the shit out of me. Possibly more than Chris scares him. Just the thought of Adam with another girl makes me want to wrap my arms and legs around him and never let go, or drop everything and go with him.
I don’t want to stop kissing him, but he starts to chuckle so I finally loosen my grip on his shirt and he breaks the kiss.
“I’m not going to war. I’m going to Hawaii.”
“That’s not funny. I’m really scared.”
“Why? You don’t think I’m going to cheat on you, do you?”
“No, but it’s not you I’m worried about.” I stare at the wrinkles in the front of his T-shirt where my fingers were just clenched tightly, grasping for my lifeline. “Adam, I don’t think I’ve made it clear enough. I was drowning when I met you. I was barely breathing until you saved me. I’m afraid of what will happen to me without you here.”
The muscles in his jaw twitch as he clenches his teeth to hold back whatever emotion he’s feeling. I don’t want him to hold back. This is our last day together. I want to see everything he’s feeling.
“Talk to me,” I beg.
He blinks his eyes a few times before he wraps his arms around my shoulders. He kisses the top of my head as he squeezes me tightly. I bury my face in his chest and he finally speaks.
“I will never let anything happen to you as long as you’re mine. You know that, don’t you?”
I nod as I close my eyes and breathe in his scent and his warmth. “I know.”
“But I want you to know that if you ever feel like you need me to come back, for any reason, that I’ll hop on the next plane. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you never drown again.” He grabs my face and forces me to look him in the eye. “You put some kind of love spell on me with your wicked dance moves and now I need you like Paula Deen needs butter, or insulin, or whatever.” I laugh and he kisses the tip of my nose. “I’m going to miss the fuck out of you, but I promise this is going to be worth it. Do you believe me?”
I grab his hands to pull them away from my face and he looks disappointed. “I believe you, but I’m still scared.”
He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet. He slips a wad of cash out and attempts to hand it to me.
“I don’t want that.”
“I know you don’t want it, but you need it.”
He tries to force the money into my hand. I wrench my hand away then stuff both my hands behind my back.
“I’m not taking it.”
“Please take it, Claire. It would make me feel better if I knew I didn’t have to worry about you, at least not for another few weeks while you look for a job. I’ll send you more later.”
“I’m dead serious. I don’t want your money.”
“Why? You can take a fucking car from Senia, but you can’t take a few hundred bucks from me?”
“It’s not the same.”
“Why? Because it’s me? Would you take it if it were Chris?”
“Please don’t start with that.”
Adam has only made one other negative comment about Chris, three weeks ago when we got in a fight over the fact that Chris texted me while Adam and I were hanging out in my dorm—well, we were doing a little more than hanging out. That’s why I erased all of Chris’s texts from my phone when Senia told me what happened between her and Eddie. Adam and I have been straddling the line between crazy in love and Crazy Town ever since everything blew up at Chris’s concert five weeks ago. I’m not surprised that the stress of this impending separation has brought on another Chris accusation, but I’m also not in the mood for it.
He shakes his head as he takes a step back and my heart stops as a van swerves to avoid hitting him.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
He steps forward again and glares down at me. “All right. I’m just going to come right out and say this because I need to say it before I leave.”
I hold my breath as I wait for whatever he’s about to get off his chest.
“I don’t like that you’re spending so much time with him. I don’t trust him.”
I can’t believe he’s doing this now. Actually, I can’t believe he’s doing this at all. He knows the only reason I’ve seen Chris three times in the last five weeks is for the purpose of the open adoption. Is he actually trying to make me feel guilty for that?
“Are you saying you don’t want me to see Chris anymore, ever?”
“No,” he insists, but the millisecond flash of hope I see in his eyes at this suggestion tells me that’s exactly what he wants. “I know you have to see him for the adoption stuff, but him showing up at your dorm to drop off pictures or outside your class to pick you up…. Why can’t you just drive your own car there? I just don’t fucking get it.”
I lean back against the car and gaze at the reflection of the blue sky on the side of the Raleigh Times high-rise building across the street. “I didn’t know you felt this way.”
