by Sydney Logan
“You’re really talented, Eli. Good job.”
“Thanks.” He studies my face. “So . . . how was your date with Aunt Skye?”
“It . . . wasn’t really a date.”
Confusion flashes across his face. “I thought you took her to some club to listen to music?”
“I did.”
“And there was food?”
“Yeah, but—”
“Did you dance?”
“Yeah.”
Okay, so maybe it was a date. I haven’t been on one in so long that I obviously have no frame of reference.
“Did you kiss her?”
I shake my head. I have a lot of regrets about last night, but that’s not one of them. I’m already on the brink of madness. Imagine if I’d actually kissed the girl.
Eli grins. “Did you want to?”
A ringtone interrupts my pint-size interrogator. Eli reaches into his pocket and pulls out a phone that’s fancier than mine.
“It’s from my dad,” he says quietly. “He has to work late. Aunt Skye’s picking me up.”
Skye’s picking him up. It’s disgusting how happy those words make me, but I can’t pretend that seeing her won’t make my shitty day infinitely better. I want to see her. I want to hear her voice.
That’s your problem, Lynch. You want it all, and you can’t have it.
At six o’clock, I dismiss the class and hold my breath, watching the door like a hawk as parents stream in and out of the room to pick up their kids. I know it’s greedy, but I don’t need much. Just a glimpse of her long red hair or piercing green eyes will be enough.
But five minutes later, Eli receives another text.
“Aunt Skye’s waiting for me out front. See ya, Caleb.”
My heart sinks. She’s not coming in.
Eli gives me a wave before grabbing his guitar and walking out the door.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid.” I mutter to myself as the elevator doors close behind me. I roughly smack the button and lean my head against the cool steel wall, trying desperately to get a grip on my emotions.
You can’t let her see you like this.
The elevator doors fly open, and I slowly walk toward our apartment. When I step inside, I’m not surprised to find the living room in total darkness. We rarely spend time in here. I’m always in my room, and she’s in hers. And we live in perfect harmony because of it.
“I thought I heard you come in.”
I look up to find my best friend standing in her bedroom doorway.
“Hey, Jules.”
“What’s wrong?”
She knows me so well.
“Nothing.”
“I don’t believe you. Come talk to me while I finish packing. I was afraid I wouldn’t see you before I headed to the airport.”
I follow her to the bedroom and sit down on the edge of the bed. “Airport?”
“I have a conference in Albuquerque and then a photo shoot in Dallas, remember?”
I do now.
“Oh yeah. How long are you going to be gone?”
“Three weeks,” she says with a grin. “Honestly, Caleb, you never listen to me.”
“Sorry.”
The apology’s sincere. I’m sorry for so much, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about any of it.
Jules zips the last of her suitcases and places it with the others at the door before sitting down next to me.
“Seriously, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re the worst liar ever, Caleb Lynch. How long have we known each other?”
“Six years.”
“Exactly. Talk to me.”
I take a deep breath and gaze at the woman who’s been my best friend since our freshman year at Belmont. Juliana and I met in the university bookstore on the first day of classes. I thought she was cute with her black ponytail and her Nikon camera hanging from her neck, but it only took one bad date to convince us we were better off as friends.
“You’re my best friend, Jules.”
“You’re my best friend, too.”
“You know I love you, right?”
Her face softens and she leans her head against my shoulder. “Of course I do. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. Lord knows you’ve gone above and beyond the call of friendship these past few months. What you’re doing for me and my family . . .”
“Shh.” I kiss her forehead. The last thing I want to do is make her feel guilty. I made my choice. “It’s okay, honestly. What time does your flight leave?”
She sighs and looks down at her watch. “Soon. I’ve already called a taxi.”
“I could drive you. That’s an awful lot of luggage.”
“I’ll manage. Maybe flirt with the cab driver or something.”
I chuckle.
Juliana takes a deep breath. “Caleb, I know you don’t like talking about the wedding, but there are some things I need you to handle while I’m gone.”
I bite back a groan. My presence had been required at the first consultation, but since then, I’d been spared any and all discussions about this farce of a wedding. Apparently, my luck was about to run out.
“What do I need to do?”
“Nothing too serious. I just need you and the groomsmen to go in for your fittings.”
I nod. That doesn’t sound too bad.
“And I need you or Mom to approve the invitation. Please check the names. God help us if they misspell Martinez.”
I grin. “Got it. Anything else? What if she starts asking me about napkin colors or something else we don’t care about?”
“Then do what I do. Tell Lynsey to pick whatever she wants. It’s worked so far.”
True. Except for the wedding date, Jules and I hadn’t made one single decision about this ceremony. The dynamo wedding planner had taken care of everything.
“I can do that.”
“Good.” She kisses my cheek and grabs her carry-on. “I need to go. Don’t worry. Just show up for your fitting. Let Lynsey handle the rest.”
I help carry her luggage out front. The cab’s already there. Because I know how stubborn she can be, I slip the driver twenty bucks to help her with her bags once they reach the airport. He gives me a salute and pockets the cash.
I hug her one last time. “Be safe, Jules.”
