I had to try.
So I manned up and I called her, desperate to do that any way I could.
“Cary?” she said softly when she answered.
“Yeah. It’s me.”
There was silence on the other end of the line. Then… she started crying.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m emotional. It’s been a rough week.”
Fuck me… What was I doing? Was I making this worse?
“I didn’t mean to upset you. Shit, I’m sorry. I just wanted to say happy birthday. For this weekend.”
“Oh.” She sniffled. “Thank you.”
Yeah, I knew her birthday was coming up in a few days. Just made it extra fucking terrible of me to leave her hanging right now.
Or call her up out of the blue and fuck with her head. Happy fucking birthday.
But I wasn’t trying to fuck with her. I was trying to fix this.
“Look, I know you must have plans this weekend,” I said, forcing the words out with whatever balls I had left. “But… if there’s any chance you have some time on Saturday or Sunday… I’ve decided to do an interview. My first one in years. And I wondered if there’s any chance you would consider going with me.”
There was a long, silent pause. “What time is the interview?”
I exhaled, realizing I’d been holding my breath. She was actually considering this?
“Whatever time you want. Courteney is interviewing me for her book. She’s writing a book about Gabe.”
“I heard.”
“She said anytime is fine.” I took a deep breath. “Honestly, I’m not even one-hundred-percent sure I won’t bail.”
“Why?” she said softly. “Why would you bail?”
“Because I’m fucking scared,” I admitted.
“You can do it, Cary. I know you can.”
“Maybe…” I dug deep, again, for the sheer balls it took to ask this of her. “If you were there, I could. I know I don’t have a right to ask you for anything. But this just isn’t the type of thing I’ve ever been able to do alone.” I took another deep breath, prepared to beg if I had to.
I just wanted to see her. I wanted to make it right. And this interview would be a chance to tell her all the things I just didn’t know how to say to her.
Tell her the truth. Whatever the truth is.
Jesus. Never would’ve thought I’d be taking relationship advice from Xander Rush.
“Would you please consider going with me? I know I don’t deserve it, but it would really help Courteney. She wrote an amazing book. I want to do it for her.”
Taylor was silent again for a long, long moment.
Then she said, “Just tell me when and where, Cary. I’ll be there.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Taylor
Live Wire
“Shhhh!” Danica hissed somewhere behind me. I knew it was her, because even when she hissed at people to shut the fuck up, she did it politely.
“Xan, quit breathing so loud,” Courteney whispered.
“Yeah, I’ll try not to breathe so it doesn’t bother anyone,” he whispered back.
“Shut the fuck up. You’re all too loud,” Matt whispered, accompanied by the sound of guzzling beer.
That was followed by the flick of a lighter sparking a joint. The smell of fresh, burning weed mingled with the crisp, November night air as I felt my way along the fence in the dark. A branch snapped and someone grumbled a nasty word. I heard shoving and a small squeal.
I tried to quicken my pace. Maybe I could lose them all in the dark.
“Quit stepping on my toes,” Courteney whispered.
“Who’s hand is that?” Xander whispered.
“You wish,” Ash muttered.
“Everyone be quiet, okay?” Danica whispered. “You’re making too much—”
Someone belched. Fucking loudly.
I turned on them and they all stopped. Danica, Courteney, and four rock stars, all of them wasted, creeping along in the shadows behind me like a bunch of rejects from ninja school.
“Who was that?” I demanded.
They all pointed at Dean. Cary’s former lead singer smiled his lazy, drunken smile at me.
“You seriously all didn’t have to come with me,” I informed them in a whisper. We’d been drinking at the bar tonight with a bunch of assorted people. Dean was in town and Xander thought we should all get drunk to celebrate. Beer circulated, shots were devoured, and the resultant, incredibly intense discussion between me, Danica and Courteney about Cary was unfortunately overheard by said drunk rock stars.
So now they ALL knew my business.
