Deep (6 page)

Anyhoo, the point is, the books were big on weird facts about animals getting it on but short on the particulars regarding the type of love or lust at first sight that was plaguing my every waking moment—and a good majority of my nonwaking moments too.

Christy’s new roommate, Imelda, glared at me over the edge of her bright blue drink. Lord knows what was in there to make it that color. I’d only moved into Anne’s old apartment two weeks ago. Apparently, however, these two had already bonded to the point of creepy possessiveness.

The bar had been Imelda’s choice.

“Chris says you know the guys from Stage Dive,” she said.

My ex-roommate shifted nervously.

I just shrugged. Photos of Anne and Mal together had done the rounds of the Internet a couple of times. It was pretty much an open secret in Portland these days. Though me talking about my sister’s business didn’t need to happen. Ever. And Christy was well aware of that policy.

“I think it’s bullshit,” the girl continued, standing so close her hot breath hit my ear.

I resisted the urge to recoil. “Think what you like.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“Why don’t we dance?” Christy suggested, sounding as fake peppy as could be. “Quick, drink up!”

We did as told. Then, all of a sudden, Imelda was all hands up in the air waving them about without a care. She snagged Christy’s hand and started dragging her through the crowd. Christy in turn caught my wrist, towing me along. Alrighty then. Our progression through the throng was not gentle. Elbows and assorted other body bits bumped into me, sending me reeling this way and that. A hand grabbed my ass.

“Hey!” I growled, spinning around. In the dark sea of people surrounding us it could have been anyone. “Asshole.”

When I turned back, Christy and her new BF had disappeared. Strobe lights blinded me. I could barely see for shit. Crowds have always made me nervy, and this place was a crush. It wasn’t a phobia, exactly, just a distinct dislike I’d been working hard on overcoming.

Surely Christy would realize she’d lost me and come back. Surely. Waiting. Still waiting. Some chick trod good and hard on my toe, bringing actual tears to my eyes. I tried to hop on one foot to give the other a rub and almost landed on my butt in the process. Yeah, Christy wasn’t coming back. Furthermore, I might have never loved crowds, but right now I was deep in the land of hate.

God, screw this.

It was ridiculous. I was a hairsbreadth away from being twenty-one and over the whole scene already. Guess I’d just go back to my lonely girl apartment. As nice as it was to have some space, I’d never actually lived on my own before. I wasn’t lonely, exactly, it was just that the absence of other people made for a definite adjustment. Bet Ben and Lena were getting on like a house on fire. How could they not, what with Lena being all funny and gorgeous and Ben being Ben.

Another body in the near-dark knocked into me, sending me staggering sideways. Since when did you need to wear full body armor to be in a bar? Perhaps I should head back to the bar, where we’d been standing before. But surely I was better staying here, where Christy last saw me. I looked back and forth in indecision. Neither option appealed. Hell, being here no longer appealed.

I blinked furiously. Not crying, just … you know, my toe stung.

It might be time to go catch a cab. I’m pretty sure at home I had all of the ingredients required for emergency mood-enhancing nachos. The bonus being not having to share it with anyone. Call me greedy, I don’t care, and bring on the melted cheese, baby.

Suddenly, two huge hands descended upon my shoulders and I was forcibly turned around. Some sort of mountain stood before me. A man mountain.

“Ben!” I cried happily, throwing myself at him (which of course didn’t move the man an inch). His big hot body felt divine, heavenly. I wrapped my arms tight around his waist and clung ever so slightly. “I’m so glad to see you.”

His hands tensed on my shoulders, fingers rubbing. “I told you not to come in here.”

“I know.” I sniffed, then set my chin on his chest and gazed up adoringly at him. “But have you noticed how I actually make my own choices like a real live adult?”

“You don’t say?” He gave me a dour look and tucked an errant strand of hair behind my ear. Such a simple, sweet move; it worked for me big-time. Of course, anything involving him touching me would.

“How was your date with Lena?”

No reply.

“That good, huh? Oh well.”

“I can see you’re real cut up about it,” he said with a smile.

“Yeah. The pain goes deep. It’s really good to see you.”

He looked at me for a long moment. “Yeah, you too. Still, kinda pissed you came in here, though.”

