Mayhem Page 3

  “Ignore it, Peach.”

  His phone beeps a third time, and I use my hands to coax his face back to mine. I’m trying to tell him he needs to check his phone because I think he might be late, but he covers my mouth with his before I can, doing this thing with his tongue that makes me forget whatever it was I was going to say.

  His phone beeps again, and I wiggle down and reach into his back pocket. I check the time on his phone and see that he’s five minutes late and has four missed texts from Shawn.

  “You’re late,” I say between kisses.

  “I’m always late.”

  The door to the room suddenly swings open and Shawn is standing there rolling his eyes. “For fuck’s sake, Adam, you’ve just been making out for twenty-­five damn minutes?”

  I can’t help laughing, too drunk by now to feel embarrassed. Adam smiles down at me. “She’s a really good kisser.”

  Shawn walks over and grabs Adam by the back of his jeans, hauling him off of me. “Come on, man. You can see her after.” Looking down at me, he adds, “Sorry.”

  I straighten my top and sit up, feeling all kinds of giggly inside. I just made out with Adam Everest, who was, hands down, the best kisser of my life.

  “Shawn, this is Peach,” Adam says, and as soon as I stand up, Shawn reluctantly reaches forward to shake my hand.

  “Hi Shawn.”

  “Hi Peach.”

  Adam shakes the zipper of his jeans as he adjusts himself, and a fierce blush heats my cheeks. “See,” he says, “we’re all friends now. Stop getting your panties in a bunch, Shawn.”

  Shawn sighs. “Peach, you can hang backstage during the show if you want.” He shoots a look at Adam. “But we do have a show we need to put on. Five minutes ago.”

  “I can’t,” I say as we’re walking back through the hallway. “I’m here with a friend.”

  “So bring her back too,” Adam says from behind me.

  I don’t reply because that is such a bad idea. Dee has been with a lot of guys, but none like Adam or Shawn. Bad combination. Bad.

  I stay silent as I descend the stairs. Adam and Shawn patiently wait for me to put my shoes back on, and then we slip back into Mayhem, entering through a backstage door. Before I can leave to find Dee, Adam wraps his hand around my waist and tugs me into a corner.

  “Come back to the bus after the show,” he says.

  I press my hands over his ears and pull him down to my lips, kissing him because I know it’ll be the last time I ever get to. I make it count, savoring every last second of the way his silky-­soft lips mesh with mine. When I release him, he looks like he’s seriously contemplating mauling me right there on the backstage floor, and I grin up at him.

  Then I walk away.

  When I fish my phone out of my purse, I have three missed texts from Dee.

  You’re kidding.

  You’re not kidding!

  OMG, what are you doing, getting pregnant?!

  I chuckle and text her back, asking where she is, and she tells me she’ll meet me at the bar. The whole time I’m walking, I’m paranoid I’ll see Brady. My eyes dart to every guy with moussed blond hair I see. I kind of wish I had left my heels off, because I’m still tipsy as hell and using ­people’s shoulders to keep me balanced as I weave through the crowd.

  Dee suddenly bounds up to me from the direction of the bar and slaps her hands on my shoulders with a huge grin on her face. “You are DRUNK!”

  I realize I’m squinting my right eye—­my telltale giveaway—­at the same time I tip to the side from the impact of her hands. I grip her arms to steady myself. “A little,” I admit with a sheepish grin.

  “So what did he look like?!”

  The squeal of a microphone interrupts our conversation, and we both look up to the stage as everyone starts screaming their heads off and surging to move closer to where Adam is standing, front and center. He grips the microphone and pulls it from its stand, swinging the cord around to move closer to the edge of the stage.

  I turn back to Dee, needing to tell her about Brady before I lose my nerve. “Dee—­”

  Adam’s voice interrupts me. “I see a lot of pretty girls in the crowd tonight.” The girls scream even louder, making my attempts to speak to Dee futile. She screams right along with them, and I give up, surrendering all of my attention to Adam and feeling my skin heat at the sight of him. When Dee invited me to the show, she told me that the band is really popular around here and is only getting bigger; judging by the crowd’s enthusiasm, they must be incredible.

