10. Bridger
10
brIDGER
W hen I’d gotten up the courage to walk next door and ask Saige to come over, I hadn’t worked through the possibility that she’d be completely uninterested in me. It’d always been something Corbin and I joked about, but here she is in my space with hardly a glance in my direction.
Maybe she just needs to let off some steam; it doesn’t mean she doesn’t like you.
The words rattle around my brain like a mantra I so desperately want to be true. She seemed stressed when she answered the door, and I liked being able to offer her a distraction.
I just thought the distraction would be me.
Sometime around the second hour, I’d finally taken off my rose-colored glasses and disappeared out onto the patio. I didn’t know the guy she was talking to, but it didn’t matter. I’d been wrong; Saige Reiser doesn’t need more time. She has no need for me at all.
Blowing out a breath, I drop into the nearest lounger, the beer I’d been nursing still cradled in my hand.
I should have grabbed a new one.
“What are you doing out here?” The feminine voice is mildly accusatory, and even though I’m trying to stem the heartbreak, I can’t help the way my lips tilt up in the corner.
“Trying to get away.”
“Why?” Saige asks, her body blocking the light from the porch and giving her a sort of halo.
Tilting my head up, I let myself stare at her—beautiful and annoyed and definitely not mine.
“I realized that the woman I really like, the one I’ve been trying like hell to impress, wasn’t playing hard to get.” I lift a shoulder and let it drop, my gaze shifting to somewhere behind her. “She’s just not interested in me, and I need to respect that.”
The silence is deafening as I duck my head and rub the back of my neck with my palm and hope she can’t see the way my face is flaming right now.
I probably shouldn’t have been so honest, but it’s not like I have anything to lose right now.
“What if…” The words are quiet, almost pained. “What if she had a shitty day and even though it was the wrong thing to do, she liked seeing you jealous?”
I would have been less surprised if she’d yelled thank God and then turned around and walked back inside, my mouth opening and closing a couple of times without making a sound.
“Why would she need to make me jealous? She should know she’s had my undivided attention since the moment I saw her.”
“Because she fell for a guy in a band when she was young and impressionable, and she believed every beautiful lie he told,” she admits, sitting at the end of the lounger and looking at me. “He ruined her, and she swore she’d never do it again. And tonight, I wanted to take my frustration out on you, put you in that box along with him.”
“But I’m not him.”
“You’re not but do you know how easy it is to get swept up in the glitter of it all? The shows, and the fans, traveling and?—”
“And I’m still not him, Saige,” I tell her, frustration leaking into my tone. “I love the band and I love the fans, but I also love playing in a hole-in-the-wall bar with a shitty sound system and one drunk guy asking me to play “Free Bird” from his stool in the corner.”
“Bridge—”
“I’m serious. It’s nice and it’s fun but I don’t need it to survive. I’ll always have the music, and I’ll keep making music even if it’s in my garage.”
“You know how I love that.”
“Yeah.” I swallow hard. “Do you feel better?”
“No,” she sighs, and even though I’m relieved, it’s not enough to erase the last couple of hours. “I thought you would’ve put up more of a fight tonight.”
“Saige, I’ve been fighting for you since the day I fucked up our date.”
I’ve been fighting for months.
“And I’m sorry about that.” I’m not sure if she’s sorry for her or me, but when I don’t answer, she adds, “I’m going to go home.”
“I’ll walk you.”
“You don’t have to…” Her sentence trails off as I set my beer down on the patio and push to stand before leading her toward the gate and holding it open.
Just one thing left to do.