by Emily Childs
I miss her.
She’s the first person I want to tell about this moment.
I just wish she’d respond.
Chapter 31
Alexis
#fightlikebridger
#weareallperfectlybroken
Two trending hashtags on social media. I wipe a stray tear away. Bryce’s diabolical plan backfired.
Bridger Cole is one of the hottest topics in the entertainment world right now. First, Nadia’s recant of her book made the internet implode. True survivors of domestic violence have called for her to face some kind of charge for lying. Can’t say I disagree.
But when the emails from Bryce were published on TMZ, with the picture of me reading to Bridger, then hugging him from behind, his name went through the roof.
Instead of backlash he’s becoming a sort of light in a storm. A glimpse at the dark side of rock and roll. Of drugs and depression. He’s giving hope to the hopeless.
And people sort of think we’re a fairytale.
I’ve avoided social media, but Zoey, my trusty internet lurker, keeps sending screenshots. I reread an Instagram post she sent me. The picture is the one of me hugging Bridger at rehab.
_Britt_H_ COUPLE GOALS. If I don’t have a love like @BridgeCole and Al, then I don’t want it.
#fightlikebridger
#fairytaleromance
#weareallperfectlybroken
#fighttotheend
Oh, Britt H. If you only knew. I’m so frustrated with the man I could scream, and so horribly in love with him I could cry. It aches.
As if he knows I’m thinking about him, my phone lights up with a string of text messages.
Bridger: I’ve started and erased at least a dozen messages. I keep thinking I’ll be witty. Maybe see if I can tick you off enough you’ll respond, but it seems so shallow right now. So I just want to tell you my house still smells like you. And I miss you.
Bridger: P.S. Poppy misses you, too.
Bridger: P.P.S. Talk to Parker. We punched it out. Cross my heart.
Bridger: P.P—who cares. I hope you come to the show tomorrow. Because if I haven’t told you yet, I miss you. And admit it, you miss me too.
Me: *mad face emoji*
Bridger: Knew it.
I groan when Parker’s name shows up on my phone. But it’s been long enough with the silent treatment. Now the time has come to yell at him. “Calling to remind me how to get dressed?”
He scoffs, no doubt, rolls his eyes. “Clever. Smooth. No, I’m calling you because you didn’t come to my game and that’s annoying.”
“I don’t need to come to every game.”
“Did you watch it?”
“Maybe.”
The rustle in the background clues me in that Parker has achieved his position of lounging on the bed to talk. “Lex, I want to fix this with us. I hate fighting with you because you give the cold shoulder better than anyone I know.”
I sigh, but a smile teases my mouth. “Parker, I love you, but you can’t keep treating me like I can’t think for myself. I know I haven’t always made good choices—Bryce for example—but you came in like a bear and threatened to give up your best friend because he was kissing me.”
“I know,” he says, voice soft. “Would you believe me if I said I was worried for both you and Bridger? With all of it thrown in my face I sort of lost it.”
“Why were you worried about Bridger?”
He hesitates. “I didn’t want him to fall harder for someone and not have it reciprocated.”
My mouth parts. “You think I don’t care about him?”
“How many times have you told me you don’t care about romance? That you’d never go for someone who didn’t have a boring, monotonous nine to five?”
“I don’t want monotonous, I didn’t want—”
“To be Mom? Yeah, I know. You’ve never really opened up to anyone. But this someone is different. This is Bridger.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, willing tears to stay back. “I love him, Park. And you’re wrong. I can say that, but he didn’t. I think, on this one, I fell harder.”
“Lex.” It takes a moment for him to go on. “Go to the concert tomorrow. Don’t shove him out because he and I got into it.”
“You want me to go to the concert after you nearly tore his head off?”
“Unlike some people, Bridger showed up at my game.”
I laugh and shake my head. “He said you two punched it out, but I didn’t really believe it.”
“Oh, we punched it out. I know everything, Lex. About your senior prom. The secret notes from grade school on. I know about the night he overdosed, how hearing you were engaged pushed him over.”
