A Lush Rhapsody: A Rhapsody Novel (28 page)

T
ully listens
. I pour my heart and soul out to her, everything that’s gone on since I left home at seventeen, the way I’ve viewed the world, the twisted thought process that led up to doing what I did. I tell her every bit of it and when I’m done I feel like the weight of a thousand worlds has been lifted off of my chest. I had no idea how badly I needed her to hear all of this. How much I craved the sight of her beautiful face. I feel like the sun has come out fully for the first time since I entered rehab. Tully is my sunshine, she always will be.

When I finally wind down I sit back and try to smile. “I know none of this excuses what I did, short stack. I only wanted you to understand how it happened. Only you can decide if you want to forgive me or not, but you need to know that I feel just as much for you as I did that night of your welcome home party in Portland.” I reach across the table and touch her arm. She doesn’t pull away so I take that as a good sign and push on, because though I’ve been to rehab, and I know my priorities and methods have to change, I’m still me, and I can’t see something I want so despearately and not try to go after it. “I’d do anything to see you again when I’m done here. I know we can’t pick up where we left off, but if you could see any way for us to spend some time together, it would mean everything to me.”

I watch a million different emotions flit across her beautiful blue eyes in the span of a few seconds. She shifts in her seat uncomfortably and my heart pounds with the fear that I’ve pushed too hard.

“We convinced my mom that Joss and Tammy didn’t sleep together,” she says out of the blue. “She liked them so much she thinks the papers are being ‘horrible’.” She shakes her head and I sit back, relaxing a bit, waiting for her next revelation.

“My brother, Keith, punched a guy for saying shit about me at one of the job sites—” My stomach flips. “And my dad is so impressed with everything I told him about Lush’s foundation that he wants to start a smaller version with his construction company, and he wants me to help him set it up.”

I grin as she keeps going, and the sweet pitch of her voice, the cadence of her speech, the things she tells me about her family and Lush, all of it tells me that she’s going to be okay. I didn’t ruin her, I didn’t destroy her life, and I’m so thankful I nearly break down right there.

“I’m happy for you, short stack,” I tell her when she pauses to get a soda from the mini-fridge in the room. My voice is so rough I’m surprised I can get any words out at all. The lump in my throat sticks like peanut butter, and my eyes burn. Trent might say that’s nothing to be ashamed of, but I can’t break down in front of her. That has to wait until later.

“I’m glad everything is going well. I don’t think I could ever forgive myself if I’d ruined it all for you.”

“Thank you,” she answers., obviously uncomfortable with the emotion leaking from me. She checks her phone and my heart sinks. She’s about to leave and it’s going to kill me. “I should probably get going.”

“Okay.” I try to smile even though my chest is cracking in two. We both stand and move awkwardly toward the door. When we get there I reach around her and put my hand on the lever. I’m so close I could lean another inch and touch her. As it is I can smell her hair and feel the heat coming off of her soft skin.

“Is there any chance you might come see me again?” I ask with my voice still rough and needy.

She doesn’t move a muscle, her body trapped between me and the door. I hear her breath hitch before she answers. “Maybe text some?”

I’ll take it. “I’d love that.”

She nods and I twist the handle, opening the door where she steps through, turns to look at me for a moment. My heart flies out of my body and lands in her hands. That’s it, I’m done. I know it, and by the way she’s looking at me I think she knows it too.

“I have one more question,” she says.

“Of course, anything.”

“The concert in Seattle all those years ago—when Lush said you busted up Mike’s guitars. Did you do it?”

I breathe deep, realizing that there are a hell of a lot of things in my past that are going to be cropping up to bite me in the ass. I can see why they teach you to tell the truth in rehab. The lies can get pretty damn confusing.

“Yes, and no.” I run a hand through my hair as she looks at me expectantly. Damn. This is the hard shit. “I was walking down the hallway backstage that day hours before the show started. Most of the bands had gone to get something to eat. I was hanging around waiting for a delivery from my dealer.” I feel my face color with shame, but Tully’s gaze is steady. She’s braver and stronger than I’ve ever been.

“I saw someone go into Lush’s dressing room, and I heard the noise when he started slamming shit around. My first inclination was to barrel in and see what the hell he was doing, but something made me stop outside the door, and when I looked in I saw a roadie from one of the other bands using a sledgehammer liberally on Mike’s equipment.”

Her eyes widen and her mouth makes a small O of surprise.

