By the time I finish, the last remaining customers have exited the bar and Thad is the only one still here. I know, without a doubt, that he’s going to wait for me so I don't bother stalling and immediately begin packing up my things. I decide to leave my guitar here because I don’t feel like lugging it home tonight.
Thad finishes his beer and begins helping Becca stack bar stools. I can't help but smile at him as he sweeps through the bar, stacking chairs and clearing tables like he works here and it's another night.
Thirty minutes later, I find myself exiting the bar with Thad. While I know his intentions are probably good, something about allowing him to walk me home seems like an invitation that I don't want to extend.
Don't get me wrong, I’m definitely attracted to Thad. More than I want to admit. But even still, he's not who I want. The last thing I want to do is lead him on, not that that's his intention, but given his very flirty nature, not to mention the impromptu kiss the first night we met, I would say that I am not too far off base where he's concerned.
“I gotta say, I'm impressed.” He praises me as we slowly make our way down the sidewalk. “You really are as talented as Jake said.”
“Thank you.” I feel my cheeks heat from the compliment.
I don't know why, but for whatever reason I immediately feel embarrassed when someone comments on my playing. It's ridiculous and obviously I know I am decent, otherwise it wouldn't be how I am currently making a living.
“You never have to thank me for telling you the truth. For example, have I told you how unbelievably beautiful you are?” he asks, his hand grazing the back of mine.
“Aren't you full of compliments tonight?” I force a laugh, trying to play the moment off as a joke. He smiles fondly at me before he turns his attention forward again.
About a half a block away from my building he finally closes the gap between our hands and entwines his fingers with mine. Not really sure what else to do, I let him. It's not like holding hands means I’m pledging some kind of commitment to him. I have held Carver's hand on several occasions and he is nothing more than one of my very best friends.
We walk the remainder of the way in silence. Even though I try to justify the reason I let him hold my hand, there is an uneasiness that settles over me and stays there until we reach my front steps and I casually pull my hand away.
“Thank you for walking me home.” I turn toward the steps with every intention of making a quick getaway.
Before I can even get to the first step, his hand shoots out and catches me by the arm, halting my movements.
“Grace.” His voice is hesitant, like he’s not sure what to say. “I was wondering if you would like to hang out sometime.”
“Oh. I'm not sure. It's just, well things are kind of in a weird place for me right now...” I break off.
“Relax, Grace Morgan. I'm not asking you to be my wife.” His sweet lopsided smile falls into place.
“I wasn't trying to imply... I just meant...”
But he cuts me off again. “There's someone else.” It’s a statement, not a question.
“There is,” I confirm. “But we aren't together and it's extremely complicated.” I feel the need to be apologetic.
“I can't say I'm not disappointed. But I get it.” He rocks back on his heels.
“I should probably get inside.” I gesture toward the door.
“Yeah, it's late. Maybe we could still grab a cup of coffee or something sometime.”
“But,” I start to interject.
“I can still be your friend, can’t I? You aren't interested in more right now, I can respect that. So coffee?”
I can't contain the laugh that escapes my throat.
“Yes, coffee sounds great. You know where to find me.” I turn toward the steps.
“Goodnight, Grace Morgan,” Thad calls from behind me. I have no idea why he always says my full name, but it’s kind of endearing.
“Goodnight.” My words get a little lost in the air as I reach the door to my building.
I turn, watching Thad walk away and disappear around the corner before finally pushing my way inside. I would be lying if I said that I felt nothing for Thad. The truth is, if it weren’t for Zayne and my obvious issues with being in a relationship, I very well could see myself dating him.
He's extremely talented, funny, sweet, and very attractive. Not to mention he has the sexiest accent I have ever heard.
But at the end of the day, it all boils down to one thing.
He's not Zayne.
Chapter Twelve
“SO HOW WAS LAST NIGHT?” Becca asks as she makes her way around the bar stacking chairs while I wipe down tables.
“He walked me home. It wasn't a big deal.”
“Uh huh.” She laughs, making her way behind the bar to grab the broom.
“Don't 'uh huh' me. You know my current situation. It doesn't matter how attractive or charming he is.”
“He's not who you want,” she finishes my thought for me, giving me a sour look.
“Believe me, if I could change it, I would. It's not like I can flip a switch and magically forget about Zayne. I wish I could.” I clear off the last table before making my way behind the bar to throw away a couple of empty beer bottles.
“I know. It just sucks. Here you have this amazingly hot musician who’s pining after you, yet you're completely in love with a ridiculously hot asshole that clearly can't decide what the fuck he wants and has no problem dragging you through the mud in the process.” She stops a couple of feet in front of me, her hands planted firmly on her hips.
“It's not like he's purposely hurting me. I walked away from him, remember?”
“Yeah after he fucked some woman in China.” Her voice goes up an octave. While Becca would never say it, I know deep down she has a serious issue with Zayne.
“We've already been through this, Bec. We weren't together. He had every right to sleep with her,” I say, tossing my towel on the counter.
