Outsider (58 page)

Reagan
supposed it was fitting that her father had been the one to tuck her into a
taxi and escort her to the airport. In her wedding dress, no less.

“You
have a lot of explaining to do,” Dad said the second the taxi door shut. “Why
were you in such a rush to marry that young man? The truth.”

Reagan
groaned and curled into her knees as best she could in her constrictive attire.
She didn’t want to explain to her father. Not now. Not after she’d undoubtedly
pulverized Trey’s heart by leaving him at the altar. Not when she hadn’t spoken
to Ethan about why he’d suddenly decided not to support her marriage to Trey.

“Reagan?”
He nudged her in the arm, and she scooted as far from him as possible. “Tiger,”
he said, with a bit less hostility, “talk to me.”

When
she continued to ignore him, Dad said, ““Pull over and stop the car,” to the
cab driver.

“You
want to get out here?” the cabbie asked, obviously surprised that the side of
an interstate seemed a good place to drop off a man in a tuxedo and his
daughter in a wedding gown.

“I
want to go home, back to Arkansas,” Reagan said. To hide. She expected her
father to think that was the best idea she’d ever had, but apparently not.

“Tell
me the truth, Reagan. Why did you back out of your wedding? I thought you were
in love with Trey.”

“I
am in love with Trey. It’s just . . . It’s . . . It’s
complicated, okay?” Too complicated to explain to a conservative-minded man like
her father. “Just take me home. Please.”

He
stared into her eyes for a long moment as she wordlessly pleaded with him to do
as she asked, just this once, without arguing with her, without making her feel
shittier than she already felt. She dashed a tear away with the back of her
hand, and Dad closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he leaned toward the
driver. “We’re going to the airport after all,” he said. “Sorry for the
confusion.”

Thank
God. Reagan leaned into him, unable to fight the tears any longer, and he
wrapped a sturdy arm around her shoulders.

“Are
you sure?” the driver said. “It ain’t safe to pull off the side of the freeway
like this. I won’t do it again.”

“I’m
sure. I apologize for the trouble.”

“Better
be a big tip in this for me,” the driver grumbled under his breath as he
checked the lane for an opening in the traffic zooming by.

“You’re
not off the hook, Reagan,” Dad said calmly. “You’re still going to tell me
everything that’s going on.”

She
couldn’t.

“I
won’t be angry with you when you explain.”

“I’m
not going to explain,” Reagan said, shifting out of his hold. Why couldn’t he
just allow her to live her life? “It’s none of your business.”

“You’re
my only family, tiger. My flesh and blood. My progeny and my responsibility. It
is my business. It—you—will always be my business.”

“I
don’t . . . I don’t want you to be disappointed in me.”
Disgusted by her? Both? She pressed a trembling hand to her forehead to try to
settle the confused thoughts swirling through her brain.

“I
could never be disappointed in you.”

She
dropped her hand and gaped at him. “How can you say that? My entire adult life
is a disappointment to you.”

“It’s
not.” He shook his head. “I would have chosen a different path if I had your
talent, but that doesn’t mean I’m disappointed in the path you did choose. It’s
your life. I just want you to be happy.”

She
wasn’t buying it. They’d been arguing for six
years
about how she was
throwing her talent away on rock music. “You hate what I’ve become.”

“I
thought I did, but seeing you up on that stage in Little Rock, I was proud. So
proud.”

He
hadn’t told her that. And she still wasn’t sure she believed him. She wanted
to. Knowing he was capable of being proud of her made her want to tell him
about her love life even less than before, but also gave her hope that he could
accept her.

“Does
this have something to do with Ethan?” he asked

Reagan
went completely still. Maybe if she played possum, he’d forget she was in the
cab.

“You
dated him before Trey, right? You still live with him now?”

Reagan
nodded slightly.

“So
you still have feelings for him?”

She
nodded again—the small action terrifying.

“Is
that why you left Trey at the altar?”

She
had done that, hadn’t she? Ugh, how terrible for Trey. How clichéd of her.

“You
probably should have sorted out your feelings before you rushed into getting
married. You’re obviously confused.”

But
she wasn’t.

“I
understand my heart perfectly,” she said. “I love Ethan. I’ve loved him for
years. Romantically for a while and then when I found out he enjoys the company
of men, I thought our relationship shifted to friendship. But it’s more than
that now. It’s both.”

“You’re
in love with a gay man?” Dad had that traumatized look he sported when anyone
discussed something that went against his moral fiber.

She
inhaled one very big breath and said, “I’m in love with two of them.” Once she
got started, she couldn’t stop. She also couldn’t look at her dad as she
confessed her crimes against propriety.

“Well,
that’s not exactly correct. They aren’t gay men. Ethan is bisexual. He likes
both men and women, and he fought those urges the best he could, but he is who
he is and he’s finally accepted that. Trey . . .” Her heart
twisted just thinking about him. He must be hurting terribly after the way she
left him, humiliated him, in front of all those reporters. “Trey is the same,
except he’s not afraid to let his love show. When I started dating Trey, I
thought he was straight, and he tried to be straight for me, but he couldn’t
deny who he was for long. It’s just not in him. So I got this great idea of
allowing my new bisexual boyfriend to satisfy his sexual needs with my gay—at
least I thought Ethan was gay at the time—roommate, only my plan didn’t go as
planned. We all ended up together.” She lifted her gaze to her father’s stunned
face. “In one relationship. Me and Ethan. Me and Trey. Ethan and Trey.”