“Always am.”
She’s almost in the cab when I gently grab her arm.
“Jules, have you ever met someone? Someone who literally took your breath away from the second you laid eyes on them?”
Juliana blinks rapidly. “Caleb, what’s—”
“Just . . . have you? Ever?”
She smiles sadly. “You know I haven’t. Otherwise, it would be his name on the wedding invitations . . . instead of yours.”
Nodding numbly, I give her one more hug before she climbs inside the taxi. I don’t have the heart to wave goodbye. But that’s okay, because she doesn’t look back as the car pulls away.
Despite my sleepless night, I’m too anxious to actually go to bed, so I decide to take a walk to try to clear my head. It’s useless, because my head is filled with her.
Skye Douglas is fun, sweet, and loves music almost as much as I do. I’d love to get to know her better . . . to see if she’s really as great as she seems.
But I can’t.
I know that life can be cruel at times, but never had it been more obvious than when I looked across the music room and found myself staring into the eyes of the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. With her long red hair and bright green eyes, Skye Douglas could be a supermodel, but she’s not. She’s just the coolest girl I’ve ever met in my entire life.
And I can’t have her.
Like an idiot, I thought taking Skye to the club would be safe. We’d listen to music, eat some chicken tenders, and it didn’t have to mean a thing, right?
Wrong.
I just had to ask her to dance. I just had to hold her in my arms.
I’ve never been a bi
g believer in instant attraction or love at first sight, but in that moment, I’d never felt more connected to another human being. I hadn’t meant to ask if she felt it, too. The words escaped before I could stop them. But Skye admitted that she did, and stone-cold fear had instantly pierced through me like a blade, because I realized there was no way I wasn’t going to hurt this girl.
And then I did. I walked Skye to her car and pretended like I couldn’t care less if I ever laid eyes on her again.
I’d tossed and turned all night, riddled with guilt over how I treated her. I’d been rude. Cold. Heartless. But I know it’s better this way. Why start something I can’t finish?
I made a promise to Juliana, and I intend to keep it.
Thunder ripples in the distance as I make my way back to the apartment. I’ve just reached the building’s steps when a soft rain begins to fall. I lift my face toward the midnight sky and exhale a heavy sigh.
Skye loves the rain, too.
The rest of the week is exactly the same.
Each day, at the end of guitar class, Eli receives a text from Skye to meet him outside. He gives me a wave before he lugs his guitar out the door. Wallowing in misery, I head home to my empty apartment and stare at the TV, but that’s useless because I always seem to find Dirty Dancing or some old 80s TV show that instantly reminds me of Skye. When television fails, I grab my guitar and write cheesy love ballads until it’s time to go to bed. What little sleep I get isn’t nearly enough, but I drag myself out of bed the next day and go through the motions all over again.
I’ve always heard that absence makes the heart grow fonder.
It does.
And it sucks.
What sucks even more is that Jules isn’t around to remind me of my obligations. That’s dangerous, because those are the times I nearly convince myself that it’d be okay to call Skye just to say hi. Maybe to apologize for acting like a jerk that night at the club.
But common sense always prevails.
It’s been a week since I stepped foot inside The Boombox. I’m not really in the mood tonight, either, but I promised Jesse I’d stop by for Songwriter’s Night. I’ve performed in the past, but not tonight, despite the fact I’ve written enough sappy love songs this week to fill a Monster Ballads compilation CD.
“What’s up with you?” Jesse asks as he hands me a beer. Along with being the lead singer of the house band, he bartends a few nights a week.
“Just a rough week, Jess.”
He nods. “I know it’s none of my business, but I couldn’t help but notice your beautiful date last week.”
I grimace and take a long drink.
“I also couldn’t help but notice that she wasn’t Juliana.”
“She’s just a girl. No big deal.”
“I see. So, if she’s just a girl, you wouldn’t mind if I asked her out?”
My eyes narrow as I angrily tear off the label on the bottle.
“That’s what I thought. Just a girl, my ass.”
“It’s complicated, Jesse.”
“Oh, I can imagine. Sweet Juliana with your engagement ring on her finger, and a gorgeous, green-eyed bombshell standing back there at the jukebox, looking almost as lovesick as you do.”
I spin around on the barstool. Her back’s turned to me, and her long red hair is pulled into a ponytail, but there’s no denying it’s her.
“She was in here last night, too,” he says quietly. “Sat at that same table right in front of the stage. Didn’t eat. Didn’t drink. Occasionally fed quarters to the jukebox, but otherwise, she just sat there listening to music. Left the waitress a huge tip for doing absolutely nothing and walked out just before midnight.”
An old Aerosmith song flows from the jukebox as I let myself drown in the sight of her. Skye’s body starts to sway with the rhythm of the music, and I’m incapable of keeping my distance a second longer.
“Definitely complicated,” Jesse says, right as my feet hit the floor.
I maneuver my way through the crowded tables. As I get closer, I smile when I see Skye’s back stiffen. Without considering the consequences, I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her against my chest. She gasps softly but doesn’t turn around as her body relaxes against me. Her hands cover mine and our fingers lace together as we gently move to the music.
