“What’s that?” His face looked wary in the dim light of the limo.
“Why did you leave home? What chased you away from the great metropolis of Chattanooga, Tennessee, with its river running through town and the park smack in the middle?”
I knew I sounded a little bitchy. It helped give him a reason to pull away. No rejection then. I controlled it.
He released me. “No reason in particular.” His voice had gone cold.
“Really? A guy takes off from home with nothing but what he’s carrying on his back, and it’s for no reason?”
“Just wanted to see the country.”
“That is so 1960,” I shot back. “Give me something real.”
His eyes were hard, glittering as he glared at me. “There wasn’t anything worth staying for in that town,” he said.
“No family? No girl? No job? Nothing?”
“Nothing,” he said again, and now his voice was bitter enough for me to know not to push it.
Which, of course, made me push harder.
“You piss off somebody’s husband? You croon for the wrong bimbo?”
“It’s in the past,” he said harshly. “Drop it.”
I sat back against the seat, not touching him now. This was good. If I couldn’t have him, I might as well not be all morose about it. Not liking him as we went our separate ways made it a whole lot easier.
The limo slowed as we turned into the gates of the party. Cars were still parked all over the lawn. It seemed as though nothing had changed. Maybe time stood still while we were out on that beach.
The thought made my cold resolve melt a little.
“It was fun,” I said. “I’m glad we did it.”
Chance let out a long slow exhale and relaxed a bit. “Yeah. Good luck with whoever that dude was at the party.”
“What?” I shot out. Then I remembered. Frankie. Hell, this guy thought I’d stepped out on a boyfriend. “Oh. Yeah. He’s more like my boss. This is his limo.”
“Oh.” He sounded unsure. “I hope you don’t get in trouble.”
“No, no,” I said. “It’s not like that. It’s — complicated.”
The limo slowed to a stop by the front steps.
“I bet.”
My throat felt a little tight now that we were actually at good-bye. There was no way I was stepping out of this limo, sand in my hair, salt water dried all over me. Besides, I’d had enough for one night. My glory days were at an end, and I needed to just ride off into the sunset.
“Good luck with your gigs,” I said to Chance. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
This made him pause. “Thanks,” he said. He hesitated, then leaned in and placed one last lingering kiss on my lips. “I’m sure I’ll be thinking of you for as long as there is still sand in my jeans pockets.”
I laughed. “Get on out of here, Chance the Crooner. Go seduce more girls with your love songs.”
He pulled away and moved toward the door. Brandon’s impeccable sense of timing kicked in and he opened it at just the right moment.
I watched Chance hop out of the limo and make his way around the side of the house. I felt a lump grow in my throat. Now that was a boy worth knowing, right there.
At least I’d had a little piece of him.
“You going back to the party, Miss Jenny?” Brandon asked.
“No,” I told him. “Let’s head back to San Diego.”
He closed the door.
I sat by the window as the limo moved forward in the drive. I couldn’t see into the darkness at the side of the house, so I wasn’t given any more glimpses of Chance. For a moment, my heart rebelled, and I wanted to go back, to chase after him.
But instead I lay down on the long seat and put my feet up. Sleep, Jenny, I told myself. Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of your life.
No more Frankie. No more fancy parties. Just finish college, get a job, and be part of the boring old world of grown-ups.
Chapter 14: Chance
The band was packing up the van when I made it around to the side of the house.
“Lover boy returns!” Paul said, setting the amplifier inside the back door.
“Let me help grab your gear,” I said, and followed the bass guitarist back to the stage.
The party was thinner now, most of the crowd sitting at the tables. I wondered if the gig had gone better after I left, or if everyone had drifted away from the stage again. The Sonic Kings should probably update their set list, pacing out the shows, but I wasn’t the one to tell them that. They had some talent. They were just disorganized and a little apathetic. It showed.
I picked up a drum box, already feeling stupidly nostalgic about the party. I paused, looking down where Jenny had stood at my feet and I hadn’t noticed for an entire song, still scanning the crowd for her pink dreadlocks.
I hopped to the ground, staring at the path we had taken to the gardens. She’d kissed me there so unexpectedly, just in time for that photographer to catch us. I hadn’t even noticed any cameras at the party until then.