Ever Lonely (Ever James Band Book 1)

by Kimberly Lauren

  “Crazy. I know. You’ve told me many times,” he replied, sounding defeated. I despised that I was the one who made him sound that way. “You just broke up with the actor, anyway. I have no right asking anything like that… sorry.”

  I had to tell him even though I desperately didn't want to. My brain seemed to focus solely on Rhett when I was around him. But I owed him this. "I tried…I don’t know… I mean, I hope we did."

  He shot up and stared down at me. I pushed to sit upright as well. “You’re still with that idiot?! He walked in on us about two seconds away from fucking, Ever!”

  “I know! I did break up with him. He just didn’t… accept it.”

  “What the fuck?!" he roared. "Another man was kissing his girlfriend, and he didn't care? And what do you mean he didn’t accept it?"

  I deflated. I was still processing the situation myself. “I told him I couldn’t do this anymore. He said we would talk tonight. I even explained that my mind was made up, but he just said that his wasn’t and he walked out. Big important movie meetings and all that.” I waved my hands in the air, my annoyance with Noah needing an outlet. Evidently writing about the situation hadn’t resolved my feelings completely, and talking about it was only making me more and more frustrated with my supposed-to-be ex-boyfriend. I stood up and clenched my fists. "I don't know why I'm telling you all of this. Everyone hates Noah. I can't talk to anyone about him."

  I watched as Rhett sat up straighter and ran his hands through his hair. “I’m not going to sit here and pretend like I can give you advice about your boyfriend.” He said the last word as if it were dirty.

  “Ex-boyfriend,” I corrected.

  “He doesn’t seem to think so.” He lifted an eyebrow at me. “Anyway, I can tell you what he should have done. He should have walked in that bathroom and kicked my ass. I was prepared for him to throw a punch I damn well deserved. I was kissing his girlfriend—the person who is supposed to be more important than anyone else in the world to him. He should have thrown my ass out and then pleaded with you to tell him why you would even think about another man when you had him. He should have begged you to tell him how he could keep you in his life. Instead, he completely skirted your feelings and tried to bulldoze you into staying with him.”

  I scooped up the weight of my hair, twisted it into a bun on my head, and then let it fall back down. I guess I was picking up Rhett’s hair fidgeting tendencies when frustrated. “He was very callous, but I did call him out on it.” I felt I needed to defend myself a bit.

  “As you should have.” He nodded.

  “But, I cheated on him, Rhett…” I whispered. The guilt was still weighing me down.

  “Yeah, that was shitty of us.”

  I groaned. Rhett and I had made a mistake by letting our emotions get the better of us in a heated moment. As I thought about the wrong I had done toward Noah, I remembered the girl Rhett had been talking to on the phone when we were on the rooftop of the studio. Beth.

  “Would Beth be upset about us kissing?” I had to ask, but instantly regretted it when the words left my mouth. Now he would know I had been thinking about that brief phone call ever since I had overheard him.

  “Beth?” He looked at me, puzzled.

  “The girl… you talked to, on the roof that day.” I wished I could take it back. Why had I brought her up at all?

  He laughed a little bit and shook his head. "Can we just drop this heavy shit for a little while? Do you want to go somewhere with me? I need to check on someone, but I want you to come too."

  “Uhh…” I blinked a few times at his about-face. Was he just going to ignore my question? Of course, now I was intrigued. I guess I would let him show me whatever it was he wanted to, and then I would ask again. "Sure." I sighed. I slid my feet into my Guiseppe Zanotti heels and bent down to fasten the ankle clasps.

  When I stood back up, he was staring at me from the doorway. “Did you mean what you said earlier?”

  “Yes. But which part are you talking about?”

  “That you ended it with him? Whether he accepted it or not, you tried? I’m not asking you to break up with him. I’m just curious if that’s something you actually wanted.”

  I thought about his question, not wanting to respond impulsively. I also didn’t want the lust I felt for him to be a factor. “Yes,” I answered honestly. The second I spoke it into existence, it felt right. “Noah and I have only been together out of convenience. I hate that I let myself become that girl.”

