Collide (19 page)

I start to back away, embarrassed to be imposing on such a private moment but then the man unlatches the woman from his lips just as I turn. I catch a brief glimpse of his face and then do a double take. My heart immediately picks up speed and my insides twist.

“Zayne?” The word comes out unintentionally and causes his blue eyes to shoot in my direction. I can see the emotions as they flicker across his face. Guilt, shame, panic. But then just like that, the mask slips into place and his lips pull into a tight line.

The blonde seems to have no idea of my presence until Alec's voice causes her to swivel on her heel. I catch sight of her face for only a fraction of a second but it's enough to see that the woman is beyond beautiful. I quickly turn to face Alec, a sick feeling knotting in the pit of my stomach. I do my best to push through the emotions, mainly jealousy, seething through me and plaster on a smile.

“Gracie. What a pleasant surprise. What are you doing here?” He asks, wrapping me in a tight hug.

“I wanted to drop something off to you. Do you have a minute?” I ask, gesturing towards the hall.

“Sure, yeah.” He says, before peering over my head to speak to Zayne. “Give me five.” He says, before wrapping his arm around my shoulders and leading me into the hall.

I don't look back at Zayne. I can't let him see how affected I am. I don't want him see how badly he's just hurt me. But more than anything, I don't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing I care enough to be hurt.

“What's up baby girl?” Alec asks the moment we are out of earshot of Zayne and the woman.

“I just wanted to drop this off.” I say, extending a white envelope to him. He eyes me curiously before peeling back the flap. When he catches sight of the cash, he looks back at me even more confused.

“For the guitar. It's every cent I owe you.” I say, gesturing to the money.

“Grace, no.” He says, trying to hand the envelope back to me. “You don't have to pay me back.”

“I want to.” I say, my tone suggesting that this is not up for discussion. “I asked to borrow it and now I am paying it back. Thank you for loaning it to me.”

“Look at you.” He says, stepping back to really look at me. “Dare I say my baby sister is not so much of a baby anymore?” He sighs, smiling fondly at me.

“I haven't been for quite sometime Alec. I think you're just now choosing to notice.” I joke.

“Yeah, I suppose you're right.” He says, checking his watch before glancing back at me. “I gotta go or Zayne and Ashley will start without me.” His words instantly slice through me. Ashley..... My stomach twists again and the little green monster in my head lets out a vicious scream.

“Oh and just so you know, we're leaving for China tomorrow morning.” He says, gesturing to the conference room door. “Should only be gone for a few days but if you need anything just call okay?”

“Is it just you and Zayne going?” I ask, trying desperately to keep my voice casual.

“Yeah and Ashley.” He says, sealing the nail in my coffin. My heart hammers painfully in my chest and I can feel the tears welling behind my eyes just begging to be spilled.

“Me and Zayne are working on expanding into the China market. Ashley works for the company that we are in negotiations with and is stationed here in their New York office. She's flying out with us but then staying in China for a couple weeks once our business there is finished.” He says, clearly excited.

“Well I should let you get to it then.” I say, plastering on a smile. “Be safe and let me know when you're home. Love you.”

“Love you too Grace.” He says, pulling me in for a quick hug before disappearing behind the conference room door.

I practically sprint the entire way out of the building. Trying with very little success to calm the storm raging inside of me. How could he do this to me? How can he sleep with me and then so casually bounce to another woman as if I mean nothing?

My tears are boiling over by the time I make it to the garage where my white Prius is parked. I tear open the door and collapse into the drivers seat

We never made things exclusive, I try to reason with myself. Only it shouldn't matter should it? Isn't there some unspoken rule somewhere that you are not allowed to take the virginity of your best friend's little sister and then totally fuck her over?

