Love Out Loud

by Aimee Salter

  I couldn’t decide which would be worse.

  “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

  “Well, I’m sorry if I made breaking up with me too hard on you.”

  But Crash just stepped past me to kneel on his chair and reach through the cab of the truck to turn up the radio.

  . . . amazing song, trust me you’re going to hear this one a lot—

  “Are you kidding me right now?”

  Crash got back to his feet, shook his head, the announcer’s voice was loud enough I had to raise mine to be heard over him. Pain threatened to crack my ribs. He was this callous already?

  “Just because you’ll be famous doesn’t mean you get to treat me like—”

  “—from a new band called Crash Happy, this is the next number one hit you’ll be singing: In the Dark!”

  I gasped.

  Crash bobbed his head in time, finger and thumb drumming on his thigh. A smile crept onto his face. “I’m not breaking up with you, Kelly—we’ll talk about why you’d even think that later. Just listen.”

  The bass drum pulsed. An electric guitar sang eerily beside it as Crash’s voice, gravelly at his deepest range, cut the air.

  Sitting here, it’s three am,

  Singing ’til I’m sick

  ’Bout all the things I had to deal

  Before your light walked in

  Can you hear me, all that hurt?

  Can you hear the way I’m feeling?

  Promise me you’ll never close

  The door you opened

  In the dark.

  Sitting here while you sleep there,

  Aching for your arms.

  I’ll crack myself open wide,

  And let your light walk in.

  All the way in.

  All the way in.

  The line echoed while everything else trailed off—his voice, the guitar, even the bass whispered almost to a stop.

  Then, on a four-count of silence marked only by the sticks, Tommy’s drums and a guitar exploded. Crash’s voice, that impossibly soaring, gravel voice I adore, sang me a love song.

  In the dark, you’re calling me

  In my dreams, I’m falling

  If you leave it up to me

  We’ll never be apart.

  In the dark.

  I want you with me in the dark.

  I launched myself at Crash. He wrapped me up, one arm between my shoulder blades, his hand cupping my neck, the other around my waist to pull me in tight. I clung to him as he murmured the song in my ear.

  In the dark, you’re calling me

  In my dreams, I’m falling

  If you leave it up to me

  We’ll never be apart.

  In the dark.

  You’re always with me in the dark.

  The chorus repeated over and over to fade with Tommy singing backup and whaling on the drums. And inside I felt so full I literally shook with it.

  “I love you, Crash. So much.”

  He froze.

  Adrenaline snaked through me. It was true. But he wasn’t—

  “Fuck, Kelly. I love you more,” he said hoarsely, then kissed me so hard it was a bruising, teeth-clashing, desperate connection.

  And I loved it. I loved him.

  I couldn’t stop saying it against his lips. He shuddered and pulled me even closer. Then he’d say it and I’d arch into him.

  There was so much and I was so full if we’d been somewhere with a bed and a lock on the door, I would have slept with him then and there.

  Instead, eventually, with swollen lips, we pulled back far enough to stare at each other. His hair fell into his eyes. But he cupped my face and examined me, shaking his head.

  “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he said, not a hint of teasing or flirting in his words.

  I put a hand to his cheek, pulled my thumb across his bottom lip. I wanted him to keep kissing me. But reality was already knocking on the back of my mind.

  “You’re the best thing that will ever happen to me.”

  His gaze got really dark—near black. Then he kissed me again. For a long time. Until my breath came too fast. Long enough that I was twenty minutes late for work. First time ever. And I didn’t even care.

  I walked into Grandma’s Diner to punch in with a smile on my face. Crash wrote me a love song, and other people will hear it.

  At that moment I knew I could live through another couple years with Dan, and grow to get past the death of my mom because Crash and I would be together forever.

  Chapter Eleven

  Three months ago

  Crash

  “I’m sorry I hurt you, Kelly. So sorry,” I murmur. “But I promise the girls in those pictures were nothing but marketing.”

  “Whatever. You owe me, Crash.” She lowers her voice as she glances at the door to Dan’s room. She rolls her shoulders back like she’s bracing.

  “Well, sure, but—”

  She raises her chin. “Writing with you guys is the first thing Dan’s agreed to in over a year. I’ve spent enough time by myself in that house. I won’t let you being a selfish jerk keep me in prison.”

  “That’s . . . good?”

  She nods once, sharply. Like she doesn’t want to agree. “So have Tommy tell me when you get out of here and I might come over. Or I might not.”

  It’s a battle not to smile because I can hear her internally berating herself for sounding indecisive.

  “And if I have an idea about a song I will tell you because I’m good at that whether you’re with me or not.”

  “Yeah, you are. That song you wrote was incredible.”

  She nods, but her nostrils flare and her lips are pinched. “I want to forgive you. But this is really hard.”

  “I get it.” I want to say so much more, but then she looks at me and for a split second, it’s us again. We know each other. We can read each other’s minds. But just when I’m going to open my mouth, she looks away.

  “Thank you for helping with Dan.” Then she’s gone, screeching that curtain aside so my head thrums, and by the time I ease it off, she’s down the hall, and Tommy’s standing in the door.

