In the Lyrics (36 page)

Her hand reaches up and grasps me around my neck. Begging myself not to lose my cool, I remember what her touch felt like. The feeling has been burned into my memory. My body stiffens as her lips meet mine. It’s a foreign feeling at first, but then I get used to her tongue roaming my mouth, not missing a lap. Her teeth nip at my bottom lip, just like she used to do. Knowing it drives me wild, I inhale her scent, remembering how things used to be between us. My brain must’ve shut off because I know if I was thinking clearly there is no way I’d let her stalk in here and own me like she is in this moment. Thinking with my heart and my cock, I push her backwards so she is lying on the floor. Her hair is sprawled out all around her head, and her mascaraed eyelashes are so long they’re touching her eyebrows. She is breathtakingly beautiful. She’s here, but she’s not mine.

Emotion floods me as I recall the countless emails she didn’t answer, the messages that were ignored, and the flowers she never said thank you for. Anger replaces my need and desire to be close to her. But she’s right. At least we had one last kiss. Now we can both lay what was us to rest.

My lips part as I pull away from her embrace. “It’s too late to call a cab, and you’re still too drunk to drive. Give me a few minutes to lock up and I’ll take you home.”

Disappointment spreads across her flawless face. It’s a shitty feeling knowing I put it there, but it’s an even worse feeling knowing she crushed me without an explanation, a sorry, or a goodbye. She doesn’t protest though, not like the old Hensley would have, the girl with the attitude and foul mouth. Instead this version of herself stands up, dusts her clothes off, and nods with a small smile.

Walking towards the back office, I set the alarm and grab my jacket. When I come out, she’s still standing in the same place, except her hand is covering her face. I hope to God she isn’t crying. Hearing a woman you love cry is the worst thing in the entire world.

A woman you love? Holy shit, pull yourself together!

“Hensley, are you ready?” I try to hide my true feelings and appear as cold and distant as possible.

Moving her hand away from her face, she looks up and smiles. Long gone is the sad face she wore only moments ago. I wish I could pull myself together and stow my feelings as quickly as she just did.

“Yes, I’m ready.”

The drive to her house is a quiet one. There’s so much that could be said, but I don’t make the first move. Why should I? And why do I keep questioning myself and everything I’m feeling right now?

“I’m glad your mom left the light on. Be careful walking in.”

Tilting her head to the side she says, “Remember when I left, you said you’d always leave the light on for me?”

Damn her.

“So you’d be able to find your way home…”

Licking her lips, she sighs. “Is your porch light on, Colby?”

Turning away from her, I look out my window to the porch light shining brightly. I don’t know how to respond. Honestly, I don’t even know if my porch light
is
on. Brittani says it wastes electricity and since she pays half of the bill, she doesn’t think it needs to be on all the time. Now if she’s not literally asking me, and figuratively asking, the answer would be yes. The light in my heart is on, it’s always on. Even when it dims from the pain of her absence, it’s on – burning, waiting to guide her home.

“No, Sunshine, it’s not on.” I lie like a damn fool. “You’d better go. I don’t want your mom checking on you and you not being there. She’s been through enough…we all have.”

Opening her door, she pauses to say something, but decides not to. I watch as she walks up her driveway and up her porch steps. Before I drive off, she turns the porch light off.

“BRITTANI, WHERE ARE my pants I wore on Saturday?” I shout from the bedroom.

Turning the corner, she tosses my folded jeans onto the bed in front of me.

“Thanks. Did you wash them?” I’m curious if she found Hensley’s number in my pocket.

“I’m not your damn momma, but yes I did.”

Hmm, it’s unlike her to find something so alarming in my pocket and not say anything. Trying to cover up my tracks, I feed her a small lie, “Oh, shit. Mitch gave me a number to a few artists I’m supposed to call and get booked for a gig. Did you find it in my pocket?”

“Nope. Sorry, they were all empty. Gotta run. Bye!” Spinning on her heels, she hauls ass out of my bedroom.

Rushing out the bedroom door, she confirms that it was in there. I’m not a fool, and she’s tried to lie and play me before. I’ve learned all of her deceitful tricks.
What the hell would she do with it?
As soon as I hear the apartment door shut, I walk out of my room and across the hall to hers – Dusty’s old room.

Rummaging through her drawers, I come up empty handed and pissed.

NURSING A HANGOVER isn’t fun. Actually, it’s hell. I mean, why on earth would someone consume something that’s going to make them feel like they have the flu and the biggest migraine of their lives all at once? Running to the bathroom for the third time this morning, I hear the buzzing of my cell phone rattling in my purse.

Debating not answering it, I know I have some explaining to do to Robert. I just don’t know if I’m ready to yet. He’s probably all types of mad at me for leaving the day of our magazine cover shoot, but this was a family emergency. Closing my eyes, I can picture him standing in his suit looking at his expensive watch and counting down the minutes until I’m back in California.

Opening my purse, I grab my cell phone, notice that the battery is on nine percent, crawl back to my bed, and plug it in behind the nightstand. There’s a new text message, and the number listed has my parents’ area code.