What a silly statement. I gave him both brows up and
Oh really
in the eyes. Start out as you mean to go on and all that. Because at no stage would I be answering to the man for where I went and what I did. Trust and respect, etcetera.

He shrugged, unimpressed. “You didn’t like me going out with Lena. I didn’t like you coming here.”

“Both of these things are true,” I said, relenting just a little. “What are we going to do about them, though? That’s the question.”

“Hmm.” He grabbed hold of my hand, giving it a squeeze. “C’mon, I’ll drive you home.”

“I’d like that.”

Without another word he led me through the crowd, clearing the way with his body. In his plain jeans and plaid shirt, no one seemed to recognize him. In Portland, he was just one more bearded, tattooed dude among many. Attached to Ben, no one messed with me. I was neither bumped nor groped, thank god. Ah, togetherness. What a rare and beautiful thing. No wonder Anne was so wacky about Mal if this was how he made her feel. Walking beside Ben, my heart seemed so light I might hit my head on the ceiling.

“Later,” the very pierced bouncer said, opening the door to let us through.

“Thanks, Marc.”

Outside, the air was crisp, decidedly cool. I bundled myself up in my coat. Ben didn’t seem to have brought one. He just shoved his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders. A beaten-up Chevy truck, from the ’80s at best, sat at the corner. It might once have been pale blue. With all the fading and the couple of spots of rust, it was hard to say.

“This is your ride?” I asked, surprised.

In lieu of a response, Ben unlocked the passenger side door, holding it open.

“Huh.”

I climbed up and in, sitting carefully on the cold, cracked vinyl seating. Cassettes spilled out of the glove box. Actual cassettes. “Stunned” kind of fit the situation. The man had money, lots of it.

He swung the door shut, then strode around to the driver’s side. Soon enough the engine was roaring to life with minimal splutter. Clearly the car was kept in good condition.

“Expecting a Porsche?” he asked.

“No. Just something slightly less older than me.”

He snorted.

We pulled out into the traffic, the low hum of some old Pearl Jam song playing. Cassettes. Christ.

“It belonged to my grandfather,” he said. “He taught me how to fix it, handed over the keys when I got my license.”

“Nice.”

He gave me side eyes.

“I mean it, Ben. I didn’t have much in the way of family myself. So I get that’s nice.”

A faint smile. “Yeah. We didn’t have a lot of money so … I thought so.”

The shadows of his face were frankly fascinating beneath the passing street lights, the sudden brightness of oncoming traffic, everything. He had perfect cheekbones. You could almost miss them above the beard, but the lines of his face were both sharp and beautiful. His lips, for instance. I could have stared at them for hours.

“Will you tell me about your home?” I asked.

“Not much to tell,” he said, eventually. “Mom and Dad owned a cleaning business so they were gone most of the time. They were real hard workers. The business was everything to ’em. My grandparents lived next door and they fed us and kept an eye on things.”

“Must have been wonderful to have them around. A stable influence like that can mean all the difference to a kid.”

“You diagnosing me or something, Miss Psychology Student?”

“No. Sorry.” I groaned. “Please continue. You mentioned an ‘us’?”

“Me and my sister.”

“You have a sister? What’s she like?”

He squinted, little lines appearing beside his eyes. “Martha’s … Martha. She’s living over in New York these days, enjoys the party scene.”

“That’s pretty far.” I couldn’t imagine being on the opposite side of the country from Anne, living without my last bit of real family close by. “You must miss her.”

“It’s probably for the best,” he said. “She caused some shit a while back. I didn’t help much either.”

I stayed silent, waiting for him to go on. People usually would feel compelled to fill a silence, you just had to be patient.

“Martha and David went out all through high school, and after, when the band started to take off. Then she did something stupid.” He shook his head. “So fucking dumb.”

“What did she do?”

He raised a brow. “You haven’t heard?”

“No.”

“Huh. Thought Ev might have talked about it.”

“I’ve only met her a couple of times.”

“Yeah, I guess.” His fingers tapped out a beat against the steering wheel. “Martha didn’t like Dave being away so much. We were working hard, touring when we weren’t recording. Thought she understood.…”

A fire engine roared past with sirens blazing, distracting us for a moment.

