Still Water (2 page)

"Nothing, baby girl." Nothing of consequence. Nothing that will change anything. Nothing… I had nothing. What the hell do I do now?

This entire mental digression sucked. All these memories were still so fresh, and I needed a reprieve. I stood up and walked into the bathroom to wash off the previous night's mistake. The hot water pounded my tightly wound muscles loose as the steam pulled me back down making it possible for me to relax. Placing both hands against the tiles in front of me, I hung my head underneath the heavy stream of water. I watched the water run over my inked up chest and arms. The small rivers made the artwork look alive. The distinguishable alert my phone made when I'd received a text broke me from my trance. I took a couple of cleansing breaths before I quickly scrubbed my body and hair. As much as I wanted to linger here, I had to face the day at some point.

I wrapped a towel loosely around my waist, grabbed my phone, swiped the unlock screen, and my stomach fell. It's like she knew I was thinking about her.
Shit.
I almost didn't want to open the text. Who was I kidding? There was no way I wasn't opening the damn text. If I thought my day couldn't get any shitter, I was wrong.

Lizzie:
Just thinking of you. We miss you round these parts. Sailor's first birthday was last month. I wish you could have made it.

Underneath the text was a picture of Elizabeth and her daughter, Sailor. Lizzie looked beautiful — her face was still a bit full from the weight she'd gained during the pregnancy and her dark brown hair was shiny. And Sailor? She was the cutest damn baby I'd ever seen. She had huge blue eyes and dark chocolate curls.
She is going to break someone's heart with those eyes, just like her mother.
I think I noticed a tooth; I chuckled. This picture was just what I needed. I shook my head as I looked at my stupid mug in the mirror.
Who the hell is that guy?

"I'm such an idiot," I spoke out loud and swore under my breath. I was missing out on everything all because I chose to bury my damn head in the sand. "Fuck it," I blurted to the image in the mirror as I turned and leaned against the bathroom sink. I dialed the number that had caused me so much panic over the last three years. The phone rang four times; with each ring my heart skipped a beat.

"Todd…?" Lizzie's voice was surprised, and she sounded out of breath. I heard the most amazing little giggle in the background. Sailor. "Todd? Is… is that you?" It felt like a whole minute before I spoke. My brain was misfiring at hearing her voice again — the noise of her home, her life moving forward in the background. How could I bring myself to say the words, to take myself back there again? "Please talk to me," her voice broke and shook my resolve.

"Hey, baby girl." My lips curled into an involuntary smile at my term of endearment for her.

She let out a long sigh. "Hey."

"Um… erm… how ya been, Lizzie Bean?" I wasn't sure what to say. I needed to lighten the dark cloud that had fallen the minute she picked up the phone.

Her soft laugh filtered through the speaker. "It's been over a year. I miss you so much. Sawyer misses you too." And there it was… the reason I stayed away. She wasn't mine anymore. "Gosh Todd, you don't even know my daughter." Liz's voice trembled, and I could tell she was crying. My selfish prick ass was the reason her tears were probably falling hard right now. I needed to stop and grow the hell up.

"I know. I've been a shitty friend."

She chuckled. "Yeah, you have." I heard her sniffle. A small cooing "Mama" came across the line.

"Listen, you sound busy. How about I come up and have dinner soon?" I had to do this. I had to make myself move the hell on.

"Really? That would be great. How about Friday?" The excitement in her voice was tangible.

"Friday doesn't work, baby girl. We're short a bartender. I have to work, but I could come up Sunday. We're closed Sundays."

"Sunday sounds great. Five-thirty okay with you? Sailor goes to bed by eight. I'd like you to spend some time with her."

"Sounds good. See you then, Lizzie Bean." I hoped she couldn't hear how the small plastic phone rattled in my anxious hands.

"See, you." The line went silent.

T
HE IGNITION OF MY
2009 Toyota 4Runner growled, subduing any apprehension I had from the earlier call to Liz. I loved this piece of shit. I'd had it forever. The silver paint was faded in all the right places, and it had a few old band stickers that were peeling off the back window. This girl had character. I smirked. The best part was it had the perfect amount of space for most of my band equipment. My smile grew as I pulled out of my parking space.
Some things just never get old
. I picked a song from my playlist and started the mental preparation for work. It sucked being short staffed; I needed to hire someone pretty damn quick.

I managed Blue Bar down in Salt Lake. I loved my damn job. I got to play my music with my band once a week and drink for free, but the best part… the owner and I ran a small local record label. Even though I'd been hiding out from my past, the choice I made to move down south was probably the best thing I'd ever done. I was tired of living the small town, farm boy life in good ole West Haven, Utah. Elizabeth getting together with Sawyer just gave me the final shove I needed to get my own life back. At first, it was hard to say goodbye. To be honest, I didn't really want to leave. Elizabeth and my close high school friend, Cam, and I had an awesome band of our own. We were really picking up a huge following. Seth, my now roommate and old friend, had been our drummer. But watching Lizzie live a life without me. No. Fucking. Way. I transferred my credits, moved to Salt Lake, and I had recently graduated with a degree in business.

Seth and I had our own band now, a four-piece with these two dudes we met while out drinking one night. Jack was an amazing bass player, and Graden? Well, that kid could lay it down on the guitar. I sang and also played guitar. We played every Tuesday at Blue. Music always had a way of making everything seem all right, even if it was only temporary.

