Damaged But Not Broken (New Adult Rockers) (6 page)

My dad looks pained at my words, at
first I wince, sorry that my words made him feel guilty, but then I feel a
righteous pang of anger. Sometimes I’m glad that he's upset over what happened
to me. It was partially his fault.

We finish our dinner and then
decide to leave the house at seven-thirty. My dad has two clubs in mind for us
tonight.

I head back to my room and look in
my closet for inspiration. What does one wear to a club when they first venture
out into a city they used to love? I don’t know Nashville as an adult. I have
the urge to call my momma, but I resist because I don’t really feel like having
this conversation with her now. The last thing I need is to over think this
situation.

I finally settle on a pair of
jeans, flats and a dark blue top. I debate putting my cowboy boots on, but I
don’t know if I’m ready for that, as ridiculous as it seems. I apply makeup and
flat iron my hair so it’s sleek and smooth. I haven’t had to use a purse since
I’ve arrived because I haven’t gone anywhere, and I dig around in my closet
until I find one of my smaller bags.

If I did start playing in clubs in
Nashville, I was going to have to add to my paltry closet. I had a few nice
things to wear in Bristol, but I feel like Nashville would require me to step
up my wardrobe game.

I head back to the main kitchen to
meet my father, and I find him on a kitchen stool, drinking another Fresca.

“Ready?” he asks, standing.

My dad looks handsome, he's dressed
in blue jeans, worn boots and a button down black shirt. He looks laid back
enough to be a customer, but there’s just enough swagger to show he’s in the
know.

I nod, I’m as ready as I’ll ever
be.

We climb into my dad’s car and he
pulls down the driveway. Within a few minutes, the familiar town is flashing
by. I take it in, remembering the happier days when I lived here. I’m surprised
to find that I’m not as freaked out as I feared I would be.

We arrive at the first club, and my
dad parks the car, and ushers us inside. I like the intimate feel of the place,
and we take a seat at one of the only high-tops left. I realize that I’m not
bothered by the clubs, because they remind me of Bristol, and I was too young
for the Nashville clubs when I still lived with my dad. I have no memories of
any Nashville bars or clubs, it's a clean slate.

My dad orders us two root beers and
the waiter obviously knows who my dad is because he’s not annoyed by our
non-alcoholic order, and is back with our drinks in record time.

Just then, the singer, a pretty young
woman, walks out onstage.

“She’s good,” my dad whispers, “but
not nearly as good as you.”

I smile back at him.

The girl takes the mic, introduces
herself as Ally Nickels, and starts crooning her first song. Her voice is
pretty and clear, but she doesn’t have a big range, and her lyrics are a bit
too simple for my taste. But she’s gorgeous, with long brown hair and big doe
eyes, and she’s dressed in a tiny jean skirt, high boots and a strappy top.
She’s obviously making up for her average voice.

The crowd likes her, they cheer and
clap and she plays into their hands, blowing them sexy kisses when she’s
finished.

Someone comes onstage announcing
another act will be out in twenty minutes.

“Are we staying?” I ask my dad.

He shakes his head, and pulls out
his wallet, and lays down a twenty.

“Nah. The band coming up is pretty
good, but I want to make another stop. I actually have some business to do at
the next bar, and there is a great guy and girl duo that I think you will
like.”

I nod and follow my dad out to the
car.

“Are you okay with me doing some
business?” he asks once we’re in the car.

“Sure, it’s not a problem.”

“I’m going to step into an office,
so I won’t be out on the floor. I don’t want to put you in any situation that
makes you feel uncomfortable.”

I gulp, because I admit that I’m a
little nervous about being left alone in a bar, even though I was alone in
plenty of bars in Bristol when I had to play.

“I’ll be fine,” I assure my dad.

He’ll be in a room nearby. I will
be fine, I remind myself.

My dad glances sideways at me. “If
you're sure.”

The bar isn’t too far away and when
we walk inside, it’s like my dad is a celebrity. People immediately come up to
him to say hello, shaking his hand and smiling.

“Wow, Dad. Everyone knows you
here.”

He grins. “This is one of my
favorites. I’ve found a lot of great acts in this bar.”

