I frowned, the lines deepening on my forehead the longer he kept talking. “You’re right. None of that sounds like her.” And when she told me about going to school on the coast, she never mentioned that it was something she had to do. “I’ll ask Daire to check on her and see if she can figure out what’s really going on with her.”
He sighed and reached up to fully pull his hat off his head. Immediately a lock of wayward black hair fell across his forehead and obscured his one blue eye. “All these girls got us worrying about them. It’s exhausting. It feels like a full-time job.”
I chuckled, my gaze flicking across the parking lot as the front doors to the industrial building that housed Bowe’s practice space finally opened. The girl with the bright red pigtails who played the keyboards was the first one out. She was followed by the Hispanic guy who played the drums. He was a big dude and was covered in some pretty impressive tattoo work. I particularly liked the big Mayan-style bird that covered the front of his neck. Aside from Bowe, he was really the only other band member who stood out to me. He had a big personality and equally big passion. They both shined through, even though he was hidden behind a massive drum set.
Bowe and the purple-haired guy were nowhere to be seen.
“My dad would say the reason we appreciate the women in our lives as much as we do is because they make us work so hard for everything. The effort put in is returned double.” I chuckled again and reached for the door handle. “He says the same thing about practice. He always tells me if I want to be rewarded for the work put in, it needs to hurt, and it should never be easy. I gotta go.” The person who required the most work and my undivided attention was finally stepping out of the building, and the asshole punk rock guy was hot on her heels. I could tell she was still irritated at him, but that didn’t stop the guy from talking her ear off as she turned to lock the door to the building. “I’ll let you know if Daire finds out anything about Aston, and I’ll give you a call when I’m on my way back to Colorado.”
“And maybe fill me in on exactly what is this unfinished business between you and Bowe. I feel like there are all kinds of secrets we’re suddenly keeping from each other. I don’t like it at all.”
I hung up the video call without bothering to answer him. My sneakers hit the asphalt silently as I stalked toward Bowe, who was making her way across the parking lot, the bass player in tow. They both looked at me when I called her name. Even though it was dark and the lighting sucked, I thought I saw a flash of relief flicker across her gaze. There was no doubt about it; the punk rocker looked at me like he wanted to use my intestines as a replacement wallet chain.
“Hey. Are you ready to head home?” I stopped in front of them and watched as Bowe let out a breath she was holding.
Before she could speak, the guy lurking behind her piped up. “I’ll take you home, Bowe. Didn’t you say you were hungry? Let’s grab something to eat, and I’ll drop you off after we’re done.”
I watched as she rolled her eyes and obviously tried to keep herself from biting his head off as she gritted out through clenched teeth, “No, thank you. Since Ry is here and he’s not familiar with Austin, I’m just going to ride with him. You go ahead and have a good night.”
Her hands tightened into fists at her sides as she took a step closer to me. Her cheeks were pink, and there was a muscle jumping in her cheek as she struggled to keep her temper in check.
“I’ll see you at practice tomorrow, Nyle. I really hope we have a better one than we did tonight. There’s no way the band in that room today can open for another group. We’d get booed off the stage.” I jolted a little when she suddenly reached out and grasped my forearm. I couldn’t read the expression in her eyes, but her body language was practically begging me to get her away from him as soon as possible. “Let’s go.”
I allowed her to drag me toward the truck. I could feel the daggers that Nyle was staring into my back the entire way. Once she reached the passenger’s side of the big vehicle, she dropped her hold on my arm and suddenly turned to face me.
I was about to ask her if she was okay and if there was anything I could do, when she reached up and grabbed a handful of my t-shirt, pulling me down so that we were eye-level.
“Don’t read anything into this, Ry. I’m desperate, and there is only one way to get that guy to back off.”
I wasn’t ready for her lips to land on mine.
She was the first girl I ever kissed, but that sloppy, uncoordinated attempt felt like a lifetime ago. Back then, she kissed me because she lost a dare. Then, I kissed her to quiet her down during an absurd argument, and she promptly slapped me across the face. Before either of us knew what was happening, our arguments would often end with us making out. Each kiss leading to something more, something neither of us were prepared to deal with. Sleeping with her when we were teenagers was my favorite memory and my worst regret. I often wondered if we’d waited, if we’d managed to keep our impulses in check until we grew into our complex and confusing feelings for each other, if we would’ve become something that would last a lifetime… like our parents.
We’d both learned some finesse and acquired some skill in the years that had gone by. But it felt like kissing for the first time all over again because the way she lit me up from the inside out had only happened once before—with her. She made me forget where I was, who I was, what I thought I was. All I could focus on when my mouth was on hers was the way our breath mingled and the soft give of her lips under mine. She was sweet back then; she was a bit spicier now, but the way my heart kicked and my pulse pounded as we kissed were exactly the same. It was all incredibly familiar but brand new at the same time. It was as if she woke up every good memory of the two of us, and they rushed to the forefront of my mind. While they danced there, it was impossible to recall all the bad ones she starred in.
