He came closer. He knows. He can hear me when I’m buckling. He has the sight to see when I’m on that edge. He plays me like his guitar, knowing just what strings to pluck away at.
“Don’t leave like this,” he said into my temple. “And don’t tell me to do things we both wouldn’t survive.”
I set my cheek into his shoulder but before he could get his arms around me I stepped back and took my bag. “I need some space.” I ran past him and down the steps.
“Trix,” Jolee tried to grab for me but I pushed her out of the way. Knox tried cutting me off at the door to put my phone in my pocket but I refused.
“No,” I grabbed my coat, “let them worry for a while. I’m taking the day off from it.” I went out and slammed the door.
Adam wants to see a less selfless Trix, he’s gonna get it. I already know I’ll have him climbing walls when he realizes he can’t contact me in this city.
I put my earbuds in from an old-ass iPod I have and blasted some stuff before putting on my coat. My boots clicked down the hall and when I went outside I realized it was a little cold for a tiny plaid dress and stockings. I didn’t dress this morning, thinking I would be walking the streets.
I was all over the place, navigating my way around and some New Yorkers are pretty friendly. They give directions and seem proud of their home.
I found the famous Central Park and pulled my coat closer as I walked it. I went over this enormous bow bridge, saw great statues… This place took my mind off all the sadness. I didn’t allow myself to think about it. I made myself selfish. There was no phone buzzing to make me feel guilty either. I left the park and walked through the city, staring up at crazy tall buildings and passing really great smelling food at vendor stands.
That was when I heard it. Someone was skillfully playing guitar and I popped out my headphones to listen. I followed the sound only to get close enough to make out the tune, Hit the Road Jack. I smiled and soon my steps matched the beat.
I even spun on my heels before keeping on. Then it came up, the song. The lyrics of one of my favorite classics came whispering off my tongue. The guitar kept spitting the melody and I found my way to the source by time a male voice started singing the start of it.
Smooth. That’s the best way to describe this guy, whoever he is. His voice was like honey with a rasp to the high notes. Adam is gruff, like the blues rock star he is.
I came around the bend in the sidewalk to see a guy sitting on a suitcase. He was bundled up in a worn out coat and fingerless gloves. His head was bent over the guitar and his foot bounced with the notes. He was a long fella, with an attractive profile but my attention was on the guitar. It was scribbled on with lots of signatures.
Beside him was a really adorable Golden Retriever. He was wearing a ratty red handkerchief and sat nobly at his master’s side.
The guy’s guitar case was open and a few people were listening so a tiny bit of cash was in the case. Right where the break came for the female lead in the song I sang over the crowd.
His head came up and I was met with a pair of impressed green eyes. He let me sing the solo of my part as I walked up and the little bit of people listening parted to let me through.
He took up the male lead again with a smile and really threw himself into it. I stood beside him and during my solo, he stood up and blew me away with more skilled playing.
We sang together in perfect harmony. It was strange. We seemed to gauge one another and the profit was the well-executed jamming of a classic. His hoarse vocal cords supported my flow. We lived the song. I would step toward him with dismissive hand gestures to have a go at acting the part and he would come back at me with a lyric induced attitude. Like a couple splitting.
I gave his shoulder a little shove on the final repeated line and he came back, moving closer to finish the song with a strange sort of familiar ease that suddenly came over us.
It was so good that when we heard the applause we both startled a little. We gathered quite an audience. I looked down at his guitar case and saw we’d also made a fair amount.
People started to dissipate and I held out my hand, “Hello stranger that I sang with, my name is Trix.”
He laughed, “Hello Trix the stranger, my name is Liam.” We shook on it and I felt a heat crawl up my neck. Liam is cute. His shortly cut, ginger hair is matched by his warm complexion. He’s golden like he’s in the sun a lot and his face holds two matching dimples. He’s tall like Adam and his face is covered in scruff.
“You are, super talented,” I told him.
