She squeezed my hand. “What about you. Are you close to your parents?”
I guess I wasn’t prepared for her to turn the conversation on me, and I sucked in a breath before I turned my gaze to a spot on the ground, trying to gather myself. To find an answer to give her that wouldn’t be a lie.
Just a bit of the truth.
“I used to be.”
I stared at her fingers, fiddling with them as I spoke. “We were really close. Like yours, my mom worked a lot, but our dad was there, working just as hard.”
A pained chuckle knocked loose from somewhere in my chest. “Mark and I…we kind of ran wild. We were boys, so I don’t think our parents worried about us quite as much. Figured as long as we were outside and not starting fires, we were free to run around and tear up the countryside.”
Her smile was gentle with encouragement. “Why do I get the feeling you two started a few fires?”
I choked on a laugh. “Oh yeah, we started a few fires.”
Wistfulness tweaked the corner of my mouth. “Mark was five years older than me. You’d think he’d try to get rid of me…think I was a nuisance. But he always wanted me right there at his side.”
Sympathy swept across her features. She brushed her fingers across the star on the back of my hand, and I trembled. “I’m so sorry you lost him. He sounds amazing.”
Emotion clotted my throat, words thick. “He was. He was my best friend.”
Blinking back tears, she averted her gaze. When she looked back, she wasn’t looking at me. She was looking in me. “And now…are you still close with your parents?”
I scratched at my beard, trying to keep it together. “Don’t see them all that much. It’s difficult…going over there after Mark. It’s like there’s this void in them that I feel responsible to fill, and I know that won’t ever be possible.”
A frown edged between her eyes. “But I thought you said you settled here since it was near your parents?”
But that was the thing. I was always just on the outside, watching in on the good things of my life and never being able to quite take part.
“Not sure I’m that good for them.”
She leaned over the table, coming closer. “How could you not be good for them, Zee? I bet they miss you terribly.”
The waitress showed with our food. Alexis sat back, and I did the same. But it didn’t matter. I could feel that connection all the same. This girl’s spirit pulling and tugging and demanding all the things I couldn’t give.
I was beginning to think there wasn’t anything I could do to stop it.
“Thank you for lunch. It was delicious.”
“I dare you to tell me you’ve tasted better cheesecake.”
Walking beside me, she shot me a smirk. Pure flirt with a dash of sex. “You haven’t tasted my cheesecake.”
I nearly buckled over. A shot of lust straight to the gut. “Woman, don’t tease me.”
“Hey, you dared me. It seems with you I’m always up for the challenge.”
That was it, I needed to touch. My hand went straight to that sweet spot at the base of her spine, fingers splaying wide in hopes of copping a feel of her delicious ass. We were both smiling when I pulled open the door and guided her out and into the afternoon sun.
We chatted quietly as I led her to my car that was parallel parked at the curb. I opened the passenger door for her, helped her in, and closed it when I heard the gasp, the telltale vibe that suddenly radiated from someone who had stumbled to a stop three feet away from me.
“Oh my God…it’s you…you’re Zee Kennedy, the drummer. Oh God. I seriously can’t believe it. This is crazy. My friends are never gonna believe it. Can I get a picture…and…and…um…can you sign this?”
A girl who couldn’t have been older than fifteen shoved her backpack at me as she stood there stammering.
While I stood there floundering.
A flood of panic surged through my being. Saturating every cell. Overpowering. I tried to blink, to focus, to hear through the sudden ringing in my ears.
You idiot.
You fucking idiot.
I swallowed, barely able to hold the marker she’d pulled from her backpack. I scribbled my autograph across the front pocket.
My smile was nothing less than a grimace when I leaned down close enough so she could snatch a selfie of us.
At least I had enough sense to make sure it was angled the opposite direction of my car.
“It was nice to meet you,” I mumbled the second she clicked, not stopping to let her say another word as I raced around to the driver’s side, breaths labored and my heart this manic thunder of dread.
I turned over the ignition and slammed it in gear, at the same second gunning the accelerator and taking to the street like doing so might stand the chance of letting me leave all these foolish mistakes behind.
I pounded the heel of my hand on the steering wheel, my teeth clenched as I fought the nausea threatening to rise in my gut.
What were you thinking?
Discomfort pressed and pulsed, laying siege to that energy that refused to let go. That energy that’d gone dark and ominous, filled with questions and confusion, this throbbing chaos of outright hurt and grief.
I weaved through traffic like I was some kind of madman, swerving as I changed lanes, car skidding as I took too sharp of turns.
I slammed on the brakes in front of her house.
Not a single word had been uttered the entire ride home, and that bottled silence echoed back, somehow amplified by the rumbling idle of the engine.
Alexis reached out a trembling hand and set it on my forearm. “You’re upset that girl recognized you?” I could feel the hurt riding on her question.
I made the mistake of looking at her. At the girl who’d done her best to ruin me in the best of ways, heart and body and mind.
All that white, shiny hair falling around her face.
So fucking pretty.
Stunning, inside and out.
Angel.
“Tell me what happened back there,” she demanded, her voice cracking on the emotion that ran heavy in the air. “Why you’re so upset about it. Please.”
My jaw ticked in anger. Anger directed entirely at myself. I could feel it bursting, busting out at the seams.
“You want to know what happened back there, Alexis? That was me, making mistake after mistake. That was me fucking everything up. That was me, disregarding the things I need to protect most. Just like I told you I would.”
Confusion shook her head, lines pinched between her eyes. “What does that mean?”
My skin itched, this feeling crawling over me like a dirty rash. Sickness sinking in as memories flashed.
Too vibrant. Too close. Too much.
“He’s gone, man…he’s fucking gone.”
Disbelief. Horror. Grief.
I fell to my knees, couldn’t breathe. I gripped my head in my hands as I wept.
What did I do? What did I do?
“It means I can’t do this. This was a mistake.” It flew out harder than it should have. This hatred I couldn’t contain.