In the Lyrics (4 page)

Penis, one. Colby, zero.

Hensley’s voice is raspy and low, but sounds so sweet. My eyes stay glued on her as my feet move me forward through the crowd. I can faintly hear Brittani shouting my name as I leave her standing behind me. Yeah, she’s a looker, but like I said, she isn’t the type of woman I would ever bring home to the farm, so why waste my time? Hensley is…well, she seems to be just my type. A little jaded around the edges, yes, but what’s something worth if you don’t have to work to get it?

As I near, she and Dusty break out into the song’s chorus. I can tell this is an original piece just from the way she closes her eyes and feels the music. It’s like how I feel when I sing. The lyrics, the sound coming from my guitar as my hands work to make it possible, it’s all a part of me, of my soul. It’s something that only musicians experience, a feeling we all share. We know what it’s like to be in that moment, belting out that tune, giving our audience a little glimpse into our minds, our lives, our worlds. It makes me wish Dusty was out of the picture and I was up there with her. In this moment, in her element, I would give my left nut to be strumming my guitar as she sang to my beat.

“I don’t wanna hurt any more,

I don’t wanna shed another tear,

My soul was crushed,

The night you broke me and left me standing there…”

Her arm rises as her eyes close again. But standing here, watching her, listening to the lyrics escaping from her mouth leaves me wondering who left her shattered and broken.

Dusty continues to play on the keyboard sitting next to her, backing her up. I shift my eyes back to Hensley who, much to my amazement, is looking back at me. Her eyes are hooded and glossy.
Why does she look so unhappy?
I want to be the person to make her happy and fill her life with sunshine again. But I know all too well that sometimes what we
want
and what we
need
are two extremely different things. My aspiring career is why I came here, but she just might be the reason why I stay.

WHO IS THIS man, and more importantly, why do I care?
Do not lose sight of your dreams, Hensley. You’ve found a way out of this town, and your voice is gonna be your golden ticket.
Trying to control the pitch of my voice, I shut out thoughts of Colby and concentrate on playing our next five songs. His eyes never leave mine though. Even after we finish our set, he watches and seems oddly content standing alone long after the crowd has disappeared.

Dusty reaches for the open guitar case and pulls it towards us. The damn thing is full. I didn’t even see that many people throw money in there, but the bottom of the case is covered in green bills. I look over at my best friend as he winks at me with an I-told-you-so look on his face. He knew this would happen. Remind me to have more faith in him. He said this was a good spot, and boy, was he right. I am beaming from ear to ear when I feel
his
presence draw closer.

Walking up to us, he shakes Dusty’s hand in one of those bromance handshake thingies, then faces me. “That was quite a performance. Hensley, you sound amazing. Have you been singing long?”

Who does he think he is just waltzing into my town unannounced and asking personal questions? “A while,” I shrug, annoyed.

He mumbles something, but I ignore it as I start to pack up my stuff. It doesn’t take long to lay my guitar in its case. Looking up, I see him still standing in front of me.

“Well, I don’t want to be a bother, but I don’t really know where
we
live, Dusty. You mind if I follow you?” His emphasis on the word “we” makes me feel like an ass. Of course he is waiting on Dusty.

“Yeah, no doubt. Do you mind stopping and grabbing a bite with us? I’m starved,” Dusty asks rubbing his stomach.

“Actually I’m pretty hungry myself. It was a long drive and Momma only packed so many PB&J’s.”

My eyes cut to Dusty’s as I silently beg him not to do this to me. I don’t know why I am so hesitant to be around Colby, but for some reason he makes me feel strange. Like a good strange, which is a bad sign. I may hide behind my sharp tongue and hard exterior, but inside I’m still a woman. A woman whose heart started pounding profusely against her chest the first time I laid eyes on him. And because of that, I know being around him is a bad idea – a very, very bad idea. Making a mental note to steer clear of him at all costs, I plaster on a fake smile knowing there is nothing I can do to change our dinner plans. After all, he
is
Dusty’s roommate. Next time I need to see a picture of all the applicants prior to them just showing up in the beginning of a set, unannounced, and way before their scheduled arrival.