“Keep telling yourself that, Grace. Either way, it doesn't change the fact that he’s the one who screwed this up, not you. I think you pushed him away because deep down you know that he is only going to break you. That the whole China thing is only one of many indiscretions that would likely happen in the future if you were to keep the relationship going.”
“I don't think so. Zayne could never hurt me like that,” I say, not sure if I’m trying to convince her or myself.
Besides, hasn't that been my reservation all along? That I would lose him one way or another? That he would end up hurting me beyond repair, even if that were never his intention?
“Are you kidding me? He's already hurt you like that. Look at yourself, Grace. You mope around, sing the saddest songs on the planet, and don't think I haven't noticed the way you’ve watched the door for the last two nights, hoping that he shows. It shouldn't be like that and you know it.”
While I know that Becca has a point, I also know that the point is mute. Zayne made his choice and I've made mine. We are where we are because we've chosen to be.
“I'm not getting into this right now. We aren't together, we aren't going to be together, so there's no point in discussing it further.” I turn and walk toward the stage.
“I'm sorry, Grace. I didn't mean to overstep.”
I turn to face her once I reach the stage, shoving my guitar into its case. “You didn't. You're being my friend.” I smile. “Besides, I have a question for you. My brother bought me Raining Strange tickets for Friday night, you interested in going with?” I ask, watching her face light up and then fall into a frown.
“Shit. Are you kidding me? Of all the nights, it has to be Friday.” She groans, leaning against the bar.
“I take it Friday isn't a good day for you?” I set my guitar to the side of the stage and make my way back toward the bar.
“I have to pick my baby sister up from the airport Friday morning. She's only here for the weekend. There's no way that I can bail on her t
he first night she's here to go to a concert,” she whines, clearly disappointed.
“Well, that sucks.”
I was kind of counting on her being able to go, considering she's the only person I know who likes the band as much as I do, not to mention Emma has to work that night so she can't go.
“Tell me about it.” She crosses the bar and flips the main light switch, killing every light in the bar except for a security light by the main entrance.
“Well let me know if anything changes. Guess I'll have to see if Carv will go with me, though I can't see him being too overly excited about it. Neither him nor Em understand my choice in music.” I laugh when a look of disgust crosses Becca's face.
“Losers.” She holds the door open for me.
“My thoughts exactly.” I laugh, a small chill running through me as I step out into the night air.
“See you tomorrow, Grace.” She pulls the door closed as I begin making my way down the sidewalk toward my apartment building.
A light breeze whips through my hair and I close my eyes, inhaling deeply before opening them again. The weather is absolutely perfect at this time of night, especially considering that during the day the temperatures are bordering around ninety degrees. While Colorado sees similar weather, it's so much more humid on the east coast.
I make it home in a matter of minutes and can't be more relieved when my body finally collapses onto the couch, too tired to even make it to my bed.
Normally the late nights don't bother me, but I have had so much trouble sleeping here recently, that by the time I make it home I feel like a zombie and can't help but wonder how I am still functioning.
“GRACIE. GRACE.” CARVER'S voice pulls me from my restless sleep. I peel one eye open to peer up at him and am greeted by a wide smile. “Mornin.” He chuckles, watching me try to pull myself into a sitting position.
“Morning,” I croak out, trying to stretch out my tight back muscles from sleeping on the couch.
“Why are you out here?” he asks, plopping down next to me before pulling my feet into his lap.
Slouching back down into the couch cushions, I prop myself up with one of the sofa pillows and try to make myself semi-comfortable, not yet feeling the energy to get up and go to my room.
“I laid down thinking I would watch a little television before bed. Guess I fell asleep before I even turned the T.V. on.” I yawn.
“You're going to have the worst backache if you spend any more time on this lumpy old thing. Trust me, I fell asleep out here one night and felt like I couldn't stand up straight for two days.” He chuckles.
“Yeah, I think I'll go to my room.” I grab the hands he extends to me, pulling myself into a sitting position before throwing my legs over the side of the couch. “Before I forget, Alec got me tickets to see Raining Strange at the Mercury Lounge on Friday. I wanted to see if you would want to go with me.”
Based on the way his face drops, I already know the answer.
“Shit Gracie, I wish I could but I have a date Friday night.”
“A date, huh? Who's the special lady?” I nudge him playfully with my shoulder.
“Just some girl from the office.” He bumps his shoulder back into mine. “I could always reschedule.”
“Don't be ridiculous. I'm sure I can find someone else to go. You go on your hot date then come home and tell me all about this mystery woman from the office.” I give him a wink before peeling myself off the couch. Leaning down, I place a quick kiss to his forehead. “Have a good day at work.” I make my way around the couch, heading toward my bedroom.
“Love you, Gracie,” Carver calls behind me.
“Love you,” I say back loud enough that I know he can hear me before gently pulling the door closed.
I strip down to my underwear and throw on an old t-shirt before pulling back my covers and crawling into bed. My mattress feels like a cloud compared to the couch, and I’m very thankful that Carver woke me. I have no doubt that I would have felt like death had I slept there much longer.