  Adam runs a hand through his hair, tugging it away from his eyes and dropping it to the side. “Shawn over here just pulled me away from the hottest one here less than two minutes ago!” Shawn laughs, and so does the crowd. Adam mumbles, “Thanks a lot, Shawn.”

  Shawn leans into his back-­up microphone and says, “You’re welcome, Adam.” He points out at the audience. “Can I get a ‘Thank you, Shawn’?”

  Adam holds his microphone to the audience, and in unison, everyone shouts, “Thank you, Shawn!”

  Adam shakes his head. “You all suck.” He says it with a chuckle, and everyone laughs. “Peach!” he suddenly yells. And even though he has no idea where I am in the crowd, my skin flushes a fiery shade of pink. “I want you to know that your boyfriend is a goddamned idiot. I can’t wait to help you forget about him some more as soon as we’re done with this set!”

  With that, the band starts playing, and Adam launches right into their first song. I suddenly feel the need to fan myself off, and when I glance at Dee, she looks like she could use some air just as much as I could. She turns to me and says, “He is so. fucking. hot!”

  Before I have to lie to her, because I can never lie to Dee’s face, I blurt, “Brady’s here.”

  “What?!” she asks, pulling me farther from the stage so we can hear each other better.

  “I said ‘Brady’s here!’ ”

  “Where?!” Her eyes dart around the crowd, but there are so many ­people, it’s useless.

  “He’s with another girl, Dee.”

  Her eyes snap back to me. “Another girl? Are you sure?”

  “I saw him kiss her.”

  She frowns at me for a moment, and then she pulls me in for a hug so tight I can barely breathe. It’s the exact kind of hug I need. The minute I’m in her arms, the tears break free again, dripping onto her bare shoulder. “Do you want to get out of here?” she asks.

  I nod, and then she’s pulling me out of the club. I cast one last look at Adam. He’s shouting into the microphone over an ocean of raised hands. The front row is all girls, reaching like they’re trying to touch him. And even though I was touching him just a few minutes ago, I know just how they feel.

  Dee was right. This is a night I’ll never forget.

  Outside, we sit in her car as I cry into a stack of travel tissues. She shifts to face me, resting her knee on the center console. “You’re positive it was him?” I blow my nose and let the tears fall, still not wanting to accept it. “Ro?” she says.

  “I’m sure, Dee. I texted him and watched him pull his phone out of his pocket, look at my message, and put it away.”

  She’s silent, and that scares me. When I look up at her, she’s positively seething. “That fucking asshole,” she growls, and I can see the wheels turning in her head as she contemplates all the horrible things she wants to do to him. “That motherfucking ASSHOLE. I can’t believe this!”

  She starts the car, and I sober up a little at the sound of the engine. “Are you good to drive?” I ask.

  “I’m fine.” She puts it in reverse and backs up, and I know that’s the end of it. Never ask Dee twice if she’s good enough to drive. She’s not stupid, and if she says she’s fine, she’s fine.

  “Where are we going?” I ask once we’re on the road.

  “We’re
getting your stuff.” She glances over at me, reading the confusion on my face. “You’re staying with me, babe. There’s no way in hell you’re going to be there when that asshole gets back tomorrow.”

  I never thought about where I would go, but she’s right. I can’t stay there. I can’t see him. “I can’t believe he did this to me right before I’m supposed to start school.”

  She casts a sympathetic glance in my direction, but she leaves the words unspoken. And just like that, because we’ve been best friends since forever, I know what she’s thinking. He didn’t just do this to me—­he’s been doing this to me for a long time. All those business trips, all lies.

  I rest my forehead against the window as more silent tears fall. I’m thinking of Brady, of how I don’t know what to do about him. I love him. Even after everything I saw tonight, I love him. But I’m not going to be that girl. I’m not going to be that girl who lets guys lie to her and walk all over her and cheat on her. I’m thinking of Adam, and how easy it was to be with him. How exciting. How he did make me forget, and how while I was with him, none of this shit with Brady mattered so much. How I walked away from him and now I’m all alone.

