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Authors: Andrea Randall

Sweet Forty-Two (6 page)

BOOK: Sweet Forty-Two
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“Well, as long as you’re okay...”

“I’m fine, CJ,” I snapped.

“Christ, all right. What is it with everyone today? Anyway, Regan says the apartment across from you is open”

“It’s in La Jolla, right on the water.” I took off my leather cuff and wrapped it in some paper towel, hoping to salvage it from the cream of mushroom.

“The fuck is that?” CJ paced toward me, pulling his hands from his pockets.

I lifted the bracelet. “Just a cuff I picked up at this second hand store down the str—”


No,

he tenderly wrapped his fingers around my forearm and grazed his thumb across my purple wrist, “
this.

“A bruise.” I tried to keep my voice even, but knew CJ would tear down the facade in a second. He could see through any half-truth of mine as if I’d left the shades open and was walking around the inside of my conscience naked. I pulled my arm back and he released it without a fight.

CJ’s eyes darkened and narrowed at once, as if he were morphing into someone else. Someone only I knew. “That doesn’t look like just a bruise.”

“Whatever it is you think it looks like, it’s not.”

“That guy you left with last night. Him?” He crossed his arms over his chest, taking up a majority of the doorway with his massive shoulders. I sighed as I rolled my eyes. “Don’t give me that look, G. I’m not overreacting.”

“Actually, you are a little. This isn’t senior year. I’m not that girl anymore.” I squared my shoulders to his, my hands on my hips.

“Yeah?” he challenged. “Then, who are you?”

I smiled, trying to break the angry red cloud between us. “Come on, Ceej, you know who I am. We built us. Remember? We learned from each other. How to pick ‘em, how to bed ‘em.”

CJ would give me pointers on how to look attractive, rather than desperate. How to play hard to get. I taught him the same thing. Despite how piggish he might seem to some, he actually uses those techniques every goddamn night. It’s not that he’s a pig, really. It’s that the girls get mad they ever fell for it.

“It’s different for us, Georgia. I’m a guy.”

“Uh-uh, don’t you dare start that shit with me. It’s not different, that’s the whole goddamn point. Don’t go all gender roles on me now, Kane.” I waved my finger in his face and he took both of my arms in his giant hands, just like they were his sticks.

He sighed. “You’re right. Sorry.” The top of his left cheek twitched a little. He didn’t believe the words he was saying, but he wanted to. I needed him to, too. He cleared his throat. “You gonna tell me what happened to your wrist?”

I shrugged. “Guess Dex thought my bedroom walls were red.” I laughed at his confused look, trying to cover up the nausea I felt at constructing yet another lie. And, throwing Dex under the bus with it. “God, read a book once in a while.”

Just then, Lissa appeared in the doorway. “Knock, knock. You cleaned up, girl? You’ve got thirsty customers. Including Dex.”

I froze. Just for a second, but CJ’s grip tightened before he let go. He caught my reaction and seemed to file it away as he slid his hands into his pockets. I needed to keep CJ far away from Dex. Far away from asking about the reality of last night at all.

“Great.” I scraped some sarcasm from the back of my tightening throat and slathered it across my words.

I slid past CJ without meeting his eyes. I needed a shot, and for CJ to get on stage, and for Dex to eat and leave. All at once.

That way no one would get hurt.

No one.

Regan

Ember bounced her knee as her high heel dangled off the dowel in the stool. “God,” she groaned, “where the hell is CJ?” She’d been tense all afternoon. I didn’t know what was sticking to her, but Bo seemed to be checking her for live wires, as well.

Thankfully, CJ strode out of the back hallway a second later, just behind Georgia.

“Couldn’t wait until later tonight, CJ?” Ember did little to control the volume of her voice. Bo’s eyes widened as they darted between Ember and CJ.

Georgia stopped in her tracks and walked with baleful control toward Ember, who paid her no attention. Until Georgia was standing an inch away from her, angry eyes narrowed until I could nearly only see her pupils.