Daddy gets us situated at another
high top, and the duo comes out and starts to play. My dad is right; they are
great. The girl has a soft, unique voice and the guy’s voice is like warm
honey.

After the second song, my dad gets
up.

“I’ll be in there,” he whispers,
pointing to a door about twenty feet away. “If you need anything,” he
emphasizes.

I nod, feeling almost comfortable
in the bar. Especially since everyone has seen me with my father.

The duo plays two more songs and
then the guy, Ricky, takes the mic.

“So, we have a special surprise for
you. My good friend is here tonight along with his band Rust –’’ he crowd
cheers loudly, “and they’ve agreed to play two new songs.”

I smile, excited to see another
band.

The duo leaves the stage, and a few
guys start setting up drums and some other things. I don’t really pay attention
as I take a sip of my drink.

“Thanks everyone,” comes a rich
voice over the mic. It sounds almost familiar, and I glance up.

The blood drains from my face when
I see whom the voice belongs to.

My heart starts pounding, and my
palms sweat.

It’s Blake. Blake Evans. Tall and
grown up, standing on the stage, dressed in faded jeans and a t-shirt. I didn’t
even know he could sing.

My head spins as everything starts
coming back to me. The way it felt to be fifteen and kissing Blake. Making love
to Blake and being so connected to him that I thought nothing could ever break
us.

I can’t even focus on what he’s
saying, before I know it his band starts playing. I’m blown away by his voice,
and my mind stills long enough for me to register that Blake is talented,
insanely talented. His voice is raw, rich, and sexy as hell.

Blake himself, is sexy as hell.
He’s tall and still has the same messy brown hair that he had as a teenager but
his face is more masculine and mature. His eyes are just as green as I remember,
and I can see he’s filled out nicely...My eyes roam over his broad shoulders
and the strong muscles in his arms and chest.

Shit now I'm starting to blush.

I watch on, mesmerized as he sings
his first song. By the time he’s halfway through his second song, I know that I
have to get out of this bar. There is no way that I can run into him, not after
all these years.

My father still isn’t finished with
his meeting and I rifle through my bag and find some cash to throw down on the
table. I jump up, nearly knocking over my stool, just as the band finishes the
song and everyone starts clapping.

I look back up to the stage, and
Blake’s eyes lock with mine.

Shit.

I quickly turn away and hurry
towards the exit.

“Paige!” He screams into the mic.

I wince, feeling fresh pain over my
relationship with Blake that ended thirteen years ago. It's incredible how much
an old wound can still hurt after all these years.

I hurry and make my way towards the
door, my dad can catch up with me later.

“Paige! Please! Wait!” Blake says,
chasing after me.

I turn around to face him and he
stops short, smiling ear to ear, all the sudden he looks just like the fifteen
year old boy I left over a decade ago.

“My god, it’s really you?” he asks
in disbelief.

“Hi Blake,” I whisper.

He’s so close that I can see the
beads of sweat on his forehead and the familiar mole on the back of his right
hand.

“I can’t believe it,” he breathes.

I force myself to look away from
Blake’s gaze.

“I need to go,” I say quietly.

“Paige, please. I haven’t seen you
in thirteen years. Can’t we go somewhere and talk for a minute?”

He sees the fear in my face.

“Or just catch up?” he asks.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,
Blake.” His name rolls off my tongue easily, the sound both so familiar and
foreign.

“Paige. Please. There was a time
when we were so close-’’ He stops speaking and the unspoken words hang in the
air between us.

I feel it, it’s still undeniably there
– the chemistry between us.

Or maybe I’m losing my mind.

At that moment my father comes
hurrying over to us, his eyes quickly moving between Blake and I before he
comprehends.

“Blake,” he says, shaking Blake’s
hand. “I wasn’t expecting you here tonight.”

“It was a last minute thing,” Blake
explains, “We ran it past Becky this afternoon.”

My dad nods; he can sense my
uneasiness.

“Well, as you can see Paige is back
in Nashville.”

“Yes,” Blake says slowly, “I was
just asking her if she would like to catch up for old time’s sake.”

My dad peers at me, unable to read
my emotions.

