by Kacey Shea
“I’m sure there’s so much more.”
She shrugs. “I’m really bad at this. Talking about myself. I’d rather clip someone else’s toenails.”
“That’s quite honestly the nastiest thing you’ve said.”
“It’s true!” She laughs and I have to join her; the sound is infectious.
She leans back against the headrest of her seat, and turns her head to catch me staring.
My gaze goes back to the road. “How about I ask you questions? Are you’re okay with that?”
“We can try that.” There’s a trepidation in her answer that’s surprising, and maybe that’s because if she were to ask me anything, I’d answer without hesitation. It’s clear she doesn’t feel the same.
I make it my sole mission to ease her discomfort around me. So she feels as though she can tell me anything. So she trusts me. “What would you do, Jess, like for a career, if you could do anything?”
“Design.” Her answer comes much faster than I anticipate.
My brows rise. “Yeah? What exactly? Buildings? Websites?”
“Oh. Um. That’d probably be more practical.” She slinks back into the seat.
“We’re not talking practical. We’re talking dreams, Jess. I wanna know what you’d do every day, if money and failure weren’t an option?” If Coy weren’t in the picture. I don’t add that part, but it’s almost as if the thought lingers in the silence between us. I wonder whether she’ll answer. I almost give up hope.
“I would design clothes. Jewelry. Bags. Shoes. All of it.”
“So, those magazines aren’t simply for entertainment.” I slide a glance her way and find her smiling.
“Busted.” She shrugs.
“I think you should do it.”
“It’s just a dream, like you said. I have no business experience. No design skills. I don’t even know how to use a sewing machine. I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“You can learn. Or hire help. If that’s what you want to do, that’s what you should be doing.”
“You make it sound simple.”
“I’m sure it’s not. It’s a lot of work, like anything worth having, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t possible.”
She doesn’t answer, almost as if she’s considering my advice. I hope she is, because Jess deserves to chase her dreams.
“Maybe I will.” Her voice is so light it almost evaporates in the rush of air that flies through the open windows. But no matter how small her confidence, the conviction is there.
I nod. “Someday, when you do that, I want to walk down some fancy red carpet in one of your designs. Swear it.” I grip the wheel with one hand to drag my finger over my heart.
“You might regret that promise.” She giggles, and it steals my eyes from the road.
“Why is that?” I focus back on driving, but catch her wide smile from the corner of my gaze.
“Because it’d be a women’s line. That’s what I would design. At least when I think about it, that is.”
“Yeah, okay. I guess you’re right. You’ll have to design something for a man, just for me, so I don’t have to attend the next Grammy’s in drag.”
“Okay. Deal.” She laughs and this time it’s clear she thinks my suggestion is ridiculous.
“I’m serious, Jess. You should be designing clothes if that’s what you want. Dream big, but don’t let those hopes stay in that gorgeous head of yours. Take a chance. Fail. Then try again until you succeed.”
The navigation on my dash steals my focus for the rest of the drive, and for the next ten minutes neither of us speaks. I keep my eyes on the road, and on the map that tells me where to go. Again, I don’t expect her to respond, and maybe I overstepped my boundaries in telling her what to do. I know as well as anyone that success isn’t instantaneous, and I probably came off an arrogant jerk insinuating otherwise. I open my mouth to apologize but she cuts me off, speaking first.
“Maybe. Someday.” Her lips lift in a natural smile and she stares out the window before meeting my gaze. “Thank you.”
I nod and train my eyes back on the road. “For the record, I don’t think you should waste another someday.”
54
Jess
Don’t waste another someday.
His words ring like truth in my soul, speaking with an honesty I never afford myself. I don’t want to waste my life, but isn’t that what I’ve been doing this entire time? Have I only masked my decisions with survival when really they’re based in complacency and a fear of failure? Even more unsettling is Sean’s ability to see through the bullcrap I feed myself. The same talk that keeps me from striving for anything more than merely getting by.
