In the kitchen, I dropped my bag and found a bottle of white wine open in the fridge. I poured a glass and grabbed a bunch of grapes out of a bowl on the counter that would be shriveled by the time they got back. The house was stale and stuffy, so I opened the back door to let air in through the screen door, and headed into the family room to relax in front of the T.V.
Two sitcoms later, Karen called for an update. “He’s not here,” I said. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Where else could he be? He has to be there. My guy told me his car was spotted exiting I-5 North onto 152 West. Isn’t that how you get to Santa Cruz?”
“That’s how you get to anywhere north or west of L.A. I’m telling you, he’s not here.” I popped a grape in my mouth and flipped the channel. “Your guy was wrong and so was I.”
“Damn. Alright, I’ll stay on it. Call me on your way back tomorrow.”
We got off the phone, I finished a second glass of wine and watched T.V. until I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore. I shut and locked the back door before heading to bed.
In my room, I stripped to my underwear and cracked my window open before climbing in bed. Something hard and plastic jabbed my back. I dug around in the sheets and pulled out a strand of Marti Gras beads. My nieces must’ve been playing in my room again. I tossed them on my nightstand and closed my eyes.
There was music.
I rolled over and faced my window, listening. The Bast’s were playing music? It was almost midnight. It seemed unlikely, but that was definitely a guitar.
My heart raced.
It couldn’t be.
I slid out of bed and darted to my window. Across our yards, the light in Derek’s room was on and he sat on the edge of his bed strumming a guitar.
He was here.
He wasn’t just someone I used to know a lifetime ago. I’d been right after all.
I pushed my window up further and watched him work. His eyes were closed and every now and then he stopped playing, took a pencil out from behind his ear and jotted in a notebook beside him. This was how he always worked. The music first then the lyrics, but every now and then he’d sing a phrase and write it above the notes. He’d end up with a bunch of disjointed lines of words. Some would make the final cut and others wouldn’t, but he’d string them together to make a perfect song.
I sat back on my bed and leaned against the headboard. With my eyes closed, I listened and try as I might to discourage it, a picture began to form in my mind. A Derek Bast original. I hadn’t let his music invade my heart and soul since I was eighteen, because I knew it came with a price. I wasn’t prepared to fall in love with Derek again.
The melody was simple. It wasn’t upbeat, but not slow and desolate either. It sounded like hope, courage. It sounded like starting over. Or maybe that was my mind playing tricks on me, trying to get me to forget what stood between us.
The picture melding together in my mind was he and I standing at sunrise on the beach. We stood facing each other. His brilliant green eyes shone bright and clear. The wind played in his dark, tousled hair. A hint of a smile touched his lips. I reached up and brushed his cheek with my fingertips, and a swell of emotion rushed over me.
I opened my eyes and inhaled sharply. The swell of emotion wasn’t part of the picture in my mind. For the second night in a row, tears fell from my eyes over Derek Bast. I wiped them away with haste, trying to deny it was happening again.
Stumbling out of bed, I pulled my window shut and closed the curtains. Now that I knew he was here, I’d leave in the morning and send Karen to ask for the interview. There was no way I could stay and become more and more vulnerable.
Back in bed, I could still hear faint strains of his music. It lulled me into sleep on my tear dampened pillow where I found myself back on the beach touching his cheek.
When I woke from the dream in the morning, it was with the empty, hollowed-out feeling of something missing. I wanted to go back to sleep and find it, but the persistent knocking on the front door urged me out of bed.
A zing of panic shot through me thinking it might be Derek. My car was in the driveway, so it would be logical that one of the Bast’s would come over to find out what was going on while my parents were gone.
I pulled on my jersey dress over my head, grabbed my glasses off the nightstand and finger combed my hair on the way to the door. Through the sidelight, I saw him standing on my porch. The empty, hollowed-out feeling surrounding me since waking from my dream disappeared.
