“Kelly?” The familiar moment rocketed me into the past, when this had been a daily occurrence. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, all good, just finishing up some things for my mom.” She almost sounded shy. “Is Babs okay?”

  “Mom’s fine, passed out for the night. I was just about to head out myself.”

  “Okay, great. You need to rest while you can.”

  Silence fell, and it dragged on, creating a chasm. I missed the warmth that had always existed between us.

  “Well, I guess I’ll…”

  “Do you have plans…”

  We laughed as our words clashed over each other, then she said, “You go first.”

  I tried my question again. “Do you have plans tonight?”

  For a miserable heartbeat, I thought she was going to say she had a boyfriend or a husband or she’d turned lesbian, some response that would crush the rest of my heart. “No, not really. Why?”

  “Did you maybe…”

  Want to get together, fool around in the back seat like we used to? I’d make it worth your while. You can wear a skirt, and I’ll walk my fingers up your thigh, push your panties aside like I used to. Run my finger through your wetness, find every place that’s so sensitive, taste your sweet swollen bud.

  “Gage, are you okay?”

  I let out a strangled breath. Why was this so hard? Usually, I was so smooth with women. But then, most threw themselves at me, so I didn’t need to put any work in. “Want to go out for, I don’t know, a drink or something tonight?”

  I tapped my finger on the steering wheel while I waited through the silence.

  “You…you want to go out for drinks with me?”

  “Yeah, I want to blow off some steam, and I enjoyed talking to you today in the gazebo. I mean just a casual beer, maybe at Independence Pub.” When she didn’t respond, I felt the strong need to negate the silence on the other end of the phone. “You don’t have to, but I don’t really have anyone else to ask, and I don’t want to be alone. Everyone I used to know from New Hope has turned into a groupie. Either that or they don’t like me anymore. A lot of people think fame has gone to my head.”

  “Really?” I could hear the smile in her voice. “I can’t see that…”

  “Don’t be sarcastic. I’m ashamed to say that I acted like an ass when I first made it big. I was cocky, thought the world should bow at my feet.”

  I shook my head, remembering how badly I’d treated my friends. After shooting to fame, I’d been surrounded by yes men and people acting like I was a god. I stupidly allowed myself to believe it for a while. That was one reason I tried not to show my face around here, and I’d become spoiled to big city luxuries. The other reason still hadn’t given me an answer.

  “You? Cocky?” I could almost hear her roll her eyes.

  I snorted. “Unfortunately, that leaves me with no one to go for a drink with unless I want it plastered on YouTube, which is why I’m on my knees, metaphorically, asking you to come with me.”

  “And you think I want you to get on your knees?” There was a slapping sound, as if she’d smacked her hand over her mouth.

  “Do you?”

  No one had been home that day, and we’d been petting pretty heavy recently, so when she gave me a goodbye peck with a hint of tongue, it was like a torrent was released. Next thing I knew, we were torso to torso, her breasts pressed against my chest, my hands taking their fill. All I could think was how badly I wanted to be inside her. But I knew she wasn’t ready, and I refused to push.

  I did, however, push her down the hall to her room, shutting the door behind us. If I couldn’t have relief, one of us could. She let me kiss over her breasts and lower, past her abdomen until my mouth hovered over her mound. Through the material of her stretch jeans, I pressed my mouth into her heat, and she whimpered.

  Pulling away from her body, my fingers had been shaking as I unbuttoned her pants and slowly pulled them down her lean thighs. Taking the first lick, god, that had been like tasting ice cream for the first time in my life. Heavenly. I’d looked up to see if she liked it as much as I did, and our eyes met, the amazement in them matching the gasp she gave as I sucked her clit into my mouth.

  Her breathing speeded up, audible over the phone, and I wondered if she was back in the same memory.

  “So, you’ll come? For a drink, I mean.” I shook my head. It would be a miracle if she actually agreed now.

  “Why don’t I meet you at Independence Pub at eight? Give me some time to put this stuff away and get changed out of these scruffy scrubs.”

