22. Pulling the Plug
Iwake up hoping—damn near praying—that what happened last night was just a dream.
But the universe isn’t that kind to me lately. Faye’s side of the bed is empty. Who would be fool enough to sleep next to the man who shot down their love declaration?
She stayed on the couch last night.
I twist on the bed, an emptiness gnawing at me. Something has changed between us, and I have to deal with it.
For one, we will never have sex again. Never going to do anything that might make her get more silly ideas in her head.
Closing my eyes, my mind goes straight to her words.
I love you, Blake.
It sounded so simple. And yet, hearing her say it felt like things were getting real complicated, real fast.
Why did she have to ruin things?
And why did I let things go that far?
Less than two months ago, I was on this bed, twisting and turning while Faye’s perfect body lay beside me. Even while enduring the sweet, slow torture night after night, I had my head on straight. I knew that I could never touch her.
And then my resolve flew out the window. She became a drug I couldn’t get enough of.
I’ve started to accept that I’ll never be fully over Faye Strummer, how crazy she drives me, and I am fine with that.
But falling in love is an entirely different ballpark. That, I’m not going to allow.
Self-hatred burning within me, I swing my legs off the bed. The last thing I want to do is see Faye right now, to look at the pain in her huge green eyes and apologize. To deal with still wanting her even after her outburst.
I have no choice, though. I was right last night. We have to figure out a compromise that works for both of us. Because, damn it, I still want to help her.
I stride out of the room, unsure of what to expect. I’ll find a way to be fine with any reaction that’s short of weeping or wailing. I brace myself as I approach the couch, only to see . . .
Nothing.
Faye isn’t here. Her bag, guitar, and notepad are gone. A quick peek outside the cabin door reveals that her car is not here anymore either.
I crash on the couch, mingled feelings of both relief and emptiness burning inside me. I’m glad we don’t have to do the morning after, but I’m aware that it’s only going to be more awkward the next time we see each other. Also, a tiny part of me feels an insane sense of loss.
Don’t be dumb, I tell myself. The more I think about Faye’s love admission, the more I’m trying to persuade myself that she didn’t really mean it. Emotions were high last night. We’d also just had sex.
She’s probably going to get over it in a couple of days.
My cell pings with a text, and I reach for it, wondering if it’s her. But it’s only Ken.
Emergency practice at noon.You coming in soon?
I reply in the affirmative,almost relieved. I looked forward to unwinding this weekend, but I’m glad I don’t have to stay by myself and ruminate over Faye all day.
I shower and dress within minutes. Then I close up the cabin. Faye has a key of her own, but even if she didn’t, I highly doubt she’ll want to come back here.
Within a few hours, I’m pulling into the Philly Titans’ complex in the heart of Philly. My teammates are in the changing room, not looking too pleased about their day off being taken away at the last minute.
“You look well rested,” Ken says when he spots me.
I don’t need to think too long to realize that he’s being sarcastic. Last night was nothing short of hellish.
“Hey, Blake.” Luke brushes past me. “Now I don’t want you threatening to murder me or whatever, but I’ve got to ask this question. If not, my girl’s literally going to break up with me. Can we get tickets for Faye’s show in New York next month?”
Of course. Barely two seconds in, and her name has already come up.
I switch to the default mode of a happy boyfriend. “Pretty sure it’s all sold out.” It’s hard to force those words out casually. How did I convince myself that I was getting more comfortable with this charade?
Luke groans. “What about the one in Miami in November?”
“They’re all booked, bro,” I force through gritted teeth.
His groan is louder this time. “I’m going to lose the hottest girl I’ve ever had, and it’s all because of you.”
Thankfully, Faye’s name does not come up again. Not through practice, and not after we shower and start heading off to our own destinations. Ken hitches a ride in my car.
“We’re going to Alex’s,” he announces, not waiting for my opinion. “His wife—your sister—is out all day. We can have some real fun.”
I mull it over in my head. I was half considering calling Brit and letting her know what happened between Faye and me last night, but I thought better of it. She couldcomfort me, but she’ll probably say some stuff that’ll make me feel like a jackass too.
Drinks and games with the guys sounds like a hell of a lot more fun.
“Fine,” I respond. Within twenty minutes, we’re pulling into Alex’s driveway. Before he got married and had a kid, Alex had a sweet bachelor pad I loved crashing in. He traded it in for a five-bedroom in an up-and-coming Philly suburb.
I can’t help but cringe. Just another example of how love destroys things.
Alex has a big pot of pasta and a cooler of beer and soda ready, and he’s already drinking when we walk into his living room. He takes a swig of beer as he watches us approach.
“Switching up of the practice schedules was always my least favorite part,” he says with a cocky grin. “Got to say, I’m glad I have control over my day again.”
Ken scowls. “Yeah, nothing like changing diapers and washing bottles for the rest of your thirties.” He slumps beside Alex on the couch. “You going to put a game on or something?’
As Alex sets up, I look around the room. I’ve been here more than fifty times already, and the lime green walls, bamboo furnishings, and pictures on the mantel feel as familiar to me as my own cabin. But I newly realize how different this spot is from Alex’s bachelor pad. Homey, full of life, yes . . . but also restricting in an odd sort of way.
“The nanny’s got the little one for the afternoon,” Alex says, interrupting my thoughts. “So, I’m not going to be changing diapers for a few hours. Also, you know, since he’s been potty-trained, there’re a lot less diapers in general.”
