I nodded. “She’d love what you are doing. You know that.”
“I do.”
“We should say something.”
“Yes.” He looked at me and straightened his shoulders as if he were going to make a big long speech. I smiled.
“Nora Becket, my mom, was the best mother anyone could ever have. She was always there for me, and she loved life and fought so hard up until the very end. I’ll miss you, Mom, so very much.” His last sentence came out on a raspy sob. “Rest in peace,” he finished.
“Goodbye, Nora. I’ll always love you. Thank you for being the best second mom anyone could ever have,” I said. “And thanks for never telling my mom about us ditching school in tenth grade.” Ash chuckled and swiped at his eyes. It had been during a one-day teacher strike, and substitutes had had to take over all of our classes. Ash had said screw it, they’d never miss us, so he and I had taken off to the beach right after first period. Everything would have been fine, even with the sunburned faces we’d gotten, except for the sand that Ash had forgotten to rinse out of his short’s pockets. Sunburns were easy to explain since our lunches were always taken outside. We’d told our moms that we’d both fallen asleep during our lunch hours. A May sunny day in San Francisco was rare, so they’d bought it, knowing how much we all loved soaking up the sun on those days. Until Nora did laundry and found the sand in Asher’s pocket. She’d questioned him about it, and he’d fessed up. She’d lectured me too, giving us both the “why we shouldn’t ditch school again, and what the consequences would be if we did” talk, but she never ratted me out to my mom. I did eventually tell my mom about it, but not until after graduation.
I placed my hands around the urn below his, and together, we tilted the porcelain jar and watched the ashes spill out as they floated their way down to the water. The wind blew several back up and they hit us in the face. We both spit the ashes away from our lips and wiped our mouths with the backs of our hands.
Ash smiled. “She’s still a fighter.”
“That’s for sure.”
“Thanks for following me, Mel. It was easier having you here.”
“You’re welcome.” It didn’t surprise me that he needed me, but it did surprise me that he’d admitted it.
He placed the empty urn in his backpack and slung the guitar case over his other shoulder. I took my case and did the same, then I took his hand as we walked toward the end of the bridge.
“I’ll let you buy me that Irish Coffee you promised me now. I think my fingers are about to fall off they’re so cold,” I said.
“If I remember correctly, and I think I do, it was you who offered to buy me the coffee.”
I shrugged. “Yeah, but you have more money than I do.”
The coffee house was jam-packed with wall-to-wall people. It was Friday night, and the city was already booming with weekend tourists. We made our way to the counter after standing in line for about ten minutes, and Ash ordered two Irish Coffees, one heavy on the whipped cream; that was his. The more whipped cream, the better as far as he was concerned.
“Mmmm…” I hummed as the smooth, sweet cream mixed with the coffee and whiskey goodness warmed my throat. Ash laughed, and I frowned when I looked up at him as his finger swiped across the tip of my nose. He held up his whipped-cream-covered fingertip before sticking it in his mouth, sucking it dry. My stomach jittered then knotted. Wow. He was so sexy. I’d always thought so, but now, in this light, his green eyes twinkled and his tanned face made him look just like one of the cover model guys I drooled over in my escape world of reading romance novels. My heart thumped and I had to look away, trying to focus on something less…Asher.
I needed to concentrate on something real. Not that Ash wasn’t real. But, I mean, a real, possible relationship. The only problem was, most guys I knew were friends with Ash and always treated me as if I were one of the guys, just like Ash did.
I once overheard Asher tell Brent that he’d pummel the life out of any guy who ever tried to get into my pants. Not that getting into my pants was ever going to happen with any of those runts, but he did manage to scare the crap out of all of them whenever the subject of me came up. It used to make me feel good and special that he cared about me and wanted to protect me, but now that we were both into our twenties, I just wished he’d let up a bit. How would I ever find a boyfriend with Asher’s daunting threats forever fresh on every male’s mind this side of the bay bridge? You’d almost think that Ash wanted me for himself, but I knew that would never happen. His feelings for me were strong, as strong as mine for him, but his were more of a sister/brother pull that kept us close, not the physical attraction mine were.
