The problem was that, deep down, Nick couldn’t believe that about Brina. She just didn’t seem capable.
She couldn’t even find it in her heart to be a good girlfriend to Nick, even when he desperately needed it. He’d caught her texting again—twice since the last time—and not only did she make no apologies for it, she made Nick feel like her behaviors were somehow his fault.
Gracie, though…she really was the best friend Nick could ever have asked for. He never did ask Brad what he would have done in his situation, and he didn’t know that the guy was the right person to ask anyway—he’d loved Val forever and probably would still be pining after the woman if she was still married to Ethan. He’d never done anything untoward, but that didn’t mean his heart hadn’t been a fucking mess.
Yeah, Brad wasn’t the person to ask.
He wasn’t going to ask Gracie anymore either, but she didn’t say anything anyway. Still…she knew he needed her, and without saying one goddamn word, she made his entire week, just with a sweet friendship card she left in his bunk one day.
The card was simple and maybe even sappy, but it was somehow everything he needed to hear:
A true friend is always there.
A real friend always loves you.
Your best friend accepts you for who you are,
And I am so happy I am that friend for you.
The more he stared at the prefab words, the more he wondered why people got paid to write that shit. Sure, the sentiment was nice, but it was overstated and overly sentimental. What she wrote below it, though, was what mattered the most:
Always here for you, Nick. Love you so much, and I’m here if you ever need to talk or hang or drink half a keg.
She even signed it with a smiley face. Nick was lying in a hotel bed two days later next to sleeping Brina, wondering why she couldn’t be more like Gracie. Then he felt guilty. He knew he didn’t really want to change Brina, because he’d fallen in love with the woman she was, but he was tired of feeling like she didn’t love him back, like she even despised him sometimes. Why was she even with him?
Over the past couple of weeks, he’d been so proud of her. She’d really come into her own and grown used to bigger audiences. She learned to draw them in just by being herself. They were really starting to love her as much as they loved the rest of the band, and Nick relished witnessing it from his spot on the stage. Every once in a while, she’d make eye contact with him too, reminding him of one of the many ways she ignited his fires.
He rolled on his side and pulled Brina close, shoving his nose in her hair and breathing it in. He nuzzled her neck and kissed her, hoping that maybe the love he felt would permeate and thaw her chilled heart.
She stirred and stretched and shoved her hand into his hair. “Oh, baby. You gonna fuck me again before you go to sleep?”
Nick allowed himself to reel in the love he felt for her. “I want to make love to you, Brina. I want to tell you all the things my lips can’t say.” If he could, he’d write a song for her, but he got the feeling that a woman like Sabrina wouldn’t be impressed with that. He had only himself to give, and he hoped that would be enough.
He reached behind himself in the dark, feeling for the condoms he’d left on the nightstand. Ever since their indiscretion, he made sure the condoms were easier to find and use. He wanted to be a father someday, but not now and definitely not with Sabrina until she was ready.
As he kissed the back of her neck again, he slid his hand up her torso to cup one of her breasts, the nipple already firm, responding to his attention and the promise of something more. He moved his lips up her graceful neck to below her ear, kissing more firmly until she turned her head to meet her lips with his. His erection was pressing into her ass, and he didn’t know how long he could wait.
He slid his hand back down her belly. He needed to make sure she was ready, and if she was, he wasn’t going to delay any longer. Still naked from their earlier romp, she didn’t have panties on that would fetter his access, so he glided his finger down her slit and found that she was more than ready. One thing he’d say about Brina—it seemed like she always was, in spite of the icy vibes she often put out.
He slid his cock inside her and she moaned, fisting his hair. Nick didn’t want to focus on the orgasm he knew was imminent. Instead, he wanted to put all his thought into the love he had for this woman, the feelings he had for her that he’d never felt for any other woman. He wanted to communicate that through their joining, wanted to have his body say the words he couldn’t grab onto. His lips rested on her neck as the intense sensations overrode anything else and he could no longer concentrate on anything other than waiting until she came. When she did, he let go and, once the fog cleared from his brain, he whispered, “I love you.”
No, it wasn’t a mistake or a slip of the tongue. It was the truth and it was what his heart needed to say.
She didn’t say anything back. Instead, she rolled over and stroked his cheek before giving him one of the sweetest kisses she’d ever bestowed upon him before snuggling in his arms and drifting off to sleep.
Nick knew that was as close as she’d ever get to saying I love you back.
* * *
It was near the middle of April, the pregnancy scare behind them, and they were due for a two-week break in the tour. After the show that night, their driver would be taking them back to Colorado for a much-needed rest. They’d hit the road again with another band, their leg with the boys of Last Five Seconds over, and then in the fall, they were going to do a small European tour, thanks to their success in the States.
Nick hoped that, during their time off, he could have long, uninterrupted talks with Brina and get to the bottom of everything.
That was before he caught her fervent block-out-the-rest-of-the-world texting again. This time, she wasn’t secretive about it at all. She sat in a gray folding chair backstage and she completely ignored Nick when he told her they had snacks in a room just offstage. The venue had gone to a lot of trouble trying to make Val Hella feel welcome, and since Brina hadn’t seen it yet, he wanted her to know what a nice job the folks in charge had done.
