"Maybe we could have been good, Ryan. Maybe you're right." I shrugged. "But sometimes life just brings us to different places."
He shook his head with a faint smirk on his face. "We bring ourselves different places," he said.
I paused for several long seconds, feeling terrible about leaving him and leading him on. "My choice is Austin," I said, since I couldn't let myself drag it out more than I already had. My voice cracked, betraying how difficult it was for me to say those words with him standing there like that. "I'm sorry, Ryan."
"Not now you aren't, but I'm pretty sure you will be."
I let out a little humorless laugh once what he was saying hit me. "Thanks a lot," I said.
He shrugged. "Well, I'm not gonna stand here and tell you I think you're making the right decision, Wynn, because I don't. I'd love you no matter what, and I just don't think he would."
"First of all, I'm not trying to talk about love right now, since I'm still just hanging out with him. And second, you have no idea what he's like."
"He's not like me."
I let out a frustrated sigh, not knowing what to say.
"Marcus was looking for y'all!" Claire yelled from the door, announcing him before he came out. Ryan and I both looked that way to find Claire who was followed by Marcus. He was smiling, but Claire wore a worried expression like she hoped she wasn't interrupting something.
"Hey," I said, smiling as if nothing was wrong.
"The band's playing," Marcus said, looking at me. "You're gonna miss it."
I felt uncomfortable with him coming near. I was afraid he would try to kiss me or put an arm around me, and I didn't want that to happen in front of Ryan. I put a hand out to stop him from walking toward us thinking of what a huge disaster this night was shaping up to be.
"We'll be there in just a few moments," I said with a finger in the air, warning them to not come closer.
(Yes, I said moments instead of minutes because when I got nervous, I sometimes used a more formal vocabulary than normal. And since I was nervous most of the time on stage, my fans thought I was really poetic, like Shakespeare.)
"We're done here," Ryan said. "I'm gonna head on out."
I glanced at him to find that he was staring straight at Claire with a forced smile.
"Tell Charlie and Hud we'll see 'em next time."
"Hudson's leaving for Alexandria in the morning," Claire said.
Ryan shrugged. "I probably won't see him before I leave for Philly, then. That's all right, I'll text him and tell him bye."
I glanced at Claire to see her nod and make a regretful face in response to Ryan's comment. They definitely had some unspoken facial cues going on, and it agitated me. This whole interaction was making me anxious and embarrassed.
"I'll see you before you go, won't I," Claire asked Ryan.
He nodded. "I'm not leaving till next month."
She nodded and waved. She seemed anxious to usher Marcus back inside so that Ryan and I could finish up. Neither Ryan nor I spoke for the first few seconds after they went inside. I had no idea what to say.
Ryan grew up 45 minutes north of New Orleans in a town called Mandeville. I had grown up nearly an hour south of New Orleans, so it was almost two hours from my house to his. I knew this would probably be the last time I saw him before we both went on our own adventures.
Ryan had been good to me all these years. He had always cared for me and been there to remind me where to go and what to do because I was usually spacing out. I was sad to say goodbye, but him leaving after the embarrassing conversation we just had seemed like a better option than him coming back inside with me.
We stared at each other, both of us knowing this was goodbye.
"You're gonna do amazing at Penn," I said, knowing I needed to say something heartfelt. "Please tell me you'll follow through on that book you wanted to write—the Civil War one where you paralleled the two men's lives…"
I trailed off because Ryan was nodding as if I didn't need to explain any further. It was, after all, the only book idea he had ever talked about, so I just smiled and stopped talking, knowing I was rambling.
"All right," he said, casually reaching out to take a gentle swipe at me the way my boy cousins would when they'd say goodbye. "Bye, Wynn."
"Bye Wynn, with a goose to the arm?" I asked with a disbelieving grin. "That's all I get after three years?"
"All right, I'm gonna hug you, but I'm not gonna like it," he said, taking me into his long, lanky arms.
