InHap*pily Ever After (Incidental Happenstance) (33 page)

            “Thank you!”
Benji addressed the crowd. “I’ve got some special guests playing with me
tonight—can you give a warm welcome to Kyle Warrup on bass guitar!” He waited a
few beats for the applause to die down. “And, someone you may have seen on
television last night—a man who has stood naked in front of Penelope Valentine
and lived to tell the tale—from Incidental Happenstance, on drums, Bo Collins!”

            Bo jumped to
the front of the stage and waved his sticks in the air, basking in the
enthusiastic welcome and the anticipation he always felt just before he hit the
stage. He poured himself into the music, crashing out beats with fervor and
pounding his frustrations into the snare.  After his final bow at the end of
their set, he wandered through the crowd buying drinks for beautiful women and
shooting whiskey with some cool guys. When the countdown to midnight started,
with his head buzzing from the bourbon and the music, he found a tantalizing
honey-colored beauty in his arms and pulled her in for a long and lingering
kiss as confetti rained down around them and Auld Lang Syne was plucked on a
blues guitar.

            “Hey Mr. Bo
Collins,” she purred into his ear. “Want to make this a real happy new year?
I’m just three floors up…want to join me for a nightcap?” She looked up him,
her espresso eyes lidded in gold and her full lips tinted glossy pink.

            There was no
question of her willingness—or perhaps intent would be a better word—and
although he wasn’t a one-night-stand kind of guy, he seriously considered her
offer. He let his eyes wander down to where her breasts were trying to push
themselves out of the…holy shit, really?...leopard print dress…
well, it is
fantastic cleavage, don’t you think?
Lexi’s voice was suddenly in his head,
and the image of her jutting out her own more modest; but definitely more
natural; breasts burned in his memory.

            It shouldn’t
have had such a profound effect on him—he thought he’d be able to shake it off
and take –what did she say her name was?—up on her obvious offer to rid him of
his recent hormonal overload, but despite the fact that she was absolutely
gorgeous and readily available, he thanked her for the offer and politely
turned her down. He left her standing on the dance floor, and went to find
Benji to say his goodbyes. He downed one more drink at the bar and caught a
taxi back to the Four Seasons anticipating another restless night full of
thoughts he had absolutely no business thinking.

            Before he
collapsed onto the bed, he fished his phone out of his pocket and listened to
the message from Dylan; “Where the hell are you mate? I’ve been trying to reach
you all day…well anyway, hope wherever you are, you’re having a Happy New Year.
Oh, and I was wondering if you’d consider being my best man—seems Tia’s willing
to put up with me for a lifetime, and I need you there when it comes time to
make it official. Don’t make any plans for Memorial Day weekend—it’ll be a
birthday you’ll never forget. Hate leaving this in a message, but I wanted you
to hear it from me, just in case. Give me a ring when you can.” 

            “Well I’ll be
goddamned,” Bo said to himself. He got up and splashed some cold water on his
face so he could jump start at least enough neurons to have an intelligent
conversation. He had no idea what time it was in Australia, and he didn’t care.
His best friend; whom Bo had believed might be a bachelor to the end; was
getting married.

            “It’s about
bloody time,” Dylan said when he picked up the call. “Happy New Year!”

            “Especially
for you, Strummer Boy. Congratulations!”

            “Hold on,”
Dylan said, “let me put you on speaker.”

            “Hey Bo!” Tia
sang. “Happy New Year!”

            “You sure you
want to put up with that Aussie pretty boy for the rest of your life?” he
joked. “He snores, as you well know, and he’s got a whole list of other nasty
habits that I’m sure he’s been hiding from you. We really need to talk.”

            Tia laughed
out loud. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I can handle him,” she said.

            “How do you
know all those so-called irritating habits aren’t just my way of making your
life more interesting, Bobo?” Dylan added.

