Samantha Cocker (Cocker Brothers Book 21)
Page 5
Like a man on a mission, he bursts out the side door. What’s on his mind? What has him that distracted that he can’t even hear me shouting for him to stop.
The door shuts in my face.
I push it open, and explode into the alley to find Logan surrounded by people clamoring for his autograph. As they spot me, they hold up their papers, hoping to capture even more posterity.
Why isn’t he excited about this? Why isn’t he grateful? There’s a frown pressing between his eyebrows as he throws a wary look to me.
Graciously autographing as many notes as will have me, I’m standing by his side and thinking to myself how often we talked about this. I keep throwing glances to him, his reaction curious to me.
He’s in his own world.
I spotted his parents in the audience, but his big sister wasn’t here. Maybe that’s on his mind. They don’t get along. She’s very judgmental, so he often doesn’t invite her anymore. Rather than point out what he does well, she’ll make note of mistakes perceived often only by her. High standards are one thing, criticism designed to tear someone down, another. Even if the motives are clean.
“The program said Marion—”
Another stranger, a bespeckled man cuts her off, “Yes, there was a slip saying you’d be taking over the role of Izzy.”
Logan explains for me, “She broke her leg during dress rehearsal.”
The woman gasps, “Oh no. Is she okay?”
“She was pretty devastated. We all were.”
A man in the back of the crowd snorts, “I bet you weren’t,” his cynical eyes on me.
Stunned, I open my mouth but Logan beats me to it.
“If you’re insinuating that Samantha wanted Marion hurt, then you don’t know Samantha.” He pushes a pen and paper into a fan’s hands, puts his arm around me and guides me back to the door we came out of. Under his breath, he asks, “You okay?”
I wait until we’re inside, the door securely shut, to look up at him. “Why are you so upset? Is that why? Did somebody say that to you already?”
Logan’s normally clear blue eyes are haunted. I’ve never seen him snap at someone like that before. He’s a dancer, an artist, so of course he has his moods. But this look is something I have never witnessed. I really want to get to the bottom of it. See if I can help.
He wants to say something, but decides against it as his eyelashes drop toward the ground. “I’m just protective of you. What that guy said was rude. Really fucking insulting. It doesn’t just put down your abilities, it insinuated you’re a bad human being. He doesn’t know shit.” Logan rakes his hair back and frowns at me. “I wanted to punch him.”
Touching his chest to calm him down I say in earnest, “It doesn’t matter what people think! I’m not worried about that. I know who I am. Let them say what they want! I’d never want her hurt. That’s just ridiculous. But what’s wrong with you?”
Logan shakes his head, the haunted look still there. “How’s she doing?”
Folding my arms I remember our brief phone call. Logan knows I have her number. It doesn’t surprise me that he assumes I checked up before coming here. “She’s depressed. I asked her how it happened. Did you see it?”
“I looked over just after her fall.” His gaze lingers on my mouth as he adds, “Bad stuff happens sometimes. And you never see it coming. You’ve just gotta deal with it when it does.”
Wiping my mouth I ask, “Do I have something on my lips?”
“You did.”
“It’s gone now?”
“For the moment,” he frowns.
Confused, I make a face at him and hear someone shout my name. Down the hall, the cast is bundled up in coats and backpacks ready to turn The Vortex upside down. “You coming?”
I tug at Logan’s arm. “Come out with us. Why were you going home so early? This is our first night. Can you feel it, Logan? This musical is going to be a big deal. We have to celebrate. We can’t miss these moments.”
One of the singers hollers through her hands, “Logan! Don’t be a deadbeat. Your bed can wait. It’s empty anyhow!”
Lots of laughter at that one. I roll my eyes and call out to the cast as an idea springs up, “Guy’s, let’s skip burgers! Let’s have pizzas delivered to Marion’s hospital room!”
Everyone breaks out cheering. Even Logan lightens up, looking more like his old self as he nods and silently tells us all that he is in for that plan.
Asher walks out of his dressing room, looks our way. “I heard that. That’s a fantastic idea. Sam, ride with me?”
“Sure,” I grin, jogging over to take his outstretched hand. “Hurry up, Logan, we’re all starved!”
Chapter Thirteen
LOGAN
“Sorry, Donovan,” Lexi tells Asher as she walks through the mass of people toward us with Zoe barely visible in the throng. “I can call you Donovan, can’t I?” She pats his chest as she passes him. “Sam’s riding with us.”
Unamused, he asks, “And you are?”
“I’m her sister, can’t you tell?” Her smile is so saucy that Sam starts laughing.
They look nothing alike. Samantha inherited her Dad’s blonde hair, slender frame and height, but her mom’s brown eyes. Lexi looks like their mother, also a redhead, but got Jason’s green eyes.
Multiply her wild nature against Sam’s calm and it does not equal related.
“Logan did you drive?”
“I got dropped off.”
“Great, you’re coming with us!” she shouts, as if this is her night, her cast, “Alright guys, let’s do this. Zoe, hurry up. We don’t have forever.”
Their ethereal cousin pushes her way to freedom, flashing a quick and curious glance to Asher.
He’s suddenly unsure what to do—follow us out this exit or choose another one.
