Reckless Abandon (24 page)

“Have you been with him?” His tone drops an octave to the one called “calculating.”

“No. I’ve told you that. Twice now.”

“What do you mean
ignore who you are
?” His jaw ripples beneath the surface of his frown.

“This isn’t me, Adrian. This penthouse, the doorman, the valet. It’s just not me. I’m beer, beaches, and guitars. That’s who I’ve always been.”

Adrian slowly lifts his chin and studies me from head to toe. He turns around mechanically and walks down the hallway, as I stand frozen in silence. He returns with his Princeton hoodie, the one I always wear, the one I always wore back then. He tosses it in my direction but I let it fall at my feet while I wait for him to speak.

“Adrian ...” I start, but he cuts me off without looking at me. He’s staring at Princeton on the floor. Faded orange sleeves and tattered blue lettering.

“I never had you, did I? I never stood a chance.” He turns his back before continuing. “Get out of my apartment. I don’t ever want to see you again.” The finality in his voice sends chills through my body. “Go!”

Startled, I jump with my hand on the doorknob. Adrian laces his fingers together behind his neck, takes a deep breath, and looks up a the ceiling. I look between the sweatshirt and his back. With a quiet deep breath I leave the sweatshirt—and everything it represents—alone in the apartment with Adrian. I hold it together down the private elevator, through the private corridor, and past the well-dressed doorman. I manage a polite “thank you” to the valet when he hands me my keys, before pulling into the parking garage and sobbing until I have nothing left.

I’m hopelessly, helplessly in love with Bo Cavanaugh. My fears, my indecisions, and my insecurities have swirled a bitter cocktail of regret in my soul. When the tears are gone and the raw pain of my decisions sears through my nerves, I drive back to Barnstable.

I have to get my shit together.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Work has provided the perfect focal point over the last week. I’ve had a few business calls with Rae, but everything with the community center is going smoothly. There’s not much that needs to be done on my end right now. I miss it. I miss DROP’s halls and Rae’s smiling face everyday. I miss
hi
m
.
The constant anxiety I felt for half of every week for the last several weeks hasn’t been replaced. It’s just...gone. I
mis
s
him.

Monica was shocked to find me back at my apartment last Sunday after Adrian and I broke up. I couldn’t run to Bo without making sure I was a whole person first. I’ve been questioning what it was, exactly, that made me bail in Concord. It was fear, many different kinds of fear. I was scared of Bill and Tristan, and confused at Bo’s involvement. I was scared, wondering if there were other secrets. Mostly, I was scared of our pace. We fell in love in an instant; a split second blink and my entire world shifted. I was scared that it wasn’t real...or that it was. That still scares me.

With Josh and Monica on vacation at his parents’ house, I’ve been able to go home from work, write, play my guitar, and sleep. There have been tears. Lots of tears. But, I let them come this time. I’m looking forward to playing at Finnegan’s tonight. With Josh out of town, Regan’s taking over guitar and vocals. Rae smiles at Regan from the crowd as we warm up.

“She’s great, isn’t she?” I whisper to Regan between vocal checks.

“She’s amazing.” His grin is infectious. “How are you holding up, Kid?”

“You know, Regan, I actually feel great. Seems my body knew that what I was doing with Adrian was wrong before my mind did. I can’t believe how much better I feel.” I settle onto the stool as C.J. taps our starting tempo between his sticks.

After a long, sweet look, Regan strums C.J.’s tempo and we get lost in our set. Regan and C.J. have played together for years, even as kids, so it’s up to me to keep up with their silent understanding of our playlist. We have a page or two worth of “accepted” songs, but “The Cave” by Mumford and Sons isn’t one of them. I roll my eyes and flip C.J. off behind my back as he and Regan start it as our closing number. Regan switches to the guitar for the number and sings with me. Thankfully, it’s one of my favorites and I’m able to give it my best shot. Assholes.

“You pulled it off, Rapunzel. You pulled it off,” C.J. teases through the applause.

“You’re both dickheads.” I give them a smug smile.

