More Than Once (11 page)

She nodded, but she seemed distracted. Her eyes kept flicking to the phone still clutched in her hand.

“Is there something else bothering you?” I asked.

She hesitated, but then shook her head and shoved the phone in her jeans. “No, nothing.”

I waited a moment longer to see if she would reveal anything else, but for once, she didn’t seem to want to talk to me. I missed the Becca who had shared so freely with me before, but I could tell she was hurting and I wasn’t going to push her.

“You’re cold,” I said. “Come here.”

She uncurled herself and moved into my welcoming arms, bringing the blanket with her. I wrapped it around us both and held her close, stroking her hair, tucking the flyaway pieces behind her ear. I hoped she would open up to me when she was ready, but until then I was happy enough to offer her some silent comfort, to be the guy she leaned against for support.

“Everything will be okay,” I whispered into her ear.

She turned her head and found my lips with her own. It was a slow kiss, a soft brush of our mouths, the lightest touch of our tongues. Completely different from the fervent, rough kisses from last night and somehow even more intimate. She stroked her fingers across my jaw, gazing into my eyes, and we were both lost and then found in a single, shared breath.

I felt powerless against her, falling under her spell with each kiss, and it was too much, too dangerous, too close to something real. Something not at all casual and a whole lot serious. I couldn’t stop it, wasn’t even sure I wanted to stop it, but had to stop it somehow.

“I should get going,” I said, extracting myself from our embrace. “I need to call my family back home and…”

She nodded, tugging at her lower lip with her teeth. “Yeah. We’ll be heading to Austin soon. That’ll be a fun three-hour car ride. But we still have our date tomorrow, right?”

“We do. I’ll be here at seven to pick you up.”

“We’re not really exchanging presents, are we? Promise me you won’t get me anything.”

I tucked the blanket tighter around her. “I promise.”

She gripped my shirt, looking up at me. “I’m serious, Andrew. No presents. I won’t have time to get you anything and I can’t afford to anyway, and if you get me something, I’ll just feel bad.”

“I swear, no presents. You don’t need to worry.” I bent down to give her one last kiss. “After all, I already got my present from you last night.”

She gave me a faint smile. “If you’re good, you might get another present like that tomorrow.”

“I can’t wait.”

M
y parents didn’t discuss the college thing or mention Andrew even once during the long car ride to my uncle’s house in Austin. There was a heavy tension in the air, and it wasn’t just from me and my parents, but from Trish and Matt, too. I wondered what had gone down after I’d left the room.

Once we arrived at my uncle’s house, all of that was forgotten in the spirit of holiday cheer. We opened more presents and had another huge, delicious meal with my uncle’s family and my grandparents. I sneaked off once to text Andrew and wish him a merry Christmas, and he told me he’d gone to work after all. I scolded him, but hey, at least he was getting paid extra for it.

We stayed over after dinner, sprawled on couches and crammed into guest rooms, and then we all drove back in Trish’s minivan in the morning. The storm had completely cleared up by then, and all the snow was melting away. Our magical, white Christmas was over.

Once we returned home, Trish and Matt took Hannah inside to make her some lunch. But as I moved to follow them, my parents cornered me on the front porch.

“Rebecca, can we speak with you for a moment?” Dad asked.

“Sure,” I said, sliding my hands in my jacket pockets. Still no cigarettes in there, dammit. Quitting fucking sucked.

“We’re sorry for how we reacted yesterday,” Mom said. “We were just surprised and confused by everything you told us.”

Dad nodded. “We’ve been putting too much pressure on you, but only because we want the best for you. At the end of the day, we don’t care who you’re dating.”

“Well, we do,” Mom said, nudging him. “But your dating life isn’t as important to us as your happiness. We want to help you, with or without a man at your side. Obviously I would love it if you
did
find someone to settle down with, since I’m not getting any younger and would like another grandchild, but—”

“Evelyn,” Dad warned.

“Sorry, sorry.”

Dad turned back to me. “What we’re trying to say is, we’ve decided we’re still going to help you go to college.”