When I opened the door, he looked me up and down. “How did I know you owned a Prius?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Lucky guess?”
“Why aren’t you ready? It’s almost ten.” He tossed me a colorful folded towel.
“Okay. I’ll play. Ready for what?”
“Bess, it’s Saturday. What do we do on Saturday?”
Images of Derek at ten, twelve, fourteen, swam in front of my eyes. Every Saturday morning he stood on my porch waiting for me and we’d walk to the beach. Overwhelmed, I held up a finger. “I just need a minute,” I stammered, closing the door in his face.
Leaning back against it, I pressed my hand to my chest. My heart was about to explode. Once we’d entered high school and Derek’s attention drifted toward the more popular—and more developed—girls, our Saturday trips to the beach stopped. Or, mine did. He went with his group of guy friends to hit on girls. I stayed home and tried to pretend it didn’t bother me. To be fair, I could’ve tried harder to find girls to hang out with, but that didn’t happen until college.
A knock reverberated beside my head. I turned and opened the door to his amused grin. “I gave you two minutes. Ready now?”
I thought I might jump out of my skin with anxiety, but there was no part of me urging me to say no. “I’ll run and put a bathing suit on.”
“I’d say it was optional, but if the prospect of eating burgers scared you off, that would make you slam the door in my face.” He lowered onto the porch step and sat down. “I’ll wait here.”
I couldn’t do anything but nod, wondering how this day would progress. Wondering what he expected to happen between us.
Six
Derek
When I woke this morning and joined my parents for breakfast, Mom said there was a Prius in the Halprin’s driveway. Who else could it be but Bess? Since her parents were in Europe, there was only one reason she’d be there. Me.
Bess came to find me.
I decided I’d find her first and by the look on her face, I shocked the shit out of her.
I leaned back against the porch railing, smiling to myself. Some of my favorite memories from growing up were the Saturday morning walks to the beach with Bess. She’d talk about things that were interesting, like how the female praying mantis bit the head off of the male when they were done mating—something I’d have to watch out for if I ever got her into bed, considering our love/hate relationship.
The guys always talked about sports and boobs and when we got older, partying and banging chicks. Not that I minded. I mean, I joined in, but Bess made me think and she made me laugh. She was different. Not odd, different. Bess different.
Being back in Santa Cruz brought a new perspective on where I was headed and what I wanted. Last night I started writing a new song and today was the day for setting things straight with Bess. She wasn’t going to push me away. I wouldn’t go away, so she was shit out of luck if she wanted me to.
The front door opened and she stepped out wearing a beach cover-up and holding the towel I gave her. Her bag was slung over her shoulder. I took the towel from her and tucked it under my arm with mine. “Want me to carry your bag?”
“No, thanks.” She jogged down the few steps onto the sidewalk. Her hand shook as it glided down the railing. I wanted to grab it and hold it, assure her that today we’d get things right.
The worn down path to the beach cut through the overgrown grass and weeds of a vacant lot at the end of our street that had hosted a
faded for sale sign for as long as I could remember. I kept my eyes peeled for paparazzi or press as we walked. I thought about driving, but it wouldn’t be the same and it was vital that I made this day the same as our beach Saturdays used to be.
Bess walked in front of me down the path. I watched her hips sway and the thin, white cover-up catch the curves of her ass. My hands clenched remembering how it felt to squeeze her bare ass cheeks and pull her up against me on my lap.
“I was watching this show last night,” she said, breaking the silence we’d held since leaving her porch. “Did you know the electric chair was invented by a dentist?”
“A dentist? No. I didn’t know that.” What was it about walking down the path with me that made her think of fun facts about death when I was deep in thought about having my fingers inside her again?
“Like going to the dentist wasn’t bad enough,” she said. “I wonder what he was trying to invent. He couldn’t have sent out to make a chair that killed people. At least I hope not. My guess is he was attempting to knock people out for surgery.”
