Where Words Fail (30 page)

My heart began to race. I could barely think about anything other than the fact that Tuesday thinks Abby remembers me. I started to panic, but not the kind of panic like when I started on tour, and I wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or not. I wanted her to remember me.

I jumped up and started throwing my shit in my bag and searching for a shirt at the same time. When I turned around Tuesday was staring at me. Humor replaced the serious look in her eyes.

“What are you doing?” She asked.

“We’re going home. I’m going to make this better... Make her happy again. I can’t handle her looking like she did on the video, Tuesday.”

“Hey, Jameson,” she called as I headed towards the bathroom to grab the rest of my stuff. “It took a lot of convincing and she wouldn’t get out... But...”

“But what, Tuesday. Spit it out.”

“She’s in my car.”

I dropped everything in my hands and let it scatter across the floor. Taking four large steps towards her, I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her cheek. I asked her to stay put for a minute, so I could go talk to Abby. Her eyes nervously glanced towards Evan and back to me, but she agreed.

I turned towards Evan. “No means no, Ev. Touch her and I’ll beat you.”

“Oh, that’s what no means? I’ve never heard it before so I didn’t know.” Tuesday chuckled but covered it up with a cough.

I bolted my way down the stairs and searched for Tuesday’s car.

Abby

I didn’t know it would hurt so badly. When I told him to leave I was mad. I didn’t know who he was, and he had pissed me off by carrying me out of the bar flopped over his shoulder like a child. I went home after I pulled myself together.

If what I have been this past week is what you’d consider pulled together anyway.

It wasn’t. I knew that. I was a walking mess. I wasn’t sleeping. I was pissing everyone off because I was miserable. I spent my entire day sitting at the piano. I haven’t played piano since I was eight. My mom taught me how and when my parents died, my love for piano went with them. Until that night.

As soon as he got in his truck, after smashing out the window, I knew I had done something wrong. My heart crumbled. Why would it do that if he wasn’t worth it?

Tuesday handed me a note from him as soon as I got home. I crumpled it up in my hand and walked to my bedroom before reading it. It was the name of a song. I instantly pulled up YouTube and searched for it.

It made me cry. It made me want to find him and tell him I was wrong, that I was sorry, and I didn’t really mean to tell him to leave.

I ran to the barn and straight to the door to his apartment but when I knocked on the door, nobody answered. I pushed my way in. It was empty. His clothes had been packed. Everything that reminded me of him was gone. Everything except the smell of him. I crawled onto the bed and stayed there for a few hours, just breathing in what was left of him.

I felt pitiful. It was after all, my fault for him leaving.

The next morning I pulled myself from bed and trudged downstairs, and eyed the piano that was only played by Alex and Izzy. It haunted me. Telling me I couldn’t do it. That I wasn’t good enough. No matter how hard I tried I was going to end up alone and lonely.

Even in my depressed state I was hell-bent on not ending up that way. I sat on the bench, my fingers running over the cool ivory keys. Not pressing down, but remembering how it used to feel when my mother would play with me. We spent so much time behind this very piano. She wouldn’t want me like this.

Before I knew it, a melody was running through my head, the words not far behind. I still didn’t know who he was, but I knew what he was. He was it, and I had thrown that away. I spent the rest of the week in the same spot. If I wasn’t playing, I was spacing out.

It wasn’t until today that anyone actually did anything to get me away from it. Tuesday walked in with a goal in mind a few hours ago and dragged me away from my perch. She tossed me in the shower and when I wouldn’t cooperate with washing myself, she did it for me. She was mindful of my still healing injuries but not at all happy.

She pulled me to the car, buckled me in and told me not to argue. I didn’t. I honestly didn’t care where we were going. I could space out anywhere. She pulled into a brick apartment complex and asked me if I wanted to come in. I just shook my head. That was the most I’ve communicated with her since the night he left.

I’m pretty sure I figured some shit out this morning. Something about the way he left me a song title hit hard. I knew it had happened before. When I played the song I wrote this morning, it finally hit me. I was in love with him. We were together. But who is he?

I, then, thought back to what he said at the bar about what I was drinking. Yeah, it wasn’t what I usually drank when I ran off... I read the label over and over again in my head.

“Jameson...” I whispered to myself. “Jameson.” I repeated. Just then, I thought I was going to have a panic attack, because I had sent the one person, who I told to never leave again, away. It was my fault.

My door flew open and he dropped to the ground on his knees next to the car. His face took my breath away. His hair was wet and he was clean shaven, he wasn’t wearing a shirt and my hands itched to reach out and touch him, to trace the edges of his tattoos. But I didn’t dare to.

“Abby-” His voice cracked.

I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, so I just stared. He hesitantly reached over to unbuckle me. Approaching me like he would a wounded animal. My eyes followed his hand, but I didn’t make a move to stop him. I didn’t want to stop him. The sound of the belt winding back and his breathing filled my ears. Shallow and quick.

I felt the tears running down my face before I even knew I was crying. When he reached up and touched my face to wipe them away I lost it. My arms flew around him and locked behind his neck. Jameson pulled me to him and fell back till his back hit the door. He slid me out of the car till I was on his lap, my legs still partially in the car.

“I-I’m... So... S-s-sorry...” I sobbed into his chest. My fingers were digging into his skin trying to get him closer to me as my tears streaked down his chest.

