A Song for Us (2 page)

“Wanna talk about it?”

She drank the shot, a trail of whiskey running over her chin and down her throat. I grabbed a paper towel and wiped it off for her, careful not to mess up her makeup.

“Just brings back bad memories.”

I nodded, completely understanding. Even as Donna and I had grown closer over the past few weeks, I knew there were things she wouldn’t tell even me. But I guess that was only fair, given how much I kept to myself, too.

“That’s life,” I said as I poured myself another drink. “A series of struggles strung together with the occasional moment of joy that makes it worth going another day.” I turned around. Drink in hand as I looked over at Tucker. He was nervous but smiling in his charcoal-gray suit. Chris and Terry laughing and helping him shake his nerves.

“You think he is happy?” she asked as she leaned back against the counter, her body brushing against mine.

I cleared my throat and moved over a fraction of an inch. “Of course he is. Look at him. He’s in love.” I smiled, genuinely happy for my best friend.

“The deeper your love, the harder you fall when it goes bad.”

I grinned, glancing over at Donna’s profile; for twenty-seven she could really be intense. “Careful . . . you’re dangerously close to opening up to someone.”

She laughed sardonically and shook her head as she looked down at her shoes. “I won’t make that mistake twice.” She gave me a sideways glance, and the corner of her lips curled up in a small smile.

I didn’t want to push her to say anything more, so I just offered a halfhearted smile in return. “I’ll drink to that.” I poured the amber liquid down my throat and tossed my glass in the sink behind us.

Donna grabbed the light blue tie from the counter and wrapped it around my neck. She was standing so close I could feel the heat radiating from her and the faint smell of her minty, alcohol-laced breath.

“You’ll drink to anything.” Her eyes narrowed as she worked quickly to secure the tie and fold my shirt collar down over it, her fingers lingering on my shoulders. My body moved on its own as I leaned forward a fraction of an inch, as if a magnet were pulling me toward her, or maybe I had drunk a few too many shots. I was thankful when Cass returned, her hair swept back at her nape. She was still wearing an old T-shirt and shorts.

“How you feeling?” she asked as her eyes danced between Donna and me.

Donna took a step back, looking embarrassed. “I’m going to freshen up.” She left us and Cass smiled widely. We watched Donna walk away.

“She really has a thing for you.”

“Nah. She just wants a distraction.”

“You could both use one.”

“Cass, you know I can’t do that. There isn’t anything there. The last thing I want to do is mess things up for the band over some chick.”

Cass raised an eyebrow and I realized that probably sounded like an insult to her.

“You know I didn’t mean you. You’re like family to all of us.”

“I wasn’t always. I remember what it felt like to be an outsider in this group. Maybe Donna just needs to find her place.”

“Donna is one of us, she just doesn’t realize it.”

Cass sighed loudly as she looked around the room. Her face looked sullen as her eyes glassed over.

“What is it?” I reached out and took her hand. She glanced down at the ring on her finger and shook her head, fighting back the tears.

“My dad.”

“Hey . . .” I pulled her against me and wrapped my arms around her neck, giving her a nice firm hug. “We talked about this. You don’t need him. I’m going to walk you down the aisle with the twins. You have all the family you need.”

“I know.”

I pulled back from her and ran my thumbs carefully under her eyes to catch the tears that began to spill over. She jerked back and made a gagging sound.

“Jesus, E! You smell like a bum! How much have you had?”

“Not nearly enough.”

She smiled. “I could use a little relaxing myself. I can’t stop shaking.”

“You scared?”

“No, I’m not scared. I’m happy. I can’t believe it is finally happening. It’s overwhelming.”

“What are you women talking ’bout?” Terry asked as he made his way into the cramped kitchen space and threw his arm over my shoulder. I pushed it off and took a step away from him.

“Just because I am sensitive to the ladies doesn’t make me a chick.”

“Doesn’t make you much of a man either.” Terry laughed.

“How much have you drunk, Terry?” Cass asked. He just laughed, his eyes glazed over and bloodshot.

“What does make you a man, O wise one?” I asked as Chris made his way to us.

“This,” Terry shot back as he grabbed his crotch.

“A small package?” I joked, and glanced over at Chris.

“Let it be known we are fraternal, not identical,” Chris replied as he winked at Cass, who let out a giggle.

