And he knew they knew.
And he used it against them—against us.
He slowly leaned over me, his body hot as it covered mine. What was happening? And why was I letting it? He lowered his mouth to my ear and whispered, “Hit me with a pillow again, and I’m putting arsenic in your pancakes.”
And just like that, I was jolted back to reality as I bucked against him and smacked him in the chest. “Why are you such a jackass?”
“Born this way.” He grinned and hopped off of me, giving me an insane view of his ass in Under Armour joggers as he left the room, only to poke his head back in. “At least I have a valid reason for being what I am. What’s your excuse?”
I seethed. “Excuse for what?”
“Being an all-around bitch. Abandoning people. Cutting people out of your life. Or maybe your frigid tendencies, hmm?” He shrugged. “At least I know what I am. At least I claim it. You just sit there and pretend you’re without fault.”
“That’s not true!” I yelled, jumping to my feet as I pulled the tangled bit of sheet off the bed. “I never pretended to be anything but who I am!”
“How sad.” He said it like he really meant it. “That even after a decade away, you’re still the same scared girl, running in the opposite direction of everything you want just because you’re too afraid to have it.”
I slapped him across the face so hard, my hand stung.
He bit out a curse and stormed off.
Typical.
And yet, when I heard the shower turn on and heard him start singing like he always used to while using his pink loofah…
I felt immediate guilt, not just for slapping him.
But because I knew he was right.
And I hated that he still saw through me like that. Like he always had. As if I had nothing to lose when I had everything at stake.
It was easy for people like Ty, ones who just went after things blindly, willing to fight whatever monsters lay in their way. There was no logic to his decisions, only passion.
But logic kept people safe.
It made the world go ‘round, right?
Ty Cuban never played it safe. And I hated that he didn’t recognize why normal people had to.
The shower turned off. I made myself busy and went in search of some coffee just in time to see the man himself walk into the kitchen in nothing but a tiny, minuscule towel that looked as if it had been made for hands not bodies.
I almost ran into the fridge before stumbling a bit and grabbing a cup and turning on the Keurig.
He walked right by me, grabbed two pods, and then his own coffee cup. “Mind making me one while I get dressed?”
“You insult me and then ask for favors?” I didn’t make eye contact.
“I was honest about how I feel, which I think typically gives guys points in the pro section, not the con. And since I gave you a roof over your head, I’m gonna go ahead and say, yeah, I am.” He patted me on the freaking head and walked off, but not before I grabbed the edge of his towel and tugged.
It fell to the floor right between us.
“Oops.” I grinned. “Sorry.”
He picked it up and started twisting and wrapping it around itself.
Oh, shit.
I ran in the opposite direction just as I heard the first whip of the towel then burst out laughing when he slipped into a barstool. “Running only encourages me.”
I laughed and then jumped over the couch while he sprinted after me. “Stopppp!” I felt the air whoosh next to my bare legs and then went into the bathroom and shut the door, but not before he put his foot in the opening and followed me inside.
“No place to run, Abs.” His grin was menacing and beautiful. “So what will it be? Coffee? Or do you want to feel my wrath?”
He was naked.
Half-aroused.
I gulped and tried to look anywhere but at his crotch.
His grin grew.
Other things grew.
“You okay, Abs? You look a little flushed.”
“It’s hot,” I said through clenched teeth.
“Hmm, maybe take a cold shower, I know I did. I’m only human…”
I blinked up at him. His chest heaved as he took a step closer.
Steam still filled the bathroom from his shower as I backed up against the wall. He pinned me against it, his hands on either side of my head, his lips inches from mine, the towel forgotten.
“What are you doing?” I asked in a half-whisper.
“Taking.” He pressed his mouth to mine in a painful kiss, one that said exactly what was on his mind. I felt the words that were directed at me that he never got to speak out loud, all the hurt that he felt in his soul. All of that was in that kiss and the way he pressed his body against mine. He was bigger now, older, obviously. We’d been kids back then.
We were adults now.
And this was a very adult kiss.
One that made me sad because it made me think about all of the girls in the last decade who had been on the other side of it.
His tongue swirled against mine, taking, taking, taking. It seemed that was all he could do—take, not give.
So I let him.
Deep down, I knew that he deserved more than a flippant remark as I turned my back on us.
We broke apart.
Ty’s blue eyes were wild.
It was terrifying.
And beautiful.
“I figured that would hurt worse.” He hung his head. “Instead, I think the pain was more self-inflicted than anything…” He turned around. “I gotta go to the studio…”
I don’t know how long I stayed in that spot in the bathroom, tears in my eyes.
Long enough for me to hear the door slam.
Long enough for there to be a cup of coffee waiting for me in the kitchen.
Long enough for him to leave a note that said: Find somewhere else to stay.
And for the first time in a long while, I sat on the couch and cried as I touched my trembling lips with my hand, remembering the way the kiss had felt.
So good.
So simple, yet so complicated.
Then again, love always was.
Because we made it that way.
