LOW: A Rockstar Romance (5 page)

Chapter 8

Low

As soon as Zoe left the party, it was like all the color drained out of the place. I leaned against the bar, talked with Maddie and Rane a bit, but my mind kept wandering.

My phone was burning a fucking hole in my pocket. All I wanted to do was grab it and scroll through the pictures I had just taken. The ones of her laughing and dancing, the close-ups I'd taken of her lips and her shoulder.

That kiss.

I felt a hand on my arm, jostling me. I looked up, startled, to see that Maddie was patting me sympathetically. "It doesn't get any easier," Maddie sighed. "But you start to like...detach."

"Just pretend it's someone else, dude," Rane advised.

I blinked at them, and then realized I had been staring at one of the banners with my face on it. "You look completely freaked out," Maddie said. "Try not to think about it so much. Pretend it's like, another person."

"That'll be pretty easy," I said, staring up at my own image as it stared back down at me. "Because, it sure as fuck doesn't feel like me."

None of this did. The party was wall-to-wall beautiful, plastic people.

Except for Zoe.

Zoe was real as hell. I could still feel her shape, like the memory of holding her was burned into my skin.

"I need a fucking drink," I muttered.

"I'll buy," Maddie said eagerly, still thinking my skittish behavior was the result of all this model bullshit. 

But I'd had enough. I stood up. "Do I have to do anything else?" I asked, wiping my hands on my jeans. My phone felt like it weighed a metric ton. 

"If they want you, they'll come get you," Rane said.

"Who else would want me?"

"Every chick in this place?" He spread his hands helplessly. "I dunno, dude. You've kind of struck a chord."

I grinned. "I'm a drummer. I don't do chords."

Rane pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh Jesus, don't ever let them tell you you're cool, Twi-er-Low. They're lying."

I grinned and lifted both middle fingers. "Have a good night guys, I'm out. Enjoy my party."

I ignored the confused looks my sudden defection caused. Usually, I was right there to the end, closing down the bar, getting dragged out of the party. But I had more important things to think about right now.

She said she needed to get up early. I didn't want to call her too late. I just needed to get out of here and to a place where I could get a clear signal, maybe be alone....

The chime on my text notification cut through my thoughts, and for a moment I thought that Zoe had read my mind. I looked at my screen, heart pounding like a middle-schooler when he first talks to his crush.

Pepper: Was it
fun???

A girl all right. But pretty much the exact opposite of Zoe.

Me: Hey sis.

Pepper: Did you strut through the club like it was your personal catwalk? Did the girls throw their panties at you?

I smiled at the screen. My sister barely spoke aloud, but she texted like a teenaged girl on amphetamines. And she always managed to get her point across perfectly.

In this case, she was hardcore making fun of me.

I leaned against the bricks. People were passing all around me. I heard a few of them whispering about how I looked like the guy on the banner. Who was I? And why was I out here instead of inside at my own party?

When they concluded that I was just some regular dude, I sighed with relief.

Me:
Exactly that, yeah. You should have come and witnessed it.

Pepper: Fuck off.

I winced.

Me:
You would have been fine.

Pepper: Don't push me, Woe.

I sniffed at the nickname. Back when we were babies and trying to learn each other's name, I called her Pepper instead of Piper. The name stuck and she grew to prefer it.

I always needled her that at least
I
gave
her
a decent nickname. What the fuck did
she
call
me?

Woe.

Fucking
Woe
.

I'm a happy-go-lucky, easygoing guy and my sister named me after grief-stricken sadness.

A name that really suited
her
way more than
me.

I sighed.

Me: Sorry. But it wasn't as bad as you think.

Pepper: It's always as bad as I think. Crowds, dancing, people yelling 'woo!' Ugh. Kill me.

Me: There was that. But...

I paused for a second. Should I tell her? It all depended on what kind of day Pepper was having. Was this one of her good ones? Or had today been one of those black ones where her demons ate her up from the inside out?

There was only one way to find out.

Me: But there was also this girl.

Pepper: Yeah?

She was interested. Today must have been one of the good days.

Me: Yeah. I got her number.

And I really want to use it now, Pep, so... wrap it up.

Pepper: Don't go falling in love with her, now.

I blinked at my phone.  I had never been in love, what the fuck was she talking about?

Me: What???

Pepper: You fall in love like it's your fucking job, Woe. Don't get your heart broken.

I had literally no idea what she was talking about. If this had been a conversation with anyone else, I would have just turned off my messages and ignored this warning. But Pepper? Pepper knew me. Better than I knew myself sometimes. And if she was warning me about something, then I needed to find out what that something was.

Me: I do not fall in love like it's my job.

The little indicator dots blinked for about a century before she finally replied. I stared at my phone, wishing like hell that she'd hurry up
.
I was far more irritated than made sense.

Pepper: Okay well whatever, tough guy.

Pepper: Maybe you don't actually love them, but you want
them
to love
you
and isn't that kind of the same thing?

I sagged back against the bricks again. We'd had this conversation before. Or rather, I would have the one-sided version of it, protesting loudly, telling her that she was wrong, that the reason that the last chick didn't work out had nothing to do with what Pepper was insinuating.  That I hadn't pushed that girl away at all, that she had gone willingly, mutual decision, ended things like adults...

