Bent not Broken (363 page)

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.

Chapter Twenty-Five

SALEM

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?

I had an ache in my chest that never let up. The fissure in my heart grew bigger and bigger with each passing day. It would only be a matter of time before my battered heart would splinter and shatter into a million pieces; I’d been trying to convince myself that it hadn’t done that already.

I found it difficult to breathe most days, and found it tough to do even the simplest of tasks. I would curl up in my bed at night, trying to forget him—trying to go to sleep without him creeping up in my dreams. Without fail, I’d fall asleep and he’d be standing there, holding his arms out to me while I fought the urge to run into them.

Several days had passed. I was standing in my office, mindlessly filing paperwork, numbly going through the motions when got the first text.

Chris: I’m so sorry, Salem. Please let me explain.

Did he honestly think he could
explain
his way out of fucking another girl? I deleted the text, grabbed my notebook off my desk, and walked down the hall toward my next intake interview, trying to remember how to put one foot in front of the other.

It was only a few short hours before I received another text.

Chris: Look, I know I don’t deserve it, but please just give me a chance. Hear me out. Please.

Just seeing his name pop up on my screen messed with my head, so I deleted that text while I tried to convince myself that I didn’t need him in my life.

I was folding laundry in my bedroom, waiting for Alexis to call me to come pick her up from Olivia’s house, when the ringtone that almost brought me to my knees blared from my cell phone. I may have been a glutton for punishment, but after our trip to New York, I’d assigned Chris’s ringtone as “Broken” by Seether. The words of the song reminded me so much of our history, when all I wanted to do was take away his pain as a teenager, and then years later, while he was gone on tour, how broken and lonely I felt without him. I quickly swiped my finger across the screen to ignore the call, not only because I couldn’t bear to talk to him, but because the words of the song sliced through my heart like a hot knife on butter.

Within seconds another text popped up from Chris.

Chris: I understand why you won’t answer my call. I deserve it, but for the record, I’ll never give up. And for what it’s worth, I’m truly fucking sorry. I hope someday you can find it in your heart to forgive me. I just wish you’d give me a chance to explain.

I stared at the text a few extra seconds longer than the last one before I hit delete again. For a brief moment, I considered forgiving him. But was he sorry for what he did, or was he just sorry he got caught? I couldn’t believe I was even debating it. According to the oh-so-obvious pictures from the tabloids, he slept with one of his groupies, a skank who flung herself at him like an easy lay
. He’s not the man you thought he was.
He’s just another rock star playboy…exactly like the tabloids had him pegged.

I stomped into the bathroom, tapping my foot anxiously while I stared at my miserable reflection in the mirror. I needed to do something to get my mind off of things.
Screw it, I’m going out
, I told myself.

Alexis was spending the night at her dad’s, and I had nothing tying me down at home. I called up a girlfriend of mine that I hadn’t seen in months. That was one thing I loved about her. We could go months without talking to each other, but pick right back up where we left off as if not a day had passed. Those were the best kinds of friendships.

“Paige, you think you could ditch the family for a night and have a girl’s night out?”

“When? Tonight?” she asked in her sweet, southern drawl.

I felt almost manic, eager to pick up and leave my anger and bitter disappointment behind. “Yeah. Alexis is spending the night at her dad’s, and I could really use a friend and a drink. Whaddya say?”

“Sure, let me tell Jay,” she said. Then clamping her hand on the microphone to muffle the sound, she yelled, “Jay, I’m gonna go out with Salem tonight, okay? I’ll be home late. You can handle baths and bed, right?” Her voice rang clear again and she confirmed, “Okay, I’ll swing by your house around nine. Wanna hit up The Cellar or Harvest Moon?”

It took me two seconds to decide. “Let’s do The Cellar. And nine sounds great. That will give me time to grab a quick shower.”

So that was that. I grabbed a shower and slipped into the shortest, tightest dress I could find packed away in the back of my closet—something I wore in my younger days that could really turn some heads.

Paige arrived at nine o’clock on the dot. That’s one thing I never had to worry about with her. She was always precisely on time. I always laughed and chalked it up to her obsessive compulsive nature. She claimed it was just a matter of respect.