“Reminds me of when you got your wisdom teeth out.” I chuckled, thinking back on it. “Your whole face puffed up like a balloon.”
She looked back over her shoulder at me and tried to give me a dirty look, but ended up laughing. “God, that was awful. And you barely swelled at all when you had yours out. So unfair.”
That was the last summer she talked to me. Neither of us mentioned it, but the knowledge was there, standing between us.
A rickety, wooden set of stairs led down to the beach. It was packed with people. Sun umbrellas stood in the sand and kids splashed in the waves. Groups of teens milled around checking each other out and the water was dotted with surfers.
“Aren’t you afraid you’ll be spotted?” Bess shielded her eyes with her hand, looking up at me.
“It crossed my mind.” But, this trip down memory lane with her was more important than caring if people got photos of me laying in the sand.
“Your parents’ house will be swarmed if it gets out you’re here.” She glanced around the beach then back up at me. “You can’t pretend things haven’t changed.”
My hands hit my hips and I inhaled deeply, keeping my cool. “Too much has changed. That’s the problem. I just want one thing to be how it used to be. Why is that too much to ask?”
“Of me?” She asked, her brows tilting adorably over her glasses.
I ran a hand down her arm, unable to keep myself from touching her any longer. “Of anyone. Anything.”
She nibbled her nail and turned back to the beach, looking right then left. “How much money do you have on you?”
I patted my pocket. “Couple hundred probably. Why?”
“Trust me?” She asked, holding out her hand.
That she’d have to ask struck me in the gut. I reached out and cupped the back of her head in my hands and I stared into her eyes, willing her to know how important she was to me. How she’d always been the person I trusted most, even after all the time that had passed between us. “Always,” I said, then leaned in closer to make sure it was clear. “Always.”
We were so close, her warm breath tickled my lips. I didn’t want to let go. I wanted a replay of yesterday when she couldn’t stop herself from kissing me. “What do you want?” she asked, as if reading my mind. I gazed back and forth between her beautiful, dark blue eyes. “It’s not an easy question to answer,” she said, “is it?”
A molten sensation ran through my chest. “It’s the easiest question I’ve ever been asked.” Her eyebrows rose in question, wanting an answer. Instead of telling her, I showed her by pressing my lips against hers, kissing her slowly, softly. I didn’t want to scare her away. She had to believe I would never hurt her.
Her hands came up to my wrists. They trembled as she held on to me, but she didn’t try to stop me from kissing her. It took every ounce of will power to keep my tongue from darting into her mouth, but this was about rebuilding the trust I somehow lost with her. I had to take my time and do this right.
I stroked her cheeks with my thumbs and peppered kisses on her chin, her nose and her forehead. I’d been all over the world, but standing on the city beach in Santa Cruz kissing Bess Halprin with the sun beating down on us, the waves crashing, kids shrieking and sand between my toes was my favorite place I’d ever stepped foot.
“Does this answer your question?” I whispered in her ear while kissing the side of her neck.
“It can be interpreted a few different ways,” she said, leaning into me.
I lifted her chin and looked down into her eyes. “I want all the ways. I’ll start with earning back your friendship.”
She smiled and licked her lips. “Friends don’t kiss like that.”
“You were always an A.P. student. Think of this as A.P. friendship.” I tugged on a lock of hair hanging beside her mouth then tucked it behind her ear.
She let her head fall back and laughed. “A.P. friendship. Okay. I’ve heard it all.”
“I’m sure I can come up with more.” I took her hand, locking my fingers between hers. “What did you need money for?”
“That?” She dug a hand in my pocket—her hand dangerously close to my dick—and pulled out a wad of cash. I adjusted my swim shorts so she wouldn’t see what her foray into my pocket had started. “It’s a surprise,” she said. “Stay right here at the end of the trail so nobody figures out you’re you. I’ll be back.”
She turned and ran through the sand, her legs stretching gracefully. I watched her until she was a speck in the distance. Then I wondered if she’d really come back.
