Lick (Stage Dive, #1)(71)

“I’m so sorry.”

“’S’okay.” From his back jeans pocket came a ringing noise.

“I’ll get it.” Carefully, I extracted his phone. The name flashing on screen stopped me cold. The universe had to be playing a prank. Surely. Except it wasn’t. It was just the same old heartbreak playing out all over again inside of me. I could already feel the ice-cold numbness spreading through my veins.

“It’s her.” I held the phone out to him.

Above the ball of bloody toilet paper his nose looked wounded, but intact. Violence wasn’t going to help. No matter the anger working through me, winding me up just then.

His gaze jumped from the screen to me. “Ev.”

“You should go. I want you to go.”

“I haven’t talked to Martha since that night. I’ve had nothing to do with her.”

I shook my head, out of words. The phone ringed shrilly, the noise piercing my eardrums. It echoed on and on inside the small bathroom. It vibrated in my hand and my whole body trembled. “Take it before I break it.”

Bloodstained fingers took it from my hand.

“You gotta let me explain,” he said. “I promise, she’s gone.”

“Then why is she calling you?”

“I don’t know and I’m not answering. I haven’t spoken to her once since I fired her. You gotta believe me.”

“But I don’t. I mean, how can I?”

He blinked pained eyes at me. We just stared at one another as realization dawned. This wasn’t going to work. This had never been going to work. He was always secrets and lies and I was always on the outside looking in. Nothing had changed. My heart was breaking all over again. Surprising, really, that there was enough of it left to worry over.

“Just go,” I said, my stupid eyes welling up.

Without another word he walked out.





CHAPTER NINETEEN




David and I didn’t speak after that. But every afternoon after work he was there, waiting across the street. He’d be watching me from beneath the brim of his baseball cap. All ready to stalk me home safely. It pissed me off, but in no way did I feel threatened. I’d ignored him for three days as he trailed me. Today was day number four. He’d traded his usual black jeans for blue, boots for sneakers. Even from a distance, his upper lip and nose looked bruised. The paparazzi were still missing in action, though today someone had asked me if he was in town. His days of moving around Portland unknown were probably coming to an end. I wondered if he knew.

When I didn’t just ignore him as per my usual modus operandi, he took a step forward. Then stopped. A truck passed between us among a steady stream of city traffic. This was crazy. Why was he still here? Why hadn’t he just gone back to Martha? Moving on was impossible with him here.

Decision half made, I rushed across during the next break in traffic, meeting him on the opposite sidewalk.

“Hi,” I said, not fussing with strap on my bag at all. “What are you doing here, David?”

He stuffed his hands in his pockets, looked around. “I’m walking you home. Same as I do every day.”

“This is your life now?”

“Guess so.”

“Huh,” I said, summing up the situation perfectly. “Why don’t you go back to LA?”

Blue eyes watched me warily and he didn’t answer at first. “My wife lives in Portland.”

My heart stuttered. The simplicity of the statement and the sincerity in his eyes caught me off guard. I wasn’t nearly as immune to him as I should have been. “We can’t keep doing this.”

He studied the street, not me, his shoulders hunched over. “Will you walk with me, Ev?”

I nodded. We walked. Neither of us rushed, instead strolling past shopfronts and restaurants, peering into bars just getting going for the evening. I had a bad feeling that once we stopped walking we’d have to start talking, so dawdling suited me fine. Summer nights meant there were a fair number of people around.

An Irish bar sat on a street corner about halfway home. Music blared out, some old song by The White Stripes. Hands still stuffed into his pockets, David gestured toward the bar with an elbow. “Wanna get a drink?”

It took me a moment to find my voice. “Sure.”

He led me straight to a table at the back, away from the growing crowd of post-work drinkers. He ordered two pints of Guinness. Once they arrived, we sat in silence, sipping. After a moment, David took off his cap and set it on the table. Shit, his poor face. I could see it more clearly now and he looked like he had two black eyes.

We sat there staring at one another in some bizarre sort of standoff. Neither of us spoke. The way he looked at me, like he’d been hurt too, like he was hurting … I couldn’t take it. Waiting to drag this whole sorry mess of a relationship out into the light wasn’t helping either of us. Time for a new plan. We’d clear the air then get on with our respective lives. No more hurt and heartache. “You wanted to tell me about her?” I prompted, sitting up straighter, preparing myself for the worst.

“Yeah. Martha and I were together a long time. You probably already know, she was the one who cheated on me. The one we talked about.”

I nodded.

“We started the band when I was fourteen, Mal and Jimmy and me. Ben joined a year later and she’d hang around too. They were like family,” he said, brow puckered. “They are family. Even when things went bad I couldn’t just turn my back on her …”