Chapter Eight
Ty
“I’m an idiot,” I muttered as I walked into Trevor’s studio and pulled out a seat behind the recording booth.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” he said without looking up from the board. “But, seriously, tell me more. Did you sleep with another groupie? Walk out into the thunderstorm last night with a hairdryer? Really, I’m all ears.”
I glared at the back of his gray Henley and black beanie and made a face. “Aww, is someone not getting laid?”
He spun his chair around and crossed his arms. “Me getting laid isn’t the problem. Say it with me, ‘commitment.’”
“Did you say that slowly for my benefit, or because you forgot how to enunciate?”
“Jackass.” He rolled his eyes and grinned. “So, tell me, what did you do this time? Now I really am curious.”
“Oh, you know, the usual self-sabotage…like inflicting your own wound and wondering why the hell you’re bleeding all over the place. Super fun. Might do it again sometime. Spoiler alert, if she keeps staying with me, it’s going to happen tonight…”
“She?” Trevor leaned forward. “Are we talking about some random girl, or the one who took your heart and lit it on fire then ran it over with her Maserati for good measure?”
“She blew up my heart with c-4, and it was a Benz. But, yeah, same girl.”
“Hmm.” He started tapping a pen against his jeans. “Is there a reason she’s staying with you when you guys can’t be in the same vicinity without resorting to physical violence and mental warfare?”
“Right, so…” I sighed and wiped my hands down my face. “It seems I have a heart. And before you laugh, remember, it’s very tender. Tread lightly.”
Trevor grinned. “Ah, so it came to
life the minute you saw her, and you just couldn’t say no?”
“More like”—I thought about it, I mean really thought about it—“I was exhausted. Had a moment of weakness, which she most likely recognized. She brought up a trigger, I couldn’t say no. And maybe, just maybe, I like to play the hero every once in a while. The villain is so fucking taxing, you know?”
“No, not really.” He burst out laughing. “Though I’m surprised you’re alive without any sort of bruising or scratches. Then again, you are wearing a leather jacket, so it could be a way to cover up the marks.”
“Very funny,” I grumbled. “She woke me up with a pillow fight.” I held up my hands. “But before you get all excited and ask if we started dancing to Tay Swift in our underwear, no, it wasn’t sexy. It pissed me the hell off. I straddled her, realized that I was stuck between either murdering her with my bare hands or kissing her, freaked the hell out, and left the situation only to be faced with another low-blow. I just can’t stop myself from reacting. And every time I react, my brain misfires and goes ‘holy shit, man, she’s flirting, kiss her, do it, do it now!’”
Trevor was quiet for a minute and then said, “I think you need therapy.”
“My dick needs therapy.” I crossed my arms. “I kissed her, you know.”
“And did she bite your tongue off or kiss you back?”
I looked away. “Doesn’t matter. I ruined it by insulting her, us, call it what you want, but I think she’s driving me absolutely insane. I told her to stay somewhere else, and I’m already regretting it.”
“Okay, I’ll bite. Putting on the therapist hat…why do you think you’re regretting it when you guys get along like oil and water?”
“Maybe because my heart recognizes she’s the jelly to my peanut butter, even though she’s masquerading as the worst flavor of the bunch. I mean, who really likes marmalade?”
“Nobody.”
“Thank you!” I threw my hands into the air. “Nobody. I mean, could she at least try to be grape? Hell, I’d even take blackberry! But, no, she has to be the orange kind, and my heart doesn’t fucking care because no matter how many times I recognize how wrong it is, I’d rather fight than lose her…”
Trevor’s grin was huge. “You’re growing up.”
“You are literally two years older than me, shut the hell up.”
He raised his hand. “Been divorced, have three kids, just got into my first real relationship where I feel like an adult and don’t want to murder the person I’m with, finally happy… Yeah, I’d say you’re where I was at a few years ago.” He shrugged. “Part of this whole agreement was that you had to spend a few hours with her. My suggestion is to use this as an opportunity to see if something is still there. You might be surprised.”
“Surprised?”
“Ten years is a long time, man. It’s easy to project all that shit from the past into the present. But she’s not the same girl anymore. You’re not the same guy. You were barely at legal drinking age… Plus, what do you have to lose?”
Everything.
I was quiet.
My silence said everything because Trevor knew I didn’t like it. I filled the silence with my words because I hated being alone with my thoughts. They were too deep, too scary, too…revealing.
Words were easier when you didn’t have to think about them.
“I’m afraid this is it. My final concert. What happens if we don’t get our encore?”
“Then you, Ty Cuban, finally grow the hell up, stop sleeping around, and move on.”
“But sex is so fun,” I teased.
“Nice deflection, but you know you just replaced one drug with another. Ask Alec all about that one. He was addicted to all the hard stuff, then replaced it with his girlfriend, now wife. That did not end well for him. She forgave him, and they got over it, but I wouldn’t recommend trading out addictions. Demetri took up running. Maybe you need a hobby that doesn’t break hearts and crush souls, hmm?”
“Maybe.” I gulped. Why did my throat feel thick? Was I having an allergic reaction to the air in the studio?
