by A. K. Evans
She had a point.
If nothing else, Cash had proven to be persistent. But even if that’s what he was being right now, I didn’t know if I could trust that it was genuine. To me, he could have just been very determined to win this game. And if that were the case, I stood to lose a whole lot more than he did.
“Maybe it should,” I reasoned. “But I don’t think I can risk this. I’m so confused, Sam.”
“You’re confused because you want this,” she insisted. “I don’t think there’d be any harm in giving him your number.”
“He’s going to be leaving,” I pointed out.
Sam didn’t hesitate to respond, “Exactly. That’s all the more reason to give it to him. Maybe you can try something different for once. Perhaps it would be good for you to get to know him better. Honestly, it’s a way better idea than what you had planned.”
“What did I have planned?” I asked, unsure of what she was referring to. When it came to Cash, I didn’t have any plans.
“You were considering fucking him out of your system,” she reminded me.
If only it were that simple.
“That was an empty threat. I never would have followed through with it.”
“Think about it, Demi,” Sam begged. “The phone number, that is. I really think you should consider it seriously.”
I went on to tell Sam about what happened last night both before and after My Violent Heart’s performance. I don’t know why, but I was hoping that once she heard about everything that went down between Cash and me, she’d have different advice.
But this was Sam.
The same Sam who apparently decided to tell Cash where he could find me.
So, I shouldn’t have been surprised when she urged, “Give him your number, and get to know him better. The worst possible thing that could happen is that you realize you’re not romantically compatible. But if you don’t give it to him, the worst possible thing that can happen is that you spend the rest of your life wondering if you made a huge mistake. Avoid making that mistake, Demi. You’ll never forgive yourself. Trust me.”
She paused a moment to let that sink in. When she’d given it enough time, she continued, “You’ve never experienced this much emotional turmoil over a guy. That should tell you something.”
There was that, too.
Maybe I was creating more stress and worry by sticking to my guns.
“Maybe you’re right,” I murmured.
“I am.”
That was that. There was nothing left to discuss regarding Cash, so I decided to switch topics.
“I can’t believe Mitch showed his face at Granite last night,” I told her.
“Tell me about it,” she groaned.
Just like that, Sam and I had moved on from our discussion of Cash. If there was one thing we both saw eye to eye on, it was how much we despised Mitch.
Quite frankly, I was grateful for the distraction.
By the time I ended my call with Sam, I couldn’t say I had everything figured out, but my headache had gone away, so I called it a win.
And in the end, I realized that perhaps I was stressing over something I didn’t need to stress about. Maybe I’d never see Cash in the flesh again.
Eight
Cash
“Any luck?”
I looked up from the bacon cheeseburger and fries on the plate in front of me and brought my attention to Walker.
I was sitting with him and Killian in a diner in New Hampshire. It was late Sunday night, well after dinner, and the three of us decided we needed to get out for a bit.
We’d all gotten back to the hotel late last night, and slept in this morning. Everyone had kind of done their own thing throughout the day, though I’d talked a bit with some of them.
At the question Walker asked, it was no surprise I didn’t need any additional explanation as to what he was referring to.
He was asking me about the progress I’d made with Demi. Or, maybe it was the lack of progress with her.
This was proving to be a painstakingly slow process.
I sighed and answered, “Not as much as I’d like it to be, but there’s been some progress.”
“How so?” he asked as he lifted his fork to his mouth. He’d settled on a veggie omelet with a side of hash browns for his meal.
“Well, she didn’t seemed repulsed by the sight of me all night last night,” I shared after taking a sip of my milkshake. “We even had a civil conversation or two.”
I plucked a fry off my plate, dipped it into some ketchup, and popped it into my mouth as I thought back to the good moments I had with Demi last night. It was nice, for once, to not feel so much animosity between us. It was even better to feel her body against mine, even if it had only been brief because I was trying to stop her from falling.
“You only have a few days left,” Walker reminded me. “Are you planning to do something to speed up the progress?”
Nodding, I confirmed, “I’m going to go back to Granite tomorrow.”
“And you think that’s going to work?” he questioned me, his eyes wide. “Do you really think she’s going to like having you just show up there? Didn’t you say that this was going to be her first day working at a new job? How well do you think that’s going to go over?”
I could understand his shock. I probably would have reacted the same if I saw him or any of my bandmates in a similar situation. The thing was, I hadn’t let them in on my plan just yet. Unfortunately, this was where I was going to need to get their help again, and I only hoped I could get them to agree once more.
“Well…” I trailed off, wondering how to best approach the subject. I wasn’t sure there was a right or wrong way to share it, but I figured I’d go with nostalgia. It’d be my best chance at making this sound appealing. “So, I was thinking about how everything went down last night. I feel like we’ve become so accustomed to playing sold-out shows at massive venues or huge arenas. Granite was a completely different vibe for us.”