  “I don’t think your scrubs are scruffy. You looked beautiful.” My heart stopped dead in my chest. I didn’t mean to say that. The words had fallen out of my mouth before I could think them through. They were a step too far, a tilt in the wrong direction. To tilt it back, I said, “As always. Eight sounds great. I’ll see you then.”

  “Great. See you shortly.”

  I put the car in drive and went to Mom’s house, the black sedan following me that had been my shadow since I got home. Bodyguards. I’d insisted they blend into the scenery while I was home and was glad for it. I didn’t want anyone to see me sweat the way I had been on that phone call. Her uncertainty killed me, but it was my own fault, and I’d brought it on with my big mouth. Why would I even say something about getting on my knees like that, bringing up what we’d used to do in lieu of sex—which was take turns getting on our knees.

  Fuck.

  I sucked in a deep breath, shaking out the tension in my shoulders, which needed to go if I stood even the smallest chance of acting normal tonight. I told myself that a drink in a bar was going to be far more relaxed than seeing one another in the hospital halls.

  Even if I wanted something to happen with Kelly, there was far too much still-roiling water under the bridge. And Gaged was my life. Unfortunately, New Hope and Kelly Cavendish didn’t feature in the workings.

  I barely had the key in the front door lock before Mom’s neighbor popped around the bushes.

  “Well, if that isn’t Gage Strickland, as I live and breathe.” The man’s hair had turned nearly white in the past seven years, but he still wore the same Chinos. “It’s been a very long time since I’ve seen you around here.”

  “Hello, Mr. Harper. Yes, it has been a while. How are you?”

  “My wife said she thought she saw you coming in late last night, but I told her that was impossible. She’ll be so pleased to see you. Let me just get her.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Harper, I’m really on my way out again and—”

  “Mariam!” he called. “Guess who’s here? You were right.”

  The woman who’d pampered me with extra cookies and a special bag of candy just for me on Halloween every year grinned at the sight of me with the same indulgent look she’d give me back then. As if she still saw me as a naïve eight-year-old boy.

  “Oh, Gage, it’s good to see you. How’s your mom today?”

  “She’s sleeping now. It’s been a rough day.”

  “Oh no.” Mrs. Harper clutched her hands to her chest. The sympathetic look she gave me was too much, I had to drag my eyes away so I didn’t drown under the weight of it. “That’s awful, I’m so sorry. I’ll be sure to visit her. I’ll bake her some of her favorite lemon poppy muffins like I did last time. Sometimes they’re all she can eat when…”

  My breath was suddenly gone. Mrs. Harper had even known. Had the whole town known?

  I resisted the urge to scream at her for not immediately calling me so I could’ve done something sooner, but it wasn’t her responsibility to do so. “When she’s sick from the cancer drugs?” I didn’t think I would ever get used to that word. Cancer.

  She blinked at me sheepishly. “I’m sorry. I told her to tell you, but she insisted on not worrying you. She always holds herself together so well, even did when you left at such a young age. I suppose she’s lucky that she gets to catch a glimpse of what you’re doing since you’re appearing on one TV show or another all the time.”

  “I suppose so.” The woman was piling more guilt on my head with every word, and I was almost sure she wasn’t doing it on purpose.

  “She likes knowing what city you’re in and where you’re playing shows.”

  “Well, I do call her and try to keep her up to date that way.”

  “Oh, I know. You’re a good boy. We always watch you on anything we can. I’m always proud to tell people that your mother is our neighbor. People who don’t live in New Hope never believe me, but it’s the truth.”

  “Yes…ma’am.”

  Her husband had gone back to whatever he’d been doing on the other side of the bushes, and she just rambled on. “And you’re doing so well. Gaged is such a wonderful band. Maybe a bit loud for my personal taste, but I’ll always support you anyway because I’ll always see you as little Gage Strickland from next door.”

