Before Now (Sometimes Never) (26 page)

She sits up, bringing her
self closer to me. Instinctually, I reach for her, clasping her fingers within mine. “Is there something there? A reason other than the obvious that you’re so big on not drinking and driving?”

I stare into her overly perceptive eyes and once again feel stripped bare in her presence. I’m not sure how she does this. How she sees everything. That itch to run and put some kind of distance between us presents itself with a frightening force. I release her hand and take a step back as I rake my fingers through my hair.

Clearing my throat and taking another drink, I brace myself to cut my chest open in front of this girl that I self-admittedly love. She’s seen a hell of a lot of my demons
surface from the shadows, but this one—this is my darkest.

“In high school,” I say, but my voice catches and I have to start over. “In high school, I went to a party and got drunk.” I shake my head and begin peeling the label off my bottle so I don’t have to look at her as I pour my guts out.

“That’s not true. I was already drunk when I got there. I got drunker. It got out of control, a fight broke out, and cops got called. I took off and Guy followed. That’s common knowledge.” I rub my forehead and swallow down the bile trying to rise. What I’m about to tell her nobody else knows but Guy.

Inhaling deeply, I close my eyes for a moment before chugging down the rest of my beer. And then I laugh harshly at myself. What kind of person drinks while telling the story of the time they almost killed their best friend in a drunk driving accident?

Me
. I’m the kind of person.

I stretch over the bar and motion for another.

The bartender holds up a finger, telling me to hold on and I turn back to Lucy. Her warm, gray eyes watch me closely and I feel my stomach tighten. I’ve never cared much about what people thought of me. I’m not a good person. I know that. I’ve come to terms with it. And I’ve never tried to hide it. But I care what Lucy thinks.

“I don’t want to
tell you this story, but you deserve to know who I am.”

She nods and I open my mouth just as a
nother beer appears. I pick it up and take Lucy’s hand, pulling her toward the back corner. I don’t want to do this in front of an audience.

We sit and I lay my palms flat on the table, staring at them as I recount the events of that night.

“Guy tried to stop me from driving. He asked me—he begged me not to. He tried to take my keys and it pissed me off. I fucking shoved him. I was so mad at him for so many things and that was just the final straw.” I shiver as the memory swarms up around me bringing with it all the emotion I’ve fought so hard to keep at bay these past two years.

“I got in my car and he stood there, this shocked look on his face. And then…
” I drop my head into my hands. My eyes sting and I honestly cannot remember the last time I cried, but I feel like it could actually happen right now. I stand up, my legs pushing the chair back so quickly it topples over. I glance down at it before I kick it out of the way and walk out the side door.

As soon as the door closes behind me I light up a cigarette and take a deep hit. I need something to calm me or I’m going to lose it.

The sounds from the bar grow louder, and then small, warm hands wrap around my stomach. I place my own hands over Lucy’s.

“Park,” she whispers.

I pivot quickly so I’m facing her and I grip her tightly, tugging her into a hug. I breathe in the scent of her hair. If I can stay like this…

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“Yes I do.” I pull away and pace in front of her. This is better. Just me and her. I can do this. And now that I’ve started, I think I need to do this.

“I don’t know why I told him,
Lucy,” I say. “But I did. I told him…”

She doesn’t rush me. She waits, her eyes wide, her hands shaking. I want to comfort her, but if I touch her I’m not sure I’ll be able to get the words out.

“I told him I wanted to die.”

Lucy
takes in a sharp breath, but doesn’t say anything. I’m glad. I’m so fucking glad she doesn’t say anything because I don’t think I can handle it at the moment.

“I don’t know why the hell he got in the car, but he did, and I floored it.
I was so drunk. I had no right to be behind a steering wheel. But I swear, if I hadn’t been drinking, I never would have driven the way I did. I never would have let him get in when I was like that. I didn’t… I just didn’t care at the time. I wanted to be away from the party as fast as I could and I couldn’t see past my own pain. I kept going faster and the next thing I knew, my face was slamming into an airbag.

“Guy almost died.
He had to have emergency surgery and physical therapy. I almost killed my best friend because I didn’t care if I lived or died.”

I can’t look at her. But I can’t stand her silence either. I lean against the brick wall and finish off my cigarette.

“Say something,” I rasp. I just want it over with.

I look up and meet her eyes.
“Did you do it on purpose?”

“No. I don’t think so. I don’t know. It all happened so fast.”

“Was it because of Hope?” she asks.

I pop another smoke between my lips and light it quickly. I hate this conversation. My legs are begging me to walk away, but I promised I wouldn’t do that again. I started this—I’m going to see it through.

“No. Yes. It was a lot of things. It was Hope, it was my dad, it was my life. I just didn’t want to keep struggling. Everything fucking hurt and I was so sick of it.”

“Do you still…
Do you still not care if you live or die?”

I move in front of her with determination. “I’ve been searching for a reason to care. I didn’t even know I was fucking looking, but then you shot me in the face
with that squirt gun and everything that happened before slowly stopped mattering.”

I dig my fingers into her mass of hair and pull her into me. “I care,” I whisper against her ear.

“You still drink. After that, you still get drunk night after night.”

It’s not a question. It’s not an accusation. She says it so calmly, so matter-of-factly.
And that’s exactly what it is. It’s a plain and simple fact. But I feel the tension in her body and I know it scares her. It scares me too. I’d like to reassure her, but she needs to know who I am.

“Yes, I still drink. Because that’s the kind of person I am. I’m a careless, selfish bastard and I will always put my needs before anybody else’s.
But I don’t want to be this way.”

