The Problem With Heartache (34 page)

Or it did until the whoosh of the door swinging open made me freeze; made us both freeze.

“Do you want to go out for a …”

It was one of those moments where the world slows down, and you remember things in slow motion. Me, kicking the door to, and obviously not getting it caught in the latch. Me, ignoring the subtle buzz of my phone as it had vibrated against the bedside table.

And now, there was Lottie.

And she didn’t look impressed.

Four years, five months ago …

I’
D RUN
after them out to the parking lot, but by the time I had gotten there—allowing a minute for me to pull on some pants—they’d gone. Ryan’s car had sped down the road, dust flying up under the wheels, and I’d slapped myself on the forehead and cursed, kicking a power pole, which did absolutely nothing to resolve the situation, but did create a nasty sting in my foot.

Now, I stood with my hand poised, ready to knock on Carly’s door. Ready to face what hell had just occurred and try, try to stop the aching in my heart, the dull ache that reminded me that
she had lied
. We weren’t meant to be together at all.

I gave three sharp raps and stood back, waiting for the door to swing open.

When it finally did, her father answered, his brow furrowed. “You’re here for … Carly.”

“Yes, if I can please, sir.” I nodded.

The man shook his head and shrugged, gesturing down the hall. “She’s outside in the courtyard, talking to
her Ryan
.” He emphasised those last two words, and I felt about an inch tall. No wonder he’d acted strange the first day we’d met; he knew she had a boyfriend, would have seen the resemblance, and he knew I didn’t belong.

I didn’t belong with Carly.

“Thanks,” I said, and started walking.

Suddenly, my arm was jerked back and I froze.

“You musicians … you’re all the same,” he hissed in my ear. “You so much as try to hit on my baby girl and I’ll eat you alive.”

I paused. It didn’t seem appropriate to tell him just how far that ship had sailed.

When he said nothing further I kept walking, sliding open the balcony door and slamming it shut behind me.

“Some nerve you have, showing up here.” Ryan stormed up to me and shoved me in the chest, catching me unawares and sending me backward till I slammed my body against the glass door.

“I want answers.” I used my foot to propel myself forward. He wouldn’t intimidate me. He couldn’t intimidate me.

“You knew I was going to marry her, bro—you
knew
—and you fucked her anyway?” Ryan’s face was red, and he looked up to the sky as if it had all the answers.

I could tell him that it didn’t. I’d been searching there for the past hour, desperately seeking a solution, but all I’d found was a weird form of insignificance, as if my life were meaningless. I was nothing. When it came to the galaxy, I was the smallest motherfucker around.

Maybe that was why Carly had found it so easy to rip me in pieces. Maybe that was why she didn’t care, hanging out with me, making me believe, all while she was seeing my brother. Because she knew.

She had to have known.

“Carly.” I stared at her with hurt eyes. “Why …?”

Carly sobbed, her arms wrapped around her waist and I could see the pain she was in from her shaking body, her tightly shut eyes. I stepped forward to try and offer her some comfort but Ryan stepped in front of me, giving me another short push back. “Dude! Don’t you get it? She’s my fucking girlfriend.”

“She’s mine, Ryan! We’ve been hanging out, talking on the phone every day for weeks,” I spat, the words flying out my mouth before I could think them through. “She didn’t even mention your name to me; not once.”

I still couldn’t figure that out myself. Why hadn’t she mentioned him?

“I did!” Carly screamed. “I told you there was this guy, and he was out of town a lot, and …” Her words dissipated into a stream of sobbing.

My heart stopped. That line hadn’t been some cute way of telling me to stick around.

That line was about my brother.

“I … I thought you were talking about me.” I almost whispered the words. Ryan snorted.

And yet still, I
knew
that she was going to choose me. Carly and I had such amazing chemistry. We were meant to be together …

Now, though, those words weren’t filled with the usual solace I found in them. Now it was less of a sentence, more of a question.

“I’m so, so sorry,” Carly choked. “I didn’t mean to … to do any of it.”