I draw in a sharp breath. “He said that?”
“He told me he was already in a bad place, but hearing that took him to the edge.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Come to the concert with me. I . . . I want to be your brother, Lex. Not your warden. I’m sorry for what I said last week. Bridger is my best friend for a reason. He’s the best guy I know, and the more I think about it, why wouldn’t I want you with him?”
A bit of relief warms my belly knowing Parker is supportive, but what good does it do if Bridger and I don’t feel the same?
“I’ll think about the concert,” I say.
“Good enough, but I hope you think hard. The guys are playing some new stuff and you know these First Responder concerts are important to him. It’d mean a lot if you were there.”
Stick a knife in me. I close my eyes and nod even if he can’t see me. “I’ll think about it. Promise.”
“Okay. Love you, Lex. More than baseball.”
“Love you more than Jane.”
I’m not sure how we ended up in Ellie’s Honda driving to my hometown. All she said was we needed sugar in our bellies, I suggested peppermint cookies, she about croaked right there, and instead of calling Holly for the recipe we opted for a road trip.
Bridger’s mom is more fun in person, plus I think Ellie wants to snoop in his old room. Maybe learn something about Tate, but she’ll never admit that.
“So this is the street where it all happened, huh?” She takes in the older homes with a grin. “It’s sort of romantic. You fell in love with him here.”
I know what she’s doing. For ten days Ellie keeps finding ways to casually bring up the way my heart left my chest and landed in Bridger’s hands a decade ago.
It’s been chaotic. I’ve dealt with the fallout of Tawni, made police statements about the assault, even had to attend one of the preliminary court sessions. At the urging of Becca and Ellie, I did press charges. Part of me felt bad for the woman, to lose herself in such an obsession, but I can’t shake the idea of her hurting Becca someday simply because she is about to marry Adam.
A cookie day is much needed.
Ellie adjusts her aviators when we pull into Holly’s driveway. Her hair is bright blue now and it fits with her bubblegum lips. “All these years I’ve known Bridger, and he’s never brought me here. You sure this’ll be cool?”
“Holly is basically my mom,” I say. “She highly encourages spontaneous drop-ins. How bad do you want those cookies?”
“Pretty bad.”
“Then come on.”
I knock on the door in a rhythm I’ve used since I was a kid. She doesn’t come, but her car is in the carport. I open the door and step inside. “Holly? It’s Alexis.”
In the entryway is a wall of family pictures. I try to avoid looking, but it’s impossible. I take in pictures of little Bridger when Brooks was born. His first guitar, his senior picture. An action shot of him at one of his concerts. Ellie snickers when she points at a framed picture on a table against the wall.
Tate, Adam, and Parker hold up fishing lines with Garett behind them. They’re all smiling like normal, well-behaved kids. But on the side is a girl in pigtails screaming, and an eleven-year-old Bridger trying to shove a fish in her face.
It heats m
y blood just remembering how irritating he was—is. It makes me needy to touch him. Kiss him.
Ellie snickers. “This is going on display at your wedding someday.”
“Stop.” I smile and take the picture out of her hands. “Tate was such a cute kid, wasn’t he?”
She wrinkles her nose before turning to more photos.
“Lex?” Holly peeks out of the kitchen. “Girl, what are you doing here?”
“Sorry to just show up—”
“What are you talking about, come here.” She wraps me up in her arms, then turns to Ellie. “And I know you. You sing with the boys sometimes.”
“Ellie Walker. We’re on the same label, but I’ve got to say this takes my friendship with Bridger to a whole new level. Anything embarrassing, please send it my way.”
Holly laughs and promises to deliver. “Are you close with all the guys, Ellie?”
“She likes Tate, but she’ll tell you she only likes Bridger, Lance, and Adam.”
Ellie’s face reddens and she pinches my arm, but Holly is already draping an arm around her shoulders. “You’ve got your work cut out for you, sweetie. Tate is stubborn, but that kid is as loyal as they come and sweet to boot under all that attitude.”
