“…you against my fallow heart. There’ll be no sympathy from me, my friend. I lost you out in the shallows…”
For the past twenty minutes I’d been successfully working on a tutorial project, my laptop open on the table, beer beside it, while my friends sat around me listening to indie rock band The Stolen.
We were in Milk, a bar on the Cowgate, an area of Edinburgh where my fellow Americans and I were living while doing a year abroad at the University of Edinburgh.
Luckily for me, I was the kind of girl who could drown out a live rock band and a noisy crowd in order to complete classwork I forgot was due the next day. I could’ve stayed back at my apartment, but I had unpleasant business to take care of there later so I was avoiding having to spend any more time there than necessary.
This hadn’t been a problem until my friend Lowe, lead vocalist of the band began singing my favorite song, “Lonely Boy.” Since the moment I’d heard it months ago during their first set in Scotland, it’d struck a chord. And every time I heard it, it pulled me in.
I turned my head from my laptop screen to look up at the small stage. Lowe, a hot, smart musician with tattoos, a lip ring, and messy dark hair, caught my movement and focused on me, his eyes smiling over the top of his rimless glasses.
I gave a small smile back and picked up my beer, listening to his song.
Lowe told us that he was never more honest than he was when he wrote a song. In response, my boyfriend Jake had joked about me writing a song for him. The joke fell flat because the truth was I wasn’t being open enough with him. I was keeping a part of myself from Jake. Tonight was supposed to be a step forward for us—a big step for me, but one I felt I had to take if we had any hope of holding onto a relationship.
I’d been feeling nervous but okay about it. Until Lowe and his freaking song.
As if he’d guessed where my mind had wandered, Jake rested his chin on my shoulder. He wrapped his arms around my waist and drew me against his chest. “Where are you right now?” he asked, his lips tickling my ear.
I shivered and turned my head slightly so his lips touched my cheek. “I’m right here.”
“Why does this song get to you?”
I jerked, staring into his gorgeous face in surprise.
Jake smiled slightly, his dark eyes warm and knowing. “I pay attention.”
“You’re a know-it-all.”
His white teeth flashed. “Only when it comes to you. When a subject really interests me, I give it my unwavering focus.”
“Are you saying you’re an expert on me?”
His eyes lowered and I felt his grip loosen. “Hopefully one day you’ll let me be.”
Not knowing how to answer, I looked back at the stage. For the last few days, since we’d started a physical relationship, the uneasiness that existed beneath the surface had only increased. It wasn’t borne of not wanting one another. Far from it. No, I was holding out on an emotional level and Jake was trying to be patient, which wasn’t his strong suit.
All in all, it had created a sense of fragility between us.
I relaxed against his hold, brushing my fingers over his knuckles.
“Beck, show us your pecs!” a pretty brunette at the next table shouted over the music. I smirked at the scowl my girl Claudia shot her way.
Beck was Jake’s best friend. He was also now one of Claudia’s best friends. As lead guitarist, Beck stood at the front of the stage with Lowe. He was absurdly attractive, tall and blond, with lethal gray eyes and an even more lethal smile. Beck was everything you’d expect from a rock band, with his sleeve tattoos on one arm, lazy-ass sense of style, and a way with women. He oozed sex and charisma more than anyone I’d ever met in my life, but I knew there was more to him than the whole bad-boy thing he played up. I knew this because I’d seen how different he was around Claudia. He wanted to be devoted to her in a way he wouldn’t even admit to himself, which was probably why he was eye-fucking the brunette at the next table.
Catching the look, Claudia downed her drink and turned away from the band. Rowena, our Scottish friend who we suspected was sleeping with the bassist, Denver, brushed her bright purple hair out of her eyes to exchange a worried glance with me.
Claudia was erratic around Beck.
I knew she was attracted to him, but I had my suspicion, as did every person in our group with the possible exception of Beck, that Claudia was in love. However, one minute she pretended to be fine about his manwhorish ways, and the next she looked like she wanted to find a corner to cry in.
I nudged her arm and she looked up at me with sad, stunning green eyes. Did I mention she was the most beautiful girl I’d ever met in real life and one of the coolest, funniest, kindest girls to boot? Did I mention Beck was an idiot?
“Do you want to go?”
She glanced back at the stage, glowered (which, in all honesty, I preferred to the sad puppy-dog look), and turned to me. “Yeah, if you’re ready.”
“You’re leaving?” Jake leaned into me again.
“It’s either that or I kill your best friend.”
Jake looked over at Beck and gave a slight shake of his head. “He needs to pull his head out of his ass.”
“Yup. Before then, though, I’m going to head back to the apartment with Claud.”
“Want me to come?”
I heaved a shaky sigh. Time to admit what I was up to tonight. “I actually have a thing tonight. A telling-Mom-and-Dad-about-me-and-you thing…”
Jake’s eyebrows rose. “Did I hear that right over the music?”
I cupped his face in my hands, feeling the slight bristle prickle my skin. Playfully, I rubbed my nose against his, smirking. “You might want to watch what you say next. I’m feeling a little nervous right now. I might back out.”
In answer, I felt the soft press of Jake’s mouth against mine. My lashes fluttered closed and my lips parted for his soft, sweet kiss. My mouth tingled as he drew back.
“I’m also telling them about the academy.”
For that, I got another kiss, but instead of drawing back afterward, Jake pulled me into a hug. I melted against his strong chest, my hands resting on the hard muscles of his back. He smelled great, and the strength in his arms as they held me to him made me feel safe.
In that moment all my worries disappeared. I felt the traitorous compulsion to open my mouth and whisper those three little words.