  “Thanks for your support.” The words sounded stilted and weird, and I wished I hadn’t said them, but one more second of her rattling on and I’d twist the key off in the lock. “I really do have to get going now, but I’m sure I’ll see you again.”

  She beamed at me. “You know where we are, Gage, if you need anything. I’ll do whatever I can to help you and your mom.”

  “Thank you. I’ll see you soon.” I turned the key, the door flew open, and I tumbled inside.

  Once the door slammed behind me, I was faced with a table full of framed photos, all of me from various moments of my childhood. Me with a blue ribbon I’d won in 4H, me with my friends at my first middle school dance, me sporting a graduation cap.

  Guilt flooded me until I felt like I would collapse under the weight of it. Under the pile of things I should have done back then. And didn’t.

  8

  Kelly

  Standing on the sidewalk, I stared at the two beer mugs clinking together in a cheers gesture on the sign for Independence Pub. A zigzag of nerves darted through me. I’d been inside the rustic American-themed bar before, on more than one occasion, but tonight was different in every single way.

  Tonight, I would be with Gage Strickland.

  I considered how strange it would be. I used to dream about a time when we’d be old enough to have a date at a bar. I’d assumed drinking alcohol would make us glamorous and adultlike, we’d be past the dramas of high school, fulfilling our dreams, still together, still strong.

  Now though, I felt more childish than I had when we were dating.

  Gathering my courage, I pushed open the heavy wooden door that was supposed to remind one of patriots and pioneer days.

  Once my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I caught a glimpse of myself in the bar mirror that was tilted so you could see your whole self. I immediately decided that the red floaty dress I’d agonized over was wrong. It clung to all the wrong places, showing a little bit too much cleavage, hugging my hips a little too tight. I looked like I was on that date from my fantasy, which was bad. Really bad. The dress was too much, made me look like I was a fangirl. I didn’t want Gage to think I wanted to impress him. I did, I just didn’t need him to know that.

  What if he thought I assumed we were out in a romantic sense and it got super awkward? This was the exact reason I should’ve gone with my initial instinct. Which had been to say no.

  Actually, when Gage asked me, my immediate reaction had been to accept, to allow myself to slip into being in his company, slip back into the ease we’d had before. And that would be bad because everything had changed since he left. But I’d caved. I couldn’t seem to resist Gage, even after all this time. He needed me, and here I was, falling at his knees like some overwrought groupie.

  Knees. God, that might have had something to do with why I was here. But I couldn’t let anything happen with him in that sense. I’d spent so much time getting over him, I couldn’t allow myself to backtrack now.

  Leaving would be the better option. I could run for the hills and explain to him later that it just wasn’t a good idea. But my legs wouldn’t move. I couldn’t abandon him. I wanted to be in his company.

  “Hey there.” Gage’s happy tone grabbed me, and I spun around, my eyes landing on a slice of bare chiseled chest peeking out where he’d left the buttons undone. “I’m glad you’re here, I was starting to think you wouldn’t show.”

  “To be honest, I thought about it. I’m not sure this is a good idea. But I wouldn’t do that to you.” There was a tinge of resentment in my tone that I couldn’t disguise.

  “I was there.”

  I squinted at him, unsure of what he meant. “What?”

  “At their funeral.”

  Anger clamped down on every muscle in my body, and I tried to keep from shaking. That was a lie. He hadn’t been, hadn’t showed. And I’d needed him so very much, even when I told him not to come. I’d never let myself need another person since.

  “I walked in and there you were, an angel dressed in black standing there by your mom, in front of them, like you were guarding your dad and brother. Greeting people like you had it all together.” His eyes bored into mine until I was sure of his earnestness.

  “I never saw you.”

  “I didn’t want to upset you again, like you’d been that last night. And I couldn’t face it the way you had been able to do. They weren’t mine, but they were the only father and brother I’d ever had.” He placed his hand on my shoulder, the heat seeping through the thin material of the overdone dress, turning me toward a table. “Until the band, that is.”