“We were finally getting somewhere, really starting to make it, playing to bigger crowds, and getting some decent publicity.” He exhaled noisily. “Anyway, she must have figured with him being on the road all the time that he had to be messing around on her. She got pissed one night and cheated on him.”

“Oh.”

“Guy couldn’t have been more crazy in love with her if he tried. Never even saw him look at another woman. They’d been so tight for years. I tried to tell her, but she got this stupid idea into her head, and … yeah.” His low laugh was bitter, horrible to hear. “She took something beautiful and shit on it. Everything went to hell after that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too. Really thought they’d make it, get married, have kids and everything. Live the dream. She worked as an assistant for the band for a while, but when Dave and Ev got married she didn’t take it too well.”

“That’s when she moved?”

“That’s when she moved.” He said nothing for a moment. “Tried one last time to get him back, and I was stupid enough to help. It didn’t turn out so well. Things were tense between me and Dave for a while, and it wasn’t good for the band.”

“I’m sorry.” I took a big breath, choosing my words with care. This had obviously hurt him. It was in the tone of his voice, the shadows on his face. Also, I didn’t want to treat him like a patient or a subject. He mattered to me much deeper than that.

“It seems you guys are closer to brothers than friends, even though he and your sister didn’t wind up staying together,” I said. “But I’m sorry you got caught in the middle of it. That must have been hard.”

“Yeah. Don’t know why I’m telling you all this.” He gave me a look out of the corner of his eye. “You’re too easy to talk to, you know?”

I smiled. “So are you.”

“You haven’t told me anything yet.”

“Ah, all right.” I rubbed my palms against the sides of my jeans, warming them up. What to tell him? His honesty and openness meant I could give him no less. Might as well just lay it all out. “My parents divorced when I was fourteen. It messed me up for a while. But Anne helped me get back on track, helped me graduate and get into college.”

“Pretty good sister.”

“She’s an amazing sister.”

His gaze switched back and forth between me and the road. “You work hard too, though.”

“Yes. But college is expensive and she sacrificed a lot to get me there, so she deserves the bulk of the credit.”

“Sounds like you both hauled ass to get out of a bad situation.”

“Hmm.” I rested my head against the back of the car seat. The man was far too easy to talk to. I liked it. “That’s it really. I work part time at the same bookstore as Anne.”

He half smiled, and sadly even that made me giddy. God, he was beautiful. I never wanted this car ride to end. We could drive to Wisconsin for all I cared. Just point the hood east and keep going until we ran out of gas.

“Messed you up in what way?” he asked.

That stopped the happy. “Not a topic I like to talk about.”

He just waited, drawing me out, playing me at my own game. Sneaky.

“I hung out with some losers. Drank, did drugs. Speed and pot, nothing too hard-core. I ditched school and did things I shouldn’t have. Dangerous things. Dated the wrong guy for a while.” My fingernails dug into me through the fabric of my jeans. All of those memories were ugly. I’d been so young and idiotic. “Then I got busted stealing. The guy who owned the shop kept saying he was going to call the police, but Anne managed to talk him out of it. That scared the shit out of me. Plus, seeing how upset Anne got about it. It finally got through to me that I wasn’t the only one hurting. I stopped sneaking out at night and messing around, started going to school again. I was just so angry that they couldn’t keep their shit together and be like a normal mom and dad.”

“I bet.”

“Though what even is normal? Seems like everyone’s parents are divorced these days.”

“Yeah. Just about.”

“Doesn’t make for much of an example, does it?”

He made a humming noise of agreement.

“So that’s why I’m into psychology. One day I hope to be able to help other kids ride out the rough patches.”

He smiled.

“Anyway, enough of me and my early-teen angst.” I crossed my legs, turning toward him in the seat. “When did you start playing bass?”

“Fourteen or so. Dave was always crazy about guitars, and then Mal’s mom got him the kit. Jimmy’d already decided he was gonna be the singer. I had an uncle who owned an old bass guitar. Grandpa talked him into giving it to me.”

“The same Grandpa who gave you the truck? He sounds awesome.”

“He was, Lizzy. He really was.”