“Girl, you have no idea how much I need this night,” I told her, hopping into her Suburban.

She swept her blonde bangs out of her face, tucking them behind her ear. “Why? What’s up? Graham?” she asked, glancing at me with her sympathetic, brown eyes.

The mere mention of my ex-husband made bile rise in my throat. “Yeah, Graham. Life. Chris. You name it.”

“Chris?” She frowned at me with one perfectly plucked eyebrow raised. “Chris who? Do I know him?”

Shit! She hasn’t seen the media ramblings yet. I shouldn’t have said anything.

I waved her off. “No, just some random dude I had one date with. Haven’t heard from him since. Kinda gives a blow to the ego, you know?”

“I hear ya, girl. Well, let’s go out and drink that memory away!” She pumped a delicate fist in the air and shook her hips in the driver’s seat.

I laughed at her, remembering all over again why I loved her. “Sounds like a plan,” I said.

We blasted the radio all the way to the bar, singing and dancing in our seats like we were a couple of teenagers. But when we walked into The Cellar, I suddenly felt completely out of my element. The Cellar wasn’t a college hang out, by any means, but it certainly wasn’t for nearly forty year olds either. I felt like a fish out of water.

Paige must have noticed my insecurity because she whispered, “Don’t be intimidated. You’re as hot as any of those twenty-five year olds sitting over there. Hold your chin up, and let’s go find us a hottie to buy you a drink.”

I laughed. Leave it to Paige to calm my nerves. She grabbed my hand and led me toward the bar. The music was thumping and strobe lights were flashing on the small dance floor at the back of the building. I felt awkward as I pushed past the group of twenty-somethings to get to the edge of the bar where the bartender was serving.

“What’ll it be?” he asked. He leaned on the bar, exposing his sculpted biceps sleeved with colorful tattoos.

“Um…” my mind went blank. I couldn’t think. I hadn’t been to a bar in ages.

Paige piped up, “She’ll have a Sex on the Beach.” She pointed a perfectly French-manicured finger at me. “I’ll have a Long Island Iced Tea.” She gave the bartender a flirty grin.

“You got it,” the bartender nodded and quickly began mixing and squirting liquids so fast I could barely keep up.

“Thanks,” I said to Paige. “I don’t know what came over me. I just feel so out of my element.” I felt a little guilty that I couldn’t tell her the whole truth. Through the years, we’d grown pretty close. She was a secretary for the vice president of the investment bank where Graham worked, and she’d seen my marriage come to a screeching halt the day I’d found out he was cheating on me. She’d been there to wipe my tears on numerous occasions, but I just didn’t feel like turning this fun girl’s night out into another sob-fest.

She shot me a look. “Girl, you better get into your element fast because you’ve got some baby blues staring at you.” She pointed one long finger to my right, mouthing, “Three o’clock.”

I glanced to the direction she was pointing and saw exactly to what she was talking about. A pair of crystal clear, aquamarine eyes stared directly at me. And the face attached to those eyes was pretty easy to look at too. His nearly black hair was gelled up in a sexy, hot mess. He looked like he could have stepped right out of a cover model photo shoot. The sleeves of his plaid button-up shirt were rolled up to the elbows, exposing the thick brown leather band of his watch. He caught my gaze, and quickly nodded once in acknowledgement. The corner of his mouth tugged up into a half grin. Everything about him and those deep blue eyes exuded sexy.

I whipped my head back around to Paige. “Oh my god, Paige, that guy can’t be over what? Twenty-six?” I tried to hide my grimace.
I can’t do this. These men are babies.

Paige shrugged her shoulders. “So? Girl, he’s so busy making eyes at you that he obviously doesn’t care. Age is just a number. Stop worrying,” she whined.

Just then, the bartender placed the drinks in front of us. “Here you are, ladies,” he said with a smile.

Paige handed him her credit card. “Thanks. Go ahead and start a tab.”

“I will, but these drinks are courtesy of that guy over there,” the bartender said with a quick nod in the cover model’s direction and then shot us a grin. “Better watch ol’ Blue. He’s a lady killer.”

“Humph.” Paige put her hand on her hip with attitude. “We ain’t afraid of no stinkin’ kid.” She nudged me with her elbow. “Right, Salem?”