Life On Stage: Beat Part 28

Lucky

Music has always been the medicine to cure all of my ills. But these days, it's also the source of much of my anxiety. The cab line stretches almost a full city block in length outside of JFK; Pandora blasts through my headphones as I attempt to occupy my spinning mind with a soothing melody. But of course, the song that comes on would have to be an Easy Ryder song.

Things didn't go exactly as planned. After Dylan's proposal in the restaurant, and my not-exactly-yes-or-no hug, half the restaurant, it seemed, came over to congratulate us. I didn't want to embarra.s.s Dylan in public and say no while phone cameras were clicking and rolling, but it made clarifying that I hadn't said yes that much more difficult. Especially when he pulled me in for a deep kiss and ordered a bottle of Cristal for every table in the restaurant, to celebrate.

It wasn't until we went back to the hotel and were in the privacy of our room that I had the chance to set things straight. Needless to say, Dylan did not take it very well. Barely two hours after his loving proposal, the man who was prepared to spend the rest of his life with me was threatening my job. And worst of all, Flynn's music career.

I hopped the first available flight the next day and spent six hours deliberating what to do about Flynn. If there is one thing I'm certain about as I walk away from Dylan Ryder, it's that his threat to destroy Flynn was not idle. For some reason, he's had it out for the man before he even learned that I had feelings for Flynn Beckham. I'm thankful he doesn't know the half of it.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in." Avery wipes down the top of the bar. It's early; only a few college students from down the street are in Lucky's.

I glance around the bar with intentional exaggeration. "What did you do with all my patrons?"

She throws the wet towel she's using to clean the counter at my face. "Nice response to my texts."

"Sorry, it's been a crazy few days. Just got in last night."

"And you were too busy to send a one-line text?"

"I didn't know what to say. Where to start."

She leans over the bar. "How about starting with Hey, I'm marrying one rockstar and f.u.c.king another."

Well, that certainly caught the attention of the few people sitting within earshot. I shake my head and walk behind the bar, wrapping my arms around my best friend for a much-needed hug. "G.o.d, I didn't realize how much I needed this," I sigh.

"Two men and a hot babe like me? You're a nymph. You might need therapy," she teases.

"I definitely do. The Avery Logan kind. Can Jase cover the bar for a while?"

"I always knew Ryder was a sleazeball." Avery and I are in the alley behind Lucky's, camped out on milk crates as she smokes her daily I don't smoke anymore cigarette.

"Umm. I think in this case, you have it reversed. I'm the sleazeball."

"Well, yeah. That too." She grins. "But he's going to try to ruin your career and Flynn's to get even. Besides, I'd bet your half of the bar he cheated on you."

"How is that a bet...you're betting my half of the bar?"

"If I learned something since you were gone, it's that I do not want to own this thing without you."

"You missed my sleazeball self, didn't you?"

"It does kinda suck without you here to boss me around."

We laugh. G.o.d, I missed her. Missed this place. Even the back alley that smells like month-old stale beer mixed with cigarette b.u.t.ts. It may not have a white picket fence around it, but this place is my home.

"You need to tell Flynn what's going on."

"How can I? Dylan will definitely kick In Like Flynn off the tour if we're together now."

"Shots of Dylan down on one knee and you hugging him have been all over the news. Flynn thinks you're engaged, Lucky. You need to tell him the truth."

"I don't know. What if his decision is to be with me anyway and Dylan makes good on his threat? He'll lose the tour...and who knows what else."

"It's his decision to make."

"Honestly, I can't imagine he believes I would say yes to Dylan's proposal anyway, after the last month."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that."

I squint. "What are you not telling me?"

"He was here last night."

"At Lucky's?"

She nods.

"Was he looking for me?"

"Not exactly."

"Stop being cryptic. He came in and didn't ask for me?"

"He wasn't exactly in a sober state."

"Oh."

"Although he was definitely thinking about you."

"How do you know?"

"Jase cut him off after the third song about Lucky was slurred pretty bad."

"Oh."

"There's more." Avery digs her cigarette pack out of her bag and jiggles it so one falls halfway out, extending the offering to me.

I shake my head. I hate smoking.

"He came in with a woman."