Bess
It took longer than I thought. I darted back down the beach straining to see if Derek still stood where I’d left him a little over a half hour ago. I wouldn’t blame him if he left. He probably thought I took his cash and ran off with it. Not that he wouldn’t be able to find me right next door anyway.
A beach ball rolled in front of me and I almost tripped. “Sorry,” a pre-teen girl said. I waved and kept running, dodging rafts and towels.
I could see the end of the trail that led back to our allotment, but I couldn’t see Derek. I scanned the area as I neared and didn’t see him anywhere. I reached the spot where I’d left him and sank down in the sand, defeated.
“Took you long enough.” I looked around trying to find where his voice was coming from. Then he stepped out from underneath the wooden stairs that led back up to the trail into our allotment. “Some guy with a camera was trolling around. I hid.”
“You’re covered in sand!” I stood up and brushed his back off, letting my hands trail down over his firm, round butt.
“Hey. This A.P. friendship thing’s working out already.” His eyes gleamed and I gave him a smirk.
Friendship I could do. Even his A.P. friendship. There was no point in trying to resist him physically, that would be like getting the moon to stop its rotation. But as long as it was friendship and didn’t threaten to emotionally pummel me, there might be a chance for us.
I ignored the buzz rattling around somewhere in the back of my brain warning me that friendship was based on trust, too. Did this mean I was letting him off the hook?
No. He wasn’t off the hook. If I was the only person in the world who enforced consequences on Derek Bast, so be it. I wouldn’t let his past insults slide by. But for now, whatever it was we had was safe enough.
“So where’s the surprise?” He held his palms up and looked around us.
“Do you think you can walk down the beach without being mobbed?”
He grimaced. “I can’t make any promises.”
Hiding a six foot five star built like a Greek god wouldn’t be easy, but I was determined to get him down the beach. “Okay, we need an umbrella. A beach umbrella. We’ll walk next to the dunes, so nobody will see you from our right, and you can shield us with the umbrella tilted to the left.”
“Perfect plan, my super smart companion. Now, where are we goi
ng to get a beach umbrella?” He gazed out over my head at the beach studded with them.
“Easy, my strong-armed superstar. You’re going to steal one.” I pointed to a vacated spot with towels and a beach bag under the umbrella. “They must be in the water.”
His eyes went wide. “You want me to steal an umbrella? Do you know what would happen if anyone saw me? It would be everywhere in about thirty seconds.”
I slid my glasses down my nose, dipped my chin and looked up at him over the rims. “What happened to wanting one thing—anything—to be how it used to be? I remember a night our junior year when you ‘borrowed’ a jet ski from the rental place after they closed. All I’m asking for is a stupid beach umbrella.”
He smiled so big, I got a rare dimple sighting. “Alright. Be ready to run for it.”
A mixture of nervous energy and excitement bubbled in my chest. What if he got caught? He was right, the news would take thirty seconds—probably less—to be everywhere.
Instead of darting down to the umbrella, he walked casually, like he was only going for a stroll on the beach. When he got close, he walked right up to it and pulled it out of the ground as if it was his and nobody should question what he was up to. Then he bent down and grabbed one of the towels under it, too, and shook out the sand.
I covered my mouth, hiding my laughter. He was making a good show of it, that was for sure. With calm and assured steps, he strode toward me. “Care to take a stroll with me?”
I hooked my arm through his and side-by-side, we hustled down the beach, keeping close to the dunes and hiding behind the filched umbrella. “Where are we going, anyway?” he asked.
“Just a little farther. See up ahead where the walkway off that house jets out into a cabana? I paid the owners of the house to let us use it for the day.”
Derek let out a shocked burst of laughter. “You rented us somebody’s cabana? At their house? What, you knocked on the door and said… What did you say? You didn’t tell them it was me.”
Cover Me: A Rock Star Romance Page 5