I felt her hand tighten on my shirt and a little sigh escape her lips as I pressed closer, wanting to taste more of her. Almost as if it had a mind of its own, my tongue darted out and flicked eagerly across the seam of her lips. I wanted inside. I wanted her warmth, and the damp press of her tongue twisted against mine. I felt her gasp, and a second later, her hand was on the center of my chest, and she pushed me backward with enough force I nearly stumbled.
Before, I was the one who pushed her away metaphorically. Now, she was doing it physically. It wasn’t a good feeling, and I got a hint of why she was so mad at me back then when I’d handled everything all wrong.
I was disoriented, caught between the past and the present, locked in the middle of a memory and reality. Back then, I was the one who shocked her by stealing a kiss when she least expected it. Today, she definitely returned the favor.
While I stared down at her blankly, she looked over my shoulder and gave a satisfied smile at whatever she saw. I glanced back and noticed we were alone in the parking lot. I figured she was happy she finally got rid of the bass player.
When I turned my head back around to ask her what had just happened, I wasn’t ready for her hand to shoot up and grab my face between her fingers hard enough that it hurt.
“What was that, Archer? You had a girlfriend like two days ago, and you’re supposed to be brokenhearted. I told you not to read anything into it. Desperate times call for desperate measures, but you went too far.” She squished my cheeks and rocked my face back and forth. “Why are you so well-behaved with everyone else on the planet but not with me?” She let go of my face and touched her fingers to her lips.
I couldn’t tell if she was trying to wipe the kiss away or if she was trying to hold the imprint of it there.
“I don’t know why I’m only different when I’m with you.” But that was one of the reasons I’d headed to Austin without any kind of plan or forethought the moment I was lost and questioning everything.
Maybe spending some time with her would help me finally find an answer to her question. And maybe I could figure out if the real me was the one everyone else saw or the one who wanted
to kiss her again more than I wanted to make it to the Super Bowl.
Bowe
I LET OUT a startled shriek when my headphones were suddenly pulled off. I was alone in my dad’s recording studio and had been for hours. I knew he didn’t have anyone scheduled today, which was why I’d opted to work in his studio and use his superior equipment instead of the basic setup I had at home.
I put a hand to my racing heart and glared at my dad as he plopped down in the expensive leather seat next to mine in front of the computer and soundboard.
I didn’t have a regular part-time job like most young adults my age. I made money by creating beats and samples that I sold to aspiring musicians who might not be as deft with music as I was. It was a pretty lucrative venture and kept me afloat for the most part. I also got to work as much or as little as I wanted, got to play around with different genres and sounds, and it allowed me to interact with other musicians all over the world. I was never going to get rich or famous doing it, but it allowed me devote most of my free time to my band and songwriting.
My dad chuckled and reached out to flick the end of my nose. It was something he’d done since I was young and always made me giggle in response. I wiggled the tip in response and reached up to rub the ticklish spot.
“What are you doing here? I looked at the schedule before I came in, and it said the studio was supposed to be empty today.”
My dad leaned back in the chair and kicked out his long legs. He still looked like a rockstar even if he spent less time playing in front of crowds screaming his name these days. His dark hair was a bit too long. His black jeans were a tad too tight and ripped even more than mine. He had his wedding ring on his left hand, but he also wore a mix of other rings on his other fingers. Most of his visible skin sported some kind of tattoo. His journey through life was very much engraved on his skin, and I thought that was beautiful. His t-shirt was faded and depicted a screaming Valkyrie stabbing a fiery sword through a pile of skeletons. I was sure it was a band tee, one I’d probably borrowed from his closet when he was out of town once or twice before. He was always the coolest parent at any school function, and not just because he was such a good-looking man. He had a unique swagger and more style than most dads. He was a bit edgier and more unconventional than a dad who worked forty hours a week for a corporation to support his family. He was more colorful, and in my opinion, way more talented and gifted than most dads.
I always wanted to be just like him when I was growing up, and that hadn’t changed much now that I was old enough to make my own life decisions.
“I saw you come in on the security feed. You haven’t been by the house in a while, and your mom and I don’t want to seem overbearing and intrude on your personal space by showing up at your house. We were waiting for an invite, but since you don’t seem in any hurry to give one, I figured I’d swing by and see what you’re up to.” He wiggled his dark eyebrows at me. “Plus, Rule asked me to check up on Ry. I never thought he’d turn into the uptight type when it came to his kids. He was such a hellraiser back in the day.”
I laughed and pulled some of my hair out from under the band of the headphones. “You could just call Ry directly. Uncle Rowdy did. He actually came by the house and picked him up today to go do some kind of football-slash-guy stuff. Ry seemed pretty happy to see him.”
My dad’s best friend Rowdy St. James, his wife Salem, and their two kids had moved down to Austin when I was in middle school, right around the time the twins were born. Rowdy, who worked with Ry’s dad and another friend from high school, Nash Donovan, had offered to move to Texas when Uncle Rule and Nash decided to open another tattoo shop outside of Colorado. They picked Austin because it was a hip town, filled with college kids and young professionals. The nightlife was crazy here, and many of the tattoo shops were open much later here than they were in Colorado. The fact that my folks were already based here was also a big factor. Both my Uncle Rowdy and his beautiful wife had grown up in a small town not too far from Austin, so it was a homecoming of sorts. I was friends with their daughter, Glory, but she was a competitive figure skater and always super busy. Her dedication to the sport actually reminded me a little bit of Ry. They had the same kind of drive and single-minded determination to be the very best at whatever they did. She was a bit intense for my taste, but we still hung out whenever her packed schedule allowed. I heard she was trying to qualify for the next Olympic trials, so I hadn’t seen or heard from her in a long time.