“Thanks for the backup, Brother.” Terry ran his hand through his hair and cracked his neck. Chris just shrugged and took a swig of his bottle of beer.

“Beatfest is in a few days,” Chris said to no one in particular.

“Great. I wonder which one of you will get in a fight first at the festival.” Cass rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“They all promised to behave,” Tucker spoke up in our defense.
“They know how hard it was to convince you to stay here longer just for a concert.”

“You still owe me one,” she replied with an eyebrow raised.

“Oh, I will give you one tonight.” He winked at her.

Chris made a heaving sound. “Seriously. That is gross. Cass is like a little sister to the rest of us.”

“This is fun, guys, but you all need to get out so I can put on my dress. It’s bad luck for Tucker to see me in it before the wedding.”

“Fine, but I’m taking my whiskey with me,” I smirked as I grabbed the bottle and headed for the hotel door.

The rest of the band followed, but Donna stayed behind to help Cass get ready. They didn’t always see eye to eye, but Cass was lucky to have another female around for times like this.

The band all filed into the elevator and waited for it to make it to the expansive lobby. The doors popped open and a blinding flash caught us all off guard.

“Don’t you have a fucking life?” I put my hand out to block the photographer’s lens as Tucker and the guys hustled by to get to the waiting car outside.

Ever since we had performed at the MTV Music Video Awards about four months ago, we’d begun attracting more attention, especially from the paps. Most days we could go about our daily business freely and without interruption, but ever since word got out that Tucker had proposed, paparazzi had been counting down the days until he tied the knot, stalking us with obnoxious persistence.

Tucker has been pretty laid-back about it, but I couldn’t keep my cool as easily.

“Don’t touch my camera, man. I’ll call the cops!”

“You’re stalking us and you’re gonna call the cops on
me
? Bitch move, man.” I hurried after the guys and slid into the back of the murdered-out Escalade. The windows were tinted so black that even with the camera flash they couldn’t get a decent shot of us. I flipped off the photog from behind my window as we pulled out into the street and headed toward the chapel.

“Thanks, man.” Tucker nodded in my direction.

I smiled as I relaxed against the seat and stretched out my legs. “Not a problem.”

“You should have let us throw you a bachelor party. It’s bad luck not to see some tatas before your big day,” Chris called out, causing the driver to glance in his rearview mirror at us.

“I don’t want to go see some washed-up old lady swing around on a pole. I have the chick I want.”

“Very noble of you, man, but I’d like to see some old naked chicks swing on a pole. Think of your friends, dude,” Terry joked, and we all laughed.

“I told you we can do it in a few days . . . as long as Cass can come along.”

“Why would you want to subject yourself to that?” Terry asked.

“She’s going to be my wife.”

“Could you imagine Donna in a strip club?” I laughed and shook my head as I tried to picture her uptight ass sitting in front of the
stage. Even the more loosened-up version of Donna that seemed to be sticking around these days didn’t fit in with that scene.

“It looks like you are imagining it, pervert.” Chris laughed and hit me on the arm.

“Fuck off, man. It’s not like that.”

The car slowed to a stop when we reached the church, and Tucker took a deep breath as we all stared at him.

A large smile spread across his face. “I’m not gonna change my mind, guys. Let’s do this.”

The driver pulled open the door and we all exited. He had parked out back, and thankfully no assholes with cameras were there to greet us. Given how stressed out I was this morning, this was a good thing. I didn’t need to be arrested for assault and miss the wedding of my best friend.

We filed inside the small, dimly lit building. It looked more like a post office than a church. I was shocked it didn’t burst into flames as I entered. The priest greeted us as we walked in. He pulled Tucker to the side so they could speak privately and pointed to a room off to the left that we could wait in. We had ordered snacks and beverages to be ready for us while we waited, and they were lined up on a small card table against the wall. I still had my bottle of Jack, which I held down at my side so the preacher couldn’t see it. I knew it was sometimes part of religious ritual to drink wine in church, but I wasn’t sure how they felt about something a little harder.

The holding room had a few foldout chairs and old paintings of Jesus on the cross. I wasn’t a religious person, but I could certainly
understand why so many people are. Knowing someone else was looking out for you and would have your back was comforting. But that didn’t work for me. My thoughts always drifted to my little brother, and as hard as I tried, I couldn’t understand where God was on the day he had died.

