Leaving Amarillo

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Leaving Amarillo Page 8

by Caisey Quinn


  Dallas had taken all of that away with a few words.

  Once we’d gotten our grandfather settled into bed that first night, my brother had stopped me in the kitchen. I told him that I’d spoken with my student advisor and since it was a family medical emergency and there were only a few weeks left in the semester, they’d hold my spot until fall and let me make up my exams.

  “I can’t say that I’m thrilled with you leaving school early, but I also can’t say I’m not happy that you’re home, Dix.” Despite the exhaustion we both felt from a week in the hospital, excitement had shone like diamonds in his eyes. “I know we need to focus on Papa’s recovery for the next few weeks, but I talked to a few owners of local venues. I can schedule Leaving Amarillo a dozen gigs next month.”

  “That’s great, Dallas. Wow.” Part of me was miffed at him for worrying about the band when Papa’s health clearly needed to come first, but I couldn’t deny that I was excited about playing with them again. It had been a long time since I’d looked forward to anything.

  “And Dixie, don’t say anything to him when you see him, but Gavin has been having a hard time. Without the band, he was just . . . kind of lost.”

  My heart clenches in my chest at the memory, the same way it did that day.

  “W-what do you mean . . . lost?” I’d asked.

  Dallas shrugged and averted his eyes, his tell that always revealed when he was keeping things from me. “Just . . . he really needs this, okay? We’ve played a few shows but it’s not the same without you. He needs the band and he needs to keep busy. Otherwise . . .”

  “Otherwise what, Dallas?” My white-knuckle grip wore quickly thin on my patience. “Tell me what you mean. Now.”

  Swallowing hard and clenching his jaw, my brother had informed me that when I’d left for school and he’d decided to stay with Papa instead of going to Nashville, causing the band to take a breather for the foreseeable future, Gavin had succumbed to the darkness, heading down a path dangerously close to that of his mother.

  Shock had slapped any chance of hiding my emotions clear off my face, and I’d begged my brother to tell me what exactly had happened. But he’d said the details were none of my business—just that it had been bad. And only when Dallas had told him that I was returning to Amarillo, ironic considering the name of our band, and that he had gigs lined up for us, did Gavin step back into the light.

  Which is why I have tried with all my might to keep my feelings for Gavin to myself. Until I had to watch him with that waitress and I suffered from a severe bout of temporary insanity.

  Gavin needs the band to keep him from the darkness. Dallas has always dreamt of being onstage. My soul will starve if I can’t play the music that nourishes it.

  But if I can’t hold my heart together, I am going to ruin everything. And everyone I love.

  Because facing the truth—the one I can’t deny while this close to him—is a hammer to all of my weakest places. The truth is, Gavin Garrison will never kiss me, or make love to me, or whisper my name in the quiet stillness of a darkened bedroom while holding me in his arms.

  He walked out. Just turned around and left. That was his reaction to me admitting my feelings.

  He will never say the words that I haven’t heard since my parents died. Not to me. It’s not worth the risk, not to him. And I understand why, I really do. But understanding and accepting are two very different things. My head understands what my heart can’t accept.

  It never bothered me that my grandparents didn’t go overboard telling us. They just weren’t vocal people. They believed in showing it instead of professing it all over the place. And I don’t think Dallas ever even said it to Robyn, much less to me. I know my brother loves me just like I know how twitchy it would make him to have to say it out loud. But knowing that Gavin will never say those three words to me is splinters shoving themselves deeper into my heart every day. Knowing he doesn’t want to hear them from me is fracturing it into a million pieces, creating a mosaic in my chest.

  Because I need to say them. I have to get them out or I am going to go back to that withering flower of a girl and if the wind blows, those pieces of my heart will be like dandelion seeds scattering on the breeze.

  I retrieve Oz from his case, keeping my back to Gavin and Dallas as they set up. They’re joking around, talking about some of the girls they’ve seen in Austin. My brother makes a comment about appreciating that the heat of summer brings short skirts out of hibernation. Gavin’s resounding laughter washes over me along with a wave of nausea. Dallas says something about a local hot spot where some girls want to meet up with them after tonight’s show, but the ringing in my ears drowns out the details.

