Chapter 22
Derek
She’s pissed. Scratch that; she’s fucking furious.
I force myself to sit up and groan at the pain in my head. My brain feels rattled, my throat cracked and dry, like sandpaper. Even my eyeballs ache, like I’ve got grains of sand caked underneath my eyelids.
Allegra’s snide tone ricochets around my head.
I clear my throat.
“Oh, you need some water?” she asks, her voice infused with fake cheer. She’s speaking too loudly.
I lift a hand to the side of my head and her chuckle causes my eyes to narrow.
She sighs and strides over to where I’m sitting, placing a glass of water on the coffee table.
“I hate myself for catering to you,” she announces, more to herself than me.
“Thank you,” I manage, lifting the glass to take a sip.
Allegra rolls her eyes, not bothering to respond.
The cool water wakes me up a little. My stomach feels queasy, the contents sloshing together, as I force myself to sit all the way up.
I watch Allegra for signs. Clearly, I showed up here drunk. Obviously, my waking up on the couch means I’m in the proverbial doghouse. But what the hell did I say—or worse, do—to warrant her reaction?
She regards me coolly, her arms crossed over her chest, her nails tapping against her arm. “You don’t even know, do you?”
I clear my throat. “Know…which part?”
She sighs, staring up at the ceiling, begging some celestial being for patience. “You showed up drunk out of your mind.”
I wince. “I know; I’m sorry.”
“And told me you fucking love me,” she spits out.
My neck snaps up and my eyes latch onto hers. The pain, mixed with longing, that I read in her irises pulls me up short. It knocks the breath from my lungs and causes my chest to ache. I hurt her, again.
“I do—” I start to explain myself. My actions. My fucking words that should make her feel good, not hurt.
“Don’t say it,” she cuts me off, her hand flailing forward. “I want to believe you, Derek. I want to fucking trust you. Instead, you left me hanging all afternoon—”
“I called you!” I throw out, defensive.
Surprise washes over her expression. “No, you didn’t.”
“Yeah. I called you from Hendrix’s place. Part of me hoped you’d swing through. It went straight to voicemail.”
Allegra’s eyes close as some of her anger fades. “I didn’t get. I passed by the NGO yesterday and sometimes have spotty service.” She opens her eyes and sighs. “But still, I called you and messaged you several times.
“But you won’t talk to me,” I point out, zeroing in on the real issue. “I’m trying here, Allegra. And I know I’m messing some things up, but I’m giving you my best.”
She chuckles and lifts an eyebrow. Her pointed look scans me.
I sigh. “Not right at this moment.”
“I want something real, that I can count on,” she says softly.
I grip the back of my neck. “You’re not giving me a real shot.”
“You haven’t earned one yet,” she reminds me.
I drop my head because, she’s fucking right.
And yet, how can I earn any semblance of trust if she’s going to hold my past mistakes over my head?
The shit from yesterday invades my mind, rolling back full force.
Wanting to be honest with Allegra, as straightforward as possible, I confess the truth.
“I woke up yesterday confused. Unsettled. You were sleeping so peacefully and all I wanted was a guitar. So I bounced, went to a studio my boy Hendrix owns, and played with this song—the song that’s been messing with me—for hours. ”
“My song?” she murmurs, recalling that night from over the summer.
“Yeah,” I admit, my voice low. “Can’t get it right.
” My eyes hold hers for a long beat. She averts her gaze.
I continue, “I texted you that I was getting some work done. I met up with Johan about the label, that turned into whiskey tasting and lunch. He tried to get me to play fucking golf.” I scoff. “That’ll be the day.”
Allegra cracks an almost-smile. Yeah, picturing me on a golf course is laughable.
“Hendrix told me to roll back through. He had some local guys looking to jam, and to be straight with you, Allegra? I wanted to fucking play. Not to perfect a song or record or do the business side of shit. I wanted to play. With no expectations, with no end result in mind. So I went and it was…it was good.”
She sits down next to me on the couch. She’s curious because she’s not pushing me through her apartment door. Still, her tone is sarcastic. “That why you drank?”
“No.” I snort. “That came afterwards. Hendrix was having people over. I decided to grab a beer. And I missed you. So, I called you but when I got your voicemail, instead of bouncing, I had another drink and…”
“One thing led to another.”
“Exactly,” I say, relieved she understands.
“It always does with your kind.”
“My kind?” I rear back.
She flicks her fingers at me. “Musicians. Artists. The creative ones who can’t help but feel…
I get it, Derek.” She finally looks at me.
“I get why you want to play; I know what music means to you. But for you to show up here, wasted, and tell me you love me after everything that happened between us… God, it felt like…”
“What?” I lean closer. Brush her hair behind her ear.
“It felt like a slap in the face. Like you were mocking me. Like I was the dumb, good, wifey kind of girl who sits at home and waits while her man is off, doing whatever the hell he wants, with whoever he wants.”
“It’s not like that, babe. I was in a shitty mood yesterday.
I tried to see Levi but I’m not on his approved guest list. When I left the facility, I saw you called.
I wanted to call you back but the headspace I was in, as pissed off as I was, I knew I’d just pick a fight with you.
Plus, I’m still fielding fucking emails from my so-called dad…
I went to the studio to blow off steam and make music.
The drinks weren’t part of my plan but once they happened, I just wanted you.
