The Beginning of Us (43 page)

I’ve been concerned about her since I heard about the plane crash that killed her husband. It was widely televised in Tampa. My parents still live there and told me about it, since they knew Alexis and I were friends in college. In spite of all that she’s been through, she looks okay, not deeply devastated, but a little derailed. I know it’s been over a year. I have no idea how long it takes for life to be okay again after a loss like that. I haven’t ever lost anyone close to me. I tend to try and keep most people at arm’s length, anyway.

Jed and I weren’t friends, per say, we knew each other because we ran in the same crowd. When he and Alexis started dating, I tried to stay away from him as much as possible. He was a nice enough guy, but shit, I was crazy jealous. He had the most amazing girl I’d ever met and there was no way I wanted to ever hear how happy she made him. So, I just hung with Alexis in between her classes, when she could fit me in, and tried to avoid social situations where I would be forced to see them together. I could never have handled seeing her wrapped around another guy.

Lex and I would sit on the west lawn where I would play the guitar and sing with her. It was my favorite college pastime. Many guys would say they loved the time they spent partying, picking up the chicks, or hanging with the frat brothers, but me, hell no. My time singing with Alexis was the best time ever. Hell, I think I would still choose that over packing the house at Madison Square Garden.

The girls are leading the way to their suite. I’m in the suite directly above them. Damn, how the universe works sometimes!

We reach the door to their room. Before they walk into the room I hug each of them and tell them I’ll see them around this weekend. The door closes gently behind them, as Alexis steps up to give me a hug. Now that I know Alexis is here, I know I won’t be able to stay away. When she gets close, I sweep her up and swing her around in a big bear hug. It feels so nice to be close to her. “Sweetheart, I knew I missed you, but even I didn’t realize how much until tonight.”

I see her cell phone poking out of the front pocket of her purse. I pull it out and quickly program my number into her phone, then dial my own number from her phone, so I can save it. I vow to myself at that point, never again will I let her get away from me.

Even though I’ll never have her in the capacity I once wanted her in, and still do frankly, I refuse to live a life without her. “Tomorrow morning, let’s go for a walk on the beach. We can go early. We have a lot of catching up to do. I’ll get you back here before the girls wake up, so that I don’t trample all over that girl time.” I intended it to be a question or invitation, but it came out as a statement and order. I realize my mistake, but still continue with my words. “Call me, as early as possible. I’ll be waiting.” 

She looks confused, but her facial expression changes from a funny little scowl to what I’m hoping is a look of acceptance. She pauses and takes a deep breath, “Okay, Garrett. Thanks for tonight, the drinks, the performance, and mostly for hanging out with us. It was a lot of fun. It’s…” She hesitates, and I’m still stuck on that she said okay. “Yeah, it’s been a fun night, Garrett. Thanks, again. We’ll chat tomorrow morning. If you don’t hear from me, you can call me, now that you have my phone number,” she says, pointing out the obvious fact that I took it without asking. I shrug unrepentantly.

Yes, I do have her number, and damn it, I’m going to burn those digits into my brain. Shit, if it were up to me, she wouldn’t be going to sleep at all tonight. I would drag her cute little ass down to the beach, and make her tell me every damn thing that she has done since we’ve lost touch. But since that sounds insane, and I want a little bit of her time tomorrow, I’ll try and be reasonable. I gently brush the back of my fingers across my cheek. She’s so damn soft. “Yeah, sweetheart. Tomorrow. Goodnight, Lex.” I bend down and kiss her cheek. Then I open her door for her and she walks in. I can’t wait to get back to my room and dream about her resting directly under me, nestled snugly into her bed.

Alexis

Chapter 4

I close the door to the suite and fall against the wall, sighing. I wanted to tell him how happy I was to see him, but he’s only here a couple days before he has to go back to his superstardom, real life. I don’t want to come across as the desperate blast from the past. Seeing him again leaves a very unfamiliar feeling in my body. You know, that feeling when you can’t seem to get close enough to that special someone because every millimeter closer feels so much better than the last? Only, I shouldn’t want that with Garrett. He’s just my friend. He’s always been just my friend, yet, when he bent down to kiss my cheek, my heart was fluttering and I desperately wanted his touch on my lips, not my cheek. What is wrong with me? I really need to pull myself together.

