Rock Me (Jaded Ivory Book 1)

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Rock Me (Jaded Ivory Book 1) Page 15

by Rebecca Brooke


  “I still can’t believe you spent this kind of money on a guitar for me.”

  Cole placed a finger under my chin and lifted my gaze. “To see your smile, it was worth every penny.”

  My heart took off like a racehorse. It was a wonder he hadn’t heard it from across the table. I took deep, even breaths to get myself under control. I ran my hands over the strings reverently. “I’d need to have it tuned.”

  Cole shook his head. “Already made sure the guy tuned it before I left the store. Said it might need a small adjustment from travel, but that’s it.”

  “You did?”

  Now, on top of his sweet words sending my mind into a frenzy, my stomach churned with the idea of playing and singing alone. Since the first moment I’d stepped on stage with Jaded Ivory, it had always been all of us. I’d never been up there alone.

  “Mari?”

  I looked up into the softest, ocean-blue eyes ever. “I was a jackass in the past and missed all my chances to hear your voice back then. But I’ve heard you now and you’re amazing. Please sing for me.”

  Something about the way he asked, combined with the irrational need to prove myself, had my legs moving of their own volition until I found myself putting my name on the sign-up sheet.

  Can I do this alone?

  Realistically, I knew I shouldn’t feel that way. Cole had given me no reason up until then to think that I needed to prove my abilities, but that didn’t stop me from needing the validation for myself.

  “I can’t do this,” I whispered to my friend Jennifer. “What if I sound terrible?”

  It was our in-school performance for the choir concert. Every year we’d put it all out there on the line, praying that the popular kids either skipped school that day or would be on their best behavior, which wasn’t likely. This year it was my turn to sing the solo, and as I waited in the wings of the stage I wondered what they had planned.

  Jennifer narrowed her eyes. “You have to be kidding me. You have one of the best voices in the entire choir. You are not going to mess up. When you get out there, you’re going to show all the assholes in the audience how good you really are.”

  She meant well, but with my luck, whatever happened it would be worse than normal. I walked out on stage pretty sure I was going to puke in front of everyone. The rest of the choir took their places on the risers and I moved to the front where the microphone stood. My knees felt like they were going to buckle beneath me, so I tried to keep my focus on Mrs. Mathews, the choir director.

  She gestured to the piano player and the music picked up in volume. At first, I ignored the whole room of kids, focusing on the lights or the wall at the back.

  Then the murmuring hit my ears. I looked down.

  There in the front row was Sam holding a poster that said, “Will you go to prom with me?”

  I almost missed my words, doing a double take at the poster. He couldn’t possibly mean me. I kept singing and glanced back again. The poster definitely said it, and he held up another sign with my picture from the yearbook. I brought my hand to my chest. Deep down, I knew nothing good could come of this. Heads were starting to swivel back and forth between Sam and me.

  Keep singing, I told myself.

  Laughter started to build in the room. When I glanced over, I found out exactly why. Sam had turned the sign around. Now it read, “The perfect prom dates” and my yearbook picture had been replaced by the one from the day they threw the gum in my hair. Next to it was the creepy janitor, holding a scraper, using it to clean gum off the desks. Tears leaked down my face, my voice cracking as I tried to finish the song.

  As the laughter grew and grew until I could barely follow the music, I ran from the stage. In the background, I heard the principal yelling at the students for their behavior, but the damage was done. My phone began buzzing in my pocket. It hadn’t even been five minutes but already the whole thing was all over social media, along with a picture of Sam talking to the principal, still holding the “Will you go to prom with me?” sign.

  After that, I’d refused to audition for any solos, even though Mrs. Mathews begged me to. I swore to myself on that day that I’d never leave myself that vulnerable again.

  Until now.

  I did this for a living and I wanted to prove to everyone in the room that I was a good singer, not so they knew . . .

  So I believed it.