  We look at each other.

  “Prick,” he says.

  I roll my eyes. “I told you I was—”

  “Not that, idiot.” He ambles out the door. “She’s still in love with you. You don’t deserve that.” And he walks away again.

  I gape at the empty doorway.

  Is he right? A thrill fizzes through me. He’s right that I don’t deserve her heart. But, fuck. I hope he’s also right about her still wanting me.

  Rubbing my aching head with a sigh, I pick up the phone and open the guitar chord app again. Because she doesn’t know everything that happened a year ago. Can’t know. But maybe with time, if she still has feelings for me, she might forgive me anyway.

  Which means I’ve still got a song to write.

  Chapter Twelve

  August, Last Year

  Crash

  One hour!!!

  Kelly’s text pings on my phone in the middle of the wardrobe consultation and I have to work not to push the woman out the door on the spot.

  Peg, who’s supposed to help me find “my signature style”, and has just talked for twelve minutes straight about how meta my “punk-derivative look” is, waits patiently while I tap out a reply, then smiles when I look up.

  “I’m boring you, aren’t I?” Peg says. The answer is yes, but I don’t say so. “Sorry. This is my thing, you know? And you have this effortless way of looking tortured, right? So, I was so excited when Amber called.”

  While she talks I stop waiting for her, and flip through the clothes on the four rolling racks she brought in, pulling out shirts, belts, jeans, suspenders, and one tuxedo jacket. I put the things I like on an open rail. The entire process takes me about five minutes and I shake my head. We could have been out of here an hour ago. While she pulls pieces out to talk about how perfect they are for me,
I put them together in outfits, like she suggested.

  “Omigosh! You should be doing my job.”

  “No, thanks,” I say, sounding like a prima donna asshole, but I have to get out of here. “If you come up with stuff that fits with these, we’re good. Is that enough for you to go on? I need to get moving.”

  “Yes! Yes! Oh, this will be great. Thank you.”

  It takes another twenty minutes to get her out the door. By then Kelly’s answered my other text.

  Will you still pick me up?

  I tell Kelly I will, then fire off a text to Holly, Kelly’s aunt. She’s cool—way more relaxed than Kelly’s mom. With school still out and Dan out of town for work, she’s come to stay at his house for a few days and keep track of Kelly. As soon as I heard about Dan’s trip, and Holly’s visit, I sneaked her number off Kelly’s phone and schemed with her.

  She’s been awesome about it all.

  Only just finished. I can still make it.

  You got her bag packed?

  Holly replies almost immediately.

  On it!

  I grin.

  Thanks again.

  Any time.

  “I hope so.” I blow out a nervous breath. I’m stoked my idea’s coming together. But there’s a part of me that’ll never feel comfortable being this vulnerable with another human being—even Kelly.

  She’d never hurt me on purpose. But even people like Kelly do a lot of hurting without meaning to. And that scares the shit out of me.

  Shrugging off the dark thoughts, I usher Peg out the door and jump in the shower. The brand new shower in my brand new house. The house that’s listed in Amber’s name because we’re trying to keep the paparazzi clueless. I only have half an hour before I need to leave to pick up Kelly. By the time I head for the garage I’m sweating from running around the huge house, making sure everything’s in place.

  Keeping Kelly clueless about this place has been tricky. But we did it. And now I just have to hope she likes it. Because I didn’t just buy it for me.

  That thought sends a dagger of adrenaline straight to my gut. I trot down the internal stairs to the triple garage and into my custom jeep.

  Kelly hasn’t seen that either.

  Today’s going to be a trip.

  “Crash, are you kidding me?!” Kelly’s standing on the curb outside her house, hands on her face, staring open-mouthed at my Jeep. “Your advance came through?”

  “Yep.” I can’t help grinning. My girl is impressed with me. “And to celebrate, I’m taking you out tonight.”

  Kelly claps and squeals then throws her arms around my neck. I give in to the exuberance—and nerves—I feel, spin her around, then put her down for a kiss that turns deep fast.

  Holly clears her throat. “Can we at least pretend that you guys don’t touch each other? Please?”

  Kelly pulls back, laughing. She skips the few feet to her aunt, throws her arms around her neck, and squeezes.

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!”

  Holly looks at me over Kelly’s shoulder, reminding me of the conversation we had three days ago.

  “She’s a person, not a play-thing, Crash. I know you love her, but don’t push, you hear me?”

  “I do.” And I did. Though I’m free to admit in the privacy of my own mind that if Kelly says no tonight it will suck. “This is more about getting some time alone than anything else.”

  Holly snorts. “Sweetheart, I love you, but I was not born yesterday. You give her a choice tonight or, so help me, I will castrate you. With a nail file.”

  I wince. “Roger that, Holly. Seriously.”

  She grumbled, but I could hear the smile in her voice.

  Holly is Kelly’s mother’s younger sister—a lot more wild, and a lot less uptight than Kelly’s mom ever was. But even Kelly’s protective mom looks soft next to Dan’s fucked up rules. He’s always been controlling, but since Mrs. Berkstram died, he’s become a Nazi. Only the fact that I know without a doubt he’d send me to jail kept me from kidnapping Kelly weeks ago. Between her mom’s death, and Dan’s boot-camp house, her anxiety levels are through the roof.

