More Than Exes (2 page)

He took off toward one of the UCLA bands we often played with, and I decided I’d had enough of this torture. I walked past Jared, who was still leaning against the wall, now with Tiffany pressed against him. He held the drink she’d given him in one hand and trailed the other up and down her back. She tilted her head up and said something that made him grin, and then he kissed her right there in front of me.

Ugh. My brother always worked fast, but it’d be nice if I didn’t have to see it all the damn time. The worst part was there were other girls hovering nearby, hoping for their chance with him soon. Hello, I was right there and available. But no one looked at me as I brushed past them and through the door.

It wasn’t much quieter backstage, and worse, it reeked of piss, weed, and cheap cologne. The area was tiny—little more than a hallway, really—and filled to the brim with the other bands standing around waiting for their sets. Graffiti had been scrawled across every inch of the walls underneath faded and ripped posters of bands like Bad Religion and the Sex Pistols. Dim lighting barely concealed the empty plastic cups, used ticket stubs, and god only knew what else that littered the floor.

I slipped off to a corner to sip my beer in peace and check out our competition. Tonight four bands from each college would compete against each other to win a $1,000 prize and a gig next month at a bigger club on Hollywood Boulevard, along with a $1,000 donation to the winning college’s music program. USC had won the last two years, so the pressure was on for us to end their streak. Not to mention, we really wanted that gig. This was our chance to finally break out, to move beyond playing frat house parties and underground shows in the UCLA parking lot.

One band stood out from the others in pastel-colored shirts, khaki shorts, and shoes that looked more suited to taking daddy’s boat for a spin than going to a club like this. With their frat boy looks and entitled smiles, I could almost guarantee they were from USC, and in the middle of them was Todd, another one of our former bassists.

Had Todd joined a new band? He went to USC so it was possible, but I couldn’t imagine anyone actually putting up with the guy. Maybe he’d only recently joined and his bandmates hadn’t yet realized what a dick he was. They’d find out soon enough like we had.

A girl showed up and started talking to Todd with one hand on her hip, her long, bright-red hair trailing down her back. Not natural red, but Starburst red. Hot Tamale red. Like candy I’d like to take a bite of. She had her back to me but wore a black leather jacket and jeans tight enough to show off her perfect ass. She tucked her hair behind her ear, and I caught a glimpse of a tattoo on her wrist. Hot. Too bad she was with Todd.

She raised a professional-looking camera and peered through it, taking shots of Todd’s band. Maybe she wasn’t actually with him, but a photographer for the show. My theory seemed to be confirmed when she turned to snap a few photos of the chaos around us.

I kept my eyes on her as she moved through the crowd, trying to get a glimpse of her face. But when she lowered her camera, the entire world stopped.

I recognized her.

I hadn’t seen her in years and she looked completely different now, but I’d know that face anywhere. Those bright green eyes, those lush red lips, that smooth pale skin with the hint of freckles across her tiny nose. The girl I would never forget, the girl I could never get over.

Alexis Monroe.

W
hat was Alexis doing here? She was supposed to be at Princeton, not here in LA and definitely not at our show tonight. Maybe she
was
with Todd’s band. He was exactly her kind of guy, living off daddy’s money and taking the private jet on vacations. But still, it was
Todd
. I thought she had better taste than that.

For a split-second, I debated whether I could duck out or hide or something, but she paused with her camera half-raised to her face, her eyes wide and her lips parted. She’d seen me. It was too late to escape.

We stared at each other for the longest minute of my life. She looked so different it was hard to believe it was actually her. Gone was her preppy image, with the stuffy cardigans and sensible shoes. In her leather jacket and studded boots, she looked like she belonged with our band, not Todd’s. And her hair… It had always been red, but when we were in high school, it had been natural red. A soft ginger color. Copper and bronze. The color of the sun as it set over the horizon. I’d spent hours running my fingers through it and watching the strands glow as the light hit them. Now it was Maraschino cherry red, but still just as beautiful.

And that was definitely a tattoo on her wrist, though I couldn’t tell what it was from this distance. She’d told me she would never get another tattoo, not after the ones we’d gotten together. What had changed in the past three years?

Of course, I looked different, too. My hair was dyed black now and longer, with an annoying tendency to fall in my eyes instead of sticking up like Jared’s did. I’d added round black gauges to my ears, and I had more tattoos—not just on my arms, but across my chest, up my neck, and down my fingers. We’d both changed. My change just hadn’t been quite as dramatic as hers because I’d already been halfway there when we’d broken up. Hell, that was one of the reasons she’d dumped me: that we were too different from each other and I wouldn’t fit in with her new Princeton lifestyle. Kind of ironic that she had now fallen to the dark side herself.

Everything else faded away until it was only Alexis and me and all of our history stretching between us. Memories flashed through my mind like a slideshow. The first time we’d talked in tenth grade English class, when I’d finally worked up the courage to say hello to the girl so completely out of my league. The first time we’d kissed, in front of my piano after I’d tried—and failed—to teach her to play it. The first time we’d had sex, in her room surrounded by pink walls while her parents were out of town. Sneaking out to concerts using fake IDs. Practicing with the band while she watched and did her homework. Studying for the SATs together. Prom night. And finally, graduation—the last time I’d seen her.

