Chapter 22
Derek
“You can’t tell him.” I glare at Mav.
“Really? Why not?” Mav shoots back. “Doesn’t he have a right to know that you’re fucking—”
“I never fucked her,” I bite out.
Mav winces and I swear.
I hate that we’re speaking about Allegra this way. It’s vulgar and complicated and awful.
“Why’d you do it, Reign?” Mav asks.
Our conversation has gone in circles for the past thirty minutes. We’ve argued and verbally sparred. We’ve hurled insults and razor-sharp words.
But it all comes back to this.
“Why?” he asks again, shaking his head. His eyes are clouded with disappointment, and I feel it because I know how much Mav cares for Allegra. He loves her like a sister and feels protective of her.
It grants me relief as much as it pisses me off. I like that she has him watching out for her. That Mav will step in to protect Allegra, even when I can’t. Especially when she needs protecting from me.
But fuck, if I wanted to deck him for cockblocking me tonight. Especially because tonight wasn’t about the physical. My emotions were on high alert, lingering and flaring up at the chance.
She looked so cute when she stumbled into the house earlier. I wanted to press myself against her and let some of her good, some of that innocence, seep into my skin.
And that kiss. The fact that Allegra Rousell could want a man like me, it’s empowering. Heady. Blows my damn mind.
I want to wrap myself in Allegra’s sweetness, hold it to my chest like a cloak, and lose myself in her. I want us both to surrender to the moment, to each other.
That was finally happening. Tonight, the bitter front we’ve kept up for the past two weeks was changing into some type of resignation. Acceptance. The next natural expression in a chain of events that keeps guiding us back to each other.
Our searching mouths and desperate hands.
Fucking Maverick Tate.
I glare at my friend. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s different with her.”
Mav stumbles back half a step, as if my words physically affect him. Surprise blooms in his expression, quickly followed by doubt. His eyes narrow and his mouth twists. “You’re bullshitting me.”
I sigh, running my palm over my head. I grip the back of my neck until it aches. “Allegra and me…there’s always been something there,” I add, not willing to tell him how much. And for how long.
It’s none of his damn business and while I usually don’t give a shit if my bandmates, or the world, know who I’m fucking, Allegra’s different. She has been from day one.
Stellina. Mine.
Mav swears and shakes his head. “Reign, we’re about to head out on tour.”
I look at him, pausing at the severity of his expression. He looks…disturbed. Worried in a way that worries me.
“The band,” Mav starts, stops, swears. “We’re hanging on by a thread.”
I drop into a nearby chair and Mav collapses into the couch. “What do you mean? We’re finally jiving again. The past week—”
“The music’s been sick,” he cuts me off, agreeing. “The new songs you wrote have been incredible.”
“So, what’s the problem?” I pitch forward, dropping my elbows to my knees.
Mav shakes his head. “You really live in your own world.”
“Say what you’ve gotta say, Mav,” I snap, losing my patience. I’m not here for a therapy session.
“Levi’s on the brink of needing rehab. You know that, right?” Mav dips his head, trying to catch my eyes.
I stare at him and at the concern in his pale blue gaze, I think back to the past few months. Levi’s hot and cold attitude. The way he didn’t embrace his sister the way I thought he would’ve this summer. His dumb mind games with Cynthia.
How often he’s high…all the damn time. The pills and calls to Flip and partying…
“You party all the time,” I point out but there’s no accusation in my tone.
“Yeah, but I’m fucked up in different ways,” Mav admits. There’s no pain in his voice either, just a blatant assessment of what is.
If I was a feeling guy, if I was Allegra, his statement would break my heart. Instead, it causes a thread of discomfort to pull tight through my limbs and I shift my weight again.
“Levi’s about to spiral,” Mav warns, sounding wise considering he’s the youngest in the group. He’s practically Allegra’s age, for fuck’s sake. “My brother is going to struggle, being away from Amelia.”
“That fucking cunt,” I mutter.
“She’s gonna mess with his head, the way she always does,” Mav continues. Now that he’s started, he’s rattling off issues with ease. How long has he been worried about this tour? How long has he kept these concerns to himself?
While I’ve been focused on the music, the one song I can’t get right, the lyrics and the flow and the performance dates, Mav’s been shouldering the burden of the band. Of the messes we constantly make and the scrapes we find ourselves in.
“All we need is one match, one spark, and the whole thing is gonna go up in flames.” Mav’s gaze is steely.
Certain. “You fuck with, hurt, even confuse Allegra, and there’s gonna be issues.
Big ones.” He holds his hands out to the sides to indicate how colossal of a screw-up this is.
Does he mean Levi or himself? Or the whole band?
In one summer, Allegra Rousell became the Clovers’ sweetheart. Hell, Boston’s sweetheart. Dre’s best girl. Buck’s best friend. She’s got an in with the BHH girls.
Fuck. “You’re right.” The words are dragged from my mouth, like gum that’s stuck to the back of my throat, stretching and contorting, and a little painful.
“Don’t mess with the delicate balance we’ve got going,” Mav advises. “Let her go. Summer’s ending. She’s leaving anyway.”
My eyes snap back to his. “Where’s she going?”
Mav shrugs. “I don’t know. I assume back to LA. To her life. And we’re going on tour. The only way things work between you and A is if you wifey her up.”
My mouth drops open as horror explodes in my chest. Wifey her up? I’ll ruin her.
Mav shakes his head. “I don’t mean put a ring on her finger.
I mean, make her yours. For keeps. No more fucking around.