  There were three people in front of me. They seemed to be taking a few minutes in between each performance. I went back to the table on legs that felt like rubber. Sitting down, I noticed two pieces of cake on the table; one chocolate, one red velvet, my favorite. Not that I could have eaten it if I wanted to.

  Besides choir performances, I’d never sung solo. And it had been a while since that happened. Tonight I was all on my own.

  Twirling my pendant in my fingers, I asked my grandmother for strength. I also found Cole making light conversation to distract me. It was sweet and unexpected at the same time. Even as I tried to keep up with what he was saying, I caught myself glancing at the stage. Eventually, my name was called and I stood from the table, smoothing the invisible creases from my clothes and picking at non-existent lint.

  “Mari?”

  I glanced up from the guitar in my hand and got caught in Cole’s gaze.

  “Yeah?”

  He smiled. “You’re gonna be great.”

  I gave him a nod, unsure whether I could get my voice to work. As I walked up to the stage it felt like the first night I sang with Jaded Ivory. I took a seat on the stool, placing the guitar on my lap and every song I’d ever known floated from my mind.

  How was I supposed to sing if I suddenly couldn’t remember a single song?

  Sweat began to form on my brow and I caught myself fidgeting with the strings on the guitar. Needing to gain perspective, I glanced up and found Cole watching every move I made. His gaze sent a wave of comfort through me and, just like that, the lyrics I needed popped into my head.

  My fingers hit all the notes, the words bringing to the surface all the pain I’d done my best to hide. I hadn’t intended it to be that way, but one look at Cole, the way his skin paled and the haunted look in his eyes, and it was obvious he knew the lyrics referred to him.

  I finished the song and the audience went crazy, clapping and cheering. Cole was on his feet, fingers at his lips, whistling. They were the same reactions I got singing with Jaded Ivory, but the accomplishment was more meaningful having faced my fears and done it on my own. I stepped down from the stage and received high fives and words of encouragement and congratulations all the way back through the crowd as I skipped between the tables. A sense of contentment filled me.

  I’d done it.

  Me.

  Alone!

  The moment I reached the table, Cole pulled me into a hug.

  “No matter how many times I hear you sing, your talent astounds me,” he whispered in my ear.

  “Thank you.”

  Cole’s words were everything I needed to hear, the deep satisfaction like a balm to my soul. The Band-Aid had been ripped off the first night I saw Cole, and each moment I spent with this new grown-up, mature Cole healed the pain and heartache a little bit more.

  The cake was still on the table and Cole caught me eyeing the red velvet the moment I sat down. He winked and pushed the piece across the table, stabbing it with a fork and smiling. We stayed for the rest of the open mic list and this time I was able to pay attention to the music. At the end of the night, Cole walked me to my car.

  “How did you know I liked red velvet cake?”

  He chuckled. “I didn’t. Lucky guess.”

  We reached my car and I hit the unlock button. Before I could reach out, Cole opened the door. “I had fun tonight. Thank you for agreeing to hang out with me.”

  “Thanks for asking me.”

  Silence fell over us like a blanket, the sounds of the night growing in volume. Laughter of friends and couples leaving the café cut through the quiet and m
y teeth dug into the skin of my lip. I wasn’t sure what to say, and instead of sounding like an idiot, I figured I would let him speak first.

  He shuffled his feet, kicking a rock with his shoe. “Look, Mari, I like spending time with you, but I know you have a hard time trusting me. I’m really trying to prove that I’m different. Do you think we can get together again?”

  The first word on my tongue was no, it would only make all of this more complicated. Then I thought about why he’d become a teacher and how he’d defended the girl from the jock bullies. Plus, I couldn’t deny that I’d had fun hanging out with Cole. He was smart and funny, and he had a way of making me feel settled even when I thought I should be pacing a hole in the floor. Tonight, I came out of my shell and did something I would never have considered doing without the rest of the band. And the man standing in front of me had made that happen.

  “Okay.”