Regan wraps his arm around my shoulders and leans down, speaking in my ear, “You’re worlds better without that Adrian guy in your head, November. That was the best I’ve heard you sing since I’ve known you.” My cheeks burn at his interpretation of my performance. “You were right when you said you sing for you, that’s for sure.” He pulls away as Rae hugs his waist from behind. After they kiss, and C.J. rolls his eyes and heads to the bar, Rae turns to me.

“Thanks for taking care of Bo last week, Ember.” I shoot Regan an accusatory stare. “No,” she continues, “Bo told me ...”

“Oh. OK. It wasn’t a problem. He doesn’t drink much, huh?” I try to chuckle at his sloppy performance after the engagement party.

“He didn’t use to.” Before the awkward silence suffocates us, she perks up. “Hey, do you want to come riding with Regan and I next weekend?”

“Like horseback riding?”

“Yeah. There are some great trails a few miles outside of town. Family friends own a stable that we can use whenever we want. I thought it might be fun, me, you, Bo—”

“Rae ...” I’m not in the mood to be set up on a date. Not with Bo—we’re a bit past that even if we’re not together.

“Oh come on, Ember, it’ll be fun!”

“You make a convincing argument,” I tease, “but I just don’t want to be under a microscope right now. I know you wouldn’t intentionally make it feel that way, but...I mean your brother and I haven’t even had a sober conversation since the community center opened.” I shake my head and shoulder up to C.J. at the bar. He slides me his just-poured beer before ordering another one. “Thanks,” I mumble, taking a sip.

“Ember, listen.” Rae stands next to me and speaks in a near whisper, “I’m not supposed to say anything but Bo has something he’s planning, and it was my job to get you to Concord next weekend.” She knots her fingers and looks at me through her mile-long lashes. “I’m failing here. You’ve
got
to cut me some slack. If you don’t want to come riding, that’s fine...just meet us at Tarryn’s around seven on Saturday, OK?”

“Tarryn’s?” I sigh.

“Yeah, it’s the restaurant where we first had dinner...when Ainsley was there, remember?”

“Oh, yeah, the time I realized I couldn’t live without you!” I laugh, remembering her obvious detest of Ainsley that evening.

“That’s the one. Will you remember how to get there?” Her eyes widen in excitement.

“If I decide to go I’ll see you there, OK?”

“Trust me, Ember, you’re not going to want to miss this. I love you!” She squeezes my neck with all the force her 110-pound frame can muster and leaves a wet kiss on my cheek.

She and Regan disappear in hand-holding bliss, and I’m left with C.J. at the bar. I study the beer he gave me.

“Thanks again for the beer, that was oddly nice of you.” I don’t know how to speak to C.J. with anything but sarcasm.

“No problem, Rap-”

“Seriously, dude, what’s with Rapunzel?” I cut him off. “Is it the hair? It’s not
that
long.”

C.J. stares at me with his chocolate brown eyes and sucks in a deep breath before answering me.

“You honestly don’t know?” I shake my head in response to his condescending tone. “Fine. Look, it’s like...you’re the hottest girl in here on any night of the year. It’s a fact. I mean, seriously, Ember, look around you.” C.J. gestures around the bar with his beer bottle, eyes widened. “No one comes close. You’re untouchable ...” He looks down and picks at the beer label with his thumb.

“C.J...what?” Candor is not something I’ve come to expect from him, and I think he’s joking with me.

“And the best part is you have no idea, which makes you a hundred times more gorgeous. So,
Rapunzel,
you’re in a stair-less tower. No one can get to you...except for that Bo guy. Why are you locking the door on that?”

“I’m not.” I shake my head in confusion.

“Then meet the poor bastard in Concord next weekend and see what he has planned, would you?” C.J. yawns while he laughs.

“Tired Ceej?” I ask.

“No, just seeing if that girl over there was staring at me. If you yawn, and someone’s looking at you, they’ll yawn, too. Look, she’s yawning, time to make my move.” With a pat on my back, he slides off his stool.