Their words didn’t register at first. I’d expected us to make up, because c’mon, they were my parents and it was Christmas and I knew they loved me no matter how many bad decisions I made. But I’d never expected them to change their minds about giving me the money so soon. I’d figured I would have to prove myself to them in some other way first.

“Are you sure?” I asked, my voice cracking with the words.

“Positive,” my father said.

I gave him a quick hug and then brought my mom in for one, too. “Thank you for giving me another chance. I’m really sorry I lied to you.”

“Just try not to do it again,” Dad said. “You can always be honest with us. We love you no matter what, okay? And we’ve always been proud of you, even if we’re not very good at showing it.”

I nodded, my eyes filling with tears, my chest so tight with emotions it was hard to breathe. “Yes, Dad.”

My mom patted my cheek. “Now, dear, you go get ready for your date with that handsome boy. I still have high hopes for the two of you.”

“Evelyn…”

Mom shrugged. “What? You have to admit they’d make beautiful grandchildren.”

They each gave me another hug and then got in their car to drive the one block to their house with all the food, clothes, presents, and cooking supplies my mom had brought for Christmas.

I wanted to tell Andrew the good news, but I restrained myself. He hadn’t texted me since last night, and I didn’t want to seem too desperate. After all, I was seeing him in a few hours; I could tell him at dinner.

As soon as I entered my bedroom, I did get a text—but it was from Kyle. And he knew exactly what to say to get me to respond.

Jared’s injured. Please call us.

A wave of pure panic hit me. Oh my god, was that why they’d been calling and texting me? Had something terrible happened to Jared? We hadn’t talked in months, and our one night hook-up had only led to problems, but I still cared about the guy. As a former friend and fellow musician, if nothing else.

I shut myself in my room and debated which band member to call. I didn’t know Maddie’s number, so she was easy to eliminate. Kyle and I had always gotten along the best, but he also reminded me a lot of his brother. And no way was I calling Jared, even if he was hurt. Hector was the safest bet—and I knew he’d give it to me straight.

The phone rang only once before he picked up. “Becca. About damn time.”

“What’s going on?”

“Sorry for all the texts. I know it’s Christmas and all, but we’re in trouble. We had this holiday benefit concert the other day in Chicago, and Jared slipped on some ice and fell.”

“Is he okay? How bad is he hurt?”

“Broken hand. He can’t play bass or guitar until it heals. And…they say it may never be the same again.”

My heart seized up. Jared lived and breathed music and could play just about every instrument, but guitar was his true passion. To not be able to play it the way he once had would kill him. I knew because it would kill me, too, even though I hadn’t touched a bass in months. I couldn’t think of a worse fate, and I ached for him.

“That’s terrible,” I said. “I hope his hand heals up soon. But what can I do to help?”

“We have a concert in Austin on New Year’s Eve, and we need a bassist.”

For a long moment I couldn’t say anything. I simply clutched my stomach and stared at my wall, wondering if I’d heard him correctly.

“Just for the one show,” he continued. “We don’t have anything scheduled after that until Valentine’s Day, and we’re hoping he’ll be able to play again by then.”

“Why me?” I managed to get out.

“Couple reasons,” Hector said. “One, we only have a few days before the concert and finding a bassist in that time is damn near impossible. Especially with our track record.”

Villain Complex had always had terrible luck with bassists. Before me, they’d gone through half a dozen of them. Good ones were hard to find, especially since everyone wanted to play the guitar. Stupid, but that’s how it was.

“Second, you already know our songs,” Hector said. “At least, our older ones. Third, you live near Austin.”

I felt shaky all over, my nerves on high alert, and my body was barely keeping it together. “I’m sure your manager could hire a local bassist who could learn your songs quickly.”

“Maybe, but we want you.”

After all the trouble I’d caused, I should be the last person they would ever invite to rejoin their band. First, Jared and I had gotten drunk and hooked up one night after a show. Big mistake. Especially since he hadn’t returned my feelings for him. It had made everything uncomfortable for the band, and it had turned me into a jealous, lovesick fool. I’d wasted way too much time pining away for a guy who would never care for me that way.