Or was I actually feeling…guilty?
Shit.
Now my eyes felt watery.
I tugged at my shirt. “It’s stuffy in here.”
“It’s okay to be emotional.”
“You can stop talking anytime, Trev.”
He grinned. “Fine, your first student gets here in ten minutes. Pull your shit together. You have two more after that, then some free time to start writing a few songs. I want something…sad. Think you’re up for it?”
“Of course.” I winked, even though I felt like my soul was screaming on the inside. Write something sad? Of course I could. Because I’d been living in a perpetual state of sadness for a decade.
I knew it well.
We were best friends.
Because Trevor was right about one thing.
I replaced things.
And just like my addictions…
I’d replaced the best friend I used to have with the only thing she left me with.
Sadness.
Chapter Nine
Abigail
“So you’re going to be in charge of entertainment during lunch.” Drew handed me an iPad. “These are all the requested songs from the kids. Don’t botch ours, or Ty will probably murder you, especially if you sing his part like you did last time in a whiny girl voice.”
I smirked. “Admit it, that was hilarious.”
“Yes, so funny that he threw a chair through the window once it went viral on BuzzFeed. Couldn’t find him for two days. He showed up high as a kite, and we had to cancel our concert.” He glared. “But sure, hilarious.”
Guilt slammed into me. “It was just a joke.”
“Right, just like it was only a heart you broke.”
“Don’t pretend like you know everything.” I seethed. “It’s not fair.”
Drew sighed. “Look, I’ve always been Switzerland. It sucks enough that we all have mutual friends and connections, but I’m starting to lean into the bro territory only because he actually likes kids, right? So the fact that he was willing to do anything so he didn’t have to work next to you means he’s still not over you. It means it’s been a decade of hurt, and he still can’t function. That’s not normal.”
I swallowed the hurt in my throat. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“Don’t say…sing.” He pointed me to the stage. “And do me a favor?”
“What?”
“Don’t break his heart a second time. I’m not so sure he has enough pieces left for even his best friends to glue back together if you do. And, trust me, I know what it feels like to be left broken without anyone to help you. It’s not a fun place to be.” His gaze darkened. “And, no, I’m not telling you anything, so get that girlie look out of your eye that says ‘spill.’ We aren’t best friends, that title goes to Zane.”
“Someone called?” Zane came up and wrapped his arm around me, then tilted his head. “Did you sleep with someone last night?”
My eyes widened.
What the hell? Did he have a sixth sense or something?
Drew’s expression turned murderous and in my direction.
Perfect.
“Um, no. I just…acquired a roommate,” I offered lamely.
Zane sniffed my hair and backed up. “You smell like Ty.”
“I DO NOT!” I yelled, earning the attention of a few campers, who gave me terrified looks. Great, I’d just scared all the first-graders. I gave them all a weak smile and a wave, only managing to get them to turn around as quickly as they’d swiveled my way.
I was making friends fast, that was for sure.
“Sorry for yelling.” I snuck a look at Drew. I hated that he looked disappointed in me, almost as much as I hated that he had struck a chord. “I’m not sleeping with him. He did let me stay in his condo for the night. It was raining, they messed up my reservation…point is, we didn’t kill each other, but I got scared.�
� Drew cursed. “And we slept in the same bed, but I was under the covers. He was on top.” There, that sounded better.
Zane covered his smile with the back of his hand then said, “Did you, uh, manage to draw a line down the middle of the bed too, or did you just build a barricade with pillows?”
“Very funny.” I shoved him.
“Hey!” He held up his hands. “I’m just curious. Plus, a guy like Ty doesn’t really do boundaries…”
Zane didn’t know.
The thunder.
The omen.
The night I’d never forget.
No boundaries was right, wasn’t it?
“Hey.” Drew looked suddenly concerned. “Are you okay to play?”
“Yeah.” I pulled away. “Just great.” I flashed them both an easy smile and walked onto the stage, pulling my guitar over my head and reaching for the mic.
“Hey, everyone. I’m Von Abigail, and I’m here to entertain you while you eat the best seafood Seaside has to offer!” Cheers erupted. “How’s day two going?”
More cheers.
Kids. They were so easy.
“All right, so we’re going to start with an AD2 favorite. Sing along if you know it!” I raised my hands over my head and started the tempo with my clap. The kids followed suit, all of them already jamming out as I sang the first few words.
I couldn’t stop smiling as all the kids giggled and joined in.
And, for a few brief moments, I was free.
All the crap from earlier, from the past, was gone.
I was transported.
“I’m petrified.” I stared at the stage I would be doing my very first headliner performance on. Ty was right behind me, holding me. I relied on him for everything.
And he took on the job like a champ. I was alone on the road, he was all I had, and since he had no family, it was like I was all his and his alone.
I loved it.
Never once felt suffocated.
I was his. He was mine. Period.
“You’ll be fine,” he whispered in my ear. “And if you get scared, just remember, I’ll be on stage left, cheering you on after our set. All right? Plus, you’ve done this before.”
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