Chapter 4 #2
This is not what I expected. Well, I don't know what I expected exactly. Maybe something more trivial, but definitely not something as life-altering as that.
“Nope. You already asked your question and I don’t want the pity party.” She holds a finger up to my lips in a shushing gesture. “My family doesn't know and I’d like to keep it that way. I’m going to make the most of it, enjoy ski season bumming around in my van.”
I nod, seeing the determined look in her eyes. Her immediate response takes my rage down a notch. She must see it, because her playful smile returns.
My mind can only register her smile for a second before my brain spirals down a new path.
Living in her van like a nomad, as a single woman in the middle of winter?
I know I shouldn’t be one to judge. I did it too, in those early years before our first record deal.
I get it. Those were some of the most exciting days of my life, but I’m also six-two and can handle myself.
Something about her being alone like that doesn’t sit right with me.
I pack those thoughts away though when I see just how confident she is in her choice.
“So.” She swirls my beer around, mimicking my gesture from earlier, to see how much is left. “It’s my turn now.”
Her smile is playful, if not a bit mischievous. I’m just glad she’s looking more like herself.
She lets out a long hum, tracing a finger over her lips, a shade of pink that matches some of the strands in her hair. Everything about her is so beautiful and bright.
She tilts her head to one side, which lets the strap of her denim overalls fall just off her shoulder and over her flannel button down shirt.
I figured she wasn't big on formal wear and dresses, but there's something so refreshing that she wanted to get into her comfort clothes the second she could following the ceremony.
I can relate to that. Jeans and t-shirt, or maybe a flannel, is always what I feel most comfortable in.
I turn my palms up in surrender. I never want to hide anything from her and I want to make sure she knows that. I don’t even think I could hide something from her if I wanted to. “Whatever you want.”
There are so many things in my past, even in my present, that I would rather keep to myself. There's a reason I’m a private person and only let in people I trust.
Shit. She could ask me if I’m into her and I’d tell her the truth.
I scan her face, watching her eyes beam as she considers what to ask. “So I can really ask you anything I want? Aren't you worried I’ll ask about something scandalous and go to the tabloids with the sordid details?”
Shrugging, I reach over, grabbing my beer back from her.
My fingers graze the backs of hers, sending sparks up my arm like I just hit the perfect note on a guitar solo.
I take the last pull of my beer. “I won’t count that as your question,” I say, giving her a wink.
“There’d have to be something scandalous in my past, but sure.
I told you the rules. Ask whatever you want. I'll answer.”
Her forest green eyes narrow on me like she doesn't believe it's that simple.
I tip my beer at her. “Besides, I trust you. That’s not the kind of person you are. Now ask. I know you've got something you've wanted to ask about.”
She holds her chin between her thumb and forefinger in thought, her lips part just before asking. “What Teal Tigers’ song was your favorite?”
“Really? That’s the best you got? I’ll give you a do-over if you ask me something you can’t Google.”
She throws her head back and groans. “Fine.”
I watch as her gaze lowers to my hand holding the beer, exactly where I figured she would start.
“What does that mean?” She points down at my hand, or more specifically, the tattoo wrapped around my ring finger.
I stare at my finger, looking at the small music notes tattooed in a ring around it.
I still remember the day I got it. Not my first tattoo, but the one I was so damn excited about getting.
I got it right after we landed our first record deal.
Now, it’s just a reminder of something that’s gone, something that left me.
Well, two things that are gone and left me.
“You know the rules, sir.” Grace tips her empty champagne flute, highlighting the lack of contents. “Answer or you’re getting a drink.”
I roll my neck, exhaling as I hold out the empty beer in front of me, tilting my hand back and forth, inspecting the small notes.
“Music was my first love. In my teens and early twenties, it was everything to me. It consumed me. Every thought, every idea, every action - I loved it and lived for it.”
When I look up, her eyes have softened. She’s wearing a kind, compassionate expression, hanging on each word. My words.
“Is that a good enough answer?” I deadpan.
“Yes, it was.” Her expression shifts into a devious smirk. “And you just wasted your question.”
“Oh, come on.”
“Nope. They’re your rules. My turn again.” She hums thoughtfully, playfully grinning back at me. Instantly, I don’t care that she snuck that one by me. Seeing a genuine smile on her face sends warmth all the way through to my bones.
I mock glare at her as she takes her time picking her next question. I raise my hand and look down at my bracelets like they're a watch, gesturing for her to hurry up. Her eyes lock on my hand again.
“Was that your only love? Music?”
Yeah, maybe a cheap shot of tequila is a better trade than answering this question.
“I’m sure you know my dating history, or lack thereof. It’s all out there on the internet.”
She looks unamused at my answer. “I know I could look up your dating history, but that wasn’t my question. I asked if music is your only love.”
My hand clenches the bottle and my answer comes out as a reflex.
“Was, not is.” Shit. That came out harsher than I meant for it to.
I can see it by how her eyes widen and her lips part like a deer caught in headlights, not knowing how to react to that.
“And yes, it was my only love.” There was a time when I might of answered that differently, but it’s been the truth to me for years.
“I’m sorry. I thought you said I could ask anything.”
I reach out and grab her hand. To my surprise, she doesn't pull back. I wrap my fingers around hers, rubbing small circles across the back of her hand.
“I did say that, you’re right. It’s just an old wound that feels like it never closes.”
She leaves her hand in mine while her eyes stay fixed on me. She swallows hard and nods. “I get that.”
Fuck. I’m a jackass. As soon as she says that, I remember if anyone would know about old wounds, it’s the Chapman siblings.
I need to dig myself out of this hole. The entire reason I even came over here was to try and distract her and cheer her up, not be a downer. So I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind to fix what was bothering her in the first place.
“Work for me?”
That’s my next question? Why did I ask that? Why can’t I think straight around her?
I watch as her face scrunches. The look she gives me is part shock, part disbelief, and a whole lot of what-the-hell.
“Did you really just ask me to work for you?”
This could go bad quickly. I raise a shoulder in a half shrug, doing my best to play it off casually. I could hire her, maybe she could work with Jake for me.
“Yeah, work for me. I could use someone to help with my charitable giving.”
I do give a small fortune to non-profits each year, albeit anonymously for a list of reasons. Jake always picked the causes he thinks I’d like and handles all the paperwork and finances. Maybe I could unload some of that to her?
She’s still looking at me like I have two heads and I don't like the feeling.
“Is this some kind of a messed up joke or are you being serious?”
Shaking my head, I stretch my arm around the back of her chair and lean in closer. I already opened this can of worms, so I might as well go all the way. It’s hardly the worst idea I've had and she’s the kind of person I like to have in my circle, personally and professionally.
“No joke. I’m serious.” Her shoulders relax when she sighs. She looks down, tracing a finger over the rim of her empty glass. Maybe this will work? She’s actually thinking about it, until I fill the silence. “Come on, what do you have to lose?”
Her head whips up, her green eyes filled determined fire again.
"No pun intended, but I'm not some charity case, TJ. Thanks though.” I can see the resolve in her expression.
I want to push back, but I’m caught off guard by an excited shriek from the back door of the bar.
Clay strides out of the back hallway with Lizzy clung to him like a koala bear, draping her arms over his shoulders.
Lizzy catches the attention of Veronica and Grace, pointing at the sizable ring on her finger.
Oh, damn. Clay did it. He proposed.
Grace jumps from her seat so fast, leaving me at the table alone. I know they're my friends, but this is a huge moment for them. I decide to cut my losses, lick my wounds, and call it an early night.
They should get to celebrate this together as a family.