“Wouldn’t know, he’s basically a jerk.”
“Oh, but that’s only layer one,” Holly says with a wink. “So, Lex what’s up? Still mad?”
I frown. “They told you?”
“A few things. Parker stopped by and brought another hat for Beau. He’s such a Kings fan. He mentioned there was a misunderstanding between the three of you.”
“That’s one way to put it,” I say. “We’re here to forget men today and came looking for a cookie recipe.”
Holly’s eyes brighten. “That I can do.”
She guides us into the kitchen and ruffles through her box of old, well-loved recipe cards. We don’t take the card, instead, we stay with Holly to bake three different types of cookies.
When Ellie steps out to take a call from Finn, Holly joins me in placing chocolate bits on top of her famous cream cheese cookies. “Are you going to tell me what happened with you and your brother?”
How am I supposed to confess I fell in love with her son and my brother went berserk and acted like a jerk? I snort a laugh—he was a berjerk.
“Must be a good story if you’re laughing,” Holly says.
“No. It’s actually a little pathetic and sad.”
“I’m all ears.”
Holly takes over the chocolate as I lean on the counter and cover my face with my hands. “I did something dumb, Hol. Super dumb, and I think it’s made a mess of a lot of stuff. I mean, I don’t even know what sort of repercussions are going to come from this.”
“Sounds serious.” She’s smiling and I get the feeling she already has an idea of what’s going on, but will expect to hear it from my mouth.
I let my forehead flop on the counter. “I started . . . dating Bridger. The weekend we showed up here was when it started.”
“No, he called earlier than that and said the label was trying to fix his image and you were the winner to help him do it.”
“No,” I say. “We . . . were really dating. And Parker, he found out. We all sort of went at it, but it wasn’t a normal fight. We went separate ways.” I drag out a barstool, and like so many times growing up, I slouch over the counter, picking at cookie dough. “I feel like I’ve jabbed a wedge in their friendship. Even if they say they’re over it, it’s always going to be a thing with them, you know? And I don’t know how anything will be the same with Bridger and me.”
Holly listens. She methodically shapes her cookies and allows the words to hang between us for a long pause.
“Alexis, you haven’t put anything between Parker and Bridge. They’ll navigate new territory as they always do. But what you have done is be a light in my son’s life. You, Miss Alexis Knight, have been his safe place. You saved him. Literally.”
My chin quivers, my voice croaks. “But I don’t think . . . I don’t think we can be together.”
“Why not?”
Here it comes. The flood gates are open. “I thought our relationship meant something, but I fell deeper than him. I think he liked the idea of having someone, but when I asked him straight if he loved me, he couldn’t answer. He’s my weakness, you know? I’ve always felt these things for him but knew we’d probably kill each other or hurt each other in the end. But I gave it a chance, and I was right.”
“Lex, take a breath.” Holly rubs my hand.
“One time when he fell asleep during a movie, he said it. I never told him, but he did. He whispered he loved me. I believed him. At first.”
She squeezes my hand tighter.
“I get that I don’t fit in his world, but I do like his music, so I could fit. He tried to fit with me, at least that’s what Ellie said.”
“You fit.”
I fiddle with the ends of my hair, mind whirling like a cyclone in my skull. “When we almost lost him, Holly, I didn’t breathe. In that moment, I knew, life without a Bridger Cole driving me crazy would be . . . empty.”
She rubs my arm. “Sweetie, do you really think, after all these years, Bridge doesn’t love you?”
No. Sleepy whispers, soft kisses, gentle touches told me differently. “He couldn’t say it, Hol.”
“Did he look like a deer in the headlights?”
“A little.”
“Okay, then.”
“What? No, not okay then. If he loves me, I gave him every opportunity to tell me. In front of Parker! I looked like an idiot and it gave hot-head Parker Knight a lot of ammunition.”
