“Bitches be bitches,” Zane said when Nick was all done. “What you gotta do, Nick…classic advice. You’ve already been moping around your house, yeah?”
Nick chuckled. “Yeah.”
“Okay, so now stop feeling sorry for yourself. Go out there and get laid. It’s the only cure.”
“Cure?”
“Yeah. Fuck the pain away. Trust me. It works.”
“But that’s—”
“Do it.” After another few seconds, he added, “It’s something you’re good at, man.”
Nick wasn’t going to argue with him, and he knew—having watched lots of his friends triumph over painful breakups—Zane’s advice was solid; he just didn’t know that he was ready. He thought maybe he wanted to feel sorry for himself a little longer. Why, he didn’t know—maybe it was because he wanted to give respect for and properly mourn the first deep love he’d ever had. That deserved more time than a week, didn’t it?
He wanted to fucking wallow and he was going to.
But when Gracie called him again, telling him they needed to do one of their old-fashioned movie nights, he agreed. He didn’t feel like being sad anymore, not around her, at any rate. He knew he’d still carry that heaviness in his heart for a time, but he was tired of hiding away from people…from his friends. He didn’t want to let Brina have that kind of hold over him. It wasn’t fair to his friends or himself, and he didn’t know that she deserved that much mourning.
So he picked up the pigsty he called home after eating a late lunch delivered by the Chinese restaurant and waited for his best friend to come spend time with him and help him keep his mind off the bullshit. He wasn’t going to ask himself anymore what he should do different or what he should try in order to convince Brina to stay. It didn’t feel right and he was pretty sure it wouldn’t work. No, he needed to let her go, and the sooner, the better.
He knew it was going to be hell trying, but he had to.
* * *
God, Gracie was a breath of fresh air. When she arrived, she was wearing clothes that would have been more appropriate for summer—a short skirt and baby doll tee. At least she wore a jacket over the outfit. She was all smiles, holding a bottle of wine and a giant bag of cheese popcorn, two DVDs tucked in her purse.
“You know it’s barely spring, right?”
“It’s nice enough outside.”
“Now. When you go home later, you’ll be freezing your ass off.”
She shrugged, grinning, and walked past him toward the kitchen. “I’ll survive.”
“Uh…you know there’s snow in the forecast for Saturday.”
She turned her head and grinned and then kept walking.
Why the fuck did he notice now, of all times, how creamy the back of her thighs looked? He was in a bit of a daze as he closed the front door and followed her. He swallowed. It had to be because of the whole Brina thing—he was messed up from head to toe, inside and out. Gracie was one of his best friends—no sexual attraction, no…
But when she threw her jacket on one of his kitchen chairs and turned around, he almost swallowed his tongue. Holy shit. She was a complete beauty.
No. No way. It had to be his messed up emotions, because Gracie wasn’t his type. She was the complete and total opposite of Sabrina, from her blonde hair to her squeaky-clean image. He tried to shut off that part of himself so he could focus on acting like the friend he was. “I suppose I’ll either have to break down and let you sleep in the guest bedroom so you can leave tomorrow morning when the sun’s out or I’ll have to lend you some warmer clothes for the drive home.”
She laughed as she opened the cabinet that held the wine glasses. “Geez, Nick, now you sound like my dad.” She was reaching for the top shelf and couldn’t quite reach.
All Nick noticed was the graceful curve of her torso…and the way the t-shirt hugged her breasts. He wanted to grab her right then and there and plant a passionate kiss on her, but nothing doing. He was out of his fucking mind. “Here. Let me get those.” He needed to get the night underway and start watching a movie before he did something supremely stupid.
Man…Sabrina had definitely fucked with his head. What the hell was wrong with him? Once he got the wine glasses down, he said, “Let’s have a drink first. I don’t think I want to sip it with cheese popcorn.”
Gracie giggled. “Yeah…I can’t think of any alcoholic drink that goes well with cheese popcorn. I just know this stuff’s good.”
“Care if I open it now?”
“No. Go ahead. I’ll go get the movie set up.”
He nodded but he was distracted. He watched her as she walked out of the kitchen into the living room and he let out a long sigh, closing his eyes. He had to get himself under control. He knew this was fucked-up emotions talking. He’d never been in love before only to have his heart trampled on, so he didn’t know how to handle it.
And he figured drinking was a stupid response as well.
So, the rest of the night, he didn’t trust himself and put himself on watch. He wanted to make a move so badly, but he knew that was out of the question. Instead, he did his best to try to treat Gracie like he normally would, and he watched the movies and behaved himself.
It was cold and dark out, and Nick offered to walk Gracie out to her car when it was time for her to leave. It wasn’t as cold as Nick had expected, and he was glad Gracie was wearing a jacket, but she stood on the street before getting in her car and asked, “You doin’ okay, Nick?”
“Yeah. Why?” Shit. So much for keeping his cool.
Gracie frowned, pulling her hair behind her shoulder. “I don’t know all that happened, but I know Sabrina did something to you—I don’t know what, but I just want you to know I’m here for you.”