Second, I’d gotten drunk and ditched them when they needed me to compete in the UCLA vs. USC Battle of the Bands. Kyle and his girlfriend Alexis had been forced to track me down and convince me to play that night—and to not quit the band then and there.

I’d tried to give the band another shot, but I’d been too bent out of shape over Jared and too stupid to see it would never work with him. Hell, I’d even gotten drunk at a party and thrown a beer bottle at his head. Then I’d quit and nearly ruined their chances of going on
The Sound
.

To top it off, I’d later gotten drunk (notice a theme here?) and whined to a guy in a bar about what a dick Jared was. The guy had turned out to be a reporter, and he’d used my words in an article about the band that had gotten them some bad publicity during
The Sound
. I’d apologized when they were at Comic-Con and tried to make amends, but I knew it would never really be enough.

I’d done some stupid shit. I’d made some bad decisions. But I’d gotten away from that life. I’d put it behind me.

And I was never going back.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” Hector asked.

“Pick one.”

“Would it change your mind if I told you that your cut would be about $3,000?”

My heart nearly stopped. Three. Thousand. Dollars. Shit, I could really use that money. My parents had agreed to help me with college, but I’d still have to get a job of some sort so I could get my own apartment. Even though Trish said she didn’t mind me living with her and Matt, I didn’t want to overstay my welcome. But…

“No,” I said, forcing the word out. “It won’t.”

He was silent for a long time, so long I worried he’d hung up. “That’s too bad.”

“I can’t get involved in that life again,” I said. “Too many bad memories.”

“Is it Jared? ‘Cause I promise you, he won’t be a dick. I’ll make sure of it.”

“No, it’s me. It’s all me. I don’t even play bass anymore.”

“The hell you don’t.”

“And how would you know?”

“I’d sooner believe you’d become a nun than quit music.”

“Well, you’re wrong.” His words made me irrationally angry. He didn’t know a damn thing about me or what I’d gone through the past few months. I hadn’t spoken to him or any of the other members of the band since the night I’d met Andy. Not once had they contacted me or given any clue they gave a shit about what had happened to me. Now they wanted my help?

No. Not going to happen.

“How’s Tara?” I asked, unable to hide the bitterness in my voice.

“She’s…good. She started a new job here in LA and really likes it. Why?”

“You know, you two really did a number on Andy. I hope you’re proud of yourselves.”

“Andy? Is he there in Dallas? Are you two together?”

“Look, I have to go. Good luck at your show.”

“Becca, hold up—”

I hit End before he could say anything else and collapsed onto my bed, feeling drained. I hadn’t realized how exhausted talking to Hector would make me. It had brought up all those old feelings again, of guilt and regret and self-hatred.

If talking to him for five minutes made my stomach twist with anxiety, how could I possibly join their band even for one night? I couldn’t touch a bass guitar without feeling that crippling sense of dread and unease. Returning to that life could only lead to more bad decisions and broken dreams, and I’d worked so hard to move away from all that.

No, I was done with that life. And I was never looking back.

I
opened the car door for Becca, and she stepped out, giving me a nice glimpse of her gorgeous legs. She wore a short black dress and heels, and it was impossible to look at her without getting hard. Her red lips and curled hair made her look like a classic beauty tonight, although I still thought she made one hell of a sexy bad girl, too. I’d meant what I said before—I liked both versions of her.

“Fancy,” she said, gazing at the restaurant, my favorite steak place in Dallas. “Are you trying to impress me, Mr. West?”

“Definitely.” I handed my key to the valet and took Becca’s arm with a smile. She moved close, and I led her through the door, enjoying the way it felt to have her at my side, like we were an actual couple. The scary thing was, I found myself actually wishing we were.

We were done pretending. Our date tonight was real. And I was going to make sure she wanted another one.

The inside of the restaurant was all gold and black, with rich leather and dark wood. The faint sound of classical music could be heard in the background, and the room smelled of melted butter and red wine. A Christmas tree sat in the corner and twinkling white lights hung across the ceiling.

We were seated at a secluded table in the corner, and we each ordered a glass of wine. I already knew what I wanted, but Becca studied her menu with a frown.