“Yeah yeah. I'll talk to you later. Have fun and tell Em I say Congrats.”
“I will. Love you.” I say, quickly ending the call and then immediately dialing Emma's number.
It goes straight to voice mail for the fifth time in the last hour and honestly, I'm starting to worry.
Now I understand what I put her through when she would try to get a hold of me when I would up and disappear with Zayne for two days. Deciding to shoot her a quick text, I pull up my messages and start typing but before I have a chance to press send, I hear keys and then a red faced Emma pushes her way inside.
“Em!” I exclaim, pushing up from my seat on the couch. “Where have you been?”
“Sorry Gracie. Just a few people I needed to say goodbye to before tomorrow. My phone died.” She says, tossing her keys and dead cell phone on the island before making her way into the living room and plopping down on the opposite end of the couch.
I settle back into my seat and then turn my attention to her. Something is off, I can feel it. While her appearance is crisp and perfect as usual, there's something not quite right and I can feel it in my gut. Whether it's intuition or just the simple fact that I have known her my whole life and I can read her like a book. Either way, I know.
“Everything okay?” I ask, shifting my position to face her.
“Yeah... Fine.” She breathes, propping her feet up on the coffee table. “This whole thing is just exhausting. I didn't realize how much goes into touring.” She sighs, running her hands through her long, light brown hair.
“I know I will only be gone for a few months but leaving... I don't know, it's a lot harder than I thought it would be.” She turns her eyes on me and only then do I see the tears welling behind them.
“Emma Davenport.” I say, scooting next to her on the couch and wrapping my arm around her shoulder. “You were born to do this. You are going to go out there and experience everything life has to offer. You are going to see the country and meet fans. You are going to live your dream. And you are going to have so much fun doing it, by the time it's over, you're not going to want to come back.” I say, squeezing her to me.
“I know. But leaving you..... You came here for me Grace and now I am leaving you here alone.” She says, a slight tremor in her voice. While I don't doubt she will miss me, this isn't typical Emma behavior and I can't help but feel like this isn't just about me.
“I'm not alone. I have Carver and Alec and Becca and Jake. And...”
“Zayne?” It's more of a question off her lips then a statement.
“Yes.” I answer confidently. “And Zayne. And I am going to be just fine. Of course I will miss the hell out of you but Carver has been well trained and I think will at least keep me from pulling my hair out or jumping off of a building.” Emma's eyes immediately go wide.
“Don't say things like that Grace.” She scolds. “It's not funny.”
“I never said it was funny. But that's the point isn't it? To find humor where there is none? Besides, you know what I mean. Carver will keep me safe, grounded. I'm in good hands.” I say, reassuring her.
“Is there something else bothering you?” I can't help but voice the question even though I know that she won't give me anything unless she really wants to.
“No. I'm just stressed is all.” She blows off my question which is a tell tale sign that something is off. I choose not to push it. If there's one thing you can say about people who have known each other their whole lives, it's that we know when to push and when to let things go.
“Well shake it off sister because tonight we are sending you off in style.” I say, pushing up off the couch and holding my hands out for her.
“Come on. Let's go get all dolled up and drink the night away.” I say, pulling her up when she takes my hands.
“So let me get this straight. We have Carver, an extremely hot and easily distracted man, acting as our chaperone while we venture the streets of New York City and drink all our cares away?” She says, lifting an eyebrow for added effect. “And none of this has bad idea written all over it for you?” She laughs.
“Oh please. It's the Morgan and Davenport show.” I say, wrapping my arm around her as we walk towards her bedroom. “The way I see it, if something doesn't go wrong, then there's a problem.”
I drop my arm from her shoulder and spin to face her in the hallway.
“You are my sister, you know that right. No matter what happens or how famous you become, you will always be my sister and I will always be here for you. You know that don't you?”
Tears well behind her eyes and within seconds they are streaming down her face. “Em...” She holds her hand up to stop me from hugging her.
“I'm okay. Happy tears.” She says, gesturing to her face. “And you are my sister too Gracie. Always and forever.”
“Now that the sad stuff is out of the way, I say you dress me in whatever ridiculous outfit you will end up forcing me to wear anyways and we go out and live it up.” I say, giving her a wide smile.
“Wait, so you're going to wear whatever I pick without a fight?” She steps back, a look of sheer disbelief widening her soft brown eyes.
“It's the last time I'm going to see you for months. I prefer not to waste my evening fighting the inevitable. Go ahead Em, do your worst.” I say, holding my arms out to my sides in surrender.
“Ahhh.” Emma squeals, grabbing my hands and pulling me into her bedroom. “Oh my god this is awesome.” She sings, making her way across the small space.
“Remember, no arguing.” She says, reemerging from her closet in ten seconds flat, an article of clothing hiding behind her back.
“Em?” I question, suddenly very nervous.
“You trust me right?” She asks, a slow smile falling into place.
“Yessssss.” I drag out.
“Tada!” She exclaims, pulling out a tiny red number that makes all the other dresses she's put me in seem modest in comparison.
“Oh Em, I don't know.” I start, quickly stopping when her expression clearly tells me not to argue. “Fine.” I sigh, grabbing the red dress from her. “A deal is a deal.”
