I know Spence feels bad. He’s more subdued tonight, not his usual charismatic self while he’s playing. It’s too crowded for me to get a good look at him, but every once in awhile I see him glance toward the bar.
Losing Streak takes a break halfway through the night and Spence immediately comes to the bar. I ignore him, still not feeling particularly magnanimous toward him. He’s sweaty and flushed and for some strange reason I find a sweaty and flushed Spence hard to resist, but resisting I am. I give beer and water to Lucas and Max, and Spence stands there expectantly.
I look over at him because I can feel him staring at me with his puppy dog eyes and I can’t take it anymore.
“Can I please have a hug?” he asks, opening his arms. “I need a hug. My girlfriend is mad at me and I’m really sad about it.”
I smile despite myself. Damn him and his charm. I step into his open arms and he wraps them around me. I’m still pissed, but the hug is helping.
“I’m sorry,” Spence whispers into the top of my head.
“You have to go back on soon,” I say into his shirt, then back away from him. “I’ll get you a drink.” I hand him a beer and a bottle of water and he goes back with the guys to play the second half of their set.
And then, just when I’m starting to feel somewhat less shaken from earlier, I look up and my heart leaps into my throat. Fiona didn’t leave. Max and Lucas didn’t get rid of her, because now she’s standing right in front of me, a sickeningly sweet smile on her face.
“Gemma, right?” she says.
I don’t say anything. My blood is boiling in my veins and I’m afraid what will happen if I open my mouth.
“I’m Fiona,” she says, dragging her name out, Fi-oh-na. “I’m sure you’ve heard of me.”
I’m still silent, my fists clenched at my side. I can feel my mouth doing that straight-line thing Spence’s does when he’s upset.
“Yeah, you’ve heard of me,” she says with a small chuckle. She eyes me up and down, making my skin crawl. “So, you’re Spence’s new girlfriend.”
“Yes, I am,” I say through gritted teeth.
A feline-like smirk spreads across her face. “Are you sure about that? Because trust me, Spence doesn’t do girlfriends. I’m sure he’s whispering all kinds of promises in your ear, but I’d keep my eye on him if I were you. He’s not a one woman type of man.”
“I don’t need any of your advice, thanks,” I tell her.
“Oh it’s not advice,” she says, her smile getting bigger. “It’s a warning. You see, I came here planning on leaving with him tonight, and I always get what I want. Girlfriend or no girlfriend.”
“That’s not going to happen,” I tell her. My heart is about to pound out of my chest. I feel like I’m either going to leap over this bar and throttle Fiona or I’m going to pass out.
“Believe me, it is,” she says, leaning so far toward me her cleavage is practically in my face. “It won’t be hard to convince him. Honestly, I’d be doing you a favor. You don’t want to get serious with a guy like Spence.”
That’s it. That’s all I can take. I’m trembling with rage. “Get. Out.”
She doesn’t say anything, just leans back and crosses her arms, further pushing up her cleavage.
“Get out!” I say, yelling this time and pointing to the door. It’s taking all my willpower not to burst into tears. Dominick’s head snaps toward me, his brow knit with worry, but he’s busy serving drinks. Luckily, the bouncer we use on Saturday nights, Hector, hears me yell and is across the bar in two seconds.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
“No, she needs to leave,” I tell him, shaking with rage.
Hector takes Fiona’s elbow and tries to pull her toward the exit, but she yanks away from him.
“Get your hands off me!” she yells.
“You heard the boss, you’ve got to go. Either you walk out on your own or I carry you,” Hector tells her.
Fiona glares at me.
“This doesn’t change anything. I wouldn't count on seeing your boyfriend later,” she says, and she storms out the door.
“You okay?” Hector asks me, looking at me with concern.
I nod, breathing heavily through my nose. If I open my mouth to speak I know I’ll burst into tears. I take a few more deep breaths, then turn and yell to Dominick.
“I need five!”
I sprint down the back hall to the office, closing and locking the door behind me. When I collapse in the desk chair I immediately start crying. I wrap my arms around myself to try and stop shaking so much.
I can’t stay in here all night, but Fiona’s words are ringing in my head. The sensible part of me knows she said that stuff to rile me up, and it worked.
But part of me is terrified that everything she said was also true. That it wouldn’t be hard for her to pull Spence away from me. For her to entice him into sleeping with her. How could he resist someone who looks like Fiona? There’s no way I can compete with that. Nor do I want to. None of this was in the plan. I wasn’t supposed to get involved with Spence at all, and now I feel like I’m in way over my head. And I feel like an idiot for letting things get to this point.
Somehow I pull myself together. I stop in the bathroom on the way back to the bar and try to make it look like I haven’t been crying. It doesn’t go well, but luckily the bar is dark. When I get back out there, Dominick comes over to check on me.
“All good?” he asks.
I nod. “I’m fine.”
He doesn’t look like he believes me, but he goes back to work.
Losing Streak is still playing, and I can’t tell if Spence saw what happened with me and Fiona. He’s been looking over at me all night, but the bar is packed, and it’s possible he missed the whole thing.