“As are you. You sound… amazing.”
“Thanks.” My eyes dropped to his dog as he lazed his way over to me. “Well, hello there,” I said scrunching down. The dog took a few sniffs of my hand but then let me love him up, “you are very handsome,” I told him.
“Thanks,” said Liam.
I laughed, “I was talking to your dog.”
He laughed too, “I know, couldn’t resist, though.”
“What’s his name?” I asked.
“He answers to, Buddy.”
I scratched behind both Buddy’s ears and he licked my cheek. “You are just a love muffin, aren’t you?” I looked up at Liam, “How old is he?”
“I don’t know; he’s mine by fate. We’re both strays.”
I pieced that together. Liam is obviously homeless. I smiled at him, “How did you come to play? You really are good, like album good.”
He pushed rubble with his shoe, “Long story. You’d get bored.”
“I don’t think so,” I stood up and took a look at his guitar. “Is that…?” I came closer and he held it up so I could see, “Tom Sweeney?”
He smiled, “Yeah he’s a legend out on the west coast. Him and his band-.”
“Blakgraz,” I supplied.
He looked shocked. “You know them?”
I picked up my headphones and came closer to hold them to his ears. Ride with the Top Down was playing, a great song off their album.
He bugged his eyes, “You are seriously the coolest girl in the world.” He said.
I laughed, “Well, I try, but I’m not the one with a guitar full of autographs.”
“I’m from Louisiana, the French Quarter, but after… some stuff that happened I traveled all over. I took this old thing everywhere and when I met up with majorly talented artists I had them sign it.” He took the shoulder strap of his guitar off, “Do you play?”
“No, I’m a songwriter, backup singer and just, little instruments…”
“Who do you backup?” He asked removing the cash from his case before setting the guitar in.
“Adam Ryder.”
He froze. “I’m sorry,” he stood up, “You mean, the Adam Ryder? The guy from Riders of Beat? That Adam?”
I shook my head with a smile, “I’m still so surprised people outside Colorado have heard of us.”
“Okay,” he felt around in his coat pockets then brought forth a marker, “Sign,” he tapped the guitar in the open case.
“Really?” I held the maker to my chest, “Me? I can get you Adam’s…”
He tapped an empty space. “No, ma’am, I want yours.”
I bit my lip with glee then knelt to sign. My hand was shaky with excitement. Buddy came to lean into me after.
“So do you play anything else?” I asked.
“Lots of things; keyboard, violin, organ… don’t ask, my mom was catholic.”
We laughed. “What’s your story?”
He swallowed while looking into my eyes and I felt something. It was really subtle but it warmed my whole body.
“It’s…a long story…” he said again. He counted out the cash then held out a small wad, “Here, I think considering you blew them away you should take half.”
I shook my head and gently pushed it back, “Nah, you need it, not me.”
He was about to argue.
“Tell you what, though,” I jumped to my feet and shouldered my bag, “I have songs I’m work
ing on for the band and I have an abundance of time until tonight when we play. Wanna get coffee?”
He winced.
I hurried on, “You’re one of those macho types that refuse to let ladies pay, right?” Trouble is he’s homeless. I don’t want to kill his pride. “But, it’s an unspoken rule that the person doing the inviting does the paying and in a feminist way, you are totally obliged to let me buy you a coffee.”
He grinned more to himself as he shut his case. His smile made my stomach flutter.
“Um,” he debated.
“We could go to a café…get warm. It’s so cold out here; I don’t know how you and Buddy do it.”
He stood and slung his guitar case over his back before picking up the one suitcase he’d been sitting on. “Alright…” He petted Buddy’s head, “I know a place that is pet-friendly….”
“Great,” I gestured for him to take the lead.
ADAM
When Trix showed up at the club it was ten minutes before we go on.
