More Than Exes (3 page)

I kept picturing her face when I’d turned her down, how vulnerable and hurt she’d looked. Maybe I’d made a mistake saying no so fast. Her sudden appearance had completely thrown me off and scrambled my brain, and even now I could barely accept that she was really here. I just needed some time to process that she was back in my life. Once the shock of it wore off, I could figure out what to do about her.

Besides, I had bigger things to worry about. It was 7:25 PM, and Becca hadn’t texted me back or arrived yet. I tried calling her, but it went straight to voicemail. I hung up without leaving a message. Where the hell was she? We still had three hours before our set, but I was starting to get a bad feeling. I texted her again, just in case.

The back door banged open, and Todd came through, followed by his other band members. I turned in the opposite direction and played on my phone, hoping they wouldn’t bother me.

“I thought I saw you in there, emo boy,” Todd said with that shit-eating grin that never left his face. “Don’t tell me your band actually got into this thing?”

I took a deep breath, trying not to let him get to me. “Top spot for UCLA, actually. You?”

“Same, for USC.”

Each band had been ranked by the Battle of the Band organizers based on talent and popularity, with the top band from each school playing at the end of the night when there would be more people to vote for the winner. Todd’s band must be pretty good to get the highest ranking for USC. Then again, based on that other band I’d just heard, maybe not.

“Where’s Jared?” Todd asked. “I know you never go anywhere without your big brother’s permission.”

“Hilarious.” I gestured at his entourage. “How’d you convince these guys to play with you? Did you have to pay them?”

“I got my own band together after I left yours. Turns out I was better off without you losers holding me back.” He laughed, and his cronies behind him joined in with identical chortles. I wanted to punch each of them in the face to wipe off those arrogant smirks.

“After you
left
? More like after we kicked you out.”

We’d tried to work with Todd—we really had. He was a good bassist, but after a few weeks, we’d all had it with his entitled attitude and dickish behavior so Jared got rid of him before things escalated. Good thing, too, because I doubted Hector could have refrained from bashing his head in much longer. Really, Todd should be thanking us.

“Do you even have a bassist now?” Todd asked. “I heard you’ve gone through a bunch since me. Guess I’m a tough act to follow, huh?”

“We have one. She’s better than you, actually.”

“A chick? Let me guess, Jared’s screwing her on the side, too?” He made exaggerated humping motions, and all the other guys joined in, adding sounds to go with their movements. In case anyone around us had missed what huge douchebags they were. I felt dirty just standing near them.

“Real classy,” I said. “And no. He’s a professional. But you wouldn’t know anything about that, obviously.”

Hector walked out before Todd could piss me off any further. He quickly sized up what was going on and moved to my side, crossing his arms. “Hello, Todd.”

He smirked. “Hey,
amigo
. Good to see they haven’t shipped you back to Mexico yet.”

Every muscle in Hector’s body tensed. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

Wow, I’d thought I couldn’t hate Todd any more, but he’d just proven me wrong. It wasn’t the first comment he’d made like that—once he’d asked Hector if he had swam here from Mexico—but it shocked me every time. This one was especially bad, though, because Hector’s parents had been deported when he was a kid, leaving him with his grandmother and his three little sisters. I doubted Todd knew that, but that didn’t excuse him being a racist shit.

He was an idiot if he wanted to mess with Hector, even with his three friends at his back. Hector worked out a ton to keep up his stamina for shows, and he’d been in plenty of fights before. He could probably take all four of these guys and not even break a sweat.

“Just messing with you, bro.” Todd did that arrogant laugh again. This time his friends didn’t join in.

Hector’s hands clenched into fists, and a vein in his neck throbbed. I was tempted to let him knock Todd out—hell, I was pretty close to joining in myself—but we couldn’t afford to get in a fight and risk getting kicked out of the competition.

I put a hand on Hector’s shoulder. “Let’s go inside.”

“Yeah, run back to big brother!” Todd called as we headed for the door. Hector stiffened and I thought he would turn back, but he shook it off and we made it inside without throwing any punches.

“I hate that guy,” Hector muttered.

“Who doesn’t? Todd wins Asshole of the Year every year. Don’t let him get to you.”

We returned to the main room where our friends, Twisted Regime, were on stage doing an AFI cover. I didn’t see Alexis anywhere. Not that I was looking for her.

Okay, I was totally looking for her. But only so I could avoid her. That was it. Really.

I checked my phone again. Still nothing from Becca. I sent her yet another text, this time with a lot of exclamation points, but I didn’t think that would get answered, either.

Jared joined us, and I was relieved to see he was alone. “Is Becca here?”

“I tried calling and texting, but she won’t answer,” I said.

“Shit.” Jared ran a hand through his spiked-up hair, stress starting to peek through on his face. He was good at keeping it hidden, but I knew what to look for. “She knows how important this show is. She’s coming, right?”

“She’s probably running late.” I didn’t believe that, but I didn’t want Jared to freak out. I quickly changed the subject. “Todd’s here, though, with a new band. They’ve got the top spot for USC.”

Jared’s eyebrows shot up. “Who did he blow to get that?”

“Who knows? Probably paid someone off. Hector nearly took his head off outside.”

“I’m sure he deserved it.”

“Damn straight,” Hector said.

“Oh, he did,” I said. “He made another racist comment to Hector and said you were screwing Becca. What a jackass.”

Jared coughed. “He said that?”

“Yeah.” I rolled my eyes, but something about Jared’s expression made me pause. He looked almost…guilty. “Oh, hell no. Don’t tell me he’s right?”

“I’m not
screwing
her…” He trailed off and rubbed the back of his neck.

I finished the sentence for him as it all came together in my head. “But you did.”

