Inevitable: Chapter 8
SIX YEARS LATER
Voice mail: “Peaches … Damn, I miss your voice. I … things are fucked up. I shouldn’t be calling, but I … well, Dad had me meet with a record label, and it went well. It went so well, Peaches, and the only person I wanted to talk to was you. I know it doesn’t make sense. I know you’re mad. You sounded so damn mad. I wasn’t gonna call. I shouldn’t be calling this late after, well, I don’t have a right to anymore. You’re back in school and I’ll be here and I know this isn’t right but … I love you. So fuckin’ much it hurts. Peaches, you’re still mine. You’ll always be mine. Remember that.”
It had been six years and I still had the same stupid voice message saved. The one time he called even though I tried to contact him countless times after he left. Someone may wonder how that’s possible. Well, after a not-so-proud moment of Googling how to forward it to an email, I had it saved on my laptop.
Pathetic, yes, I know.
I could tell someone where every sigh was in the message, when he slurred the words together, and how clearly he announced he loved me for the first time.
Those three little words. They were a sort of battle cry, the first one I’d ever heard. I found myself in a war with my own heart because it belonged to the enemy.
I listened to Jax’s drunken voice as I took another swig of Macallan. He sounded sincere, disoriented, ruined.
I blinked back the tears I sure as hell was not going to shed. Tonight, the words that sounded so sincere over a recording rang hollow, because tonight, Jax was on TV. Jax Stonewood, the guy I had tried to get over, was singing on TV. He was singing to a girl on TV. Then, he was hauling her up on stage, kissing her, and singing some more to her.
The crowd roared. I contemplated throwing my bottle at the screen.
My little friend, Control, reminded me of the obvious—waste of alcohol. I tipped the bottle again. Another swig and burn as I listened to that horrendous song.
When I said horrendous, I meant beautiful and heart-wrenching.
This was the song I could have sworn was written just for me, until he pulled the same damn woman on stage every time he sang it.
How many times could he sing this stupid song and get on TV for doing it?
It had been six years since he left and then called me to leave that message. Which meant six years ago, the record label started working on his album. Four whole years ago, it released and set the world ablaze. The album went triple platinum more quickly than any other, and he sold out every concert. Magazines claimed him to be the most eligible bachelor, and Rolling Stone titled him the Hot Male Version of Adele. He was Adele’s equal because he didn’t intend to come back or make another album. The spotlight, news outlets claimed, had been too much for him.
Seriously? After four years, they couldn’t give it a rest when he didn’t even want to be in the spotlight?
I tried to soothe my anger over the fact that he had only made the one stupid album. His fans had to start forgetting about him soon.
Right?
Right.
Except now he was creating a music app that was about to take over the whole damn world. He would get to be behind the scenes of the app and push other musicians to the forefront. Some of the marketing for it had him performing this same song.
Vick and Rome walked into my apartment and found me in my drunken stupor.
“Brey, you didn’t lock the door again,” Vick announced as she dropped her purse on the table. Then she spun around and saw me. “What the hell happened to you?”
Code for I looked like crap.
I continued staring at the TV.
She looked over and then snapped up the remote to turn it off. “You don’t need to be watching this!”
She and Rome were like overbearing, helicopter parents disguised as friends when it came to my history with Jax. So, I wasn’t surprised when Rome snatched my bottle of booze away and united with Vick in her Battle Jax Out of Aubrey’s Mind campaign.
“You need to stop focusing on this prick. And lock your damn door,” he grumbled.
I sniffled and smeared the mascara that I was sure had formed a raccoon mask over my cheeks. “I know.”
God, the pity in their eyes almost suffocated me.
“Just leave the alcohol, will you, Rome? I don’t need this from you two tonight. You were both out drinking. Why can’t I sit at home and drink?”
“Because you’re drinking alone and wallowing in misery!” Vick practically screeched as she swiped her hands through the air.
“You’re being dramatic,” I deadpanned.
“You’re being destructive again,” she mimicked.
I rolled my eyes and turned to Rome.
He studied me while I studied him. Black tattoos snaked around his arms and wrapped him up into one delicious, mysterious package.
Katie had egged me on when we first met him while he was bartending, saying he looked like sex on a stick. And she was right. I knew when a lethally gorgeous man stood in front of me. Rome, he was beyond lethal. His body was cut and he towered over almost everyone. His dark hair and eyes both looked unruly and untamed.
Yet, none of that pulled me to him. I didn’t care about how hot any guy was really. For years, no one sparked anything in me like Jax had.
Rome though, hooked me with his dark eyes, so black I couldn’t make out where the pupil ended and iris began. Most of the time, those eyes were just as empty as they were obsidian. They pulled me into their abyss, as if I could fill them up for just a night. I could make him whole because I knew how empty he felt, being just as broken as him.
“You going to give me back the alcohol?” I finally asked.
“You gonna drown yourself in Jax being with another woman after all these years?” Leave it to Rome to twist the knife in quickly, even if it was as blunt as ever.
“I don’t care that he’s moved on.”
Rome crossed his arms and waited.
I just glared back at him.