I smiled as I squeezed him tightly. "You better like it!" I said in a voice that said I was squeezing the living daylights out of him even though I wasn't really doing it that hard.
He patted me on the back a couple of times, and let go of me as he took a step back. He smiled, but I could tell it was forced. I smiled back at him anyway.
"Don't get hurt," he said, looking at me as if he really meant it.
"I won't," I assured him. "I promise."
He smiled again, and again, it didn't reach his eyes. "You're gonna make it big," he said. "One day I'll tell my kids, that I used to play with Wynn Martin, and they'll be all impressed and think I'm the coolest."
Even when he was hurt and disappointed, he was trying to make me smile. I smiled, but it was tinged with some odd feeling that hit me at the reference to his future kids. I took a deep breath, reminding myself that Marcus was right inside waiting for me. I hated myself for feeling emotional like this.
"I bet I'm gonna be the one telling my kids I played with Ryan Collins," I said.
Ryan screwed up his face. "Let's just, for the sake of my own peace of mind, say that you're running off to Austin to join a convent. No kids, okay?"
"A nun?" I asked, laughing at the thought of quirky old me walking up to a convent.
He nodded, pointing at his own head as he turned to walk away. "That's what I'm choosing to believe," he said. "Off to Austin to dedicate your life to the Lord's work."
"Even if I did dedicate my life's work to the Lord, I don't think I'd join a convent." I shrugged, imagining for a second what being a nun might be like. "Who knows, actually," I amended. "Crazier things have probably happened."
"Great," Ryan said, gesturing to the door as he walked away. "I feel much better about this than running off with that dude."
"Bye, Ryan," I called, smiling sincerely and waving at him.
"Bye, Wynn," he said, trying again to smile.
He walked backward for a few paces before turning to head to his truck.
"Bye, Ryan," I called to his back since I couldn't resist saying it one more time.
He waved from over his shoulder but didn't turn around. I felt the strangest urge to stop him, but I didn't.
I let him walk away.
I reminded myself that I was excited about all the new changes in my life—that I liked Marcus, and I was ready to give it a go musically in Austin. I sighed as I watched Ryan walk away. I'd always been sensitive to people's feelings, and the thought of hurting someone—especially someone who had been as good to me as Ryan—made me sick to my stomach. I let out one more exaggerated sigh, working up the nerve to walk back inside.
"Where'd Collins go?" Charlie asked when he saw me come back alone.
The band was playing, so he had to yell from across the table. I glanced at Claire, assuming she would have already told them Ryan left.
"They didn't ask," she said, answering my unasked question.
"He went home," I said, standing next to Marcus who was sitting on a stool.
"Home?" Charlie asked with a confused expression. "We just got here."
Right then, as if Marcus knew there was some male battle going on, he wrapped an arm around my shoulders. He pulled me in, and I looked at him and smiled. I was flat out smitten—love-struck, if you will. He smelled like exotic cologne, and I snuggled into his arms, feeling like Austin was definitely the right choice.
A few songs later, Claire excused herself to go to the ladies room, and I followed h
er, though my only intention was to talk to her.
"Why'd you let him do that?" I asked once there was enough distance between us and our table.
"Who?" Claire asked, glancing at me with a confused but defensive look on her face.
"Ryan," I said. "Why'd you let him corner me like that? I know you knew what he was saying to me out there. I could tell by the way you looked at him." I was speaking loudly over the crowd noise at first, but by the time I finished my statement, we'd reached the hallway leading to the restrooms, so I got quieter.
Claire shot me an offended glare. "He's one of your best friends, Wynn. I hope you don't really see what he did as cornering you. He just cares about you."
"Well, when I'm just starting to care about someone else, and I have all this other change going on, it felt a bit like I was being cornered."
She stopped walking before we entered the ladies room and turned to me with a serious expression. "He cares about you, Wynn, and he's a good guy."
