Then There Was You (38 page)

Chris was silent for several seconds.

The lump in my throat grew too big to swallow and tears sprang to my eyes. “Please, Chris,” I pleaded, sounding more desperate than angry. “Please tell me what those pictures didn’t say.”

“Nothing,” he said quietly.

And there it was—the knife to my heart. “I didn’t think so,” I barely whispered. My body felt numb. My mind went blank. The weight on my chest was so heavy that I could barely breathe.

He sighed, “I’m sorry, Salem.”

“Don’t apologize,” I said sharply
. This is my fault. He’s a freaking rock star. I knew better!
I knew better than to get this close to him. It was only a matter of time before he’d get drunk one night and start thinking with the head in his pants instead.

Pleading desperation filled his voice. “Please, let me explain—”

“What’s there to explain?” I replied bitterly, hating that I sounded like the jealous girlfriend when we hadn’t even established what we were. I guess I just assumed when he told me he loved me that I meant something to him. “You said it yourself. The pictures tell it all.”

Groveling, he begged, “Oh god, Salem, I’m so sorry. Please, Salem, hear me out. I was so fucked up. Please understand… This isn’t easy for me, you know—this life.”

My seething anger got the best of me. “No, I can’t imagine life as one big ass party every minute of every day.”

Just then, as if I’d flipped a switch, his desperation turned to frustration. “You’re wrong about that,” he barked back. “And because you have no fucking clue, I won’t waste any time explaining it.”

“Fine,” I huffed. “Go get wasted and fuck someone else. Enjoy your rock star life. Goodbye, Chris.”

Chris sighed as if he knew I’d never understand. “Whatever, Salem,” he said quietly, withholding something. I couldn’t tell if it was anger, regret, or sadness.

I ended the call and clutched the phone to me as heaving sobs stole my breath.

“Dammit!” I yelled, throwing the phone with all my might against the sofa. I paced the floor, back and forth, cursing under my breath.
You potentially lost one of the most amazing women you’ve ever known over a one-night-fucking-stand! Dumbass!

“Why the
hell
did I do something so
stupid
?!” I screamed, punching the wall. Then I crumbled, falling to my knees and burying my face in my hands. That’s when the tears came. Cries of remorse and frustration escaped me, and I was bombarded by the self-loathing that always happened after I fucked things up royally.

This is all my fault. I do this. Every. Damn. Time.

No matter how hard I tried, I always managed to screw things up for myself. Just when things were going great and starting to look up for me, I always fell into this self-sabotaging bullshit and did something stupid to ruin it all. Half the time, I didn’t even realize what was happening until it was over. I was always blinded by my impulses, and I didn’t know how to overcome them.

I thought about how I got myself thrown into juvie the first time. I’d finally moved to a school where I actually fit in. And what the hell did I do? Something idiotic that caused me to lose all that. Then I met Kaitlyn. And rather than handle the situation with Trevor the way it should have been dealt with, by alerting the authorities, I beat the shit out of him and threatened to slit his throat. He deserved it, of course, but I landed myself right back at Fairbanks and ultimately lost Kaitlyn forever.

And here I was again, finally opening myself up and letting myself find love again, and what did I do? Fucked everything up, just like I’ve always done. Just when I found someone who made me feel alive again, I had to go and hook up with some chick who meant absolutely nothing to me.

Why? Why do I always screw everything up!

How would I ever get Salem to forgive me? I should have known better. Covering my face with my hands, I plopped down on the sofa. Taking a few cleansing breaths, I tried desperately to recall everything that had happened that night.

What the hell was I thinking?

That’s just it. I wasn’t thinking. I was so messed up…

“Time to get wasted, bro,” Tommy said, cracking open a can of beer.

We’d been on the road for weeks. Four cities in six nights. I was exhausted. I needed the break.

“Hell yeah!” I said, twisting the top off of a bottle of Jager.

Jeremy downed his own shot of Gentleman Jack. “Later, we’ll hit the club.”

“Lotsa bitches gonna freak when they see us tonight,” Tommy said with a wink.

I chuckled. “Yeah,” I said, although I could hear the uneasiness in my own voice.

I didn’t want to sound like a pansy, but damn, I missed Salem something fierce. I threw back a shot of Jager, the best soothing agent for a weary heart.

Four shots and three Jager bombs later, my mind was spinning and I was thoroughly numb to the ache of missing Salem.

“How goes it for a little white widow?” Tommy dangled the baggie of weed in front of me, taunting me.

Everything inside of me screamed ‘No!’ while I took the bag from him and smiled. “Damn, Preacher, you got the hook up!” I hadn’t smoked it in years, but I knew good weed when I saw it, especially when I opened the bag and took a whiff. Damn, that was some good shit.

Many puffs later, I was flying high.

And somehow we made it to the club.

Tommy was right. Girls were all over us.

“Oh my god, it’s Chris King!” I think I heard that at least a thousand times. On any other day, their high-pitched squeals would have gotten on my nerves, but I was too stoned to care. I hadn’t been that fucked up since high school. We were offered body shots all night, which we gladly accepted.

I was sitting down when a beautiful, blonde bombshell plopped down on my lap, straddling me. “Hey baby,” she cooed into my ear. “I’m Jill, your biggest fan.”

All I saw was her cleavage in my face while the world spun around me. The scent of her perfume was fucking sensational.