  Even in the dim light of the parking lot I could see Cole’s eyes widen. “Okay? Wait . . . really?”

  I nodded.

  Cole held out a hand to help me into the car. “Okay then, I’ll text you later this week.”

  I shook my head. He’d done something for me and I wanted to return the favor. I wanted to trust him, and maybe letting him into my world would help with that.

  “No, this time, I’ll make the plans.”

  The corners of his mouth lifted. “I like that idea.”

  “Good-night, Cole.”

  “’Night, Mari.”

  He shut the door and I pulled out of the lot, watching him in my rearview mirror as I drove away.

  When I put the car in park in my driveway, I noticed the living room light on. When he was home alone, Sawyer usually ended up in his room watching Netflix and working on music, so the only reason that light would be on was if he was waiting up for me. As I walked inside and shut the door behind me, Sawyer looked up from the book in his hands, marking his page before putting it to one side.

  “How did it go?”

  I took the seat next to him, stealing a cushion and hugging it to my chest. “Better than I expected it to, that’s for sure. He took me to an open mic night and convinced me to play.”

  Sawyer’s jaw dropped. “Wait . . . you played the guitar and sang in a room full of people, by yourself?”

  “I did.”

  Sawyer cupped my cheek. “I’m so proud of you.”

  “I think I’m going to hang out with him again.”

  His hand dropped but he didn’t take his gaze from mine, nor did he say anything.

  “I know it sounds stupid and you think I’m out of my mind for wanting to spend time with him, but the more I do, the more it feels like the weight of all those years is being lifted from my shoulders.”

  He nodded and a look passed over his face, but just a quickly he covered it up by changing the subject. “Now let me see this guitar. Heath and Jackson have been talking about it nonstop.”

  I pulled the bag onto my lap, unzipping the fabric. The instrument came into view and Sawyer gasped. “This is the Fender he bought you?”

  “I know. I think I had the same reaction as you. It’s miles above the guitar he broke, which it turns out really wasn’t his fault at all.”

  Sawyer whistled his appreciation, running his fingers along it. He struck a couple of chords and handed it back to me. “That’s one helluva guitar. The way a Fender sounds beats any other guitar, any day of the week.” He closed his eyes, like he was savoring the sound in his head.

  “I’m glad you approve. Although, I have a feeling he had no idea what he was picking out and let the salesperson in the shop talk him into this one.” I carefully placed the instrument back into the case. “Which is fine with me.”

  Sawyer was quiet for a moment, glancing around the room as if he had something else to say, but wasn’t sure how to say it.

  “Just spit it out.”

  His eye darted to mine. “It’s just . . . Did you tell him about the contract?”

  “No.”

  My answer was firm and immediate. I wanted to trust Cole after all he’d done recently, but there was too much history there to simply lay everything at his feet. I didn’t want someone spending time with me for what I could do for them. If we were going to hang out and be friends, it would be because he was genuinely interested in that friendship.

  “Probably a smart idea.”

  I stood, picking up the guitar and having every intention of locking myself in my room for the rest of the night. Sawyer’s hand latched on to mine, bringing me back down to the couch.

  “Stop jumping to the conclusion that I’m being an asshole. I know you. And you would never want someone to be around you and spend time with you because of who you are.”

  “You’re right. Sorry for assuming the worst.” I leaned the case on the couch and snuggled into Sawyer’s arms. We never used to fight. I needed to stop thinking the worst and remember that this was Sawyer—the guy who'd saved me and helped me embrace a new image of myself. He’d always been there for me. He was also the one I could share any secret with. “What’s strange is I think he and I could actually be friends.”

  He traced circles over my back, relaxing me even further. “You know better than anyone that people can change.”

  “I know. It’s why I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.”

  He squeezed me tighter. “And I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

  I giggled. “I can’t breathe.”

  Sawyer loosened his grip chuckling in my ear. The sounds made goose bumps rise on my arms.

  “The thing is, I don’t know if I’m making a colossally bad decision by letting him in.”

