Let Me Go

by Michelle Lynn

  I shake my head and scoff. “Isn’t that the truth? My life wasn’t exactly like Full House.”

  “But Paige, whatever’s going on in that woman brain of yours, trust your instincts. They are usually right. You’re a bright girl and you’ll make a good decision.” He smiles. “Who knows, maybe I haven’t found my one and only.”

  “The problem I have, maybe not everyone wants to find them,” I say, patting his leg as I stand up to stare out the window.

  “Paige, spend the night. I’ve never seen you so conflicted. Tell your old man what’s going on.” He stands up and his reflection through the glass shows him stalking toward me.

  Turning around, his eyebrows drawing together show how concerned I’m making him. “There’s just this guy, my roommate.”

  “I’m not sure I like the sound of that.”

  I laugh. “Yep and that’s why we’re going to stop there and I’m going to leave.” I begin roaming back to the door. “Sorry for interrupting you.”

  “You never interrupt me, baby. I’m going back on tour in a few weeks. Come by and have dinner before.” I rotate around when I reach the big wooden doors, and he’s smiling down at me.

  “Sure.”

  “You have enough money?” His eyes look me up and down. “You need new clothes? Anything, just ask. You know that.” He assures me, but I hate asking for so much from him. I know he can afford it, but he pays my tuition, my car, my rent, practically my mom’s rent with the extra. My dad has never once lied to me. As hurtful as the truth was to hear, he never skirted around a rumor or anything in his life. I’m not about to deceive him and take more money from him to put in the hands of my mother, that would be dishonest. I already have guilt for giving her part of my monthly allowance.

  “I know, Dad. Thanks.” I smile and he wraps his arms around my shoulders. Inhaling his scent one more time, I back away and open the door.

  “I love you, kid.” He places his pointer finger under my chin and brings it up. “Since the day you were born.” He winks and a small smile begins to form across my lips.

  “I love you, too.” I step out of my dad’s house more confused than when I walked in. He’s living proof that stereotypes are gray. No one would believe that Greg Thompson, lead guitarist of The Raptures, was sweet and kind. He’s known for the fights he gets into, trashing hotel rooms, and sleeping with every groupie that lines up outside his door. But with his out-of-wedlock daughter, he’s gentle, caring, and loves with his whole heart.

  Pulling out of his driveway, I’m alarmed when another car’s headlights shine in my view. When I stop, wanting to check if it’s Hank or Len, his band mates, I spot a bleach-blonde not much older than myself circling through. She catches me and slams on her brakes, shooting me a death stare before speeding up the paved path.

  Some things will never change.

  Driving the hour back to campus, flickers of Rob’s multiple personalities flash in my brain. He’s so nice and attentive sometimes. Then one word or movement and it’s like I’m back to square one with him. I’m not sure I want the drama in my life, but for some reason he lures me to him. As though he’s weaving a web around me and I can’t free myself from his grip. Worse is that I’m not sure I want to.

  I’VE SEARCHED MY brain all night to figure out how to get Paige to forgive me. It was an asshole move and I knew it the minute I left that stage. The problem is, when anyone tugs at my heart, it’s a reflex to drive that person away. For some reason though, with Paige, I give a shit what she thinks of me.

  After we played our set, I left Aces and came back home with the hope she’d be sprawled on the couch watching television. She wasn’t, so I holed myself up in my room, flipping through channels on the television until I heard her car, followed by her footsteps through the back door and trudging up the stairs. Her shadow was visible outside my door, and I hoped for a moment she’d knock, I’d apologize, and we could go back to the budding friendship we started. Instead she continued down the hall and her door silently shut. I lay awake most of the night, rehashing all the reasons to stay away from our escalating flirtatious relationship. To distance myself from her, let her realize the asshole I am.

  When the shower starts up, I escape my room and go downstairs. Dex and Chrissy are still sleeping soundly after staying out most of the night with Sadie and Brady. I scramble her eggs runny like she prefers, toast a few pieces of bread and place the plate on the table with a glass of orange juice. Grabbing a piece of paper and pen, I jot down a small note, and disappear to my garage.

