My skin tingles a little at the fact that he’s calling me Harm. He must have picked that up from Jax.
“Coffee and a chat?” He arches an eyebrow and looks toward me.
“All right.” I shrug, taking a seat on the stool at the kitchen island.
Andrew turns to pour me a cup, and for the first time, I notice he’s a very attractive man as well.
His back muscles aren’t bulky, but they’re rippling.
I avert my eyes when he spins to give me my cup.
“Cream?” he offers.
“Yes, please.”
“Here you are.”
There’s an awkward pause, and I break it with, “Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
“Don’t you get mad at us for using your kitchen to hook up?”
He smiles gently.
“I don’t really care, to be honest. You two seem really happy. And hey—at least somebody’s using it.” He laughs.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He shrugs. “I mean, I don’t ever use it for that purpose. Hell, I don’t use any room for that purpose.”
A brick forms in my stomach. Aside from Andrew’s room, Jax and I have made good use of, well, just about every room in the house.
“That’s really noble of you. But why don’t you use it?”
Shaking his head slowly, he runs his thumb across his jaw. “I guess I’m sort of afraid of women, to be honest. The last girl I had, well, she was part of the reason I ended up in jail. She got me into some really bad habits. Drugs. I figure I’m better off being on my own. Staying closed off.”
Closing my eyes, I let the heat of the coffee cup seep into my hands and I inhale the rich coffee scent.
“You’re just like Jax,” I whisper, and then open my eyes wide.
I didn’t mean to say that out loud.
He squints. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“I mean, Jax didn’t want to touch a woman before me. Have you—you know. Even touched someone?”
Andrew rubs his face and audibly blows out air. “This is making me a little uncomfortable.”
I nod. “Sorry. It’s just—I can tell you’re a great guy, Andrew. You’re sort of depriving the girls of Nashville of a really interesting guy.”
Sliding my hand across the island, I let it land on his.
He recoils at first, but he takes a few deep breaths and lets me keep my hand on his.
“Thank you,” he says, keeping his eyes down. “I really appreciate that.”
“I’m being serious. Anyway, I should go.” Getting up, I grab my guitar. “See you around,” I say over my shoulder.
“Yeah. See you around.”
“Maybe next time I come over here you’ll have a girl.”
He shrugs. “Maybe.”
I let out a little chuckle as I head down the stairs.
Throughout my life, I’ve always considered myself the shy one.
But to know the problems guys like Jax and Andrew—guys who are outwardly big, muscular, and dominating—have on the inside is a weird sort of comfort to me.
Still, the distance they put up is alarming. I feel like I’m hacking through a thicket of bushes to figure out what they’re really thinking.
Pulling out my phone, I think about texting Jax, but I hesitate.
I need to let him know about moving out first.
28
Jax
On their patio, I try to keep calm while I sit across from my mother and her new husband.
I don’t mind that my coffee has turned cold, because my appetite is nonexistent.
My mother is pretty, with brown hair and wise eyes. It’s been years since I’ve last seen her, but she looks the same to me as she did when I saw her years ago, before my sentencing.
My back stiffens as the three of us eye each other without saying a word.
Her husband clears his throat. “Do you need anything else?”
I shake my head. So does my mom.
“I’ve got papers to grade, so I’m going to get working on those. I’ll leave you two. Let me know if you need anything.”
“So, honey,” she finally says, bringing her eyes up to catch mine. “How are you?”
My thoughts swirl with anger. “How am I? Are you serious?”
She plays with a pendant hanging over her heart.
“I’m just trying to make conversation. This is as awkward for me as it is for you.”
I roll up the sleeves of my button-down.
“Let’s just get to it then,” I say, doing my best not to let my voice shake. “Why’d you do it? Why’d you leave me?”
Closing her eyes tightly, she hesitates. A tear streams down her cheek. “Honey.”
Scooting her chair closer to me, she puts a hand on my shoulder. I recoil.
“I have a thing about being touched,” I say.
“Oh. Apologies.”
I settle back into my chair. “Go on.”
“Do you remember? I was heavily addicted when I left. I tried to help you and your sister, but it was worthless. The more I tried, the more I felt like I was no use.”
My expression tightens, and I loosen my collar.
“So you just left? We could have helped you. We could have done something for you.”
Pursing her lips, she shakes her head. “No. You couldn’t have. I got to that point in life because I wasn’t able to fix myself—and definitely not in the same toxic environment where all my triggers were. I was barely being a mother to you two. I don’t expect you to understand this, but there was no other choice for me. But I thought about you two every single day.”
“You thought about my sister more than me, evidently.”
She hangs her head. “I’m not proud of that. But Jax, after you ended up in prison, I knew I had to take her out of that environment too. Or else she’d end up like I did.”
Clenching my hands, I say, “Well, you know what would have been nice? If you didn’t totally cut me out of your life.”