“How could you not know?”
The incredulous look on his face makes me furious. “Because I don’t read minds.”
“Jesus Christ, Claire, I know you’ve only been in one relationship, but this is fucking common sense.”
“Are you saying I lack common sense?”
“Don’t do that. You know what I mean.” He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Let’s not do this today. I’m sorry I brought it up.”
He searches my face for a sign of agreement, but I’m fuming inside. I don’t even want to look at him.
“I shouldn’t have come here. Everything was fine before we left the dorm.”
He grabs the sides of my waist as his legs straddle mine and I can tell he’s getting ready to kiss me.
“Stop.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
He lets go of my waist and steps sideways so he’s no longer straddling my legs. “Whatever you say, Claire.” He pauses for a moment and I know this argument has gone too far. “Maybe we should just take a break.”
I let out a soft chuckle. “I can’t believe you.”
“You can’t believe me? You can’t even look at me.”
I turn and look him straight in the eye. “I don’t want to take a break, but I also don’t want to feel like I can’t hang out with one of my best friends because you’re afraid of something that’s never going to happen. Chris and I are over. I thought I made that perfectly clear.”
A blue hatchback pulls up next to us and Lena is in the passenger seat. She’s smiling until she sees the serious expressions on our faces. Yuri leans over her and shoves the trophy through the open passenger-side window.
“Dude, we got tired of waiting for you in the car,” he says as Adam grabs the trophy.
Adam sticks his hand through the window to do a little secret handshake with Yuri.
“Thanks, man. I’ll see you on Koki Beach.”
“I’ll be there, bro,” Yuri says before he takes off down Wilmington.
Koki Beach. They had this all planned out, but I just found out about it this morning.
“All right,” he begins. “You do what you have to do and I’ll do the same. I know you would never do anything to hurt me, intentionally. And I hope you know I won’t do anything to hurt you, even unintentionally. You have my word on that.”
I’m so annoyed that I can’t even be more annoyed by that intentionally remark. “You already hurt me by keeping this from me until this morning, even if it was unintentional. You’re no angel, Adam, so please stop making me out to be the devil in this relationship.”
He sets the trophy on the pavement at his feet and it’s so tall it almost reaches his hip. Third place in his first competition. This is not the first time he’s going to leave me.
“You’re right,” he replies. “I apologize. I never should have said that. And I can’t keep you from having a relationship with Chris. Whatever works for you two works for me, as long as it doesn’t infringe upon my boyfriend duties, if you know what I mean.”
I
smile reluctantly and he seizes the opportunity to grab my hand and plant a soft kiss on my palm. I step forward and throw my arms around his neck. He lifts me up and pins me against the car as I wrap my legs around his waist.
We hug like this for a few minutes in silence as I try unsuccessfully to fight the tears.
“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he whispers in my ear. “I’ll break all the rules to keep you.”
He leans his forehead against mine and my mouth stretches into the biggest, uncontrollable grin I’ve worn in a long time.
“I love that smile,” he murmurs as he leans in to kiss me.
Our lips haven’t touched yet when a car pulls up so close behind Adam that my heart stutters in my chest.
“Claire Nixon,” a voice calls out as Adam turns around to see who it is.
I see the black Porsche and I’m about ready to kill Chris, until I see Tristan sitting in the driver’s seat. Chris is on the passenger side calling my name.
“What the fuck!” Adam and I both shout at the same time.
“You almost hit him!” I shriek.
Tristan laughs, but Chris at least attempts to hold in his laughter. Before I can even process what’s happening, Adam is wrenching open the passenger side door and Chris’s eyes are locked on him as he steps out of the car and pushes Adam back.
Adam is only a couple of inches taller than Chris at six-foot-two-inches, but he’s solid as stone from years of surfing and training. I’m actually afraid for both Chris and Adam right now. Adam is still on probation for another six months. If he gets cited for anything, even something as minor as being a public nuisance, he’ll probably go straight to jail.