“Where the fuck have you been?” I said grabbing her by the upper arm. I spun her to look at me. “You don’t see how stupid that was? Going into a city you don’t know, with no phone?! God damn it, Trix! What were you thinking?”
She pried my hand off, “I have to get my tambourine,” she got loose and left.
I stormed after her and snatched the tambourine. The guys all went silent. They witness all our shit all the time, every fight.
“Answer me!” I yelled.
She gave me a sarcastic smile, “oh look, the robot shows emotion after all.”
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”
Knox came up, “Guys, now’s not really the time to do this-.”
She ignored him, “What I mean is, it’s nice to see you have an anger switch. This might be the most passionate I ever see you. You even fuck like a machine so this is a little exciting. Except on stage, I would say you sing like you have feelings sometimes.”
I was so thrown by her admission I fumed in quiet. The guys were in tight-lipped shock and the defiance coming off Trixie was violent.
Why were we getting so brutal with each other? Today I told her to stop being so open, now she’s telling me to stop being so closed.
“Five minutes!” Zeus shouted before going on stage to do his thing.
Trixie and I just stood there staring heatedly at each other. I can usually make her fold. A touch in the right place, a sorry whispered in her ear, but not tonight.
“Come on, Adam,” she took the tambourine back, “let’s go pretend to have soul.” she went to the stage and the guys followed. I collected myself then went out with them. We started our set and I let the music tend to the gash in my heart. I’m losing Trix, and it’s by my own hand. The band feels it too.
My eyes met with Chance’s across the club and I let myself connect with him. I needed a focal point and he was it. Those sapphire eyes iced over the fire that was burning me up alive and made the lyrics to each song feel real for a change.
When our time was done we all packed up in silence. Blaze went to the bar, Knox and Diego went to the pool tables and Trix disappeared again.
I roamed the club until I found a tall skinny table with two chairs. I sat down and waited while listening to Bianca as she took the stage with her mixes.
“Drink?” Chance appeared at my side and asked over the noise.
“Yeah,” I pushed my fingers through my hair. “I’ll take a Rusty Nail.”
His brows flew up, “Is drunk Adam more fun than sober Adam?”
“I have a high tolerance, so no.”
He left but when he came back he handed me my drink and sat in the open chair, “I thought you told me no more leering?” he said.
I took a sip of my drink. “I did.”
“Then what was with all the staring?”
I drank more, “I needed a focus I guess.”
“Then stare at Trix.”
His words were sharp but passive. I took a second to let the feelings he stokes in me flame a little then doused them with water. “Do you like doing this?” I asked. I can’t talk about her. “The club?”
He looked around, “It’s what I worked toward since I was a kid. Yeah, I like it. I didn’t intend for it to be forever…more of a middle point.”
“Was where you started so bad?”
He loosened his tie, “I used to dumpster dive for dinner, so yeah.”
It stung to hear that. “That bad?”
“Yeah… so I made sure I wouldn’t go back to that.”
I turned my drink on the table surface, “Ever imagine letting all this go? Having a family?”
“Once,” he admitted.
“With the guy from the Army?” I pried.
He nodded while focusing on a speck on the table.
The memory of this man; he for some reason made me envious. I can’t help but wonder what love from a man like Chance would feel like.
“I’m losing her…” I voiced it before the filter could kick in.
I expected wisdom from him but instead, he said, “Let me know when she goes, so I can try my luck.”
I brought the drink to my lips, “I told you, I don’t do guys anymore.”
“After me, you wouldn’t be doing anybody,” he stood up and I had to put work into getting the drink to go down my throat.
I can’t swallow and now my throat is burning up. An image fell into my head of touching Chance Urban. A picture of Chance Urban touching me. Nope. I swore off men, and more importantly, I don’t intend on losing Trix and her comforting love.
He walked away and I sighed. I looked around from my spot for Trix but found Jolee. She’s really taking the job seriously. I can see her floating around, taking orders and bringing them. I think the thing with Trix scared some sense into her, but then she stopped to talk to Jax, that guy they all warn about.
