this class?

  He continues painting in silence, and I start my own. I’m not much of an artist. My black and white tree resembles a toddler’s doodle.

  “Are you sure you haven’t done this before? You’re a natural.”

  I imagine Ty’s sarcastic smile before I see it, and I laugh at his comment. My tree is pretty sad compared to his intricate drawing of me. “You didn’t tell me we were coming here, or else I would’ve been better prepared.”

  “And bought drawing skills on Craigslist?”

  “No,” I say, rolling my eyes like the answer is obvious. “I would’ve bought an expert painting and claimed it as my own.”

  He bursts out laughing, then continues painting as Alice instructs the room to experiment with more color and the story each mixture can tell. Ty doesn’t seem fazed. He continues painting my face, bringing it to life with each stroke.

  His talent is breathtaking.

  He’s very good, and I wonder why I never knew this side of him.

  “Why are you in this class?” I finally ask him one of my burning questions, half expecting him not to answer, so when he does, I raise my eyebrows in surprise.

  “My sister used to take this class and volunteer with Mrs. Hannigan. She was really into art and even moved to New York to pursue it.” He pauses with his brush in the air, a distant look in his eyes.

  There’s the past tense again.

  I wait for him to go on, but he doesn’t say anything else.

  He stares at his palette, and I lean back so I don’t disturb him.

  After a few moments, he abruptly resumes painting like nothing happened.

  I feel Alice’s eyes on me for the rest of class. Ty continues being quiet, only breaking his silence to make a joke about the lemons I try to add to my tree. When he laughs, it’s not boisterous and carefree. It’s barely there at all, like he’s trying to hold himself together.

  Nothing changes as we clean up our stations and head back to his apartment.

  Thinking the sudden dark tension is in my head, I simply hold his hand during the drive. I grip it tightly like he gripped mine on the way here.

  Knowing Ty better, seeing him in a different light, has my heart soaring and breaking at the same time.

  There’s some excitement in the naïve part of my brain because he did let me in. He gave me a glimpse of who he is offstage and out of the bedroom.

  I saw a new side of him that adds another piece to the puzzle that is him, another piece for me to make sense of this man.

  Once we’re out of the car, I kiss him fiercely like I’m trying to kiss the sudden darkness away. Like I know what’s causing it to begin with.

  He fumbles to unlock the door to his apartment, my fingers itching to touch him everywhere. Once it cracks open, I push him inside, his hands on my waist, pulling me close to him. Kicking the door shut, he pushes me against it, kissing down my neck while his hand caresses my cheek.

  A toilet flushing stops us.

  His body goes rigid, and my heart stops completely.

  “What the hell?” he whispers, then turns toward the sound.

  He walks forward, pushing me behind him to protect me.

  A woman pops out of one of the rooms, wiping her hands down her tight jeans. Her top is flowy and reveals too much cleavage for my taste. Her shoulder-length, brown hair is straight, complementing her chocolate skin.

  She’s beautiful.

  And she’s in his apartment.

  She let herself in, which means she has a key, when I didn’t even have his address until this morning.

  She jumps when she sees us. “Fuck. You scared me, Ty. I didn’t hear you come in.”

  Although she seems to recognize him, he doesn’t relax. His shoulders are still tense, and the joy from moments ago disappears.

  “What’re you doing here?” he asks.

  “I thought I’d come visit sooner and—wait, who is she?”

  I move around him to fully face this woman. “I’m Emma.”

  “Who?”

  “Naomi,” he calls her by name, saying it in a careful, delicate manner, but also like he’s physically hurting. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  Naomi.

  That name…

  The text he got all those months ago… the one he said was the wrong number.

  What the hell?

  Clearly, he knows her. And clearly, he hasn’t told her about me, even though we’ve been sleeping together for months.

  He doesn’t explain to her who I am.

  Suddenly, three’s a crowd, and the tension suffocates me. Ty’s tension is, anyway. She seems like she couldn’t be any more relaxed than if she walked out of a massage appointment.

  Like she’s familiar with his apartment.

  Like she’s part of his life.

  And when he asks me to wait a moment while he speaks to her outside,
away from me, his hand on the small of her back, my suspicions are confirmed.

  Closing the door, he shuts me out, leaving what little progress we made today behind him too.

  CHAPTER 41

  Ty

  Gripping Naomi by her arm, I close the door behind me with a resounding click, while Emma waits on the other side for an explanation that I’m not sure how to give.

  Naomi and I have a history.

  We share a pain in my sister’s death that’s not easily understood.

  “It’s almost time, you know? Thirteen years. Thirteen years, and sometimes it still feels like thirteen days.” She rummages through her purse, pacing the sidewalk downstairs from my apartment.

  She offers me a cigarette, but I decline, scratching my head, trying to reconcile both my worlds, one standing in front of me while the other remains in oblivion upstairs.

  “Our messages are short lately, so I thought I’d come check on you,” she says, while I get lost in my thoughts of summer vacations to Hawaii with the whole family before the traditions stopped.

  Naomi brings it all back.

  My family and I used to be whole, sharing laughs over family dinners and fighting over leis.

  She was there the last time we went. The last time we all were together.

  “You never bring girls to your apartment,” she says, jolting me out of my thoughts. She watches me curiously, angrily, her shoulders high with what seems like betrayal.

  I take a step toward her. “She’s not just any girl.”

  “Like me?”

  “We knew this would happen, eventually. You and I… we were never going to work.”

  She peers at me with her dark eyes, black eye makeup lining them. Taking a long drag from her cigarette, one arm crossed over her chest, she says, “We never gave us a chance.”

  “Because a foundation of heartache and loss isn’t one for a bright future. The only bond we have is my sister.”

  “And that’s not enough? We’re good together because I understand you and your pain and why you drink. Does she?” She points her cigarette toward the stairs, ashes falling on the ground around us.