When the song ends and morphs into another ballad, Skye finally turns around in my arms, allowing me a glimpse of those green eyes that have haunted me for days.
“I’m sorry, Skye.”
She drops her head, and I softly touch her chin, lifting her eyes back to mine.
“Please don’t hide. I’ve missed you.”
“And whose fault is that?”
“Mine. All mine.”
“Why did you run, Caleb?”
I lean my forehead against hers and whisper the most honest words I can manage.
“Because I’m terrified. I have no idea what to do, Skye.”
I can tell by the expression on her face that she doesn’t understand. Why would she? It’s not like I’ve been completely open and honest about any of this.
“Caleb, are you seeing someone?”
“No.”
“Married?”
I shake my head. Not yet, anyway.
“Then it’s me. And that’s fine. Just say so.”
“It’s not you, Skye. Can’t you tell I’m crazy attracted to you?” I tighten my arms around her and hold her closer. “You’re literally all I’ve thought about since the moment we met. I’ve been miserable. I’ve even watched Dirty Dancing about a thousand times this week because it’s all that seems to be on TV at night. I couldn’t escape it. I couldn’t escape you.”
She sighs quietly. “If all that’s true—”
“It is.”
“Then I really don’t get it.”
“I know. And I wish I could explain it better.”
Skye’s fingers weave their way into my hair, and I close my eyes, letting the warmth of her body against mine help me forget everything. For just a moment, I forget that I’ve made a promise to my best friend. I allow myself to think that, just maybe, there’s a chance I can make this work without hurting everyone involved. After all, it’s still two weeks until Jules comes home. That gives me fourteen days to formulate some sort of plan.
Gazing down at her, I lift my hand and gently trace the outline of her lips with my fingertip. All I want to do is kiss her, and by the way her eyes keep flickering to my mouth, I know she wants it, too. Lowering my head, I’ve nearly touched her lips with mine when she suddenly pulls away.
“Sorry,” she says, reaching into her pocket for her phone. “I need to get this. I’m . . . sort of on call tonight.”
“No problem.”
I mentally curse whoever’s on the phone while Skye steps outside to take her call. She’s not gone long, but when she returns, I can tell by the look on her face that she has to go.
“Everything okay?”
She nods. “It was my brother, Nick.”
“Eli’s dad?”
“Yeah, I need to pick him up. He was supposed to spend the night with a friend from class, but he’s caught a stomach bug or something. Nick’s stuck at work, and Eli’s mom is out of town, so . . .”
“So, that’s what you meant by on call.”
“Right.”
“I understand. You should go.”
“I should. I’m really sorry.”
“It’s no problem. Do you want some help getting him home?”
“Nah, I can handle it. Thanks, though.”
She gives me a sad smile and turns to walk away, but I can’t let her leave. Not like this.
I gently grab her arm. “Wait! Can I . . . call you?”
“Do you want to call me?”
“I do. Very much.”
She shakes her head. “One minute you’re terrified and the next you’re asking for my number. You’re very confusing, Caleb.”
“I know. I’m going to get my shit together
, I promise.”
I just made her a promise that I don’t know I can keep. But I can’t let her leave tonight without having some way to reach her.
Skye studies my face before sighing softly. “Give me your phone.”
I offer her my cell. She quickly adds her number to my contacts before handing it back. Glancing down at the screen, I can’t help but smile when I see her name on it.
“But Caleb?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t call unless you mean it.”
The tone of her voice is unmistakable. Soft but firm. Hopeful but cautious.
Don’t play hot and cold with me.
Don’t be an asshole.
I wish I could promise I won’t be, but the truth is, I already am.
I’m being a jerk to Jules, just by letting Skye add her number to my phone. And I’m going to be a jerk to Skye, because there’s no way I’m not calling her. Not when I’ve been given a second chance.
I don’t want to be that jerk. I don’t want to be that asshole. I have to figure out a way to make this work.
“Understood,” I hear myself say.
Skye nods. “I really need to go.”
“Tell Eli I hope he feels better.”
“I will. Night, Caleb.”
“Goodnight, Skye.”
After she leaves, I walk back to the bar. Jesse’s eyes lock with mine. His face is unreadable, but I can see the question burning in his eyes.
“What are you doing, Caleb?”
Reaching into my wallet, I pull out a twenty and toss it on the bar. “Paying for my drink.”
“That’s not what I meant. What are you doing with that girl?”
What can I say? That I think I’ve met the woman of my dreams? That I need to figure out a way to keep my promise to Jules and explore whatever this is with Skye at the same time?
Sure, that doesn’t make you sound like an asshole at all.
With a heavy sigh, I face my best man who’s standing behind the bar.
“I don’t know what I’m doing, Jess.”
He takes the twenty and doesn’t ask if I want change.
“Well, you’d better figure it out,” he says. “Otherwise, you’re gonna lose them both.”
He hands me another beer before heading to the stage. As he welcomes the crowd to Songwriter’s Night, I glance down at my phone. Seeing her name on the screen gives me the courage to send her a text.