  I wish they’d shut the hell up already and get on with it. I just want to play. Playing would be enough to hold me together. The music would wash away the hurt their jubilant exchange is causing. But neither one of them seems to be in a hurry to get started, and standing here listening to them making plans to go out and pick up girls I cannot do.

  “I need to take five,” I say, despite the fact that we haven’t even started. I attempt to set Oz down carefully, but I hear my bow clatter to the ground on my way out.

  Chapter 9

  TEMPORARILY BLINDED BY SUNLIGHT GLARING IN MY EYES, I MAKE my way by memory to the alley beside the warehouse. Leaning over and bracing my hands on my knees, I do my best to pull the scattered pieces of myself together.

  Dallas will be angry, and Gavin will likely be wondering if I’ve completely lost my mind.

  “You okay, Bluebird?”

  No.

  For the first time in my life, I don’t want to see him. I wish my brother had come to check on me instead. Because if he had, I could have fallen back on the female problems thing and laughed my outburst off, blamed it on hormones, and returned to rehearsal like nothing had ever happened. But those gray-green eyes are clouded with concern and all I can do is tell him the truth. I’m surrendering in the battle and handing over my heart. Along with the razor and the road map to the places where he can cut me the deepest.

  I shake my head as he comes closer. Gavin blocks the glinting sun and it shines around him, creating an angelic effect around my tattooed tortured soul mate.

  “I should’ve been honest. I should’ve told you sooner, no matter what Dallas said.” A small sound escapes and I rush on. “Then maybe I wouldn’t be coming apart at the seams during the most important week of our lives. I guess it’s true what they say about hindsight.”

  He stares at me as if I’ve launched into a foreign language he doesn’t speak. “I don’t know what you’re—”

  “I came home for Papa, everyone knows that. I came home to help take care of him so that Dallas wouldn’t have to deal with everything alone. But there’s more to it than that.” Taking a deep breath, I tell him the gut-twisting truth. “I came home for you, too, Gav.”

  He’s going to walk away again, just like last night. I can already see his plans for retreat forming behind his eyes. But I have to get it out, consequences be damned.

  “I hated my life in Houston. Being away from you . . . It felt—I felt like there was this magnetic pull. Like you needed me, or we needed each other. But this is even harder than being away. Being so close when I can’t . . .” My words are becoming raspy, choking me on their way out. “I don’t know if I can do this anymore. I’ve tried so hard to just deal with it alone. Everything is suddenly happening for us and I know I should just be grateful that we’re here and that this is my chance to escape the orchestra pit, but spending the rest of my life like this—on the road together but . . .” I can’t even put it into words, because it’s impossible to articulate what I need. And I’m running out of oxygen.

  I can’t help wishing I had a beer bottle to throw against the wall about now.

  His gaze darkens as his surprise-widened eyes meet mine. My head is still shaking back and forth, my body telling me to shut up, to keep it all in, but there’s no stopping the outpouring
of honesty now that I’ve broken the dam. Everything I’ve worked so hard to hold in comes tumbling out faster than I can even process what I’m revealing.

  “I know you don’t feel the same way, and that it will wreck everything we’ve worked so hard for, but I lo—”

  Gavin’s lips land roughly on my partially open mouth and steal the words about to slip out. Light flashes behind my eyes and my hands instinctually fly to the back of his head as if I could permanently seal him to me.

  His fingers press into the flesh beneath my bottom as he grips me tightly, never once pulling his mouth from mine, and lifting me to his waist. My back hits the brick wall behind me but I barely register the impact.

  He breathes into me, filling me, and I take his offering greedily, pulling his tongue and lips into my mouth harder than is appropriate for a first kiss. His teeth graze my bottom lip and I tug at his, thrusting against him uncontrollably. I need to be closer, even though it’s physically impossible.