"I know he's good, and I know he cares about me."
"You just don't care about him," she said.
I could tell she was taking up for him, and I made an injured expression. "I guess I don't, in the same way he cares about me," I said. "I almost kissed him out there just to make sure, but then I realized what a bad idea that was."
"I don't think that would have been so bad."
I scoffed at her and dropped my jaw. "Why are you so freaked out about Ryan?" I asked. "You know I'm with Marcus."
Claire shrugged a shoulder. "I guess I was just rootin' for him a little bit," she said, not looking at me. "As someone who loves you, I like the idea of you going for someone like Ryan."
"I'm gonna miss you, too, Clairebear," I said.
"I don't mean I want you to go for him just so you would stay here. I'd like to see you with someone who likes you for you, not just—" Claire cut off mid-sentence. I could tell she thought she'd already said too much.
"Not just what?" I asked, feeling hurt and confused.
"Nothing," Claire said.
"What?" I asked.
"Nothing," she repeated. "I just love you and I want what's best for you, that's all."
I hugged her. She was my best friend, and I would miss her terribly. "I love you, too, Clairebear, and I don't want you to think I'm happy about leaving you even though I'm trying to look forward to Austin."
"I don't think that," she said. She smiled at me and shrugged her shoulders a little. "You already begged me to move enough that I know you're serious about wanting me to."
"I am serious," I said. "And I still hope you'll change your mind and come with me."
Chapter 3
Two years later
Austin, TX
Claire didn't end up moving to Austin with me. She finished her degree at ULL, before moving back to New Orleans where she went to work as an artist and designer for a local ad agency.
Claire drew cartoons and did hand lettering and custom logo designs. She had done most of our band flyers over the years, and ended up with quite a bit of business with other bands designing their logos and making flyers, stickers, and album covers. She was a talented artist with a quirky, hipster style, and she was now in high demand around New Orleans.
We remained close during the last two years, checking in with each other on at least a weekly basis, and seeing each other three or four times a year between me going home and her coming to Austin.
Even though we stayed close, I didn't tell her much about what was going on with me. I told her the important things—the obvious, physical things, but I didn't really say much about my feelings. Even when I'd been living in Louisiana and saw her every day, I didn't really share my feelings. I'd never been a real share your feelings type of person. Honestly, I'd never been one to analyze my feelings at all. I did my best to remain as happy as possible in life, and did a pretty good job of dealing with any unhappiness without discussing it with another human being. I wasn't trying to be distant or unemotional, that's just how I'd always been—sort of just a space case, thinking about song lyrics and melodies.
All this to say, Claire was highly concerned when I randomly called her one afternoon from Austin, crying my eyes out.
"You're gonna have to slow down, take a deep breath, and repeat everything," Claire said quietly. "Are you in a safe place, Wynn?"
I took a shaky breath, trying to calm my nerves. I was so unaccustomed to sharing my feelings with anyone that it wasn't easy to know where to begin expressing myself.
"I'm fine," I said, calming myself down enough to talk to her. "I'm at home, and no one's trying to hurt me or anything. (sniffle) I just needed someone to talk to." I couldn't help but start to cry again when I added, "I'm probably gonna be moving back ho-o-ome."
"Honeyyy," Claire cooed in that same quiet tone. "What happened?"
"I haven't even called my mom yet, so don't say anything to anybody, (sniffle) but I think I'm gonna be moving back home."
"That's what you said, but why? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. I'm not scared for my life or anything, but…" I paused and took another shaky breath. "He's been stealing from me, Claire," I said. It was as if my body had an aversion to letting the words leave my mouth. They came out breathless and barely audible.
"What did you say?" she asked.
"I said he's been lying to me about the gigs."
"Who, Marcus?" she asked.
"Uh-huh. (sniffle) I knew something was wrong. (sniffle) I thought he was cheating on me. He's probably doing that, too."
