Chasing Kane (13 page)

And, Georgia and I never really talked about kids before we got married. Nothing negative or positive to say about it—it just didn’t come up.

How did it not come up?

Taking a deep breath, I rolled to my side, draped my arm over Georgia, and kissed her shoulder. I couldn’t fool myself into thinking that I’d figure out the parenting thing once I was a parent. I knew too many screwed up families to take this as anything less than seriously. But I needed to figure out exactly what the hell I was feeling before it was too late.

My tongue felt like it was swelling as the anxiety worked its way into my throat. People divorced over this—miscommunication of life goals and dreams. If I got to a place where I was certain I
didn’t
want kids, would that non-desire be strong enough to risk losing Georgia over? The last thing I wanted for either of us was to end up in a resentment-filled relationship around a child who didn’t ask to be born in the first place.

I couldn’t think about this now, and Georgia wasn’t in town for long enough to justify me bringing this up in the next several hours. Instead, I let the rhythm of her soft breath lull me back to sleep.

“What?” I asked a fired up looking Georgia as she stood in the doorway of my hotel room.

Truth be told, that was an unfair assessment of her look. She always looked fired up in one way or another. This morning, though, the comic gleam in her eye relaxed me.

“Anyone in here?” she exaggerated craning her neck to try to peer around the door.

“For your information, no,” I answered, rather proudly. Which was odd.

“Good. Dress yourself and come with me. Unless you want to walk the streets in your boxer briefs?” Her eyes didn’t move from my face as she talked, which was rare for women in my half-naked presence. Georgia and I almost dated for like half a second in high school before settling into the friendship roles we were much more comfortable in.

Still, I gestured to my body for good measure. “What? You don’t want a piece of this?”

She snorted with her trademark genuine and berating amusement. “As if.”

“My cousin may be your husband, but I could bench-press four of him without breaking a sweat.”

She rolled her eyes. “And he could out-romance four of you before breakfast. Get dressed and meet me in the lobby.”

I playfully smacked her round bottom with the back of my hand as she turned to walk away. This earned me both a yelp and the middle finger.

We were marching toward the coffee shop in the damp morning fog when Georgia killed my decent mood. “I’ve been thinking about you and Frankie.”

I growled, rolling my eyes and my head back. “Why,” I said, long and exaggerated.

“About how it’s none of my damn business.”

I nearly tripped over my Doc Martins. This was a startling and suspicious development—interfering was Georgia’s
thing
.

I furrowed my brow at her, and resumed my pace. “What tricks are you up to?”

Georgia adjusted the red bandana around her almost white blonde hair and eyed me cautiously. “It’s not,” she repeated. “We’ve known each other for so long that I forget we’re not two banged-up hooligans hanging at my dad’s bar in Provincetown anymore. We’re adults, God help us, and you deserve to be treated like one. So, if you say your relationship with Frankie is over, then that’s it. I can’t decide otherwise for you, as much as I like her and what she used to bring out in you.”

My stomach dropped a little. “Okay …” I finally said.

“But know this,” Georgia continued, waving her index finger in front of my face. “Frankie and I have developed a nice little relationship apart from you that I want to maintain if she wants to.”

“Of course,” I answered quickly. “Why wouldn’t she want to?”

“Maybe it would keep the wound a little too fresh, having me around. She might just want a fresh start, away from the hurt.”

It felt like the sidewalk slid away from underneath me as we reached the door of
Grind
, a small coffee shop recommended by the locals. I’d told Georgia and them that I’d let Frankie go—giving the illusion that I’d dumped her. Letting her go wasn’t a total lie. She drove me to the airport the day I left for San Diego, which was decent of her all things considered. I
was
sorry at that point for everything that’d happened the week before, but she didn’t want to talk anymore. Frankly, neither did I. So, I did let her go, once she asked me through tears to stop staring at her
that way
before I got out of the car and onto the plane.

I’d become someone—something—I never thought I’d wanted to be. I still managed to hurt someone even after working hard to make sure I didn’t. I thought I’d given my all over the last three years, but she wanted more and I panicked. And, in turn acted like the ass she didn’t deserve
.