  Why can’t I allow her to believe in the false persona I mask for everyone else?

  With it still being so early, I position my earbuds in and crank up Linkin Park. Rolling under my car, I double-check she’s good for racing tonight. Drag racing has been my release since last year. You’d think the opposite, that after the accident with Carly, I’d never purposely speed, but the high speeds and winning, distract me until the end. The control I manifest with the steering wheel in my palms when I cross that finish line, and the fact my body is intact pisses me off. My therapist says it’s normal, some lame excuse of a survivor’s guilt. She assures me it will end, but I desperately want the imprisonment of my happiness to remain with me for the rest of my life.

  Drowning in my problems, I’m abruptly yanked from under the car. Before I practically roll down the damn driveway, my feet skid the wheels to a stop. “What the fuck?” I stand up, tearing out my earbuds, and scowl to the responsible party.

  There she stands, smirking while she taps the white piece of paper against her lips. “So.”

  As happy I am to see her denying the smile that wants to break from her lips and the fact she’s about to forgive me for last night elates me, the other Rob perches strong on my shoulder to squash it.

  I trail back up the driveway, with my roller tucked under my grip. “So? You almost killed me.” I toss the cart against the cement and grab a wrench.

  “Deservedly so.” I catch the shrug of her shoulders on the way back over to the car. Opening the hood, I distract myself from her long legs.

  “Paige, I’m an ass. What can I say, except that I’ll be one again?” She reads my note word for word and I hide the smirk that wants to break. “Not very apologetic if you ask me.” She raises her eyebrows and sits down in the white plastic chair, propping her foot up, hugging her leg into her body.

  From the corner my eye, I spot her upper thigh exposed now and I shift my stance to adjust myself. “I said I was sorry last night, and you still walked away.”

  She stands up and leans over the car. “I was mad. I’m not a very good talker when I get angry.” She places her hand on my hand. “Thank you for breakfast.”

  I face her; amazed she’s going to let this go. Not dig into it twenty times over. “That’s it?” I ask her and she smiles, nodding her head.

  “Yep.” She begins walking out of the garage and suddenly this rush of wanting her near overtakes me.

  “Wait!” I call out and she spins around. Jesus, her nipples are practically popping out on display from the morning chill in the air. Breaking the distance, I try to keep my eyes focused on her face. “What are you doing tonight?” Not sure why the question even comes out, but it does.

  Her feet shuffle, and my eyes remain fixed on her lips. Her tongue snakes out and I’m positive my dick just saluted. But not wanting to check, I patiently wait for her to answer. “Um . . .” She stalls and can I really blame her.

  “I swear to you, I’ll make up for last night.” I reach for her hand but she wraps it around her stomach. Shit, there are her tits again, begging for my attention.

  “Breakfast was enough, thank you.” She nods, twisting around and disappears into the house.

  I don’t go after her; instead I stand in the driveway regretting every decision I’ve made when it comes to her. When I finally come back to present, I step into the garage and throw the socket wrench at the wall. “Fuck,” I mutter. Pacing back and forth along the
length of my Mustang, I contemplate what the hell to do. Maybe a drive out to my hometown, talk to my mom would do the trick. Something to confirm the nightmare I made and convince me to stay the hell away from Paige. Leave her intact for someone else to love instead of the torment I’m sure to drag her through.

  Noticing Dex’s truck blocking my way, I sit on the chair, my leg bouncing a mile a minute. Fuck, what am I supposed to do? I want her to come with me, watch me race.

  “You’re thinking pretty damn hard there.” Brady runs up the driveway, panting.

  I roll my eyes at the sweat dripping down his face. “Did you turn the wrong way?” I don’t peer up to him, and he walks over to the fridge and grabs a water. “Help yourself.”

  “Don’t mind if I do.” He twists the bottle open and I really hope he doesn’t lecture me today. I’m not in the mood for it. I swear him and my mom have phone conversations about me.

  He sits down on the garage floor and stares up at me. “So, I have a question for you.” I glance through the corner of my eye and suck in a deep breath.