  Thankful to change the subject, I sat in the chair he pulled out and asked, “You’re close with your band?”

  “It’s hard not to be living on a tour bus.” He smiled, and something in my chest broke loose, some part of me I wanted to hold on to because it protected me from wanting to be in his arms.

  “Oh. I bet you’re never by yourself.”

  “On the road, I’m never alone. If I’m not with the band members and the crew, there’s the fans, all the time. I’m thankful, truly, and I love the fans, but sometimes it’s a chore. It’s nice to be solo.”

  The mention of fans reminded me of a more innocent time when we’d been mutually daydreaming about what could have been, and I’d assured him I wouldn’t get jealous of a constant stream of female attention should he ever hit it big. Now, I couldn’t even call him my own, and a feeling that was way too close to jealousy twisted in my gut.

  “Well, you aren’t in New York now. You have friends here, not just fans.” What was wrong with me? Why had I said that? Was I offering to be his friend? Because that probably wasn’t a good idea either.

  “Hmm, I can’t have too many of them.” His eyes fell on my lips, and his forehead turned down in a frown, but only for a second. “Hey, there’s a live band tonight. They should be setting up soon. I’ve heard some of their stuff and wanted to hear them in person. Thinking about giving them a boost.”

  “You can do that? Help out a band?”

  “I can recommend them to my label, give them a good word.”

  “Oh yeah? That’s really nice.” Nice?

  He grinned. “I have ulterior motives, I’ll admit. I wouldn’t mind touring with a group from my hometown.”

  “Really.”

  “You sound shocked.”

  I shook my head. “I guess I thought you wanted as little to do with New Hope as possible.” He opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. The silence stretched on for a minute. “If you’re lucky, the band might recognize you and ask you to sing with them,” I said to fill the awkwardness.

  His eyebrows shot up. “No way my first show for you is going to be here. I can set that up, for you to see the band play.”

  The offer struck me like a punch. I hadn’t ever seen him play live on a big stage, or with his present band. For someone who used to be my entire world, that wasn’t right, even if we were no longer together romantically. I should’ve gone to a concert of his at least, just to support him. He was once very important to me. I didn’t even know how I’d allowed myself to totally push that down into oblivion when five minutes sitting across from him brought it back in full bloom.

  I forced my lips to curl into a smile, relaxing into his company. “I’m sorry that I’ve never come. I should have.”

  His eyes searched mine, and he said in a low voice, “It’s okay. I’m sorry too, that I didn’t come stand by you that day. I should have. Instead, I sat in the back, played it lowkey. What an ass I was.”

  “Yeah, the worst.” It was a game we used to play, calling each other the exact opposite of what we meant. We’d never said the L word, it had seemed too serious, too grown up.

  “I still hate you,” he said.

  My heart pulsed, the opposite words making my eyes fill. His dazzling grin struck a chord deep inside, rendering me speechless for a couple of seconds. I remained silent, staring up at him, probably the way his adoring fans did. I used to spend every moment of my life with this man, knew him like I knew myself. He was telling me he was still in love with me. A bubbly, fizzy feeling traveled all the way from my chest to my toes.

  I have no chance of surviving this.

  Before I could think of a response other than I hate you too, Gage lit the candle that was on our table and announced he was going to get us drinks. The scent of warm all-American cherry pie burned my nostrils, a welcoming smell that I inhaled deeply.

  The table sat near the window, the glow of the sunset streaming in, but instead of admiring the outside view, I watched him. Gage leaned over the bar, immediately grabbing the attention of the woman working. He’d always possessed an intense charisma. Even back in high school, it had seemed a no-brainer that he could one day be super famous, he just had that it factor, the thing that drew people to him. He filled a room just by standing in it, never needing to try to create a buzz.

  That buzz consumed me too. It ran deep, shooting through my veins and straight to my panties. I crossed my legs to tame my pulsing desire for him.

  It didn’t work.

  I’d experienced it at the hospital, but now, in this more relaxed environment, I couldn’t stop the cravings from racing free.