She looks ashamed. “I’m not proud of what I did to you. But knowing the horrible influence your father was after he got sent away from prison—”
“You’d just pretend I never existed.” My voice is drenched in venom, and I see my mom start to quiver.
“Please don’t say it like that,” she says. “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
“What the hell did you think would happen when you took away my only sister and disappeared me from her life—and yours?”
She touches her forehead. “I knew you’d be strong. Stronger. You’d have to be cut off from us sooner or later.”
My nostrils flare. “So your rationale for cutting me out of your life,” I begin, “is that I’d become stronger?”
I stand up and pace around the patio. The fresh ocean air is a direct contrast to the grimness I’m feeling.
My jaw slackens, and I turn to her with my hands on my hips. “What the hell is this, some Johnny Cash song?”
She squints at me. “What on earth are you talking about?”
“‘A Boy Named Sue’? You never heard of that song?”
She shakes her head.
“It doesn’t even matter.” I collapse back into my chair, feeling sick.
Leaning forward, my mom puts her hand on my knee. “Look, Jax. I know things haven’t worked out well for most of us up until now. But we can change the future. I have a law degree and teach at the Monterey Institute of International Studies. Your sister is going to school at Vanderbilt. I even practice law on the side. We can change our—”
“Stop.” I hold out a hand.
“What?”
“Did you just say Kennedee is at Vanderbilt?”
She nods. “She just finished her freshman year and she’s still there for the summer.”
My heart races, and suddenly I’m ultra-awake.
And it’s got nothing to do with the cold coffee I haven’t been drinking.
For the fi
rst time in a long time, the thought crosses my mind that maybe there is a purpose for things.
Maybe there’s a reason I pulled up to LaRisa’s bar.
There’s a reason Harm’s stepmom forgot to give her a ride home—so I could.
“By the way, Jax. I have to ask. What drove you to come visit right here and now? And how’d you find the place?”
I look up at her with my eyes wide. “A girl asked me if I loved her, and I couldn’t tell her yes. I was afraid the moment I told her that it would be the end of our love.”
She shivers, frowning, and stands up.
“Oh, God. What have I done? Come here.”
She pulls me in for a hug, and I flinch, holding back.
“I’m so, so sorry, Jax.”
“I need to take a walk,” I manage, unable to lower my defenses.
I get up and leave.
I head around the block, my hands on top of my head as I wander the streets with no destination in mind.
The tragedy of the last few years settles into my soul. I have every reason to hold out against my mother. A huge part of me feels like I wouldn’t have wasted away for over a year, rotting in a prison cell, if she’d never left.
And I’m not going to accept her apology lickety-split because she gets all teary-eyed.
Clenching my fists, I head toward the beach.
The sound of a guitar lures me closer to the sand. My ears perk up when I hear the chords being strummed.
Turning a corner, I see the source of the music: a shaggy-haired, skinny blond guy with his shirt off. He can’t be a day over twenty.
I stop in front of him and feel goosebumps when I realize what song he’s playing.
Waiting for the moonlight
Waiting for the sun
You’ll do that thing tomorrow
But tomorrow never comes
Yeah, tomorrow never comes
You fell behind in the race
The cards never fell into place
Blame it all on the dealer
Blame it all on the draw
You’ll get better cards tomorrow
But tomorrow never comes
Yeah, tomorrow never comes
I watch him, totally transfixed.
As he sings the last verse, a wave of emotion hits me so hard I have to sit down.
I’m dizzy, lightheaded, and flushed with energy all at once.
I run my hand over my forehead and close my eyes tight.
Just then, I feel a hand on my shoulder. “Hey man, you all right?”
Blinking my eyes open, I see the guitarist. “You need a water or something? You don’t look well.”
“Why are you singing that song?” I ask him.
His blue eyes sparkle in the sunlight. “What kind of question is that?”
I shrug, and then I grab his forearm. “An easy one.”
“Well, uh, I guess because it was my ex-girlfriend’s favorite song. Just felt like singing it today, really.”
Taking a deep breath, I let go of him.
I let go of everything, of this grudge I’ve been keeping for so long that it’s burned a whole in my heart.
Maybe my mom is just a mixed-up person trying to do the best she can too.
I could go on feeling like this forever. I could tell myself I’ll forgive her tomorrow, that I’ll get my mind clear tomorrow.
But when tomorrow gets here, it’s today.
Tomorrow never comes.
My feelings of conflict fall away, and my heart fills with warmth, love, and harmony.
Harmony.
I picture her warm, kind face framed by long brown hair. The way her cheeks and eyes participate in her smile. Harmony is a being who knows nothing else in her heart except to love. From the start, that’s all she’s offered me. She didn’t ask for any conditions. She just beamed and loved.
Holy shit. Do I love Harm too?
Do I love her already?
Isn’t a month too little time to fall in love with a person?
Adrenaline rejuvenates me.