I’m so mad. At Fiona, at Spence, at myself. The night feels like it drags on forever. I have no idea what songs the band played for the rest of the night, because I barely listened.
At the end of my shift I’m tired and I just want to go home. When I look up the usual Saturday night crew is still milling around the bar. Dominick is sweeping. Sophie and Max are helping Lucas with equipment.
Spence isn’t there.
I scan the room again, but I don’t see him anywhere. My heart races. I rush out from behind the bar and over to Lucas.
I grab his arm and pull him around to face me, startling him. “Where’s Spence?”
“He’s outside, I think,” he says.
I’m in the alley before he finishes talking. Spence isn’t out here. The van is here, but no Spence. My stomach lurches and my heart leaps into my throat.
Max and Sophie appear in the alley, carrying equipment.
“Where’s Spence?” I ask again, bordering on hysteria.
They’re shaking their heads, saying they don’t know, when Spence walks out the door behind them. I’m in front of him in a flash, shoving him in the chest.
“Where were you!” I yell, tears stinging my eyes. “Where have you been?”
“Hey, hey. I’m right here, what’s wrong?” He reaches out for me, but I step away from him, shaking my head.
“Where’s Fiona?” I yell at Spence. “Where is she waiting for you?”
“Gemma, what are you talking about?” Spence asks.
Behind us, Max and Sophie slip back inside the bar, leaving me and Spence alone.
“Fiona. She said you were going home with her tonight.”
“What?” Spence looks outraged. “You talked to her?”
“Yeah. And she reminded me that I probably shouldn’t trust you.”
Spence’s expression goes stormy. “Gemma, are you kidding me? I’ve done nothing, not one thing, to make you think you can’t trust me.”
“How many more of these situations are going to keep popping up? It’s like every week there’s some new girl from your past reappearing.”
“I don’t know Gemma, but I can’t change the past.”
I glare at him. “Yeah, so I jus
t have to deal with it, right? Deal with the fact that my boyfriend is basically famous for sleeping around? Deal with the fact that everyone has warned me not to get too attached because you’ll probably end up cheating on me?”
“Is that what Fiona said to you? Who told you that?” Spence says, his eyes narrowing.
“Everyone!”
“You can’t keep holding my past against me,” Spence says, and I can tell his frustration is growing. “If anyone should know I’m not that person anymore it’s you.”
“What about tonight?” I retort.
“You saw what happened tonight. You were right there. Nothing happened.”
“And what if I hadn’t been there? Then what?”
Spence growls in frustration and rubs his hands over his face. “Gemma, I can’t keep doing this. I don’t know what you want from me.”
“I just want to know you’re not going to cave and give in to the next pretty girl who throws herself at you.”
Spence throws his hands up. “You know what Gemma? I don’t even know anymore. I don’t know that I won’t do something stupid to piss you off. I can’t change my past, and I can’t predict the future so if you can’t deal with that then this isn’t going to work.”
My blood goes ice cold in my veins. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying we should give this up. You don’t trust me. I don’t know how to fix that. I can’t keep having these conversations again and again.”
The air disappears from my lungs. “Are you breaking up with me?”
Spence doesn’t answer me. He just stands there like a statue, completely closed off and silent.
“Spence, please don’t do this,” I beg. My chin wobbles and I’m one blink away from tears.
“I can’t do this anymore,” he says.
The door to the bar opens and Lucas comes barging out, clearly having no idea what he’s walking into.
“Spence, come get your shit. We want to leave.” Lucas stops in his tracks when he sees me and Spence and the looks on our faces.
“I’m in,” Spence says, not looking at either me or Lucas. “Let’s go on the fucking tour.” Then he turns and storms off down the alley and out of sight.
The sudden impact of what’s happening hits me, and the tears start to spill. I turn and fling open the door to the bar and rush inside. I’m barely thinking. All I know is I have to get out of here. I grab my things from the office and head right back the way I came. The road home is blurry as I try to navigate through my tears.
Chapter Forty-One
Spence
Day three without Gemma. What started as a five o’clock shadow a few days ago is working its way into a full grown beard. I stroke it as I stare at my reflection in the mirror over the sink in the bathroom. This is the first time I’ve looked in a mirror in four days and I hardly even recognize myself. Aside from the beard my skin looks gray and there are purple circles under my eyes.
“I hope you’re shaving that fucking beard,” Lucas calls from the hallway.
I yank open the bathroom door. “Fuck off, Lucas.”
“Man, you look like shit. You’re starting to scare me,” he says.
I ignore him and shuffle into the kitchen. I open the fridge to get a beer, but there’s none in there. I shove around the milk and ketchup and a few containers of yogurt well past their expiration dates, but still. No beer. That’s fine. Hard liquor would be better right now, anyway. I turn to the corner of the kitchen counter that usually serves as our makeshift bar, but it’s empty. Not a bottle anywhere.
“Where’s the alcohol, Lucas?”
“You drank it all.”
“That’s impossible.”
“I thought so too, but apparently it isn’t. I honestly don’t know how you’re still alive.”
Neither do I. Not from the amount of liquor I’ve consumed over a four day period, but because I don’t know how a human being can feel this bad and still be living.