  And the more I thought about it, this wasn’t just about Noah. I’ve let everyone around me manipulate and mold me into this girl I wasn’t meant to be for years.

  "Can you tell me one thing about him that made you happy?" Rhett asked, sounding genuinely curious.

  I sighed and contemplated that. It was sad because the first thing that came to mind was the shallowest answer of all. “He made me feel beautiful.”

  It took Rhett a moment to reply. “You’re amazing, Ever. You're probably one of the most talented vocalists I have ever heard," he said, still standing in the doorway. "You are more than just beauty. Don't let him—or anyone—make you feel any less."

  I let a smile slip from my lips, even though I didn’t feel as if I deserved his sweet words. “I’m trying. Honestly, I’ve learned a lot about myself these past few weeks, and I’m trying to be the person I want to be. And as much as I hate inflating your ego, I have to give you some credit. You really have taught me an instrumental part of that.”

  I started walking past him when he added, "And Pipes…” He used his nickname for me that I hadn’t heard in a week, and I realized I had missed it tremendously. “Just know that you were beautiful before he ever came into your life.”

  My heart stuttered at his words. Every time I was around Rhett, he challenged me and pushed me past my comfort zone. He made me realize that even though I thought I was this strong, confident and capable woman, I still had so much further to go.

  — FOURTEEN —

  When Rhett asked me to go somewhere with him, never in a million years did I think we would end up on the Upper West Side in front of Esplanade Luxury Senior Residences. The entire building was under construction, covered in scaffolding with a green wire mesh to help catch falling debris.

  I had a love-hate relationship with the constant construction of the city. I loved the older brick buildings like the one we stood in front of and hated to see them cloaked behind such an ugly covering. But I adored seeing them newly cleaned and restored. I didn't like that the construction sheds forced people into such tight confined spaces. My anxiety reached new levels when I felt trapped. On the other hand, I enjoyed the cover they provided during rainstorms and the semi-privacy the sheds afforded me in their shadows.

  Currently, Rhett and I were taking advantage of those shadows. We waited outside the tall brick building while he puffed furiously on his cancer stick. I hated smoking and didn't advocate it, but watching Rhett’s lips purse so that the smoke could escape was downright erotic. With his black knock-off Ray-Bans covering his eyes, his hair still an absolute mess, and his usual attire—black leather jacket with a grey hoodie peeking out of his collar—I had a hard time not, for lack of a better phrase, jumping his bones.

  “Why are we here?” I asked, purely to distract myself.

  “Give me a sec.” He pounded the pack of cigarettes against his palms.

  It was getting chillier in New York, and winter seemed to be coming earlier than I remembered it had in previous years. I pulled my leather jacket tighter and shivered. When Rhett lit up the second stick, I glared.

  “Really?” I asked incredulously.

  “Leave me be, woman,” he grunted. “Maybe next time you’ll wear a shirt.” He gestured at me and my goosebumps while he slid the pack back into his jacket.

  “I am wearing a shirt, thank you very much.” I flashed open my jacket but then quickly wrapped it back around my body when the chilly breeze hit
my exposed midriff.

  Rhett closed in on me with his cigarette perched between his lips. His hands snuck inside my jacket, lighting a fire around my midsection. I sighed as his warmth scorched my bare skin.

  I quickly glanced around. We hadn’t been noticed for a solid ten minutes, but I didn't want to call attention to ourselves. Beau had parked on the curb in the Range Rover, and I knew he hated us standing out in the open. Luckily, the only people that had walked past were born during a time when Fred Astaire and Billie Holiday were topping the charts.

  “This is not a shirt,” he whispered into my ear. His thumb grazed the hem, which stopped a few inches short of my breasts.

  He was right. It was more a cross between a crop top and a bralette, but it covered all the necessary goods.

  “I’m wearing a leather jacket. No one can even tell…” My voice faded as his hands continued to skim their way across my now heated skin.

