You'd Be Mine(43)

His enthusiasm is catching and I ask, “What’s the prize?”

“Bragging rights?”

“You’re on,” I say.

We split up, and I read the inscription under the first gemstone. Fool’s gold, or pyrite. I skim the bottom of the “cave floor,” dragging my fingers through a bin of stones that I’m positive are not found together in nature. From the clattering of rocks against cardboard, I know that Jefferson is doing the same.

“This is impossible in the dark,” I mutter.

“You just know you’re going to lose.”

“I’m pretty sure all the real gems have been stolen already,” I complain, picking at another black-colored rock-type object that feels suspiciously like plastic.

“I think I got one!” he yells triumphantly, running toward the only bit of light in the room, emitting from the gem display.

“Nuh-uh,” I say, dropping the stones at my feet and walking over to see.

“I did. It’s called…” He leans closer, and I follow. Suddenly, he drops the rock with a click, and his hands are holding the sides of my face. “It’s called ‘I just wanted to kiss you again, and Denise is running a scam.’”

“I’ve never heard of that one,” I say, leaning in.

“Oh, really? It’s become my new favorite,” he says before capturing my lips between his own in a way that doesn’t feel casual in the slightest.





16



Clay


friday, july 12

indianapolis, indiana

The first time I played in my hometown after hitting the big time was surreal. It was when “Clay” really took over. I couldn’t drive down my streets, sing to my old classmates, in a venue where I used to listen to all my favorites, while still being “Jefferson.” It didn’t work. I had to create someone they’d never met. Someone I’d never met, even. It wasn’t hard. My brother had recently died, and I’d already lost track of who I used to be by that point.

Beer chased the memories, and a solid buzz made Clay easier for me to stomach until I barely had to think about it. The girls helped in their way. I wasn’t always such a bastard. In the beginning, I remembered their names and kissed them on their mouths and paid for their drinks. But it quickly became apparent they didn’t care either way. None of the girls camping out backstage wanted a relationship. They weren’t looking for clumsy efforts at romance. They wanted bragging rights and an incriminating selfie for their Instagram.

So that’s what I gave them. When that got too exhausting, I would text Lora. She was even more effortless than the strangers. Or she would text me. Like she did today.

WHERE ARE YOU AT THIS WEEKEND?

I type INDY and wait.

If I’m expecting her to catch the significance of me being back in my hometown, I’m disappointed. Lora has no clue.

After a minute, she responds:

DAMN. NYC FOR THE WEEKEND. CATCH YOU IN VEGAS IN SEP?

I send her a thumbs-up and click the app shut. Probably for the best. Lora in Indy feels a little too real for comfort.

Fitz leans over my shoulder, tapping my screen where her kissing emoji response is still lit up.

I swat his hand half-heartedly. “Do you mind?”

He turns for the fridge, grabbing out a root beer and twisting the cap against his forearm to open.

“I thought you were done with Lora.”

“I am.”

He raises one brow, swallowing.

“I am done. It’s … well … coming back here. This stop always makes me edgy as fuck.”

“So does Lora, lately.”

“Yeah, well, she’s out of town anyway, so it’s a moot point.”

Fitz picks at the label on his bottle. The small window air-conditioning unit cycles on with a hum.

“Spit it out, Fitz.”

“I’m just trying to understand why you would even cater to the notion of another meaningless hookup with Lora when you’ve got Annie making doe eyes at you.”

“I’m not catering to anything. And she doesn’t make doe eyes at me.”

“So you told Lora to fuck off?”

I don’t answer.

Fitz nods. “I see. So you’re keeping her around just in case Annie rejects you.”

“The fuck?” I say.

“Classic Clay. Keep a flask in your pocket if things get too heavy and a girl on the line just the same.”

“It’s not like that with Annie.”

Fitz raises his brows. “Really. Indulge me. What’s it like, then?”

“I don’t know!” I shout, impatient. “It’s not like anything. We’ve just kissed a few times is all. She’s cool. I like spending time with her. I can be me around her. Jesus, why does it have to be more than that?”

Fitz stares at me a long minute before saying, “Because anything less than that isn’t enough.”

I blink, feeling shaken.

“I’m going to visit Danny tomorrow.” Fitz is changing gears, and I’m spinning to catch up.

“I’ll come with.”

He nods, not meeting my eyes.

“What?”

“You know that Mags throws a party every year at Taps in his memory?”