Chapter Twelve
Walking into Finnegan’s, I’m relieved I beat Bo here. I need to find a place and settle into the scenery as I navigate our “friendship.”
“Ember, over here!” Regan waves from a table directly in front of the stage.
Oh good ...
“What’s with the up close and personal seating?” I tease as I sit next to him.
“I’ve heard this guy’s good, and I want to be able to hear him. How was your week?”
I lean back in my chair, trying my best to come up with a description of the week. I worked rather cordially with Bo, was verbally and emotionally assaulted by Ainsley, and was asked to be Bo’s friend. However, I had an over-the-top amazing night and morning with Adrian, and now I’m sitting next to a hot ex-Pat waiting to watch Bo play.
“Interesting.” I take a sip of my beer.
“November?” A familiar but out-of-place voice cuts through the bar chatter.
I turn around to find Rachel Cavanaugh walking toward me with a hopeful, but cautious smile. Relief bathes my nerves. I admit I was worried Bo would try to pull a stunt to try to stay the night, but seeing his sister here means he’s playing it smart.
“Rae? I didn’t know you were coming. Awesome!” I hug her and pull out a chair. “This is Regan Kane, he’s a wicked fiddle player. Regan, this is Bo’s sister, Rachel.”
“Please, call me Rae.” She morphs her lips into an endearing smile and shakes his hand.
“Rae, it’s a pleasure. Can I get you a beer?”
Rae drops her hand and keeps smiling. “No, thank you, I don’t drink. I’ll take some water, though.” Regan nods and heads to the bar.
“I’m happy you’re here. Was this your idea or his? Where is he?” I scan the area behind her.
“Mine. I refuse to let him make an ass out of himself. He’s on probation since that little maneuver on your first day at DROP. He went in the back entrance.” She rolls her eyes at what I assume is his version of what happened in the diner. “Anyway,” she continues, “where in the hell have you been hiding that hottie?” Rae nods her head toward Regan.
“Ha! I just met him last week. He’s our drummer’s cousin.”
“Way to keep him for yourself.” Rae stares at me in mock accusation, and it causes me to blush. It’s clear she feels the same sisterly connection between us that I instantly felt upon my first meeting with her.
“Rae, to be honest, I assumed you had a boyfriend.”
Regan returns in time to hear her response. “No, guys my age are idiots. Thanks for the water, Regan. How old are you?”
“You’re welcome, and, twenty-five.”
“Perfect.” She grins and brings the straw to her lips.
My eyebrows shoot up. “Seriously? I thought you were, like, thirty.”
Regan laughs into his beer. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“You’re just refreshingly mature.”
Before he can respond, the bartender takes the stage and announces Bo. My fingers tingle, and I feel slightly dizzy. I notice that Rae is staring at me and I’m thankful that Regan isn’t. I tilt my chin to the stage to somehow reassure her that everything’s fine. Bo comes out wearing black jeans and a green t-shirt. The green t-shirt he told me reminded him of my eyes. I swallow hard as he sits on the stool, and, without saying a word, starts strumming.
Every feeling from the first night I heard him play flies through me like a drunken seagull. I take several deep breaths as he makes his way through his original work, praying that what I’m feeling isn’t regret. The strings, his fingers, the warm bourbon tone kissing the microphone—they’re all lulling me into his presence, his being.
My phone vibrates against my thigh, startling me away from this apparent Bo-asis. I see that it’s Monica, so I click “ignore” since she’s probably just calling to see if I showed, and continue staring at Bo. I’m not even hearing what he’s singing, my brain seems to not want to let me see and hear him sing at the same time. It’s one hell of a defense mechanism. When my phone vibrates two more times, I decide to take the call outside.
“Mon, what’s going on? Is everything OK?” The warm breeze resuscitates my logic.
“What the hell took you so long to answer?”
“I’m at Finnegan’s with Regan and actually Ra—” I’m cut off by a squeal.
“Whatever, Josh proposed!” Her voice is pure bliss.