Adam lunges forward and swings at Chris’s face. The sound of his fist connecting with Chris’s jaw makes my stomach lurch. Chris falls backward toward the seat just as Tristan scrambles around the back of the Porsche and rushes Adam.
“Stop it!” I shout as Tristan and Adam roll around on the asphalt, fists and curse words flying in all directions.
Chris stands up from the passenger seat, rubbing his jaw, and I push him back before he can join in. “Get your fucking friend off of him!” I shriek.
He glares at me. “You should keep your boyfriend on a fucking leash!”
I step toward them to attempt to break it up, but Chris grabs my arm and pulls me back. He struggles for a few seconds to get a grip on Tristan’s arms, but he finally yanks him off and I immediately grab Adam as he gets to his feet.
“Get out of here before the cops come!” I whisper-shout at him. “Hurry up!”
His lip is bleeding and there’s a bloody scuff from where his cheek must have scraped the asphalt. I want to reach up and wipe the blood from his mouth, but a small part of me is afraid that if I try to touch him right now he’ll hit me. His chest is heaving and his hands are still balled up in fists as he glares at Tristan and Chris over my shoulder.
“Go!” I shout to break him out of his rage-trance.
Finally, he looks down at me, and the guilty look on his face kills me. “Fuck! I’m sorry.”
He kisses my forehead and takes off running toward where his car is parked down the street. I spin around and Tristan is laughing as he uses the front of his T-shirt to sop up the blood pouring out of his nostrils.
“You think that’s funny? What are you twelve?” I push him as hard as I can and he falls back against the Porsche.
He continues to laugh as he makes his way around the back of the Porsche to the driver’s side.
I round on Chris. “I never would have expected this from you.”
“I’m the one who stopped it!” he barks.
“After you started it!”
“I wasn’t driving the fucking car.”
I shake my head in disgust as I turn around and grab my purse off the top of my car. I’m shaking with rage as I pull my keys out of the purse and deactivate my car alarm. I look over my shoulder at Chris before I get inside.
“Don’t ever bring that asshole around me again.”
I take a few deep breaths as I drive down Wilmington. My phone rings as soon as I turn the corner.
“Adam? Where are you?”
“I just wanted to let you know that I’m fine and I’m really fucking sorry. I don’t know what got into me.”
Adam’s temper has always been simmering just below the surface. I’ve known this almost from the moment I met him. I’ve seen him trying so hard to keep it under control since all this stuff started happening with Chris. But I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t scare me.
“Claire?”
“You really scared me.”
The silence that follows is charged with all the implications behind these words. Is it what Adam did that scared me? Or is it him that had me so frightened I felt as if my heart was going to leap out of my chest? I’ve never seen him like that.
Yes, it was him that scared me.
“Man, I fucked up. I messed up our last day together.”
“Just call me when you get home tonight,” I say as I pull my car onto the highway.
“I will. And I am really, really fucking sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“I know. I’m just glad you’re all right.”
Chapter Eleven
Chris
THE HARSH SOUND OF THE hotel phone ringing startles me awake. My hand fumbles over the cool surface of the beside table until I find the phone and pick up the receiver.
“Housekeeping. When can we come to clean your room?”
A crack of sunlight shining through the curtains hits my face as I open my eyes sending a sharp pain slicing through the left side of my head. I blink a few times until the spots disappear and glance at the alarm clock on the table: 1:17 p.m.
“Never,” I mutter into the phone and hang up.
I turn over in the bed and my arm hits someone next to me. Fuck. I almost don’t want to look.
I haven’t gotten drunk enough to have a hangover in months, but all this shit with Claire and Abigail is bringing up feelings I thought I’d long since buried. It seems all the women in my life are determined to make my life more difficult.
Claire hasn’t returned any of my calls or texts since the incident in Raleigh. I even sent her an arrangement of her favorite flowers, daisies, with an apology note, but she’s still ignoring me. I texted her last night before the show to tell her I have some news on the adoption, certain that this would elicit a response, but she still hasn’t responded.