"A woman?" It's crystal clear what she's telling me, but I make her spell it out anyway.

"She was all over him. They left together, too."

I light that cigarette she's still offering.

Chapter Thirty-Five.

Flynn

"Want a beer?" Nolan yells from the fridge to where I'm still crashed on the couch from last night.

I pick up my cell to check the time. "Dude, it's ten in the morning."

I hear the bottle crack open and then footsteps shuffling toward the couch. Sensing a body near, I open one groggy eye, and instantly regret it. His junk is swinging in the wind. "Put some f.u.c.king pants on."

He shrugs and takes a long draw from the dark-green Heineken bottle. "You know, I've pretty much had my bare a.s.s on every surface in this place."

I pull up the blanket and attempt to ignore him, but of course, that's pretty much impossible.

"Yep. Yesterday I was sitting right about where your head is now. Scratched my b.a.l.l.s for a while watching the Kardashians. Then let 'em dangle to air out."

"I'm not sure what's more disturbing, the thought of your dirty a.s.s sitting right where my face is, or you watching the Kardashians."

Another long tug on his beer, followed by a rueful sigh. "That Kim has some a.s.s. You know what I would do to that thing?"

"Can we not talk about you wanting to pound an a.s.s while your baloney is staring me in the face, please."

"I'm beginning to think you like baloney...seeing as how you've turned down every honey pot that's come your way the last few days."

"You're a d.i.c.k. You know that?"

"Yep," Nolan says proudly.

"Don't you have company to go entertain?"

"Left."

"Couldn't satisfy 'em?"

"Had to leave 'em able to walk." He chugs the rest of his morning beer-breakfast of champions. "They're bowlegged now, but they should be able to make it two blocks to catch the seven train."

"In your dreams."

"No, man, that's the thing...I'm living the dream. Unlike your sorry a.s.s. If you weren't such a chick magnet, I wouldn't even hang out with you. Seriously. You're pathetic these days."

"f.u.c.k off."

"Actually, this works out better for me. You're like one of those cute little dogs women love. You know, the kind a man would only be walking in the park with because he's p.u.s.s.y whipped. The chicks come over to pet it because it's so f.u.c.king ugly they think it's cute with that mop of stupid hair. But when they reach down, the little pebble-s.h.i.tting canine bites her manicured hand." He grins and nods while he continues. "And I'm right there to console the pretty little lady."

"You're seriously disturbing."

"Wonder if Lucky likes puppies."

I bolt upright. "Screw you."

"Hit a nerve, did I?"

"Could you put some f.u.c.king clothes on!"

"Can you lighten up a little?"

"A woman I'm in love with got engaged. To someone else." I tear the blanket off and stand, rising to my full height so we're eye to eye. "I'm ent.i.tled to be an a.s.shole for a couple of days."

Nolan flaunts a s.h.i.t-eating grin. "At least you admit you love her now."

"A lot of good that will do me."

"We all told you the other day, we don't give a s.h.i.t about opening for Easy Ryder. We get kicked off, something else will pop. Didn't like that f.u.c.ker the first time I met him anyway."

"She's marrying the a.s.shole."

"So you, what, give in?"

"What do you want me to do?"

"Quit being a d.a.m.n p.u.s.s.y and fight for her."

I scowl at him, but he doesn't back down. "Try not to be drunk for our three o'clock tour-planning meeting at Pulse." I swing open his front door hard, letting it slam into the wall behind it, and don't bother to shut the thing behind me.

I glance down at the time on my watch as I push through the gla.s.s revolving door at Pulse Records. I'm ten minutes early, and since Nolan will likely not show until half past three, I probably have another forty minutes to wait before we start the meeting.

I told myself I wasn't going to look for her. In fact, the usual me would be late and I wouldn't have time to even consider stalking. Yet somehow I miraculously find myself heading down the hall to the studio I know she gives her lessons in.

Three days it's been since I last saw her.

If feels like a year.

The long hall is filled with mostly dark rooms. Until I get to the last one on the left. Bright light shines through the gla.s.s window. I'm not even sure if she's back from the west coast. Obviously, with me gone, there's no need for a coach any longer. Although maybe she decided to stay on the tour with her fiance. The thought seriously causes a painful tightness in my throat.