He might have been okay with a typical buzz off, but she didn’t even acknowledge him. It was like he didn’t even exist.
He cleared his throat.
No response.
Then he got closer to her.
Still no response.
“Holy shit. There’s a fire. We have to get the fuck out of here!”
She finally looked up, one eyebrow cocked, and then she frowned and began texting again, but she didn’t say a word.
“What the fuck, Brina? You don’t talk to me anymore?”
“I’m busy, Nick. What? You a baby? Need my constant attention?”
Nick felt his blood heat up as it began charging through his veins, making his heart beat double-time, and it felt to him like his double bass drums. He wanted to be cool and calm, though, because for some reason, this woman evoked such deep emotions in him, and exploding would only make her colder. Somehow, he knew that. So he gritted his teeth and then took a deep breath before speaking. “No, Brina, but a little attention would be nice.”
She actually looked up from her phone screen then. “No, Nick, you don’t want a little attention, or you would have been happy when I just looked at you.”
That actually sounded right…but that was how they would be if they’d been in a puppy/ master relationship. Her words spoke volumes and rang clear in his head. But he needed more. He wasn’t even going to acknowledge her statement and instead aimed for the core. “Who are you texting?” He wanted to add that’s obviously more important than me.
She sneered. “None of your goddamned business.”
He couldn’t help but smile. “Maybe not, but it tells me that you don’t care about me. You never have.”
That got her attention. “That’s not true.”
As much as he wanted to continue the back-and-forth, he wanted truth, and maybe she was
willing to give it. “I love you, Brina. Do you love me?”
The look on her face pained him. He could see it all over her features and, no matter what words she said, he knew what her answer was before she said a thing. It felt like his guts were imploding on themselves as the realization washed over him. What pissed him off the most was that he should have known better. Women were a fucking pain in the ass…and he’d seen it all firsthand. His mom and dad, the mannequins—all the stupid women who’d tried to rope him into a relationship he’d neither wanted nor needed. Why hadn’t he seen it coming? Why had he thought Brina would be any different? Because she sure as hell wasn’t. No way. She was a cold, cast-iron bitch who didn’t care about anyone but herself…and it didn’t matter how she answered. She could gloss it all over with a smooth lie, but Nick wouldn’t hear it, because he could see her feelings all over her features.
She stood and looked at him, and probably for one of the only times in their stormy relationship, he thought he saw an inkling of humanity in her, a little empathy in her eyes. “Oh, Nick.” She stroked his cheek, and it took everything in him to not flinch. “I care about you so much…and we’ve had a lot of fun, haven’t we?” He pulled in a breath but kept it calm, doing his damnedest to keep his emotions buried deep inside. He felt his jaw ripple—there wasn’t much he could do about that. “You know I still love Monica, don’t you?”
Yeah. There it was. The truth. The real truth—the one she’d been hiding from him all along. Part of him was angry with her to the core, because he felt like she’d been leading him along, all so she could make herself feel better, but he knew the real liar here had been himself. He’d wanted her so badly, wanted to believe she could and would love him back, that he hadn’t accepted or admitted that someone like Brina would never love him. He nodded, unable to say anything. He hoped his face was frozen like he was trying to make it. She had to know it hurt him—that he loved her and she couldn’t reciprocate—but he didn’t need to make it big. He didn’t want her to someday have that satisfaction.
Should he have known? Yeah, but he’d taken Brina at her word. He was beginning to wonder if she and Monica had ever actually broken up or if she’d just said that so she could play with Nick on the road. He supposed that, ultimately, it really didn’t matter. It was all in the past now, and he had to find a way to carry on.
Before he walked away, he managed to ask, “That who you’re texting?”
He could see another cold answer forming in her eyes, but before she answered, they softened, and she said, “Yeah.”
As he made his way toward the stage, Nick said, “Send her my regards.”
He heard her calling his name as he continued putting one foot in front of the other, but he had to block it out, because he had a job to do. He could hurt later, could deal with this shit later, but he had one last show, and his poor drums were going to get the beating of their life.
Chapter Twenty
NICK COULD HONESTLY say he’d never felt this low. Once he’d left his parents’ house as a teenager, his outlook had been bright. He’d vowed to never let anyone get him down and to always protect his heart.
Somehow, he’d fucked up. He’d let Sabrina in and what had she done? She’d shredded his heart harder than Brad shredded his axe on a nightly basis. Yeah, she’d done it well too, because Nick was starting to think he’d never want to get close to a woman again.
Ever.
He likened the destruction of his heart to what prehistoric man had done to the jungles of ancient earth. They’d razed forests in their attempt to grow food, and Sabrina had done the same thing to his soul—she’d done an expert slash-and-burn maneuver on him, and he doubted he’d ever recover. He hadn’t known until now that he wasn’t equipped to handle those kinds of emotions, and he just knew he was gonna be fucked for life. He was ruined for all women and all because of Brina’s selfish needs. He knew now—he’d been nothing but a plaything for her and he was exposed and bleeding…dying.