  Well, Dan’s gone for the next five days, Holly’s here, and my girl’s more relaxed than I’ve seen her in months.

  And Holly believes teenagers need the chance to make their own decisions.

  Praise the Almighty for that.

  Now, with Kelly’s bag in my trunk (packed by Holly and hidden in the garage for me to pick up before I knocked on the door) and my girl ready for a night out, we’ll finally get the chance to make some decisions together.

  If Kelly wants to.

  I swallow hard.

  Kelly pulls out of her aunt’s hug. “When’s curfew tonight?” The hopeful upswing of her voice kills me. An almost-seventeen-year-old should not sound like she’s scared to ask about curfew.

  Holly gives me one more warning glance, then smiles at Kelly. “I told Crash you don’t have a curfew tonight, but—”

  Kelly freezes when she hears but.

  Holly holds her arms. “—my phone’ll be on all night. And if you need anything, you call me and I’ll be there, okay?”

  Kelly looks at me over her shoulder and I give her a small smile, hope and fear warring for control and making my heart pound. “Don’t worry, Kel. You choose everything tonight.”

  Her smile grows, lighting up her face so my chest aches.

  “Okay, you two,” Holly says, “Have fun. Keep in touch. And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  I quirk a brow at Holly, who gives me a flat look back. Kelly sniggers, but hugs her aunt one more time, then runs to the car, clapping again.

  I get the door for her, wait for her to slide in before closing it again.

  “Be good to her tonight, Crash,” Holly says, patting my shoulder as I pass.

  Fuck. No pressure. I run a hand through my hair. “I will.”

  “Remember the nail file,” she sings as I get into the car.

  I’m sweating when I flip the turn signal on and pull out into the street.

  It only takes ten minutes to get to the house—my house—from Kelly’s place. She went real still as soon as we pulled into this neighborhood, asked why we were here.

  “I’ve got something I want to show you.”

  She hasn’t talked since, just stared up at the looming gates and big houses lining both sides of the streets.

  I pull into the driveway, put my window down, and tap the code into the little black box on a pole next to the driveway.

  “Whose place is this?” Kelly peers up at the house as we pull in through the iron gates.

  “You’ll see.” I grin.

  I have a quick mental breakdown wondering if I should pull her bag out of the trunk now, or give her some time to get used to the idea of spending the night first.

  Deciding to leave that conversation for later, I leave her bag in the car, pull into the garage and hop out quick to get Kelly’s door for her.

  Her cheeks pink when I usher her out of the Jeep, but she’s not smiling.

  Nervous, I offer her my hand and lead her up the stairs and into the house.

  At the top of the internal access stairs, the house opens up to an entryway you could call a lobby. There’s a side table under a big painting right in the middle, across from the front door. I got a big bunch of Gerberas in every imaginable shade because they’re Kelly’s favorite and leaned a card up against the vase.

  As we walk into the double-height space she stares at the looming walls and marble floor. But when she sees the flowers she looks at me.

  I smile, “They’re yours.”

  “Crash! What is this?” she asks in a small voice. I can’t tell if she’s scared, or hopeful.

  With shaking hands, I lead her to the table. While she exclaims over the flowers, I offer her the card. “When I knew Holly would give us a night out, I tried to think of what we’d enjoy most.” I clear my throat. “This is what I came up with.”
<
br />   Kelly takes the envelope, glancing over her shoulder, towards the custom kitchen twenty feet away, then back to me with a hesitant smile before opening it.

  The card is simple—a teal and navy mod pattern on the outside, blank inside.

  I remember every word I wrote because I practiced it before I wrote it so I wouldn’t make a mistake.

  Kelly,

  My life’s changing so fast—good and bad. I want to share everything with you.

  This house is mine. I bought it with my advance. Holly’s giving us tonight to enjoy it together. I’ll make you dinner, we can swim in the pool, and watch movies until we can’t stay awake anymore.

  Then I’ll take you to bed and show you how much I love you, any way you want.

  You’re my world, K.

  Spend the night with me?

  -Crash

  I know when she first reads the bit about the house because she gasps. But the moments before she finally looks at me are excruciating.

  I’ve got my hands shoved deep in my pockets because I’m suddenly convinced she’ll freak and I’ll have to take her home and—

  “Crash!” my girl gasps and throws herself into my arms.

  I laugh and kiss her, slow and deep, before heaving a sigh of relief. I should have known she wouldn’t be scared of me. Letting her slide down my body until her feet touch the floor again, I cup her face and kiss her again before answering.

  “I’m dead serious.” My voice sinks to my toes. “It isn’t totally decorated yet because I wanted your help picking some art and stuff for it. But it’s mine. It’s livable.”

  “And there’s really a pool?”

  “Yes, there’s really a pool. And a Jacuzzi.” I should have known my little water baby would focus on that. I plunge my fingers in her thick blonde hair and kiss her again, slow and deep, until I have to push away from her, or risk breaking my promise to Holly.