“You ready to go?” Claudia’s loud question stopped me in the nick of time.
Pulling reluctantly out of Jake’s hold, I said, “Wish me luck.”
“You don’t need it.” He brushed my cheek with his thumb. “Thanks for doing this for me. It means a lot.”
My throat clogged with emotion so I flashed a cheeky grin to cover it. “I’m doing it for us.” I stood and shoved my laptop and notes into my backpack.
Jake’s hand curled around my thigh and I glanced down to see him staring up at me, unable to hide the uncertainty in his eyes. “You’ll call me afterward?”
“If it’s not too late.” I bent down and pressed a quick kiss to his mouth. “See you tomorrow.”
I said goodbye to Rowena as Claudia moved through the busy room toward the barroom. When I turned back to wave goodbye to the guys, I got a chin nod from Lowe but nothing from Beck. He was too busy watching Claudia leave, a little furrow between his brows.
She hadn’t bothered to say goodbye to him and at this point, I didn’t blame her.
Outside the bar, Claudia wrapped her arms around herself, her long dark hair blowing wildly behind her. She had a remote expression on her face I didn’t like. Not one bit. Ignoring my own nerves over the conversation I was about to have with my parents, I strode forward and linked my arm through hers.
She smiled absentmindedly at me as we walked toward the apartment.
“So,” I said, “last weekend you and Beck seemed fine. You seemed to have come to terms with how things are between you, and you were nervously excited about taking him with us to Barcelona to meet your father.”
Claudia’s parents were wealthy, self-indulgent, neglectful socialites from Coronado, California. They had no time for their daughter. Over Christmas break, Claudia found out why her dad was particularly indifferent. Turns out he wasn’t her real father. Her real father was a British artist called Dustin Tweedie. In an effort to make some kind of amends, Claud’s mom had tracked him down. He lived in Barcelona and Claud’s mom was going to pay for Claudia to fly out there this spring to meet him—with Jake, Beck, and me in tow for moral support.
Claudia tightened her grip. “I was. But that was last weekend.”
“What happened between then and now?”
“I wrote an email to Dustin two days ago.” She wouldn’t look at me, and anger burned hotly in my blood at the sight of her throat working against emotion. “I still haven’t heard anything back.”
Having no idea what it felt like to be the recipient of not one, not two, but three indifferent parents, I really didn’t know what to say. “It’s only been two days.”
Two of our neighbors called out to us and we waved back. As soon as they were gone, Claudia shrugged. “Does it matter? I should just face it now. He won’t want me coming out there and interrupting his life.” Her laugh sounded hollow. I hated it. She wasn’t meant for bitter. “Let’s face it, Charley. I’m missing whatever that thing is that makes men care.”
Stunned, I stopped outside our courtyard gate. “That’s not true.”
She pulled away. “I can’t even look at you. You would never let them make you feel like this.”
“Uh, hullo.” I waved my hand in front of her face. “Were you not here these past few months, watching me wallow in self-pity over a certain handsome young man with the surname Caplin?”
She snorted but still wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“Claud, we’re allowed to have bad days, okay? Today is a bad day for you. That’s all. This shit with your parents is not going to change you. Please don’t let it.”
“And Beck?”
I cared about Beck, I did. And I know he cared deeply for Claudia, but right now it wasn’t enough for her and I felt like we’d had this conversation one too many times. “I think maybe you had the right idea last week.”
“Cutting him out a little?” She shrugged. “He got all broody about it and I caved.”
“Well, this time, don’t cave.”
She shot me a droll look as we walked toward our building. “Oh really? It’s that easy.”
“Okay, maybe not. Maybe you just need a distraction.”
“A distraction?”
“Yeah.” I thought of the one thing that had distracted me while Jake was dating Melissa. I grinned. “You need Lowe.”
“Um, I like the guy and all, but I am not sleeping with Lowe.”
“I’m not talking about sex.” I gave her my most serious look. “Believe it or not, Lowe is an incredibly insightful, compassionate, patient guy. He’s a really good friend to have on your side.”
“Jesus, does Jake know you’re half in love with his friend?”
“I am not in love with Lowe. He was just there when I needed him. You should hang out with him. Seriously. Oh, and don’t say shit like that in front of Jake.”
She grinned mischievously and the uneasiness I felt dissipated. This was more like Claudia. “Does Mr. Caplin have a jealous streak?”
“Yes. It’s almost as wide as mine,” I grumbled.
“And you’re positive my hanging out with Lowe won’t incite your jealousy?”
I considered it, letting her walk into the apartment ahead of me. It wasn’t too long ago I’d had a crush on Lowe, but that’s all it was or ever would be. What I felt for Jake… it burned in my very depths. No one had ever come close to making me feel what I felt for him.
He was my missing puzzle piece.
“Nope,” I finally concluded. “He’s sexy as sin and I like him, but he doesn’t come close to Jacob.”
“Aww, Jacob,” she teased.
“Please don’t start calling him that.”
“Oh, I believe you started it.”
“Great. He’ll kill me.”
Claudia laughed, coming to a stop outside her door. Her laughter melted into a smile. “Thanks for making me feel better.”
“You’re my family. I hurt when you hurt.”
Tears shimmered in her eyes. “Dude!” She shook her head as she unlocked her door. “This mascara is not waterproof!”
The door slammed shut in my face and I burst out laughing. “Good night, then!” I moved slowly to unlock my own door.
Once inside, I felt the butterflies come back to me with a vengeance. Fighting through the nerves, I hurried to set up my laptop on my desk, plugging into the hardline Internet connection. My Skype page opened and I sat on the narrow bed in front of my desk to wait.
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