“It’s okay, baby—”

“It’s not okay!” Carly pushed Ryan away, and his face was as red and as hurt as if she’d slapped him. “It’s not okay. Ryan, I love you—you were my—”

“Don’t.” His voice was small, but I heard it. Oh, I heard it. Right through my bones. “Don’t say
were
.”

“Haven’t you ever been confused about what you wanted?” Carly held her palms up in the air. “I was drunk. I made a mistake, Lee. I’m sorry.”

It should have been enough.

But it wasn’t.

Every time we’d laughed—a lie.

Every moment we’d shared—a lie.

Every secret we’d told—a lie.

And now, the time we’d made love—lie, lie, lie.

Because it wasn’t
making love.
It never was if your woman was with someone else.

Especially if that someone was your brother.

I turned on my heel and stormed out of there, ignoring Carly’s pleas for me to stay, Ryan’s shouts for me to go. I opened the door to my car and was just about to hop inside when a flurry of footsteps raced to my side. I spun around just in time to receive a huge clock in the jaw from my dear, estranged brother, and then everything went black.

Four weeks later …

I
T HURT.
The pain roiled around in my gut, and I couldn’t get her out of my mind. I’d texted Carly; I’d asked for time, just a few weeks for me to sort my head out and for Ryan to cool off. If she wanted it, of course.

As for me? I so badly wanted it all, but I didn’t have the first clue as to how to get it.

I sang the songs at the gigs we played with little to no recollection of my voice hitting the notes. I was in another world, another time. I was waiting for things to settle. Waiting to see Carly.

And then I did. In the very front row of a concert in Seattle.

After our last song, I signalled to the security guards to bring her back-stage, and waited in our dressing room. After a heap of ribbing, the guys finally left, all nodding a ‘Hey, Carly’ as they passed her on the way out. The door finally closed, and it was the two of us. Carly and me.

“You’ve talked about me to your friends,” she said, resting against a table in the corner and folding her arms. “Good things, I hope.”

I smiled, a huff of air expelling from my lungs. “I haven’t told them you’re with my brother, if that’s what you’re asking.”

A flash of hurt darkened Carly’s eyes, and she shook her head. “I’m sorry for hurting you, Lee. I … I fucked up. I just … I liked you, a lot, and … and …” She started to cry, and as much as I wanted to hate her, wanted to tell her to get the hell out of my dressing room and go back to my brother, I couldn’t. This was Carly. My Carly. I still wanted her as mine.

And somewhere, deep down inside of me, I wasn’t ready to let that go.

I closed the three-step gap that separated us and pulled her to my chest, her sweet floral scent infiltrating my nose. I rubbed one hand up and down her back, the other wrapped up in her hair.

“Everything’s so hard,” she cried against me, her tears mingling with my sweat. “I’ve made a big mistake.”

“Shh,” I hushed, holding her tighter. “It’s going to be okay. Nothing you’ve done can’t be fixed, okay? We’re in this together. I’m here for you.”

Carly pulled back and looked me in the eye, her green orbs shining with fear and something else, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. “No. There’s something I have to tell you. Not just Ryan. Something I haven’t told him; I can’t. Not until I know. Something big.”

I sucked in a breath. What else could she possibly have to lay on me now?

Present day …

“Y
OU DIDN’T
knock?” I scrambled off Kate, covering her with the sheets and grabbing the comforter to hide my nudity. Not that it really mattered. Lottie had seen it all before.

“You’re fucking each other?” Lottie’s eyes widened, her voice octaves higher than normal. I walked around her and slammed the door shut. I had a feeling this wasn’t going to be good.

“Was that photo that almost leaked deliberate? Are you trying to play happy little families?”

“What photo?” I frowned, keeping my voice low, level, a direct contrast to Lottie’s screech.

“The one you said that paparazzi guy had. The three of you! Is this all a game to try and take my son—”

“What is going on?” Kate asked. She clutched the sheets close to her neck, her neck gaze flicking from Lottie to me. She looked so frail, so scared that I wanted to hold her tight, make everything okay.

Lottie, however, clearly felt none of my empathy. “You’re doing this to me,
to us
, but you haven’t told her?” Lottie laughed, a bitter laugh that ran cold through my bones. “Oh, this is good. So you’ve chosen Kate, some random from Australia—”