Garrett’s here for his cousin’s wedding. His gift to the couple is to sing the song for their first dance. He has hired the band for the wedding, too. Apparently they’re incredible musicians, a local indie band. Since the wedding is in a couple days he’s hoping to hang out on the beach and get some R&R before going back out on tour. I’m not sure how that’s going to happen with all these fangirls hanging around plotting sexcapades with him. What I thought was funny earlier, when those girls were talking about some unknown star, now infuriates me! They can all keep their nasty little hands off him.

The girls have gone to their separate rooms for bed. I walk quietly into the bedroom I’m sharing with Whit. She’s in the bathroom brushing her teeth, so I quickly dress in my favorite pj pants and tank and climb into bed. I’m exhausted. Yet I can’t stop thinking about this evening. I’m actually comforted by seeing Garrett again after all these years. It’s always made me a little sad that our friendship was disposable to him, but I guess that comes with fame and fortune. You have to leave the little people behind. That’s alright, at the end of the day I’ll be happy to have had a few hours with him to reminisce and hear about his life.

“Do you really think I’m going to let you drift off to dreamland without discussing what went down tonight?” Whitney says, marching into the room and plopping herself down on my bed. “Spill it, Lex. What happened tonight?”

Like I know what the hell is happening. I never expected the stampede of butterflies, or to perform with him like we’d been doing it for years. The shiver when his lips touch my face, and the desire to have him closer than I’ve ever wanted anyone, was even more unexpected. How the hell can I answer her questions when I don’t know myself?

“Whitney, it’s almost two in the morning. I don’t know what you’re talking about. We met up with an old friend, had a great night full of reminiscing and conversation. That’s it. You were there the whole time. Did you see something I didn’t?” I ask, my voice laced with annoyance.

“Yes, I suppose I did, since my brain-dead best friend didn’t see the man sitting at our table, staring longingly at her all night, and completely taken with every single syllable that escaped her mouth. What the hell is wrong with you, Lex? How could you not see it?” she asks.

“No, Whitney, leave it! We’re just friends. It’s always been just friends. Stop trying to make it into something it’s not, stop imagining things. I haven’t even set eyes on the man in almost a decade,” I say sternly, and to make my point very clear I throw in a nasty look before walking into the bathroom and firmly closing the door.

“Be pissed at me all you want, but I wasn’t imagining shit and YOU KNOW IT, Alexis,” she says through the door, while I completely ignore her. That’ll show her. I’ll pretend I didn’t hear.

I stand staring at myself in the mirror, begging for a reason from myself for the feelings that stirred tonight. I haven’t ever had that angsty, can’t-get-close-enough-to-your-touch feeling, ever. What’s different about tonight? What’s different about now? What’s different about him and me, together? I had a crush on him in college and got butterflies when he was around, but this, this is very different.

When I leave the bathroom after washing my face and brushing my teeth, I see that Whitney is sound asleep. Thankfully round one of that conversation is over, but my guess is round two will begin before I’ve had a chance to find the answers to my own questions.

I close my eyes, willing myself to get some sleep, but rest escapes me. I wonder what early means to him. Early to me is 5 a.m. Sierra is an early riser. She likes to wake up when she hears the birds start chirping at around 6:30ish. Should I call him at my early, or wait until a more reasonable 8 a.m.? He’s a superstar; I’m pretty sure 5 a.m. is much too early, especially since we didn’t make it back to the hotel until after 1:30 a.m.

It’s now 2:30 in the morning, and sleep still escapes me. I decide to do a little reading on the balcony outside. I grab my phone and my Kindle and head outside. Hoping the fresh air, and an escape into the fictional world of lovers I don’t know, will make my brain too tired to think.

After an hour of reading, daydreaming, and listening to the ocean, I finally feel myself relax enough to drift off to sleep. I really don’t want to move and this chaise lounge is getting more comfortable by the second. I decide to stay where I am.

The next thing I hear is my iPhone chime, alerting me I have a text. It’s from Garrett.

Garrett: Are you awake yet? Early was an hour ago. I’m outside your suite. I have a Chai for you. If you’re awake, open up.

