Chapter Eighteen
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
ZANDER
“ O kay, guys, let’s take five,” Asher announced.
“What about we say more like ten?” Darius suggested, spinning a drumstick between his fingers.
“I need at least fifteen. Daddy needs a protein bar,” Evans said, setting down his bass.
“If you refer to yourself as Daddy one more time, E—Asher pinched the bridge of his nose. “Seriously, no one needs to hear that.”
Evans cackled as I muffled a laugh. He headed toward the snack counter to grab a water bottle from the mini-fridge.
If there was one thing Asher excelled at, it was providing ample snacks.
We never went without food when he was around.
Since the charity concert, we’d been practicing nonstop in preparation for the tour. It wasn’t that there was much difference between the US and the international tour, but it had been a while since we’d played together. It was important that we came together as one on that stage.
Asher had a penthouse in New York, where we’d been staying, and it came complete with a private recording studio and practice rooms.
It’s the rock-star starter package, honestly.
It had been a crazy few weeks. I couldn’t go out on the street without being mauled by fans. People magazine had dubbed me Rock’s Newest Hottie—whatever that meant. Macon had said Ocracoke had been flooded with tourists, wanting to see where the Zander Tate had been born.
Hard eye roll.
It was easy to see how someone could become addicted to this—the heady feeling of fame. But I wasn’t worried. I had enough people in my life to keep me humble.
Almost enough.
I pulled out my phone, and after a moment, it was ringing. But once again, it wasn’t her.
It never was.
I answered on the second ring.
“How’s my famous brother today?” Macon greeted me.
“I’m good, man. How are you?”
“Well, I had to see your ugly face on the front of a magazine while I was trying to buy eggs yesterday, so I’ve been better.”
I laughed. “Anyone ask you to sign it?”
“No, thank God. I think enough time has passed since those photos of the two of us leaked that most people have forgotten about me. It’s a good thing, too. Because if one more woman came up to me and asked to see that tattoo on my rib cage, Marin was going to kill someone.”
“That would be awkward for you,” I quipped.
“Would definitely make my job a lot harder.” He paused, and then I heard him say my name under his breath. “Marin says hi.”
“Hi, Marin.”
Another pause. More whispering.
“I’m not telling him that. Marin, fuck. I told you, I’m not getting in the middle of this. No, you aren’t either. OUCH!”
I pressed my lips together. “Everything okay?”
Macon growled. “My wife feels very strongly that I should tell you that Elena is in town.”
I had tried to ask Macon about Elena before, and he’d refused to tell me anything, saying, “If you want to know, fucking ask her yourself.”
And then he’d muttered under his breath about how we were just a bunch of idiots.
I perked up. “Why?”
“Would you fucking stop kicking me? I’ll tell him.”
“It’s the anniversary of Daniel’s death, and she decided to spend it with Marin. She, uh…she cut ties with her parents last month. Officially.”
That was a surprise. I’d always hoped she might have the courage to do it one day, but never expected it to be so soon.
Macon and I both knew how complex emotions could be when dealing with a toxic parent. It had taken me weeks to finally work up the courage to ask Macon what had happened to our own father. I was so terrified his answer wouldn’t be definitive enough for me and that I’d be too scared to ever go back to Ocracoke. But he wasn’t coming back. He’d landed himself in prison somewhere in South Carolina. He couldn’t touch us anymore.
“Is she okay?”
“Yeah, she’s good,” he answered. “I think it was harder to sever the connection with her father, obviously. He never hurt her directly, but he also never defended her either.”
“Maybe someday, he’ll figure out what he’s missing out on,” I said. “But if not, she’s better off.”
“Tell him about the?—”
“I will. Give me a second.”
“Tell me about the what?”
“He can hear everything you’re saying, babe. You might as well just tell him yourself,” Macon said to Marin, a touch of amusement in his tone.
She must have grabbed the phone because she was suddenly louder in my ear. “She didn’t just come here for Daniel. She came here to celebrate. She quit her job.”
I froze. My eyes were fixated on the New York skyline, but my mind was back on that island.
“Do something for you.”
“Zander?”
“Yeah, I’m here,” I managed to say.
“Look, I don’t know why you didn’t call,” she went on. I opened my mouth to say something, but none of the reasons I had to offer up were good enough. “But I wanted to tell you something she told me before it’s too late.”
“Too late?”
“She saw your dreams come true on that stage, Zander, and she couldn’t compete. So, she focused on the one thing she could control—her own. She quit her job, cut ties with her parents, and finally started doing things for herself, but?—”
“But what?”
“She misses you.”
I swallowed hard, finally realizing what a complete idiot I’d been. “I gotta go.”
“Zander—” She called out my name in confusion.
“My dreams didn’t come true on that stage, Marin,” I told her. “They came true the night I met her.”
“Well then, where the hell are you going?”
“To book a flight,” I said.
ELENA
“What did you not understand about the word no ?” I asked my best friend for the fourth time.
She shrugged, pulling into the parking lot like she’d lost her damn mind. “You said we could do whatever I wanted today. This is what I want.”
“I really should have put parameters on that,” I groaned as we both stepped out of the car. “How the hell did Macon get out of this?”
“He’s spending the night with Billy and Eli. They haven’t had a guys’ night since we got back from the honeymoon.”
“So, he gets out of this because he has a penis? That’s what you’re saying?”
She rolled her eyes as we both headed for the door.
It had been an emotional weekend.
Friday marked the sixth anniversary of Daniel’s passing.