I wanted to see you. Kiss you. Feel you and put you to bed. ” I grin at her.
She sighs heavily. I cup the side of her cheek and she leans into my touch. My thumb brushes across her bottom lip.
“I’m sorry, Allegra. I’m sorry for making you feel anything less than what you are. Which is everything.” It’s the most honest I can be, given the circumstances.
“I believe you, Derek. I know right now, you are sorry. You feel bad. You have regret or whatever. But I also know you’re going to do it again.
And again. And I’m not the kind of woman, nor do I want to be, who is going to sit around and take it.
Wait for it. I want more. I want to be able to trust you.
To let my guard down. To not overanalyze every detail wondering if it’s a head game.
” She shakes her head. “Fuck, I deserve better.”
Shit. That pulls me up short because I can’t argue with it.
Even I know she deserves better than me. More.
I drop my hand from her face. “I know,” I agree quietly.
She’s not telling me anything new and yet, hearing her voice her wants helps me see them in a new way. If I don’t get my act together, I’ll lose her. Again.
And I’m not willing to do that.
“You look rough,” Mav comments when I enter my condo.
I flip him the middle finger and he pretends to catch it and places it in his pocket. As if I’d blow him a fucking kiss. I roll my eyes.
“Let me guess…” Mav taps his finger against his bottom lip, pretending to be thoughtful. But since no good thoughts arise from his brain, it’s all a front. “You’re hungover.”
“Ding, ding, ding. Johnny, tell him what he’s won,” I deadpan.
Mav grins. “And you pissed off A.”
I glare at him.
He drops his mouth open and brings his hands up to his cheeks, feigning shock. “I won more goodies?”
I snort. “Fuck off.”
“What’d you do?”
“Told her I love her,” I admit.
Mav rears back, surprise and disbelief mixing in his eyes. “Seriously? Did you get drunk beforehand and botch the delivery or afterwards when she told you to take a hike?”
“Why can’t you buy your own place and not live at mine?” I ask.
He shrugs and eats a handful of Cheetos. “I’d feel bad about how lonely you’d be.”
“You’re not great company, Mav.”
He laughs. “Before and afterwards, huh? Gonna be hard to come back from a double whammy.”
“I shouldn’t have shown up drunk.”
“Never a good look,” Mav agrees.
I wait for him to continue. He chomps on his fucking Cheetos and watches me.
“Are you going to say something useful?” I finally snap.
He grins. “Just waiting for you to ask, Reign.”
“Fuck,” I mutter.
“Say please,” Mav carries on.
I glower at him. His grin widens.
“You need to woo her,” he relents, tipping back his head. He lifts the bag over his mouth and shakes the last few Cheetos down his throat.
“You’re disgusting.”
“And a much better wooer,” he says cheerily.
“What the hell is a wooer? How do you woo someone?”
“You have to do something nice for her, something that makes her feel special. Cared for.”
“Like a date?”
Mav sighs and shakes his head. “You’ve set the bar so low, most girls would rather step over it. Be thankful you’re a rockstar, Reign. You literally have nothing else going for you.”
I flip him the middle finger again.
“Like a grand gesture,” he clarifies.
I snap my fingers. “What if I take her bowling?”
Mav stares at me for a beat before erupting in laughter. “Oh, God. That’s good. Yeah, yes, take her bowling.”
“I can’t tell if you’re being serious,” I growl. Turning away from Mav and his obnoxious laughter, I pour myself a cup of coffee. Resting my back against the countertop ledge, I take a sip and regard my friend. “I like bowling.”
Mav sighs and drags a hand across his eyes. “Bowling could be cute. Honestly, it’s not a grand gesture, but if you do something too nice, she may wonder if you’ve got ulterior motives. She’s a smart girl and you’re a shitty boyfriend, date, hell, even a shitty friend.”
“Thanks for the ringing endorsement.”
“If I haven’t told you yet, I’m telling you now. I’ll always pick Allegra’s side over yours.”
“You’re living at my house.”
He shrugs. “You won’t kick me out.”
“You know that—how?”
He shakes the empty bag of Cheetos. “I buy the good snacks. But I digress.” He looks at me and shifts forward on his barstool. “Take her bowling. Take her out on a date. Do something easy and fun and normal. I think that’s where you and A click the most.”
“Doing normal things?” I wonder aloud.
“Yeah. She wants something she can trust. She wants emotional stability. You’re searching for real, for someone who likes you for who you are instead of what you represent.
” He shrugs. “Normal activities, everyday things, meet both of your emotional needs. Bowling, beer, and pizza it is. Oh!” His eyes light up.
“Maybe there will be an arcade too. You can win her an oversized teddy bear. She’d love that, having a souvenir of your time together.
And it will make you feel tough and manly to carry around a giant purple panda. ”
“I don’t like you as much as you think I do,” I warn him.
He laughs and slips off the barstool. Moving back to the pantry, he rummages around for more snacks like a fucking raccoon.
I don’t say anything else, but I think about Mav’s assessment.
Allegra desires emotional stability and I’m searching for real.
Mav’s right. Not that I’ll give him the satisfaction of knowing it. But I do want real. I want to share something with a woman who sees me, who likes and respects and cares for me, because I’m Derek.
Not Reign. Not a Clover.
Just me.
And Allegra saw me for who I am from that first night, at her birthday bonfire.
I sealed my fate—and hers—the first time I kissed her.