Damaged But Not Broken (New Adult Rockers) (14 page)

“Don’t ask,” I say grimly. I throw
a few bills down on the table and stand up. “I’m sorry guys, but I gotta head
out.” I nod towards the door, acknowledging Savannah’s exit.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Kenny says,
nodding. “Go take care of things.”

"Thanks
Ken
." I
say, feigning discontent.

Feeling like a child in trouble, I
make my way out of the club. I’m not looking forward to this drive home.

Sure enough, Savannah is standing
alongside my truck, her arms crossed and folded, her eyes shooting daggers.

I unlock the door and she huffs
inside.

As soon as I pull out of the
parking lot, she starts.

“There is no way that you are going
on that tour!” she cries.

I try not to let my anger get the
best of me. “Be reasonable, Savannah. We know that I need this tour. I can’t
play bars in Nashville for the rest of my life.”

“No,” she says coldly, “you can’t.”
She pauses, “That’s why I’m going to call Daddy first thing in the morning and
tell him that you are quitting music and want a job with him.”

I know I should stay calm, but it’s
impossible. I nearly shoot through the roof.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?
You don’t get to make decisions like that for me!”

“Well, I just did! I’m not having
you go on tour with that little piece of trash, so you will just have to tell
Kenny to find a new opening act, or you can quit! Besides, Daddy will pay you
more than you could make touring anyway.”

“That’s not the god-damned point,
Savannah! This is
my
life!
My
career!”

“It’s my life too!” She shouts,
“And this tour isn’t happening!”

I grip the steering wheel and take
a few deep breaths.

“We can have this conversation
later, when we’ve calmed down,” I say, keeping my voice steady.

Savannah stares out her window.
“I’m not going to change my mind.”

“You better watch yourself here,
Savannah,” and I hear the cutting edge to my voice. “You’re about to cross a
line that you don’t want to cross.”

For the first time, Savannah looks
over at me and I see a small trace of doubt cross her face.

“What are you saying?” she asks.

“I’m
saying
that this is my
livelihood and you don’t want to go around giving me ultimatums.”

“Whatever,” she says coldly.

“Don’t test me, Savannah. I’m not
in the mood. I work for Kenny. I’m under contract. I can’t just get out of my
contract because my fiancé is insecure over some girl I dated fifteen years
ago. Who also happens to be my boss’ daughter. You’re screwing with four
people’s careers here because
you
feel threatened.”

She opens her mouth to speak, but
thinks again and then closes it.

The rest of the ride home is silent
and I slam the car door when I get out and walk ahead of Savannah. I lock
myself in the office and she doesn’t dare come knocking. Pissed as hell, I take
out my guitar and start playing some songs.

It calms me a bit, but I’m still on
edge. When I can no longer hear Savannah puttering around in the living room, I
come out and get myself two beers before retreating back to the office. The
bedroom door is closed so I assume she’s gone to bed.