Oh. He scoffed and shrugged, hoping she couldn’t see through him. “Eh, no big deal.” What didn’t help was that he didn’t know how much she knew. “I’m over it.”
He could see in her eyes that she didn’t believe him, but she didn’t say it. Instead, she got up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. “You’re a good guy, Nick.” He saw her lip twitch as she struggled with the next words. “Don’t let her wreck that about you.” And, before he could even reply, she had opened the car door and was seated. She revved the engine and pulled on her seatbelt, waving at Nick before driving off. He backed away from the car so she could leave, but it was a chore doing it, because he felt floored.
Nick realized he wasn’t built for all these damned emotions. That shit should have been left for someone better equipped on the planet, because it sure as hell wasn’t him.
Chapter Twenty-one
NICK WAS NO less confused when they hit the road again, but he knew one thing for certain: he was not going to make a move on Gracie, no matter how much he thought he cared for her. They were best friends and he had no clue how to act in a relationship. He’d wind up hurting her for sure.
Well, that and he didn’t trust himself anymore. Was he feeling those emotions about Gracie simply because he was still smarting and raw, thanks to Sabrina? He knew it was a definite possibility.
The first few hours on the bus were uncomfortable as hell. He tried to avoid eye contact but he had to at least say hi to her. He knew he’d have to actually talk to her at some point, but he didn’t think he’d ever feel ready to. Several times, Gracie gave him a smile or squeezed a shoulder in silence, sending quiet waves of support. It helped strengthen him.
Now that he was back in Brina’s presence, he knew for certain that his feelings for Gracie had been a simple desire for something different, something more—more than he could ever have with Brina, and he knew it. He ached for much more from her and knew she could never give it to him, not in a million years. He knew that her love for Monica was part of the problem, but he also suspected that she would never want more with or from Nick, with or without Monica in the picture…so why even try?
When they stopped someplace in the middle of nowhere in Nevada that evening for dinner, Brina
managed to get close to Nick, and as they walked outside the bus, she curled her arm in his so he could no longer avoid her.
He felt his body stiffen in response. No, he wasn’t repulsed by her, but she’d hurt him badly…maybe even worse than he’d realized. His psyche was trying to protect itself from more damage. He relaxed a little, though, because he was aware now. She couldn’t hurt him any worse than she already had.
Could she?
He couldn’t think of anything to say, so he kept his mouth shut. He barely heard her when she said, “I missed you, Nick.”
There was no helping the words coming from his lips. “What would Monica say to that?”
Her voice was typically cool but she kept her head leaning on him while they continued to walk. “Monica knows how I feel about you.”
“And how exactly is that?”
“You’re very special to me.”
He had to protect himself, but he knew it was impossible. He was already exposed, raw…and hopeful. “So what’s that mean anyway?” He kept walking, not ready to look her in the eyes. If he did, his demise would be spelled out. Part of his heart held out hope that she would say the three of them would find a way to make it work. He knew it happened sometimes—three people who cared for each other making a relationship work…but he knew it was rare and he didn’t know if those setups continued to function after the newness wore off. Still…part of him wanted to try. He knew Monica had no attraction to him and, aside from their acceptance of one another, he doubted she felt any special affinity for him, any more than he did her. Honestly, he suspected she viewed him the same way he did her—as competition.
He knew she was the victor, though, and he would only ever be second place.
“It means that I care about you very much.” She placed her hand on his chest and he stopped moving forward. He was focused on her lips at first, but he couldn’t stop his eyes from drifting upward. Once again, he was the helpless and fucking stupid moth, and Brina continued to burn brightly, tempting him to stay too close to her fire.
He scanned her eyes, looking for something, anything that would tell him it would work, but he knew he needed to wait for her words. He tried to speak but found that he was mute. As he struggled, trying to find the right words, she brought her lips to his and immersed him in a sensual kiss that moved every little thing inside him—a well of emotions, desire, and an unbridled need—for what, he didn’t know. But there was no stopping his response. His hands wrapped around her waist and held her close as he kissed her with the force of a thousand horses…and an almost broken man. He knew he didn’t dare speak afterward, because he didn’t trust anything he had to say. So he sucked in a slow breath and waited for her to say what was on her mind. “Nick, I really do care about you, but I don’t think you believe that. I just…” She looked down at his lips before returning her eyes to his. “Monica’s my soulmate, and she always will be. That’s something you need to know.”
Oh, God, part of him, the pathetic part that still hated his parents for their soulless marriage, wanted to ask her if and where he fit into that scheme, but the Nick of today, the one who projected the never-give-a-shit image, wanted no part of it.
Yeah…the real Nick knew he didn’t need to be a plaything—and he was beginning to realize that was all he would ever be to Brina.
She kissed him again and it almost dissipated his resolve. He was ready to be her willing slave, her whipping boy, her doormat, simply for the occasional taste of her, but the Nick who’d decided long ago that love was a sham, that finding a partner to journey through life with was bullshit, the guy who was the fucking drummer of world-famous Fully Automatic, who had friends who gave a shit, who had triumphed over his past, no matter how stupid it seemed—that Nick knew that if he did this, if he went through with it, that was it. He’d be a tragic nobody the rest of his life if he let Brina lord over him. He could sense that in himself.
