Reckless Abandon (6 page)

“Bo. Stop. We can’t do this. You hurt me. And, now, I’m kind of your employee. We can’t go back. I just came here to tell you I’m fine. I’m ready to work with you, but only if you’re ready to work with me. What happened two weeks ago was a fling and we both could have gotten into a lot of trouble for it. I hope sometime we can sit down and really go through everything that happened, but today’s not the day.” I push my chair back from the table.

I actually believe the words I’m saying, and that scares me. It scares him, too, judging by the white pallor that’s overcome him.

“November, wait.” He follows quickly behind me as I make my way through the diner. When I open the door, he reaches in front of me and pulls it shut; the loud jingle of the bells forces gazes in our direction. Bo leans forward until his mouth is an inch from my ear. “I’m not going to stop trying to make this right,” is all he whispers before opening the door again and releasing me into the humid Concord air.

I turn back to look at him. I stare for a second too long; my memory feels his hands on pieces of my soul that no one else has touched. I part my lips to say something before realizing there is nothing I can say—sometimes when you fall head over heels in love you end up with a concussion. I force a well-meaning smile before turning back around and heading for Monica’s car.

* * *

Once back on the road, Monica gives me about a minute and a half before launching in.

“Go ahead,” she states, as if I’ve asked her permission to discuss what happened in the diner.

“That...did
not
go as planned, per se. He said he wasn’t going to stop making “this” right ...”

“You two haven’t talked about that night at all?” She takes her eyes away from the road to give me an accusing look.

“Not really. I’m not sure what it is that he could say. He admitted in the hotel that he knew it was me and basically panicked—didn’t say anything until I was attacked and he was forced to.” I try to force a strong tone through that line, but it doesn’t work. I rest my head against the window in frustration.

“I’m sorry, Em. But we haven’t really talked about it ...” Monica reaches across the car and puts her hand on my knee.

“I just don’t know why in the hell he wouldn’t say anything.”

“What would you have done if he did?” She resumes a two-handed grip on the steering wheel.
 

I hadn’t considered that
. “I don’t know...I mean how hard would it have been for him to share the revelation as soon as he had it? Like ‘Oh holy shit,
that was yo
u
?
Listen—‘ and tell me the story.”

“No, I get it. It’s just bullshit. I really liked him for you. I’m sorry, November.” Monica rarely calls me November.

“I know you are. I’m just glad Josh has this house band thing lined up to help me take my mind off of everything. Adrian’s going to come to the show tomorrow.” I don’t really know why I’m smiling, but it feels good.

“Mmhmm ...”

“What?”

“Just watch your ass with him, OK? The end of that relationship did a number on you—”

“Give it a rest, Monica,” I sigh.

Her sideways glance says more about her feelings than her silence does.

* * *

“Ember, I’m glad you came!” Josh jumps off the stage and greets me with a hug.

Things are better than normal between him and Monica. The two-day separation is never discussed, and their beautiful love story has resumed.

“Of course I’d come, this is a great idea!”

“Where’s your guitar?” Josh asks as we head up on stage.

I give him a cautious smile. “Funny. Unless you were planning on having us play the single song I know, my guitar playing is out of the question without lessons. Do you want to teach me?”

He slaps my back. “Of course I’ll teach you, November. What’s taken you so long to ask?”

Josh and I go over the playlist for tomorrow with C.J., the drummer. C.J.’s our age and has lived in Barnstable since he was ten. When he holds a pair of sticks it’s pure magic. With hands and abs like his, he could have any girl that graces this bar. I think he does, too—one night at a time, anyway.

“Josh, did you tell November about my cousin?” C.J. asks as he moves parts of his drum set around.

Josh turns to me with giddy hope in his eyes. “C.J.’s cousin, Regan, lives in Ireland. He’s flying in tomorrow to spend the summer here. He plays the fiddle like nothing I’ve ever heard—we Skyped the other night.”

My eyebrows shoot up excitedly. “Really? Is he interested in playing with us?”

“Yeah, Rapunzel, he is. That’s why we’re talking about it.” C.J. shakes his head. He’s called me ‘Rapunzel’ since we met last winter and I don’t know why. I think it has something to do with my hair, but who knows? I hate it. He knows that. He’s a bit of an ass—as any good drummer is, I suppose.

“Call me that again and I’ll send you on a self-guided cavity search for your sticks.” I throw his sticks at him.

“Guys, let’s not have ‘Behind the Music’ drama on our first night, K? Let’s play.” Josh teases as he takes his seat on the stool and starts strumming his guitar.

It’s the first time I’ve heard a guitar since the night Bo and I played together on stage. I feel my brow furrow for a second before I discard the memory. Music was in my bones long before Bo Cavanaugh, and I won’t let one fracture ruin it for me.

We go through a few Sheryl Crow, The Script, and The Avett Brothers songs before calling it a night. C.J. and Josh have played together for years, and I know all the lyrics to the songs we sing. It seems like it’s a good fit. When C.J. leaves, and Josh and I are alone in Finnegan’s, the awkward silence takes its toll on me.

“It’s OK to talk about it, Josh,” I offer.

“I don’t really know what to say. I’m sorry.” Josh hands me a beer and we sit on the stage, our legs dangling over the edge.

“I just want you to know it’s fine. Bo and I just went way too fast and ignored important things. We just got...wrapped up. He’s my superior now, lines are clearly drawn, and we can each move on.” Each time I say it, I’m reminded of its truth.

Josh puts his arm around my shoulders. “I think you’re right, about it moving too fast. That was fucking intense with you two—” he cuts himself off as the main door opens. Just as he’s about to launch into his “Hello, we’re closed!” speech, in walks Adrian.

“Adrian?” I slide off the stage and walk toward him.