  Dee reaches over and squeezes my arm, and I clasp my fingers with hers. “Thanks for always being there for me, Dee.”

  “Shut up,” she says, and I let out a congested chuckle. She smiles over at me and gives my hand another squeeze.

  By the time we’re finished going through my and Brady’s apartment, Dee’s car is packed to the brim. I changed into a T-­shirt and yoga pants and then packed every single last item of clothing I own. All my jewelry, cosmetics, personal effects. I took the damn panini maker, and I would’ve taken our big flat-­screen TV too if only we had the room. I thought about leaving a note, but decided not to. What would it possibly say? You broke my heart, I’m a blubbering mess, I love you, you asshole? We got out of there as quickly as possible, and then we drove to campus.

  On my third trip up the stairs to Dee’s third-­floor dorm room, I’m huffing. “Are you sure your roommate’s okay with this?”

  Dee drops one of my shoes down the stairs and curses under her breath. “Are you kidding? The girl has no friends. She’s thrilled.”

  My arms are full, but using my thumb, I manage to snatch up the shoe Dee dropped. “Then why isn’t she helping us lug all my crap upstairs?”

  “Because she’s socially retarded,” Dee answers bluntly, and I just shake my head. I have to lean against the wall for a minute because the stairwell starts tilting. When we arrived at my apartment, I was still way too drunk to drive, so we left my car there.

  “We’ll have to get my car on Monday,” I say. “Brady never told me what time he’s coming home tomorrow, and I don’t want to run into him.”

  “I wish we would run into him,” Dee snarls, and I don’t have to ask why. I’m guessing he’d enter that encounter with two healthy testicles and leave with negative one.

  Dee’s roommate holds the door open for us as we carry my things in and collapse on Dee’s bed.

  “Macy,” Dee says, “we’re going to clean this mess up tomorrow, okay?”

  Macy nods from where she’s standing awkwardly in the center of the room, pinching the hem of her T-­shirt. “Okay. It was nice to meet you, Rowan.”

  “Thanks for letting me stay here, Macy. You’re the best.”

  Her smile is the facial equivalent of jumping for joy, and it makes me smile back. She finds her way back to her glowing desktop computer, and Dee and I lie on the bed trying not to immediately pass out.

  “You need to get out of your stripper heels,” I tell her.

  Dee groans and throws her leg up over the bed, plopping her foot down right on my stomach. I oomph and then start laughing. I unbuckle her shoe and then she throws the other leg on top of me and I unbuckle that one too. She doesn’t even bother changing clothes before we both crawl under the covers. She reaches over to turn off her bedside lamp, and then we’re out like lights.

  Chapter Four

  THE PAIN IN my head this morning reminds me of last night first thing. I groan and shift in the bed, and then Dee groans and shifts too. And then we’re both just lying there trying to out-­groan each other until we giggle like goofballs and I smack a pillow over her face.

  “You . . . bitch . . .” she groans without any conviction.

  “What time is it?” I groan back. The room is filled with light, making me squeeze my eyes shut even tighter.

  She fumbles around for her phone, knocking it off of her nightstand and then scooping it off the floor. “Noon. Why the hell are we up already?”

  “Because we need aspirin and coffee and bacon.”

  After a long pause, she finally says, “Okay. Get up and get dressed.”

  “You first.”

  And then we both fall back asleep.

  I wake up half an hour later, and even though I really don’t want to, I actually crawl out of bed this time. “Where’s the shower?” I ask, pushing my finger into Dee’s forehead.

  She swats my hand away. “Down the hall and to the right. Take my tote with you. It’s by the door.”

  After a quick shower, I come back to Dee’s room positively starving. She snatches the tote from my hand and then takes her own shower as I try to find my brush and hair dryer and makeup in the pile of crap we tossed on the floor last night. I root through suitcases and over-­stuffed trash bags and other misfit luggage. By the time she gets back, I’ve only just found everything I was looking for. We end up competing for mirror space in front of her vanity as we get ready, and the bickering actually makes me feel a little better.