I check the time. Oh my, 6:30 a.m. Well, at least I know we both have the same definition of early, for future reference. I respond before heading to the room to quickly get dressed and meet him in the hall.

Me: Just waking up. Sorry…had a hard time falling asleep. I’ll be out in a few minutes.

Garrett: Alexis, stop texting me and open the door!

Oh my, but I’m wearing pajamas. Great. Well, I guess it won’t be the first time he’s seen a woman in pjs. My guess, he usually sees his lady loves in much less than pajama pants and tank tops. I walk over to the door and look through the peep hole. He looks directly at the door and waves. How does he know I’m looking?

“Sweetheart, I know you’re there. Open up. I have Starbucks for you,” he says, as if he can read my mind and expression through the door.

I open the door, and he hands me a venti, non-fat, no water, no foam, Chai Tea Latte. Oh my goodness, my drink. How did he know? He couldn’t possibly have remembered it after all these years. It’s not like it’s a simple order.

“How did you know what I drink?” I ask.

“I took a chance that your drink order hadn’t changed. I remember that’s what you used to order when we hung out back in the day. But I wasn’t sure if your taste buds had matured. I guess not,” he laughs.

“What the hell! You were winning major cool points for remembering my drink and bringing it to me. That totally went out the window when you insulted my palate. You ASS!” I smack his arm, and it’s hard,
really hard
. It hurts my hand.  Shaking out the throb, I flinch. “Ow. That hurt.”

He smirks, “Don’t hit that babe. It’s like rock! You should know better. Let me see,” he says jokingly, but with concern seeing that I’m still shaking my hand. “You okay?” he asks while inspecting each finger, then placing a kiss on my palm. The throb immediately dissipates. All I can feel is the tingle of his touch.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Let me put some real clothes on,” I say, running off to the room to change. “I’ll be back in a second.”

The beach is empty when we make our way downstairs. There are a few workers out setting up cushions on the chairs and stocking the bars. This early it’s not too warm. We’re walking side-by-side sipping our drinks, not really saying much. The silence isn’t uncomfortable. It’s pleasant, but I still feel the need to fill the silence.

There are so many things I want to ask him. “Garrett, can I ask you a question?”

He looks over at me. “Anything you like, lady,” he replies with a smile.

“Why didn’t you keep in touch with us after you left?” I ask and he looks remorseful.

“Oh, I was afraid you’d want to talk about that…well…I guess, I was afraid to tell you guys how hard it was to survive up there. I was afraid to be a failure in everyone’s eyes. So, I just didn’t call. I’m sorry. I was an ass and that was wrong. I thought of you all the time, Lex.”

Huh, but he wasn’t a failure. I never would have thought of him that way. I was proud of him before he was a superstar. “But, you weren’t a failure. You did what you sought out to accomplish. You’re successful. Congratulations on making all your dreams come true! I’m really proud of you. I always have been, even before you made it, Garrett. I’ve always known how special you are.” Okay, that was deep, but it needed to be said. Didn’t I ever tell him how amazing he is, even back then? I know I told him. I must have.

He looks at me, and his gorgeous gray eyes melt me to the core. “Sweetheart, not all my dreams have come true. My biggest dreams have yet to see the light of day.”

What more could he want? He’s a superstar musician, he’s rich, he travels the world, and he has adoring fans who worship him. He can have any woman he wants. Yet, he wants more? I can’t even imagine.

“Tell me about your life, Lex. What are your days like? What have you been up to for the past nine years?” he asks.

“Well, I’ll give you the CliffsNotes version. Jed and I married, I’m not sure if you know, just over five years ago. I have the most adorable little girl in the world. She’s four and a half, and keeps me so busy. My brother and his wife, Kate, live about two miles from me in Tampa, which is great, since I’m alone now. When Jed died…it was really hard…but I’m getting better and Sierra is so great!” I say, wondering if he’s heard enough, but he’s just looking over at me waiting for more details. I continue, “I guess since she was still so little when Jed died, she doesn’t really remember what it was like when he was around. It’s a double-edged sword, because I want her to remember him, yet it’s nice that she isn’t sad. That sounds bad, but I guess there’s not a better way to describe it. Do you know what I mean?” Having to explain that is awful.