  “Oh, we can all tell,” he huffed.

  I took a second to un-jumble my brain from his tactile approach with me after everything we had talked about in his apartment. I couldn’t say I hated his hands on me, but it confused me too.

  “I’ve worn less on stage than I am right now.” Somehow I was able to contribute to the conversation without drooling from his touches.

  “You can keep trying to justify the fact that you’re attempting to pull off lingerie as a shirt, but it’s not going to work with me.” I started to tell him that I could blow his mind with lingerie, but he quickly caught on. “No, no, no,” he rushed to say. “Please. I cannot talk about your lingerie right now.” Rhett’s hands gave my sides a gentle squeeze before he stepped away and started pacing, his shrinking cigarette continuing to provide its unhealthy comfort.

  I slowly began to realize that he was nervous, and it had nothing to do with me. I looked up at the building looming over us and wondered who was inside. Who could make him this edgy? I moved in front of his pacing form, forcing him to stop. I snatched the cigarette from between his lips, dropped it to the ground, and stomped it out with my black stiletto boot.

  He gawked at me. “What the—?”

  "Someone once told me it's a nasty habit." Without hesitation, Rhett reached into his jacket pocket, and I swiftly reached for his hand. "No more!"

  “Look, it’s just what I do before I go in there.” He gestured toward the front doors with his free hand before attempting to use that hand to snatch his pack.

  “Who’s in there?” I asked, seizing that hand to stop him from grabbing another cigarette.

  "My dad," he whispered. I squeezed his hands and held on while moving closer to him. His dad? In a retirement home? I quickly thought about my own dad, still young and running around a diner at least ten hours a day. I didn’t even want to imagine my dad getting older. It hurt too much, and that made me hurt for Rhett even more.

  I also couldn’t imagine being that uneasy about seeing my own father. My dad was one of my best friends, which I knew spoke volumes about my list of companions. But it also showed the bond he and I maintained despite the distance. My mom, however… she was a different story.

  “You two don’t get along?”

  “No, we’ve been close my entire life.” He looked up at the building that cast us in its shadow.

  "Then—" Both of our phones chimed, one right after another. It seemed weird, so we pulled them out and checked the screens. "Beau… he said, Stop touching each other and get inside already.” I glared over at the car, hoping he could see my annoyed expression.

  “Mine’s from Beau too,” Rhett added. “Except it just says, Stop fucking touching her.”

  I smiled playfully when I looked up at him. “There’s one thing Beau has yet to learn about me in all the time we’ve worked together.”

  “And… what’s that?” he asked while simultaneously popping a peppermint into his mouth.

  I eyed him, wondering if the peppermint was to cover the smell of the cigarette, or if he just needed something in his mouth since he couldn’t have another.

  It didn’t matter. I looked up at him and said, “I hate being told what to do.” I smashed my body against Rhett’s and almost hummed with pleasure when his hands moved instantly to the bare skin under my jacket. “You want to tell me why you’re avoiding going in there to see your dad, subway boy?”

  "Did I actually tell you that I liked you earlier? What I meant to say is that you're a real pain in my ass." His warm hands were now pressed against my lower back, ensuring that I couldn't step away. As if I wanted to.

  “That’s old news.” I waved him off. “I’m starting to think you need someone who’s a pain in the ass in your life. And at least I’m not boring, right?”

  “Hey!” Beau’s voice hollered from the street. “Dumb and Dumber! Get your asses inside!”

  Rhett nodded his head toward the large man while maneuvering me toward the door. I, on the other hand, responded by sticking my tongue out at him while slapping Rhett on the ass, knowing it would grind Beau’s nerves.

  "Pipes, I could never accuse you of being boring." He pulled the door open before closing it behind us, and we found ourselves standing in front of another door. "And don't think I'm going to let it slide that you keep teasing me so that you can mess with Beau." He smiled slyly at me, and I shivered at the anticipation of any payback he wanted to deliver.