Ken rolls his eyes. “Still doesn’t mean he doesn’t suck up all your attention when he’s around.”
Alex grins. “Yeah, he kind of does that, doesn’t he?”
My chest growls with discomfort as I grab a plate of food and settle down. There’s no use denying it. No matter what I try to tell myself, the facts are clear. Married father Alex is a hundred times happier than the Alex I knew as a bachelor.
In-love Alex is even better.
I let out a sharp exhale, hating myself. Doesn’t matter how much better off Alex is now. Some men just aren’t built for this kind of family lifestyle. Some people can’t thrive in a loving, happy marriage.
My father certainly couldn’t.
The intro for Grand Theft Auto comes flashing on the screen. Ken and Alex each grab a controller. “You want in, White?”
“No.” Reaching for a diet coke rather than beer, I down half of it in one gulp, washing down the pasta. I prefer not to drink on practice days. “I’d rather watch you guys fail at it . . . for now.”
Ken grins, but his expression turns serious a second later. “Don’t be so pissy about Luke. He’s just an idiot.”
Alex looks between us. “What happened? What did he do?”
“Nothing,” I say quickly, but Ken’s nothing if not insensitive.
“Kept bothering Blake about Faye and some damn tickets.” Ken glances at me. “You’ve got to understand, the other guys don’t know this relationship is all PR.” He pauses, and I know he’s about to say something that might piss me off. “It’s also harder for us to know when you behave like, you know, like at our last Philly game.”
“I watched the clips on TV.” Alex’s gaze is focused on the screen. But he, at least, sounds a lot more cautious. “Seems like you’re settling in.”
Settling in. Yeah, that’s one way to put it.
They say nothing for a few moments. Just when I think I’m getting off the hook, Ken looks up from his game.
“I just don’t get Luke, though. I know he was being insane, but what’s the obsession with the tickets? He keeps asking about them, all the damn time.”
I recall the conversation where I almost lost my cool. Ken’s right. Luke was asking about Faye’s tickets a lot.
“He got a girl or something?” Alex asks.
Ken shrugs. “Yeah, he said something like that. Doesn’t mean he needs to keep bringing up Faye Strummer every single day.”
Alex is grinning again. “Well, when you get someone you love, you’re bound to do stupid things.”
“The only thing Luke is in love with is tapping that ass,” Ken mutters. He looks over at Alex. “But what’s your theory? Love makes men do crazy things?”
Alex pulls a face. “I mean, I couldn’t even stand thinking about a baby. Next thing, I hear Brit is pregnant, and I’m looking forward to the day I’ll be changing my first diaper.”
My discomfort expands. Their conversation doesn’t involve me, but it’s getting deeply personal. And I can’t help feeling like it’s going to go even deeper.
“How did you know, though?”
“Know that I’d love my baby?”
“No, fool. How did you know you were ready to take the leap with Brit? I mean, you were in a fake relationship. Next thing, you two are getting married.”
I remember asking our friend Reggie this exact question on the day of his wedding. His answer did nothing to change how I felt about the concept of lifelong companionship.
On the other hand, though, that conversation happened before I met Faye.
History must be laughing at me right now.
I kind of understand why my friends were so flummoxed about my dating her out of nowhere. Honestly, they should have given me a much harder time.
“Wasn’t so much of a leap as it was a slide,” Alex says.
“Now what the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Does the man ever stop grinning nowadays? “Just saying. There was no fear or force involved. Didn’t have to leap. It was a slide. It felt natural, like it was the next step I’d been waiting for all my life.”
“Don’t be so melodramatic, you aren’t writing a love song.” Ken shoots a cautious glance my way, and my emptiness increases as I think of Faye’s lyrics from the day before.
My friends are kind of right, I admit to myself. I was all over the place recently. I had no business getting Ben to back off her. Or texting her that damn much. Orcreating a routine that involved seeing each other every day.
From the moment I marched into her dressing room and fucked her within earshot of so many of her employees, I changed our relationship forever. And that confused her into believing she is in love with me.
It’s all my fault. But it’s also a pretty clear misunderstanding that can be sorted out quickly.
Whenever I see her again.
“It does sound like a love song, but it’s the truth,” Alex chimes in again. “I had feelings for Brit all through our PR stint, and I think she felt the same way. Just couldn’t find a way to admit it to myself, you know. And then, she started to talk about moving out of Philly. Realizing how empty I would be without her led me to being honest with myself.”
This conversation is too damn personal. Almost like Alex is trying to come at me. I stand up, deciding to head to the other room.
But then the ringing of Alex’s phone distorts the atmosphere. He pauses the game and picks it up.
“Oh,” he says a second later, a frown replacing his grin. “I’ll tell him.”
He looks at me. “When did you hear from Faye last?”
My heart brims with guilt. Am I going to have to tell them everything that happened last night?
“Who just called you?” It always works like magic, deflecting a question with another.
Alex definitely falls for it. “Brit. She says that Faye’s causing a commotion on X.”
Fuck. Did she make a post about us? Make our breakup public before we even had a chance to discuss it?
“How?”
“Well . . . she canceled all her upcoming shows without warning and took down all her social media accounts.”
My heart misses a beat.
Faye canceling everything and disappearing into the wind. That sounds familiar.
She ran away . . . again. And this time, I’m the flame that lit the fuse.