I turn my head to glimpse my bed buddy and find Tristan Pollock, my bass guitarist and best friend since seventh grade, knocked out with his hair covering most of his face. Tristan and I had a falling out when I took the solo deal last year, but we quickly made up when I insisted to have him play bass on the West Coast tour we did in the Spring. Now, all the old resentments are gone and I’m relieved to be waking up next to him.
I turn my head again to get a look at the other bed in the hotel room and I glimpse the back of Rachel’s head. Rachel and Jake, my drummer, have been together longer than Claire and I have known each other. She goes to every show with Jake. If I didn’t know her I would think it was because she was possessive as fuck. But the truth is that after seven years together, they still can’t get enough of each other. They’re inseparable—the way Claire and I used to be.
I grab my phone off the nightstand and check to see if there are any new messages. I scroll through the nine new texts I’ve received, but none of them are from Claire. I stare at the text I sent her last night and shake my head.
Me: Tasha gave me some new info. Come to my jam session on Saturday, I’ll fill you in. I want to apologize for being the world’s biggest douchebag.
I sit up in bed and my head immediately starts pounding to the beat of my heart. It’s the same beat I’ve used to write a million songs about Claire, and this is where it’s gotten me. I should just fucking quit already. I could get used to playing local clubs to pay the bills. I’d even get a regular
job if that’s what it took to get Claire back.
I sling my legs over the side of the bed and the first thing I want to do is text her. I went more than twelve months without sending her a single text and now it’s the first and last thing I want to do every day. It’s funny that when the one person you live for is ripped out of your life you can still find a way to convince yourself it’s for the best and that you will eventually get over it.
What a joke.
Xander, my manager, set up the show we played last night in D.C. as part of this surprise tour we’ve been on for the past five weeks and I’m starting to get really fucking annoyed. Last night’s show on the mall was insane and way more packed than I expected. I don’t remember how or when I got back to the hotel room, but I do remember feeling like my life, not just my vision, was spinning out of control.
I stand up and make my way to the restroom, but Jake calls my name before I make it there.
“What?” I call back.
“I have to go first. I’m gonna puke.”
He tumbles off the bed and rushes past me into the bathroom. I barely catch a glimpse of his dark scruffy hair and man-beard before he slams the door closed behind him. The door doesn’t do a good job of drowning out the sounds of his retching.
“God, what a fuckin’ lightweight.” Rachel’s voice is raspy. She’s probably parched as hell from whatever the fuck we did last night.
I haven’t lost time from too much alcohol in a long time. It’s a scary feeling, not knowing what—or who—you did the night before. It appears as if I didn’t do anything or anyone I’d regret, but I have enough regrets accumulated from all the things I have and haven’t done this past year. Waking up next to Tristan today can’t erase all the shit that’s happened since I left Claire.
I take a seat at the desk in the hotel room and grab the pen and pad of paper bearing the hotel logo. It’s a habit. Anytime I see a pen and paper I have to write something, lyrics or notes, or nonsense. I write what comes to mind and I’ve come up with the beginnings of some good songs that way. I pull the cap off the pen with my teeth, press the pen to the paper, and write.
Dear Claire,
Remember the time you caught me changing in my bedroom before we got together? Remember that embarrassment? That longing? I feel it every fucking day. Leaving you was the stupidest mistake I’ve ever made.
I tear the sheet of paper off the pad and I’m about to crumple it up when Rachel snatches it out of my hand.
“Don’t fuck with me right now. I’ve got the mother of all hangovers.”
She ignores me as she reads the note to herself then hands it back to me. “You’re an idiot. You can write a fucking song and a note, but you can’t actually do anything.”
“Of course I can’t do anything. She has a fucking boyfriend.”
“Do you expect her to just magically want to get back together with you? Earth to Chris, girls want to be pursued. Playing hard to get only works in new relationships. You’ve known Claire too long for those games to work on her.”
I roll my eyes as I lean back in the desk chair. “You don’t understand. Claire thinks she’s in love with this guy. If I try to, as you say, pursue her, she’ll think I’m trying to fuck things up for her.”