My questions are cut off by the vibration of his phone in my hands. I glance at my lap, and his caller ID scrolls across the screen with the words ‘Mom & Dad.’ “Um, your parents are calling.”
“Do you mind?” He glances at me and then the screen. “They won’t stop calling until I pick up.”
“Yes, of course. Here.” I move to hand him the cell but he shakes his head no.
“I got it.” He clicks a button on the dash and the speakers amplify with the static of the line. “Hello,” he says.
“Sean, how’s my favorite son?” A man’s voice booms through the speakers.
Sean adjusts the volume and rolls his eyes. “I’m your only son, Dad.”
“Yeah, I guess so. Hey, I wanted to make sure you were okay. After we talked last week—”
“Dad, I have you on speaker. I’m driving. My friend Jess is here, too.”
“Hi, Mr. Willis,” I offer lamely, because I’m not sure of the proper protocol. Sean obviously didn’t want his father to share details of their earlier conversation. Even though he’s the one who took the call on speaker, it feels as though I’m intruding on something private.
“Jess! Hi. I’ve heard so much about you.”
So much? I glance at Sean and he laughs a little sheepishly when he catches my stare. “Come on, Dad. Don’t embarrass her.”
“What? I’m not allowed to talk to my son’s friends?”
Friend. Yeah, of course that’s why he told his father about me. That, and I’m connected to the band through Coy. I don’t know why I suspected it would be anything more, and shake the thought from my head.
“By all means.” Sean rolls his eyes but I can tell he’s not really that annoyed. He must have a good relationship with his father. I wonder what that’s like. Truly.
“Is my son behaving himself, Jess? He’s not getting into too much trouble these days?”
“He’s the perfect gentleman, Mr. Willis.”
“You can call me Terry, unless you want to call me Dad.”
“Dad!” Sean turns to me and mouths, “Sorry.”
“What? I like this girl. I’m just saying I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”
“I’m hanging up now, unless there was something else you needed?”
“No, just calling to see how things were holding up. Call me when you have time to chat.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“You two have a good time off to wherever you are going!” Terry says.
It strikes me funny because we aren’t out for fun, as enjoyable as this ride has been, and a giggle escapes my lips.
Sean presses his lips together and makes a point of rolling his eyes as he shakes his head at his father’s words. “We’re going to rehab.”
“Just to visit, I hope.” His dad’s sharp inhale causes Sean to roll his eyes again.
“Funny. ’Bye, Dad,” Sean says as he pulls his car into the immaculate driveway of what looks more like an estate than any treatment center I’ve ever seen. This must be how the rich get clean.
“’Bye, Sean. ’Bye, Jess. Nice to hear your voice. Hopefully, I’ll meet you when the band comes through our state in a few months.” The hope in his voice pricks at my own uncertainty.
“Yes, sounds good,” I manage to respond before Sean ends the call. Will Coy still want m
e with him once we hit the road? Will the label even be able to get me a passport? The fear of being left behind in Los Angeles or somewhere on the road quashes all the ease I was able to gain on this drive with Sean.
I shouldn’t have come along this morning. Coy won’t be happy when he learns where I’ve been and with whom. I worry that somehow I’ve sealed my fate with my spontaneous decision to join Sean. In the moment, I needed to get out of the house, but now . . . maybe I should have stayed put.
My mind races as Sean shifts to park and cuts the engine. He rolls up the windows but doesn’t move to open the car door so neither do I. Catching his stare, I’m surprised to find his usual confidence missing. He almost appears as scared as I feel.
I move to open my mouth, to offer him words of advice or consolation, but I come up blank. I don’t want to say something stupid or embarrass him by pointing out his discomfort. In the end I don’t have to because he breaks the silence between us with words of his own.
