13. Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Thirteen
Willow
I didn’t call my sisters. I ignored them when they texted the group about getting together at Lacey’s.
I’m still trying to get that feeling, the emotional connection, back in my music that I had this morning with Gunnar.
To say I’m shocked that man can sing, is an understatement. I wanted to ask him why he never sings with the band, but the emotional connection I felt to him in that moment was something I’ve never experienced with anyone else. I don’t know if I want it out in the wild.
I’ve watched that video on repeat all day now, and it gets sexier every time I watch it. Our eyes never leave the other the entire time. I keep editing a video to post, but it almost feels too intimate to share with the public. Plus the rumors that would swirl, it'd go viral for sure.
But, do I want to use Gunnar to do that?
My phone rings in my hand mid-edit. Mom.
“Hi Mom, what can I do for you?”
“For starters, young lady, you can quit your job! ”
“I’m sorry, you want me to quit my job? For what reason?” I sigh deeply, already annoyed with this conversation.
“That man that was fondling you last night! That is no place for you to be working.” She continues to yell about the man from last night, and I tune her out, texting Gunnar instead.
Me : What the hell did you tell the guys about last night?
Gunnar: I didn’t have a choice!
Me: Spill it, Gunnar.
Gunnar: We saw the guy at the clubhouse, he obviously had to say shit to be big man on campus and then the guys wanted to know what was wrong. I just told them that he got kicked out for groping your ass.
I rub my temples at his explanation. I know it is an innocent explanation he had to give the guys after seeing him, but now I have to deal with my mom.
“Mom, stop!” I demand. “It’s fine. A guy was drunk, and Gunnar handled it. No harm done to me, I promise, I’ve dealt with worse.”
“Willow -”
“No, Mom. I’m still not ready to talk about it. But please, stop. I am fine. The Bar is perfectly safe for me to work there. So just trust me, okay?” I sink down on the couch, abandoning any music work I was doing.
Sometimes it really sucks being the baby of the family, and coming into adulthood when my Dad died. All that pushes Mom to worry more than she needs to about me.
“Ok, Willow. But please, come home. Even if it’s just for dinner. You’re so close and still so far away from me.” Mom’s voice cracks. It kills me that I’m hurting her, but I can’t handle the hovering right now.
“Ok. How about sometime later this week?” I concede, not wanting to hurt her anymore.
We make tentative plans until I can ask Gunnar about my schedule, we haven’t set up an official schedule. We all know we work weekends but during the week if we want to come in, we do, if not we just tell Gunnar and he usually is okay with it. But I need the excuse to not give her an answer right now.
When I hang up with Mom I traipse back into my music room. I set up my phone on the tripod to record. I sit on my stool, and pull the guitar into my arms. I cradle it gently, strumming the strings with my pick, no song in mind.
I try to summon all the pain I’ve felt over the last year. Losing my entire career, all my friends, a manager who has no repercussions for his actions .
My fingers start strumming a song on their own and the words flow from me, the same emotion as before as I sing Dancing in the Sky . The lyrics come naturally to me, without any effort or thinking on my part. It’s one of my favorite sad songs. Mainly because it makes me think of my Dad. I sing it as if it's my way of talking to him.
Gunnar appears in the doorway while I'm singing, he must have gotten home a few minutes ago. He’s leaning on the door frame, his broad shoulders stretching his golf polo while he crosses his arms. A smile is spread across his face.
By the time I finish the last notes of the song, he is just out of the frame on my camera, but he’s gotten closer to me.
“That was beautiful. I’m glad you’re making videos again.”
“I haven’t posted them yet.” I place the guitar back and stand up, grabbing my phone and placing it on my stool after I stop the recording.
Out of nowhere, Gunnar pulls me into his arms. He pushes my wayward hair out of my face and behind my ear. “You should, it was amazing.”
“We were amazing this morning, and you know we could -” my response is cut off by his kiss.
“We could be, but we can’t,” he whispers, letting me go.
I follow him out of the room into the hallway. “Why not?”
“You know why, darling.” He rubs his hands over his face. “I want nothing more than to take you into this room and have you, but I know that won’t be enough for me.”
“I don’t know why,” I pout. “Why does it have to be just one time? And why did you kiss me if you don’t want to take it further?”
The thought of him having control of my body again has me clenching my thighs tight. I want that too.
I sidle up to his back, wrapping my arms around his front. My fingers roam under his shirt, feeling his abs ripple under my touch.
He spins around in my arms. “Willow, you’re too young for me, my employee, my roommate, my friends’ baby sister, and most importantly, you're struggling with a lot of emotions.” He rejects me while staring in my eyes, and rubbing the pad of his thumb over my cheek.
That baby of the family thing is coming back to kick me in the ass again. “I’m so sick of everyone treating me like I’m going to break because I just happen to be the youngest. I’m fine! I managed everything in Nashville by myself! I am fine, I’m not a fucking porcelain doll who’s going to break when touched!” I lash out.
He kisses me again, and I push him back onto his bed, climbing into his lap and straddling him. “Don’t you want me, Gunnar?”
He groans underneath me. “More than you know. ”
“So can’t we just forget all those things?” I trail kisses down his jawline while running my hands over his abs.
He moans again, “I want to - I can’t - Fuck. I can’t do this, there’s too many reasons not to.”
“Really?” I sit up, still straddling him. “Fine. Fuck you then.” I get off him and storm out to the living room, grabbing my purse.
“Willow. Wait! Please.”
I turn around, facing him.
“What?” I seethe.
“You know that’s not how I meant it,” he says desperately.
“Then why don’t you try to explain it better?”
He stares at me, running his hand through his hair. The silence stretches out.