As much as I would love to go back to sleep, considering it's only seven in the morning, I’m suddenly a little panicked that I'm not going to be able to find anyone to go to the show with me.
I briefly consider inviting Thad, but quickly decide against it. I'm sure he has a gig that night, considering his band always plays on the weekends.
Deciding to see if Alec can go, I climb back out of bed and dig my cell out of the pocket of the jeans that I discarded on the floor. I type a quick text and then lock the phone, collapsing back into my bed.
Closing my eyes, I do my best to relax but just as I feel myself starting to doze, my phone signals a new text message. I blindly feel around the bed for my phone and don't open my eyes until I am holding it right in front of my face.
Sounds like fun.
Breathing a sigh of relief, I type out a quick response.
Thank you! I was starting to think I was going to have to go alone :(
His reply is almost immediate.
Not a chance. I'll meet you at the venue at seven.
I can't help but smile. Not only did he buy me the tickets, but he's also agreeing to go with me. While he may not hate my choice of music quite as much as Emma, I know he doesn't exactly love it either.
You're the best!
I hit send and lock my phone, tossing it on my nightstand before snuggling deeper into the covers. While I love my brother dearly, he's certainly not my first choice to take to a rock concert. Now if Ian were here, that would be a different story.
Ian is the type to dance around like a fool, join the mosh pit, and would probably manage to crowd surf his way to the stage. Alec on the other hand, will most likely stand off to the side and watch me like a hawk all night to make sure no one messes with me. Not exactly what I would call a super fun time.
Oddly enough, I can't help but feel like Zayne would be the very same way. I can't see him letting loose and having fun. He seems to always have a guard up and to this day, I have yet to see it falter. Well, besides the few little peeks I got during our few days together at his apartment. Oh, and let’s not forget about the time he snuck into the nightclub so he could dance with me. I guess some would say that was him letting loose.
I try to shake off the thoughts of Zayne and focus on my excitement about my upcoming outing with Alec. Anything is better than going alone, so I accept my fate and decide to be grateful that in less than four days, I will be seeing one of my favorite bands live for the very first time.
I CAN'T BELIEVE I'M actually here. The Mercury Lounge in New York City. Visiting this venue has been a dream of mine for a very long time, and I can't grasp that it's finally a reality. I remember being fifteen years old and laying around my room reading articles about my favorite bands and how a good deal of them named this very location as their favorite place to play.
Kyle used to tease me relentlessly about my obsession with music magazines. I had this habit of cataloging all of my must see bands in alphabetical order, which he would purposely mix up just to get a rise out of me. As much as it annoyed me back then, it's now one of my fondest memories of my time with him.
Over the years, my list of places to visit has grown, but the Mercury Lounge has remained in the top five. What's even more amazing is the band I’m here to see. A band whose music has seen me through some of the best and some of the worst moments of my life. A band that has given me strength when I couldn't find any and taught me that sometimes it's okay to be fucked up.
“Right this way, Miss,” a tall, bald headed man with a red goatee says, gesturing for me to step forward.
Not having the patience to wait any longer to get inside, I texted Alec a few minutes ago to let him know I was going in without him and that I left his ticket at Will Call. Glancing down at my cell, there is still no response from him. Hoping he got the message, I step forward and hand the man my ticket.
He scans the bar code and hands the stub back to me before directing me
to a stocky, middle-aged woman.
“Arms out,” she instructs, proceeding to pat down my sides and run a little wand over my body. Once she’s certain that I’m not trying to smuggle in any weapons, she gives me a nod and gestures for me to go inside.
The entrance to the venue is exactly as I pictured it. A long, dimly lit hallway filled with autographed band posters that line each wall. I take a moment to look at each one as I pass, a bit in awe by my surroundings.
I reach the end of the hallway and finally step inside. Before me is a place like I have only ever seen in pictures. Dark red carpet. Black walls. It’s so dark and mysterious, yet oddly warm at the same time.
To my left is a large circular bar that sits feet from the back wall. Directly in front of me there are a few round top tables and to my right, the entire floor opens up. Several people have already gathered in front of the stage, no doubt trying to secure their spots.
There are two balconies. One sits above the bar. The other hovers over a good portion of the open floor space. Deciding that the only way to get the full experience is to be on the floor in front of the stage, I make my way through the sea of people crowded around me and take a spot next to the far right wall about ten feet back from where the band will be playing.
I decide to text Alec again in case he didn't get my first message, and then shove my cell in the back pocket of my dark, skinny jeans. Deciding this occasion called for more than my usual garb, I paired them with a fire engine red tank that dips low in both the front and back. It bunches at the sides and has long pieces of fabric that trail down about mid-thigh, really pulling the dark color of the jeans.
As much as I wanted to throw on my favorite black Converse, Emma wouldn't let me out of the house in them and as such, gave me no choice but to wear her three inch heeled black boots. While they may look awesome with the outfit, I have no doubt that my feet will not be thanking me later for that decision. I decided to wear my hair down and Emma worked her magic on my curls, giving my hair amazing body.
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