  “What?” I sigh and sit up straighter in the chair.

  “Will you be a groomsman?” He smiles and I do to. Although marriage might not be in the cards for me, it suits Brady. He and Sadie had that ever after thing lined up a month after meeting.

  “Really going through with it? The whole forever until death thing,” I razz him and he chuckles. I’m envious of the guy, no qualms whatsoever. He’s a different guy than me though, that’s for sure.

  “Yep. I am.”

  “Sadie okay with it?”

  “Yeah, she’s fine with it. There’s only one thing.” His lips straighten and I know the favor before it leaves his mouth. “Grant is my best man.”

  I scratch my head, knowing I need to make amends with Grant and Jessa eventually, but the thought of doing so is as welcoming as an electric chair. “I’ll go over there this week.” Brady’s done way too much for me not to reciprocate.

  “Thanks. I really appreciate it.” He stands up, stretching his legs. “It’s about time we get it all done with anyway, and my wedding is the perfect occasion.” He laughs and I don’t.

  “You do know it’s the event of the year. I mean people can’t stop waiting by their mailboxes for the invitation,” I joke, because Sadie has gone overboard on this wedding planning. When I lived over there, I swear she was on the phone everyday with someone about a mundane detail.

  “She just wants it perfect.” Brady excuses his fiancée’s bridezilla mannerisms.

  “Yeah, I know.” I stand up, stepping toward him. “Thank you, I’m honored you asked.” He nods and smiles.

  “Sadie had so many girls, I had to fill in.” A small smirk crosses his lips and we both know neither one of us are going to be sappy about this shit. He asked and I accepted. The end.

  “I’ll take care of it.” I inhale a deep breath, running my hand over my face. “I may bring Sadie with me.”

  His eyes light up. “That’s a good idea, actually. Let me know when you—”

  I wave him off. “No, I got this,” I assure him and he nods.

  “Okay, well now you’ll be added to the email list. Prepare yourself, you get info daily.” He shrugs his shoulders because he has no control of Sadie’s actions.

  Never wanting to give him too hard of a time with his fiancée, I shout down the driveway. “I’ll welcome them.”

  He lifts his arm up and waves at me while continuing to jog down the driveway.

  I watch Brady disappear into his house, and Paige exits ours. Not allowing her out of my sight again, I steadily stride toward her, and her steps quicken to her car. As her hand reaches for the handle, I step in front blocking her. She crosses her arms over her chest and stares out to the street. “Truce?” I offer and she huffs.

  She gives me her attention and her eyes pin me to the car. “Rob, I’m not into playing games.”

  I hold my hands up. “Me either. Please come tonight, I’d love to show you what my racing is all about.” I shoot a cheesy smile her way and she weakens slightly.

  Biting her lip to keep from smiling, I laugh. “Come on.” I pout my lip out and she rolls her eyes.

  “Fine.” She pokes me in the chest. “This is your last chance Rob, got it?” she pokes again and before I can grab her finger she yanks it back.

  “Be ready at six.” She arches her eyebrows at me. “Please.”

  “I guess you’ll find out at six.” She motions with her finger to step aside and I don’t want to push my luck.

  She backs her car out down the driveway, and I stand there watching her taillights until the sleek black car whirls around the corner.

  I LEAVE THE safety of the shower, wrap a towel around me, and rub my arm against the cloudy mirror. Giving myself a hard examination through the small rounded space, I dig for some reason that I agreed to go with him tonight. Is it how curious I am to the demon he’s fighting, or his flirtatious acts toward me? Whatever the odd sensations he’s drawing out from me, I can’t tell him to fuck off and never speak to him again. Even when he’s given me more than one reason in the past weeks. I know he’s only into me for a fun night or two and maybe that’s exactly what I need. Someone to fuck me so hard, my own problems fade away even if for only a night. But, I’m attached, invested into what the hell haunts him every night.