            “Yeah,
interesting’s one word for it. I can think of a few others, but I don’t want to
offend a lady as lovely as Tia.” His voice got more serious. “You know I’m
thrilled for you right? I can’t think of two people who’ll make each other
happier. And ‘best man’ is a role I can easily fill—I’m honored to do it.”

            “Thanks, Bo. I
can’t think of a better best man for Dylan. You’ll get to stand up with Lexi,
of course, so that’ll be
interesting
as well. I can think of a few other
words too, but none of them seems big enough when it comes to the way you two
behave when you’re together. I’ve missed it though, I’ll admit. I have so many
great memories of our time in Europe. I can’t wait for us to all be together
again.”

            And just like
that, Lexi was in his head once more; dancing with him at the little pub in
Northampton, her blue eyes laughing as he spun her around the dance floor. “I
can behave when I have to,” he joked, knowing that it would be her fiancé
filling the slots on her dance card and not him. He wondered, after the way
they’d left things the other night, whether she’d even be able to stomach the
requisite best man/maid of honor dance. 

            “Really?”
Dylan asked sarcastically, “because I’ve never seen that, and I’ve known you a
long time…”

            “Maybe I’m
just trying to keep
your
life interesting.”

            “You always
do,” Dylan replied. “Listen mate, we’ve just arrived at the restaurant, so I’ll
be in touch when we’re back in country, OK? We’ll be back on Sunday.”

            “Sounds
good—congratulations again, guys,” he said sincerely. “I’m really happy for
you.”

            “Thanks, Bo.
We’re pretty damn happy too.” Dylan clicked off the line, and Bo immediately
felt the emptiness settle in. It went deeper than he cared to admit. He fell
onto the bed and threw his arm across his face. “At least someone gets to be
happy tonight,” he mumbled to himself, letting the alcohol drag him down into a
fretful rest.

            The hangover
was atrocious—he spent the day nursing it over pots of coffee and room service;
which was fine with him. The weather paralleled what he felt—gloomy skies and
strong thunderstorms that shook the walls and drove spears of lightning into
the ground. Hardly conducive to a five-hour road trip on his Harley.

            The next day,
however, dawned bright and clear, and so did his head; as clear as he could
hope for, anyway. The sun dried the roads by late morning and temperatures were
expected to be in the low 70’s. Bo stuffed his duffel into the saddlebag,
pulled on his black leather jacket and helmet, and hit the road, headed for the
PCH and some wide open spaces.

            Damn, he loved
the power of the Harley beneath him. Once he got a fair distance from the city
the road opened up and he gunned the engine, paying no attention whatsoever to
the numbers on the speedometer and just enjoying the scenery. The Pacific was
on his left; whitecaps slapping against rocky shores; and the twisting road
brought the blue of the ocean in and out of view. The sleek machine glided over
the pavement, its telltale growl drowning out the sounds of the crashing surf.
He pulled the salt air deep into his lungs, willing it to sweep away the rest
of the cobwebs that clung at the edges of his mind. He tried humming one
InHap’s new numbers, focusing on where he’d place the beats to give it just the
right tempo. A run formed in his head, and he mentally planned out a killer
solo that he’d put somewhere in the summer shows; maybe in the middle of
House
Without a Home.

            He slipped
into auto-pilot; he’d driven this road so many times that he sometimes thought
his bike knew the way home. He was just considering adding a bongo to the solo
when, without warning, his bike lurched beneath him and he had to cut the
handlebar to straighten himself. His stomach lurched in response, and he was
instantly snapped back to focus.  Just as he glanced into the rear-view mirror
to see if he’d hit something, he felt the road go out from under him again.
Everything seemed to happen in slow motion then—he felt the knot in his stomach
as he realized what was happening. Earthquake. And he was in a bad place; with
sheer cliffs on both sides of him. He hit the throttle and hoped to power past
the cliff to his right, but the road buckled beneath him and he slowed up to
maintain control. His stomach fell as the road twisted, and he turned his head
to the right just in time to see a shower of rocks tumbling down the cliff and
sailing into the air, pelting him like a hailstorm. Gunning the engine to get
past the onslaught, he had to just as quickly pull the break as the concrete
split and rose up ahead of him. He heard a crash, and turned his head just in
time to see a basketball-sized boulder catapult off a larger rock and go
airborne. He watched as it turned end-over-end through the air, knowing in his
gut that it was going to make contact long before he heard the sharp
crack
!
as it hit him full force in the face. There was a screech of tires, and then,
for what seemed entirely too long a time, his ears were filled with the
sickening sound of metal slicing hard against asphalt as he went into a slide.
The bike was yanked out from under him, and he tumbled over and over, hearing more
than feeling the assault on his body.  There was one more audible crack, and
then blissfully, his world went black.