“Wait until later tonight for what?” Georgia’s chest heaved between her narrow shoulders. She’d changed out of her tank top and was wearing a black bar t-shirt that she’d manipulated to still show her belly button. I loved that her stomach wasn’t overly tanned or tight.

“Let it go, Georgia,” CJ grumbled as he pushed past me and settled behind his set. Georgia shot him a killer look. Turning around, I found him mirroring it back to her as he stretched his head from side to side, rolling his shoulders back. He shifted his eyes to me. “Let’s warm up.”

I turned back around and found Ember tying back her hair as Georgia continued to stare at her, taking one, two, three steps backward before she turned toward the bar.

“What the hell?” I whispered.

“What?” Ember shrugged. “She’s a bitch.”

“I swear to God, Ember, shut up.” CJ was speaking through clenched teeth.

“Oh fuck off, CJ. She is. She’s given me nasty looks since she first laid eyes on me. She hangs all over everyone at this bar like she’s the damn ocean breeze, and she gets 
o
f
fended
 when I suggest she was fooling around with you in the back room? Please.” She turned and adjusted her mic stand.

CJ stood up so fast his stool crashed into the wall behind him. “I 
said
 shut up!”


CJ.

 Bo stepped between the drum set and where Ember was sitting. CJ hadn’t moved more than just to stand up, but I found myself inching toward him, as well.

I gotta hand it to Ember. Despite the first row of people in front of the stage going silent at the sight of my bear of a cousin a millisecond away from losing his temper, she calmly turned around. The way she maneuvered on her stool made her look like she was on a rotating display in a jewelry case.

Ember didn’t have a chance to reply. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of blonde hair dart past me. Georgia snaked her way around me and behind the drum set. I couldn’t see the look on her face, but it seemed to calm CJ. She placed one small hand on his shoulder and I watched them relax before my eyes. Just as quickly as she came, she left without ever addressing the rest of us.

I scanned the faces of my bandmates, each looking more confused than the other. “Are we ... set?”

CJ readjusted his seat and raised his sticks. “Let’s start with “Window”.”

I threw my head back in hard laughter, and Bo and Ember followed. 
Guster
 was the least CJ-like band on the 
planet
. He often sat out last summer when we’d fool around with some of their songs. Why he’d choose that song, especially when Ember had just royally pissed him off, was confusing at best.

“Fuck you guys. Are you in or not? You start vocals, Ember, and Bo, can you back off and I’ll take over second vocals? It will sound better that way.” He cleared his throat and held his sticks out. “
What?

“Nothing,” we all answered at once. 
Nothing
 as in Ember and CJ had never sung together, not to mention I hadn’t heard CJ sing in years. He could, and well, but he never did.

Bo and I tuned quickly and Ember set her stool aside and let her hair down. She shifted some mics around and moved one back to CJ, who just nodded at her.

Georgia hopped back up on stage, taking hold of the mic in front of me in order to announce us. As the applause rose, I leaned over and whispered in her ear, “How’d you do that?”

“Do what?” she whispered back playfully. She smelled like basil, or mint, or something. I liked that she didn’t always smell the same.

“Calm the beast.” I tilted my head to the back of the stage. CJ’s quick temper was rarely easily quelled.

She shrugged. “He’s not that complicated.” Georgia turned on her heels and with a skip-step was off the stage and back into the crowd, a fourth tattoo peeking from the bottom of her shirt. Rather than head down to the lowest part of her back, like tattoos on the other girls in the bar, hers seemed to go up further. It looked like there were little feet, or leaves, dancing up her spine.

Bo spoke his thanks to the crowd and counted us off. He strummed the up-tempo intro, and as soon as I joined in, my eyes fell on Georgia. She’d just set drinks in front of a table of girls, and she turned toward the stage, her empty tray hanging loosely by her side. Ember entered the song beautifully, and Georgia’s eyes moved to her, a faraway smile brushing her lips.

As CJ’s entrance neared, I felt myself holding my breath. Ember tensed, too. My eyes, though, stayed on the way Georgia held on to stillness in the middle of the bustling crowd. My fiddle hung by my side during those measures, but I’d have given anything to be able to hide behind it as I watched Georgia take in CJ’s voice. He was good. His tone was as solid as I remembered, just a hint of rasp creeping in behind his cigarette addiction.