I was never good at long-term relationships because I’m not a long-term kind of guy.

Frankie didn’t stand a chance when it came to my uncanny ability to self-destruct.

So why do I feel like shit?

“Hello?” Georgia snapped her fingers in front of my face. “Anything to say for yourself, player?”

But she dumped me …

I shrugged, plastering on the most apathetic face I could. “What do you want me to say, G?”

Her bright blue eyes stared into mine curiously, as if in disbelief. “Nothing, I guess,” she finally said. “I just … I thought she was going to be, like,
the one
for you.” Easily, Georgia slid back into pure friend mode. One where she was less girly and more tolerant of my “bullshit ways,” as she always put it.

“Can we just get some fuckin’ coffee? I’d also like a cigarette, so can we sit outside?”

She rolled her eyes, nodding. “I’ll get your usual. Large, three creams, six sugars, and some insulin.” She winked after reciting my guilty pleasure order and turned for the counter.

Once alone on the sidewalk, I put the end of the cigarette in my mouth, clicked the lighter, and took one deep, long, slow drag. And forced myself not to cough. I hadn’t smoked regularly in over two years, save for a few now and again on weekends. Frankie hated the taste; said she didn’t like feeling like she was licking an ashtray.

Well, screw her …

When I blinked I saw Frankie in her bed—one I’d stayed in almost every night for two years. And I saw
her
. To-die-for curves I grabbed onto every chance I got, delicious nipples, and that
mouth
…

I quickly shook the thoughts from my mind. She’s the one who ended it. Not that I begged her not to. I wasn’t equipped with begging skills or desire, which let Frankie slip right through my fingers.

As soon as Georgia returned, rolling her eyes at my nicotine habit, I took a swig of hot, sweet coffee and stared into the tree line in the distance.

I took one more long drag before saying anything as I exhaled. “You know she dumped me, don’t you …”

She was quiet for a second, then sighed. “Yes.”

“Why aren’t you consoling me then?” I asked, only half-kidding.

“Because I don’t blame her,” Georgia answered, flatly if not a little reluctant. “It was a long time coming.”

“Fuck you?” I said it like a question to lessen the sting.

She shrugged, unaffected by my crassness. “What the hell, CJ? You wanted a six-month free pass, for fuck’s sake. This isn’t high school, or even college, anymore. She’s ready for the next phase. One that, at one point, probably included a life with you. And you didn’t give a damn.”

Now I was angry. “Didn’t give a damn?” I snapped. “Didn’t give a damn. Interesting. I sure as hell gave a damn when I entered into the relationship, didn’t I? And gave a damn when I brought up to her us moving in together, too, I’d say. You might be interested to know she shot down that idea.”

Unaffected, still, by my tantrum, Georgia looked up at me. “When did you ask her to move in together?”

“A year or more ago, I guess. What? Your new BFF didn’t tell you that?”

“Grow up.” Georgia’s face turned sour. “
You
didn’t tell me that.”

“She said she wasn’t ready then. What else did she need? We’d been together for more than a year by then.” I shook my head, taking the last drag of my cigarette, stomping it out, and lighting another one.

“Easy there, Marlboro Man. Don’t you think she wanted something a little more than a roommate with benefits who probably wouldn’t sleep around?”

“And, to set the
fucking
record straight, I never
asked
for a pass on anything. I just wanted to talk about
where we were
before I left.”

Georgia leaned forward, holding her head between her hands. “Do you have any idea how heartbreaking that had to be for her to hear? Her boyfriend of three years asking
where are we?
”

I sucked hard on the cigarette. “For the last three years I’ve done nothing but be a better person for her. I didn’t sleep around with other girls. Not once. And don’t do much more than a wink or a flirt here and there—and even
that’s
when I’m performing. You know, persona.” She nodded, understanding, and I continued. “I spent less time smoking and more time eating right and working out. I focused on computer stuff for a while; taking an interest in the companies I have stock in. For fuck’s sake, Georgia, she was like the
only
person besides you and Regan to know about that social media app, and all the money that went with it. I gave her everything I had in me.”