Advice—unsolicited—was doled out, support was offered, motivation was rallied, my praises were sang, and then for some reason when I decided to leave the bar, the six people hovering in the bushes with me right now decided to come with me.
We’d all piled into taxis, and while I’d hoped to lose at least some of them along the way, no such luck.
“Like we have anything better to do?” Xander whispered.
“Look, this is really more of a solo mission, you guys,” I said, just like I had back at the bar.
“But then who’s gonna boost you over the fence?” Ash whispered.
Good point.
I gazed up at the top of the fence. It had to be seven feet high.
Then I sized them up: four men, all in pretty great shape, minus the current level of intoxication. There had to be at least one of them capable of hoisting me up, drunk or not.
“We’re here for you,” Danica whispered soberly, though sober she was not. She placed a hand on my shoulder and gave me a firm squeeze.
“I’m touched,” I whispered back. “Now shut up.”
Matt put his finger to his lips and Ash made a zipper motion across his mouth with his joint.
“Is she always this hot?” Dean muttered to Xander, eying my nipple area through my puffer jacket.
“Yup.”
Courteney poked her fiancé. “Shush.”
I turned and proceeded through the trees along Cary’s fence, and they stumbled along behind me in the dark. We were in his neighbor’s yard, unbeknownst to his neighbors. Either that or they’d already called the police on our drunk asses.
Dean was our navigator on this mission, and I was starting to wonder if that was a piss poor idea. Though he had managed to get us onto the property—through the front gate that he happened to know was never actually locked—and into this dark stretch under the trees where we probably weren’t visible from either house.
“This is it,” he announced, and we all stopped.
“This is where you sneak over the fence?” Xander whispered.
“Yup.”
I looked up the high fence. “Okay. I think if you guys hoist me up I can do it.”
“It’s sturdy,” Dean informed me. “You’ve got a clearing on the other side. It’s about the only spot you won’t land in bushes or a tree.”
“Cool. Thanks.”
“Want me to come with you?” he offered, and I glanced over at him. Dean had been really kind, actually, when he found out Cary and I had an unfinished love story and I was intent on rewriting our tragic ending. Clearly, he cared about Cary.
“Really, no. I need to do this alone.” I looked at all their glassy eyes and rosy cheeks. “You guys are awesome, but I’m good. I’ve got this. I’m going full commando on this mission.”
“You’re not wearing underwear?” Xander said, and Courteney elbowed him in the stomach.
“Yeah. I’m climbing a fence in a dress with all of you underneath me and I’m not wearing panties.”
“Sweet,” Dean said, totally missing my sarcasm.
“I meant, I’m gonna strike fast and I’m not leaving until I achieve my objective.” I totally meant it. I’d really worked up my liquid courage at the bar. And trespassing on someone’s property, sneaking through the dark and scaling a fence was just fueling my hunger for victory.
“And wha
t is your objective, exactly?” Danica asked gently.
“I’m getting him to open his door and talk to me,” I said, with one-hundred-percent confidence.
They all just blinked at me like drunk owls in the dark.
“Well… I’m getting him to open his door,” I amended, maybe downgrading to fifty-percent confident. “After that… we’ll see.”
“Okay,” Danica whispered supportively. “You’ve got this, Tay.”
I took a deep, fortifying breath. “I feel like I need war paint.”
“Try the no-panties thing,” Dean whispered. “It’ll be fierce.”
“Maybe on the other side,” I said dryly.
He flashed me a thumbs up.
“Cmon, let’s do this,” Matt said, lacing his hands together and lowering them in front of me. “Up you go.” Xander hunkered down next to him, offering his back as a stepping stone.
I stepped into Matt’s hands, then put a knee on Xander’s back, then my other knee on Matt’s as he turned around.
“That’s my eye,” Xander groaned as I grabbed at his face, struggling to get my balance.
“Quit moving, Matt,” I whispered.
“Sorry.”