I’m so fucking angry that I can’t
even think straight, but I try hard not to dwell on it. I spend the night on
the couch in the office, tossing and turning as I dream about Savannah and
Paige.

~~~

I hear Savannah moving about the
kitchen in the morning, but when I look at my phone again, it’s nine-thirty and
I know that Savannah must be at work by now. I come out of my office and make
sure that she’s actually gone and then I hop in the shower.

I know I shouldn’t do what I’m
about to do, but I can’t help it. I scarf down some breakfast and then get in
my car and drive to Kenny’s house. I pound on the front door but no one answers,
even though I see Paige’s car in the driveway. I go around the side of the
house, hop the fence, and knock on one of the back patio doors that lead to
Paige’s part of the house.

“Blake? What the hell?” Paige asks,
pulling the door open and tugging down her t-shirt hem. I get the impression
that she just threw her clothes on.

“Paige, I’m sorry but I have to
talk to you,” I say, pushing my way inside.

“Sure, come on in,” she mutters.

I stop. “I’m sorry. That was rude
of me. I’ve just been out of my mind since last night.”

Her face softens. “Okay. Come on in
and sit down,” she gestures to her small kitchen table. “Can I get you
something to drink?”

“A soda would be nice.”

She pulls out a can of Coke and
hands it to me, and then picks up a glass of orange juice resting on the
counter.

“What’s going on?” she asks,
sitting down across from me.

I rake my hand through my hair.
Where the hell do I begin?

“It’s Savannah. Your dad came in
last night to share the good news about the tour.”

Paige smiles and nods, but I can
see she is wary because I’ve mentioned Savannah.

“Let me guess. Savannah has a
problem.”

I nod. “A major problem. She’s
threatening that I have to quit the group if we go on tour with you.”

“What?” she screeches, splashing
her orange juice onto the table. “That’s ridiculous! This is your career! She
can’t make those decisions!”

“I know, I know. And I told her as
much. I think I scared her a bit last night because I told her that she really
didn’t want to go there with me.” I take a deep breath. “The thing is Paige, I
want to do this tour, and the fact that you’re going to be there only makes it
that much more appealing. Aside from touring with you, I need this tour for my
career. I’m at the point where Rust is either going to make it or break it. I’m
not ready to give up music and become a suit and tie guy. I don’t think I could
ever do that.”

Paige nods sympathetically. “I’m
really sorry, Blake. I wish this were easier. I promise that I’ll stay far away
from you.” She drops her head remorsefully. “I already feel awful about the
other day.”

“No way! I told you not to feel
guilty!”

“I promised to give you space! I'm
just as much to blame for the kiss as you are. I could have tried harder to
stop you and I didn’t.”

Now I'm overwhelmingly frustrated,
I jump up from the table.

“That’s not what I’m trying to say,
Paige!” I take a deep breath. “Savannah’s threatening you, her behavior last
night, coupled with her ultimatums, just seems like too much. I’m thinking
about –’’ I lose my nerve and start again. “I’m thinking about ending things
with her.”

“What?” Paige gasps.

“I just don’t know if we’re meant
to be anymore.”

“Oh my god, Blake, you can’t do
this. Please tell me this is not because of me! I’m so sorry!” She jumps up
from the table too. “I think you need to leave! I didn’t come to Nashville to
be a home wrecker,” she cries, on the verge of tears now.

“No, no, Paige, that’s not what I’m
saying. It just kind of opened my eyes to the fact that Savannah might not be the
right woman for me.”

“Blake,” she moans, covering her
ears, “I can’t hear this. I feel awful enough as it is.”

She yanks the door open and stares
expectantly at me. She wants me to leave.

I go to leave, but turn around to
face her as I cross the threshold.

“Think about it,” I say
desperately, “Think about how it could be if
we
were together.”

I see a glimmer of hope on Paige’s
face, but it’s just as soon gone and she shuts the door in my face.

TWELVE

Paige

The Guilty Kiss

I hurry to the front of the house
and watch Blake’s truck pull away. Wrong, wrong, wrong. It’s so wrong. I feel
terrible that Savannah gave him an ultimatum; it’s almost like she knew about
our kiss. But I can’t have Blake making any rash decisions, not when he’s
engaged.

Of course, I’ve dreamed about being
with Blake. Imagined what it would be like if we could actually be together.
And I
know
it would be amazing. But I can’t be responsible for the
demise of a relationship. Especially, when I know deep down that Blake and
Savannah never would have had problems if I hadn’t come back to town.

Okay, maybe that wasn’t entirely
true. Savannah wasn’t an angel. Blake clearly has his hands full with her. But
right now, their drama is directly related to me.

Only one thing will help clear my
head, and I head back to my room and throw a swimsuit on. I dive into the pool,
feeling the calmness of the rhythm of swimming laps.

The laps give me something to focus
on, a way to channel my energy, and by the time I climb out of the pool,
exhausted but satisfied, the noise in my brain has calmed down. I wonder if I
shouldn’t have sent Blake home right away. Maybe we should have talked more.
But I was so terrified and yet secretly thrilled by what he suggested, that I
couldn’t be around him for one more second.

I can't dare to let myself think
that maybe, somehow, he and I could have a future. It's wrong on so many
levels. Not just because he's engaged, but also because I'm damaged goods. I
had just returned to Nashville, and was just starting to deal with my past
here. As much as I felt an attraction to Blake, what would really happen if we
tried to become intimate? I was never able to become intimate with men after
what happened to me. I keep telling myself that it would be different with
Blake, because we had been intimate before, and because I trust him, but would
it?

I lay out in a lounge chair,
letting the warm Nashville sun bake my skin. Blake probably spoke without
thinking anyway. He was mad as hell at Savannah and her ridiculous ultimatum,
so he thought up the most ludicrous of solutions. For all I know, Savannah
could apologize tonight, and tell Blake she made a huge mistake and he could go
on tour without any issues.

I feel my own anger rise when I
think of the position she put Blake in. She couldn’t possibly be serious that
she wanted Blake to give up his career because we would be on tour together for
one lousy month. Was she really that intimidated by me? And what for? She was
the one who had Blake. How could a woman who looked and acted like Savannah be
so insecure?

I sigh, knowing that I need to get
back to writing music. I’ve done pretty well so far, but I really need to keep
working, especially since I’ll be on tour soon. At first, I thought my dad was
just doing me a favor by asking me to go on tour, but when he showed me how
well I was doing at filling the clubs, I had no choice but to believe that he
really was making a smart business decision, numbers don't lie. Of course, I
was thrilled to get to spend more time with Blake, even though I knew it would
only cause me heartache.

I hadn’t told my Momma yet because
I was afraid of what her reaction would be when I told her I was opening for
Blake. She already knew I still had feelings for him, and I had confessed how
Savannah had showed up in the driveway to confront me. I know my mom would
think it was a bad idea, but how could I say no when it was going to benefit my
career?

Resigning myself to the fact that I
need to try to make this day productive, I get up to shower, and mentally
prepare myself for the dreaded phone call to Momma.

