Just One Week (Just One Song) (13 page)

Sammy and I flash each other a look on our way out of the store and throw our arms around her neck. “One time in two years the man has been mad at you? I think you’re doing pretty good, girl.”

Nic gives me a kiss on the cheek and we pull apart, waiting for Darren to show up to take us to the spa for our manicures and pedicures.

I look back to see Melody smiling and shaking her head at us. We may be in our late twenties but when Nicole and I get together, we possess the ability to party like the sorority girls we never were. Sometimes. It hasn’t always been easy, but Zack re-awakened a side of Nicole that was long missing and I freaking love him for it.

We hug Sammy, and Melody gives me and Nic kisses on our cheeks. I absolutely adore this woman. When she reaches Nicole, she leans in and whispers something. I don’t know what it is, but when she pulls away, both women have happy goofy smiles on their faces and tears in their eyes.

She reaches me and cups my cheeks with her hands. “I love you almost as much as I love my own two girls,” she says nodding to Nic and Sammy. It almost makes me cry, knowing she loves Nic so much. “Perhaps someday we’ll be doing this same thing for you and Chase.”

I open my mouth to argue with her but she skewers me with that look again so I snap my mouth shut quickly. I glance to Sammy and Nic, hoping for some back up but all I see are smug little grins as they bite back their laughter.

They all suck.

“So are you going to tell me why you’re avoiding Chase now?”

I frown at my best friend before looking down at the technician scrubbing my feet. Nic and I are sitting in some posh spa in Malibu being massaged, and having manicures and pedicures done for her wedding. It’s part of my gift to her, but now that she’s brought up Chase, I sort of want to shove her head into the pool of water at our feet. Not to drown her, just until she panics a little bit.

“I’m not avoiding him.” I’m a liar. I’ve totally been avoiding Chase since we got back a couple of days ago. I’ve danced around him as much as possible, only talking to him when someone else is around. The only time I really see him is when we go to bed and that’s only because I don’t want to make him mad by going back to my old room.

He pulls me to chest, nests his chin on my shoulder, and holds me all night long. I let him because he seems to need it.

And because I like the way it makes me feel. Safe. Comforted.

Nicole snorts. She has this unattractive snorting sound she makes when she won’t just come right out and call bullshit. Just when I think she’s going to let it go, she doesn’t.

“At least tell me what happened in Napa. I was so sure you guys would get together.”

We did. Several times. The sex, like always, was fabulous. I don’t think that’s what she wants to know, though.

“He told me he might be in love with me. And then said he’s pretty sure he is, but is too afraid of saying it to me right now.”

“And you said?” she asks me with a raised eyebrow, the tip of her champagne glass frozen at her lips.

“Nothing.”

Her eyes go wide. “Chase proclaims his love to you and you say nothing? Why the hell not?”

I shoot her a look. “You know why, Nic. I’m not interested in settling down and marrying someone. It’s just not me.”

She heaves an exasperated sigh. Her eyes turn sad. “I know you like to think that you’re this independent woman who doesn’t need a man and just likes to have fun with guys, but you haven’t fooled me, Mia.” I raise an eyebrow at her declaration. “You’re afraid of ending up like your mom and dad.”

“And you after Mark and Andrew.” I squeeze my eyes shut immediately. I can’t believe I just threw the deaths of my best friend’s first husband and son in her face like this. It hurts her instantly. I can see the pain of my words radiating in her eyes when I open my eyes. She has tears in her eyes and turns away from me. “I’m so sorry, Nic. I didn’t mean that.”

She wipes under her eyes and it’s official. I’m the world’s shittiest best friend, ever.

“Yeah, you did,” she says after several minutes of the most awkward silence in the history of our friendship. “But you’re not me, and Chase isn’t your dad. You’re both stronger than that, and if memory serves correctly, you kicked my ass into living again after Mark and Andrew died. Don’t you think I would do the same for you if something horrible did happen?”

“I just don’t want either one of us ending up a drunken mess, huddled in a corner, afraid to live when everything ends.”

“I never knew you were such a pussy.” She smacks her lips together with a vicious little grin on her lips, trying to get me riled up. She knows me too well. I open my mouth to say something, anything, to tell her I’m not a pussy and I’m not afraid, but she’s right. I watch as she gulps down the rest of her mimosa and waves her free hand in the air, finally letting this go. “This talk is depressing me, and I’m getting married in a few days. I need to believe a happily ever after is possible, so I won’t talk about your stupidity anymore. But stop avoiding Chase because I don’t need two miserable people standing up with us at our wedding. Okay?”

I nod, understanding what she’s saying, right as my cell phone buzzes. A weight sinks into my stomach when I see Marcia’s name. While I’ve been avoiding Chase the last few days, I’ve been holed up in my bedroom, searching for jobs and emailing all the contacts I have in New York. So far, I haven’t heard anything remotely promising.

Marcia hasn’t either.

Haven’t heard or found anyone yet looking to hire. Everyone’s too involved with fashion week. Something will turn up soon, keep your head up. And bang a drummer. ;-)

The last little bit about Chase makes me smile, for just a second, but the rest is just depressing. What am I going to do if I can’t find another job?

“What has you so upset?”

I put my phone away and see the concerned look on Nic’s face. I shake my head. “Just work stuff; nothing important.”

She purses her lips and stares me down. I’ve never been so thankful in my life to have a pedicure end.

