Let Me Go (7 page)

“Speaking of which,” I say when she slides out and saunters over to me, two beers weaved between her fingers. She places mine down next to me and saddles up on the stage.

“Thought you might want one before your show.” The drift of her fruity perfume assaults my nose. Urgency comes over me to figure out where it’s coming from.

“Thanks.” I nod, diverting my attention to tightening my string.

“Did you break that last night?” she asks, tucking her hands under her thighs and swinging her legs back and forth.

I flick my head in her direction, confused how she guessed. “Yeah.”

“I’m in the room next door. I heard you playing and then you screamed fuck in the middle of a song.” She giggles and I wish I could record that noise because it makes me feel something I haven’t felt in years. “I figure occupational hazard.”

“I wouldn’t call this my occupation.”

Why does this chick bring so much truth out of me?

“Would you want it to be?”

I don’t answer right away, completing fixing my string. After the night when we got ice cream, she’s a little too intrigued if music is what I want to do with my life.

“Like I said, I don’t know.” I lay my guitar down on the stage. Leaning back on the palms of my hands, I check her eyes as they focus on the bare strip of my stomach from my shirt rising up. Deciding I don’t want to move because she should drool over what she could have, I remain in place. It may not be a six-pack, but it’s damn tempting.

“Hey,” she leans in to grab the attention she doesn’t believe she has and waves a beer in front of my face. “Have fun tonight and think about that hard stuff later.” I blankly stare at her and she dips her head and shoots that innocent smile at me. If she were mine, I’d have her in the back of the van already.

Instead I swipe the beer from her hand. “You know me all too well.” Sitting up straighter, I down a long pull of my beer. She crosses her ankles and tips back a sip of her own.

Roni is busy shuffling food and drinks to the tables slowly filling up for us tonight. We don’t go on for another hour, so there’s time to pack the place. I side glance over to Paige and notice her eyes searching around the same way. God, I hope we fill this place tonight. Otherwise, I’ll appear like a loser to her. She’s definitely into music, more than she lets on. I hear what music she plays through our shared wall. It’s classic, old shit, but music I’ve loved from the time I started really working on cars.

“A lot of girls here,” she comments and I chuckle.

“Jealous?” I ask and her head reels my way, trying to appear straight faced.

“You wish.” She chooses to toss a sarcastic flirt and I like her even more for it.

“I do.” There’s a half-truth in there somewhere.

She tears her eyes from mine and jumps off the stage. “Good luck tonight.” Then she flips around to escape back to the table, now filled with the three couples that consist of The Invisibles.

“Paige!” I scream out and she spins back around. “I don’t need luck.” There’s the persona I’ve mastered since I started at Western.

Her eyes dig deep into my own, violating me with her glare. She nods with a solemn gaze before sliding into the booth, leaving me resembling a pile of shit.

When my parents drove me up my freshman year, I convinced myself the Rob Winters from small town country, was gone. He died in Mill River, never to be resurrected. In exchange, an asshole was erected and soon girls hated me, but never declined to occupy my bed at night. What the hell do I care, they fill a physical need because damn if I’ll open my heart up to being shredded again. But Paige, she scares the crap out of me. She’s slowly and gently tugging at my heart, but it’s not ready and I’m not sure it ever will be.

I leap off the stage, not wanting to even think about my heart and shit like love anymore. I meander over to a table of girls and plop down with them. Their mouths drop open and their eyes dart to each other’s, wondering why I’m there.

“Hey girls.” I nod and they giggle.

A blonde scoots her chair a little closer. There’s always a ‘take charge’ one in every group. “Hi, Rob.” I’ve never felt more like someone else than I do when the girls ogle my body with their eyes.

“Hi . . .” I wait for her to fill in the blank.

“Drea.” Obviously, I’m not the only one who decided to reinvent themselves in college. Odds are this girl was Andrea in high school and she figured, Drea sounds cool. The idea that she was a shy and quiet nerd in high school flipped slut in college intrigues me. They are usually the wild ones. The ones that go to the back room and suck me off.