The rest of the cast heads toward the front entrance, probably because they want to see the marquee. The older actors who played our parents have already gone home to real-life families. They didn’t think hanging out at a loud rock ’n’ roll restaurant like The Vortex sounded like a sweet idea.
I open the side door for the Cocker girls, but my eyes are on Asher as he makes his decision. He’s staring at me like we’re Wild West shooters challenging the other to draw last.
A smirk tugs at his mouth before he turns left and joins the others to exit out the front. I would’ve been surprised if he had come this way. Could’ve made him appear a straggler, unwanted, uninvited. He likes looking good. He basked in the applause at the end of the show. Sponged that up.
I’m walking a few steps behind, thinking about the night, while Samantha hears what Lexi and Zoe thought of her performance.
When I was a kid and finally gave up the idea that sports was cooler, I committed to dancing. My parents were so excited they took me to every single show The Alliance Theater produced.
The dream to be famous was born.
But not to sign autographs.
Or swim in praise.
That’s not what thrills me.
See, fame makes more people come to the show. End of story.
I want to move people.
The more the better.
I remember sitting in the audience watching dancers who were incredible. Their talent made me feel more alive just watching it. I wasn’t alone.
There’s a reason why people pay for a ticket. Watching true talent, great art, in any form, elevates our souls.
You could be anyone, anywhere, and you see something that strikes a chord and inspires you, that single moment is transformative. You never know how it’s going to impact a life.
Lifting someone out of their lives into a heightened state of being where they feel something, that’s enough.
The more people I’m able to move, impact, inspire…that’s what fame is to me.
But Asher? Don’t think he cares about that. I’m still learning about this guy, but I get the feeling he’s in this for him.
As we pile into the Subaru, Lex
i asks Sam, “Okay, now that we’ve gushed about your show, who's the stud?”
From the passenger seat Samantha gives a smile that carries zero awareness of how much she hurt me tonight. To her I’m the brother. Part of this family. Damn, is that bittersweet.
“He’s the one I was telling you about, from New York! What do you think about him? Do you think we looked good together?”
Zoe gushes, “I thought you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen!” her sweet voice lilting and awestruck, “You were pale peach roses and tulips swaying in the breeze on a bright summer day.”
Lexi throws back a look. “You have to be so sappy? That was the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard you say.”
Zoe isn’t fazed. “You guys look beautiful together. You really did! I was just speechless. Crying! Nathan and Wyatt kept making fun of me. And neither of them had a tissue. I’m so proud of you, Sam.”
As tiny knives prick my skin all over I shift in my seat and mutter, “We can’t tell.”
Samantha reaches back and clasps Zoe’s legs, pleased with the praise. “Oh no, I should have brought some of my flowers to give to Marion!”
Lexi turns left on a red light since there aren’t any cars. “I bet she has a ton in her hospital room, Sam. You can always buy her some tomorrow. The ones that were given to you were meant for you. I don’t think she’d want hand me downs, right? She feels bad enough as it is.”
The car is quiet for a second.
Lexi glances around, realizing this is a touchy subject for such blunt honesty. “She’s going to be super happy we’re showing up.”
They talk about their family for a while, I let my eyes glaze over as I stare out the window at our quieting city. I’ve never lived anywhere else. Here I was hoping New York would be my future. I assumed Sam would be there, too, now that I’m thinking about it. But if she’s dating him, how will I feel? I won’t remain here while they rise up, either. No way.
I need to tell her how I feel.
As the car turns into the parking lot, Zoe sighs, “I know if I was lying in a hospital room while a play that I was meant to star in, was going on, I’d be crying my eyes out. Feel completely forgotten.”
Under my breath I say, “It was a really great idea, Sam.”
She turns around in her chair to peek into the backseat, locking eyes with me. My heart stops as she stares a beat before saying, “Just didn’t feel right going to the restaurant like she never existed.”
Lexi slaps the steering wheel and snorts. “Okay, let’s just get one thing straight. I was dancing with you guys when I was a kid too. I am very familiar with Marion and her selfish ego. She used to tattle on Sam and me any chance she got. I swear to God, I never got away with a single thing when we were in classes together. That little pipsqueak was watching in the shadows, stalking us, waiting for us to do something we weren’t supposed to be doing. Which was all the time, if I had my way. You know dance classes bored the shit out of me.”
“I remember.”
Waving her arm, Lexi announces, “Logan backs me up.”
“I was talking about you being bored, not about how Marion acted.”
She glances back to me, demanding, “Are you saying I’m wrong?”
With a smirk I tell her, “Wouldn’t dare.”
“Smart man.”
The car glides into a parking spot while Samantha explains, “I think she was feeling left out back then. You and I are like this.” She crosses her fingers, knuckles white. “And then we made friends with Logan. The three of us were like the Three Musketeers. Before Zoe. Now, I guess we’re four.”
“Thank you!”
Sam throws a smile back at her cousin, before continuing, “Marion found other ways to get attention.”
Zoe whispers, “That’s why outsiders are mean to our family. They wish they were a part of the circle.”