“Thank you, Jess.” His jaw works back and forth, his gaze transfixed on the doors to the center. “For being here. I appreciate it more than you will ever know.” He turns his head and emotion gets caught in my throat. The vulnerability in his gaze catches me off guard. Sean keeps things light. Comfortable. There’ve only been a few times he’s looked at me in the way a man looks at a woman he desires, and those moments have toyed with my emotions. But this. This is something altogether different. It’s not about a physical attraction; it’s so much more. And the way he’s opening up feels sacred.
His gaze drops from my eyes and lands on my lips. I can’t help but wet them with my tongue because they feel dry under his scrutiny, and I swear he exhales a sound that’s somewhere between a groan and growl. The space in the car charges with each breath. I’m stuck in its pull; scared to break the magic, and fearful of being pulled in further.
With a hooded gaze he lifts one hand between us and my eyes follow his fingertips until they press softly against my cheek. It’s only then I allow my lips to part and exhale the breath I’m holding. My eyelids drift closed and I want to lean into his touch. My body thrums with the promise of more.
He brushes the pad of his thumb across my cheek and over the shell of my earlobe. “Jess.” My name is pained on his lips and it’s enough to snap me out of whatever this is.
I shift and pull back until I’m leaning away from him. “Well, my DJ skills are on point.”
There’s hurt in his gaze with my silent rejection, and I have to look away. Not that we did anything—not that he even asked—but I’m not naïve when it comes to men and women. The heat in his eyes made his intent clear enough. I don’t have the luxury of exploring where that would lead. I’m with Coy. I’m loyal to him. Even still, I can’t help but wonder what would happen if things were different. If for once in my life, I were free to do and be whatever I want.
“I hate to admit this, but you make a mean DJ, Jess. I wasn’t sure you could recover from that Mmm Bop crap, but you did.” His smile is warm, easy, and back as if nothing happened. “Come on, let’s get this over with.” He nods to the building before opening his door.
I do the same, and meet him at the front of the car. “Anything I should know about Iz?”
“Don’t give him drugs if he asks.”
I laugh but Sean doesn’t join in. Crap. He wasn’t joking. I turn and reach out to keep him from walking forward, but drop my hand from his arm as soon as he halts. “I’m sorry, Sean.”
He meets my stare and shrugs with an audible exhale. “Yeah. Me, too. You don’t have to come back to visit with me if you don’t want. You could stay in the reception area. I would understand.” His gaze drops and he kicks the toe of his shoe into the gravel of the drive.
“No. I’m with you,” I say, and his gaze lifts. “I’m stronger than I look. This doesn’t scare me.”
His lips lift with a slight grin and he nods to the front door, waiting for me to take the first step. I walk ahead but within two strides he’s back at my side.
“I’ve never thought that about you. I think you’re pretty damn strong.” He reaches forward and opens the door, holding it for me to pass first. As soon as we’re inside, we’re shuffled through a quick guest orientation, and for that I’m grateful. I don’t exactly know what to think of Sean, or what he expects of me, but the man has already become someone I don’t want to live without. That’s a dangerous thought for a person like me.
I recognize Iz immediately from all the times I’ve seen Three Ugly Guys in magazines. He’s waiting for us and stands with a wide smile for Sean, opening his arms to embrace him at our approach. “God damn, brother, it’s good to see you.”
Sean takes a step back and rests his palm against the small of my back. “Iz, this is my friend, Jess.”
“Nice to meet you, sweetheart. A friend of Sean’s is a friend of mine.” He extends his hand and smiles when I place mine in his palm to shake.
“It’s so nice to meet you.”
“You two mind if we head out back? It’s not too bad in the shade.” He nods toward the large window and pats his pockets.
Sean nods and we follow Iz down a short hallway and out a door that leads into the backyard. Yard is an understatement; it’s like a set from a movie out here—one where the star quarterback lives with his trophy wife. Down a paved path there’s a set of white metal chairs. Iz nods for me to take a seat and I’m relieved that Sean pulls his next to mine. A simple gesture, but one that makes me not only feel included, but protected.
“You don’t mind if I smoke, do you, Jess?” Iz already has the cigarette between his lips, but his thumb hovers over the lighter, waiting for my answer.