I shrug at Blake. I can’t deny that
a huge part of me wants to spend time with Blake, to talk with him and find out
what he’s been up to over the years.

“I suppose we could,” I say
quietly, barely able to hear my own voice over the pounding of my heart.

“Great! Where are you staying?”

Blake is too enthusiastic; it
frightens and excites me at the same time.

My dad puts his arm protectively
around my shoulder. “She’s staying with me.”

“Maybe I can stop by for lunch one
day.”

My mouth is dry.

“Does tomorrow work?” Blake
prompts.

It's not that I'm afraid of Blake,
I'm fearful of the emotions he's stirring up inside me. I don’t like being
alone with men, I don't feel comfortable when I'm aroused by men...but Blake is
different; Blake is Blake. And I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel a little
aroused watching him up on stage a few minutes ago.

“Yes. Come over around one.” I say.

Blake smiles at me, and it's one of
the most sincere smiles I've ever seen. I remember that wide, lopsided grin but
it’s even sexier now, it’s more grown up.

We say good-bye and my dad and I
make our way out to the car.

“Honey, are you sure you want to do
that?” he asks softly, as we get in the car.

I feel a wave of indignation at my
father. Who is he to ask about my choices after he’s been gone for so long?

“Why would you care?” I bite back,
my anger flaring.

“You’re right,” he says quietly, “it's
none of my business.”

I sigh. “I’m sorry, Dad. That was
out of line. I shouldn’t have said that.” I have so much anger directed at my
father, that it’s hard to reign in sometimes.

“But you’re right." He says
sadly. "I haven’t been around for the past thirteen years. I don’t know
anything about your life.”

I hang my head. “You not being
around wasn’t your choice, it was mine,” I point out. “I’m sorry, Dad. I’m
really trying. It’s just hard sometimes.”

“I know, honey. I know.”

We drive the rest of the way home
in silence.

FIVE

Paige

Tossing and Turning

I don’t sleep much, most of the
night is spent tossing and turning, my mind racing with thoughts of Blake. I
dream restlessly, remembering our final summer together, the way we would
splash in his pool and then kiss, our mouths tasting of chlorine.

I get up a little after seven and
head out to the main kitchen in the house. I’m not usually up this early, so I
decide to eat breakfast with my dad. He’s a cereal kind of guy, so I pour us
two bowls of Apple Jacks and sit down with him.

“This is a nice surprise,” he says
as he takes his first bite.

“I was up, so I figured I would eat
with you. I didn’t sleep well.”

He eyes me carefully. “Have
anything to do with Blake Evans?”

I keep my eyes on my cereal bowl,
and shrug. “Maybe. It’s weird seeing people again after so long.”

“Blake isn’t just anybody.”

“Yeah, I know. But he was a big
part of my life here in Nashville, so it will be nice to catch up with him.
I’ve thought about him a lot over the years.”

Too much.

My dad nods, and looks like he
wants to say something but stops himself. I don’t press him. He rinses out his
dish and then grabs some files.

“I'm gonna head to the studio but if
you need anything let me know. I can come home any time.”

“Thanks, Daddy. I’m a big girl
though.”

Something I have to keep reminding
myself.

Then he’s gone.

I clean up my bowl and head back to
my bedroom. I lay back down on my bed, hoping that maybe I can nap, but sleep
evades me. I didn’t think to check the fridge for what I can make for lunch. Oh
well, there must be something in my fridge or the one in the main kitchen.

I play some music for a couple
hours, working on what I’m going to play this Friday night. My stomach churns
with nerves and fear, but I remind myself that this is why I’m here, I came
back to Nashville to start my career.

At eleven I decide to shower and
get ready. I spend way too much time rummaging in my closet, obsessing over
what to wear when Blake comes over for lunch. It’s ridiculous.

I finally settle on a simple green
cotton dress. I paw through my own fridge and find some pathetic fixings for
sandwiches. I head out into the main kitchen to find the right ingredients for
BLTs.

I start frying the bacon and take
out some of the leftover salad from the night before. I’m not sure what Blake
likes to drink, so I set out two empty glasses on the kitchen table. I gaze out
the large panoramic window in the back of the kitchen and see the sparkling
pool and cabana tent blowing in the breeze.