I honestly don't know why I am even surprised though. I know how Zayne was with women prior to me. It was foolish of me to think that he would be any different because I couldn't control my awakening libido. I pursued him so I asked for this right? Only I didn't pursue him, not really. I let out a scream of frustration and slam my palms onto the steering wheel. I hate him for treating me like just another one of his whores but more than anything, I hate myself for ever giving him the opportunity to do so.

––––––––

W
hen I arrive at
Vitos
approximately eight hours later, I am in no better of a mood. In fact, I would have to say that time has only given me the opportunity to let my anger fester. I have definitely reached the conclusion that jealousy does
not
look good on me.

“What's with you girl?” Becca asks, standing next to me at the bar. I shrug and lay back my third tequila shot before retrieving my guitar that's leaned against the stool beside me.

“Men.” I say, hoisting the case strap over my shoulder. Becca rolls her eyes and gives me the 'they're all assholes honey' look.

“What did yours do?” She asks, rolling her tiny lip ring with her tongue. Something she does all the time that I am convinced she doesn't even realize she's doing.

“Well he's not mine. Let's just say that was made crystal clear to me today.” I say, rolling my eyes, immediately thinking about how much Zayne hates when I do that. “Whatever. I'm better off without him. So I guess really, he did me a favor.” I say, throwing on a casual smile.

“Good for you. No woman needs a man to define her happiness.” She says, giving me an encouraging smile. “You better get up there.” She gestures to the stage as the lights in the bar begin to soften and one solitary stage light shines down on my stool. I might feel a little bit like a rock star if there were more than twenty people here. Noting to myself that even twenty is pretty good for a Monday night.

“Jake, can I get a bottle of water?” I ask, leaning against the bar to get his attention. He nods, turns to the cooler behind him and grabs a water before sliding down the bar at me. I catch it before it spirals off the edge, throwing Jake a surprised smile. Normally the bottle hits the floor before it ever reaches me. He nods in my direction, his smile mirroring mine, well except for the two undeniably hot dimples that light up his face.

I jump when my phone signals an incoming message. Having turned the volume off, it vibrates in my back pocket sending a light wave of pulsations through my leg. I consider ignoring it. I am ninety-nine percent positive that it's from Zayne, considering every message I have received today has been from him.

Grace it's not what you think -Call me

Please call me

We need to talk

And so on and so forth. I opted not to respond to any of them until the last one came through about thirty minutes ago.

I'm sorry

To that I simply responded:

You have nothing to be sorry for. We're not together.

I felt like a total bitch afterward but what the hell does he expect? I am certainly not going to admit that seeing Ashley straddled across his lap, her lips pressed firmly to his, is something that will likely haunt me for the rest of my existence.

Deciding to just check the message, I pull my phone out and click on the screen.

Play something for me, just for me.

I immediately re-read the message and then spin around, quickly tracing every square inch of the bar. He's here? There's no way he's here. But then how does he know I'm playing? I've never told him I work here but then again, I'm sure it's something that he could find out if he really tried.

My eyes flip from person to person, trying to pick out his face in the crowd. There is no mistaking his chiseled features, I would recognize him immediately. Only I don't see him anywhere.

“Dude you playing tonight or what?” Jake hollers from the bar, pulling my attention back. I spin towards him and promptly stick up my middle finger before throwing him a playful smile and making my way onto the stage.

My mind is still spinning from the text message when I take a seat on the stool that sits in the center of the stage. I plug my guitar into the amp and then click on the mic, adjusting the stand to the right height before setting my guitar in my lap.

A shiver runs down my spine and pulls my attention to the crowd. I have this eery feeling of someone's eyes on me, only of course there are eyes on me. I'm on a stage in front of a bar 'not so' full of people. But that's not it....

He's here. I don't know how I know it but I do.

Suddenly my mind goes blank. If he is here and he's watching me right now, I want to make sure I play something that tells him how I feel. That's one of the biggest perks of playing music. You can pour your heart out and no one actually knows if you really feel that way or if you're just simply singing a song.