  Last night after I went to bed, I heard his gut-wrenching scream, and I shot up in bed. Staring at the shared wall, I contemplated comforting him, or ignoring him. Not wanting to overstep any boundary, I stayed in my room. I pressed my ear up to the wall, my heart weighed heavy from his small whimpers. What is this boy, who appears to have it all together, fighting? The cocky mouth, arrogant walk, and hot as hell guy is tortured from something. I have to figure it out; he has all these friends and they are blind to his deep layers underneath his facade. Taking a deep breath, I tighten my towel across my body. Should have gone into counseling instead of business.

  I open the door and startle back. “What’s up, hot stuff?” Rob slinks in the doorway and I back up until the doorframe presses at my back. He’s got his work pants on, barely hanging on his hips. The waistband of his boxers peek out, and his smooth chest is bare. He clearly doesn’t manscape by the patch of dark chest hair that travels down his stomach. My hand moves up into my hairline, my fingers slowly graze down my neck as I commit to memory every crevice of muscles. “Did you need something?” His voice alarms me and I step back from the small confines.

  “No.” It’s low and I wouldn’t even be sure he heard me except for the chuckle as I flee to my room.

  I shut my door and rest my back against it, sliding down until my butt thumps on the floor. With my knees folded up to my chest, all those flirting moments with Rob swim through my brain again. What the hell am I doing? As though a lightbulb flicks on, I realize that the fix-it side of me brought out by my mother’s problems just wants to help him. I don’t have to date him. I can be only his friend and hopefully save him from the darkness that surely surrounds him. I smile and my teeth nail down my lip as I nod my head. That’s it. Perfect.

  Flittering about my room, I begin the horrible task of getting ready. I decide to wear a pair of jeans and T-shirt with my Toms. One thing that attracts me to Rob is his simplicity of attire. The boy lives in jeans and plain T-shirts in an array of colors. The only thing I’ve seen him change more than his underwear is his watch. Another odd anomaly of his. A watch collector, who would have guessed.

  With my curls not cooperating, I pull my hair up in a ponytail just as a knock punches on my door. Standing up from my make-do vanity on the floor, I look at myself one more time and then step over to answer the door. “Ready?” He steps to the side, positioning his arm out for me to take.

  I giggle. He’s more dapper tonight with jeans that bear no stains and a Henley shirt that fits nice and snug along his chest, ending right before his black belt. Checking out his wrist, I find a shiny silver watch wrapped around it. By the time
I reach his eyes, after thoroughly ogling his body, his perfect white teeth surface from his opened smiling lips. “Good?” he asks and I set myself up for failure when I ask.

  “What?” I tilt my head.

  “Am I good enough to eat?”

  “You know I think you’ve been polite for about,” I raise my wrist like I’m clocking the time. “One minute?” I question and he laughs.

  “I tried, doesn’t that count?” he asks, shoving his hands in his pocket, peeking from me to the floor. I desperately want to call him out, but I can’t in good conscious. So, I link my arm through his and tug him to start walking.

  “Yes, it counts.” I wait for his eyes to meet mine. The clearest blue I’ve ever seen, and I can’t help but imagine him as a little boy every time I look in them. The light contrast to his black hair brings out the exotic and mysterious side of him. “Thank you.” His eyes study my lips and then close briefly before he nods.

  Rob and I have small talk and he gives me the low down on the car racing scene among a little about him during our hour trip. ”After learning Rob is an only child, his parents own a family printing business in the small town he grew up in, I’m wondering what on Earth his demon could be. He’s open with any question I ask and by the time we drive down the long secluded road in the middle of nowhere; I’m stumped to why this guy poses such a persona. The questions of this other Rob that emerges on occasion is on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t ruin tonight. I’m enjoying my time with him too much to spoil it with whatever he does fight on a daily basis.

  “This is it?” Car mufflers roar and breaks squeal as we wait in line to pay the fee to get in. Reading the sign that there’s a spectator fee, I reach down for my purse. “Let me,” I begin, but Rob places his hand on my arm and goose bumps shoot up my skin.

  “I have you covered.” When I peer up at him, he retracts his hand back as though my skin was on fire. It is, but he doesn’t know that.