More Than Exes (6 page)

Even if I still loved her, I wasn’t sure love was enough anymore.

W
e pulled into a Jack In The Box, and Becca groaned. “I don’t feel good.”

Alexis shot her a warning glance. “Don’t you dare throw up in my car.”

I scanned Becca’s face, which had taken on a color only a few shades away from her hair. “We better go inside.”

Alexis abandoned the drive-thru line and pulled into a parking spot. I hopped out and moved the seat up, but Becca didn’t budge.

“C’mon, Becca,” I said.

She moaned and then flopped to the side and practically rolled out of the car. I caught her arm to help her up, and she leaned against me while I led her inside. Everyone stared at us, either because of our kaleidoscope of hair colors or because Becca looked like she might hurl at any moment. How was she going to play tonight if she was like this?

“I’ll get some food,” Alexis said. “You stay with her.” She got in line behind one of those guys with big, bushy beards that made you wonder whether he was homeless or just a hipster.

I dumped Becca into a booth and sat across from her. “Are you going to be sick?”

“I need a cigarette,” she mumbled.

“Is that a no?”

She jumped up and ran into the bathroom, covering her mouth. I heard gagging sounds just as the door shut, so I guessed that answered my question.

Alexis was still at the counter, so I texted Jared to let him know the situation and then got up to knock on the bathroom door. “Becca, you okay in there?”

“Go away!” she yelled.

Well, at least she wasn’t passed out on the floor. “Can I get you anything?”

“No!”

The sound of vomiting continued, and I raked my fingers through my hair. “All right. I’m out here if you need me.”

I dropped back into the booth as Alexis returned with a tray of food. She slid in next to me, her arm brushing against mine. I tensed up but didn’t move away, waiting to see if she would bring up our conversation from the car. I wasn’t ready yet. The wound was still too raw and tender.

“How’s she doing?” Alexis asked, and I relaxed.

“Not good.”

“Maybe she’ll feel better after she throws up.”

“Maybe…” Or maybe we were completely screwed.

“I got her a breakfast meal. Pancakes, hash browns… She’ll be sober in no time.” Alexis started arranging the food on the table. “Have you eaten anything?”

“No. Haven’t had time.”

“Here, I got you something.” She slid a cheeseburger over to me, along with curly fries and a coffee. The cheeseburger even had bacon on it. All of my favorite things—she remembered.

“Thanks,” I said as I took a bite. “Mmm… Bacon makes everything better.”

She unwrapped one of those tiny, crunchy tacos, and I burst into laughter. “What?” she asked.

“You’re still eating those nasty things?”

She gave me a playful shove on the shoulder. “They are not nasty! Just because you once ate so many of them you got sick doesn’t mean they’re not delicious.”

“Don’t remind me,” I said with a groan. “Damn, I can’t believe you remember that.”

“Of course I do. I remember everything, babe.”

For a second, it was like we were in high school again on some crazy, late-night adventure. We’d always ended up in one food place or another, drunk on love and music and youth, and she’d always called me “babe.”

We resumed eating, but my every sense was completely tuned to her body next to mine. I didn’t taste any of my food; there was only her, living and breathing and real. No longer a ghost haunting my memories, but beside me again. Despite all the heartache, sitting so close to her felt natural, like the world had clicked back into alignment. Like I’d taken a big gulp of air after holding my breath too long.

I wanted to bring up our conversation from the car, but I wasn’t sure how to ease back in without it turning into another fight. “Were your parents mad that you left Princeton?” There. That was relatively safe.

“They were disappointed, especially my dad, but they were happy I was back in California, too. Until they saw the tattoos and the hair, anyway. Then they wanted to disown me.”

“Bet they would have loved to blame me for that one.” Her parents had always hated me—for being in a rock band and having tattoos and generally being a “bad influence.”

“I’m sure they wished they could have. What about your parents?”

I crumpled the empty burger wrapper in my fist. “I barely talk to them.”

We’d been in high school when my parents had split up, and Jared and I had gotten stuck in the middle of their nasty divorce. Our parents fought over custody, over money, over the house, over everything down to a broken lamp in the garage. They each tried to get us to turn against the other parent, to give up information, to make us choose, but we wouldn’t. Jared had taken it better than I had, of course. I’d been so angry, so willing to rage at anything and anyone, so eager to do anything to forget for a little while.

After I’d gotten caught stealing and almost gotten my dumb ass arrested, my parents had made me see a shrink. Then my dad had tried to get the shrink to testify that my actions showed that my mother was unfit to have custody over me. My mom had retaliated by bringing up my father’s cocaine addiction and all his affairs. I’d spiraled lower and lower, hating them both, hating myself, wanting it all to end. One night, I’d tried to make the pain stop with pills and alcohol. That’s when Jared had somehow convinced my parents to let him have custody of me until I turned eighteen. To this day, I still don’t know how he did it, but I wouldn’t be alive today without him. He’d helped me redirect my anger, and music became my savior.

And then I’d met Alexis and the world had truly seemed worth living in again. Like Jared, she’d believed in me, even when I was at my worst. With my history, I’d never expected to go to college, but she’d convinced me not to give up on school. She’d spent hours tutoring me to make sure my grades got better, making me take a hundred SAT practice tests until I got my scores up and helping me write entrance essays about how I’d turned my life around with the power of love and music and all that bullshit. It was only due to her tireless efforts that I’d gotten into UCLA at all.