Danica grabbed Matt’s shoulders to hold him steady, though she probably wasn’t so steady herself. I grabbed the top of the fence with my gloved hands and started trying to hoist myself up.
Then a pair of strong hands landed on my butt cheeks and squeezed, lifting me up.
“That so better not be Dean…” I grumbled, although the move was effective. “Or Xander.”
“It’s me,” Ash said. “Sorry.” As he lifted me, I scrambled up; I was able to hike one leg over the top of the fence and hold on. He gave me a final shove and I was all the way up, kinda lying on the fence. I clung to the top of it like a koala.
I peered down at them all. “You know, scaling a fence is a lot harder than it was when I was like ten,” I panted. I wiggled awkwardly on my stomach until I could get both legs over to the far side. “Ouch. I shouldn’t have done this in a dress.”
“You okay?” Danica whispered.
“I’m good. Here goes.” I pushed off and let go, dropping down into Cary’s yard. My feet hit sooner than I thought they would in the dark, and I fell awkwardly on my ass, sprawling on my back. “Oof.”
I looked up to find Ash peering over the fence. “Taylor?”
“Yeah.” I groaned, pushing myself up. “I’m good.” I got to my feet, brushing myself off. Actually, I was kinda dirty and I’d scratched my leg, and if I wasn’t semi-drunk that fall might’ve hurt more than it did. I gave him a thumbs up. “I’m going in,” I whispered.
“Okay. Kick ass, woman.” Ash’s head disappeared.
“We love you, Taylor!” Danica whisper-shouted through the fence.
“Don’t take no for an answer!” Xander said.
“And don’t forget the balls!” Dean said.
“What?” Danica whispered.
“Dudes like their balls handled,” Dean said. “Women overlook that.”
“Christ, would you shut up?” Xander said.
“Letssgo!” Courteney hissed. “You’re all drunk.”
“We’re drunk?” Xander said. “You’re slurring, babe…”
Branches cracked and I heard them whispering to each other and laughing as they stumbled back through the trees. I wondered if they’d get lost in the neighbor’s yard and just end up flaking out on the patio, smoking up.
Fifty/fifty chance?
I sighed.
Then I looked up at Cary’s house. The light over the front door was on, but it was always on. The windows along the front of the house were all dark.
I went over to the control room window. The shades were drawn and the light seemed to be off.
So I went up to the front door and rang the bell like a maniac. Jab-jab-jab, jab-jab-jab. I could hear it ringing obnoxiously through the house.
When that didn’t work, I went around the house, knocking on every window I could reach. Loudly.
Then a terrible thought occurred to me.
What if he wasn’t even home?
And where the hell would he be if he wasn’t here?
And what if he’d gone to Bliss to fuck some rich lady who liked to be tied up and spanked and shit?
I mean, he could’ve tied me up and spanked me if that was what he was into.
Maybe I needed to tell him that?
Maybe I would. Once I finished giving him shit.
He’d called me up out of nowhere to ask me to come to this book interview with him—and that was grand. But seriously, were we leaving it at that? Were we not going to deal with us at all?
He’d left me hanging for months.
And then he called me up to invite me to escort him to an interview? To be his emotional support?
I could do that. I would do that.
But what about me and my emotions, and the total mess they’d been in ever since he booted me out the door?
Not cool, Cary Clarke. Not cool.
But hey, he was socially challenged. I knew that.
And that was why I was here right now. To school him on how a man should treat a woman. Because you don’t tell a woman you love her and then the next day tell her to get lost. And then call her up months later to ask her for something, without even addressing the royal hike you’d told her to take, like it never happened.
Which was basically what he’d done to me.
I knocked on each window again, all the way back around the house. Then Freddy appeared, wandering up the driveway and sitting down on his butt to watch me.
“Hey, Freddy.” I strode past him on my way to the front door. “What’s up?”
Freddy didn’t answer, because he was a cat.