“This is going to be so much fun.” She sings, skipping back towards the closet and pulling out an equally skimpy looking silver number.
“Go get changed and meet me in the bathroom in fifteen. Hair and makeup is on me tonight!” She chimes just as I exit the bedroom.
Holding up the scrap of material in front of me, I realize that the only option I really have is to embrace it. Besides, Emma has never steered me wrong before, even when I am convinced she has lost her mind.
I shoot Carver a quick text to let him know we will be ready in about an hour and then quickly slip into the red dress that hugs tight to my bust and then flows free, landing about six inches above my knee. It's not as revealing as I originally thought and has a lot of give in the material so it doesn't feel like it's painted on my body.
The straps are about an inch thick and the neckline plunges dangerously low. Making a mental note to be mindful that my girls don't come toppling out at some point during the night, I quickly make my way to the bathroom where Emma has already begun primping and teasing away at her own hair.
Approximately ninety minutes later, we are dressed to the nines and following a very handsome, suit wearing Carver out of our apartment. I can't remember a time when I was so excited to go out with my friends. To live and laugh and just be twenty-two.
If nothing else, Zayne has given me this. The ability to experience life as it is meant to be experienced. As I climb into the car behind my two best friends, I can't help but feel anything but extremely blessed.
Chapter Fifteen
The lights flash and the music pulsates all around me, sending thumping vibrations through every inch of my body. You would think that after four different bars and crashing a wine tasting party, we would be on our way home by now but Emma was hearing nothing of it.
“We are here to celebrate and damn it, c
elebrate is what we are going to do.” She had slurred at me well over an hour ago as we were ushered inside of Serenity. How Carver managed to get us in on such short notice is beyond me, but apparently his uncle's contact is proving more than a little useful.
Especially when in a bind and dealing with a drunk princess who insisted that this is where we needed to end our night. I nearly bowed over in relief when the bouncer raised the red rope and let us pass.
At this point, my buzz is fleeting and my feet feel like I have spent the last four hours dancing on broken glass. Of course, that's what I get for thinking that four inch heels is a good idea for a night of bar hopping.
“Bathroom.” Emma yells to me over the roaring music. I nod and proceed to follow her through the sea of people crowding the dance floor, reaching out to grab the back of her dress a couple of times when I am almost certain that she is going to take a nose dive into the floor.
Somehow we manage to make it to the back of the establishment and down the hall to the restrooms with no real injuries to report, though Emma is swaying and nearly falls into the stall when I hold the door open for her.
I knew better than to let her drink this much but once she has her mind set on something, there is very little one can do to change it.
“You okay in there Em?” I ask through the shiny silver stall door when she falls silent. She gives me a grunt before saying she will be right out. If I didn't know any better, I would say she just dozed off in there. Fat chance she would admit to it even if I called her out on it.
I step to the sink and peer at my reflection in one of the long rectangle mirrors that line the back wall. My face is flushed, all but my eye makeup is long gone. My hair has held up pretty well, though a good portion of the front is matted and stuck to my sweaty forehead.
I hear a sob rip from Emma's stall and instantly panic floods through me. “Em. Em open up. Are you okay?” I ask, crossing the small space in the matter of seconds and practically beating down the door.
She sobs louder, sinking onto the bathroom floor. I can tell because I can see her feet sticking out the side of the stall.
“Em? What's wrong. Open the door.” I plead, completely taken aback by my friend's sudden and seemingly out of no where breakdown.
“How can he do that? How can he act like that when I told him.... when I told him?” She cuts off, losing herself in her tears.
“Em, who are you talking about? Did someone hurt you?” I ask, trying to keep the panic from my voice.
Confusion mingles with the after effects of way too much alcohol and I suddenly feel like I am in the twilight zone. Everything feels masked and unclear and it's extremely unsettling and yet, I can't shake it.
“Em.” I say softly through the door when her sobs lighten to a soft sniffling. “Em, open the door.”
“Shit Grace. I knew better. This is my fault. I did this.” She says, finally reaching up to unlock the door and shoving it open.
I step back to allow the door to open completely and am not at all surprised by the sight before me. My beautiful, fire cracker best friend, dressed to kill in what has to be one of the sexiest dresses ever made and of course, sprawled out on a dirty bathroom floor with black streaks of mascara running down her face.
I shake my head sadly at her and do what any true friend would do. I slide down against the stall and take a seat next to her on the floor of a public bathroom. Draping my arm over her shoulder, I pull her into my side.
“Em. What's all this about?” I ask, not trying to hide my confusion. It would appear as though she is very upset about a guy and yet I had no idea she was even talking to anyone, let alone involved enough to be this upset over them.
As if just realizing that I am here, she lifts her head from my shoulder, her eyes going wide the moment she registers my face. Body stiffening, she pulls out of my embrace and quickly pushes herself from the floor.
Stepping over my legs, she stumbles to the mirror and begins wiping away the black streaks from her cheeks with a wet paper towel, her body swaying from side to side showing clear signs of her intoxication.