“I could have stopped him, Tully. I could have called security, the police, anyone. I could have taken him, he was smaller than me.” I pause, remembering the way my mind worked that day, the way it saw an advantage and leapt at the chance to take it.

“But I didn’t. What I did was think that Mike deserved it, that Lush deserved it, and that if they couldn’t play, it would only make Rhapsody more popular at the event.”

She nods now, her face grim, like my heart.

“I didn’t destroy those guitars, but I may as well have.”

Her eyes are sad as she watches me. I feel defeated now. As if all the hope I clutched to my chest for the last forty-five minutes has dissipated into thin air.

“Thank you for being honest,” she says.

“Thank you for being the person I want to be honest for,” I answer.

“Goodbye guitar hero.”

She gives me a little wave and I watch as she walks away down the hall. I vow that I won’t be letting her walk away from me again. This is the last time.

* * *

B
laze
: The food here is good, but tonight we had pasta primavera for dinner and all I could think about was Garrett that night we ate out in Sacramento.

Tully: LOL Does he always get that upset over seeing meat in his food? I get being a vegetarian, but crying over the meat?

Blaze: But he’s not a vegetarian. He’d just seen a meme with a baby pig that day. And he was drunk. He’s always been a sloppy drunk.

Tully: I want a baby pig.

Blaze: I’ll buy you one when I’m out of rehab.

* * *

T
ully
: Have you ever been interviewed by Natalie Acorn? I have one with her today.

Blaze: From Boom?

Tully: Yeah.

Blaze: She shows a lot of cleavage.

Blaze: Well, maybe not with you.

Tully: Rolling eyes.

Blaze: Sorry…not.

Tully: I’ll give her your number.

Blaze: Please don’t.

…

Blaze: Tully?

…

Blaze: Tully, seriously, she’s kind of scary.

…

Blaze: Tully?

* * *

B
laze
: Knock knock.

Tully: Uh…who’s there?

Blaze: A door

Tully: A door who?

Blaze: A door you.

Tully: That’s not really the joke is it?

Blaze: No, but it’s true.

Tully: Knock knock.

Blaze: Who’s there?

Tully: Justin.

Blaze: Justin who?

Tully: Justin time.

* * *

T
wo months
to the day after I checked in I’m released from rehab. I take a cab straight to Tully’s apartment.

T
here are
a lot of quotes about forgiveness. Most of us probably know “To forgive is divine.” But there’s also stuff like, “Forgiveness does not change the past, but it does enlarge the future,” or “Forgiveness is a gift to yourself.” And forgiveness is something on my mind a lot as I text with Blaze week after week while he’s in rehab.

I talk about forgiveness with my sister, I talk about it with my mom. I talk about it with Mike and Walsh. Walsh is all for it, Mike is for it when it’s Jenny forgiving him, but not so much when it’s me forgiving Blaze.

And finally I talk about it with the whole band. Because if I’m going to forgive Blaze all the way, I need to know that they’re okay with that. I need to know that I’m not hurting them by letting him back into my life.

“I’m not sure I’m ever going to be able to be friendly with the guy again, Tully,” Joss tells me as we sit around after rehearsal one afternoon. “But I’m also not going to pretend that I know what goes on between you and him. I’ve been married long enough to realize that all relationships are unique. If he’s the guy for you then you do what you have to do. I’m not going to stand in your way.”

Mike tips a beer at Joss and says, “Here, here.” He takes a swig, then looks at me. “But if he fucks you over I’ll rip his arms out of the sockets and he’ll never play guitar again.”

I cringe and Colin rolls his eyes and mouths “bullshit” at me. I try not to giggle.

“You know how I feel,” Walsh says. “My life is a testament to second chances both given and received.” He winks at me, and I smile.

“So, no one has the answer for me, huh?” I complain.

“Nope,” Colin chimes in. “Only you can decide what to do. That’s part of the whole package.”

“What whole package?”

“The falling in love package.”

* * *

A
ll the way
home I agonize over it. Should I forgive him? Do I still love him? Is there any way we can have a future? It gives me a headache and I’m in an exceptionally bad mood by the time I reach the bar and tromp up the back staircase to my apartment.

“Hi,” Blaze says, as he stands from where he was sitting against my door.

I look at him, a rush of emotions pouring through me. The space is small and he’s big, and my heart is boom booming so loudly I’d be surprised if he can’t hear it.

“Hi. Um, you got out?”
Obviously, Tully, you idiot.
I feel my cheeks heat up.

