To Each Her Own

by Molly Mirren

  Still not fully awake, Erin clumsily patted Chopper on his huge head and sat up, then swung her legs over the side of the bed.

  Chopper jumped off the bed, went to the door, then circled back to put his meaty front paws on the mattress. He began wagging his bushy tail so hard the entire back half of his body moved, causing the bed to shake.

  “You need to go outside?”

  “Woof!” Chopper's tail wagged even more frantically, and he went back to the door. He sat down, giving Erin a woeful look.

  Had Jay not let him out yet? Surely he had.

  Erin eased off the bed and padded barefoot out into the hallway, where she stood by Jay's door to listen. She didn't hear anything, so she carefully opened the door a crack and peeked in. Jay was lying on his stomach, his face toward her, sound asleep for once.

  No wonder Chopper had woken her. He was probably about to burst.

  Erin frowned. This wasn't like Jay. It was a weekday. Usually, by this time, he'd been up for several hours, working either at home on his laptop or at his office with Luis and a couple of other IT guys.

  She knew his back was the reason he'd overslept. Erin had broached the subject of seeing a doctor a few other times since her original conversation with him about it, but he always cut her off and changed the subject. No matter what he said, however, it was clear the pain was still keeping him from sleeping and was starting to affect his work. He'd been awake at one-thirty last night when she'd gotten home from her shift at Lars, and she'd heard him in the living room moving around when she fell asleep around two-thirty.

  Jay would probably want Erin to wake him, but she decided to wait a bit. He needed the rest, and he looked so peaceful in sleep, kind of like a really hot fallen angel.

  She rolled her eyes at her own cheesiness. God, she was turning into such a sap. She shut his door, then headed down the hall toward the kitchen to let a now-dancing Chopper outside.

  While Chopper was in the backyard doing his business, Erin started coffee brewing and checked her cell phone to see if she had any messages. There was one from Zac. He'd called earlier that morning, at 3:47 a.m.

  Erin shook her head. Her brother had no concept of time. His days and nights were completely turned around, not that she could talk. Had it been a few weeks earlier, she probably would have been up at that time, too. Last night, though, she'd gone almost straight to bed, exhausted from work. She was glad the phone had been on the kitchen counter and hadn't woken her.

  Since she'd been seeing Jay, she wasn't drinking as much on the job anymore—in fact, hardly at all—and without the beer and shots to give her false confidence and energy, she found she was ready to go to bed most nights when she got home instead of being wired.

  This was better all the way around. She slept more soundly without the alcohol coursing through her veins—no beer wakies—and she'd been writing more first thing in the morning after she got up. What a shocker: She found she was more creative and positive about her writing after a good night's sleep.

  For the first time in a long time, she was motivated to make something of herself. Most of all, though, she wanted to be worthy of Jay.

  Zac didn't leave a voice mail. He never did. After pouring herself a mug of coffee, Erin tapped his name from the favorites list on her phone. His phone rang and then went to voice mail. She glanced at the microwave clock and saw it was 10:12 a.m.—an ungodly hour for Zac. She smiled wickedly and texted “wake up” over and over until he called her back.

  “Hello?” she answered.

  “What the fuck, Erin!” he griped. “What's with the text abuse?”

  “I wanted you to answer your phone.”

  “What time is it?” Zac's voice was thick with sleep and scratchy, probably from singing and smoking the night before.

  “Midmorning,” she said, feigning innocence.

  There was a shuffling noise, and then he sounded indignant. “It's ten fucking—this is cruel! Call me back in four hours.”

  She laughed. “I saw you called last night. Were you drunk-dialing, or did you actually need to talk to me?”

  He sighed heavily, conveying his annoyance. “Both.” Then the grumpiness left his voice and it softened. “Mostly, I had the beer blues and was missing my sister.”

  Erin was touched. Zac could be sweet sometimes. They had their ups and downs, like any siblings did, but they had a strong bond that could never be broken.