Chase is apparently tired of me avoiding him, too. When we get back to Zack’s house, he’s waiting for us outside the front door; arms crossed and feet spread apart, looking like a soldier standing post. He’s wearing a black short-sleeve Eagles t-shirt. It’s fitted skin-tight across his chest and biceps, and he has on the same jeans he wore on our date the other day. He’s also scowling. At me.

“Well he looks happy to see you,” Nic whispers into my ear once we climb out of the car. “I’m just going to go inside and let you talk.”

She hustles away from me, stopping when she gets to Chase, and places an arm on his shoulder. The only movement he makes is his eyes as he glances over to her when she leans in and whispers something. Whatever she says makes him relax. I see his chest rise and fall, he nods once, and then his hands go limp at his sides.

Nic skips inside and flashes me a smile right before she goes inside. I scowl at her. It gives me just enough time to take a deep breath and settle the nerves fluttering in my stomach.

“Come walk with me,” Chase says once I finally bring my eyes to him. He sounds sad. I look down at my feet, nodding, and walk to him. When I reach him, he places his fingers gently on my chin and lifts my chin. I straighten my shoulders, not realizing that my shoulders were slumped over too. I feel like a pathetic puppy. “I’m not mad at you. I just want to talk to you.”

He takes my hand and we walk around Zack’s house, back to the patio and down to the beach saying nothing. I feel like I should apologize. Tell him I’m sorry for ruining the end of our weekend and the last few days when I’d promised him I was all in. I should tell him that I care about him, too, and that I’m sorry for hurting him in Napa.

But I can’t say any of those things, and I hate that I can’t bring myself to be honest with him.

“I’m sorry,” Chase finally says once we’re on the beach. He doesn’t even look at me. Instead, his eyes are trained on the ocean. He’s looking out into the middle of nowhere.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” It barely comes out as a whisper.

“Yeah I do. I knew it’d scare you, I knew you weren’t ready to hear how I feel. I was just caught up in the moment, feeling you in my arms and lost in how good you feel, how good I feel when I’m with you.”

“Chase …” I stop. I have nothing to say. He looks vulnerable and he still won’t look at me. I’m not sure I can look at him either because I feel just as vulnerable as he looks. I take a step so I’m in front of him, placing my back to his chest, and pull his arms so they wrap around me. We’re staring out into the ocean, watching the waves roll, the sun high in the sky. It’s so peaceful out here. I never feel this quiet when I’m in New York. There’s always so much noise from the people, the cars, and the honking. The lights are always on and someone is always moving. This place is peaceful.

“I really love being here.” His arms tighten around me and I hope he understands that I’m not just talking about the beach. But that I mean with him, in his arms, surrounded by him. His chin rests on the top of my head and we stand there silently, both of us lost in our own thoughts.

“My parents died when I was nine.” His words are sad and I find myself leaning into him even closer. My hands reach up and cover his hands that are still wrapped around my waist. “I had great foster parents. You hear all sorts of horrible stories about kids growing up in the system, but nothing like that ever happened to me. I was a sad kid, and Carol and Paul were patient with me. They cared about me, but I never felt like I belonged. I always felt like loving them was betraying my parents. I didn’t care about anyone until I met Zack and him and Jake and I started the band. I’ve never loved anyone since my parents died.” His unspoken words of ‘until you’ hang in there between us. I swallow slowly, almost expecting him to say them but he doesn’t.

“What happened to your foster parents?” I’ve never heard him talk about them.

“They still live in L.A. I went about six years without talking to them. They were disappointed when I dropped out of college, and I told them they weren’t my parents and had no right to tell me what to do.” The sadness in his voice makes me want to cry. I can feel the disappointment he feels by being so hard on the people who took him in and cared for him after his parents died. “We talked again after our first tour. Carol cried and told me how proud she was of me. We’re not close, really, but we talk occasionally. They have their house full of more kids now.”

He sighs. I can feel his emotional exhale, blowing the hair on the top of my head. I feel like there’s a lesson he’s trying to tell me about him and me but I don’t want to dig deep enough to understand.

I don’t know where my next words comes from, but they start tumbling out of my mouth before I can pull them back and tuck them safely away. “My dad became an alcoholic when my mom got sick. She was in a hospital for months, and then stuck in her room in a hospital bed for almost a year after that. We all thought she was going to die and my dad totally shut down. He was the perfect dad before then. After that though, it’s like he just died. He started drinking all the time. He was either passed out or wasted, but either way he was completely useless. Elijah took over everything. He helped me with my homework, got me ready for school, took over the grocery shopping; he did everything our parents should have been able to do for us.”

I stop when I realize I have tears flowing down my cheeks and Chase is squeezing me so tightly his arms are shaking. “We survived on pop tarts and frozen dinners and the occasional meal from Nic’s mom, Sharon. Somehow, my mom got better. The doctors called it a miracle, and no one could explain it. My dad didn’t recover. We got my mom back, but dad is still gone.”

I take a deep breath. It’s shaky and I can hear it in my own ears. “Someone always dies or leaves, Chase. My dad, Andrew and Mark … your parents.”

I feel his lips on the top of my head. He presses them to me and we stand there, silently, both now aware of each other’s fears. The confessions between us feel like obstacles that can’t be climbed. He hugs me tighter and I press a light kiss on his bicep. His lips leave my forehead and we continue staring out into the vast open space in front of us until the sun starts setting.