“Hi, Ash,” Lisa Stone sidled up against Ash’s arm. “So sorry about your mom. Let me know if I can do anything for you, okay?”
“Thanks,” Ash responded and eyed me over the edge of his cup as he took a sip.
“Hi, Mel. Heard you two playing in the courtyard earlier. You are so good,” she said, placing her hand upon Ash’s shoulder. “When are you performing again at the Tank?”
“Tomorrow night,” Ash supplied.
“I’ll be there. See you then.” She turned and headed toward a table in the back where a small group of men and women were gathered.
I turned in the other direction, not wanting to watch Ash’s gaze follow Lisa’s rear end.
“What?” he said when he finally glanced back at me.
“Nothing,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“Don’t give me that, ‘nothing,’ Mel. She’s nice.”
“Sure. Whatever you say.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing!”
“I know you better than you know yourself, Melody Grace Stevens, and when you say nothing and roll your eyes, there is definitely something.”
“Okay. It just seems like she’s throwing herself and her very large breasts at you all the time. It’s rather embarrassing how she comes across so needy.”
“Needy? I thought it was sexy.”
“You would. Look, I don’t care. It’s none of my business who with or where you get your jollies off.” If that’s the type of woman Ash was attracted to, no wonder he and I had never become anything more than friends.
I turned to see Alex walk through the door. Ash stiffened and sucked up the rest of his coffee. “Are you about finished?”
“No, what’s your hurry?” I asked, only halfway finished with my coffee.
I glanced back toward Alex. He wore a light grey denim shirt, the sleeves rolled up just below his elbows, showing off some cool tattoos on his forearms. The veins protruding as he reached up and swiped his hair off his forehead. He looked good. Really good. Almost as good as Ash. I quickly averted my eyes, not wanting him to know I’d been ogling him as he headed over toward us.
Ash knew Alex from way back in high school, but the few times I’d seen them both in the same room together, Ash always seemed a bit put off or uneasy.
“Hey, Melody. I’ve been looking for you,” Alex said, putting his arm around my shoulder when he reached us. Ash looked on, frowning.
“I’m right here,” I said with a slight giggle.
“I have two tickets to see Maroon Five at the Shoreline next Friday night. Wanna go?”
“Okay. Sure,” I said, sucking in my bottom lip, dying inside with excitement at the prospect of a real date with a real guy. I mean someone other than Asher Beaumont. Ash and I went everywhere together, so they never seemed like dates. And they weren’t, of course.
CHAPTER THREE
Asher
I knew I had no say in whom Mel went out with, but Alex Clayton? Of all the creeps that walked this earth, why did Alex Clayton suddenly have eyes for Melody? The guy had a different woman on his arm every time I saw him come into the club. Mel was innocent and fragile. He’d only end up hurting her.
I stood watching them. Mel laughing at everything he said, which was garbage as far as I was concerned. After about five min
utes of that crap, I’d had enough. I couldn’t stand there and watch his ugly display of flirtation any longer.
“Mel, I gotta go. Are you coming?”
She frowned at me and gave Alex an apologetic glance. “Sorry, I need to go.”
“Okay. I’ll call you and let you know what time.”
“Sounds good,” she said, placing her unfinished coffee down on the corner of the table we’d been standing near and making an apathetic approach toward me and the door.
I let the door close after Mel had scooted through under my arm that had been holding it open. She hurried up the walkway toward the apartment that she shared with her roommate, Erica, not waiting for me or stopping when I called out to her.
“Mel. Wait! C’mon, Melody. What’s your problem?”
She stopped and turned to face me. “You, you’re the problem, Asher.”
“What are you talking about? What did I do?”
She poked her finger into my chest. “You know perfectly well what you did.” When she finished poking me, she took off again toward home.
“No, I don’t. What did I do?”
