Chapter 8
Chapter eight
Hendrix · Now
Thunder – Boys Like Girls
The pub is heaving tonight.
My shouted ‘excuse me’s’ are swallowed by the deafening noise as I squeeze through the crowd.
I spot Riley tucked in a booth in the farthest corner of the room. Ear defenders on, she spins a fidget between her fingers, bopping her head to the pop music blaring from the speakers.
“For you, my love.” Sliding into the booth, I hand her a margarita and prop my martini on the table. “Did you order food already?”
“Yes. Three halloumi fries, two loaded chips, and…” She clicks her fingers, chewing her lip.
“Wings?”
“Yes! Two lots of wings. They didn’t have garlic parm though, so you’re stuck with lemon pepper.”
“Honestly, I’m so hungry, I could eat a horse. Any wings are welcome.”
“Did you forget to eat lunch again?” Her nose twitches at my nod. “You need to set reminders on your phone like I do. They really help.”
“It’s fine. I just got distracted.”
“In the studio?”
“Yep.” In the studio, on the phone, to that one rock star who could make me forget my own name at the sound of his rich, baritone voice. “Talia has me mixing three different albums at the minute. I’m knackered.”
“Poor baby,” she says. “Did you see that—”
“Hello, hello.” Talia shouts, careening to a stop at the edge of the booth.
Tossing her bag beneath the table, she slides in beside me, two gin glasses clinking in one hand.
She drains one in a single swallow and places the other down on the table. “I’m late, I know. Remind me to elope for my next marriage.”
“Whatever will Charlie say if she hears you talking about your next marriage before you’ve even gotten through this one?” I raise a brow.
“Pretty sure she’ll welcome it. We spent two hours arguing over tablecloths.” Talia slaps a hand on the table. “Ivory. Bloody. Tablecloths. Can you even believe it?”
“Yes,” Riley replies simply.
Talia spears Riley with a steely gaze and I hide my grin behind my glass.
“Anyway, not the point of this meeting.”
“I thought it was just Friday night drinks?” I ask.
Talia ignores me as she leans over me to talk to Riley. “I called it because our good friend Hendrix over here has been keeping secrets.”
“Oh, here we go.” I down my drink.
Riley taps her fingers on the table. “Hendrix has no secrets.”
Talia smirks. “If that’s true, then pray tell why we didn’t know about her so-called friendship with Cole Hayes.”
I roll my eyes, before scanning the crowd for a server.
“He’s not her friend,” Riley says matter-of-factly.
I fold my arms over my chest and cock a smug brow at Talia.
But then, Riley drops a bombshell, “He was her boyfriend,” and I reel back, my head bouncing off the leather.
Talia curses. “He was what?!”
“How do you know that?” I ask Riley.
She readjusts her ear defenders. “I saw the picture in your bedside drawers last year when I was grabbing your charger for you.”
“There’s a picture in the drawers?” Talia gapes, eyes lit up. “And what is this picture of?”
My cheeks sting and I sink deeper into the cushion.
“She’s on his lap, guitar in her hands, they’re kissing,” Riley says. “It’s quite steamy actually. Hands. Everywhere.”
Good God. End me now.
“Oh this is so juicy.” Talia cackles, pushing off the table. She points at me. “Don’t even think about running off. I’m getting more drinks, and then I expect details. All of them!”
She shoots off and leaves silence in her wake like the tornado she is.
I turn to Riley, who watches me with a frown, a muscle in cheek jumping. “Was I not supposed to say that?”
“It’s fine.” I chuckle.
If there’s one thing I’ll never do, it’s have a go at Riley for her blurting things aloud. Social cues don’t come easy to her. I’m honestly just surprised she hasn’t said anything before now.
“Why did you never ask me about it?”
She flicks the spinner in her hand, gaze locked on the whizzing wheel. “You’d tell me if you wanted to. It’s the only reason I said something now. I thought with Talia asking, you must have mentioned it to her. I wouldn’t have said anything if I knew.”
“God, I love you.” I press my pinkie finger to hers and the corner of her mouth tilts up. “It’s rare to find a friend who just lets you be. Case in point…”
I choke on a laugh as Talia shoves through the crowd, a tray tight in her hands, loaded with our usual drinks and a few-too-many shot glasses filled with black liquid. “I’m so not making it through tonight unscathed.”
Liquid splashes against the metal as she places it down.
I clench my teeth. “Did you really need to get twelve shots?”
“Yes.” Talia says, dividing the shots between us before she leans back against the booth. “I need to forget about tablecloths. You need enough liquid courage that you’ll spill the beans on your secret love life. And Riley…”
She glances at Riley then, who sniffs a shot and shrugs. “I just like Sambuca.”
“Good enough.” Talia lifts a glass to her lips and looks at me. “Bottoms up.”
Ah, fuck it.
Aniseed sears my tongue when I tip the glass. I cringe, biting down so it doesn’t crawl back up.
My stomach rolls and I gag. “You just had to go for Sambuca, didn’t you?”
“It loosens you up quickly.” Talia hums. “So yes.”
“Tequila loosens her up quicker,” Riley says.
“Then you can get that on the next round.”
“I am not fighting my way through that crowd.” Riley scoffs. “You can just take my card.”
Talia nods. “Deal. Now, Hendrix.”
“Yes…” I absentmindedly drum my fingers on the tabletop, sipping my martini to chase away the bitterness still clinging to my tongue.
“Don’t leave us hanging.” Her eyes burn the side of my head.
I consider my options.
There’s no real reason to not tell them about my relationship with Cole. It’s just, every time I think of bringing him up, something holds me back.
He’s the elephant in the room that is my life.
He was mine, and mine alone, not someone I ever felt the need to share with the world.
I snatch another shot and drain it.
“I met Cole when I was fourteen,” I tell them. “My family had just moved to town. He was the cute boy in my form room. We clicked, right away. Started dating a year later. And we were together for five years, right up until my last year of university.”
Talia’s voice softens, a mixture of awe and surprise slipping through her tone. “It was serious, then?”
I shrug. “As serious as any teen relationship can be.”
“Did you love him?” Riley asks.
I twirl the stem of my empty glass, gaze drifting to the aged black and grey microphone on my wrist.
Nestled between my vivid coloured American traditional patchwork sleeve, it clings to my skin like a ghost. I thought about covering once. But I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.
I often wonder if my Gibson hummingbird still stains his skin too.
Riley’s question hangs in the air like a black cloud.
“I taught him to play guitar, you know.” A smile lifts my lips.
“Saint had been trying for months, but he was terrible. No matter what Saint did, Cole just couldn’t get it. So, we traded lessons.”
I sip my drink.
“He taught me to skateboard, I taught him guitar. He played the piano, I wrote the music. Everything that was ours alone became shared. Music, movies, hobbies. Nothing was off-limits. He wasn’t just my boyfriend. He was my favourite human in the whole entire world.”
I drag in a slow breath.
“So to answer your question, yes. I loved him. Very much so. But more than that, I lived for him.”
I swirl the final shot in the glass before tossing it back.
The burn is welcome. I choke it down as my eyes catch the microphone once more.
“And then I went right ahead and broke his heart.”