Fuck the rules. Fuck how long something “should” take.
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out a twenty and put it into blondie’s tip jar.
“That’s a good song. A Harmony Lane original,” I say, and then I take off walking toward my mom’s house. The dark becomes light in my eyes.
Chaos becomes reason.
I can keep being bitter, but where is that going to get me?
Plus, as fucked up as the last few years have been, if I didn’t go through them, I would have never met Harmony.
And last but not least, fuck my bullshit upbringing that keeps me stingy with my love.
Arriving at my mom’s place, I hammer on the door.
She opens it.
I greet her with a big hug.
I should call Harm right now. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I grip it to call her, feeling bad that in this moment with my mom I’m thinking about Harm.
But I can’t help it.
When we pull away from the hug, my mom’s smile is warm.
“I’m really, really sorry,” she says, wiping a tear away. “Will you accept my apology?”
I nod.
“Thank you,” she says. “And whatever you need from now on, I’m here for you.”
“Actually,” I say, “do you know any good copyright lawyers?”
“Of course. What do you need?”
“A good lawyer for a copyright case.”
She squints. “What sort of copyright case?”
Feeling my phone buzz, I flip it over in my hand to see it.
My heart damn near drops to my feet when I swipe my phone open and read the message from Harm.
Hey, I know you’ve been running around doing your stuff, but I got an opportunity to move in with a friend, so I took it. Let’s talk soon.
Hunching over, my body suddenly feels very, very heavy. My chest tingles, and I put my hand over my heart.
“Jax, are you okay?” my mom asks.
I shake my head, stealing words from Harm. “I think I might be sick.”
29
Harmony
The next day, Fiona and I head out to the waterfall outside the city and enjoy a day in the wilderness.
My urge to disconnect from the stress of life is strong, and, in an act of rebellion, we leave our cell phones at home for the day.
Hiking through the forest, the wind rustles through the trees, and though we’re in the dead of hot summer in Nashville, the leaves and the shade provide us with a respite from the heat.
Fiona and I walk in silence until she finally speaks up. “You’re quiet.”
I shrug. “It’s just so nice in here. No need to speak, really.”
She nods. “So how did Jax take it?”
I don’t want to admit that after sending the text to Jax about moving out, I’d had a freakout, thrown my phone into airplane mode, and pushed this trip to the wilderness in large part because I didn’t want to handle his callback.
“Fine,” I lie. “He understands.”
“Oh, well, that’s good. Water?” She hands me her bottle and I take a swig.
“Yeah. We’re totally, absolutely . . .” I clear my throat. “Fine and good.”
She squints as we continue trudging. “Well, is it?”
I recoil. “Is it what?”
“Is it too good to be true?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug and then blurt out: “Roddy sure was too good to be true.”
She halts, and her mouth hangs open.
“Roddy? You’re still letting that asshat affect your thought process? That was like four years ago.”
A hot afternoon breeze sweeps over us from between the trees. I refuse to acknowledge that such an asshole as Roddy is still affecting me.
“So you’re saying that’s not suspicious at all that Jax just up and left for California all of the sudden? I mean, what the hell is that?” I ask.
“What are you really a
fraid of?” she returns, taking a step closer to me.
“We fell into this thing so fast,” I answer. “What if he’s going to visit another woman?”
“Phew. Wow. That’s just . . . that’s not good if you’re thinking that. So you don’t trust him.”
“I do trust him. But the thought has crossed my mind.”
“Because of Roddy.”
“Maybe.”
We resume our walk along the trail. Handing the water bottle back to Fiona, I fidget with my hands as we step along.
“Roddy messed you up, didn’t he?”
“Not as much as Jax messed me up,” I add.
“Is messing you up,” she corrects.
When we’re done with our walk, we take the sandwiches out of the cooler and eat. Fiona pulls out a romance novel, and I grab my guitar and notebook and go sit under a tree.
A whiff of the forest hits me with its leafy, fresh scent, and I’m brought back to the very first time Jax and I crossed the line, in the crystalline waters of Old Salt Creek.
On the guitar, I find a chord that makes me think of water. It’s a minor, and the song starts out a little tragic. I put the hook on it and give it a little bit of hope, at least.
Damn. It doesn’t sound half bad.
Putting my guitar aside, I start to scribble.
Messed-up heart
You and me, we were meant to be
From the start, all we had is heart
Kissing on a Friday under a tree
Never crossed my mind how things fall apart
Even the best guys have a dark side
My heart never beat harder than that night
You took me underwater like the strongest tide
Our love was so perfect, we lost sight
My heart skipped a beat when that tide rolled in hard
Yeah, and you messed up my heart
Yeah, my messed-up heart
Will never be the same
My pen flies across the page at lightning speed.
Picking up my guitar, I play the chords I’d come up with and sing the lyrics as I strum.
Holy crap.
This doesn’t sound half bad.
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