He smiles at me indulgently. “Yeah. I’ve got a completion certificate and everything. That, plus a sponsor and a list of NA meetings for the next thirty days.”

“Good. That’s um, great.” I’m so nervous I’m shaking.

“Can we uh…” He points to the door. Shit.

“Of course! I’m sorry.” I move to the door but he only barely steps out of the way and he’s so close I can hear his breath, feel his heat, smell his skin. It makes it hard for me to get the key in the lock, but I finally do. As we move inside I think I hear him mutter, “Fuck” under his breath. My sentiments exactly.

Once we’re inside I set my purse down and turn to look at him. He’s come up right behind me, though, so when I turn he’s in my space and I jump, startled.

He just steps closer.

“Tully.” His voice is rough, low, and so sexy I’m not sure but I think I might have just orgasmed a little.

“Yeah?” I ask, heart beating like a tiny hummingbird’s.

“I’ve tried to be patient, but I’m losing my mind here. All I’ve been able to think about these last few weeks is seeing you again. Being able to talk to you kept me sane, it kept me focused on the goal of getting well, and getting out. But now…”

“Now?” I ask gently.

“Now I have to know—is there any chance for us? Is there any hope for this?”

Part of me wants to throw myself into his arms and devour him. Another part wants to run out of the room screaming. Because I don’t think I can take another betrayal from him. I’m strong, but I’m not invincible. And since I’ve never been anything but honest with him before today, I don’t see any reason to break that pattern now.

“I’m scared, Blaze. I don’t think I can live through it again. If you do that to me again I won’t make it.”

He cups my cheek with his big palm. “I know, baby. I’m so sorry.”

“I know you are. And I forgive you.” He tenses. “But I’m not sure that means I can try this with you again.”

He puts a hand on my hip, tentatively, his fingers exerting only the tiniest pressure, but even that burns my skin as if there were hot embers pressing into me.

“Listen to me, short stack. You’re in charge. Completely. You make all the decisions. You set the pace. You make the rules. I won’t do anything, won’t push for a single thing that you’re not ready for. I don’t care if all we do is sit and watch TV once a week for the next year as long as I get to see you somehow. I can wait as long as it takes. You need to trust me, and I’ll
earn
that trust.”

I gaze up at him, and his blue, blue eyes. This close up I can see the tiny bits of green that surround his pupils.

“What about the fact that you live in L.A. and I live here?”

“I have a house in L.A. I live wherever my heart is, and you’ve got that in your tiny fist, baby. I’m here as long as you want me to be.”

“But the band…”

“We’ll all commute. We’ve already talked about it. The guys are fine with it. Dez is going to room with me for a while here. We’ve already decided to cut half of our next CD here and the other half in L.A. That’s if you’ll be okay with me staying, of course.”

My heart is full, feeling like it might overflow, but my head is still cautious, and I know that this won’t be okay overnight. It’s going to take some time.

“Yes. I’m okay with you staying.”

He lifts me and swings me around as he laughs. When he finally sets me down he looks at me with so much emotion I feel like I’ve been stripped naked and had my heart torn clean from my chest. It beats in the palm of his hand, and he squeezes it ever so gently, letting me know that he’s holding it. I hope his grip is firm, but careful too.

“You don’t know how happy you’ve made me,” he breathes.

“It has to be slow, Blaze. I’m scared.”

“Okay,” he whispers before he kisses me softly on the lips. “I can do slow.”

* * *

F
or five weeks
Blaze is my shadow. He comes to the bar every day and sits while I work or we just hang out. He walks me upstairs in the evenings and gives me sweet kisses goodnight. A lot of mornings I find baked goods and coffee waiting for me outside the door when I get up. There are notes taped to my windshield that tell me things like, “Make sure to take an umbrella with you, it’s going to rain” or “the sticker on your windshield says you need an oil change, I can take it for you today while you’re at rehearsal.” He’s slowly enchanting me, and Savvy went over to the dark side weeks ago.

“Oh my God,” she announces as she walks into the bar from the kitchen. “Look at what he left for you today.” She’s holding a big bouquet of tulips—red, purple, orange, yellow—they’re a riot of colors. “No one’s given me flowers in…hmm. So long I can’t even recall.”

“Just remember, babe, he’s got a lot more money than I do,” Kevin cautions. He’s been grousing about the high bar that Blaze is setting. I laugh at him every time he starts in on how badly Blaze is violating the bro code.

