Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
“He dumped me.”
“Oh.” He scratched his head in confusion. “I talked to him ten minutes ago, and he was a fucking mess. I thought it was his mom.”
“He’s worried about her for sure, but um…yeah.”
Justin furrowed his brow. “Hmph. He loves you, you know.”
“Yeah, I know, but—”
“No, I mean. He always has. I remember thinking it would have been so much easier if Tegan and I could have made it as more than friends. We never really clicked that way. And I always had a feeling it was because he was already taken. I just didn’t know it was you.”
I smiled wanly. “Sounds like a song lyric.”
He nodded. “It’s a good one. If you don’t write that down and use it, I will.”
“Got it. Why are you being nice to me?”
“ ’Cause you care about him. Maybe as much as he cares about you. I always thought it was one-sided. I didn’t know you felt the same way. He deserves better than unrequited love.”
“Ahh, poetic justice,” I huffed. “You must love this.”
“No, I don’t. I want my friend to be happy. If you’re the one who does that for him, that’s cool by me.”
“Right. What are we going to do about Xena?”
“Nothing.”
“Seriously? Is that what Charlie said?”
“No, he’s got a new social media idea involving concert footage and studio time…from the bands’ perspectives. In other words, counter with substance and music. Xena is conniving and sharp. I can see why Petra listened to her bullshit. She clings to Gypsy Coma ’cause it’s all she has. But we have to let it go. All of us. I guess I realized I’ve been hanging on to it too. And I’m ready to move on.”
“Me too.”
“Are we good? Me and you?” Justin asked, cocking his head.
“Yeah, we’re good.”
“Good. ’Cause our bands are about to skyrocket. Congratulations in advance.”
“Thanks.”
Justin clapped noisily as he moved to the door. “Cool. Go fix your mess with Tegan. He’s feeling guilty and dark and broody and a bunch of useless emotions to punish himself like it’ll make the world right. The guy isn’t even Catholic. Go figure.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not that easy.”
“Don’t be a fuckin’ pussy, McNamara. Nothing is easy. And if it is, ask yourself if it’s worth it. Adios.”
He was gone in a flash. I heard his footsteps receding, a dog barking, and the deep timbre of Gray’s voice in the distance. Then nothing. Fix it. Fix him, fix me. Talk about a daunting idea.
Almost as daunting as finding my mother sitting at my kitchen island the following morning when I got home from the gym. I hadn’t paid much attention to the Mercedes parked in front of my condo. To be honest, I wasn’t sure I would have known it was hers. Mom and Sam had a few cars. They all looked the same to me. And my mom hadn’t “popped by” to say hi in…well, ever. In fact, I couldn’t remember the last time she’d been here. It had to be after escrow closed.
“Mom?”
I set my helmet on one of the barstools and bent to kiss her cheek. She smelled like expensive perfume, and she looked like she’d stepped out of a fashion magazine. She wore a Burberry poncho with tall leather boots and well-fitted black slacks. Her blonde hair framed her face to perfection. My mom was model beautiful. No kidding. She used a few modern-day tricks to keep age at bay, but her high cheekbones, square jaw, and cat-like eyes had always turned heads.
“There you are! I’ve been worried sick. You haven’t called me back in days.”
I furrowed my brow and pulled out my cell. “You called?”
She waved a manicured hand. “No, I texted.”
“Oh. Sorry. We just finished the tour. I’ve been preoccupied.”
“Good for you.” She laid her hand over mine and pointed meaningfully at the stool beside hers. “I came to see the condo too. I’m thinking of selling it. With your help.”
Wow. I could use a fucking break.
“I’m not selling this condo. But if you want to, go for it. Let me know when I need to move out. Want something to drink?” I asked, rounding the island to pull open the fridge.
“No, thank you. Declan, darling, look at me.”
I uncapped a Gatorade and took a healthy gulp. “Hmm?”
She gave me a serious look and sighed. “It’s time to grow up.”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed. I held up my hand when she bristled indignantly. “Mom, I don’t know how to break this to you, but I am grown up. And before you give me a lecture about the joys of real estate…don’t. I’m not joining the firm. Ever. I’m in a band. I write songs, I sing, and I play guitar…or the bass, if needed. I’m really good at what I do, and I make a decent living at it.”