  A sudden pang of remorse slid through her. She'd tried to end her life, and it would have devastated Zac. It was the stupidest thing she'd ever done in a long line of stupid things. Sometimes the weight of it, the profound shame of it, threatened to eat her up from the inside out.

  It was ironic Jay had triggered the suicide attempt because he was now a huge reason Erin was glad she was alive. And then there was Zac. It would have been such a shitty thing to do to her brother.

  She cleared her throat to get the guilt out of her voice and tried to sound normal. “I miss you, too, Zacky.”

  He sucked in a horrified breath. Knowing how he hated that nickname, Erin shook off her morose thoughts and smiled. Ah, the joys of tormenting her twin.

  “Dude, I'm taking the high road here,” Zac said in a lofty tone. “I did not just hear you call me that.”

  “So what did you want to talk about?”

  “Just wondering how the ankle is.”

  Erin was wearing a tank top and short pajama boxers, so her legs were bare. She looked down at her bad ankle. Her physical therapy had ended almost two weeks ago. Sometimes her ankle was still stiff and swollen if she was on it too much, but, for the most part, it was much better. The scar from her surgery, however, was a different story. It would always be a reminder of something she wanted desperately to forget. “It's fine,” she answered cautiously.

  “Good. Get this,” Zac said, excitement evident in his voice. “The response to us has been excellent, so our sponsor wants to extend the tour through the rest of the summer and into the fall.”

  Erin laughed with genuine happiness for her brother. “Oh, my God, Zac. That's awesome.”

  “Yep. So now that your ankle is better, you can join us. We'll be in New Orleans in a week. You can catch up with us there. Bryan will get you a ticket on Southwest.” Bryan was the band's manager.

  Erin pressed her lips together, thinking about the last couple of weeks she'd shared with Jay. She didn't want to leave him. Who would rub his back and bug him about seeing a doctor if she wasn't here? Then again, who was she kidding? Jay didn't need a nurse. Even though he was being stubborn about the doctor thing, he was one of the strongest, most capable people she knew.

  The simple truth was, Erin would miss him horribly. Who would kiss her breathless and make her heart do pleasant, flippy-floppy things? The thought of leaving him was . . . well, she just didn't want to think about it.

  “Erin?” prompted Zac. “You still there?”

  “Yeah. I'm here.”

  “So, what do you think? You ready to come back?”

  “What about the house?”

  “What about it?”

  “Jay's lease is almost up.”

  “Uh, like at the end of next month, and we just started this one.” Zac sounded annoyed that she'd mentioned it, like it wasn't a big deal. “Hopefully, Jay will be willing to sign another lease. If not, we'll find another renter.”

  “What if it's not that easy?”

  “We'll deal. What does that have to do with you coming on the tour?”

  Erin shrugged, even though she knew Zac couldn't see her. “I just think one of us needs to be here to take care of all that.”

  “Has Jay hinted that he's not going to renew?”

  “No.”

  “Then why are you worrying over something that might not even happen?”

  “I don't know.” Erin searched for another excuse. “Don't you think it'll be unfair to Nate to kick him off the tour after he was cool enough to take my place at the last minute?”

  �
��Nate's the problem. He's got a family. His baby mama is bitching at him to get back home because she's tired of taking care of their kid by herself. Personally, I think he's a wuss. I think he's just using his girl as an excuse because he's getting sick of the road.”

  Imagine that. Getting sick of sleeping in a tiny, cramped RV with three other people and only one minuscule bathroom where showers were iffy to nonexistent; playing mostly small dingy venues that reeked of stale smoke and beer; waking up every day in a different city, usually with a hangover. It got exhausting and old after a while, and Erin hadn't really been looking forward to it, although she wanted the band to succeed for Zac's sake.

  It wasn't the life she wanted for herself, but she hadn't drummed up the courage to tell her brother yet. The band was everything to him, and he assumed it was for her, too. The truth would hurt and disappoint him.