  Rhett typed an eight-digit code into the security panel, and I heard the lock disengage. As we walked inside, I asked, “You caught on to that?”

  “I know you too well,” he responded. We passed two women sitting at a receptionist's desk, but Rhett didn't stop. They did a double-take when they saw us, and I watched as one started whispering to the other. Rhett waved and pulled me along toward the stairwell, entirely bypassing the elevator bank.

  I shook my head. “You don’t really know me at all. We practically just met. I mean, do you know my favorite color? Favorite food? Do you even know my little brother’s name?”

  Rhett pulled me through the door marked ‘Stairs’. I looked up at the tall stairwell and wondered which floor we were headed to. I hoped it wasn't the roof—he seemed to like those—because my legs were still sore from my workout earlier. I only made it up one step before I felt a gentle tug on my arm, so I turned back around.

  “Whoa, how long have you had that bottled up?” He looked at me wide-eyed.

  I had to think about my rant and where I had been going with it. Sometimes my guard came up so quickly that words spilled from my mouth before I could think them through. “Sorry, I’m not sure where that came from.”

  "You’re right, though,” Rhett said. “I don't know everything about you. I don’t know your favorite color. I don’t know what you like to eat when you’re tired, happy, or sick. I don’t know what temperature you like to set the thermostat, and that’s pretty important to me.” He laughed. “I mean, what if you like it really hot when you sleep… that could be a deal-breaker for me.” I smiled as he tried to lighten the mood.

  His voice echoed a little bit as he continued. “I don’t know if you prefer summer or winter. I don’t know if you like the city, the beach, or would rather be in the mountains. Hell, I don't even know what you like to do in your free time." He took a deep breath and looked up at me, but I couldn't read his expression at all. I just knew it was something I wanted to see for as long as possible.

  “I want to know those things. And I will… with time." I averted my gaze. "But I sure as hell know the shit that matters." I looked back at him, his sweet words sucking me in.

  “I’ve seen you bare it all for the sake of writing the most fucking perfect lyrics. I’ve seen the way you scrunch your nose when you start feeling too emotional. I’ve seen your real honest-to-God smile when you’re on the phone with your dad. You don’t give that smile out often. I know you can be feisty as hell, and I love riling you up almost as much as I love my guitar. I also know you don’t have a little brother; you’re
an only child.” He ran his hand through his hair and stepped right in front of me. “And I know that you’re the loneliest person I’ve ever met swimming in a sea of people. So yeah, I don't know all that surface shit about you—yet—but I think I know the real you. Not the you that you give the cameras or even the you that people who work for you get. I know Ever."

  I noticed that my nose had begun to scrunch and I quickly stopped, realizing it was something he had pointed out about me. Rhett ran his finger down the length of my nose, letting me know he had already noticed.

  “Don’t worry, you aren’t alone anymore,” he said. Then he headed up the stairs as if he hadn’t just dropped a statement so profound it took my breath away.

  I gradually ascended the steps behind him, my thoughts crowding my mind at a million miles an hour. Was I lonely? Was that part of my problem? I had always had an issue with being alone. I never slept alone, and I constantly kept as many people around me as possible. But when it came down to it, was I truly lonely? Had I been surrounding myself with empty relationships? I knew my relationship with Lola and my dad were something that could never be diminished, but even then, I never gave them all of me.

  “Ever Lonely,” I heard Rhett state without turning to face me.

  “Excuse me?” I asked.

  “That song you’ve been working on. The one you haven’t been able to name. You should call it ‘Ever Lonely.’”

  “I can’t put my name in the title,” I scoffed. “That’s so corny and narcissistic.”

  “If you haven’t noticed, your name is also an adverb. It’s beautiful and perfect. It fits that song in more ways than one.”

  He was right. Of course he was. He seemed to always be right.

  “Black,” I told him. He turned and gave me a puzzled look. “My favorite color is black.”

  “That’s not a real color. Try again.” He laughed and continued his climb.

  “How is it not a color?”

  “Black is the absence of color, therefore it cannot be your favorite color.”