Song Chaser (Chasers) (10 page)

And after.

And during.

And just pretty much all the fucking time.

Messy

Tanner

“Alright, your turn,” I take another swig of my beer and pull Kellee in closer, breathing in the cool, crisp city air. I absentmindedly run my fingers through her hair, catching her scent every now and then in the wind. She always smells so damn good, like bubblegum and the beach. It’s funny, she’s from upstate New York, but I swear she reminds me of Florida.

The last week and a half has
dragged by, mostly because for once I have actually been distracted from the hospital. Usually, I go in for extra hours. I clock in early and never leave when I’m supposed to. But now, it’s all I can do to not stare at the clock between patients, counting the minutes until I get to see Kellee. My schoolwork has fallen behind a little, which is definitely not like me, and I’m pretty sure my abs are going to turn into a beer gut for all the gym time I’ve missed – but I can’t help it. My best days are with Kellee, and any nights without her feel like endless black holes. I can’t figure out what it is, but this girl has me under a fucking spell.

Today was probably the longest day so far. I woke up to a text from Paisley with the details for tomorrow night. She landed at the JFK airport this morning, and something about knowing she’s in the same city as me instantly put me on edge. All day I’ve been wound tighter than a fucking lynch rope, but the minute Kellee opened her door and I saw her long blonde hair curled, her freckles dancing on her skin, her jeans painted on so tight it’s not even fair – well, let’s just say I forgot about everything else.

“Hmm, let’s see…” Kellee’s head is resting on my chest as we swing in the makeshift hammock we hung in the garden rooftop of her apartment building. It’s pretty much abandoned, the plants dying out much like the foliage in the High Line, but Kellee has been watering the ones still living and adding plants of her own. It’s not much of a rooftop, very small, but alone up here with her – it feels like our own personal paradise in the city.

We’re playing 21 Questions and as much as I’d rather be playing a completely different type of game with her, I’m actually enjoying learning
more about her. Each question she answers lets me inside a little more. She usually strays away from the tough ones, but I’ve learned that her favorite color is yellow, she used to have a stuffed animal squirrel that she dragged everywhere with her, she loves music more than anything and hates majoring in business when she would rather major in music education, and she has a fear of toilet paper sticking to her shoe in a public place.

So basically, she’s fucking adorable.

She did get a little deep when she told me why she doesn’t drink. Just like she said at the High Line, she has drank before, but it’s not her thing. Apparently her mom started drinking pretty heavily in the last few months before she left. I can’t say it was a surprise when she told me. I haven’t met many people who aren’t drinkers, but the ones who aren’t usually associate drinking with a negative experience. At least Kellee isn’t bitchy about it. I don’t know if I could give up my Jack and Coke.

Well, unless she really asked me to.

And begged with those pretty pouty lips of hers.

Maybe got down on her knees…

“Oh okay, I don’t think you’ve told me this yet. When you were little, what did you want to be when you grew up?” Kellee asks, snapping me back to the moment.

I smile, pulling the blanket up over us a little more
, adjusting myself as coyly as I can since the image of her on her knees is still playing in my head. It’s just cold enough that we can see our breath slightly as it floats above us with each word. The stars aren’t very bright in the city, but the higher you get – the more you can see them. I’ve never really star gazed in New York City before, but I’m pretty sure the stars are shining brighter tonight than they ever did when I was at school in Florida. The only place that might compare is home, but then again there are few places that have a better view of the stars than middle-of-nowhere Georgia.

“I wanted to be exactly what I am right now.”

“What? Cuddled up in a blanket with a girl?” She peers up at me and my smile grows wider.

“Well no, but I’m sure it would have been part of the plan at some point,” I wink and pull her in closer. “But what I meant was that I’ve always wanted to go to school to be a doctor. I didn’t realize I wanted to work in pediatrics until I was in high school, but I always knew I wanted to be a doctor like my dad. I looked up to him so much when I was growing up – I still do, really. He just has his shit together, he taught me the kind of man I want to be.”

“He sounds like a great man,” Kellee says, but it’s so hard to focus on her words when I feel her pressing closer to me. Her body is fucking intoxicating. “I respect you for wanting to work with kids. I love my little cousins, but I’ve been on birth control since I was sixteen because there’s no way I could handle having something so small and innocent depend on me right now. I think it’s sweet that you want to be a part of kids’ lives.”

I laugh, “Was that your subtle way of letting me know you’re on birth control, Frecks?”
She blushes harder than I’ve ever seen before and I poke her side playfully. “I’m just kidding. But you’re right, my dad is a pretty great guy. It sounds like your dad is, too.”

“Yeah, he really is,” she hesitates a moment b
efore continuing. “I just wish he would support me out here, I wish he didn’t see me like he sees my mom.”

I tilt her chin up so her eyes meet mine, “He will. Give him time, he’ll realize that you did what you needed to do, and that it was the best move you made.”

She shakes her head, “I don’t think time is going to help. It’s been over three years.”

“Just wait, he’ll come aroun
d. No one could turn their back on a daughter like you.”

She smiles softly, “You really are kind of sweet, Tanner West.”

“Don’t tell anyone,” I reply, lifting her lips to meet mine. I kiss her lips softly, running my fingers through her curls. Sweet is definitely not a word I would use to describe myself. I think this girl sees more of the good in me than really exists.

Kellee pulls back, her lips flushed, “Your turn, slick.”

“I think you kind of like playing 21 Questions.”

Her eyes catch the moonlight and glimmer as her lips turn up into a beautiful smile, “Yeah, I guess so. Maybe I should change my major and be a professional interrogator.”