And because Vick could never take a second of silence, she burst out, “Oh my God. Who cares, Brey? We know you’re mad because he’s finally settling down with that Isabel chick. I would be too. He’s ridiculous and he’ll come to his senses!” She waved her arms around as if the news of him being ridiculous was obvious. “We know it, you know it, even his brother knows it.”
I sighed. “Can we not talk about this?”
“Well, we wouldn’t be if you weren’t watching his concert,” Vick retorted.
They’d know tomorrow anyway. Telling them now would just prepare them for when my alcohol-induced haze wore off the next morning and I had to face my nightmare. “Jax is coming to Jay’s graduation tomorrow,” I whispered.
Saying it out loud, even when it was barely loud enough for anyone to hear, sped my heart up. My nightmare was becoming a reality, because somehow, I’d always made sure it was just a nightmare, seeing him again.
Which was stupid. Jay was my best friend and his brother had to be in his life sometimes. Unfortunately.
Somehow though, we’d avoided crossing paths and if we did, we didn’t speak.
Jay’s graduation would be different. His graduation would make gossip magazines. Jax’s presence, along with the Stonewood parents being there, would solidify that. With people watching, our interactions not isolated to a private place and the family’s celebrity status, I would be on display. Conversation between Jax and me would be necessary because of how close I was to the rest of his family.
I was doomed.
Rome and Vick exchanged looks. A worried silence saturated the air around us. I wanted to scream loud enough to make it all go away.
Rome plopped down onto our gray couch right beside me. “You sure?”
I nodded. “Jay stopped by today to tell me.”
“And then he left?” Rome erupted.
“Well, I’m just fine!” I said as I threw up my hands, because it was exactly what I had to convince Jay of before he left.
Vick rolled her eyes. “Sure. You look just fine to me.”
Rome stared at her and then cut his eyes to me, as if deciding something. “Fuck it. I’m joining you in your wallowing.”
He took a long pull from the bottle, wiped the back of his arm across his mouth and then handed the bottle back to me. “Damn, that’s some shit.”
Vick looked mortified. “If he’s coming tomorrow, you can’t just drink yourself into oblivion! And Jay’s premiere is coming up. You have to—”
“She doesn’t have to do anything, Vick.”
A glaring contest ensued. Would it have been wrong to just let them fight it out and sneak to the back room with the bottle?
“I have my alarm set, Vick. I’ll be ready.” I sounded like I was going to war.
Who was I kidding? I was going to war and it would be bloody.
Both of them looked like they wanted to say more. Instead, I turned up the TV and let it fill the silence. Then, I shrugged and took another swig.
Vick’s eyes bulged. “You’ll look like crap tomorrow if you keep drinking.”
Rome chuckled. “Who gives a shit?”
“She does!” She pointed at me.
“No, I don’t!” I yelled back, now just as pissed as her.
“Now, now,” Rome chided as if we were his two children. “You’re both drunk. Vick, go sleep it off. I got this.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’ll just bet you have it.” With that, she whipped around and stalked out of the room, her long blonde hair waving behind her furiously, as if to show me how aggravated we’d had made her.
I sighed and slumped down into the couch.
Rome threw his arm on the back of the couch and rubbed his thumb up my shoulder. No spat with Vick ever really phased him. Instead, he flicked through some channels and settled on a rerun of House. We watched in silence as House cracked another case, saved another life, and went on playing the piano.
On a commercial, and after handing the bottle back to Rome for another swig, I announced, “I wish I had a physical illness that House could cure rather than a broken heart.”
Roman laughed quietly. “You’re an idiot, Brey.”
“What? It would be easier. Someone else could just figure out what was wrong with me, and poof, I’d be cured. Instead, I know what’s wrong, but no one can cure me.”
I leaned my head onto his shoulder.
He smoothed my hair like he wanted to soothe away my pain. “It takes time.”
“Is that really all it takes?” I was alluding to Rome’s demons, and I felt his muscles tense under me.
You see, he and I were one and the same. We didn’t trust easily, and when we did, we trusted with our whole soul. It was the reason I couldn’t get over Jax. I trusted him with everything. My whole fucked-up life, my whole fucked-up self, and he’d abandoned me.
He’d abandoned me just as Rome had been abandoned after he’d shared his fucked-up life with someone too.
When I looked at him, his eyes were inviting me into their abandoned void.
I licked my lips.
He whispered into my hair, “Walk to my place with me?”
He caught my eyes flicking to the back room where Vick had disappeared to.
“She’s passed out by now. Don’t let her take-no-shit attitude fool you. She’s small as hell, and the shots she had at the club tonight would have brought her to her knees had I not taken her home.”
I smiled a little. “That why you came home so early?”
“That and I knew you’d be here to fuck.”
I should have said no. I should have told him it was wrong to sleep with someone without your heart being involved. I didn’t really believe that though.
We’d complicated things so much already by sleeping together for so long, because what else does a person do when they’re broken? They find solace in another broken person. Misery loves the miserable.
That I believed with all the broken pieces of my heart.
I took Rome’s hand and followed him out the door. My blood was already rushing just knowing I could get lost in someone other than Jax.
I’m sure Rome’s was rushing for the very same reason.