            Dylan got the
call on Saturday just as they were sitting down to dinner. “Hey Chloe,” Tia
heard him say enthusiastically as he picked up the call. “What a great
surprise. How’s my favorite other mother?”

            Tia watched as
all the color drained from Dylan’s face in an instant. He sat up ramrod
straight and shot her a look that contained something she’d never before seen
in his eyes—fear. “Oh no,” he said, “tell me what happened.” He held up his
hand to mimic writing, and Tia pulled her journal and a pen from her purse,
opening it to a fresh page.  She waited anxiously as Dylan scribbled notes on
the paper and then chewed on the end of the pen. “Bloody hell. Is he going to
be OK?” she held her breath as he paused.  “I’m on my way, Chloe. I’ll be there
as soon as I possibly can. Tell him to hold on.”

            He ended the
call, and turned to Tia with a heartbroken look on his face. “It’s Bo,” he said
frantically. “There’s been an accident, and he’s in hospital.”

            “Oh my God.”
Tia was on her feet instantly, and Dylan tossed some bills on the table and led
her out of the restaurant just as the server was arriving with their meals.
“I’m sorry,” he said as they headed for the door. “There’s been an emergency.
We have to go.”

            “What
happened, Dyl?” Tia asked as he hustled her out the door and to the car where
Mike was sitting behind the wheel. “Is he OK?”

            “I don’t know.
He was heading home from LA on his bike and an earthquake hit while he was
driving down PCH. That was his mum calling. She’s still on her way to hospital
and doesn’t know the extent of anything yet—just that he’s in ICU…” His eyes
were wide and darting around aimlessly as he tried to process the information
that his best friend was critically injured. Tia knew they both felt the fear
profoundly—they’d both suffered through losing someone they loved, and neither
thought they could go through the crushing agony again. She remembered the day
of Nick’s accident—remembered that the sun was shining, that she’d been wearing
shorts for the first time of the season. The foreman from the job found her in
the yard, doing some early gardening after a good day at work, and she knew as
soon as she’d seen his face that something horrible had happened…

             Tia wrapped
her hand in Dylan’s and pulled out her phone with the other, punching Jessa’s
number. She relayed the information quickly, and jumped from the car before it
even stopped in front of their hotel. “You go check out and I’ll start
packing.” Dylan snapped out of his daze and headed for the front desk as Tia
dashed for the elevator.

            “Oh my God,
what happened?” Lexi asked. Tia and Dylan were on their way to the airport,
both frantically making calls to alert everyone they could about the situation.

            “We’re not
exactly sure yet,” she answered. “Bo’s mom was still on her way to the hospital
when she called and we haven’t heard back from her yet. We’re on our way to the
airport right now, and we’re hoping to get there in time to catch the next
flight out. All we know at this point is that he’s in ICU and that he has
extensive injuries.” She choked on the last words, horrified to associate them
with someone she’d come to love like a brother.

            “Holy shit,”
she whispered. “How long will it take you get there?”

            “Oh God, it’s
going to be the better part of a day.” Her throat constricted and she swallowed
hard. She could really feel the distance all of a sudden, and could feel
Dylan’s tension in knowing that he couldn’t get to his best friend’s side any
sooner. A lot could happen in that amount of time. “That’s if we can catch this
flight—it’s going to be close.”