My Unexpected Forever by Heidi McLaughlin
The music sheet doesn’t make any sense. I’ve been over it a hundred times or more and it’s still all a blur. I know the lyrics and the beat, but everything I put down is a mess. Liam is expecting something from me by the time band practice starts in an hour, and I’m not going to be able to deliver. My mind is consumed with thoughts of love and lust and there isn’t jack shit I can do about it.
I rip my ears buds out and move away from my computer. I can’t do this, not today. Not after seeing her last night. I hate that I can’t tell her how I feel. I hate that when another man looks at her, I feel nothing but murderous rage. I want to be the only one looking at her.
I’m a fool to think she wants me, with my full-sleeved tattoos and rocker lifestyle. I know I can offer her more than those other men. A stable home, financial security and a man who will worship and kiss the ground that she walks on. But I’m not the one you can take home to mom or to the school PTA meetings without being stared at. I know she doesn’t want that. Enough people stare at her now.
I pull out a clean sheet of paper and write down more lyrics. More touchy-feely shit that I wish I could tell her. Instead, I show up almost daily with something to offer her; coffee, lunch, or a free lawn mowing job because I can’t, for the life of me, get it through my head that I’m nothing more than just a friend to her, and that’s all I’ll ever be.
I write down six words before tearing the paper up. I know why Liam tasked me with putting the music down for these songs, but they’re mine. I hadn’t planned on sharing them with the band. I think he’s trying to get back at me for all those things I said about him falling in love when he returned home for his buddy’s funeral. Now that it’s my turn, he’s sitting back and laughing his ass off. I ought to write some heavy shit. The head pounding scream-your-lungs-out shit that I sometimes think about. Either way, we need new songs and we’ve all been taxed with producing something.
But no, that isn’t who we are. We’ve skyrocketed with Liam’s heartfelt ballads and rocking personal stories that make women fall in love with us. They all think we’re tortured souls and in need of companionship. Little do they know that Liam has only written about one woman. Hell, even I didn’t know about it until he upped and left Los Angeles for the quiet, mundane life of Beaumont.
I can’t blame him. I’ve done the same thing. This is the best place to raise Quinn. He’ll go to school with Noah, and when Liam and I have a gig, Josie will take care of him. She’s really filled the role of mother for Quinn and for that, I will forever be thankful to her. That and she gave my best friend a whole new life and we’ve since had a string of number one hits, putting us back at the top of the charts.
Now, if I could just get the one I’m infatuated with to just look in my direction. I’m firmly stuck in the friend category, though, and I don’t know how to get out of it. I’m afraid to tell her how I feel because the look on her face will break me. I know she doesn’t want me the way I want her, and I’d rather be her friend then not have her in my life at all.
I put my ear buds back in to try this one more time. I picture the things I want to do to her. The way I want to hold her. How I want to be the one she comes home to at night. Be the one that she turns to when she needs consoling on the anniversary of her husband’s death. I want to be the one that the twins need when someone dares to break their hearts.
Imagining a life with her is as easy as breathing. I just have to find a way to make it happen without putting too much pressure on her. I hope that time is my friend and that someday she’ll look in my direction and realize I’m someone she can trust to take care of her. That she’ll know I’d never hurt her or the girls. That she will see me for me and know that Quinn and I would fit perfectly into her life.
I push away from the desk and head to my drums, bringing my laptop with me. I need to pound out some anger and frustration and maybe something will transpire that is usable. I close my eyes and let my sticks guide me. My beat starts off hard and steady. I’m beating the drums in front of me, releasing this pent up energy.