“Lex, when it comes to you, Bridger wants to do it all right. Even when he was fighting you, he always wanted your approval. Who did he show his songs to? Not Tate, not Adam. Not even Parker. He cleared them with you.”
I chuckle. “With a heap of insults whenever I critiqued anything.”
“But he kept coming to you. Who did he ask to come wheel and deal their first gig at the diner in town? Not me. Not Parker. He made you manager for a day.”
I smile, remembering sitting down at the counter sipping a milkshake. I haggled with Ben Pearson, the diner owner. I scored the guys one free onion ring a day for a whole month, plus a hundred bucks for playing at dance night.
Not bad for a thirteen-year-old.
“When Bridger . . .” She clears her throat. “When he got lost, when . . . that night happened. He went to you, Lex. He ran to you.”
“But he didn’t—”
“Did you tell him you love him?”
I stop midbreath. Have I ever told him I loved him? Or have I only thought it a thousand times? “Well, I think I might’ve blurted it out when I went off on a ramble, but . . . I don’t know. I've said loving him was what I wanted to do. I'm not sure if I said, I love you, though.”
She pats my hand, a knowing smile on her face. “Let’s finish these cookies, but keep something in mind for me. How does Bridger express his feelings, sweetie? Does he blurt them out like someone I know?”
“No, he’s usually saying something sarcastic.” My brow furrows and I think of Bridger. He hasn’t ever been one to say a lot of romantic words. I shake my head, a little disappointed in myself. “He writes emotions.”
Holly nods and slides one cookie sheet into the oven. “Some people can verbalize their love easily, others show it through action, through touch. Some express through art. Or songs.”
I don’t know if I share her same confidence that he’ll find those right words, but I nod and help her form the cookies. Ellie joins us a moment later, and an hour later we’re laughing at stories of Tate when he fell through one of his drums after a gig.
It’s dark when we arrive back at Ellie’s condo and I’m on a sugar downer.
“Hey,” Ellie says as I set up the pull-out bed on her couch. “I don’t know how he got my number, but your hot brother texted me and wants us to join him at the concert.”
“Uh, obviously Bridger gave him your number and he’s being super pushy about this.”
“But we’re going, right? You’re not going to ignore Bridger forever because he got tongue tied, right?”
I sigh and sit on the mattress. “I grew up with a mom who loved my dad. But he died too young and she went searching for that kind of wild, passionate love again. Instead, she found codependence, mediocre lovers, and one-sided lust. I’ve always wanted stable and safe. I never wanted to be so head over heels for a guy that I’d lose myself like her.”
“Oh, but passion and romance and mess is the best!”
I smile. “I think for Bridger, I’d make an exception. But—”
“But nothing.” Ellie snaps her fingers. “So, he fumbled the chance to profess undying, lusty, sticky, delicious love for you. Why is it all up to him? You admitted you haven’t gotten on one knee and told him with intention, either.”
“I did say I wasn’t afraid to messy love him.”
“Okay, but did you say, ‘Bridger, I’m in messy love with you’?”
“No. Okay, no. I haven’t.”
“All right, then. We’re going to the concert. Support him, love him, fight with him. But no more hiding. Safe and predictable is boring. Go with the guy who makes your heart pound right out the back of your body. The guy who makes you go numb and hot all at once. Go with the guy who looks at you like you’re a secret thing he wants to crack. Bridger looks at you like that.”
“You’re a bit of a romantic, Ellie.”
She grins. “A little. But I also call it as I see it. And I think you’re holding a grudge because you got freaked out.”
I wince, but the truth is I’ve had the same thought a few times. Did I run at the first chance because I’m too afraid of losing him?
“Come to the concert. Talk to him, Lex. Quit making excuses. He’s your Bridger. Maybe we’ve only met, but even I can see how entangled you two are. And trust me, it’s not in a codependent way. You’re not your mom. You’re just in love, and that’s a beautiful thing.”
She stands and heads to her room, but calls out before she closes her door. “So we’re going?”