“I was going to call him, but your Uncle Rule told me not to. He wanted me to check up on Ry, but not let Ry know he was hovering. And I didn’t want to put the kid on the spot. I’ve known him since he was in diapers, but that doesn’t mean I’m cool with him camping out at my daughter’s place. I get that you’re on your way to being a grownup, but the idea of my baby girl being alone with any man… kicks all my fatherly instincts into overdrive.” He gave me a sheepish grin as he twirled the big platinum and diamond ring on his thumb around in a circle. “Why don’t you convince him to come with you over to the house for dinner one night? Your mom would love to see you both, and I’m sure Yves and Zola would be ecstatic to have the company. You know how stir-crazy they get in the summer.”
I rolled my eyes because I did know exactly how hyper the two teenage girls got when they were out of school for summer break. They used to go to summer camp or play sports when we didn’t go to Denver, but this year they were old enough to get part-time jobs, so I thought they wouldn’t be home as much. It sounded like they were still there enough to have my dad looking for a reprieve.
“I’ll see if he wants to come by. He’s probably tired of eating takeout. I don’t think he’s used to Texas-sized portions. He went jogging yesterday even though he’s technically on vacation and not supposed to be training, and he most definitely isn’t used to the Texas heat. He hasn’t decided when he’s going back to Denver yet, but I think he wants to hang around until after we play our first big show.” I wasn’t sure why, but the idea of having Ry in the crowd made me almost as anxious as knowing my dad would be there.
Things had been a bit awkward between us since we kissed outside the rehearsal space.
If I’d been thinking clearly and hadn’t been so irritated at Nyle, there is no way in hell I would’ve let my lips get anywhere near his. I knew just how dangerous it was. I knew exactly how quickly a simple kiss with him could spiral out of control. I knew how quickly I could lose my head when he had his hands and mouth on me.
The one good thing to come out of my impulsive action was Nyle definitely got the message to back off. He’d been sullen and moody at every practice since that night, but he’d stopped hounding. It was a shame he couldn’t stay in the friend-zone because I really did like him. I just wasn’t interested in him romantically. A fact made even more abundantly clear now that Ry was back in the picture.
Ry was the only boy who ever made me feel like my skin was too tight and like I couldn’t breathe just by being close to him. He was the only one who made my fingertips tingle and got me all kinds of curious and interested when other parts of my body that had always been disinterested started to feel warm and wide awake. I knew, logically, he was a very attractive guy, so it was normal to be attracted to him. I just couldn’t figure out why he was literally the only guy I’d ever wanted. I’d had to kiss a lot of substitutes to figure out the buzz underneath my skin only happened when Ry’s lips were on mine. I was determined to prove I could feel some kind of way about a guy who wasn’t him, but I’d yet to be successful—much to my endless frustration.
“How’s practice coming along? Are you getting excited for your first real show? I remember how nervous I was when we had our first big gig. I think I threw up at least three times before I went on stage, but once we were done with our set, I knew exactly what I was meant to do for the rest of my life.” He put a hand on his chest and tapped over his heart. “There’s nothing like playing live music in a packed venue.”
I took the h
eadphones from around my neck and shifted my gaze away from his. I reached out to pick at the frayed knee of my jeans. “I’m super excited, but…” I’d had an uneasy feeling in my gut at each practice after Ry’s stinging words about our set being lackluster. “I’m starting to worry we might not be good enough.”
My dad frowned a little and leaned forward. “Why? You’ve always been so confident about your music and your specific sound. You’ve always known what you wanted to say with your songs. What changed?”
I deliberated on how much of the truth I should tell him. He was a fellow musician and would understand why I was concerned, but he was also my dad and could be overprotective. I didn’t want him to get upset at Ry for being honest when that was exactly what I’d asked him to do.
“I brought Ry to one of my practices. He wasn’t very impressed. Granted, we had a bit of an off night, but what he said about how we sounded got under my skin. He’s always managed to do that pretty easily, though.”
“Hmm… criticism is part of the game, baby girl. There is no such thing as a perfect song. Some people will love it, and it will change their lives. Some people will hate it and tell you that you should never sing again. Some people will be your fans from the very start and stick with you through thick and thin. Some will only be there at the start and lose interest as you grow and evolve. You gotta learn how to listen to what critics say without internalizing it.” He gave me a lopsided grin and reached out to smooth a piece of purple hair behind my ear. “I may have smacked a music reviewer or two before I learned that lesson myself. I know it’s hard to separate something you put your heart and soul into from the rest of your life and not let sharing it with others affect your self-worth. You’re a tough kid, and you’ve wanted this since you were little. I think you’ll be fine once you get a little more experience under your belt.”
Fortunate Son Page 8