“What? Oh my God, Monica, that’s amazing! Tell me you said yes!” The parking lot drowns under the happy tears rising past my irises.
“Of course I said yes!”
We meet each other sniff-for-sniff in tears of happiness and congratulations.
“Details, please!” I squeak through tears.
“Well, Josh helped my dad grill our food last night and asked his permission then.”
“Asked his permission? Oh my God, how cute!”
“Right? Then the four of us went out on the boat this morning. Right in the middle of the ocean,” her voice clips for a second, “Josh got down on one knee ...”
This is so Josh and Monica I could be sick, in the happiest way possible.
“OK,” I prompt, “what’d he say? How’d he ask?”
“He said that the love he felt for me couldn’t be measured, not even by all the water in the sea beneath us,” she sniffs back more tears, “and he said he wanted to spend forever with me. Rocky seas and all.”
“Oh, Monica.” I’m openly sobbing in front of Finnegan’s, but my smile prevents people from asking me if I’m OK. I’m perfect.
Ten minutes later, after talking dates and girly details, I nearly forget where I am when I hear applause coming from inside.
“Shit, Mon, Bo’s set is done, and I’ve left Regan in there with Rae this whole time. I’m so freaking happy for you and can’t wait to see you two. Will you be home tomorrow?” I quickly wipe under my eyes as people start filing out of the bar.
“Yes, we’ll be home tomorrow. How was the set?”
That’s not what she wants to know.
“Everything’s fine, enjoy the rest of your weekend. I love you. Tell Josh I love him, too. Bye.”
I lean my head back against the wall and take in what’s just happened.
She said yes. They’re getting married. Forever.
When the exodus slows and I realize my party is still inside, I turn and head back through the door where, of course, I find Regan and Bo chatting like old friends at our table. My fake smile is getting a workout these days, and I beg its appearance once more as I sit in the chair across from Bo.
“Sorry about that, Monica called.”
“What happened? Your eyes are all red. Why were you crying?” Rae leans forward and puts her hand on my arm. Bo and Regan stop their quiet conversation and stare at me.
“Nothing.” I smile. “Josh proposed to Monica today. They’re getting married.” I smile as salty tears roll off my lips and into my beer while I try to swallow.
“That’s great, good for them,” Bo chimes in, a genuine smile on his lips. His eyes, however, are steeped in sadness.
Yeah, maybe that could have been us.
Rachel clearing her throat is the only indication I have that my eyes have been locked with Bo’s in a silent waltz of melancholy.
“It is great.” I try to recover from my social fumble. “They’re perfect for each other.”
“Ember, Regan says you guys are going to try some Irish rock stuff? I agree with him that you can totally pull it off.” Bo is talking to me like his friend. Friends. I look at Rae who shrugs and smiles.
“Uh, yeah, thanks. We haven’t really tried anything yet, but it’ll be fun to learn something new.”
This will go down in history as the most awkward conversation I’ve ever had. Ever.
“Hopefully you’ll play up there, too,” Bo says. His eyes carry hopefulness, familiarity, and pleads of a connection he clearly hopes still exists. He’s my musical soul mate. He knows it, I know i
t, and he’s trying to let Regan know it.
“What do you play?” Regan sounds surprised.
I shake my knee under the table nervously. Regan knows Bo’s my ex-boyfriend, and that it’s recent. I can’t explain that everything I love about playing the guitar is wrapped up in Bo Cavanaugh. I can’t explain why I don’t want to play anymore, even though I thought I’d be able to—singing’s hard enough knowing he’s not the one backing me up.
“Nothing. I don’t play anything.” Sweat is popping up along my hairline and the dizziness has returned. I get up and rush to the bathroom.
And I throw up.
No way can I be friends with Bo. What I felt when he was singing was far from friendship. It’s not his fault, I think between heaves on the cold floor. He seems to really be trying to maintain a pleasant atmosphere, since apparently, we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other. I lean back against the stall door, contemplating making Lost Dog my new hang out, when the bathroom door opens.
“Ember?” Rachel speaks quietly as she knocks on my stall.