“Exactly what I thought.” I leave slamming the door again.
When I reach the bottom of the stairs, Mack is waiting for me there.
“What in the hell are y’all doing up there?” she questions me. She stands with a hand on her hip.
“Nothing, Mack. Not a damn fucking thing.” I storm out the door that leads to the back parking lot, letting it slam behind me.
Usually I’d be too afraid of Mack to do that, but I’m so embarrassed from Gunnar’s rejection after I threw myself at him. Especially after the moment we shared this morning. How can he reject me after that? What we have is obviously so much more than just a physical attraction.
I get in my car as quickly as I can. I drive to the lake, not knowing where else to go. I can’t go to Mom’s without twenty questions, and I don’t know what my sisters are doing. What if they reject me at their doorstep too?
My safest option is to text them and see what they’re doing. I take a deep breath, knowing what I need to tell them.
Me: Meet at the lake?
Adelaide: When?
Me: Now?
Lacey: Be there in five. Need snacks?
Scarlett: Always yes, Lace. Come on.
Lacey: Sorry! On snack duty.
I get out of the car and go sit on the shore to wait for them. A car door closes and footsteps approach where I'm sitting. I look over to see Mom sitting next to me on the grass.
“Adelaide called me,” she says meekly.
The look of hurt and concern on her face is my undoing. The tears start flowing and she pulls me into her, hugging me tightly and not pushing me to talk.
My sisters join, and they just all huddle in, hugging Mom and I back until I stop crying.
“Willow, it’s time to tell us what’s going on,” Mom says.
I tell them all about Nashville. All about how I lost every penny I had fighting Jake. How I lost friends, my career. Everything.
“And then, Gunnar completely rejected me today. I mean he’s been rejecting me since I first met him, but I thought we were getting closer, I thought … I don’t know what I thought. But that rejection just put me over the edge,” I finish.
“Oh, honey.” Mom strokes my hair and I lean into her touch. “Gunnar might be my fault.” She looks at the girls.
“Mom, what meddling did you do this time?” Scarlett asks, pinning her with a stare. Scarlett and Preston are only together because of Mom’s meddling so she knows a thing or two about being on the receiving end.
Lacey laughs. “Oh she just showed up at The Bar and tore Gunnar a new one the day you moved in.”
“Mom!” Addy admonishes her.
She at least looks ashamed.
“It’s not my fault! You were drinking so much, then he just happens to have a room and a job above and at a place where you were drinking! I didn’t know he loved her! ”
“Well you’re part right. He doesn’t love me though.” I laugh thinking about my tiny mom threatening big bad Gunnar. The laughter bubbles up and out of my mouth before I can stop it, I’m doubled over laughing at the whole situation.
“Girl, what are you laughing at?” Addy asks with a bemused smile.
“Just picture it. Mom inside The Bar, all five foot one of her, waggling her finger, yelling at six foot three Gunnar, and him just taking it and being scared enough that he’s actually listening to her!”
My sisters join me laughing at the image in our heads.
“Hey, no! He’s just a respectful boy!” Mom defends him, but calling him a respectful boy just makes me laugh harder knowing what he can do to me. And imagining what I want him to do to me again. Respectful isn’t exactly what comes to mind.
Once we’re able to gather ourselves after laughing so hard, we enjoy some snacks that Lacey brought and wine that Addy brought.
Mom places the plastic red cups on the blanket but before she pours them, she pulls out a sparkling water for me.
“I know about Gunnar’s rule. So if you don’t want wine, I brought this.” She whispers to me and uncorks the wine.
I squeeze her leg in thanks and pour myself a glass of sparkling water. Mom passes the other girls their glasses of red wine. Lacey lays out our snacks that consist of snacks for a child. She shrugs when I give her a questioning look.
“You guys gave me like four seconds to get snacks! I didn’t want to miss sister time so you get what was in the pantry, and between Oliver and Colton I don’t have adult snacks. So take your Oreos and shut up.”
We all laugh and put our hands out for our cookies.
Just as Addy takes her Oreos from Lacey, her foot knocks over Scarlett’s wine and it soaks into my dress.
“Oh, shoot! Willow, I’m so sorry!” Addy and Mom rush to the hem of my dress with napkins and in the process Addy spills her glass down the front of my dress. The whole scene is straight out of a comedy. “Oh no! I’m more sorry now!”
“It’s fine. This dress was thrifted and cost me maybe three dollars,” I say through the laughter.
“Still! Now you’re covered in wine! You look like Scarlett when she spilled the whole pitcher of fruit punch, remember that?” Addy looks at Scarlett with a hint of a smile starting to spread.
“Oh my. That was quite the mess. Your father was so upset, we had just redone the wood floors and hadn’t stained them yet,” Mom recalls.
“The spot is still there! He couldn’t sand it off. He was so angry with me. That was the first time we went hiking together. He apologized for getting angry, and then told me how we were going to fix it. I was sticky the whole way because I ran and hid in the treehouse!”
I remember that day so vividly. I was maybe three years old, Scarlett was nine. She wanted juice but our parents were busy with remodeling our old farmhouse. Mom had just made the pitcher of juice so it was full to the brim. We all thought Dad was going to take Scarlett away to live somewhere else, he was so angry. Lacey, Addy and I had never been happier when we saw them walk back through the door laughing.
I use some of the sparkling water to try to get off some of the wine, but it’s a lost cause.
Shortly after, my alarm sounds. Reminding me it’s time for work.
I thank the girls for coming, and hug them.
“Thanks for still coming even though I’ve been an awful sister.” I look at Mom “And daughter.”
They all tell me to stop talking like that and we pile in for one more hug.
Once we clean up I hop in the car and head back to the apartment so I can change before my shift.