“Well, what are we waiting for? I could eat a horse,” I say as I stand up reluctantly.

“A woman after my own heart.” His voice and closeness to my body sets a flutter through my stomach. Not that his statement was romantic in the slightest, but his tone is so masculine and Southern. It is the sexiest voice I’ve ever heard in my entire life.
Oh, no. I’m in trouble. Deep, deep, trouble.
I feel Dusty wrap his arm around my waist as he bends down to grab my case and swings it over his opposite shoulder. Out of the corner of my eye I see Colby glance at Dusty’s hand. If he is going to be tagging along everywhere, it’s best if he learns how close Dusty and I are the hard way. Taking advantage of his wandering eyes, I lean into my best friend’s embrace and turn to whisper into his ear, “You smell like B.O.” Dusty’s laughter causes Colby to tilt his head. His movement resembles a puppy who doesn’t quite understand what his master is saying to him.

For all he knows I am whispering sweet nothings in Dusty’s ear, which obviously couldn’t be further from the truth. The reality is we’re just affectionate friends. I’m safe in his arms and there is never any lingering doubt if he’s into me. I sneak another peek over my shoulder, but he catches me in the act. He knows what I’m doing, and I just lost at my own game. A small grin spreads across his plump lips and he winks at me.
Why oh why does he have to be so handsome?

The three of us walk for a few blocks until we reach my car. Betsy the beater, I call her. It’s the best my parents could do, and well, it was either Betsy or turfin’ it to school every day. As you can see, I made a wise decision, and Betsy has become my only female friend. She doesn’t gossip, whine, or complain, so she quickly won my loyalty.

Dusty opens the trunk and puts our equipment in and then turns towards Colby and asks, “Do you want us to drive you to your vehicle and you can just follow us back into town?”

Colby shrugs like he doesn’t have a care in the world. “Sounds good to me.”

Opening the driver’s side door, I slide the seat up and gesture Colby in, “Excuse the mess.”

He bends forward to climb in, and when he does, his shirt rises up just a tad in the back exposing his hard, tanned body. I think I am literally drooling. Doing everything in my power to look away, I fumble with my purse and pull my keys out. I never lock Betsy. I know she won’t try and run away from me, and I know no one wants to steal her. It’s a real shame. She may look old and beaten on the outside, but she rides as smooth as a plane on the inside. I climb into the car as Dusty does the same. The radio blares as I put the key in the ignition, startling me. But I refrain from turning down the knob, scared that the sound of my pounding heart may be heard over the music.

I can feel the closeness of Colby’s hands as he holds my headrest and pulls himself forward so his face is in between Dusty and me. He smells like spearmint gum and a mix of cologne and sweat. Knowing he’d said he had been driving all day, I take that into consideration and breathe him in, reminding myself that the rugged, manly smell will fade with a quick shower.

Not in my twenty years have I ever felt so…I don’t know…drawn to a complete stranger, and all of a sudden, I am sniffing one.
What is wrong with me?
I blame Dusty. Bottom line. He invited him here. He needed a roommate, not me, and here I am suffering, fighting the urge to turn around and kiss a stranger. But I won’t. I can’t. I have got to keep my head on straight and remember men are off limits. Colby is off limits. I saw the way Brittani sauntered over and was groping his arm. I’m not stupid, and he doesn’t look like the type to be fooled either, but she’s there and available. Unlike me. Shaking my head, I know I need to fight these feelings that have crept into me within a matter of hours.

He finally leans back and rests against the nylon material that is Betsy’s backseat. “So what’s good around here?”

“There’s this good Mexican place close by the apartment. They’re open late. Sound good, baby girl?” Dusty’s voice brings me back from la-la land and puts me at ease. He would never knowingly put me in an uncomfortable situation. He wants out of this hellhole town as much as I do.