“Mitch?” I question myself out loud. Sliding the icon over, the message appears, and my jaw drops to the floor.

Welcome back, bitch. I don’t know why my boyfriend would have your number stuffed in his pocket, but just so we’re on the same page here, Colby is mine. You left him and I found him. So back off and consider this your only warning.

Anger explodes in my veins like an erupting volcano. My mind races as my fingers work hard to keep up with it.

Who is this?

I finally manage to type and then hit send.

Several seconds later, the phone chimes in my hand.

Brittani.

The bile that I’ve been desperately trying to keep down all morning rises in my throat. Just the sound of saying her name out loud makes me want to puke, but even more so hearing she and Colby are dating.
Why on earth would he stoop so low? Did I really leave him that broken that all he thinks he can get with is someone like her? Doesn’t he know I’m here? I still love him. I never stopped.
Leaning my head over my mattress, the contents of my stomach empty out onto my wooden floor. Mom will kill me, but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Jumping up, I wipe my mouth off, then grab some towels and clean up my mess.

I guess it’s true that when it rains, it pours. My dad just died, and now I learn that my ex-boyfriend, the only person I’ve ever loved, is dating a tramp. No, Brittani is a hundred times worse than a tramp. She’s so gross my mind can’t even name a word that describes her.

Walking towards the bathroom, I stuff my puke-stained towels in the trash can and start the shower. Stepping in, the water is scalding, but does nothing to erase the image of him with her as the water beats down on my naked back.

“Hensley,” my mother’s voice calls from behind the locked bathroom door. “Are you okay? It stinks in your room.”

“Yeah, Mom. I’m fine,” I shout over the running water.

“I’m going to run out for a few and stock up on some groceries. Mrs. Blair left some flowers on the porch with a note asking if you’d stop by and see her. I think she’d really appreciate it.”

Lathering the shampoo in my hair, I yell, “Okay. Be careful.” She doesn’t say anything else, which is good. My head is still throbbing and my stomach is still turning from the news.

After my shower, I get dressed and decide to leave my phone on the charger. The only person that would need to reach me other than Robert, whom I’m ignoring, is Mom, and as she so nicely guilted me into it, she knows where to find me.

MY MOM’S CAR is still parked at Mitch’s, so I decide to open the garage and see if old Betsy still runs. It’s only been a little under a year since she’s been driven, so I don’t see why she wouldn’t. She’s never failed me before. Turning her over a couple of times, the engine roars. I stop and fill her gas tank up before heading towards the farm. Keeping my head down as I pump my gas, I try and blend in as much as possible.

Driving up the steep hill, Whispering Hills is a sight for sore eyes. Everything looks the same except the overgrown grass. Wondering where Logan is these days, I see Mrs. Blair standing on the front porch waving me towards their house instead of the center.

Stepping out of the car, she greets me with open arms. “It’s so nice to see a friendly face around here.”

“It’s nice to see you too, Mrs. Blair. How have you been?”

Shrugging her shoulders she seems saddened by my question. “I’ve been here. But that’s enough about me, please come in. Oh, honey, I’m so sorry to hear about your father. He was a good man, a hard worker, and a great father. Please accept my condolences.” She reaches to grab my hand. “Now I just made a fresh pitcher of sweet tea this morning. I was hoping you’d get my flowers and decide to stop by. Come sit down in here with me.”

Following her to the small kitchen table, I sit in the chair across from her. “Where’s Logan these days? It’s been a while since I talked to him.”

“He’s been great. He’s actually teaching riding lessons down at the fairgrounds as we speak, and finishing up his student teaching.” A giant smile spreads across her face and I can tell she is extremely proud of her son.

“Student teaching? Wow, what an accomplishment. I remember him very rarely attending classes,” I laugh. “I guess he changed, for the better. You should be really proud of him and of what a good job you did raising him.”

“I really am. He’s grown so much and he’s really accepted his daddy’s new girlfriend. I’m blessed he didn’t let the divorce hinder his college education,” she admits.

Stop the clock.

“Divorce? I’m really sorry, Mrs. Blair, but this is news to me.”

Resting her hand on my knee, she inhales a deep breath. “Honey, don’t be sorry. I’m not. That cheating bastard was just a heartache waiting to happen. With him gone, I feel like I can finally breathe. It’s a shame I found him, oh, what do you kids call it these days, shacking up?” I sigh. “It’s a shame that he cheated. If he wasn’t happy he could have let me know. Instead he committed adultery and left me here to tend to this farm all alone. I’m sure you noticed it’s not quite the same place it used to be. But that’s okay. We’ll get back on our feet. If it weren’t for Colby, the horses wouldn’t even be tended to daily.”

His name sends chills down my spine, in the best way imaginable.

“Colby,” I choke. “He still works here?”

“Oh yes, ma’am, he does. For free of course. He wouldn’t accept a dime from me. Trust me, I’ve tried. Instead, I make him a pitcher of sweet tea and lunch every day. Actually it’s about eleven now. He should be coming in any time. He likes to get things done in the morning, so he can work at the bar at night.”