She stopped abruptly and her guitar case strap fell off her shoulder and dangled on her upper arm. I took her other arm in my hand to keep her from taking off again. “For a guy who had the sweetest, kindest, most caring and intelligent mother in the whole entire world—may she rest in peace—you suddenly have the I.Q. of an orangutan.”
That was harsh. Especially since we’d just spread my mom’s ashes out over the bay.
“You’re mad for some reason, and I don’t know why.”
I let go of her arm, and she sighed. “Asher, do you realize that tonight was the very first time I’ve ever been asked to go to a concert—or anywhere—with a guy?”
“No, it’s not. You and I go places all the time and we’ve been to plenty of concerts.”
She shook her head. “Not the same.”
As if a bolt of lightning sizzled down the center of my body, I suddenly realized she’d never been on an actual date with anyone before. Though that realization was startling, I didn’t see what that had to do with her being upset with me. And why did the first date she’d been asked to go on have to be with Alex Clayton? He was nothing more than a suit, a wannabe attorney, working in a Market Street law firm as an associate.
There were plenty of other guys she could go out with, guys we both knew that would treat her far better than Alex fucking Clayton. They knew I’d kick the shit out of them if they didn’t.
“I’m sorry. But, what did I do that was so wrong?”
“Forget it, Ash. Let’s just go home. I’m tired, and if you want my help tomorrow going through your mom’s stuff, I need to get some sleep.” She turned and began to walk up the hill.
“Mel, why Alex Clayton?”
She stopped. “Why not Alex?”
I ran my hand through my hair. She was making this very difficult and frustrating. “You know, he’s been coming to the club for the past six or seven months now.”
“Believe me, I’ve noticed,” she said with a twinkle in her eye that I didn’t like being there while she talked about Alex.
“And have you noticed that every time he comes in it’s with a different woman?”
She looked at the ground then back up at me. “Sure. He works with most of them.”
That was a stretch of the word “works.” I didn’t want to argue with her anymore, but she had to know. “Mel, he brings them in, hanging on his arm.” She had to see where I was going with this.
“So?”
“Do I really need to spell it out for you?”
“I guess so, Asher because Alex has been nothing but kind and nice to me every time I’ve seen him.”
“He’s fucking them. A different one every time he comes in. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
She gave me a pensive look and shook her head. “I don’t believe you. You’re just saying all this because I gave you a hard time about Lisa and her boobs. And besides, I don’t need you to worry about me. I don’t tell you who you can or can’t go out with.”
“That’s because I’m a guy.”
“Really? That’s your reasoning? You think you have the right to dictate my social life because you’re a guy? Just leave me the fuck alone.” She tugged the strap of her guitar case back up onto her shoulder and stormed off. This time, I let her go. I watched her for a few seconds, the cumbersome case bumping against her rear end as she stomped up the hill. I was tired. Too damn tired to fight, and I didn’t want to fight, not with Mel. I did think about going back inside the bar and decorating Alex’s face, though, but my exhaustion took hold. It had been a hellish day with the memorial and all. I looked forward to my pillow and closing my eyes.
I repositioned the strap of my own case on my shoulder and walked quickly up the hill, close behind Mel. She’d made me mad, but I didn’t want her walking through the neighborhood alone.
When she reached the apartment building we lived in, I’d practically caught up with her. I was close enough to catch the door before it slammed shut behind her. Good thing, since I’d forgotten my key this morning.
Mel and Erica lived across the hall from me. Mel had moved in with Erica shortly after I started my lease. We’d met Erica when Mel was helping me move in. They’d hit it off right away, and lucky for Mel, Erica had recently lost her roommate and was looking for a new one.