I unscrewed the lid to my bottle and took a healthy sip. The liquid no longer burned. My body was growing numb to its effects.

Terry walked up beside me, his hands folded over his chest as he nodded his chin toward the old oil painting. “Whatchya thinking about?” he asked, his eyes dipping down to the bottle in my hand before he looked back to the picture.

“Life . . . death . . . shit.” My words were beginning to slur and I knew it was time to cut myself off. I didn’t want to forget this day with Cass and Tucker.

“That’s deep, man.” Terry reached down and took the bottle from me with a grin on his face. “I think we should slow down a bit.”

After a long pause he rubbed his hand hard over his freshly shaved chin as if deep in thought. “You ever wonder what Donna looks like naked?”

I shook my head and walked away, mumbling expletives under my breath. The guys were constantly ragging on me about Donna ever since they’d plotted to set us up a few months ago. They thought a game of pool and a few drinks would make me forget that Sarah was right next to me, and that she was back with that scumbag Derek, a jerk that didn’t even come close to deserving a woman like her. I was thankful they did though, because that had been the turning point for
me and Donna—when she’d started loosening up and opening up with me a little. I grabbed a bag of pretzels from Chris and shoved my hand in to grab a few. He yanked the bag back out of my hand with a laugh.

The door swung open and Tucker stepped inside, glancing behind him before letting the door close.

“You look like you saw a ghost,” I joked as I shoved a pretzel in my mouth.

“I sort of did.” He ran his hand over his hair, causing it to stick up haphazardly.

“You didn’t see Cass in her dress, did you? That chick will flip the fuck out if you pull some bad-luck shit like that.”

“No, not Cass. You know she invited some old friends to come. She didn’t mention it because she didn’t think they would be able to make it with their crazy schedule.”

I pushed him aside as I pulled open the door and glanced out of the crack to the pews. My heart stopped as my eyes landed on Sarah. She was wearing a baby-blue dress to match the color scheme of the wedding. I rarely ever saw her in anything besides black, and it took my breath away. She looked beautiful, a softer side of her—one that people rarely got to see—shining through. I almost didn’t see Derek at her side, his hand on her lower back, dangerously close to grabbing her ass.
Dick
.

Tucker pulled me back and the door shut again in front of my eyes. I squeezed them closed, wishing I hadn’t drunk so many shots.

“It’s fine,” I lied with a smile as I threw my hands in the air. “So I
thought she was cute. No big deal. You could have told me she was coming.”

Chris shook his head and glanced over at Terry.

“For fuck’s sake, guys. I’m not a lovesick puppy. I could give a fuck about Sarah and her shitty boyfriend. We’re just friends.
Were
friends. Whatever, it was never anything more than that.”

“All right, man.” Tucker shrugged and forced a smile. “I’m glad to hear it.”

I clenched my jaw and closed my eyes, taking in a deep, calming breath. I wasn’t going to let some chick fuck with my head. Not today. Cass and Tucker didn’t need my pointless drama. Sarah was smiling and didn’t seem the least bit fazed by the contact between her and Derek. She was . . . happy. I was going to do my best to pretend I was happy, too.

“I need some air.” I pushed out of the door before anyone could stop me. I knew they thought I was going to make a scene, but I didn’t care. I felt as if the walls were closing in on me, and that picture of Jesus staring at me was beginning to creep me out. It felt as if he were silently judging me as he hung on that wall . . . on that cross.

I didn’t glance Sarah and Derek’s way as I stepped out of the front doors of the church and pulled my cigarettes and lighter from my pocket. I didn’t realize my mistake before it was too late. I should have gone out the back. Instead, I was face-to-face with the same asshole photographer from the hotel lobby. He grinned as he raised his camera to his face and snapped a pic.

I lit my cigarette, desperately trying to bite my tongue. The door
opened behind me and Sarah stepped out next to me. The tightening in my chest was painful, and trying to convince myself, once again, that she was just a friend—if that anymore—was nearly impossible. I wanted to reach out and touch her smooth skin, wrap my arms around her, and bury my face in her hair, but she had stopped returning my texts or calls months ago without ever explaining why—though I could venture that it had something to do with Derek.