  “Erin, what the fuck? Why all the roadblocks all of a sudden? I mean, come on,” Zac coaxed. “The band needs you. Is it the ankle? I swear we'll be careful. I mean, hello. You'll be on it less on the road than you will be on your feet working at Lars.”

  Erin sighed, knowing she needed to come clean. If she was going to be a better person, she needed to start by telling her brother the truth, no matter how difficult. It was probably what Jay would do if he were in the same situation. “Zac, it's not the ankle.”

  “Huh?”

  “It's not the ankle.”

  “Then what is it?”

  She stalled for a second, tracing the rim of her steaming coffee mug with her finger. “The band—I mean, don't get me wrong. I'm really, really happy things are taking off for you.”

  “It's not just me, Erin. You're still a part of it. There will always be a place for you. It's your band as much as mine.”

  She rubbed the back of her neck with her hand and stared down at her bare feet. “Thank you for saying that, but . . . ”

  When she didn't finish, he prompted, “But what?”

  She inhaled a fortifying breath and let it out. “Zac,” she said gently, “the band has always been your dream, not mine.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “I—I don't want to do it anymore.”

  Silence.

  “I'm sorry,” she said.

  “No way. Uh-uh.”

  “You don't need me.”

  “What?” He sounded outraged. “No one—no one can replace you, Erin. No one. I thought this was a family thing, that we'd always stick together. It's not the same without you.”

  The injured, betrayed tone of Zac's voice sliced Erin to the core. She started to waver. She loved her brother, and saying no to him was killing her, but she needed to be strong. This was about doing what was right for her for once and not living her life for someone else. “You'll be fine, Zac. Like I said, you don't really need me.”

  “That is such bullshit,” Zac said angrily. “I hate being away from you. Do you know how much I've missed you? This is the longest we've ever been apart.”

  “Oh, please. You're just saying all this because Nate wants to leave.”

  “That's not true.”

  “Zac, you were fine with me not going before,” Erin pointed out. “In fact, you were so fine with it, you left me with a total stranger just a few days after I came home from the hospital.”

  “Oh, so now you're gonna throw that in my face? I had no choice, Erin.” Any trace of the laid-back, stoner flakiness Zac usually affected was gone. He sounded sharp and clipped. “This tour was the chance of a lifetime. Don't put that on me to make yourself feel better.”

  She didn't know what to say. She'd known this would be a difficult conversation, but Zac was taking it really hard.

  “Erin, don't do this,” he pleaded. “You're just out of the loop. You've forgotten what it feels like, the high you get from being onstage, the thrill of it, the music pulsing through your veins. There's nothing that compares. You know that.”

  “I'm sorry, Zac. That's how it is for you, not me. My dream is writing.”

  His voice turned mocking. “Oh, really? That's your dream? You could have fooled me. You've been saying that for years, but what the hell have you got to show for it?”

  Anger mixed with Erin's guilt, and she clenched her fist. “Oh, thanks, Trynt. Your support and understanding mean so much to me.”

  “Don't compare me to that douchebag,” Zac snapped.

  “Then don't act like that douchebag!” Realizing she was yelling, Erin took a breath and lowered her voice. “Everything's not always about you, Zac.”

  She could hear his frustrated exhale over the phone before he said, “Listen to me, Erin. We have a chance at something big with the band, a chance to make something of ourselves right now. What are you gonna do? Keep writing phantom novels no one sees but you and work at Lars until you're all used up? What kind of life—what kind of future is that?”

  Her brother's lack of faith in her hurt, and she swallowed back the hard lump that had formed in her throat. “I've—I've had a lot of time to think these last few months. I want to try and get the novel I've finished published. I'm going to start submitting it to agents.” Even to her own ears, she sounded too thready, too uncertain.

  “Well, that's fucking great,” said Zac, his voice oozing sarcasm. “And what am I supposed to do in the meantime when Nate leaves?”

  “Guitarists are a dime a dozen, Zac. I'm sure you'll find someone else who's dying to go on tour with a national band.”

  “You know it's not that easy! I don't want to have to audition fifty million people and go through all that shit. I want you!”