“Well I am. And I need a drink. So go get more.”
“I think you’ve had enough, dude. Eat a vegetable or something. Drink some water,” Lucas says.
“Just go to the liquor store, will you? I’ll give you money. Get some beer. And rum.”
“No.”
“Lucas,” I sound whiny and desperate, the way he usually does, and I don’t even care. “Please. I need something to take the edge off.”
“Spence,” Lucas says. “I get that you’re bummed out about this whole Gemma thing, but you need to get a hold of yourself.”
“Come on, go to the liquor store.”
Lucas crosses his arms and leans back against the kitchen counter. “Go get it yourself if you want it that bad.”
“No. I can’t.”
“And why is that? Why haven’t you left the apartment this week at all?”
I don’t say anything, just smash my mouth into a hard line and try not to pummel Lucas until he does what I ask him.
“Is it because you’re afraid of running into Gemma? Because I have it on good authority she is also refusing to leave her apartment. Why are you guys doing this to each other?”
“It wasn’t working,” I tell Lucas. “I just didn’t expect it to feel this shitty.”
“The thing is,” Lucas says, “this is how breakups feel. Like shit. You wallow for a little bit, but life goes on. Eventually everything won’t suck so much. You’ll probably bounce back twice as fast as normal people, seeing how you’re so good at everything.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not good at this. Add it to the list.” Mention of the list causes a stabbing pain in my chest. I wonder if you can die from a broken heart. I take a deep breath. Maybe Lucas is right. Maybe I should snap out of it. I did this to myself, after all.
That night at Kincaid’s I snapped. It had been weeks of walking on eggshells around Gemma, trying to make sure she didn’t get upset with me. More than that, it had been weeks of me trying to convince myself I could handle being in a relationship without fucking things up. Gemma’s doubts didn’t help the situation.
Now it’s hard to say which is worse - the constant walking on eggshells or this deep, unrelenting sadness.
“If you shave that beard we’ll go out drinking tonight, okay?” Lucas says. On me.”
“I’m not shaving the beard,” I tell him. “But I’ll let you buy me a drink. Or twelve.”
“At least shower. You fucking reek,” Lucas says, shaking his head and going into his bedroom.
Lucas wasn’t wrong, I did smell pretty ripe. But I’m not getting rid of the beard. I cleaned it up a little bit, but I kind of like it.
We can’t go to Kincaid’s, and I refused to go to the bar down the street from our apartment because I’ve been there with Gemma. The night we slept together for the first time. That memory sends me reeling and I almost bail on going out all together. We end up at some other random bar Lucas drives us to, since I plan on being too wasted to stand by the end of the night.
“Shots, we need shots,” I say, heading toward the bar.
“Say no more. You want shots, we’ll have shots. Or you will, anyway. I’ve got to drive,” Lucas says.
“Ah, loosen up. You have a couple now, you’ll be fine by the time we go home.”
Lucas shakes his head. “You’re a bad influence, you know that?”
“Sure do!” I say, slapping the bar. I order us a couple rounds of shots and I'm feeling a little better. Maybe Lucas is right, maybe all I need is to get back out into the world. We order beers and find a table. I settle back in my chair, looking around the bar. For the first time in months I notice all the girls. Since I met Gemma I haven’t paid attention to another girl. I never lied to her about that.
“I need a rebound,” I say.
“No,” Lucas says immediately.
“Yes,” I nod enthusiastically. “I do.”
“Trust me, you don’t. That’s the booze talking.”
“No it isn’t,” I tell him. “This makes sense. I don’t d
o relationships. I forced myself into one and look what happened. Epic fail. Now I need to get back to being normal Spence. Spence who hooks up with whoever he wants.”
Lucas shakes his head. “Don’t do this to yourself, man. It isn’t a good idea.”
I ignore him.
“Hey,” I say, turning to smile at the table of girls next to us. I hold out my hand to a pretty brunette one. “I’m Spence.”
She smiles back at me and shakes my hand. “Natalie,” she says.
“Natalie,” I say, bestowing her with the smile I know makes girls go crazy. “Your name is almost as pretty as you are.”
Lucas groans behind me, but I continue to ignore him. I keep talking to Natalie. I talk to Natalie all night. She’s eating out of the palm of my hand. A few months off the market didn’t do anything to hurt my game, it turns out. I keep drinking, ignoring how drunk I’m getting. I’m good at acting sober when I need to, but even I can tell I’m slurring my words. Lucas is trying to cut me off, but I keep brushing him away. I can tell he’s getting pissed off, but he hasn’t dragged me out of the bar yet.
Natalie has a bunch of pretty friends, and Lucas isn’t even paying attention to them. He’s sitting there with his phone in his face, pouting. He’s probably texting Amanda. Maybe I could convince him to break up with her. Lucas and I always have fun when we’re both single.
It’s almost last call and Natalie has her arms draped around my neck. She’s whispering something in my ear but I can’t understand what she’s saying.
“What?” I say.
“I want you to kiss me,” she says, her beer-breath tickling my ear. My body responds to this request, my hands sliding down her waist.
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