  “Go with your gut. It hasn’t been wrong before.”

  There was a sadness to Sawyer’s voice. I held him tighter, knowing that Sawyer had regrets about not listening to himself. Deep down he worried about the choices he made. I wanted to lighten the mood for him.

  “You’re right. After all, my gut led me to you.” I leaned up and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

  “Thanks, Mari. I’m not sure what my life would be like here without you.”

  I sat in the quiet for a bit longer with Sawyer. When a yawn escaped my mouth even though I tried to disguise it with my hand, he laughed and pushed me to my feet. “You need to head to bed. It was a long day for all of us. And don’t forget, we need to head back to the studio tomorrow.”

  I stopped, bent over reaching for the guitar, and glanced up at him. “Tomorrow?” On a Saturday?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. They want Runaway Dream recorded by Monday to start on edits in case we need to rerecord parts of it. They’re determined to release it sooner rather than later.”

  I sucked in a breath.

  “Don’t stress,” he said. “They wouldn’t be releasing it if they didn’t think it would do well.”

  “I know. Doesn’t make it any less scary.”

  He took hold of my shoulders, rubbing them with his thumbs as he squatted down to lock eyes with me. “Just remember we’re all as nervous about this as you are. Don’t push us away. We’ll get through it together.”

  “We will.” He let me go and I smiled. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  I climbed into bed, thoughts of releasing the single to the world still running through my head. I still couldn’t fathom thousands of people hearing me sing. Each time I closed my eyes, they’d pop open again.

  Great. How was I supposed to record tomorrow when I couldn’t sleep? I let my thoughts wander to Cole, the other anomaly in my life. Instead of getting more worked up, I found thinking about him settled something deep inside me.

  And as I finally let my eyes slide shut, it was with the memory of pride etched in every feature of Cole’s face when I’d finished playing.

  CHAPTER 17

  Mari

  I was pretty sure I was going to pace a hole in the cement outside of the movie theater. No matter how many pep talks I’d given myself, I couldn’t shake t
he nerves. I knew I was being stupid, it was just a movie for crying out loud. But it meant revealing more of myself. I was usually the girl who went along with what everyone else wanted to see. Choosing something that I loved and sharing it with someone else was big for me. I never wanted to give anyone the chance to make fun of me again.

  I was so stuck in my head, I didn’t see Cole until he was almost toe to toe with me.

  “Hi.” He glanced around at our surroundings. “Ready to tell me what we’re doing here?”

  I’d given him no indication on the phone. I’d really wanted to see his reaction to my suggestion in person. My fingers wrapped around my pendant, moving it side to side.

  “Umm . . . a movie. Is that okay?”

  Cole stepped forward and removed my fingers from the necklace. “It’s great. What are we seeing?”

  “The Princess Bride. It’s only in theaters for this weekend,” I said in a small voice. Shit, why was I questioning myself all of a sudden? I braced for his reaction.

  A smile curved his lips. “You want to take me to see the six-fingered man, or maybe challenge me to a battle of wits?”

  I smirked, feeling relief flood through me. “If you’re not careful, I’ll take you to the fire swamp.”

  His booming laugh filled the air and when he leaned closer, I shivered. “As you wish,” he whispered, his impression damn near perfect.

  I grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the box office. The second I realized what I’d done, I dropped his hand like it was on fire. A corner of his mouth lifted. He reached down, took my hand again, and purchased the tickets, even though I tried to argue with him about paying for myself.

  Once we had the popcorn, with extra butter, and he’d found us seats in the back of the theater, the movie began. It was lucky I’d seen the movie enough times to practically have it memorized because if Cole would have asked my favorite part I wouldn’t have been able to tell him otherwise. The scent of his cologne enveloped me, taking hold and making my head spin.

  Near the end of the movie I peeked at Cole and saw his eyes on me. I turned to face him, leaning across the armrest that separated us until our lips were only inches apart.

 

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