“What?” I groaned, not bothering to look up at him.
“What the fuck is her deal, anyway? Why did she get so bent out ofshape over a little bit of weed?”
I looked up at him, flaring my nostrils and wondering if I shoulddivulge with him, the tragedy of Kylie’s life. I didn’t think he deserved it.But then again, everything I had to lose was already gone.
“Her dad overdosed.”
Robbie shot his thin eyebrows upward. He was intrigued. “RichieRich isn’t her daddy?”
“Her mom’s boyfriend,” I corrected.
“Huh,” he said, tipping his head back. Letting his smoke spiralinto the air. “Her daddy died?”
“Yep.”
“Well,” he said, nodding, “that sure sucks for him. Sorry to hear.But, that doesn’t exactly give her a reason to keep her man from having a goodtime, if you know what I’m saying, but … maybe you don’t. Anyway, come find meif you need me.”
With that, he staggered toward the door and I was grateful to hearit slam behind him. But fuck, the shit he had said, about it being a choice Ihad made. Coupled with her words, about me being the problem, I wondered ifthey were onto something.
If this was just a part of who I was now and if maybe I shouldembrace it.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
OneMonth Later
Devin
Itrudged my wayfrom the stage and grabbedthe bottle of whiskey I kept waiting for me. I pulled my phone from my pocketand looked at the picture of her I kept on my lock screen.
BecauseI couldn’t let go—I didn’t know how.
AsI drank from the bottle, I stared at it until I convinced myself I could smellher. I unlocked the phone to hover my thumb over the button to call her. Again.
AllI did was call and leave her voice mails. To sing to her. To tell her about theplaces I’d been. To tell her about the Rocky Mountain Oysters I tried, managinga laugh about actually eating sheep’s testicles. To tell her about the bestfucking cup of coffee I had since hers. Just to give her those memories and tofeel like she’d been there with me.
Alwaysleaving out the drunken nights.
Alwaysleaving out the parts I couldn’t admit to myself.
Leaningagainst the painted brick wall, I stared at her number. Debating with myself ifshe’d care to hear about another killer show that left me exhausted and drainedof life. Did she need to know again, that I wished she had been in the frontrow? Did she need to know that I looked for her, even when I knew she wouldn’tbe there?
Sebastianclapped a hand against my shoulder. “Hey Devin, last night in Louisiana, man.Youwannahit up a bar or something?”
Ilifted my head from the wall and hit him with a half-hearted smile as I raisedthe bottle. “Nah, I’m good.”
Typulled his sweat-drenched t-shirt over his head and tossed it onto a foldingchair. “Come on, bro. You neverwannado anything.It’s been weeks since you heard from Kylie and it sucks, but you can’t mopearound forever.”
“Afew weeks is hardly forever,” I protested, stuffing my phone back into mypocket and taking another swig from the bottle. Hoping it would help me sleep,although it never did.
Ifelt like I hadn’t slept in weeks.
Robbiesauntered in, eyeing me with mischief. I couldn’t understand why, until I sawthe redhead behind him. Lurking nervously with a daisy pressed to her chest. Mybrows drew together, and I begged him with my expression to explain.
“Boys,this is Becca.”
Sebastianraised his bottle to her. “Hey.” Ty nodded his own hello, and I waved.
“Niceto meety’all.” Becca smiled. “Hey Devin.” Her voicewas light and airy, a hint of Creole clinging to the syllables.