I laugh, “I don’t think anyone would be opposed to being locked in a room with you for hours on end.”

She nudges me playfully, “Hit me with your question.”

“Okay. Who have you not seen in concert yet that you want to see?”

“Oh man, I have to pick just one?”

“Yep. The one you want to see the most.”

She scrunches up her nose and forehead in deep concentration. It’s so fucking cute I really want to just kiss her again and drop the questions thing, but I also really want to know more about her. My brain is in a raging war with my hormones right now.

“Well, it’s really hard to limit it down to just one because there are so many I still want to see, but my favorite band of all time is The Loner Boys. I think I would pass out if I ever got to see them.”

No. Fucking. Way.

Did this girl just say she loves The Loner Boys? As in my favorite band of all time?

“I can’t believe you just said that,” I say, shaking my head. “I fucking love The Loner Boys. I seriously don’t even have one other friend who knows who they are, not even the guys who hang out at the High Line.”

She shrugs, “I guess I’m just different.” She looks up at me again, smiling. The cool air combines with the moonlight to illuminate her skin and her lips are practically begging me to kiss them again. She’s so fucking beautiful.

“
You’re not just different, you’re exceptional. And I think it’s time that I make you feel that way, too.” I lick my lower lip before pulling her into me again. She laughs against my kiss and pushes on my chest lightly.

“W
ait. I want one more question. You’ve had seven and I’ve only had six.”

I groan, “You’re killing me here.”

“Please,” she draws out the word and gives me her best puppy eyes. “Just one more.”

I throw up my hands in surrender and she smiles, kissing me quickly before leaning up on her elbow to look in my eyes. She’s chewing the inside of her cheek, like she’s nervous about what she’s about to ask. I’m really hoping she’s not going to ask how many girls I’ve been with. I’m not ready to go there with her and I don’t think she really wants the answer, either.

Finally, she exhales and a little cloud of her breath filters up around us. “I want you to tell me what it was about Paisley that you loved.”

Shit. I change my mind, ask me how many girls I’ve been with.

“That’s not a question.”

She rolls her eyes, “Tanner, what was it about Paisley that made you fall in love with her?”

I sigh, leaning up a little and pulling Kellee on my lap. She’s straddling me now and I have to remind myself again to focus on the question at hand, but honestly it’s the last thing I want to talk about. My cock is one frictional move away from standing at full attention.

Down, boy.

“Frecks, I don’t think we should talk about this, not right now. I’ve had such a shitty day and the only thing that’s made it better is being here with you right now. I don’t want to ruin that by talking about another girl.”

Kellee smiles softly, but keeps her persistence. “I know, I’m having a good night, too. But Tanner, I need to know more about her. I’m going to meet this girl tomorrow and it scares the hell out of me,” she says, biting her lower lip. “And if there’s ever going to be an us, like I hope there is, then I need to know about your past. Especially about her.”

I can’t help it, a shit-eating grin spreads on my face and I pull her a little closer. “You want there to be an us?”

She laughs, “Yes. Well, maybe – depends on how long I can stand to put up
with your shitty pick-up lines.”

“You love my pick-
up lines.”

“And you’re avoiding the question.”

I sigh again, realizing I’m not going to win this argument. “Okay, fine.” Where do I even start? Why
did
I fall in love with Paisley?

Then I realize, I really didn’t have a choice.

“It wasn’t something I planned, falling for her. When we first met, she fit into the girl best friend category perfectly. She was always there for me when I needed her and there was no pressure to be anything I wasn’t,” I bite my lip as Kellee’s face changes. I know this can’t be easy for her to hear. “Are you sure you want to talk about this?”

Kellee nods, “I’m fine, Tanner. I want to know.”

“Okay,” I continue, still not sure. “Ever since I was really young, I’ve always wondered about my favorite songs. I’ve been obsessed with music ever since I can remember, and I was even more into the lyrics. I was always questioning them. What girl was each song written for? Does every artist have a girl in mind, or do they just write to an imaginary muse? Well, I started dreaming of my perfect girl, of what she would look like and act like. One night, Paisley and I were out together and I just remember one of my favorite songs came on and literally every lyric reminded me of her. After that, every song that I listened to made me think of her in some way or another. It was like all at once, everything I had been looking for in my perfect song, in my perfect girl, was right there in front of me.”

“But I was too scared to tell her,” I admit, looking down at the fabric of the soft navy blue blanket I packed for tonight. “And when I finally got the balls to say something, I was too late. I took her to our favorite spot, I had everything planned in my head, and then I saw that she was texting another guy. I thought he was just going to be another one of her flings that I’d have to wait through, but the longer I watched how she acted with him, th
e more I knew. I was too late. He had her.”

I swallow hard, not sure what else to say. It’s hard to find words to explain why you love someone, they don’t make words with that much passion. And even if they did, there isn’t a perfect combination of syllables and sounds to create a word strong enough to explain love. Love is just a filler word, a useless word that tries to do a job that no word can.

“You said that Paisley kind of called herself a Tag Chaser, right?”

I nod, still wrapped in my thoughts.

“Well, so I guess you’re kind of like a Song Chaser,” I look up at her, my eyebrows raised in confusion as she continues. “She chased military men to escape commitment. You, on the other hand, chase the perfect girl to fit your songs. So it’s kind of like you’re both chasing something, just not the same something.”

I tilt my head and think on her assessment. I guess it’s a valid point, though I’ve never really thought of it that way. I’ve been called a lot of things, mostly along the lines of “asshole”, but a chaser is not one of them.
I don’t chase women, they chase me.

Well, all of them but Paisley, anyway.