Desperate Chances (16 page)

My friend looked at me. Then looked at Mitch. Then at Sophie. “What’d I miss?”

Mitch grabbed Sophie’s hand and I could see the fine tremors in his arm. “We’re leaving,” he barked and all but dragged his girlfriend down the hallway and out into the club.

“Gracie! What in the hell?” Vivian and Maysie hurried towards me and I felt suddenly very, very tired.

“I just want to go back to the hotel. I’m not feeling so well,” I told them weakly.

“What were you and Mitch yelling about?” Riley demanded, not letting me walk around her.

I rolled my eyes. “It was nothing. It doesn’t matter. I just want to leave,” I replied flippantly.

It doesn’t matter.

Vivian put her arm around my shoulder. “It’ll be okay, G,” she murmured, kissing my cheek. I leaned into her, barely able to hold myself up.

“Will it, Viv?” I asked her, hating the feel of new tears on my skin. God, why was I still crying over him? When would I stop feeling like this?
Shattered.

Vivian gave me a squeeze and rested her head on top of mine as we started to make our way back to the club. “Absolutely,” she said with confidence.

I hoped she could believe it enough for both of us.

I
wanted to hit something. I wanted to scream. I wanted to run back into the club and finish the argument Gracie had started. Or had I started it? Did it really matter? Damn her for making me feel, once again, so completely out of control.

“What was that all about?” Sophie demanded once we were in the back of the cab and headed towards the hotel.

“It was nothing. Seriously,” I said through clenched teeth.

“It didn’t look like nothing,” Sophie prodded. She wasn’t going to let this drop. Not that I blamed her. I can only imagine how the whole thing looked. I felt like a complete dumbass for getting pulled into Gracie’s drama. Again.

“Gracie just said some stuff that got under my skin,” I remarked dismissively.

“What did she say?” Sophie asked sharply. She was digging her nails into my arm and I winced.

“I’m pretty sure you’re drawing blood, Soph,” I told her and she loosened her grip, pulling her hand back.

I looked out the window and pressed my forehead against the cool glass, running my hand over my arm. Damn. Sophie had some claws.

“Mitch! What did she say that made you so upset?” Sophie’s voice rose shrilly.

“She said that she was sorry,” I said softly. My throat seized and I couldn’t say any more.

She was sorry.

I’m sorry.

I believed her. I really did. It was hard not to when she looked so fucking contrite and guilty. That was probably the worst part. Her guilt. Because it was a completely useless emotions and did nothing to get rid of the constant lump that had taken up residence in my gut.

Sophie didn’t say anything right away. I glanced over at her and she too was looking out the window.

“She said she was sorry,” she repeated dully.

“A little too late though.”

Sophie gave me a pained smile. “Sure it is.”

Was she being sarcastic? I couldn’t tell. Why couldn’t women just say what they meant instead of leaving us poor guys to try to figure it out on our own? Everyone knew that was a bad thing.

When we got back to the hotel, I pulled out the key card and let us into our room. I knew that Gracie was staying somewhere on the same floor. I cast a quick look down the hallway wondering briefly which room was hers. Was she back from the club? Had she stayed behind? What was she doing?

Why did I care?

Just so I can avoid a run-in.
It was hard to convince yourself of a total lie.

“I’m really tired. I think I’m going to go straight to bed,” Sophie said once we were inside.

“Oh. Okay.” I watched as she pulled the covers back and climbed in. “I guess we should try to get a good night’s sleep. We have to head out early tomorrow.”

Sophie didn’t say anything more as she lay down and rolled onto her side. I could tell she was pissed. And she had every right to be. I had engaged in a screaming match with another woman in the middle of a club. I couldn’t remember exactly all the things I said to Gracie, but I had a feeling it didn’t sound good.

“I’m fucking sorry I fell in love with you in the first place!”

That had been harsh. I had meant it to be. The look on Gracie’s face when I had said it indicated that the words had done the trick. I had hurt her. That’s what I had wanted to do.

So why did I feel like such shit because of it?

Because I had lied to her. I wasn’t sorry that I loved her. It was the one thing I could never feel.

Regret.

Not when it came to my feelings for her.

I wish I did. It would make things a hell of a lot easier.

I looked over at Sophie. At her rigid shoulders and stiff back. I was an asshole. A total asshole.

What the hell was wrong with me?

“Goodnight,” I said to Sophie after turning off the light. I should touch her. Hold her maybe. Would sex make things better?

The thought of that made me feel cold inside. I couldn’t screw Sophie now. It wouldn’t be right. Not with another woman in my thoughts.

You are a grade A bastard, Mitch Abrams.

I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood. I wanted to yell. I wanted to scream. I did neither. Shame strangled me. Rendering me mute.

“Goodnight,” Sophie muttered, not bothering to look at me. Frigid. Like strangers. No touching. No affection. Just suspicion and frustration.

Long after Sophie fell asleep I laid there, staring up at the ceiling, unable to settle down.

I was angry. So fucking angry. My hands were clenched into fists by my side and I kept picturing
her
face.

“Jesus, Mitch! I’m sorry!”

She was sorry.

She was
freaking sorry?

Her apology infuriated me. Because what I told Sophie was true. It was too late to make a difference. Too much time had passed. Too many things had changed.