“You don’t
have
to be this way,” she murmurs. “You’re better than that.”

I don’t k
now what it is about this girl, but when she says shit like that, I fucking believe her.

35

Lucy

The door opens quickly, slamming against the brick wall. “Hey, man. We’re on.”
I look up at the drummer from Park’s band and he lifts his chin, acknowledging me.

“Give me a few more minutes, Lewis. Okay?” Park doesn’t look away from me, so he doesn’t see Lewis nod his agreement before heading back inside.

As Park leans in to kiss me, I catch the remaining faded bruise near his eye, and a shocking realization hits me. I press on his chest, holding him back. “If you care, why didn’t you fight back?”

His dark brows draw together in confusion. “What?”

I feel my eyes beginning to water. My stomach twists and I feel sick. I reach out, resting my hand on the building for support. “You didn’t fight back when those guys jumped you, Park. I know you didn’t. And if you care now, like you say you do, then why would you do that?”

I study his face, waiting for some kind of explanation. For him to give me something. Some kind of hope. Anything to take this feeling away. He shakes his head, his face paling more and more with each passing second.

“Tell me,” I plead. Was that what he was trying to do? Was he trying to die that night? I think I’m going to throw up. “Tell me,” I say louder.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“The truth.” My voice quivers over the two small words. “Did you care the night you let those guys hurt you?”

“Yes.” He twists his fingers into his hair, his eyes flicking over my face. “I cared, but I couldn’t take all the shit that was running through my head. There was just too much. I wanted to feel less…or different. I don’t know. Once they started on me
, everything else faded, and… I honestly don’t know. It was stupid, but I learned my lesson. I’ve paid for it, believe me.”

The door opens again and Park closes his eyes, his jaw
tight. “Dude, they’re getting impatient,” Lewis calls. “You need to get in here.”

I reach out and take Park’s hand. His eyes open, peering down at our interlocked fingers and I tug lightly. “Come on. Your fans are getting rowdy.” I offer him a smile and he finally moves toward the door with me.

Just before I’m about to step inside, he twists us away, pressing me into the wall, and kisses me. His lips on mine, his taste on my tongue, it eases the anxiety of the past few minutes. I melt into him, holding on to this moment.

He pulls back and draws his thumb across my lip. “I don’t love you,” I breathe.

His head tips to the side. One side of his mouth twitches up into a smirk and he cocks a brow. His thumb trails down until he’s caressing my neck. “I don’t love you either,” he says softly. “Not at all.”

“Dude,
seriously
,” Lewis announces, the frustration evident in his voice. “Crazy, horny females getting out of control in here. Let’s go, dickhead.”

“You better go.”
I give him a little shove and he grabs my hand.

“Are you going to be with Jessie?”

I nod. “And Bree. If I can find them.”

“They should be up front.” He pauses and grins. “I’ll see you after the show.”

“Okay,” I agree. “Good luck, break a leg, and all that.”

His smile widens. He leans into me, his breath warm on my skin. “Just so you know—I lied,” he states. And then he saunters off,
leaving me to watch as he hops up on the stage and grabs the mic from the stand.

What did he lie about? The same thing I lied about? I bite down on my lip and turn to find Bree. I take two steps and slam into a hard chest. I bounce back, nearly falling. Large hands reach out gripping my arms.

“I’m so sorry,” I say, embarrassed. “Thanks for the save.” I tip my head back to see who I nearly trampled and my heart jumps into my throat.

“Hi Lulu. You look good.”

“Jared.” I yank my arms from his grasp, crossing them over my chest.

“How’ve you been?” he asks. He moves closer as if to hear me better over the crowd, but I don’t want him that close.
I step back.

“Great. You?”

“I’ve missed you.”

He missed me.
Right
.

I narrow my eyes, taking in his long, sandy colored hair that I used to think was so sexy, and his hazel eyes that used to captivate
me. And I feel nothing. Absolutely nothing for this man. He’s just a stranger now. And I wonder how I ever cried over him.

I smile
at him sweetly like he’s one of my difficult customers. “I can’t say the same. Enjoy the show. I’ll tell Jessie you said hi.”

He rubs his lips together, his fingers working through his mane of hair. “Jessie’s here?”

I nod as I glance around. “Mm-hm. Somewhere.”

“He still pissed at me?”

“I couldn’t say.” I’m done with this conversation. I just want to find my friends and watch my boyfriend sing. I look over my shoulder, wondering why they haven’t started yet and meet Park’s eyes. His brows lift in question and I shake my head.

“You know that guy?” Jared asks, drawing my attention back to him.

“He’s my boyfriend.” I sidestep him and he turns with me, cutting me off.

“You’re joking, right?”

I finally spot the top of Bree’s head, bouncing up and down. I can picture her springing back and forth from her toes to her heels like she does when she gets impatient. “What?” I say, distracted.

“You’re not really with Park Reed, are you?”

I put my hands out at my sides, palms up. “Why?”

“You had a stick up your ass over me, but you’ll get with him? Doesn’t make sense.” He chuckles, his eyes roaming over me.

I feel my nose crinkle in disgust. “Don’t compare yourself to Park. You don’t even come close to measuring up.”

I look back up to the stage. Park’s placing the mic back on the stand and I know he’s getting ready
to come down here. Jared needs to back up now.

“I have to go,” I add as I push past him.
The instant I make contact with him, the night of the party rushes in with a series of bad memories.

“Hey, you should take
my number,” Jared calls reaching for my arm. “You can hit me up when he’s done with you.” I jerk away. I don’t want his hands on me.