This is mortifying.
I wipe tears and saliva from my face as I stand to open the door.
“Sorry.” I sneak past her and head for the sink in an attempt to clean up my streaked and splotchy face. “I just had a lot of emotions churn through me in the last half hour. They asked to be deposited there.” I chuckle as I point to the toilet.
Rae doesn’t smile. Instead, she comes up behind me and wraps an arm around my waist. “It’s hard for him, too, you know. He was a mess the whole ride down. I’m surprised he didn’t pull over to throw up himself.” She takes a deep breath and meets my gaze through the mirror before she continues, “This is the only time I’m going to say this because I care about you too much as a friend to push it, but, he loves you, Ember. It’s not going to stop anytime soon, no matter what I say to him, or how you act. I think you love him, too, though I’d never tell him that. He’s willing to be your friend if that’s what it takes to stay in your life. Let him be your friend.”
“I really do love you, you know that, Rae? I can try, for you and for now, to be his friend—a thoroughly embarrassed friend at the moment, but a friend. If it gets too weird, I’ll need a new plan.” I swish some water around my mouth, ignoring her assumption that I love her brother, and spit my anxiety into the sink.
We walk casually back to the table where I place my hand on Regan’s.
“Sorry, Regan. What I meant to say is I don’t really play anything. I know one song on the guitar and a few chords. Josh is going to help me learn.” Out of the corner of my eye I see Bo’s eyebrows twitch when I mention Josh.
You might be my friend, dude, but I can’t let you teach me how to play the guitar. I still have boundaries.
“That’s great. Hey, you guys should come down next week to see us play. I know it’s a haul, but we’ve got something good brewing.” Regan is all smiles as he brags us up.
For the rest of the evening, I’m able to smile and nod in the right places, maintaining appropriate eye contact, even with Bo. I don’t know why it’s so hard for me to wrap my mind and soul around being his friend. It seems truly absurd, on one hand. But, on the other, maybe being friends is what we should have been all along, before “I love you” and “a thousand lifetimes” and everything else pushed us into a box that we couldn’t fit in. Something doesn’t sit right with my insides about being his friend, even though it’s the smart choice. I want Rachel in my life, period, and they’re a packaged deal. I need to learn to play nice. And fair.
We all head out to the parking lot to say our goodbyes. I tell Rae I’ll see her on Wednesday, smile and wave at Bo, and head to my car as Regan gives Rae his phone number.
“November?” I knew he was following me as soon as I walked away from Rae’s car.
“Yeah?” I unlock my door, open it, and step behind it, begging the steel to barricade my hormones and emotions.
Bo tucks his hands into his pockets, leaning against the car behind him. “I’m sorry if I made things awkward tonight. This is your town, your bar...I don’t want you to feel out of place because of me.”
“It wasn’t you. I didn’t mean for you to feel that way. I just didn’t realize how strange it would seem to try to slide back into a regular routine.” I laugh. “Though, I guess we weren’t really “routine” from the get go, were we?”
He laughs and crosses his arms in front of him. “No, we weren’t. So, we’re good?”
I nod. “We’re good. I’ll see you Wednesday. Oh, by the way, Regan seems like a good guy, so don’t freak that he gave Rae his number, OK?”
“I’ll try to keep that in mind. Night, Em.” He walks casually back to his car, gets in, and drives away.
Em. Well, that’s what your friends call you...
My car seems to drive itself home, and within a few minutes, I’m in my own bed for the first time in several days. I toss and turn over the last forty-eight hours. Last night with Adrian was incredible on a number of levels. I find myself excited for the next time I can see him, while my phone dings twice with text messages.
Adrian: Hope tonight went well. Call me in the AM. xo
Rae: I had a great time tonight. Thank you for trying. Regan’s hot, so thanks for that. Xo
What a fucking mess...