Zane had called once but Nick didn’t answer. He didn’t need his old friend knowing what a pussy he’d turned out to be. Zane had often called Nick a master because, for some reason, he’d been really good at getting women into bed. He had no idea how he did it—he didn’t promise love everlasting, and fairly often he wouldn’t even promise they’d have a good time. Nowadays, he knew his rock star status was the explanation, but back in the day? All he could figure was it was because of his sense of humor. He made women laugh, and that was worth its weight in gold. One girl had called him cute, and he figured that was what did it. He was funny and cute.
Now, though, he didn’t know that he wanted to even get that close. Okay, yeah, he would. He loved the feel of a woman’s body too much. Sure, his hand worked just fine, but there was nothing like the smell of a woman—the sounds she made, the taste of her lips and skin, the—
Shit. Now he was just torturing himself.
He looked around the living room in his house, disgusted with himself. There was shit everywhere—dishes, trash, dirty clothes. After their last show, he’d joined the celebration long enough to make an appearance and say goodbye to their friends in Last Five Seconds, and then he’d gone to his bunk on the bus and stayed there until they got to Denver. Once he got home, he pulled his luggage in the door and closed it, fell on the couch, and turned on HBO. The luggage was still parked by the front door. He’d had everything delivered to him over the last week and his assistant—the woman he paid to handle his mail and bills while he was away and clean up after him while he was in town—had tried to arrange three times to meet with Nick, but he’d deflected her, saying he was sick.
Sick in the head, maybe.
He sat on the couch, trying to will himself to get his ass in the shower and then wash all the laundry he’d brought back from tour. He needed to get ready to go back on the road, but he was in no state to do it.
Yeah, Brina had called a few times too, but he wasn’t answering her calls either. He was glad she didn’t know where he lived, because he thought she might try to come over. Why, he didn’t know, but she said she was worried about him. He texted her and told her he was fine, but she wasn’t buying it.
Like she really cared.
Gracie had texted once, asking if he wanted to do a movie night and he’d used the I’m sick excuse with her as well. He didn’t call, because he knew she’d be able to hear it in his voice. A text, short and sweet, was the easiest way to keep emotion out. His reputation as a fun-loving, easygoing guy without a care in the world would remain intact.
He looked at his phone again. It was a little after eleven o’clock. He sighed and then forced himself to stand up. If he could just shower, that would be a big accomplishment.
So he did, and he had to admit that he felt lots better. He still felt like shit, though. Baby steps—that was what he needed. Today, the shower. Tomorrow, a few groceries for the week. The day after, laundry and dealing with the mail and shit. Then he could spend the last few days getting ready for the next leg of the tour. Today, though, he managed to clean himself up, and he was going to consider that good. Now, he’d figure out where he wanted takeout from and figure out if there was an old show he’d never watched that he could go on a viewing marathon of, something to drown out the regrets.
When he sat down on the couch with a can of soda and a menu from the Chinese place he liked to order from, he picked up his cell and saw that he’d missed another call from Zane. He frowned. He really needed to call his friend and see how his other bandmates were doing.
He sighed, drawing a deep breath in through his nose, and then returned the call. He hoped it wasn’t too late on the other side of the world. He had no idea what time it was there. Well, if it was late, Zane wouldn’t pick up the phone and Nick could leave a message.
But Zane picked up the phone and sounded alert. “Nick! I was beginning to think you were blowing off your old friend.” After a pause, he added, “Asshole.”
Nick smiled in spite of
how he’d been feeling. “Dude, you know I could never blow you off, even if I wanted to. You’re like a bad girlfriend. You never leave, not even when I get a restraining order against you.”
“Bad girlfriends are all you can snag, man.”
The typical banter with Zane had felt good at first, like just what he’d needed, but Zane’s comment brought it all back. Yeah, he’d gone for years without a girlfriend and it had felt great, but then he found a woman that he thought was the shit, and what had that gotten him? He couldn’t help but be honest, having been caught in that spot at just the right time. “Fuck me. You got that right.”
Zane was quiet for a few seconds, and Nick was glad his friend was taking him seriously. “What’s going on, man? Anything you want to talk about?”
Nick debated for a few seconds. If there was anyone he could talk to about Sabrina, it was Zane. “Only if you got time.”
“Hell. That’s all I got. We’re done for the day…and have you ever tried finding some action in a foreign country when your wingman’s married with children?”
Nick knew Zane was referring to Ethan, but Ethan and Jenna only had one child—a little girl who wasn’t too much younger than Hayley. “Leaves more women for you, doesn’t it?”
“Eh, I guess. I’m ready to come home. I don’t know why Ethan thought it would be such a great idea to record overseas.”
“He thought it would be just the inspiration you needed.”
“Yeah, but not enough to make it worth our time. Anyway, man, you’re avoiding the question. Talk.”
Nick took another deep breath and gave Zane the short and sweet version…the story about the hot but amazing bassist who just happened to be bisexual and had grabbed Nick by the heart. He left out the part about how much he really had grown to care about her, but he knew his friend would pick up on it. There was no avoiding it, really. He wouldn’t have been in such a shitty mood had Sabrina been just another lay.
Bullet Series Box Set Books 1-8 Page 157