Savvy smacks Kevin on the chest and fluffs the flowers in their vase before handing them to me. “The stuff he does isn’t expensive, that’s part of what makes it so beautiful. He could be buying her all kinds of jewelry and new cars, but he doesn’t. He gets her flowers, and croissants, and leaves her sweet notes. He’s got game, honey.” She smiles sweetly at him and he scowls.

“Stop torturing your husband,” I say as I laugh. “Kevin’s got game too, it’s just a little rusty. Plus, Kevin didn’t do something really awful he has to make up for.” Kevin points at me then at Savvy, triumph on his face.

Savvy’s lips flatten and her brow wrinkles. “True.”

“And speak of the devil,” Kevin says as he looks over my head out the front windows of the bar.

Blaze saunters in, his gaze burning right through me. He notices the tulips on the bar and his lips curl up into a wicked smile.

“You got them,” he says, stepping up to me so close that I have to tip my head back to look at him.

“I did. They instigated an argument between my sister and her husband.”

Blaze scowls at me, then looks at Savvy and Kevin with concern. Kevin laughs. “It’s all good, man.” He gives Blaze one of those handclasp things that guys do. “Savvy was just busting my balls because I haven’t romanced her enough lately.” He gives my sister a look that’s so searing I’m surprised the bar doesn’t start smoking. “I’ll have to remedy that tonight,” he adds.

Blaze cracks up and I feel my cheeks heat. The very last thing I need to picture is my sister and her husband getting it on. “Take me away from these two,” I tell Blaze. “Before I vomit.”

Kevin’s laughter follows us as I grab my flowers and lead us to the back and up the stairs to my apartment.

Blaze and I have hung out in the bar, but we haven’t spent time alone in my place, and whether it’s the tulips, watching Savvy and Kevin who are so sweet and in love even after all these years, or maybe some level of comfort that I’ve finally reached, today I invite him in. “You want to help me find a place for these?” I ask as I open the door.

“Absolutely,” he answers.

Inside I look around at the possible places to set my pretty bouquet. The kitchen counter, the little dining table, the coffee table. “What do you think?” I ask turning in a slow circle as I scan the room.

“I think you’re the most beautiful thing in this room,” he says, his voice directly behind me. I spin and find myself toe to toe with Blaze Davis—Viking, football star, guitar hero, drug addict, destroyer of reputations, romantic suitor. A complex guy. But then, when have I ever wanted simple? Someone who wanted simple would have married her high school sweetheart and lived down the street from her parents. Simple would have gone to St. Anne’s every Sunday like my parents do and cooked a roast and potatoes every night to feed her six kids. My mother had simple. My sister has simple. And simple is pretty, but complex is beautiful.

“You make me feel that way,” I tell him as I tentatively place a hand on his chest. “You make me feel alive, and you make me feel cared for.”

His head drops almost to my shoulder, and he whispers his lips across the skin left bare by my spaghetti strapped sundress. “You are cared for, Tully. And I’d love nothing more than to keep caring for you for another fifty or sixty years.”

“What if I plan to live to a hundred?”

“Then try to stop me from living to a hundred and three,” he answers, his lips finding my jaw and skating across the sensitive skin there.

“Are we really going to do this?” I ask.

He lifts his head and looks at me, his eyes soft and warm. “I’ve got news for you. We have been doing this. For a while now.”

I sigh and lean into him more, because I know he’s right. Aside from those first few weeks he was in rehab, we’ve been doing this since the tour started. And even when he was in rehab, he never left my thoughts, it never felt like he had left my life.

“I know,” I tell him. “You’ve been part of me since the first moment I laid eyes on you.”

“God, Tully,” he whispers as he kisses my lips. “I can’t put it into words—what you mean to me, how you make me feel—it’s like I lived my whole life with this tiny heart and then I walked into a room and saw you and it expanded, but it happened so fast that it hurt at first and I didn’t know how to cope with that.”

“Growing pains,” I murmur as I run my hands along his broad shoulders and up into his silky hair. “Your heart had growing pains.”

He kisses along one side of my neck before his hand drifts down to stroke my breast. “Yes, like that. And I didn’t know how to use my new bigger heart. Like in football when you’re a kid and you realize one day that you’re gripping the ball all wrong because your hands have grown and it finally fits.” He holds me away from him a touch so he can look me in the eyes. “My heart finally fits me. I’m so sorry it took me a while to adjust my grip.”