And Pepper would sit there stone-faced, arms crossed, with one eyebrow raised to let me know that she didn't believe a word of t.

Me: It's not even close to the same thing.

Me: What you're saying isn't even close to being true.

Me: Just because

I swore when my finger slipped and I hit send instead of delete. I started typing, hoping to catch her before she replied, but she was way too fast.

Pepper: Just because what???

Fuck.

Me: Nothing.

Pepper: Bullshit.

Me: Well if you already assume you know....

Pepper: Just because I don't give a shit if people like me doesn't mean you have to be the same way? Is that what you're saying?

Me: It's beyond that, Pep.

Me: You tell yourself you don't give a shit if people like you as a defensive maneuver to protect yourself in case they actually don't.

Pepper: Oh look at you!

Pepper: You actually paid attention in therapy.

Pepper: Congratu

Pepper: fucking

Pepper: lations.

My heart tweaked. Old anger. Old regret. Old hurt that seemed like it would live inside of me always, no matter how many years went by. Regret was part of my DNA.

If we were talking in person I could say it gently. Fold her into a hug and reassure her. But over text message, there was no way to say it other than to just say it.

Me: Maybe you should have too.

Her reply was just as swift and brutal as I expected.

Pepper: Fuck OFF Lowell.

But I wouldn't and she knew it. I would never stop taking care of my sister. It was my job. Even when she refused to take care of herself.

Me: Have you been going?

Pepper: Fuck you. Seriously.

Me: You know I'm just going to keep bothering you.

Pepper: Yeah. You're annoying as hell.

I couldn't help but needle her.

Me: Yeah, I know. I just want you to love me.

Pepper: Too late, asshole. I officially hate you.

Me: Love you too, sis. Go to bed, you're a bitch when you don't get enough sleep.

Pepper: I'm always a bitch, Lowell. Have a good night. Don't stay up too late flirting with your mystery girl.

I sent her a poop emoji, just for the hell of it, and then shoved my phone back in my pocket. The time would come one day when Pepper could stand on her own two feet. When she wouldn't need her twin to act as her ambassador to the world. When that day came, I wasn't sure how I would feel. Relief, for sure.

But also adrift. Pepper was my anchor. And I was her sail. Not too many people understood us. They thought it was weird that I - a grown-ass man, living on his own - would drop everything when my sister needed me. Chicks, in particular, seemed to view Pepper with a mixture of pity and jealousy.

Had my sister messed up my past attempts at landing a steady chick? Sure. But she never meant to. Pepper wasn't malicious that way, though that was hard to keep in mind when she was screaming at you and flipping you off. More than one girl had given me an ultimatum. Said it was her or Pep. Demanded that I cut off all contact with my crazy sister. That was always my cue to end things.

With the girl.

And the funny thing was, they always seemed confused. And then they'd get offended that I'd choose my blood - the only family I had left, my fucking shared DNA - over steady pussy.

As if my loyalty made me less of a man.

If I wanted to start something with Zoe, and I did, here was no reason to think that things would end any differently. No one ever stayed in my fucked up life for long.

Pepper was the type of person to look at these odds and say
why even try
?

But me? I always tried. Because the allure of being happy with someone, even for just a little while, was just too much for me to resist.

I took my phone back out of my pocket. It was well past one AM, and she probably wouldn't even reply until the morning... if at all... but I had to reach out.

Me: If you're already asleep, then I hope you have a good night. If this woke you up, then I'm sorry. And if you're waking up tomorrow morning to see this on your phone, then good morning. I hope you had as much fun tonight as I did.

I stared at my phone for a beat, then tucked it into my pocket, shoved my hat on my head and walked through the crowd back to Neal. As we pulled away, I saw my face on the banner at the front of the club reflected in the rearview. As it receded in the distance I sighed with relief and leaned my head back on the seat. The half-drunken adrenaline started to ebb, and the heaviness of sleep began to take its place.

Then my text message beeped and my adrenaline surged once more.

Zoe: Hi.

I scrambled to reply, suddenly all thumbs.

Me: Hi.

I was a fucking poet, that's for sure.

She sent a smile emoji. Then

Zoe: I like that picture you sent me.

I leaned forward, bracing my elbows on my kneecaps. "Neal, drive around the block, would you?" I called to the front.

"Sure, Low," he replied. I grinned that we'd moved past 'sir'.

Me: Me too.

Zoe: Why'd you send it?

I licked my lips. The corner of my mouth still tingled where her lips had grazed it.

Me: So you could see how beautiful you look when I'm kissing you.

Me: I'd like to recreate it. But this time someplace we can be alone.

She sent a smiley face. Then a wink.

Zoe: You didn't want to save it for blackmail?

I leaned back in the seat. It had been a long time since a simple text conversation was enough to get me hard.

Me: I thought we established that clothes needed to be off for blackmail?

There was a long pause. I waited, hoping I hadn't offended her. Maybe now that the drunken high had worn off she was regretting letting things go as far as they had between us? Maybe she was realizing that the guy in the ad was nothing like the guy in real life?

A picture came through. Creamy skin rising in a soft curve.
Holy shit.
A dark cleft.
Fuck me.
I drank it in, my heart racing.