“Hey you.” He smiles bro
adly and pulls me in for a hug. 
Mm
m
..

“What are you doing here? I thought you were coming down tomorrow.” My mile-wide grin doesn’t shock me. Things feel so comfortable with him, so easy.

“I have some time and didn’t want to wait till tomorrow to see you.” As we pull away from our hug, he slides his hand down my arm and brushes my fingertips.

“I’ve got to finish cleaning up with Josh, I’ll be out in a minute.” I turn and walk back to the stage, noting the question on Josh’s face.

“I’ll wait outside for you. Nice to see you, Josh,” Adrian says as he exits the bar.

As soon as the door clicks, Josh’s eyes nearly bug out of his head.

“Shut up, Josh. It’s just Adrian.”

Just Adrian ...

“What’s with the hugging and hand holding and all of that?” Damn Josh, he’s not afraid to just get right in there and ask what every other guy might be thinking.

“I don’t know.” I don’t really know what I’m doing. I don’t know why being around Adrian
feels good. “Don’t you
dare
say a thing to Monica about this.” I never keep secrets from Monica, but I don’t know yet if Adrian is a secret.

Josh puts his hands up in mock-defense.
“Your secret is safe with me…
Rapunzel
.” I punch him in the arm as he laughs.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. What time should I be here?”

“Seven’s good. We can get some last minute practice in before the masses descend.” He winks and gives me another pat on the shoulder as he locks the door behind us and heads to his car.

I turn my attention to Adrian, who parked his BMW next to my Outback. He’s leaning his side against his car, with his hands casually in his khaki shorts’ pockets. How he always pulls off looking like a model is beyond me, but I’ll take it.

“So, what do you want to do after driving all this way?” I try to make my grin match his as I lean against my driver’s side door.

“I just want to hang out with you. We spent so much time together last week that it was weird not seeing you at all this week.”

“I don’t think I properly thanked you for last week.” I step toward him, and he removes his hands from his pockets. “It was really comforting having you around. You didn’t ask me any questions, didn’t hound me about how I was feeling ...” I take another step toward him, wrap my arms around his neck, and set my chin on his shoulder.

He tightens his arms around my waist. “You don’t need to thank me. I’d do it again in a heartbeat, Blue.”

“Let’s go hang out at my place for a while, I’ve got plenty to eat and drink.” I pull back and suddenly find myself resisting the urge to kiss him. I visualize his tempting lips on mine and my breath yields. He presses his hands into my back and pulls me in tighter, kissing the top of my head.

His voice is deep and smooth. “Your place sounds great.”

Taking a deep breath, I get into my car, begging my libido to get a grip as I click my seatbelt into place. I don’t feel as off-balance as I think I should with all of the physical stuff happening between Adrian and me. Sure, it’s only been a hand-hold here, and a peck there, but I want more. And there’s been more before. We know each other, we’ve been there, but now we’re older—we’re adults. When everything went down with Bo in Concord, Adrian didn’t get in his face or kick his ass; he was there for
me
and gave me what I needed.

When we pull up to my apartment, my libid
o buries itself at the sight of
the
station wagon parked in my space. Adrian shuts his door at the same time as me and cautiously approaches, as I stand with my hand on my hip.

“What’s up?” he asks

I gesture to the relic. “My grace period is over. Raven and Ashby are here.”

“What do you mean ‘grace period’? You didn’t talk to them this week?” Adrian knows I didn’t speak to my parents the few days he was at my house.

“No...I’ve been busy.” I shrug.

Adrian laughs. “Well, sweetheart, it’s time to face the music.” He takes my hand and leads me upstairs, where my parents are waiting inside my apartment.

Chapter Six

“See what happens when I give you people a key? You abuse the privilege,” I start as I open the door.

“Well, baby girl,” Ashby replies, “you can’t go through something like that and expect us not to care. I was ho-- Adrian?” My dad’s stern eyes soften as he looks over my shoulder.

“Hello, Mr. Harris, Mrs. Harris.” Without missing a beat, Adrian crosses the living room to shake my father’s hand before kissing my mother on the cheek.”

Damn, he’s smooth.

Raven blushes. “Adrian, it’s great to see you. How have you been? Thank you so much for being here for November the last couple of weeks.” When she finally stops rambling, she sits and pats her hand next to her for Adrian to join. My parents loved Adrian when we were together in college, which always struck me as odd since he’s so different from me; but we seemed to make sense—even to the hippies.

Adrian sits and puts his forearms on his thighs. “You know I’d help her no matter what. I was in the right place at the right time.” Seeming to sense my parents’ questions on the tips of their tongues, Adrian continues, “Em, I’m gonna run to pick up our pizza, I’ll be back in a few. Mr. and Mrs. Harris, in case you’re not here when I get back, it was great seeing you. I hope to see you again soon.” We didn’t order pizza. He wants my parents and me to have time to talk in private.

“Please, Adrian, call us by our names.” Ashby breaks his stunned silence and shakes Adrian’s hand once more.

As soon as Adrian’s car pulls away from the curb, I offer my defense.

“I’m sorry I haven’t called you guys. This week I got back to work, and today we had our meeting in Concord.”             

“Your what?” Ashby asks.

“Ash, my organization is still collaborating with Bo’s. I’m a grant writer; I’ve got a job to do.” I plunk down next to my mom, who starts absentmindedly playing with the ends of my hair.

“Can you back up and tell us what happened?” Raven chimes in innocently.

I tell them about my time in Concord and how it ended. My dad starts wringing his hands when I tell them about Bill coming after me, and me falling flat on my face in front of Adrian on the sidewalk. I reference my conversation today with Monica, and am honest when I say I don’t know how I would have handled it
had
Bo told me everything earlier on, but remind them that it’s a moot point.