I can’t argue with that logic. I’m one of the few ever invited to their infamous BBQs. There are so many cousins that they were born with friends. And their dads, six brothers who’d take a bullet for each other, married women who get along. Why outsource love when you’ve got so much? There are some friends, but not a need for many.
I remember Hannah letting it slip once that snakes wear masks. But with their family, you never needed to worry because nobody wears one.
We jump out, shutting our doors off beat. Lexi tosses her key fob in the air, catching it and she replies to Zoe’s comment, “Well, if they weren’t such assholes, we would let them in. Duh.”
Zoe jogs up to walk beside her.
Samantha matches my pace. “Why were you going home early tonight?”
“Just tired.”
“I thought you were fantastic.”
I cut a glance to see her expression, and find it open and filled with sisterly love.
Dammit.
“Thanks Sam.” I run distracted fingers through my hair, wondering how I’m going to deal with this whole Asher situation. “How was that kiss, huh?”
She smiles on a shrug, “It took me by surprise.”
“A good surprise?”
“Yeah.”
That smile on her face! It tears me up.
I should be making her smile like that.
You can’t make someone love you.
And there is no way she would be telling me this if she did love me like I want her to.
But I love her so much I can’t be near her without wanting to gather her closer.
How do you go from friends to lovers?
Chapter Fourteen
SAMANTHA
P uffy eyes brighten as the hospital room fills with friends. Marion is so genuinely shocked, it’s obvious she never expected anyone to do something like this for her.
But you’ve gotta rise above when it’s the right thing to do. Sure, she belittles me every chance she has. Marion feels important by making others feel small. But I don’t think it’s a chronic condition. Pretty sure it’s something that can be healed with a little love.
And some hard boundaries.
It’s partly my fault it’s gone on for this long. I just ignored it, so how could she know how intensely her constant digs annoyed me? Or see how much other people knew what she was doing and therefore developed a dislike of her in general.
Her eyes fill with fresh tears as she gasps, “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe you guys are here!”
A couple of the singers take credit for it, but my sister isn’t having any of that.
“It was Samantha’s idea,” she interjects with enough volume to make it clear she means business.
Marion locks eyes with me, face a mess from crying. “This was your idea?”
I nod, a lump forming in my throat.
“Thank you!” she whispers and covers her face as her shoulders shake.
Some of the guys start shouting, “What kind of pizza are we having?” “I’m starving!” “Me too!” Toppings fly out on a wave of enthusiastic suggestions.
Asher strolls into the room, and we lock eyes. I give him a smile. He goes to Marion to ask how she feels. Lexi chooses now to tug me toward the door, demanding this instant, a private conversation.
It’s gotta be hard working in a hospital the way our brother, Caden, does. It feels like they’re always this busy. And so much pain. I wouldn’t be able to handle it. I’m not that tough.
Lexi’s bright green eyes zip over serious faces of nurses and doctors heading in different, urgent directions. “I could never be a doctor.”
“I was just thinking the same thing.”
“The hours are too long.”
I laugh, “You mean the ones in college?”
“And there’s that.”
“I don’t think it feels like long hours when you love what you do.”
She shrugs off the persistent fact that she hasn’t found her purpose yet, “I wouldn’t know,” and leans to me while darting a quick look around. “So this guy Asher.”
Double checking we aren�
�t being spied on, I whisper, “He kissed me tonight.”
“I know, I watched the performance!”
“Before the show.”
Lexi grabs my arm. She knows it’s been forever since I’ve dated anyone I liked. “How was it?”
“Good. But Dad and Mom interrupted before I got a chance to really find out. Logan was with them. You should’ve seen his face. He felt so bad they caught me.”
Her eyes widen. “Logan saw you kissing him? How did he take it?”
I frown, “How did he take it?”
Lexi jumps out of the way of a racing gurney. “You being kissed by some other dude. I know you are just friends.”
“Don’t do air quotes when you say that, Lexi, we are just friends.” She tilts her head like I’m being naive, so I insist, “He’s a brother to me. You know that, come on! It’s like we have four brothers, not three!”
“Maybe when we were kids, Sam. I don't know if you noticed, but he is not a kid anymore. You want to talk about gorgeous, look no further.”
“Gross.”
She stares at me and shakes her head, turning on her heel for Marion’s hospital room. “I need pizza.”
I follow her, annoyed she’s joined the Mom-and-Dad-train suggesting Logan would be a great boyfriend for me.
I can’t even imagine us kissing.
I’ve known him my whole life.
Every awkward phase.
He’s seen.
I’ve seen.
Kissing is out of the question.
We would crack up!
Gag.
Promise never to do it again.
Asher turns around as I walk in. He puts his hands on my waist and backs me up until, hello again, hallway!
Glancing over his shoulder to make sure Marion’s hospital door has firmly closed, he pulls me further up the corridor and says, “Finally.”
He’s so handsome, my insides go squishy when he looks at me. Feeling heat rise everywhere, I smile, “Finally what?”
His volume is intimate as his warm fingers go down my arm. “I finally get to tell you that you did an amazing job tonight. From the first rehearsal, I saw it. You move like you were meant to be there. And now you are.” His eyelashes drop to my lips. “How did it feel?”