I’m not cleaning up more of her messes but I watched anyway.
Chapter Eight
TRIXIE
I decided to stay with the guys in their apartment for a while. I went home that night with Adam and went right upstairs to pack a few things in my duffle.
“What are you doing?” Adam asked over my shoulder.
“I’m staying with Knox, Diego, and Blaze next door.” I carefully tucked my laptop power cord with my things, “just for a while.”
He sat on the bed, beside my stuff and pushed his hands down his pant legs, “Don’t leave me.” He tried. “Tell me how to fix this.”
I didn’t look at him, in fear I’d cave, “I don’t know if we can. You don’t let me in. Ten years and there are things about you I still don’t know.”
“What do you want to know?”
I shouldn’t ask but what if I miss my window? Maybe he really is ready to talk. Jolee is still working the bar and the guys are in their apartment.
I stopped and looked. His handsome face, it destroyed me right away. I drew the back of my hand down his bearded cheek and he closed his eyes. Opening his legs in an unspoken summons, I went to stand between his knees and stroked his face and neck.
“You’re breaking me, Adam,” I cried a little. “I never hate you more than when you’re about to let me go. Those are the times I absolutely hate you. Then you grab on to me, and it’s when I love you the most too. Isn’t that bad? What are we doing?”
He leaned forward and nestled his head in my chest. I fingered his hair and kissed the top of his head.
“I can’t think about that,” he said wrapping me in his arms. “But I can give you a reason to stay.”
I sank so I could sit in his lap. He held me tightly against him, “Why did you swear off men?” I asked what I’d tried asking so many times before. “What happened before we met?”
He took a breath, “I was…always a robot okay? That part didn’t develop; it’s just how I am.” He teased but I could sense it was to seem unaffected by what was coming. “When I was sixteen, I told my parents I was gay. They already knew,
you know my parents, they had a bet running on when I would figure it out for myself.”
I smiled thinking of them. “What made you tell them then?”
He shifted me on his lap, “I’d been secretly dating my best friend, Timothy for like a year. We wanted to go to prom together, come out together to the school. His parents knew but mine didn’t and I wanted to tell them first.”
This was the most he’d ever shared with me, “Was it scary?”
“No. I loved him, and I wanted to prove that. He used to get frustrated with me like you do, because I wasn’t good at telling him how I felt, or showing him. I wouldn’t hold his hand or kiss him if there were people around so this was like a way for me to really show him…”
I caressed his chest, “So you pushed past all those robotic feelings to take him to prom?” I felt a little jealous.
He pinched at the fabric of my stockings so he wouldn’t have to look at me, “I fully intended to. Things went pretty wrong from there. I was on the hockey team. Star player. Remember?”
“Yeah, what’s that got to do with it?”
“When I showed up at prom I got on stage and played a love song for Timothy, I instantly made every guy on the team hate me. The whole locker room phobia shit. I didn’t let it bother me; I was there to show Tim something. He loved my voice and even though I felt like I was two steps from an asthma attack I displayed the most public affection to date.”
He was really avoiding my eyes, “They were holding the prom in our school gym. After I played I went to take my guitar to the car…guys from the gym jumped me. One broken nose, two cracked ribs, one broken rib, which in turn punctured a lung and an arm that was out of joint. That was my price for being out about my feelings…”
I was aching all over at the thought. Imagining him in that kind of pain tore me up. “What happened after?” I asked.
He clenched and unclenched his jaw, “Well, for starters my Dad was livid. Not with the boys but with me. Told me if I was going to be myself I needed the ability to defend my choices. I didn’t fight back so he was pretty pissed. Soon as I was totally healed he taught me self-defense. He said if I ever came back that bloody and broken without at least fucking up one of my attackers, he wouldn’t let me come home.”
The Significant Other (The Relationship Quo Series Book 4) Page 9