~~~

The rest of the week passes by
without incident, and while I’m relieved that Blake and I haven’t seen each
other or spoken, my heart aches for him.

It’s exhausting.

I know that Saturday night Rust and
I are booked in the same club on the same night, and by the time Saturday rolls
around; I’m a bundle of nerves and excitement. I’m desperate to see Blake, but
I’m so terrified of what could happen between us. I’m sure that Blake has had
time to think over his ludicrous suggestion of leaving Savannah, and I wonder
if Savannah has budged on her preposterous ultimatum. My dad hasn’t said
anything else about the tour, besides going over the dates, so I’m assuming
that everything is still a go.

As I get ready for Saturday night,
I find myself primping more than usual. I remember what it was like as a
teenager when I would get ready for my dates with Blake. That was the only time
that I was excited to get ready for time spent with a guy. In college, I would
force myself to dress up, dreading the time alone that I would spend with my
boyfriends. And I wondered why those relationships didn’t work.

I spend extra time blow-drying my
hair, and then gently curl the ends so they’re soft and bouncy. I carefully
apply my makeup, spending additional time highlighting my blue eyes.

I pour over my closet, and finally
select one of the new dresses I bought this week. It’s midnight blue and
form-fitting with a plunging neckline, it’s classy but sexy at the same time. I
opt for blue sparkly heels, which add just a pop of fun to the ensemble.

After messing with my hair some
more, I groan in frustration, unable to get it exactly right of course. I
resign from the mirror, grab my guitar and hurry out the door towards the
driveway. I’ve decided I can’t have my father continue to escort me to gigs, so
tonight I’m driving myself. This makes me more jittery than usual, and I take
deep breaths and listen to the radio as I drive along the highway.

“Everything will be fine,” I
promise myself in the car. “No one is going to hurt you, you can do this.”

I know I sound like a lunatic, and
even though I partially blame my father for what happened to me, it was nice to
have him at events – my pseudo protector. As I try to talk myself into
calmness, I envision Blake’s sexy eyes, and my stomach flutters up in nerves. I
realize it’s hopeless to try to be calm at this point.

I park near the club, and grab my
guitar and hurry inside. The owner greets me, and ushers me back to the tiny
closet of a dressing room. I go on before Rust, much like how our concert will
run and I have only five minutes until I’m being summoned on stage.