“I’m with you on that,” Killian chimed in, after taking a sip of his drink before returning to his California chicken club sandwich. “It was awesome having that intimate setting again. It kind of reminded me of the old days before we got so big.”
Yep. Nostalgia was definitely the way to go.
Walker and I both nodded our agreement. There was no doubt about it. Last night had been great for all of us. Throughout the day today, I’d talked to Beck, Roscoe, and Holland. They had all felt the same.
“Alright, so how does any of that pertain to you getting on Demi’s good side?” Walker asked, cutting to the chase. It wasn’t unlike him to find a way to get us back on track. He did the same when it came to making new music, too.
I had just sunk my teeth into my burger. But after I had chewed, swallowed, and taken another sip of my milkshake, I answered, “It doesn’t have anything to do with me getting on her good side. I’m just going to use it as my excuse to visit her at work tomorrow.”
“You’re going to offer to have the band play at Granite again, aren’t you?” Killian asked, lifting a triangle of his sandwich in his hand for another bite.
Sitting up straighter, leaning against the back of the booth, I said, “That was my hope. I know I need to talk to everyone else, but what do you guys think? Would you be up for another performance here in New Hampshire after we finish the tour?”
“I’m down,” Walker immediately responded.
I had a feeling he would be an easy sell. He was laid back and rarely turned down an opportunity to play.
My eyes shifted to Killian. “I’m down, but don’t you think it’s a bit much?” he asked.
“What do you mean?” I retorted. “One more show is not going to send us over the edge.”
Killian shook his head. “That’s not what I meant,” he said.
“Then what are you talking about?” I questioned him.
He shrugged as he sat back. “I don’t know. I just don’t see what the outcome is go
ing to be here,” he started. “I mean, don’t you think you’ve gotten in way over your head with this whole situation? Is this woman really worth all this hassle?”
I had to tamp down the immediate and overwhelming anger I felt at Killian’s questions.
On the one hand, I wanted to knock him out for indicating that Demi wasn’t worth this, but on the other hand, I had to wonder if he had a point. I didn’t know Demi all that well just yet to make any determination about her being worth it, but I knew I couldn’t deny the way she made me feel.
“I think so,” I answered him honestly.
What else could I say? There was no guarantee about her; however, I liked to think that the intense attraction and inability to think about anyone else but her meant she was worth the effort I was prepared to put in to get her.
“It seems to me that it’d just be better to move on to the next woman,” he reasoned. “At least if you did that, you could hook up with someone who is actually interested in you.”
That’s where he was wrong, and I felt compelled to set the record straight.
“The biggest problem with that is that I’m not interested in anyone but her right now,” I began. “The other thing is, Demi is interested.”
That was a fact. I could tell by the way she looked at me. There was no way she, or anyone else, could deny the attraction we both had to one another. Maybe she liked to pretend she wasn’t interested, or maybe she liked playing hard to get. I didn’t know. But I knew what her eyes told me, what the changes in her voice revealed when she spoke to me, and how her body melted briefly against mine last night.
“It’s interesting you say that, Cash, because from what we’ve all seen or heard, Demi hates your guts,” Killian declared.
I let out a laugh. It would have certainly seemed that way on the surface considering Demi had no issue going toe to toe with me. That was the other thing. The woman made me laugh. If that wasn’t another reason for me to believe she was worth the effort I was putting in, I didn’t know what would be.
“Demi just hates who she thinks I am,” I insisted, brushing off his assessment of the situation.
I watched as confusion washed over not only Killian’s face but Walker’s as well.
When they said nothing in response, I set down my burger and explained, “She doesn’t know me well enough to make that determination. She only knows what she has seen from interviews I’ve done or reports online. None of that means anything. Until she’s talked to me and gotten a chance to know me, she can’t possibly hate me.”
Having finished his sandwich, Killian threw his hands up in the air in surrender and declared, “Look, I’m not going to tell you what to do. You do what you want and what you think is best. But if you want my advice, I just think you’re wasting your time. If it were me, I’d walk away. Life’s too short to fight for someone who really isn’t showing much interest and continues to turn you down.”
That was about what I expected from Killian. He preferred not to deal with bullshit. I’d known that about him from the time we used to practice in my parents’ garage when we were all kids. He’d proven it to Walker when he’d walked up one summer day and told us we needed a drummer. That was just who Killian was, so anything that felt like a waste of time to him wasn’t something he’d give a second thought to.
“I disagree,” Walker chimed in. “If you really do feel strongly for Demi and believe she’s worth it, I don’t think you should give up. And if us coming back here and playing another show at Granite helps make that happen for you, you can count on me.”
I should have anticipated that response from Walker, too.
It was almost a good thing I’d come out with Killian and Walker. They were so vastly different when it came to a situation like this. Then again, none of us had ever really been in a situation like this before, so I couldn’t say for sure. But the truth was that we’d been around each other enough over the years we’d been in this band. We know how everyone in the group worked.