"Can you hang on just a second?" Claire asked. I heard a rustling sound and Claire's muffled voice say, "You guys get started without me. I'll be back in a few minutes." Several more seconds passed, and I heard some more rustling. "I'm sorry," she said in an out-of-breath voice that told me she was walking.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't mean to interrupt you."
"Don't be sorry," she said. "I'm glad I heard my phone. We were just about to start a meeting. I was looking down at it to make sure it was on silent when you called. Something told me to pick up. It was probably because you always text. I didn't even know you knew how to use the phone portion of your phone."
I let out a weak little laugh that was barely audible past the swollen, puffiness of my tear-strained face.
"Tell me what happened, Wynn," she said. I could tell by her voice that she had stopped walking and was now in a quite place.
"I'm really sorry I interrupted your meeting. I had no idea you'd be at work."
She let out a little laugh. "It's two o'clock on a Tuesday," she said.
I glanced at the clock on the entertainment center. I had been on musician's time for two years, which meant I never really kept up with what day it was until I knew it was time for a gig. I wasn't accustomed to business hours. I had performed close to three hundred gigs in the last two years, which was a lot of work. I didn't shy away from the grind. If I wasn't playing a gig, then I was working on my music. I just never had a real workweek, so it didn't register that Claire might be busy when I called. Maybe in the back of my mind I knew it was Tuesday at 2 o'clock, but I just couldn't think straight right then.
"I'm sorry to bother you at work," I said.
"Don't worry about it," she said. "They love me in there. They'll totally forgive me. What's up, were you saying something about Marcus lying to you?"
I took a deep breath. "I knew something was wrong. I could tell he was hiding something from me. It got even more sketchy when I moved in with him. (sniffle) He's standoffish for no reason sometimes, and then he'll buy me something or do some sweet gesture."
"What did he do, Wynn?" she asked, obviously wanting me to get to the point.
"He's been lying to me about the gigs. (sniffle) He takes care of the contracts and all of the money and stuff. Usually, he handles everything from his office, but uh, a couple days ago, (sniffle) I ran into one of the club owners at the grocery store. She happened to have a check for me in her purs
e. She said she was planning on dropping it in the mail that afternoon. (sniffle) So, I opened it and found out that it was twice what I thought we made at that gig."
"Well, doesn't he have to pay himself and the sound guy and everybody? Aren't you playing with a band?" Claire asked since she knew perfectly well what all went into booking a gig.
"No, I mean, he shows me what he pays everybody. He's got charts and spreadsheets showing everything. I thought the same thing when I first saw the amount on the check, but that's not the case. He's lying to me." I paused and took an unsteady breath, trying not to cry. "I wanted to believe he wasn't," I said. "I hoped it was some kind of mistake, but he lied. (sniffle) About two hours ago, I heard back from a festival we booked for next spring. Marcus had just told me what my contract was for on that one, so I called to ask them myself. (sniffle) He lied to me by five thousand, Claire."
"I hope you're pressing charges," she said.
"I haven't even played the gig yet."
"Yeah, but you've got to get your money back from the past two years."
That statement seemed ludicrous to me, and I let out an uncontrollable laugh. "I thought I'd just leave without even talking to him," I said.
"Why would you do that? You need to press charges on this guy."
I let out another laugh, since pressing charges was literally the furthest thing from my mind. All I wanted was to just leave this apartment and never see Marcus Biggs again.
"No, I'm not pressing charges. (sniffle) I don't even know how to prove anything."
I put my aching head into my hand, wishing I was already away from this apartment—away from Austin, and most of all, away from Marcus. I was so out of it that, for a second, I forgot I was on the phone with Claire. I was still holding the phone to my ear, but it honestly surprised me a little when she spoke again.
"You should nail his butt on that five-thousand-dollars," she said.
I took a shuttering breath. "No, thank you," I said, my voice coming out weaker than I intended. "I just want to come home."
My One Regret (Martin Family Book 3) Page 2