It wasn’t a question, and yet I hoped he would deny it. Every part of me wanted to believe my brother wouldn’t be stupid enough to hook up with Becca, not when we’d finally found a good bassist, scored a decent gig, and had a shot at winning an even better one. But he looked away, and I knew the answer.

That’s it. I was going to kill my brother.

“What the fuck, Jared?” Hector asked, echoing my thoughts exactly.

He held up his hands in surrender. “It was last week, after the parking lot show. We were drunk, she started taking her clothes off, one thing led to another… I didn’t mean for it to happen, I swear.”

“That doesn’t make it okay!” I couldn’t believe he’d do this. Yes, Jared got around, and yes, it had been obvious to everyone that Becca wanted him. But the band
always
came first to Jared, and he must have known this would only mess things up.

“It was a stupid mistake, and we both agreed it was just a dumb hook-up and didn’t mean anything. I thought she was fine with it. But at that party last night, she caught me making out with another girl and nearly took my head off, so I guess she’s not as fine with it as she said.”

“You think?” I snapped. No wonder Becca hadn’t shown up.

“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t think it would be a problem.”

Hector glared at him. “No because you never think with anything other than your dick.”

Jared frowned but didn’t answer. Probably because he knew Hector was right. I rubbed my face, trying to wipe all of this away. How was I going to fix this?

“If Becca doesn’t show up soon, we’re fucked,” Hector said.

Jared sighed. “I’d call her, but I doubt she’d listen to me.”

“Let me handle it.” I wanted to strangle my brother, but that wouldn’t solve anything. He’d gotten us into this mess, and as usual, it was my job to get us out of it. I checked my phone. 7:40 PM. Only a few hours to find Becca before our set. I had to try. “Any idea where she is right now?”

“No clue. You could try her apartment, I guess.”

“Where is it?”

He gave me the address, and I put it into my phone. Luckily she lived fairly close. As long as traffic wasn’t too bad, I’d make it back with plenty of time to spare. Assuming she was at her apartment. If not, we were screwed.

“I’ll go with you,” Hector said.

“No, stay with Jared. If I run late, you two will have to set up all our gear. And if she does show up while I’m gone, you might need to stop them from killing each other.”

Hector grunted. “Fine.”

I held out my hand. “Keys.”

Jared reluctantly dropped the keys in my palm. “Maybe I should go…” He didn’t like anyone else driving the band’s van, but tough shit.

“Hell no. You’ve done enough. Just stay here and try not to piss anyone else off.” I gave Hector a look that I hoped conveyed,
Keep him out of trouble
. He nodded, so he must have gotten the gist.

I fumed the entire way to the van. How could Jared do this to us? How could Becca? I was pissed at my brother, but she was partly to blame, too. They both must have known what a bad idea sleeping together was at the time. I didn’t care how drunk or horny they’d been; they should have thought about how this would affect the rest of us. But clearly they hadn’t, and now I was cleaning up after my brother once again. Not exactly how I wanted to spend my Saturday night.

At least it got me out of having to avoid Alexis for the next hour or so.

I got in the van and put the key in the ignition, but when I turned it, nothing happened. What the…? I tried it again, and this time got a few pathetic noises from it but not much else. This must be a mistake. The van had worked fine when we’d arrived. I checked the dashboard but didn’t see any warning lights, and we still had gas. It
should
work. I tried again. And again. Still nothing. Dammit!

I banged on the steering wheel, accidentally honking the horn. Could this night get
any
worse?

“Car trouble?” Alexis asked from outside my window.

And just like that, it did.

I
’d been so distracted trying to get the van to start I must not have noticed her approach. She leaned through the window to glance at the dashboard, giving me a glimpse down her shirt. “Need some help?”

I tilted my head back and closed my eyes, trying to block out the image of her impressive cleavage. That was the last thing I needed to deal with right now. Maybe if I waited a minute, everything would be fixed when I opened my eyes. The van would work, and Alexis would be gone. Or, even better, Becca would be standing there instead of Alexis. I held my breath and waited for a miracle.

“Where are you going, anyway?” she asked. “Aren’t you on soon?”

She was still there. The eyes-closed plan was a total fail. Damn.

“Not until 10:30. Our bassist is missing and I need to track her down, but our fucking van won’t start.”

I tried it again, hoping the fifth time would be the charm, but it just made that pathetic sound. I considered popping the hood and checking the engine, but I’d have no clue what to look for. Cars weren’t my thing, and Jared and Hector were just as useless with them as I was.

“I don’t suppose you picked up anything about fixing cars at Princeton?” I asked.

“No. But I could drive you.”

I’d been avoiding looking at her as much as possible, but now my gaze snapped to her face. “Don’t you have work to do here?”

She shrugged and tossed back a lock of her fiery hair, revealing a view of her graceful neck. “I have all the photos I need for the moment. I’m just waiting around until Rubber Horse goes on stage. We should be back by then, right?”

“We better be. We’re on right after them.”

I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel and tried to think of some other option. I could call AAA, but it would take them too long to get here and they’d probably want to tow the van to a mechanic, anyway. Public transportation in LA was such a joke I’d never get to Becca’s place and back in time. If there was anyone else I could ask for help, I would have, but Alexis was my only hope. Still, I hesitated. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be alone in a car with her. I had a feeling if I did this I’d be starting down a path I wasn’t sure I wanted to travel.

I wracked my brain for any other solution, but in the end, it was my only option. “Are you sure?” I asked, giving her one last chance to change her mind.

“I’m sure.” She laid her red-tipped fingers on my arm, over my phoenix tattoo. “I want to help you.”

I swallowed as heat rushed through me, like she’d ignited the inked flames she was touching, and hopped out of the van. “Okay. Thanks.”

“My car’s over here,” she said, leading me to the other side of the parking lot.