“Shhh, Abby it’s ok.”

“N-no it’s not!”

He placed his hands on either side of my face and pulled me back till he could see my eyes.

“Do you remember my name yet?” He asked.

I nodded. “I figured it out right before you opened the door.” I felt his body relax a bit before he spoke again.

“Do you love me even though I left again?”

“I told you to go and you left me with that song. You made me realize what we have is always worth the fight. I’ve loved you since the first time you saved me. You’re always saving me. So you didn’t really leave.”

His lips hit mine with so much passion that I cried harder. The saltiness mixing with the flavor of Jameson’s tongue against mine. He invaded my senses and held me captive as he assaulted my mouth. My hands crept up and inched into his hair, tangling my fingers through it, and he grabbed my hips and lifted until my legs fell from the car, and I straddled him.

The back of my shirt lifted and his hands slid up, stopping just below the clasp of my bra. The warmth of his skin on mine made me feel like I was overheating. I just wanted to be pure skin on skin with him.

“Can I come home now?” He asked when our lips finally broke apart.

I struggled to catch my breath. “I’ll beg you if I need to.”

“Ahem...” We both jumped and turned towards the door to the apartment building. Tuesday was standing there with her arms crossed over her chest. Next to her was a guy covered in tattoos. His head was shaved and his blue eyes shining in the sun.

“You guys do realize that
People
probably just got their next magazine cover right?” Tuesday joked.

“Shit,” Jameson cursed.

I chuckled, wiping tears off my face. “Eh... Whatever. They were going to figure it out sooner or later. It’s a good thing we stopped when we did isn’t it?”

Jameson stood up with me still straddling him. When I tried to drop to my legs his hands gripped the back of my thighs and pulled me back up. “I’m not letting you go so don’t even try getting down yet.”

I settled my face into his neck. Breathing in the scent that I’ve missed so much over the past week. “Fine by me but driving is going to be hard with me on your lap.” I hooked my ankles together behind his back. He kissed the shell of my ear.

“Babe, everything is hard when you’re on my lap.”
Oh my...

“Hey Jameson. Does this mean I get my couch back?” The guy asked.

“Who’s that?” I whispered in Jameson’s ear.

“Oh crap. I forgot you guys hadn’t met. Abby, this is my brother Evan. Evan this is Abby and you’ve already met Tuesday.”

“Oh your brother Evan, the tattoo artist... Right?”

“Right and yes I’ve
definitely
met Tuesday, but it’s great to meet you too Abby.” I’m not sure what he meant by the way he said definitely, but it made Tuesday look nervous. I’m not sure I’ve ever really seen Tuesday nervous. Weird. I shook his outstretched hand and hooked it back behind Jameson’s neck.

We gathered up Jameson’s stuff and put it in the back of his truck. It was a pretty big task that involved a lot of laughing because he still wouldn’t put me down. I made an appointment with Evan for some new ink. It had been a long time since I had something new done, and I had the perfect idea.

Driving home was hard. Jameson didn’t want to put me down but we came to the agreement that I couldn’t ride home on his lap. Try explaining that to the officer that was bound to pull us over for it. So he settled for having me against him in the middle. Every inch of the left side of my body was pressed against the right side of him. Fingers intertwined, my head resting on his shoulder.

I don’t think we made it more than two miles before he pulled over to kiss me. Every few minutes he would do the same thing. Pull over, kiss me for a few minutes, tell me he loves me and then start over again. It was a long drive home, but I didn’t mind.
 

Abby

My back slams up against the rough wood of my door before I even get the chance to think about what is happening. Jameson’s hands are everywhere, like he can’t touch enough of me to be satisfied. My arms circle around his neck trying to get myself closer to him. This difference in height is going to irritate me if I can’t get close enough to kiss him.

As if he was reading my mind, or maybe I had an irritated look on my face, he dropped his forehead to mine. One hand ran through my hair until he reached the tips and pulled. I whimpered as my head fell back and he attacked my mouth. Our tongues rolling against each other.

I pushed on his shoulders to make him step back. He glared at me like I had just taken his favorite toy away. His breath coming in short bursts. I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth and smiled sweetly at him.

“Shirt off,” I stated.

“So bossy...”

“Damn straight.” I tried to keep a straight face but ended up laughing when his hips started gyrating to some tune in his head.

Jameson backed up and reached one hand behind his neck, grabbing his shirt and slowly pulled it over his head. My laughter died out because it was sexy as hell to watch his muscles flex and stretch as he moved. I couldn’t help but run my eyes over every contour on his abs and chest.

The colors of his tattoos stood out against his tan skin. His fingers traced over the bumps in his abs as he continued to move his body like a male stripper. When he reached the button of his jeans the corner of his mouth lifted and he winked at me. I covered my mouth to suppress my laughter.

When he popped the button and reached for the zipper he stopped moving. My breath hitched in my lungs and the room was silent. I heard every click as the teeth released slowly. The edges of his pants folded open to expose his gray boxer briefs. He started to tug his jeans down but stopped.

“Somehow I just don’t feel like this is fair.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. My voice was more of a whisper.

“Well... Let’s see.” He looked down at his body then over to me. His gaze raking over every inch of me. “If I take my pants off I’ll be almost naked.”