As usual, our conversation is formal and very matter-of-fact. She’s not a warm and fuzzy person.
“So, how was NYU?” Her voice has an undertone of concern.
“They have a great psychology department, and one of the professors I talked to is from Dallas. It would be like a little bit of home.” I hold my breath. “I’d like to go to NYU.”
She shakes her head. “I want you to stay close by. The baby will be here soon—don’t you want to be here? I might need the help on the weekends.”
She won’t need my help. I’ve already overheard her and Robert discussing hiring a nanny. “I could come home for the holidays.”
She sends me a look—you know the one, like I should have known the answer before I even asked. “It pains me to even hear you talk that way.” She pats my leg. “Let’s put a pin in the NYU thing for a while, okay? See how things go next year?”
She’s patronizing me, and I stiffen. “I can always pay for it myself,” I say. “I’m working three nights a week at Jo’s.” Jo’s is a local diner where I’ve waited tables since last August. I like working because it makes me feel like I have a purpose. Anne didn’t approve of my decision to work, but I’d insisted. She would have preferred for me to work at the country club or at one of the boutiques in town, but that wasn’t me.
She frowns and rubs her belly. “That’s ridiculous. You won’t make NYU tuition money at the diner. Plus, you’re too late to even apply for this year.”
I exhale. Obviously, Robert and Anne have the money to send me to NYU—Winston is just as pricey—she just doesn’t want me to go because she likes having me around to control. And because she’s done so much for me already, I hate to ask her for anything she doesn’t want to give me. Maybe the new baby will change her.
But still . . .
This NYU thing . . .
I can’t let it go forever . . . but I can let it go for right now.
Anne’s voice pulls me back. She’s rising up from the couch, and I presume she’s headed to bed. She walks over to me, her eyes searching. “Also, I noticed that you stared at Spider a lot during dinner. I want you to be polite to him, but he has a history of drug use, and, of course, he’s into his music. You know what kind of lifestyle those types have.”
I sigh, annoyed with her. Again. Sometimes it feels like Anne is the child and I’m the adult. “Spider’s okay. I like him.”
She arches her brows. “Just don’t like him too much.”
“Yes ma’am.”
I don’t tell her that it’s too late.
Spider
I RUN.
I run until I can’t fucking breathe and my chest hurts.
Sweaty and tired, I stop in a nearby park with plenty of streetlights to catch my breath. My head is full of my father, his new wife, and Rose.
Everything inside me feels upside down from my crazy day. I scrub my face. Sometimes exercising keeps the cravings at bay, but right now, it’s not working.
I need something hard to chase everything away.
Exhausted, I park my arse on a bench and make a plan for the evening. I could go back to the house for the night, but for some reason I’m scared and it has a lot to do with Rose. I need to stay away from her. Even though I barely know her, she’s somehow managed to get under my skin.
I heave out a long exhale, feeling alone. They’re back at the house laughing and playing Scrabble. They’re a family, and I don’t fit in.
I change directions and think about our band and how we’ve been on the road for the past several months, hitting bars and small music halls all over the US. We’ve done well to not have a record label. It’s not crazy money, but it’s enough to push us into finding a permanent residence in LA, somewhere to put down roots. Sebastian’s from there and he knows a couple of record producers he wants to work with. He’s the only family I really have . . .
Which brings me back to the Scrabble game.
Fuck. I really don’t want to go back to that mansion. After some thinking, I decide to pick up my clothes and guitar tomorrow. I call an Uber to take me to The Galleria to shop for the basics: jeans, some random shirts, a pair of leather flip-flops, and underwear. After my shopping, I haul ass to the penthouse and shower.
An hour later, I’m sitting at a bar in Uptown. I order a shot of tequila just as a curvy brunette walks up to me. She reminds me of Rose with her long hair, but she has that rich girl vibe about her that I recognize from a mile away—petulant face, expensive purse, and bought boobs.
She says her name is Kirsten, and I buy her a drink. Hell, I buy her several drinks.
We sneak off to the bathroom and I pull her in a stall where we do a line together and she sucks me off. Later, I throw myself around on the dance floor to some techno music shit that I usually hate. I feel fucking amazing. Life is good. I can handle anything with a drink, a girl, and some coke.
An hour later, we’re tossing back more drinks when she whispers in my ear, her hands rubbing down my chest. “My car’s just outside and my condo is a mile from here. You wanna take this party there?”
I smile down at her.
I don’t even pause. “Indeed.”
She stands on her tiptoes to kiss me, but I avoid her lips with a quick turn of my face.
Rose pops into my head, with her wide green eyes and the way she gets me. She knows what a poser I am—that I have a fucking defense mechanism of all things.
I have to forget her.
“Let’s leave,” I say to the girl.
I pay the check, and we get in her white Lexus. She drives us, even though she’s probably drunk. Streetlights flash by as I rest back against the leather interior.
“You from Dallas?” the girl asks me, and I realize we barely exchanged personal information past our names.
I grunt an affirmation, not wanting to talk to her. Dallas just reminds me that my father is starting all over with a new family when he was never really my family.
We park and I make it all the way to her door before I start getting hot, and not in a good way. I feel like I might be sick. The air thins and I gasp in air.
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
Fuck, what was her name again?
She puts a hand on my shoulder and I jerk back. My stomach churns at the thought of rolling around with her in a bed that isn’t mine. Sure, it feels good and makes me forget, but I always feel empty later.
Fuck. I feel empty already.
My high is gone and I’m crashing.
Just go in there and do her.
You’ll feel better.
You’ll forget what a disappointment you are to your father.
You’ll forget Rose.
She wraps a hand around my bicep and squeezes. “Hey, baby, don’t be shy. Let me make you feel good.”
I stare down at her. Her eyes are blue when what I really want is green.
I back away from her.
“Where you going?” Her face is confused.
“I don’t know, probably to hell,” I mutter then take off at a run, descending the steps in the stairwell two at a time.
Rose