When it came to women and sex, Killian rarely turned down a willing participant. He was living the life. For the most part, I’d been the same until I met Demi.
Walker wasn’t like us in that sense. In fact, while he joined us for a night out and partied with us whenever something was happening, he didn’t hop from one woman to the next. Come to think of it, I couldn’t recall ever seeing him with a woman. Not in a serious relationship and not even making out in a bar.
Then again, thinking about everyone else in the band, the same could have been said about Holland. She and Walker always seemed to be all about the music. They enjoyed a night out just as much as the rest of us, but they never let it get out of hand.
Don’t get me wrong. They adored our fans and appreciated them as we all did. It was just that they showed that appreciation in the form of words of thanks, autographs, and pictures. They didn’t ever cross that line with the fans. When it really came down to it, Holland and Walker were focused on their careers.
Or, so it seemed.
Now that it was hitting me, I realized I hadn’t ever considered that whole scenario before. Unfortunately, I wasn’t going to sit around pondering what it all meant right now either. I had my own shit to worry about.
“Well, I appreciate the support from both of you,” I started. Then I directed my attention to Killian and continued, “Even if you don’t agree. Now, I just have to hope I can talk the rest of the crew into coming back here for a third time.”
“They will,” Walker insisted. “At least, I know Holland is rooting for you. That’s why she orchestrated the whole T-shirt deal. And even though he won’t admit to it, Beck would probably love to come back and see how that single mom is doing, assuming he can find her. Roscoe is the only one who is really going to need some convincing, and the truth is, if you just make sure there’s a good time waiting for him, he’s not going to say no.”
I couldn’t stop myself from grinning. Everything Walker had just said was the truth. Holland was supportive from the beginning, and Beck was still caught up in Chasey—even though he denied it. Roscoe just wanted to have fun; he didn’t care where it happened.
“You’re right,” I replied, feeling a bit of relief. “Now all I need to do is go in there tomorrow and see if I can get us on their schedule. I know we’ve got people who handle that for us, but I think I’m going to take the reins on this one since I’ve already got an in with the girl in charge.”
Killian scoffed, “I don’t know if I’d say you’ve got an in with her, but I don’t think anyone is going to fight you on taking the lead here either.”
“Oh, I’ve got an in,” I announced. “Give me some time, and it’s going to be a whole lot more than that.”
Killian rolled his eyes at me. Walker shot me a look of approval.
With that, the conversation surrounding Demi shifted into talk about the rest of our tour as we finished up our food. We had fifteen more weeks of shows, and it was a pretty tight schedule. I wouldn’t have the opportunity to come back here until it was over. That meant I had to make sure I got Demi’s number.
I didn’t think I’d be able to manage not seeing her or hearing her voice for that long.
The guys and I finished up, paid our bill, and made our way back to the hotel.
When I got into bed that night, I couldn’t stop my thoughts from drifting to Demi, which was where they’d been for days.
I needed her to soften just a touch more. If I could manage that, I could get her number. And if I got that, there might be some hope for something more than just banter between us.
As much as I loved her sassy mouth and witty remarks, I wanted more. I wanted to keep that and get more of the sweetness I’d gotten from her after our show at Granite.
After I realized she had that soft side to her, it became clear that she was the whole package. So, even though I knew it wasn’t going to be easy, I believed it was going to be worth it.
I might not have gotten lucky enough to
convince her to give me a shot. It might take some time, but I had to keep trying.
The promise of all that she was… I would have been a fool to give up now.
Nine
Demi
A knock came at the door.
I looked up from the computer in front of me and saw Cal standing in the doorway. I was in the back office at Granite, and today was my first official day at my new job.
I was excited to be here and thrilled to finally be out of my old job.
It was late afternoon, and I’d already put in quite a few hours of work today. I had quickly learned that a lot of what I needed to do for this position did not require me to be here in the physical sense. Obviously, whenever a live performance was scheduled, I’d be here at Granite in the thick of it, but the brunt of the work I was doing could have been done from home.
Cal wouldn’t care, and I’d eventually talk to him about making that change. But for now, I was simply grateful to be anywhere that wasn’t the hotel.
“This is your bar, Cal,” I greeted my cousin. “You don’t need to knock to enter rooms in your own building.”
“I’m being professional,” he told me.
“Yeah, yeah,” I returned. “So, what’s going on?”
“Well, we just had someone walk in looking to play here, so I wanted to make sure you were free to meet now,” he explained.
Wow.
This was fantastic news.
The truth was, when My Violent Heart played here on Saturday, it put Granite on the map. People from other bands or solo artists wanted to come and play here as well. We weren’t some huge arena, and the fact that such a huge name in the music industry had played here meant that others wanted to as well. And it blew my mind that we were already seeing this response.