“You’re
shacking up with two men?”

Reagan
groaned. “You make it sound so dirty.” And it was pretty dirty, but in a very
good way. It was also pure and beautiful in an even better way. “It’s not just
about having great sex all the time, Dad. We love each other.”

A
horn blared as the cab crossed into the next lane. The driver was busier
watching his passengers in his rearview mirror than the traffic on either side
of them.

Dad’s
face had gone red. Anger? Embarrassment? She couldn’t tell which. “We’re going
back to Arkansas.”

“Good.”

“I
should have never let you leave in the first place.”

“You
couldn’t have stopped me. And you won’t be able to stop me next week when I go
back on tour.”

“Do
you actually think you’re going to get back together with them?”

“If
I can.” She might have destroyed what they had. And that scared her so much,
she couldn’t dwell on that possibility. Not yet.

Sitting
with his bare feet in the water, Trey stared at the mosaics that his mother had
tiled into the bottom and sides of the pool. He probably should have gone with
Ethan to support him while he took his test—the first step in joining the Beverly
Hills PD—but Ethan had dropped Trey off at his parents’ house saying it would
make him nervous if he stayed and that Trey could support him from afar. Trey
always sat by the pool when he was depressed. And because they hadn’t seen or
heard from Reagan since she’d fled the chapel in Vegas two days before, he was
at an all-time low.

A
shadow crossed behind him, and a foot nudged him hard between the shoulders,
sending him flopping face first into the water. Trey bobbed to the surface,
sputtering. He slicked his bangs out of his eyes and glared up at his brother’s
grinning face.

“Get
out of your funk, little brother. We have things to do today.”

“I’m
not doing anything with you, assface.”

“Mom
is throwing a party this evening, and she doesn’t need you glooming up the
place with your moodiness.”

“I’m
not moody,” Trey said. “I’m heartbroken.”

“I
don’t know why. Your secret love affair with Ethan is all anyone is talking
about right now.”

“Of
course it is,” Trey muttered, pushing himself out of the pool with both arms.
“They think Reagan left me at the altar because she couldn’t stand hiding my
secret
homosexuality.”

“You
can’t blame Reagan for not wanting to marry you—you’re a wreck. You’ve always
been a wreck and you’ll always be a wreck.”

“Thanks
for cheering me up, bro.” Trey scowled and shoved Dare in the arm with one
dripping hand.

“You’re
welcome. Now dry off and get dressed. We’re in a hurry.”

“To
do what?” Trey asked, reaching for a towel.

“To
straighten out the wreck that is Trey Mills.”

“I’m
not going to a psychiatrist.”

Dare
laughed. “There are better ways to patch you up. Get dressed.”

By
the time he was sitting in the passenger seat of Dare’s car, he was more
curious than annoyed. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll
see.”

Dare
drove toward the coast and encouraged Trey to talk. Talk about Ethan and Reagan
and if he really wanted to patch up their relationship. So it turned out he was
having a psychiatric session after all. His shrink’s couch just happened to be
the leather seat of a cherry-red Corvette.

“So
if you could have anything you want, you’d want to marry
both
of them?”
Dare asked, waving at several gorgeous blondes in the convertible next to them
at a red light.

“It
can’t happen,” Trey said. “The law says—”

“Fuck
the law.”

Apparently
Dare was feeling uncommonly rebellious that afternoon. When the light turned
green, the powerful muscle car’s tires squealed as he punched the accelerator
and shot off, leaving the giggling women in the dust.

“I
sometimes wonder if it would be better . . .” Trey glanced out
the window at the palm tree trunks flashing by. “If I can’t have them both,
maybe I’d be better off with neither of them.”

“That’s
the worst idea you’ve ever had,” Dare said. “We’ll fix this.” He nudged Trey
with his elbow. “Do you believe me?”

Trey
wished people would stop asking him that question. “How?”

“By
taking you three idiots out of the equation.”

“Huh?”

Dare
chuckled. “Hold on.”

He
downshifted and took a corner so fast, Trey was sure they’d banked on two
wheels. Dare insisted that his various cars needed their exercise—as if they
were racehorses rather than machines—and he was definitely running this one
through its paces. When they returned to their parents’ house, the entire
driveway was full of cars. Trey cringed, not wanting to rub elbows with a bunch
of his father’s associates—mostly doctor friends and their significant others.
Then his eyes zeroed in on a familiar pink Thunderbird. It was unquestionably Myrna’s
car. A green vintage Corvette convertible belonging to Eric Sticks, the Harley
that Jace rode, and Sed’s Mercedes were all parked in the drive as well. Why
would his bandmates be there?

“Dare,”
Trey said, turning to his smugly grinning brother. “What’s going on?”

Dare
didn’t answer, just shut off the car and climbed out of the driver’s seat.

Heart
thudding in his chest, Trey eased the car door open and followed.