Chapter Thirteen
The splitting headache that accompanies sunrise has nothing to do with liquor. Last night was a disaster. Rae knows I’m having a hard time handling being Bo’s friend. I don’t think she’ll say anything to him, but it’s still disconcerting. The only bright light from last night came in the form of the phone call from Monica, telling me that she and Josh got engaged. I smile at the thought of their life together, and the headache slips slowly away. My phone rings, and my smile widens as Adrian’s name graces the screen.
“Hey you, it’s early.” I yawn.
“Morning, Gorgeous. It felt weird not waking up next to you this morning. How’d last night go?”
I sigh loudly. “God, it was a mess. Rae was there, andwe had a nice time. But, Bo wants to be friends.”
“Yeah, you told me that before. What’s the problem?”
“Ha! Adrian, come on. You and I didn’t speak for five years and you’re asking me what the problem is with being friends with Bo? He was perfectly nice and polite, but it felt so wrong. And, it feels even more wrong talking about it withyou. What has my love life become?” I bury my face into my pillow and suppress a giggle.
“Ah ha! I’m in your love life now, am I?” Adrian teases.
“Yeah,” I sigh again, “you absolutely are. Anyway, guess what? Monica and Josh got engaged last night.”
“Awesome, good for them.”
“I know. I can’t wait to help her plan. I’m going to throw them an engagement party at the end of the summer—a clam bake, I think.”
“Sounds great.” Adrian’s tone turns seductive, “When can I see your beautiful face again?”
“I can’t really get away much since my time is basically spent between here and Concord. I can come to your place on Friday again; only, I’ll have to address this situation with Monica. Hopefully, my schedule opens up more when the new DROP center opens by the end of the summer. Shit, Monica’s calling. I’ll call you later, K?”
“I can’t wait until Friday. I’ll look at my schedule and call you later about when I can come to town—Monday or Tuesday. Bye.”
Grinning with satisfaction, I click over to Monica.
“Hey lady, it’s early. Shouldn’t you be busy making sweet engaged love or something?” I giggle.
“We’ve got that covered, don’t you worry. I was calling to hear about last night, seeing Bo play. You sounded stressed right out when I called last night.” Monica’s tone is full of concern. She can’t even bask in the wild love of her engagement without checking up on me.
“I threw up.”
“You threw up?”
“Yes, I threw up. When I got off the phone wit
h you, I was sitting with Bo, Rae, and Regan. Bo was playing friends perfectly. I got all sweaty, ran in the bathroom, and threw up.” I shake my head at the recollection.
“Shit, that sucks. I’m really sorry.”
“Oh, no, that’s not the best part.”
“I figured as much with you.” I can almost hear Monica rolling her eyes.
“When I was done throwing up, Rae came in, hugged me, and told me to try to be Bo’s friend. She said he fucking loves me, that she thinks I love him, and said Bo will take being my friend if that means I’m still in his life.”
Crickets.
“Monica?”
“I ...”
“Whatever, it’s fine. I’ll figure it out. Look, I really need to talk to you about something, but I want to do it in person. So hurry your happy ass over here when you get home, OK?”
“Great. I’ll be over this afternoon. Love you.”
“Love you too, Mon.”
It’s time to come clean with her about Adrian. No one else needs to know anything but, frankly, I’m going to be in deep enough water as it is for withholding our “first kiss” from her, let alone Saturday night. I can’t make up excuses as to why I need to travel alone to Concord. I like my new route home too much. I stare at the phone in my hand, clenching my jaw at what I’m about to do. When I push send, it’s already a bad idea, and already too late. It needs to be done, however. He can’t be the one tossing balls in my court all the time.
“Hello?” His voice sounds thoroughly confused.
“Hey Bo, it’s November.”
“Hi.” The smile in his voice pricks tiny holes in my heart. Tiny, but holes, nonetheless.
“I just wanted to apologize for getting weird last night. Rae talked some sense into me. You’re lucky to have her.”
“Don’t worry about it—it’ll take some time for us to get used to being friends.” The smile sounds like it’s disappeared, and his use of the word “friends” sounds as smooth coming from his lips as every other word in that sentence. It sounds like he’s already gotten used to it.
Reckless Abandon (November Blue, #2) Page 9