Go on tour and keep it in your pants. Spend your nights with your phone pressed to your ear, telling her about your day, instead of out with the crew.
Become Jameson.” Mav winces at the mention of his brother.
For the first time in my life, I feel a flicker of sympathy for my bandmate.
He was one of my first friends, but Jameson and I never clicked the way Levi and I do.
We didn’t have that instant rapport of creating music off each other, like we could both see the end and knew where the other was trying to go.
Jameson is talented. He lends a steadiness to the group, a foundation, that the rest of us would likely knock over before we figured out how to build up. Jameson helps us build.
“That’s not going to happen,” Mav says gently.
I know he’s right. I’m not cut out to be a Jameson. I’m not going to spend my days glued to my phone or text messages and neatly drop into my bed after sold-out shows.
I care about Allegra but I’m not ready to wifey her up.
“No, you’re right,” I admit quietly, coming to terms with the fact that I have to truly let her go.
Why did she come this summer?
In the four years since I kissed her, she’s crossed my mind a handful of times.
I sought her out on social media two or three times each year.
Every now and then, I’d ask Levi how his sister is doing, what Allegra’s up to.
But I didn’t let it stop me from living.
I kept her alive in a back corner of my mind and I moved on.
Except this time, I know that will be impossible.
There’s something about Allegra that calls to me. She makes me believe that I can have more, be better, be…worth it. Her. And it’s the most powerful and dangerous belief to cross through my mind.
“Let her go with some dignity, Reign,” Maverick mutters. “She’s a good girl and she’s finally found a path she loves. She had a good summer. Let her end it on a high note.”
“Yeah,” I mumble. “Of course. You’re right, mate.”
Mav sighs. He takes no joy in being right, not about this.
In this moment, I realize what a good friend Maverick Tate is. For years, he’s been the kid brother of our group. The goof. But at his core, he’s a solid guy. He just doesn’t let anyone see it. Keeps those parts hidden behind his humor and charm.
The front door bangs open, and Mav and I jump.
Levi sways in the doorframe. He shuffles forward a few steps and kicks the front door closed.
Gripping the back of the chair, he straightens and surveys the room. When he spots us, a grin cuts his face. His dark eyes, similar to Allegra’s, flash. “Hey, fuckers! What’re you getting into?”
Mav sighs again. Standing, he helps ease Levi into a chair and moves to the kitchen to fill a glass of water for him.
Levi drops his head back and stares at the ceiling.
I study my best friend. He’s plastered, fucked off his face. But he’s also functioning the way I’d expect because…how long has it been since Levi hasn’t been fucked off his face?
We’ve grown apart this summer, but I didn’t fully acknowledge it until this moment. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own life, in the song I can’t perfect, in battling the feelings I have for Allegra, that I didn’t notice Levi is slipping.
Mav passes him the glass and Levi takes a long pull of water, smacking his lips together.
“Ready for tour?” he asks us, his gaze—wild and unfocused and glazed—bouncing between Mav and me.
“It’s gonna be sick. All that pussy. All those clubs.
Fucking sold-out shows.” He shakes his head as if it’s unfolding in his mind.
“Rome and London. Fucking Paris. Just like when we were kids.” He laughs.
Mav shoots me a look. What the hell is he talking about? When we were kids?
I shrug.
“It’s gonna be awesome, man,” Mav says.
“Yeah.” Levi nods, tapping his fingertips against the armrest. “Yeah.” He cuts a grin, his face flushed. “My sister’s always wanted to see Paris.”
I start at the mention of Allegra. And Paris? I didn’t know that. I guess she didn’t study abroad or anything. Shame, she’d love Paris. Hell, she’d love anywhere new and brimming with possibility.
Look how she flourished in one summer in Boston.
“It’s gonna be the best now that she’s coming,” Levi announces, his grin growing.
To be honest, he looks kind of creepy. But it’s his words, more than his face, that give me pause.
“Coming where?” Dread fills my veins. Fuck off, Levi.
“To…on tour?” Mav asks.
Levi nods. Squints. “Didn’t I tell you guys?”
“Nope,” Mav replies.
Levi shakes his head. “Damn. She said yes. I mean, of course she did.”
My legs feel heavy and my stomach sinks at Levi’s casual dropping of this bomb in my fucking lap. Mav glares at me and it detonates.
The disaster explodes in my face.
“I wanna fix shit with her, ya know?” Levi rambles. “I’ve been a shit brother this summer and A deserves more. Hell, she deserves the whole damn world. I wanna take her to Paris…” He keeps talking but I tune him out.
Because her face flickers in my mind.
Deep, soulful brown eyes. Her playful smirk. Taunting words.
Four years ago, I kissed Allegra Rousell and something inside of me clicked with her. Something changed or rearranged, and I felt the first flicker of hope.
Tonight, I had my hands in her hair and my mouth on her neck and I wanted it all…everything, with her.
Mav glares at me and I know what he’s silently communicating.
You gotta end it. This has to stop. One match, the whole fucking band disintegrates…
Levi chatters animatedly, his hands gesticulating.
Fuck, I’ve gotta break his sister’s heart.
I have to let Allegra go.
Not with my stupid games. Not by pissing her off and reeling her back in. Not with one step forward, two steps back.
I need to cut ties and let her go so I don’t ruin the band. So I don’t destroy her on tour.
So I don’t collapse under the knowledge that I’ll never be enough.
Levi’s right; Allegra Rousell deserves the world.
I’m too broken and fucked up to offer a slice of that.
I can’t even give her Paris.