  “And I can't believe you're being such a selfish asshole.” Her breath was ragged, and her emotions were all over the place—they kept flipping from guilt and regret to a righteous, hot fury that made her shaky.

  “Yeah. That's me,” he said. “I'm a selfish asshole. So, let me get this straight. You're passing up a chance at fame and fortune so you can wait tables and maybe publish some novel you say you finished.”

  “I think you're jumping the gun a bit on the fame and fortune,” Erin said dryly.

  He ignored her. “Which, by the way, why can't you write and mail letters to agents from the road?”

  “Oh, and how would I do that, since I don't have a laptop? There's no place for my desktop in that tiny RV.”

  Zac huffed. “If that's all it is, I'll buy you a damn laptop.”

  She clenched her fist. “It's more than just the writing stuff.”

  “Like what? Is it a guy? You fucking another random guy?”

  Erin felt as if he'd just slapped her. Okay. Maybe she'd been kind of a ho in the past, but he'd never thrown it in her face before. This wasn't like Zac. He was normally the one who encouraged her and stood by her. He'd always been there for her and was the one person besides Nana who'd always understood her. She told herself he was just pissed off and lashing out.

  She wanted to tell him about Jay, but now wasn't the right time. Given his current mood, he wouldn't take kindly to her choosing Jay over him and the band. She wanted him to like Jay and knew it would be better to tell him about their relationship after he'd cooled off.

  “I think,” Erin said, keeping her voice even, “we need to end this conversation before both of us say more we'll regret later.”

  Zac's voice was encased in arctic ice. “Yeah, like calling someone a selfish asshole.”

  She sighed. “I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry.”

  “Whatever.” The line went dead, and she knew Zac's cell hadn't dropped the call. He'd hung up on her.

  A cold, sick feeling stole over her. She hated the thought of Zac being mad at her. Maybe she'd been too hasty. Maybe he really did need her and wasn't just being a self-centered jerk. Tossing her cell onto the counter, she scrubbed her trembling hands over her face.

  “Morning, darlin'.”

  Despite the turmoil tying her insides into knots, Erin's body responded instantly to Jay's rich voice, the residue
of sleep making it a little raspy. She looked up to see him wheeling with long, fluid pushes of his tires into the kitchen, moving with a natural male grace that was undeniably sexy. He had on a black Harley-Davidson T-shirt and his usual ensemble of loose gray sweatpants and white socks. His blond hair was mussed from sleep, but he looked better, more rested than he had the last few days. His broad shoulders were back and more purposeful.

  Erin was heartened and hoped maybe today would be one of his good days, when his back pain wasn't so bad. “Hey,” she said, and tried to manage a smile.

  He wheeled over to her and tugged on her wrist, pulling her onto his lap and wrapping his strong arms around her. Then he gave her a slow, tender kiss that made her light-headed. When they parted, he studied her for a moment. “What's wrong?”

  She shrugged. “Nothing.”

  His brows went up in a way that said, Yeah, right. “Who were you talking to?”

  “You heard?”

  One corner of his mouth curved upward. “Kind of hard not to.”

  She puffed out a breath that stirred her bangs. “Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. It was just Zac.”

  “You two in a fight?”

  “Yeah.” Her stomach clenched again at the reminder. “He's being a shit.”

  Jay's forehead creased. “What did he say?”

  “He wants me to join him and the band on the tour.”

  “Oh.” Jay's expression went carefully blank and his arms tightened around her. “And what did you say? You gonna go?”

  “No.”

  His shoulders relaxed and he rested his forehead in the curve where her neck met her shoulder. “Good.”

  Erin's heart leaped, and she had to restrain herself from doing a happy dance. He was relieved. He didn't want her to go. He didn't want her to go. In that moment, something clicked into place for her.

  She'd wanted to believe it was all real, the way he seemed to be so into her, but a part of her had still been holding back, the part that had been burned too many times. She hadn't been able to give all of herself to him, but now the last vestiges of her fear were falling away.