What was I supposed to do? Walk over and say,
Hey, how’s it going? How have you been since you ripped out my heart, tore it into a thousand pieces, and stomped all over it?
I could ignore her and walk away before things got weird, try to avoid her for the rest of the night. No, hiding would seem weak, like I wasn’t over her or something. That was out, which meant I had to man up and talk to her.

I pushed off the wall and made my way through the throng of people, and she ditched Todd’s band to meet me halfway. She stood a little straighter as I neared but was still a few inches shorter than me. The perfect height for our bodies to fit together. I moved to hug her, either out of habit or because it seemed the natural thing to do, but I shoved my hands in my pockets instead.

“Alexis,” I said. “Long time, no see.”

“Kyle,” she said, in that breathy voice I knew too well, the one she used when she was excited. I’d heard her say my name like that many times—along with,
Oh god
and
Don’t stop
and
Yes!

I quickly pushed those memories aside. Thinking about Alexis like that would get me both turned on and depressed, and that combo couldn’t lead to anything good. Especially since her body was as amazing as I remembered, with large, round breasts and curvy hips I wanted to run my hands over. I tried not to stare, but she gave me a dazzling smile that reeled me back in.

“It’s so good to see you,” she said, and I could tell from the way her face lit up that she meant it.

“What are you doing in LA? I thought you were at Princeton.”

“I was for the first two years, but I transferred to USC for my junior year.”

She’d been back in LA for months and hadn’t contacted me all this time? I wasn’t surprised exactly. She’d made it clear that we were done and she wanted nothing to do with me. But it still hurt a little.

I started to ask her why she’d come back to LA, but then it would seem like I cared and I didn’t want that. “You look different. Your hair… I like it.”

“Oh, thanks,” she said, smoothing a loose curl. “My parents hate it.”

“I bet.”

“You look different, too. The hair, your tattoos…” Her lips quirked up, and her gaze traveled below my waist and then back to my face. “You look really good.”

There went my plan of not getting turned on. I coughed and adjusted my weight, trying to hide the growing bulge in my jeans. “What are you doing here tonight?”

“I’m taking photos for the school paper.” She gestured behind her at Todd and his friends, who were chugging drinks and pumping their fists like they were at a football game.

“You know those guys?” I asked, hoping she’d say no.

“Yep, they’re one of the USC bands. Rubber Horse.”

I cringed. Their name was an obvious play not just on the USC mascot, but also the condom brand and the Trojan horse from myth. Exactly the kind of thing Todd would choose.

“I didn’t know you were going to be here,” Alexis blurted out. “I didn’t see Cross Paths listed on the lineup.”

Wow, I’d forgotten how bad our original band name had been, back when Jared and I were dumb kids who thought using our last name was a good idea. “We’re called Villain Complex now.”

Her head tilted as she considered it. “Villain Complex… I like it.”

“Jared came up with it.”

“Why am I not surprised?” She laughed. “How’s he doing? Is he here? And Hector?”

“They’re both by the bar. They’re…good.” I tried to think of what else I could say about them. When you haven’t seen someone in years, it’s hard to know how much info to give about everything they’d missed. “Jared graduated last year, and now he manages the band and works as a bartender. Hector finished art school and has a graphic novel coming out later this month.”

“That’s great. I’d love to see them again.”

“Um, that might not be such a good idea.”

“Oh…” Her face fell, her smile vanishing. “They probably hate me, huh?”

“They’re…not your biggest fans, no.”

“I guess I understand that.” She took a step closer, looking up at me with hopeful eyes. “What about you? Do you hate me, Kyle?”

She smelled faintly of strawberries, and I had to look away before I did something stupid—like kiss her or push her away, I wasn’t sure which. Did I hate her? Maybe once, but the anger was long gone now. After I’d started college, I’d moved on and tried to forget her. I thought I’d succeeded, too, until tonight. Now all the old scabs had fallen off and started bleeding again.

“No, I don’t hate you.”

She exhaled in a rush. “Good. Because I was hoping we could get a drink and catch up.”

A part of me jumped to say yes, but I forced it down. I needed this conversation to end so I could escape and then avoid her for the rest of the night. The longer I was in her presence, the more I ached to touch her, the more I remembered how good she’d felt in my arms, the more I wanted to kiss her again. The nostalgia for what we’d once had was so strong it was almost crippling.

“Look, Alexis, I…” I trailed off, trying to find the right words. “It’s just not a good idea. I’m sorry. But it was good to see you again. Really.”

A flash of pain crossed her face. “Oh. Okay. Yeah. Maybe some other time.”

The look in her eyes as I walked away made me feel like a total ass, but what else could I do? Spending even these few minutes with her had been torture. There were too many memories between us, both good and bad, and I didn’t need to relive them again. Three years ago, I’d have done anything to make it work with her, even long distance, but she’d said no. I’d wanted forever, but she’d told me it was over, that she didn’t love me anymore, that she was too good for someone like me.

And no matter how different she seemed or how hurt she looked, when she rejoined Todd and his friends I knew nothing had changed.

I
finished my beer outside in the parking lot behind the club. It was quiet there or as quiet as it could be with the sounds of traffic and palm trees crashing in the wind. The Santa Anas were kicking up again tonight, drying out my eyes with warm gusts that blew trash everywhere. Still, it was better than being inside where my options were to listen to that band butcher their instruments, watch Jared make out with someone, or talk to my ex-girlfriend. I couldn’t stay outside all night, but this seemed the safest way to avoid Alexis for as long as possible.