I gave Mel some space between us and let her walk up the steps ahead of me. I heard her apartment door squeak open and then close as I reached the top step of the stairs. The brownstone consisted of four apartments, two upstairs and two on the ground floor. I got to my place and turned the handle. I never locked my apartment door. I figured with the main one downstairs always locked, I didn’t really need to. I knew that Mel and Erica always locked theirs, though. The two renters downstairs were both guys a little older than us. They were friendly but kept mostly to themselves. Living in this building was more like living in a huge house, except everyone’s room had a sitting room and a kitchen. So it just seemed silly to me to lock the inside door.
I placed my guitar across the sofa and headed to the kitchen for a glass of water. As I stood drinking and watching all the twinkling lights from my kitchen window that overlooked the city, I wanted to throw the glass into the sink and let it shatter into a million pieces. I hated fighting with Melody. She was right, though, I didn’t have any right to tell her who she could go out with. But damn it, I just didn’t like that guy. I’d spent too may nights up on stage, watching him play Don Juan with a different woman every time he was in the club. It turned my stomach to think of Mel being alone with him. She could have picked anyone else, and I’d have been fine with it. I just couldn’t stand by and let her go out with Alex. But, at the same time, I didn’t like this feeling I had about her and the way we were arguing about him either. I put the empty glass in the sink and headed to bed. I was beat. It had been a shitty day. I’d said goodbye to my mom forever, and then had a fight with my best friend over some creep.
Fuck.
It hit me again, then. I was alone in the world now. Spreading my mom’s ashes over the bay this evening solidified that reality for me. I didn’t want to lose Mel, too. My mom was gone. My mind drifted back to my dad. My dad, well, he’d never really been around had he? But he was gone from this world, too. There were two other people I didn’t really like to think about that were still around. I’d always hated them. From the time I’d found out about them. Hated knowing they existed. I had two brothers, well, half-brothers. Fuck. My mom never talked about them, and it had been the last thing I wanted to bring up as she lay on her deathbed. And now that she was gone, I didn’t have anyone left to ask about them.
I shrugged out of my clothes and sank beneath the covers on my bed. It was still fairly early, but emotional exhaustion took hold and I closed my eyes, thinking about clever ways to apologize to Mel without giving up my quest to get her to see my side about what she’d be
getting herself into with Alex.
I moaned at the jiggling pressure on my shoulder.
“Wake up. Why are you in bed anyway?” Mel’s urgent voice snapped into my ears, interrupting a very good dream.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“It’s only nine o’clock. Why are you in bed already?”
I rubbed my eyes and looked at her all-too-perky face. “I was tired.”
“Oh. Right. Sorry, today was pretty rough.” She sat, making herself comfortable on the edge of my bed.
“Yeah, it was.” I sat up a little, letting the covers fall to my waist, exposing my naked chest.
Mel stood up, walked to my window and stared out. “You sleep naked?” she asked.
“No, I have boxers on. Why?”
She shook her head and continued to stare out the window.
“You’ve seen me in swim trunks. It’s basically the same thing.”
“I haven’t actually seen you in swim trunks for two summers. I spent most of last summer at my dad’s, remember? You’ve changed since then.”
I looked down at my torso. I guess my chest was a bit larger than it had been. I knew my arms were. Trips to the gym were now a daily routine for me. Or at least, I tried. Sometimes life…and death took precedence over bodybuilding.
“What are you doing here, Mel?” I pushed the covers off and got out of bed. She turned to face me and her eyes traveled down to my bare thighs and lingered there for a few seconds before they came back up to my face. “I thought you were mad at me.”
“I was. Am. I don’t want my soc—”
“Wait,” I interrupted. “Listen, I know I don’t have any right to tell you who you can date. It’s just that, Mel, this guy, you need to understand…he’s…”
“Nice to me,” she supplied before I had a chance to finished. Not what I had intended to say.
“I get that. I’m sure he’s very nice.”
“Then what’s your problem?”
“I meant…I’m sure he’s very nice to all the women he screws. He’s got a reputation for sleeping around with every woman he brings to the club. And I worry that might be all he wants from you, too.” In fact, I was positive that was all he wanted.
Beautifully Undone (The Beaumont Brothers #3) Page 2