Damn, I missed Salem. The softness of her hair on my face. The subtle hint of vanilla on her skin. I closed my eyes, remembering that amazing night when we made love in her bed. She’s got me so messed up inside. One minute I’d be thinking about juvie and how she was there for me through it all, how she came through the door that night I fucking lost it and sat on the floor with me until I pulled myself together, how she gave me that guitar and told me she believed in me, how she hugged me on the sidewalk the day I walked away… how all I ever wanted to do was make her proud. And the next minute I’d be thinking about the way she’d smile at me when she tucked that same damn strand of hair behind her ear, the way she’d spent all afternoon teaching herself to make biscuits from scratch just to please me… the way she’d looked at me the night I made her lose control underneath me. My heart was a fucking mess.

Jessica’s… I mean… shit, what was her name again? Anyway, that chick’s mouth was on my neck, jarring me from my thoughts.

“You’re so sexy,” she whispered against my skin.

Adrenaline pumped through my body and resonated in my cock. I couldn’t stop the response my body gave her.

Jennifer—ugh, whatever—grinded against me, teasing me with her tongue on my neck.

Fuck… It’d been too long.

Tommy sat down beside us, pulling the girl he’d been dancing with onto his lap. “Hell yeah, bro,” he said, glancing at ‘what’s her name’ as if I needed his approval.

He slammed two bottles of Yuengling on the table and slid one in my direction. I grabbed the beer, guzzling it in just a few big gulps.

The chick brushed her lips against mine. “Nothing sexier than beer breath on a man,” she purred.

Deep down I knew better, but the alcohol that ran in my veins and the THC that clouded my mind gave me a serious case of ‘fuck-it-all-itis.’ I gave into the loneliness. I gave into my need to feel close to someone. I gave in to the temptation of a sexy woman who was sitting on my lap, kissing my lips, and grinding against my growing erection. I gave into my animalistic desires. I gave into the lifestyle I’d lived for the past few years.

Before I knew it, I woke up the next morning with a miserable groan escaping my throat. The throbbing pain in my head reminded me of the massive amount of alcohol I’d consumed the night before. It took me a minute to get my bearings.

That’s when I heard the sweet sigh of a female lying next to me. Fuck! I didn’t even remember her name!

She rolled over in my direction, yawning. “Mornin’,” she said softly, smiling at me like she knew a secret.

The blonde hair that I remembered from the night before was actually a mousy brown rat’s nest piled against the pillow. Those sexy red lips and those long black eyelashes were replaced by streaks of red around her mouth and smears of black around her eyes. Shit, what have I done? And that morning breath… Jesus!

I slipped out of bed and jerked my pants off the floor. Yanking my jeans up onto my hips, I quickly made my escape into the bathroom.

Leaning against the wall, I grasped the sides of my head to alleviate the pounding headache of my crippling hangover.

You dumbass, I chided myself. You never deserved a woman like Salem.

“Chris,” the chick called from my bed. “You okay?”

“Uhhh.” I stalled for time, staring at myself in the mirror. You idiot, I growled at my reflection.

Finishing up, I swung open the door. “No, sorry,” I said quickly, rummaging around for my shirt, my wallet, and my shoes. “I gotta get outta here. Here’s money for a cab.” I tossed a wad of cash in her direction.

She looked blankly at the bills lying on the mattress beside her. “So, that’s that, huh?” she asked.

“Sorry,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. I paced the floors, trying desperately to remember what had happened with her last night.

I’d remembered kissing her… taking my jeans off and getting into bed with her… her straddling me…

And then it fucking dawned on me…

“Aw shit,” I said with a groan, sinking down onto the bed next to her. “Did I really cry in front of you last night?”

She chuckled, clearly enjoying my humiliation. Propping herself up on one elbow, she teased, “Only until you passed out.”

“Oh god, I thought so.” I mumbled holding my head in my hands. “So, we didn’t… well—”

She threw her head back, cackling, “Hardly. I spent the night dealin’ with your cryin’ ass.”

“I’m sorry,” I moaned into my palms as I buried my face in my hands.

She sat up beside me, giving me a friendly kiss on the shoulder. “No worries,” she assured me. “It’s all good. Pretty epic, actually. After all, who knew the rock god, Chris King, was such a sap? Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.” She nudged me playfully.

I breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks… uh…” I didn’t even know what to call her.

“It’s Jill,” she said, sounding a little hurt by my alcohol-induced memory loss.

“Thanks, Jill. I appreciate it. I’m really sorry.”

Instantly forgiving me, she smiled and ruffled my hair with her hand. “You’re somethin’ else,” her sweet voice teased.

I glanced at her, trying to ignore her slightly desperate, idolizing gaze. I think, deep down, she still hoped for a chance. I felt guilty, but relieved.

“Take care, Jill. And thanks for understanding.” I patted her shoulder, hoping she’d forgive my hasty departure and rushed out the door to escape my almost-and-still-might-be biggest mistake.

After several days, a few cases of beer, and my desperate attempts at forgetting this ever happened, I finally managed to find the courage to text Salem for the first time after she basically told me to fuck off. I figured I had a snowball’s chance in hell to make things right, but I knew I at least needed to try.

I couldn’t even explain how hopelessly devastated I felt. Learning of the infidelity in my marriage sucker-punched me in the gut and wounded my soul, so hearing the truth from Chris brought back the pain all over again. I was beginning to think something was wrong with me.
Why do I always seem to drive men into the arms of other women?