Why hadn’t she said those words sooner? When they could have made a difference.

“You don’t look very broken. It seems you’ve had lots of help being put back together.”

She had no clue how broken I still was. How she continued to shred my guts so carelessly. I had thought being with someone else would lessen the power she had over me.

What a load of bullshit.

One thing was for sure. Seeing me with Sophie bothered her. I thought I would have felt more satisfaction in that.

At one time I would have
wanted
her to be upset. For her to feel just a fraction of the rage that consumed me all of the times I had watched her leave a bar, or a club with another man.

Now I realized that I never wanted to see Gracie hurt and upset. That it felt like a punch to the kidney to know that she was in pain.

And that enraged me.

I turned my head to look at my sleeping girlfriend and felt…
nothing.

Absolutely
nothing.

“Jesus, Mitch! I’m sorry!”

I dug the heels of my hands into my eyes wishing I could just
stop.

I was angry with Gracie for making me feel like this all over again.

And I was really angry with myself for falling into her chaos. She made it too easy to get lost in her.

Why can’t I let her go?

Knowing I wasn’t going to be able to sleep, I quietly got out of bed and quickly got dressed. I grabbed the key card from the desk, left the room, and eventually found myself in the small courtyard behind the hotel.

I stood there, staring up at the night sky and wished I could make sense of what I was thinking and feeling.

“What are you doing out here? It’s like one in the morning.” Maysie walked towards me, a sweater wrapped around her.

“It’s cold, you should be inside,” I said with concern. “Won’t Jordan be wondering where you are?”

Maysie waved away my comment. “You know how he is. A tornado could hit and he’d sleep through it.” She sat down on a small stone bench and patted the spot beside her. “You can’t sleep either?”

I shrugged and sat down. “Not really. I didn’t want to wake Sophie up so I thought I’d get some fresh air.”

“Insomnia must be catching,” Maysie laughed, rubbing her hands together, trying to keep them warm.

“You should have worn some gloves. You’re going to get sick and Jordan’s going to come and beat my ass because I let you sit out here when it’s freezing,” I scolded her good-naturedly.

“Psh. Jordan can be overprotective. He seems to forget sometimes that I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself,” Maysie said.

“He just loves you, Mays. He doesn’t want anything to happen to you. You’re lucky to have someone who cares so much about you,” I said softly, feeling a strange lump in my throat. Maysie’s expression was penetrating and a little disconcerting.

“So, the tour’s almost over,” she said, changing the subject.

I pulled up the collar of my coat. A breeze had picked up and my ass was already going numb. “Yeah and it’s not looking as though the label’s in a rush to put us on another one. I was talking with Josh the other day and he says he could hook us up with some gigs in the city once we’re home, but we’ll see.”

Maysie nodded, pushing her hair out of her face. “That could be good. But I also think that you guys could use a break.”

“I’m glad Jordan made us save most of our advance and royalty earnings instead of blowing through it like rock stars. At least we can take the time to figure out our next step,” I said.

Maysie nodded in agreement. “It was great of Mr. Levitt to help you guys invest your money. I don’t know many rock and rollers who have IRAs,” she snickered.

“We’re so hardcore,” I retorted.

“Just smart. At least you won’t feel pressured to make any sudden decisions. You have some time to really think things through.”

I nodded. “Yeah. I just keep thinking it might be time to grow up a little bit. Maybe get a real job.” Stability had a nice ring to it. Music was my dream. It always had been. But what was I left with when the dream was over? Do I keep chasing it?

Or do I find a new one?

“I’ve gotten an offer from a PR firm to work for them as a publicist,” Maysie stated.

I looked at her in surprise. “Oh wow. That’s awesome! I didn’t know you were looking for another job. What will we do without you there to put a foot up all our asses?” I moaned. I was joking, but I meant it. Maysie was the one that made sure we took care of ourselves and made it to shows on time. She was like a sister and a mother all rolled up into one. And she was damn easy to talk to. Jordan was a lucky guy.

“I guess you’ll have to put your own foot up your asses.” She frowned. “Wait. That doesn’t sound right.”

“And painful,” I laughed.

“I’m not sure if I’m going to take it. But I do know that I need something for me. I can’t follow Jordan around forever, no matter what he decides. And with things being so—well—up in the air for the band, I figured I needed to plan for the future. I can do a lot of the work from home or on the road as needed so it’s not like I have to uproot my life. Which is good considering Jordan and I would eventually like to start a family.”

“Haven’t even gotten down the aisle yet and you’re already talking babies?” I teased.

Maysie swatted my arm playfully. “Some of us want the white picket fence, Mitch.”

“That comes with the tatted and pierced husband? That doesn’t sound very Norman Rockwell.”

Maysie rolled her eyes. “Everyone’s happily ever after is different. I like the look of mine.”

Her words made me pause. “You know, if there’s no Generation Rejects, I’m not sure what else I could do. I never went to college like Jordan. I don’t have family money to fall back on like Garrett and I sure as hell don’t have Cole’s luck to always land on my feet. I’m good at playing music. That’s about it.”

Maysie patted my knee. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard you say. I know for a fact you’re good at a lot of stuff.”