I chat with the girls while they benefit me with their undivided attention. At one point during all the giggles and pushed out tits in my direction, a group orgy crosses my mind. Then a hand clasps on my shoulder and I spin around to find Brady. The girls gasp and their eyes pry to his engaged ass.

“What’s up, man? Care to join us?” I stay relaxed in my chair, my arm stretched out on the table with another beer in my hand, courtesy of Drea.

He nods to the table. “Girls.”

They all sit up straighter and there go those tits again, out on display.

He’s practically a married guy, girls; and his finance is two tables over.

“Hi, Brady.” They all welcome him in unison and I shake my head from their high-pitched voices.

“Rob, I need you.” His face stern, earning his role of the fatherly figure in our group.

“Oh, do you?” I ask and the group of girls giggle.

Just as I begin to stand, I spot Paige breeze by me. She plows through the front door with her purse swung over her shoulder. I bolt up and glance to Brady. “Yeah, that.” He raises his eyebrows and I don’t wait to hear what happened.

Shoving the glass door open, I frantically search left and right. Paige is leaning against the pole of the street lamp, a dim light shining on top of her head while she fiddles with her phone.

“Paige.” She faces me and the hurt isn’t hard to miss, even with her covering it up with a smile.

“Oh, sorry, I was going to say good-bye, but you seemed . . . busy,” she sneers, unable to hide her jealousy. I wish it wasn’t so nice that me talking to a table full of groupies produces this reaction out of her.

“They’re fans; I was just having a beer.” I break the distance between us and grab her elbow only to have her move it out of my grip. “Whoa.” I step back.

“Don’t, Rob.” She twists around, her eyes fueled with anger. “Don’t act like you don’t know exactly what you did in there.” She steps flush against me, jamming her finger into my chest. “You’ve begged me for the past two days to come here.” Her head swings back and forth. “Come to my show, see how great I play, I swear I’ll make it worth it.” She does her best imitation of me. “So I agreed and what do I get for it?”

She flips around and her shoulders rise and fall from the deep intake of breath. I inch forward, placing my hands on her shoulders. “I’m sorry,” I whisper in her ear and her head falls forward. Incredible guilt piles up and my chest begins to ache for making her upset.

She twists around again; her eyes exhibit something much worse than anger—indifference. She tosses her hand and shrugs her shoulders. “Don’t sweat it, Rob. It’s who you are and whatever demon you’re battling inside; I don’t have the time to deal with it. So, go back in there and keep having meaningless hook ups.”

I cock my head, biting my lip to stop the smirk that wants to sneak out. She’s hot when she’s all worked up. “See.” She places her two hands on my chest and pushes me back. “Guys like you don’t change. Do me a favor and ignore me. Don’t knock on my door, don’t say good morning, and if I’m in the living room just keep walking.”

“If I’d known you wanted to fuck me, Paige, I would have arranged it.” Her hand raises and I know what’s going to happen before the sting on my skin is felt.

“Fuck you, Rob. It wasn’t about fucking you, it was about friendship, but you are incapable of anyone knowing the true you.” I place my hand on my cheek, opening my jaw from her power slap. Girls giggle and whisper behind me. When I reel back around, I spot Drea and her friends smoking next to the building, their eyes on the scene unfolding in front of them.

“Paige.” I’m unsure what I’m expecting in this moment. Sure, I’ve enabled strong outbursts from girls at my actions, but a slap, a push, and her angry voice. She fucking gives a shit about me and the sting gets replaced with warmth. I wish I was the kind of guy who could actually use this knowledge for good, but instead I convince myself to pour it on thicker.

“Whenever you’re ready to actually have a meaningful friendship with someone. When you’re honest with them and let down the veil you’ve cast on yourself, talk to me. Otherwise, you’re only a typical guitarist who only gives a shit about his own needs.” She strides down the sidewalk, ignoring the girls’ oh’s and ah’s behind me.