I pulled into the back lot of the bar and let the song on my iPod play out before I headed inside. My mind was a complete suckfest. How in the world was I going to make it through Sunday dinner at Elizabeth's house? What the hell was I thinking?
Shit.
I needed reinforcements, and I knew exactly who to ask. I pulled my phone from the center console and sent a quick text to my old best friend, and, if I was a betting man, my soon to be sister-in-law.

Me:
I need you.

Cam:
Don't be sending me dirty texts anymore. Are you drunk?

I laughed aloud. Cameron Sealy had been my best friend since kindergarten. I had tried to defend Lizzie over an issue with a marker, if I remember correctly. Anyway, the bitch, Cam, was so stubborn. I think I made her cry, so Elizabeth full on hit me. Since then I can't remember a time Cam hasn't been around. In fact, she's around way more than I like now. My brother Colby started dating her a few years ago, and now they're just the perfect damn couple. I rolled my eyes. They fight so badly all the time. It's actually quite comical. Colby always tries to brag about the make-up sex. I shut that shit show of a conversation down real quick. I didn't need to know what Cameron was like in the sack. Don't get me wrong. She is super-hot. Five foot ten, all legs, and long strawberry blonde hair, but I looked at her like a sister. I definitely didn't want to know where her "sweet spots" were. I outwardly cringed at the thought as I typed out my reply.

Me:
Hell no, I'm not drunk! I'm just getting to work.

Cam:
OK? What do you want? I'm busy. Some of us still go to school. We can't all be fancy graduates.

I might as well just be blunt.

Me:
I'm going to Liz's for dinner on Sunday. Go with me?

I waited two whole minutes for a reply.

Me:
Please… I can't do it alone.

Her next text came immediately

Cam:
I will. I'm so happy right now! I could freaking burst! About time, you moron. What time is dinner?

I swore. About damn time… Whatever.

Me:
5:30. Bring my stupid ass little brother.

Cam:
Duh ;) Love ya, Toodles.

I hated that nickname.

Me:
Don't call me that. See you Sunday, whore.

Cam:
Nice, real nice. Love you, asshat.

Cammie and I always had our way; she had me clutching my stomach in laughter at her last text. I was so busy laughing my damn head off I didn't realize I was late. I was stalling, dreading the paperwork I knew was piled high. Frank, my boss, needed help with the label, so I'd taken the first half of the week off. He had signed a new folk band out of Denver. We spent the better part of the week in the studio with them. Their music had a real nice vibe, the best talent we had signed yet. My assistant manager Tiffany was a hard ass; she hated the personnel aspect of the job. She was spitting daggers at me when I'd told her it was her job to hand out the applications. I was sure there were shit loads of applications sitting on my desk right now.

I turned off the car and grabbed my phone. It was now three-thirty. Tiffany was going to bite my head off for being late. I needed to hire someone quick unless I wanted a murder on my hands. Tiff was very temperamental.

My key slid into the back door of the bar. The smell of bleach, pine, and musty cigarettes assaulted my senses as the door opened. Home. I smiled a small sideways grin. The sound system out in the front of the bar was playing loudly, and I recognized the song immediately as
"Waiting Room,"
by the old school band Fugazi. The deep bass beat resonated through the dark hall of the back offices. I set down my stuff on my desk, and, sure as shit, the applications were scattered everywhere. I released an annoyed sigh before I headed out front to see what was in store for me. The fact that Tiffany had music on was a good sign. She was a tiny little thing with long, straight jet-black hair, at least ten piercings in each ear, and covered in tattoos. Yeah, she looked harmless, but I knew better. She'd mess me up before I'd even have the chance to say hello. That little sprite packed a mean punch to the nuts. I knew… personally.

Tiffany's history was why I was nervous coming out of that back hallway. She hated my ass for leaving her to run the joint. As I stepped through the back hallway door, I came to a complete halt. Looking around bewildered for a minute, I gawked at the hot piece behind the bar. The song had picked up, and she was singing and dancing her ass off while dusting the bottles we'd lit up for decoration.
Damn.

I took a few steps closer to the bar. Her back was facing me, thank God. Otherwise, my deliberate stare probably would've freaked her out. She was totally curvy, petite as hell… sweetest ass I'd ever seen. She was shaking it as she belted out the lyrics. Her hair – Holy shit that hair! – was wild and curly. The copper color shone brilliantly under the can lights of the bar. I was stock still, trapped by just the sight of her. Her hair like a flame licked up and down. It was everywhere. She reminded me of that Scottish Disney chick Seth's little niece always watched. She had on black skinny jeans that hugged every blessed curve of her body. The tight, gray T-shirt she wore had a small surfboard printed on the back in between her shoulder blades. The odd logo in a land-locked state brought me back down from my overly aroused senses.

What the hell was wrong with me? She was just a chick. I haven't had a response to a female like this since… well ever. Lizzie was the only one who could grind all my inner workings to a halt. Until now. It was time for me to pull my shit together.

"Excuse me…" Nothing. I cleared my throat and spoke louder. "Excuse me."

The girl squeaked and about fell over. She knocked over her spray bottle of cleaner and caught herself on the bar with her hands.

"Holy shit, are you okay?" I burned up the concrete to get to her. She could have broken her damn neck.
Whoa… simmer down, Todd
. My inner dialog was pissing me off.