He’d seen it in Monica, that need for attention and occasional morsels of love from this woman. He’d seen in their short time together how she hung on Brina’s every word, every glance, every nod of approval. He saw how she had to have those things from Brina, how her ego, her sense of self hung on them, and he couldn’t let himself become that way. He couldn’t let Brina decide how he felt about himself. He wasn’t going to let her have that kind of control over him, no matter how badly he wanted her.
He held her by the shoulders, as if to stave off what felt like another attack, and he searched her eyes. He couldn’t read her, had never been able to, and as much as he wanted to believe there was potential for eternal love there, he knew it wouldn’t be for him. He was sure of that. So he took a deep breath and tried to draw from a hidden pool of resolve when he said, “Brina…you are a hell of a bassist. I’m glad we found you for Val Hella…but I think you and I need to cool things off between us.”
With those words, he saw her normally icy eyes flare and she squinted at him. “What, Channing? You think there was something huge between us?”
He took another breath. What was it with her? “You don’t have to be bitchy, Brina.”
She clenched her jaw and darted her eyes back and forth, searching his, trying to find an answer to something, he had no idea what. Finally, she said, “You’re right.” She took a breath and he could see something stripped bare, as though maybe for one of those rare times she was going to be honest with him. Maybe she too felt as though she’d been laid raw from their all-consuming yet short relationship. After some time, she nodded and said, “Okay, Nick…yeah, you’re totally right. I’m pretty sure I love you, but, yeah, you got it right. You will always be second fiddle. You’ll always be just a boy toy—a loveable, amazing boy toy…but…”
She’d said in just a few sentences everything Nick had known in the back of his mind, deep in his heart. All that threw him off was the fact that she said she was “sure” she loved him. He hadn’t sensed anything like love coming from her before.
A theory started to gel in his mind, and he credited it to the fact that he’d spent time away from her. He believed it was the distance that enabled him to see the forest she was instead of focusing on her individual trees. He wondered if she sought him out when she was lonely and aching for the person she really loved…or wanted to be with. He was beginning to doubt if she could actually love someone.
He was starting to think she was too selfish to.
So, as much as he loved her, he had to walk away. He took her arm and laced it back in his and, without a word, began walking again so they could catch up to the rest of their group. “I think we’re going to have to agree to be friends, Brina.”
Her face looked like stone and Nick thought maybe she was, once more, hiding what she was feeling, a problem he’d had with her from the beginning. She hid everything she thought and felt—or maybe she simply didn’t think or feel anything when it came to him. He saw her jaw set as though concrete had solidified and she said, “If that’s what you want, Channing.”
He didn’t know that it was what he wanted, but he was fuckin’ sure it was what he needed.
Chapter Twenty-two
BY THE BAND’S next break, a one-week hiatus late summer before touring overseas, Nick’s heart felt less raw. He’d buried his heartache in occasional groupie pussy on the road, just like Zane had suggested, but the problem now was that it only took the edge off the hurt. Now that he’d actually found a space in his heart for a woman, he felt an emptiness without her. It was something he would have described as poignant had anyone bothered to ask.
The biggest problem was that hardly anyone even knew how much Brina had meant to him. That was mostly his fault—he knew that. But no way now would he say shit about it to anyone. He now understood that he was, in her own words, nothing more than a boy toy to her. That had probably been more painful than anything else she’d said. He understood that Monica was Brina’s everything, but to be told, after all they’d gone through and after everything he’d felt about her, tha
t he was a mere plaything left a wound that would take a while to heal—if he could ever fully recover from that blow. Worst yet, he’d finally managed to move past the wall he’d built when trying to protect himself from the scars his parents’ failed relationship had caused, and all the shit with Brina had done had been to reaffirm that he’d been right to begin with.
After a couple of days of trying to get through to him, Brina gave up and resumed her usual cold self.
Good fucking riddance.
If her bass playing had suffered, he might have found a way to talk to her, but she made it easy on him. She picked up her own share of groupie pussy, and everyone was happy.
Happy-ish.
Gracie called Nick the day before Val Hella was slated to leave the country, offering to help him pack. He’d told her he was more than capable of getting himself ready to go, but she insisted. Besides, she said, she had the night off and needed something to do. She needed to get out of the house, away from kids and wedded bliss and all that bull crap. She wanted to hang with someone real, she said…whatever the hell that meant. So he relented and asked her to bring beer and he’d pay her back when she got there.
He had his luggage spread on his bed when he heard the doorbell ring. He turned his head toward the bedroom door and shouted so she’d hear him outside the front door. “Come in!”
After less than a minute, he heard her voice. “Where are you?”
“In the bedroom.”
Gracie made her way in there, reminding Nick of the last time she’d been in that room…the time they’d accidentally slept together.
Only now, as his mind conjured up those images, he realized it hadn’t been an accident. Deep down, he knew this woman meant more to him than he’d ever admitted. She was kind, thoughtful, and cared about Nick inside and out. He could remember their unbridled passion, the way their bodies had seemed to fit together perfectly, all the sweet and sexy things that had tumbled out of her mouth.
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