“Paige,” I call out to stop her, but she raises her hand, and flips me off.

To save face, I smack on my cocky smile and begin to tread back into the bar. When my hand is on the door, Drea saunters over to me, her finger swiping down my stomach. “Now that she’s gone, what do you say? A little pre-show workout.” She’s attractive, I can’t ignore that, and she’s exactly what I need in this moment. Someone to help me forget what my heart just felt, but this time, I can’t. I grab her finger, wrapping my fist around it. She smiles and her eyes glisten with desire that I’m going to get her off in the back room.

Catching Paige’s curly hair bounce off her shoulders as she steadily scurries to her car, I let go of Drea’s finger. “Not tonight.” I open the door and step back into Aces.

“Maybe later,” she croons, but the door closes and I squash the urge to tell her not ever.

I BARELY MAKE
it to my car before the first tear falls.
Why am I crying over someone like Rob?
I knew when my heart beat faster during our first encounter, or the butterflies that flutter in my stomach as soon as he sits down next to me; it was more than a physical attraction. I’ve gotten too close, and let him get under my skin. When I’m finally secure in the confines of my car, my fist pounds on the steering wheel. “Damn him,” I yell.

Circling the key in the ignition, I floor the gas, and speed down the street. My mind races with memories of the past two weeks living with Rob. The touches, the nearness, the talks. “Ahhh!” I scream from complete enragement on my stupid crush on a guy who will never reciprocate. One minute I’m convinced we’re friends, but whatever this is between us is only growing like an out of control wildfire. My body keeps resisting the advice my mind is giving it and lately, I’m not so sure my mind knows what the hell it wants to do with Rob Winters.

I mindlessly drive to my dad’s, not even knowing if he’s home from tour. When I stop at the gate, I press in the code and the black iron gates open up to a long driveway through a wooded path. A minute later, my dad’s mansion appears through the clearing of trees and I park in the circular driveway, noticing the place is lit up.

Hoping I’m not finding him indisposed with someone, I don’t use my key. Before I have a chance to knock, my dad opens the door. “Paige.” He’s wearing his pajama pants and no shirt. His tatted arms and chest prominently on display. “I saw you through the security camera.”

My head weaves past him, looking for his “company” for the night and he chuckles lightly. “I’m by myself tonight.” We share a smile, realizing I know way more than I should about his sex life. He opens his arms and I rush into his chest too fast, signaling something’s wrong. “What’s going on, sweetie?” His hand smoothes down my hair and the smell of cigarettes and whiskey calm me. The two disgusting aromas mixed together will always be that of my dad. The one who, as crazy as it is, loves me for me. He gives me the one thing women in his life crave, unconditional and unwavering love.

“Just missed you.” Even though it’s true because I rarely get any time with him, I came to him tonight, seeking out information from someone so similar to Rob. Why they aren’t able to be truthful with their inner self and settle down with someone. Not that I want Rob to say ‘I love you,’ drop down on a knee, and beg me to marry him. An honest request for a date would be nice instead of sexual innuendos. He toes that friendship line, and just when I’m about to quit fighting myself to stay away from his temptations, he backs off.

He draws back from me, his ringed fingers wrapping around my cheeks. “Are you buttering me up?”

“Haha, Dad.” I circle out of his embrace and step through the marble foyer into the great room.

Windows line the back, and the illuminated pool in the backyard is like the neon lights in Vegas contrasted around pitch darkness. My dad bought this property when I was probably three, and made Cleveland his permanent residence to be close to me. He built the house facing Lake Erie for privacy, which he seldom receives. Plopping down on the couch, I sprawl out with my feet on the coffee table.

“You want anything, sweetheart?” my dad calls out from the kitchen, and ice cubes clink in the glass as he pours himself another drink.

“No, I’m good.” After the two beers at Aces, I’m not chancing myself to drive.