  Dee had pleaded with me to room with her when we decided to go to school in Virginia, but was graciously understanding when I explained that I really wanted to live off campus with Brady.

  Hah! Yeah, right.

  She had guilt-­tripped me for a month, ignored me for a week, and then tried to turn my own parents against me. She never liked Brady, and I never understood why. But maybe her intuition is just better than mine. I guess it’s got to be, because I’ve been absolutely clueless.

  “Hey.” She bumps her shoulder against mine when she catches my reflection frowning, dangerously close to tearing up. “Don’t. Not one more tear for him, Ro.”

  I take a deep, shaky breath. “Okay.”

  “Has he sent you any messages since last night?”

  “Yeah.” When I checked my phone while Dee was in the shower, I saw that I had one missed call and one missed text from him. He didn’t leave a voicemail. I hand Dee my phone so she can read the text.

  Sry I missed your txts, baby. It was a late night. Tried calling u this morning but I guess you’re sleeping in. Be home in afew hours to kiss u awake. Love u more.

  Dee makes gagging noises, but I can’t even crack a smile. He sounds just like the Brady I knew, the Brady I fell in love with.

  Did I ever really know him at all?

  Dee snatches the hairbrush from my hand to prevent me from running it through my wavy blonde locks for the hundredth time. “Okay, let’s get you the hell out of here.”

  We’re halfway to her car when I ask, “Don’t you have a cafeteria on campus?”

  “Yes . . .”

  “Then why are we walking to your car?”

  Her shifty eyes aren’t fooling me at all. “I thought maybe we could stop by your apartment . . .” she confesses. “Throw some of Brady’s clothes on the lawn. Break some of his shit. I wasn’t thinking clearly last night when we just got your stuff and left.”

  I shake my head. “No, Dee.”

  “Why not? Ro, he deserves so much worse than that. And maybe it’ll make you feel better.”

  “It won’t. When he comes home and has no idea why I left, that will make me feel better.”

  Dee gives me a skeptical look, but as if on cue, my phone
starts vibrating. I lift it up, showing her that Brady is calling. “See? Better already.”

  “Don’t you dare answer that.”

  “Wasn’t planning on it.” I decline the call and stuff the phone back into the side pouch of my purse. It’s silent long enough for us to get to Dee’s car, and then it starts vibrating again. I pull it out and turn it off completely.

  “Did he leave you a voicemail?” Dee asks.

  “Not yet. But he will.”

  She nods as we both hop inside of her plum-­purple Civic. “I still say we should’ve broken some of his shit.”

  I shrug. “Then he’d be under the impression I care.”

  “But you do care . . .”

  I find the strength to give her a half smile. “That’ll be our little secret.”

  She rewards me with a grin of approval and starts the car. I waste no time buckling my seat belt and making sure it’s pulled tight. Riding with Dee is . . . unpredictable. And with the nausea I’m still feeling from my hangover, this just isn’t going to be good.

  By the time we arrive at IHOP, I’m practically dry-­heaving.

  “Oh, stop being a baby,” she says as she whips the car into a parking spot and hops out, stretching her arms behind her back. I brace my hands on the hood, trying to calm my contracting stomach.

  “That should’ve been a twenty-­minute ride,” I say.

  “I made it in ten!”

  “I know!”

  She laughs and starts walking toward the entrance, and I follow. Inside, we both order strawberry pancakes with coffee and sides of bacon. Dee fishes a hair tie from her purse and ties back her long dark chocolate curls. “So before the incident last night, did you have fun?”

  I pour a heart-­clogging amount of syrup over my pancakes, letting it soak in before adding another coat. “Yeah, I did.” I look up at her. “Seriously. Thanks for making me go. And honestly, I’m glad I found out about Brady. Sooner rather than later, you know? If he would have proposed, like I wanted him to . . .” I don’t even want to finish the sentence, but Dee knows. I would have said yes and given the rest of my life to him without ever looking back.