“You’re a gem,” I chuckle, “poor girl doesn’t know what’s about to hit her.”

“Just go to Concord next weekend, Gorgeous. You deserve it.” C.J. cocks his eyebrow and  stalks toward the yawner across the bar.

I finish my beer quickly when I realize that Saturday nights are open-mic night at Tarryn’s. Butterflies that my stomach thought were extinct burst to life and encircle my insides. Suddenly, I’m struck with a decision that’s truly been months in the making. Bravery drives me home and holds my hand as I chase the sunrise with my notebook and guitar.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

I have no idea what to expect from Bo as I drive to Concord on this hot late July day. Well, I have some idea, given that it’s at an open-mic night, but I’m trying to focus on my own surprise. I reassured Rae nearly every day this week that I’d be coming, but I’ve kept mum regarding my plan. Regan knows, since he helped me with a bit of the guitar work, but I’ve gotten really good in a short amount of time. Regan and Josh say it’s in my blood— especially now that they know about my parents.

I pull into the parking lot at Tarryn’s at 7:00 on the dot. I don’t need my nerves talking me out of this if I have too much time to think. A quick scan of the room shows no sign of Bo, Regan, or Rae, though I suppose Regan and Rae never told me they would be here—they just asked that I be here. I slide my guitar case to my feet as I sit at the bar and order a drink. I’m excited to share this. I’m ready to share it. All I really need is for Bo to be here. The rest of the crowd is just a bonus.

When the MC checks the mic and announces the first act, I pull out my cell phone and check the time. It’s 7:10. At 7:15, I text Rae a question mark but receive no response. I try not to check over my shoulder every few minutes, but that’s a task that’s proving to be impossible.

7:20 ...

7:25...

7:30 ...

7:35 ...

Ainsley.

“Interesting seeing you here.” Ainsley places a hand on her hip as she squares off next to me.

“Is it?” I mumble, turning in her direction.

“Why are you here?”

“I was invited.”

“By who?”

“Bo.” I grin as her cheeks redden.

“Hmm,” she stammers as she tries to recover, “I guess you’ve been stood up, Sweetheart. He’s supposed to be playing right now and he’s not here.” Now it’s my turn for red cheeks.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think she could be telling the truth. And the fact that Rae didn’t answer my text means that she either doesn’t know I’m sitting here alone, or she’s fighting with Bo about it. Still, I have Ainsley to deal with.

“You’d love that, wouldn’t you? For Bo to stand me up. I just have one question for you,” I say as I stand and reach for my guitar. “Can you tell me where he was last Saturday night? I can, and it wasn’t with you.” I chuckle at Ainsley’s effort to keep her face composed, while her eyes nearly bug out of her head.

I make it out of the bar and slide my guitar in the car before trying Rae again. There’s no answer, so I have no choice but to call Bo and find out why I’m here alone at, now, forty minutes after we were supposed to meet. I dial his number and wait through three rings. My nervous energy has transferred to annoyance.

“Hello?” A man answers. It’s not Bo. I check my phone and it says that I did, in fact, call Bo.

“Uh, hello? Bo? It’s November ...” I know it’s not him, but I need to clarify that somehow.

“November, it’s David Bryson. I have Bo’s phone right now.” His voice is shaky and leads my pulse into a race pace.

“David, I’m here at Tarryn’s. I was supposed to meet Bo at seven—is everything OK?”

“November ...” The change in his tone throws my heart to its knees in prayerful supplication.

No, no, no...Please let him be OK. Please.

Fumbling with my keys, I drop them twice before I get my door unlocked and push my guitar to the back seat.

“David, what is it? Is Bo OK?” Something awful has happened. My body knows it; I’m already crying.

“Listen, we’re at the hospital,” he takes a deep breath and clears his throat, “Bo’s fine. Rachel had an accident on the horse today, she’s in surgery right now ...” He keeps talking but I can’t make out the words. I speed out of Tarryn’s lot in search of the hospital.

* * *