“Nacho Palace it is,” I mumble under my breath.

We drop Colby off at his truck and then head to the restaurant as he follows behind us. Dusty is leaning back against the headrest while his fingertip traces small circles on my knuckle. I remember when we were younger, people used to claim we were secret lovers. We’ve never been anything more than best friends, but I can totally see where one would think otherwise. No one has to understand, or even accept, what we are. The thing is, I accept Dusty and his lifestyle one hundred percent, and he accepts my desire to escape. What we have is perfect, and we wouldn’t expect anyone to understand, nor do we need anyone’s approval.

As much as I want to yell at Dusty for inviting Colby out to dinner with us, I know he has good intentions. Colby is probably starving from the ride here, and well, Dusty just likes to eat. You would never know it by his appearance, but then again he loves working out almost as much as he loves music. I guess they go hand in hand. No one wants to be in the public eye feeling lousy about their own image.

“Don’t forget to turn, baby girl,” Dusty says, breaking the silence lingering between us. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours? I thought you’d be way more excited. We made a killing tonight. Seventy-five dollars a piece, girl!”

I give him a weary smile, because after all I am excited. That’s the best we’ve done in a long time. “I’m plenty excited.”

He fake coughs, “Bullshit.”

“Bullshit to what?”

“I’m calling your bluff, Hensley Elaine Bradley.”

Huffing, I start to deny his accusation, “Whatever, I don’t even know what that means.”

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re annoyed or wait…” Turning my head slightly while still keeping my eyes on the road, I see Dusty rubbing his chin like Dr. Evil. “You look like you’re in love. Wait, who has you crushing on ‘em?” I shake my head, and try to hide the smile that stretches on my face. “I knew it. Ahh, I’m a genius. I knew you would meet someone tonight. My little girl is growing up so fast.”

Rolling my eyes, I focus on staying in between the yellow and white lines painted on the pavement.

“Who is he? Did I see him? Oh wait, he was the tall guy with the goatee, wasn’t he?” His teasing continues.

“You seriously need to slow your roll, D, and hell no, it wasn’t that weirdo. What leads you to believe I’m crushing on anyone, anyhow? I didn’t leave your side all night. Plus I could just be tired, did you ever consider that?”

Turning his head a tad, his green eyes meet mine and remind me that they see what others don’t. Like always, Dusty knows what I’m feeling, sometimes even before I do. He says it’s kind of like spidy-sense, except he calls it BFF-sense.

“Miss Bradley,” he says in a deep Southern drawl, “I do believe I’ve seen this same smitten look on your pretty little face before.”

“Seriously, D, we were what, nine?”

“We were thirteen, thank you very much, and his name was Preston.” My eyes widen. Seriously, how does he remember my one measly little crush? “You can’t tell me you didn’t like him, because we both know you did. Remember when you cried for three whole weeks after he and his ‘rents moved? That’s right, act all coy and shit, baby girl, but yes, I’ve seen this same glow in your eyes before. Deny it all you want, but someone got to you tonight.” He reaches across the console and pats my hand. “You know where to find me when you’re ready to tell me who sparked your interest. And please make it fast, because he’s got to be awful intriguing to interest you, Miss I-don’t-believe-in-love.”

Fighting the urge to tell him it’s his new roommate who lit a flame in me I didn’t even know existed, I bite the inside of my cheek in a dire attempt to keep my mouth shut. Okay, who am I kidding? I can’t – scratch that –
won’t
ever keep anything from him. We made a pact.
Here goes nothing.
“Okay, you win, but don’t make a big deal about it. Because trust me, it doesn’t mean anything. You know I don’t date, don’t wanna date, and I don’t foresee me changing my mind anytime soon, okay?”

He doesn’t say anything. I count to five, but before I can open my mouth to say his name, Dusty whispers, “Colby.”

Nodding shamelessly, I wonder how he knew.

“You forget I know you like the back of my hand, sista. Now let’s get some dinner. This should be an interesting rest of the summer, don’t you think?”