Page 26 of Reckless
8
Kelly
Standing on the sidewalk, I stared at the two beer mugs clinking together in a cheers gesture on the sign for Independence Pub. A zigzag of nerves darted through me. I’d been inside the rustic American-themed bar before, on more than one occasion, but tonight was different in every single way.
Tonight, I would be with Gage Strickland.
I considered how strange it would be. I used to dream about a time when we’d be old enough to have a date at a bar. I’d assumed drinking alcohol would make us glamorous and adultlike, we’d be past the dramas of high school, fulfilling our dreams, still together, still strong.
Now though, I felt more childish than I had when we were dating.
Gathering my courage, I pushed open the heavy wooden door that was supposed to remind one of patriots and pioneer days.
Once my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I caught a glimpse of myself in the bar mirror that was tilted so you could see your whole self. I immediately decided that the red floaty dress I’d agonized over was wrong. It clung to all the wrong places, showing a little bit too much cleavage, hugging my hips a little too tight. I looked like I was on that date from my fantasy, which was bad. Really bad. The dress was too much, made me look like I was a fangirl. I didn’t want Gage to think I wanted to impress him. Idid, I just didn’t need him to know that.
What if he thought I assumed we were out in a romantic sense and it got super awkward? This was the exact reason I should’ve gone with my initial instinct. Which had been to say no.
Actually, when Gage asked me, my immediate reaction had been to accept, to allow myself to slip into being in his company, slip back into the ease we’d had before. And that would be bad because everything had changed since he left. But I’d caved. I couldn’t seem to resist Gage, even after all this time. He needed me, and here I was, falling at his knees like some overwrought groupie.
Knees. God, that might have had something to do with why I was here. But I couldn’t let anything happen with him in that sense. I’d spent so much time getting over him, I couldn’t allow myself to backtrack now.
Leaving would be the better option. I could run for the hills and explain to him later that it just wasn’t a good idea. But my legs wouldn’t move. I couldn’t abandon him. Iwantedto be in his company.
“Hey there.” Gage’s happy tone grabbed me, and I spun around, my eyes landing on a slice of bare chiseled chest peeking out where he’d left the buttons undone. “I’m glad you’re here, I was starting to think you wouldn’t show.”
“To be honest, I thought about it. I’m not sure this is a good idea. But I wouldn’t do that to you.” There was a tinge of resentment in my tone that I couldn’t disguise.
“I was there.”
I squinted at him, unsure of what he meant. “What?”
“At their funeral.”
Anger clamped down on every muscle in my body, and I tried to keep from shaking. That was a lie. He hadn’t been, hadn’t showed. And I’d needed him so very much, even when I told him not to come. I’d never let myself need another person since.
“I walked in and there you were, an angel dressed in black standing there by your mom, in front of them, like you were guarding your dad and brother. Greeting people like you had it all together.” His eyes bored into mine until I was sure of his earnestness.
“I never saw you.”
“I didn’t want to upset you again, like you’d been that last night. And I couldn’t face it the way you had been able to do. They weren’t mine, but they were the only father and brother I’d ever had.” He placed his hand on my shoulder, the heat seeping through the thin material of the overdone dress, turning me toward a table. “Until the band, that is.”
Thankful to change the subject, I sat in the chair he pulled out and asked, “You’re close with your band?”
“It’s hard not to be living on a tour bus.” He smiled, and something in my chest broke loose, some part of me I wanted to hold on to because it protected me from wanting to be in his arms.
“Oh. I bet you’re never by yourself.”
“On the road, I’m never alone. If I’m not with the band members and the crew, there’s the fans, all the time. I’m thankful, truly, and I love the fans, but sometimes it’s a chore. It’s nice to be solo.”
The mention of fans reminded me of a more innocent time when we’d been mutually daydreaming about what could have been, and I’d assured him I wouldn’t get jealous of a constant stream of female attention should he ever hit it big. Now, I couldn’t even call him my own, and a feeling that was way too close to jealousy twisted in my gut.
“Well, you aren’t in New York now. You have friends here, not just fans.” What was wrong with me? Why had I said that? Was I offering to be his friend? Because that probably wasn’t a good idea either.
“Hmm, I can’t have too many of them.” His eyes fell on my lips, and his forehead turned down in a frown, but only for a second. “Hey, there’s a live band tonight. They should be setting up soon. I’ve heard some of their stuff and wanted to hear them in person. Thinking about giving them a boost.”
“You can do that? Help out a band?”
“I can recommend them to my label, give them a good word.”