“I’m sorry,” Alexis said. “I know that’s a sore subject.”

I shrugged. If anyone knew what I’d been through with my parents, it was Alexis. “Their divorce went through finally. My mom moved to New York last year, but my dad’s still in LA. I’m just glad they’re not dragging us into court every week anymore.”

“That’s good.” She pushed around a stray curly fry. “And Jared, he’s…better?”

“Sort of. I mean, he’s not drinking as much or getting into fights these days, at least. But he still has a new girl in his bed every other night.”

At eighteen, Jared had given up his spot at Columbia and switched to UCLA at the last minute to take care of me. And yeah, he’d been a terrible cook, he’d sucked at keeping the house clean, and he’d shrunk all our laundry, but he’d also made sure the bills got paid, that I’d gotten to school every day, and that I’d had someone looking out for me, all while going to college himself. That was more than I could say for our parents.

So when Jared caught his long-term girlfriend sleeping with Ben—our first bassist and my best friend at the time—and snapped, I’d been there for him, too. For a year after that, it was a rare night when he hadn’t stumbled home at 4 AM either drunk, with bloody knuckles and a black eye, or on the arm of some new girl. Or all of the above. He’d been a mess, and I couldn’t have left him to go to college with Alexis. Jared had always been there when I’d needed him, so I’d done the same for him when he’d fallen apart. That’s what brothers did: we stuck together, no matter what. Even if it meant giving up what we wanted.

Even if it meant losing the girl I loved.

“Same old Jared, then.” A sad smile touched her lips. “I miss the Jared before all that, who’d help us with our homework and then make us popcorn and let us stay up all night watching horror movies.”

“Me too. I think that Jared is gone for good, though. You saw what happened with him and Becca.” I let out a bitter laugh. “You seem to be the one girl who can resist him.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Oh, gross. He’s like my big brother.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Good.”

“Trust me, you don’t have anything to worry about there.” She rested her hand lightly on mine, like she wasn’t sure if I would pull away. “Kyle, it’s
always
been you.”

I missed this. The simple things, like holding her hand. The way she flipped her hair over her shoulder. The glint in her green eyes when she laughed at something I said. The freckles on her cute nose peeking out from under her makeup. The softness of her red lips, the delicate curve of her neck, the swell of her breasts…

I looked away, clearing my throat. “Alexis, what do you want from me?”

Her hand tightened around mine. “Three years ago, I made a huge mistake. It
killed
me to break up with you, and I’ve regretted it ever since. I should have tried to make it work long distance, but I messed up.” Her voice trembled, but she went on. “I know you’ll probably never forgive me for what I did, and I don’t blame you. All I want now is a second chance to try to make it up to you. To do something different this time. To prove I never stopped loving you.”

Her words woke up something within me—a memory of what we used to be and a spark of hope for what we might be again. “I
am
happy to see you,” I admitted, referring to what she’d said in the car. “But why should I believe anything will be different this time?”

She raised her free hand to my cheek. “Because I’ve changed. I’m not afraid to be who I am anymore. I’m not afraid to fight for what I want.
Who
I want.”

I wanted, more than anything, to believe her. I leaned into her touch, staring at the girl I had always loved, who said she still loved me. I didn’t take my eyes off her as she trailed her fingers down, along my stubble, tracing my jaw. Her touch was soft but direct, like she was exploring the changes in my face since she’d last seen me. I held completely still. I didn’t blink. I didn’t breathe. If I moved, I’d break the spell over both of us.

Her fingers skimmed down my neck, and she laid her hand against my chest, digging her fingers into my Joy Division T-shirt where it said,
Love Will Tear Us Apart
. She was already so close, her thigh pressed against mine in the tiny booth, her strawberry-and-spice scent tickling my nose with each breath. Being with her again was so familiar, so comfortable, so
right
. I couldn’t stop myself from moving closer, resting my hand on the curve of her shoulder, lowering my head to hers. I closed my eyes, savoring that instant before our mouths met, before everything changed between us and there was no going back.

But I never got to kiss her because Becca slumped down in the booth across from us and groaned. I jerked away from Alexis, and the fog in my head cleared a little.

“You’re back,” I said, like an idiot.

Becca reeked of vomit and alcohol, but at least she’d returned to a normal color. She grabbed the coffee in front of her and started chugging it. “Were you two making out?”

“I wish,” Alexis said with the hint of a smile.

Damn, we
had
been about to make out, right in the middle of a Jack In The Box with the hipster/homeless guy watching us from another booth. I needed to get a grip.

I reminded myself of my priorities: get Becca, return to the club, win the Battle. Becca. Club. Battle. Alexis was a distraction I didn’t have time for at the moment, no matter how tempting she was.

“Are you feeling better?” I asked Becca. “‘Cause we need to get going.”

“Fine, let’s go, but I’m taking this with me.” Becca scooped up her breakfast meal as she stood up.

“Just don’t get syrup all over my car,” Alexis said.

“Deal.”

She headed for the door, and for a moment, Alexis and I were alone in the booth again. Our eyes locked, and the electricity of our near-kiss crackled between us. If we touched, we’d surely set off sparks. I almost reached for her, anyway. It was so damn hard to leave her alone.

Focus, Kyle
. Becca. Club. Battle. Later I’d figure out how I felt about Alexis and what I would do about it. Later I could kiss her for hours, if I wanted. But not now. I had to get my band back together first.