We’d spent some time at the memorial, where Daniel’s name was etched, along with the twelve others who were lost that day. We placed flowers, and Marin left a small painting. After, we headed back to Macon and Marin’s and made a big meal full of Daniel’s favorite—nachos—and then spent the night sharing our favorite stories of my brother.
If my mom or dad had tried to contact me, I wouldn’t have known.
I’d blocked their number two weeks ago, and I’d never felt freer.
We were barely to the door, and I could already hear someone butchering Carrie Underwood’s “Before He Cheats.”
“I think a few guys had better watch their cars tonight.” Marin snorted out a laugh. “That girl sounds pissed.”
“Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Marin, but most men suck.” I pulled the door open, and the sound of the pissed-off girl’s voice doubled.
“That’s not true,” she argued as I let her move past me, and we headed toward the bar.
“You’re still in the honeymoon phase of marriage. You’re not allowed to have an opinion.”
She pursed her lips as we found two empty seats. “And you’re still in the I’m so stubborn I refuse to text Zander stage .
The next act went up, a guy intent on belting out “Bohemian Rhapsody.”
Haven’t we all had enough trauma?
“He hasn’t?—”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I know. He hasn’t texted you either. But has it ever occurred to you that maybe he’s just as scared as you are?”
I scoffed as the bartender came our way. “Scared of what? He’s not the one who has to watch grown-ass women throw panties at his feet.”
Okay, I hadn’t actually seen that, but it didn’t mean it hadn’t happened.
The bartender took our drink orders—or mine. Marin stuck with a Coke, avoiding the virgin drinks tonight. She’d gotten a few judgy looks on her honeymoon and decided that was enough of that.
People needed to mind their own damn business.
“I’m just saying,” she went on, very much not minding her own business, “perhaps you’re both being a little stubborn.”
She gave a pointed look at the leather jacket I wore, and smiled.
I let out a huff as the man onstage finally finished.
“You already said that. And I’m not stubborn,” I argued. “He’s the one who left. He’s the one who asked me to go with him and then bailed without a single word.”
“And you’re the one who is too scared to demand an explanation.”
I opened my mouth to rebuke her, but instead, I just whined like a child. “Why are we even here? You’re not even paying attention and?—”
My mouth fell open as he took the stage.
“What the fuck?”
“That’s why we’re here,” Marin said smugly.
The crowd roared, recognizing their local boy immediately. He took a minute, positioning a single stool in the middle of the stage, and then took a seat. He had a guitar strapped across his broad shoulders.
So fucking sexy.
Shut up. We’re mad at him.
“Hey, everyone,” he said, making the crowd go even crazier.
It was like an encore of the charity concert, except we were in karaoke hell and he was playing the role of Asher Knight.
He was so much hotter than Asher Knight.
“I hope you don’t mind me coming and crashing your evening.” Every single phone was out and recording. “But you see, I met this girl at one of these karaoke nights. Not just any girl. The girl.”
My heart fluttered rapidly in my chest as his eyes met mine.
“And I’ve been trying to find a way to tell her exactly how I feel, and since she has a thing for my mouth—shit, sorry, I mean, my voice.”
The crowd erupted in laughter, and I just shook my head as a cocky grin crept across his lips.
“I figured this might be the best way to do it.”
People were starting to figure out who he was looking at, and several phones were now pointed at me as I watched him. I tried not to be nervous, but as he strummed the first note, everything and everyone else seemed to just melt away.
Tears stung the back of my eyes as he sang a slow, haunting version of “Take on Me” by A-Ha. By the last note, I probably looked like a damn raccoon from the layer of mascara that had run down my face, but I didn’t care.
I ran to him, launching myself into his arms the second he set his guitar on the ground. He caught me, thank God, as thunderous applause filled the bar.
When his lips met mine, it felt like coming home, and I knew in that moment, we’d be able to handle anything as long as we held on to this feeling.
“Nice jacket.” His voice was possessive. Raspy. So fucking hot.
“Did you miss it?” I looked up at him like it was the first time. Like I was memorizing every detail.
“No, I missed you.” He brushed hair behind my ear. “You quit your job.”
“I sold my apartment, too,” I added with a smirk.
He cupped my chin as people still clapped and cheered.
“Are you saying you’re homeless, Louie?” He grinned.
“Yep.” I feigned a pout. “My handbags and I are all alone.”
“Sounds like you need a place to stay.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“Well, several places actually. How do you feel about Spain? And London? Maybe Paris?”
I bit my lip as a slow smile spread across my face. “You might regret that when you see how much luggage I bring.”
“You haven’t seen my guitar collection yet.”
“We’re gonna need a really big house,” I said.
“I’m a rock star now. Let’s get three.”
He kissed me again. This time, it was deeper. Slower. When he pulled back, his eyes were so intense that they stole my breath. “I love you, Elena. I should have told you that weeks ago. I knew it then. My life has been hell without you.”
My lips wobbled at the sound of his words. “I love you, too, and you were right; it wasn’t a sacrifice, giving up my shitty job and my lonely apartment. I’m ready to start this life—this adventure—with you.”
“Then, let’s get out of here,” he suggested. “I’m sick of all these cameras, and there are about a hundred different things I want to do to you right now that are definitely not appropriate for the internet.”
“I mean, they might be.” I laughed. “Depending on where you look.”
“No one gets to see any of this,” he said as his hand slid down my ass, “but me.”
I bit my lower lip as heat bloomed in my belly. “Let me go say good-bye to Marin, and I’ll be right back.”
“Okay,” he said, but then his grin turned mischievous. “Just don’t run off this time.”
“Never,” I answered. “I’m yours. Forever.”