Ember sang with her eyes closed a lot, so I couldn’t even get her visual reaction to the emotions Georgia shot through her eyes. I almost missed my entrance with CJ. Just as I pulled the bow across the strings, someone from behind the bar shouted to Georiga, causing her to jump. She turned quickly, but I didn’t miss the sight of her tattooed finger sliding underneath her heavily made-up eye as she bobbed and weaved through the crowd.

What the hell?

I followed her trail to where a guy had called out her name. I’d assumed he was someone working there, with the authority he’d put into his voice, but he was sitting on the patron side of the bar. I recognized him from the night before. He seemed to be a regular here, but she certainly wasn’t happy about his presence. She stood with the empty tray hugged to her body, her head tilted to the side. Before I could judge their relationship further, CJ picked up the tempo of the song. I followed, but not without turning around to see if he was aware of what he was doing.

He was. Looking around me toward the bar, CJ’s forehead scrunched and his nostrils flared. Something was definitely weird. A few seconds sooner than it should have been, the song was over and CJ was on his feet.

Ember stepped in front of him. “CJ, that was great. I’m sorry about—”

“Yeah, yeah,” he cut her off, “it’s fine, just ... do the next song without me, okay? “Foolish Games” again or some other folksy bullshit that doesn’t need me, K?”

“Uh, y-yeah, sure...” Ember trailed off in an almost-daze, looking back at Bo. “Does that keyboard work?”

As they worked on the mechanics of the next song, I grabbed CJ’s arm. Now, even though he’s my height, and I’m older, CJ still had about twice the distance between his shoulders as I did. He wasn’t heavy, per se, but I wouldn’t stand in his way if he were running down the sidewalk. I had our childhood on my side, though, when I stopped him. I’d been like an older brother to him, and more times than not, he would at least listen to me for a few seconds before doing whatever the hell it was he wanted to anyway. Given the fury framing his eyes, I had to give it a shot.

“What the hell, man...” I made sure he was looking directly in my eyes as I spoke. If he wasn’t, he likely wasn’t hearing me.

“Nothing, I just ... gotta sit this one out, okay?” His glare rose back over my shoulder. I looked to find him eyeing the guy who was still talking to Georgia, even as she served customers around him.

His accent was thicker than usual, which meant one of two things. Either he was drunk, though I knew he wasn’t. Or, unfortunately, he was looking for a fight.

“Want me to go over with you?” Bo and Ember were ready to play “Foolish Games” so I could play or sit out, as well.

He shook his head, setting a firm, hot hand on my shoulder. “No, it’s cool.”

“CJ...”

“Regan, I’m not seventeen, okay? You don’t need to hold my hand. I just need to ... just let it go.” He gave my shoulder a squeeze that I’m sure he meant as reassuring, but it wasn’t.

I watched him edge his way to the bar, but he went nowhere near Georgia, or her end of the bar. He sat on the far side, but never took his eyes off the guy I’d only seen once before, and was fairly certain CJ didn’t know.

“Hey,” Bo stepped between me and Ember, who I didn’t realize had taken her seat next to me, “what’s his deal?”

“God, who the fuck knows? He insists he’s fine.”

“Well, whatever,” Ember sounded irritated still, “we’ve only played one song and we’ve officially been on stage for like eight minutes. This shit’s unacceptable. Let’s goooo.”

I arched an eyebrow in her direction as I looked at Bo, who just shrugged with a slight grey expression pulling over his face.

What the hell was up with everyone tonight?

“Okay,” I sighed, “‘Foolish Games’?”

“Yep.” Ember nodded, settling onto her stool. She usually stood while she sang, but she always, 
always
 sat for this song. It was like it was too much emotion, or something.

“Let’s go.” I winked at Ember as I mocked her tone from earlier. She allowed a small smile, gave Bo a thumbs up, and he began the piano intro.

BOOK: Sweet Forty-Two
8.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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