  Maybe it’s pity, maybe it’s lust, or maybe this kiss is just to shut me up. But I know this may very well be all I ever get so I am taking ravenously until he stops or one of us passes out from lack of oxygen.

  The world spins faster, fading from view as his lips slow their assault, and I try to follow his lead. I want to memorize every intake of breath, savor each small groan of pleasure that falls from his mouth into mine but his intoxicating flavor is making me too drunk to concentrate. I want him to etch himself onto the tiny crevices in my lips, make it sting and sear so that I can remember every fraction of every second.

  When our tongues lash against one another a white-hot flash tears through my body, awakening every cell that makes up my being. A soft moan escapes my mouth and I shudder against the sheer force. The taste of him is more than I can handle while standing upright. Thank goodness he’s supporting my weight. It’s heartbreaking knowing I’ve lived my whole life without this.

  A deeper cry slips from my lips, and Gavin lets go so abruptly he almost drops me on my ass. As soon as he sees I’m steady on my feet, dazed, but steady, he rakes his hands through his hair and takes a step backward. And then another. But the real distance between us, that mile-wide chasm that separates us, isn’t in that few inches, it’s in his eyes.

  He’s pulling away. Already. Too soon. I take a step toward him, desperate to bring him back to me, to those few seconds of perfection that have been unquestionably the best ones of my life.

  But he matches me with a step backward. Taking another one, he’s cleared a foot between us.

  “Oh God. No. Dixie. Oh God. I shouldn’t have. Oh fuck. I’m sorry, I—”

  “Don’t you dare.” The anger burns like acid in my chest. “Don’t you fucking dare try and take that back, Gavin Garrison.”

  His mouth opens and closes. He’s wavering between consoling me and berating himself and he’s ruining our moment.

  “Don’t say anything else. Don’t apologize or make excuses. Please. Please leave it. Okay?”

  I meet his tumultuous stare, and he nods. “Are you okay? I lost control and I’m so sor—” My narrowed eyes clip his apology. “Did I hurt you?”

  Not yet.

  I shake my head no. But we both know he’s about to destroy me, to decimate my battered heart once and for all. Because as much as I wouldn’t trade anything for that kiss, it’s worse now. I’ve had a taste, a taste of the glorious, luxurious bliss that is being kissed by him. And now all that fills my mouth is his bitter regret.

  “Y’all coming, or what?” Dallas hollers, his voice alerting us that he’s approaching the open door beside us.

  The smoldering stare of the man across from me lifts to my eyes and I take a soul-soothing breath. I’m okay. For now.

  I don’t look at my brother as I make my way back into the warehouse and lift Oz onto my shoulder, murmuring an apology for treating him so carelessly. My tongue darts out and runs along my swollen, thoroughly kissed lips.

  I’ve taken the first hit and already I’m addicted. This will have to hold me over, will have to patch the dam I nearly destroyed.

  I play better than I ever have. I’m alive and on fire from the brief memory of Gavin’s mouth on mine. Dallas asks what has gotten into me and my face heats as I shrug and replay the kiss a thousand times in my mind.

  I tell myself that I can do this. Can feed off this. I have to. For four more nights at least.

  As for how I can survive touring with a man I love and can’t have, I have a plan. One that will either allow me to work in close proximity to Gavin for the foreseeable future or set fire to the world as we know it.

  Chapter 10

  Austin MusicFest—Day 2

  THE SECOND NIGHT OF AUSTIN MUSICFEST IS EVEN MORE INTENSE than the first. Thankfully I didn’t have to throw myself together in two seconds and hitch a ride this time. Tonight I’ve donned my carefully selected leather and lace-layered top. My jeans are well worn and torn in all the right places. It’s cooler tonight; the breeze holds the promise of rain. I breathe it in, closing my eyes and playing my fiddle the way Gavin kissed me only hours ago. Passionate. Hungry. Desperate.

  The crowd is larger. The sun sets slightly earlier, granting us—the opening act—that blessed darkness that somehow makes music more magical and mysterious.