Only problem is, I don't know what to play. A million and one songs flash through my mind. Songs that remind me Zayne, about the way he makes me feel.

Suddenly the perfect song just hits me. It's the most recent song that I have learned and I still have yet to play it here, feeling like I needed to get a little more comfortable with it first. But this is the perfect song. If Zayne really is here then this may be my only chance to play it for him.

The second my fingertips graze the guitar strings, the trembling in my hands eases. This is where I am safe. This is where I am free. Just me and my guitar.

Closing my eyes, I start the opening lines for “Butterfly” by Christina Perri. The song is slow and remarkably beautiful. Like with all songs, while it may actually mean something entirely different, it can be interpreted anyway the listener so chooses. To me, the song is about someone loving another person that always seems out of reach, never being enough for that person, and ultimately making the choice to let them go.

When I reach the climax of the song, the part that I connect to the most, I finally spot Zayne. He's leaning against the wall close to the front door, over half of his body hidden in the shadows. He steps forward but only just. It's enough for me to make out his face, his blue eyes staring fiercely back at me.

“I know exactly what you'll do. I made damn sure I studied you. You won't pick me, I am just a breeze underneath your wings.” I belt out the lyrics, never breaking away from his eyes. “And I pray each night you'll change your mind and maybe I'll be worth the fight. But I am wrong every time. You only know how to fly.”

I sing out the last few soft notes at the end and then silence my guitar. A small applause comes from the crowd. Not that I was expecting one at all. Applauding is something I am used to not getting, considering some nights my crowds consist of only a handful of people.

While I appreciate that they liked it, there is only one person I care about right now and at this very moment, his deep blue eyes are set directly on me, a small frown turning down the corners of his beautiful mouth. Before I have time to do anything, he turns on his heel and quickly exits the bar. Just like that. Without even a backwards glance.....

Remembering that I am up on stage, I take a deep breath and immediately start in on my next song. This one isn't about wanting someone or loving someone, quite the opposite actually. This song is emotional and raw and angry and right now, it's exactly what I am feeling. “Limp” by Fiona Apple. Arguably one of the best songs ever written and recorded by a female rock artist.

The tension and build in the song gives me a little reprieve from Zayne's wordless departure and by the end, I feel a hundred times better. That's what I love about music. While one song can describe my agony and pain, another can make me strong and fearless and then some just downright inspire me to be something more. Nothing specific, just more.

The rest of the night goes by with no incident. Of course I check my phone at the beginning, middle, and end of every single break. Not one word from Zayne.

Not a,
Hey sorry I left
. Or a,
Hey leaving for China, just thought you'd want to know
. Nope, I get absolutely nothing.

Well if him getting it on with some blonde at his office didn't tell me what I needed to know, his silence certainly does. To him, I am sex. That's it. I'm like the forbidden fruit. Something he's not aloud to have but he just has to taste anyways.

I get it. And while I'm hurt and even a little angry, I'm not shocked. I knew from the very beginning that if we ever crossed the line, sex is all it would ever be. Zayne is not the settle down with a wife and four children kind of man. No. Zayne is sex and power and a life without limits.

But even knowing this about him, accepting that I will never be anything more than this is heartbreaking. Truth is, I let a part of me hope and that's where I went wrong. Especially since I have done a hell of a lot more than hope. More like wish and pray and wish some more. The problem with wishing, it never comes true. Hope is for the naive and praying, well that's never done me one damn bit of good.

Seeing Zayne with that woman did two things to me today.

One, it showed me what it means to be truly jealous, something I have never felt before. And Two, I am one hundred percent, irreversibly, head over heels in love, with Zayne Evans....

And there's not a damn thing I can do about it.

––––––––

I
t's been four days since Zayne left for China. Four days that I have spent determined not to obsess over him and four days that I have failed miserably. Having Emma in the know has helped me tremendously. She has let me cry, get mad, and even laugh at my own ridiculousness. All the while being the comforting shoulder she has always been.