I shift my weight and pull up on the side bar to lift myself back into a standing position, my feet protesting the second they meet the floor. Mindful of the pain now radiating from beneath my shoes, I slowly make my way towards the sinks and take a spot directly to Emma's right.
“Em.” I say, reaching out hesitantly to touch her arm. She jumps at the contact and then seems to calm down.
“You okay?” I ask.
She takes a deep breath and studies herself in the mirror for a few seconds before responding. “Grace. I'm in love with Alec.” The words come out of her mouth so quickly, I swear I must have heard her wrong.
“What?” I don't try to hide my confusion.
“Don't act like you didn't hear me Grace.” She bites at me, her eyes meeting mine in the mirror before she turns to face me. “I. Am. In. Love. With. Alec.” She stops between each word as if saying it this way will somehow make me believe her. As if I wouldn't believe her if she just spit it out like a normal person.
“I'm sorry. I don't understand. When have you spent anytime with Alec that would lead to such feelings?” I ask, trying very hard to reel in the claws and not be a total bitch to my very best friend and approach this rationally.
“Oh my god Grace. You aren't the only person that exists in this world, you realize that right? I talk to other people, hang out, have friends. Just because you're not around enough to notice, doesn't mean I don't.” She bites at me, her hand flying to her hip giving me the famous Davenport attitude.
“Of course. Of course I know that Em. I didn't mean...” I stumble on my words. Stopping, I take a deep breath and then continue.
“I wasn't implying that you don't have friends, I just didn't realize that Alec was one of them.” I say, apologetic. “When did this happen?” I ask, hoping that she will drop the defensive act and just open up to me.
“It's been happening since the first night you disappeared. You know, the time you were with Zayne but lied to everyone, including me about it?” She throws me a vicious look and then continues.
“I called Alec looking for you, we ended up talking, started hanging out, and now..... Well now I'm leaving and the asshole doesn't even care.” She says, exasperated.
“Em, I'm sure he cares.” I start, but she holds her hand up to cut me off.
“No.” She says, so seriously my body literally freezes. I am fearful to move, hell to even breathe for that matter. This is a side to Em that I have seen only one other time and it was shortly after I returned from my three day stay in the psychiatric ward after attempting to take my own life. She was so upset with me, I thought I had lost her forever over that.
But I didn't. Somehow she stuck by me through it all and I will never take that for granted. I know how extremely lucky I am to have her and if right now she needs to yell and be angry, then I am more than happy to be her punching bag if that's what it takes.
“I told him Grace. I told him I loved him and you want to know what he said to me?” She asks, new tears now rolling down her cheeks.
“He said that I don't really love him. That I am young and emotional because I am leaving and pretty much implied that I don't even know what love is. But I do know what love is. I know it because of him. Because of how he makes me feel. And he loves me too Grace.” She says, pausing to calm herself.
“He loves me. I can tell by the way he looks at me. Even if he won't admit it. I know there is only one reason that he is pushing me away and it's you.” She says, locking her brown eyes on me.
“He won't be with me because it's not fair to you! Can you believe that bullshit? You! The person who has been FUCKING his best friend for weeks behind his back. You Grace!” She screams, her finger flying up to point in my face. “And I can't even fucking tell him!”
Instinctively I take a few steps back to put some space in between us.
“I accepted long ago that y
ou would always outshine me in every way possible and you know what, I was okay with that. Because I loved you and I wanted so desperately for you to be happy. I was okay being Grace Morgan's best friend. Grace Morgan, the girl whose boyfriend died practically in her arms. The girl who was so brokenhearted she nearly took her own life. The beauty, the pain. The one and only Grace Morgan.” Her words are dripping like acid now and it's my turn to let the tears fall.
I have no idea why she is doing this but pretending her words are not cutting me like a knife is impossible. I swipe at my tears and meet her eyes.
“What the hell are you talking about Em? What have I done to you that is so horrible?” I ask, taking a step closer but then stopping when she takes a step back.
“Don't you see? Ever since Kyle died, you have been everyone's priority. Everyone has to tip toe around Grace and make sure she doesn't get too sad. Well no more! What about me Grace? When is it my turn to be happy? When is everyone going to finally just tell you to put your big girl panties on and suck it the fuck up?” She rounds on me, this time her taking two steps in my direction until only about a foot separates us.
“Kyle is dead Grace! He's dead. He's been dead for five years! You need to move on. You need to let the people who love you be free.”
“I.... I......” I stammer out, unable to form words in the current situation. I know that she's drunk and she's upset so she's lashing out on me but a big part of me can't help but feel like she is finally telling me how she really feels for the first time in a very long time.
“You what Grace? You're sorry? Don't you get it? I don't need your apology, I need you to stop getting in my fucking way!” She screams practically in my face just as the bathroom door swings open.
“Enough!” Alec's voice is harsh and demanding and Emma physically shrinks in his presence. “Zayne get her the hell out of here.” He bites, gesturing towards me.
I don't even see Zayne until he's right in front of me, throwing an arm around my shoulder and leading me from the bathroom. As soon as we enter the darkened hall, I push back, wanting to go back in there with Em but Zayne's grip holds tight.
Embrace (Two Hearts Book 2) Page 10