“For her sake or yours? And, don’t assume sex is the only rotten thing anyone can do. She’s not an idiot. You had a bumpy first year.”

“But it got better,” I countered.

Georgia shrugged. “Sure, but what did you do to repair the trust? It’s not enough to just not cut any fresh wounds if you don’t treat the old ones. Were you behaving like a grownup or trying to get by on your charm? Also, would you have done all that self-improvement stuff if she wasn’t around? Or is it
not you
? Do you think it was an improvement? Or did you just lead a girl on for almost three years, giving her what you thought
she
wanted until you pulled the rug out from under her?” Georgia snatched the cigarette from my lips and took a drag.

“What the fuck are you talking about? I was growing as a person, Georgia. Isn’t that what adults are supposed to do? Who cares why or how I started.” I leaned down, getting eye to eye with her. “I
loved
her. And she
dumped
me.”

Standing on her tiptoes, Georgia wasn’t about to be intimidated by me—not that I wanted her to be. “I bet it made you feel good to get all that attention from Frankie. A woman who put you first above all other men so easily. That work you did wasn’t for
you.
It was just for her, which is why you felt like a caged animal and got the taste of excitement when this tour came up. She didn’t get the
real
you, one who could have made changes because he wanted to, when he was ready.”

“I loved her,” I repeated, turning back for the hotel.

“I just think you’re scared to grow up, CJ.” Georgia chased after me. Breaking into a jog as my long legs covered more ground than her short ones could. “A life long Lost Boy who escaped Neverland, got his tongue pierced, and found himself a pair of sticks. I think you did love her. Maybe some of those changes
were
genuine, but after a while you got hot under the collar and instead of running to the woman who’s stood by you for three years, working it out with her, you bailed. A
man
doesn’t
bail
CJ.”

I stopped, catching her surprised face as I turned around. “It’s that easy, huh? Ask my mom, Georgia, because that’s the example I’ve got. My dad
was a
good guy
. She thought. Then he up and left over
fucking
night and started a new family in Long Island without so much as a look backward. Out of
nowhere!
”

Georgia and I hadn’t talked about my dad in years. I hardly talked about him with anyone—even Frankie got the barest bones of the story. There was no risk of having my mom or anyone else in my family bring him up because he torched every bridge he could on his way out of town and the wounds never stopped seeping. No one talked about him with anything but their eyes in a passing glance here or there.

“CJ,” Georgia said, dropping her arms and sinking her shoulders. “You’re
not
him. You know that.”

“Do I?” I hissed, turning to punch the wall of the closest storefront. It was brick, so I thought better of it and put my hand down.

Georgia put her hand over my forearm. “CJ …”

“They were high school sweethearts, Georgia. And overnight, when I was too young to know what the
fuck
was going on … he was gone. That’s what love and commitment got my mom. Abandonment.”

“He didn’t love her,” she said, taking a step back when my head whipped toward her. “Because real love doesn’t allow for that. She tried to love him enough for the both of them, and it didn’t work. But she
did
love you enough for the both of them.”

I was pissed after listening to her assault my character for the last several minutes. Accusing me of still being the boy she met in her dad’s bar more than fifteen years ago when she knew better. She’d seen me go through more shit than I’d let anyone else see. She watched me changed. She was hitting below the belt and I’d had it.

“Let’s talk about you for a minute. We both come from broken-ass backgrounds and trusted no one for years.”

She shrugged. “Until Regan. He’s it for me.

“Hmm,” I started, intentionally sounding like the biggest ass I could. “Seems interesting, then, that you’re already popping up on this tour more than you ever have before. Before we even left California you were at like
every
show. Is it because you’re afraid that now I’m a
free man,
I’ll rub off on him, and you’re worried he’ll notice Yardley’s tits for once? Or are you just ovulating?”

Georgia’s mouth dropped, her eyes wide, but I cut her off. “Yeah, Regan told me you guys want kids. But, answer me this? Do you
honestly
think a baby will make things easier? Yeah, kids are
known
for smoothing out rough patches in relationships.”