“Not at all.”
The flame crinkles the end of the paper and he leans back, sitting across from us both. He blows the smoke to the side, a simple yet polite gesture. The acrid smell is still there, but he’s not drowning us in it. I wonder whether Sean will smoke too. I still haven’t seen him partake. In fact, I’ve only seen Austin smoke, and even he’s not regular with it.
Neither of them speaks, and while the silence should be uncomfortable, it isn’t. It’s a gorgeous morning, and peaceful sitting here with only the occasional bird to serenade us.
Iz makes it through two cigarettes before he clears his throat. “I’m sorry, brother. For what I said last week. I shouldn’t have put you in that position.”
“It’s fine.” Sean waves him off but there’s something in his gaze that’s apprehensive.
Iz lights up another smoke before meeting Sean’s stare. “It’s not. It’s not okay to use friends. I don’t want to be that man.”
“All is forgiven, brother.”
Iz nods at Sean’s dismissal, but it’s clear whatever happened between the two is bigger than they’re letting on. The silence that grows in the almost manic way Iz inhales his next cigarette suppresses the space between them even thicker than the smoke he exhales.
I don’t know Iz. I barely know Sean. But it’s clear these two need a little help building a bridge. Sitting up straight in my chair, I catch Iz’s stare. “So, Iz, did I hear you’re from Cali? I only moved here a few months ago and I’m still trying to visit all the must-see locations.”
He nods, his weathered lips pulling wide with a trace of his smile. “Girl, you picked a good place to call home. There’s nothing like this state. A few hours’ drive and you can be anywhere you want. Desert, ocean, forest . . . The only regret I have is not doing more exploring when I had the time to appreciate it properly.”
I don’t miss how his last words fall with a hopelessness. As if his life is already over. I have no clue what his treatment plan is, but I do know addiction isn’t something you can walk away from. It permeates every aspect of your life, present and future, including those who stick around. I don’t know him well enough to pry into the personal questions though, so I go another way. “What’s your favorite? Of all the places.”
Iz leans back into his chair, kicking his l
egs out on a long exhale of breath. He squints, tilting his face up to the sky, his lips lifting at the edges. “Well, let’s see here . . .”
Sean straightens in his chair and perks up with interest, his gaze trained on his friend.
“Torrey Pines. Back in my twenties I had myself a beautiful girl. We’d go there with a six pack of beer and food she snuck from her parents’ corner store. Maybe it wasn’t the most beautiful place, but the memories . . . Damn, she was a firecracker.” Iz meets my stare and I don’t need a mirror to know my face is stained with my blush.
“Iz . . .” Sean warns with a hint of laughter.
“Sorry.” He chuckles and nods his head. “Just remembering. God, I haven’t thought about Lou in years. There was this one cliff, right in the center of the park and we’d drive out as far as we could, then hike the rest. On top of the world. On top of the fucking world, that’s how it felt up there with waves crashing down below and the wind whipping our hair. Plus, it made for a good excuse to hold her tight.” He winks and chuckles again.
“What happened with the girl?” Sean’s question doesn’t chase the smile from Iz’s face but it surprises me. To wonder about Iz’s young love shows he has a romantic side.
“Like all good things in life, I ended it, stupid kid that I was. Lou was quite the looker. Sweet, too. The kind a good man would settle down with, but I was a wild mess, looking for my slice of adventure. But still, she entranced me for a long summer.”
It’s both a sweet and sad story.
“You two should go visit Torrey Pines. Make the time before you don’t have any more.”
“Oh, we aren’t—” I stumble over my words.
Sean interrupts and gives Iz a hard stare. “How about we take you there? When you bust out of this joint.”
“Yeah.” Something flashes across Iz’s gaze. Something I can’t quite name, but looks a lot like melancholy. He stubs out the butt of his cig and pulls out another. “So, what’s going on with the band? You find a replacement for the tour?”