  Tonight we’re on stage eleven, which is farther from the main strip. The band we’re opening up for hasn’t arrived and the coordinating crew members keep signaling to Dallas to keep going. We’re four songs past our set list and reaching the point of making it up as we go when the headliner finally shows up.

  “Living a Past Life” is a Christian rock band with a huge fan base. Their manager is explaining to the crowd about being stuck in traffic as we exit the stage. We’re swept off with a soundtrack of ardent applause. Whether it’s for us or the band taking the stage, I have no idea.

  “I’m going to hang around, talk to their manager a bit,” Dallas tells Gavin and me with a nod toward the stage we just left, once we’ve packed our equipment into the van. “Y’all can take the van back to the hotel if you want.”

  If I thought for one second that Gavin would come to my room, I’d take Dallas right up on that. But judging from how hard he’s been working to avoid close contact with me, I’m betting he’d lock himself safely in their room without so much as a good night.

  “It’s a nice night. Think I’ll walk around the strip a bit before heading back.” I don’t wait for permission from either of them before turning to leave. “See you later, boys.”

  I almost smile to myself. No way in hell either of them will let me walk around Sixth Street alone. It’s chaos. Everyone’s thoroughly inebriated. Most people are looking to hook up. For once, I’m most people.

  “Wait up, Bluebird,” Gavin calls out from behind me.

  Turning around slowly, I see him coming toward me with an amused smile on his lips. My heart sings.

  “You really think Dallas would let you loose out here without a chaperone?”

  I smirk because we both know he wouldn’t.

  “Ah. So you do know how to manipulate men after all. And here I thought innocence was part of your charm.”

  “Maybe I did learn something in college after all. How about that.”

  He grins and shakes his head. My fingers twitch at my sides, aching to reach up and plow through his hair, bringing his lips back to mine, where they belong.

  “So . . .” Gavin says softly, jamming his hands into his pockets as we walk farther into the crush of the crowd.

  “So,” I repeat.

  “We should probably talk, I guess.”

  “You guess?”

  “Jesus, Dixie.” He huffs out an annoyed breath. “You a mockingbird now?”

  “You kissed me, Gavin. Mr. I-Will-Never-Touch-You. Guess that plan is pretty much shot to hell. So now what?”

  “I think I preferred it when you were just repeating what I said.”

  Leaning gently against him, I nudge his shoulder with m
ine. That kiss has opened a door, a door to a place where I’m allowed to touch him. It’s delicious and reckless and I can’t get enough.

  “Are you going to tell me why?”

  “Why what?” He arches a curious brow at me but he’s frowning.

  “Why you changed your mind. About me. About kissing. About us.”

  The lights from the bars are bright all around us as we make our way through the crowded street, but as I wait for his answer, we might as well be alone in stark darkness.

  “I didn’t change my mind exactly.”

  Oh God. My heart sinks into the hollow pit that is my stomach.

  “Okay,” I say slowly, dragging out my response to give myself time between his verbal blows. “So what then? You slipped and fell on my mouth? Just before accidentally picking me up and ramming me into a building while you—”

  “Enough.” Gavin stops abruptly and faces me. He’s a burning man, lit up from the inside out and glaring at me with a look of sheer warning. I’d back up for my own safety but apparently I don’t much value self-preservation. “That’s enough,” he says, appearing mildly calmer than before. “It was a mistake. Like I told you before, there are moments when things between us get . . . difficult to control. This time I screwed up and gave in, that’s all. It won’t happen again.”

  The noise that escapes me sounds like laughter, but I imagine this is how a house pet must feel when kicked unexpectedly.

  “You know what, Gavin? If that’s true, then I’m just disappointed. When did you turn into this guy?” I keep walking as if I’m completely unconcerned with whether or not he’s following.

  “What are you talking about? What guy?” He’s beside me again, easily keeping my pace.

  “The one who lies—to me and to himself. The one who apologizes like a damn coward for finally taking something he wanted. Something that he knows he enjoyed.”

 

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