I rounded the garage and stopped just short of climbing the front steps again. The front door was wide open, the lights on inside the foyer.
Cary was standing there, staring at me.
It was surreal. It felt just like the first time we’d ever laid eyes on each other. Except he wasn’t a stranger anymore.
He was… Cary.
“What’s going on?” he said, looking me over. “Are you okay?” And I realized I’d scared him.
“I’m fine,” I said. Then I marched up the steps and stood in front of him. “I came to give you shit.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh. And this is a long time coming, buddy, so I hope you’re ready for it because it’s gonna be bad. You’ve been very, very mean, and it’s not okay. And I have a thing or two to say about it, so…”
I trailed off. His warm, honey-colored eyes, like a melting sunset, were holding mine. And they looked so… warm. “So…?”
“So…” I drifted closer to him. “I… I came here to tell you, Cary Clarke…”
His gaze dropped to my lips. Oh, fuck.
“I… I’m gonna…”
I jumped on him. Like threw myself at him and latched on like a drunken koala, slamming my mouth to his. He caught me, a low, guttural groan in his throat as I plunged my tongue into his hot mouth. We made out like two starving alley cats fighting over a saucer of milk.
Then I wrenched myself away from him, panting.
“You… you promised me you’d talk to me when the album was done,” I accused, my voice shaking as my whole body quivered from that frantic mouth-to-mouth. “And it’s done, fucker.”
“Come inside.” He grabbed my wrist and tugged me through the door, but I resisted. A little.
When he kissed me again, I only kissed him back, but I didn’t moan or rub up on him. I shook with the effort of holding back as his hands slid up and down my back and his tongue swept against mine. He sucked on my bottom lip, left a trail of delicious kisses across my mouth, and a little moan slipped out.
“I’m mad at you.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” He pressed kisses all over my face, and I let him. “Why is your leg scratched like that?”
“Oh. Uh… I scaled
your fence.”
He looked at me, searching for signs of damage. “Are you really okay?”
“I’m fine. I’m a commando.”
“What?”
“Also… like a half dozen of your friends are out in your neighbor’s bushes, drunk.” I felt obligated to tell him, in case he gave a shit. “Do you want to invite them in?”
“No.”
“Good.” I kicked the door shut behind me and he pushed me up against it. His mouth molded to mine again, and I heard the thunk of the deadbolt sliding into place as he locked the door. “Take me upstairs,” I whispered between kisses. “To your bedroom.”
Cary pulled back and took a breath. He looked me in the eyes again, and all his pain and regret and relief was all over his beautiful face. The circles under his eyes spoke volumes. “I thought you were here to give me shit,” he said quietly. “You have every right to.”
“I know. But it’s different standing here… looking in your eyes.”
His expression softened, and I realized we were clinging to each other, his hands gripping my arms and mine gripping his. He felt it, too. We were holding onto each other like we’d been cast out to sea, together, clinging to our last life preserver.
“I’m so fucking sorry, Taylor,” he said, and my heart broke for him.
“I know.”
Then he took my hand and without another word, he led me upstairs to his bedroom. He switched on a lamp by the bed and turned to face me. We stood a few feet apart now, and neither of us made another move.
I looked carefully around.
“You know, I came up here, once,” I confessed. “Not long before you broke up with me. I wanted to see what was up here. I thought maybe I’d see something that explained to me who you were, or why you were the way you were.” I met his eyes again. “I didn’t find anything. It’s just a room.”
He didn’t say anything.
“It’s a nice room. Why don’t you use it?”
“I don’t know.” He took a breath and looked around. He shook his head a little. “There was a time… I could barely leave the studio downstairs. I guess I just got used to it. Even once I was venturing out more, into the yard, using the pool, telling myself I was okay… I never got back into the habit of coming up here or using the dining room, the living room. I just kept living in the studio.”
Lovely Madness: A Players Rockstar Romance (Players, Book 4) Page 39
