Текст книги "Crazy Beautiful"

Автор книги: Penny Dee

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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

Chapter Nineteen HEATH

There was nothing right with the world. That was my first thought when I woke up. But then I saw Harlow curled up beside me and the surge of grief receded briefly, until I remembered that she would be leaving soon too.

For a moment I let myself watch her sleep. For three days she hadn’t left my side and I had fallen deeper in love with her for it.

At first I’d been hesitant. Having her around but knowing she would leave was almost unbearable, but it was so much better than the alternative of not having her in my life at all.

She was my perfect fit. And I knew I would have to work out how to go on without her. But not until I’d dealt with Armie’s death and his funeral.

Which was today.

I climbed out of bed and took my time as I showered. Today was going to be one of the hardest days of my life. Today I would bury one of my best friends and the thought punched a massive hole in my heart.

Under the warm spray I let myself remember back to when we were kids, back to when life was simple. When life was about getting out of chores to ride your bike down to the Pier and meet up with your friends. When the afternoon was heavy with the smoky aroma of dinner being cooked on the backyard barbeque. When your friends came around and you snuck beers from your dad’s cooler and drank them on the sandy beach as the sun went down. When your dream of being in a band was just that … a dream.

What I’d give to go back …

In my memories it was always summer time and the days were bright with sunshine and the salty tang of a warm sea breeze. They were carefree days, when adulthood was something we chased and wanted just so we could stay out after dark, drink beer and get laid. Because back then, when we were kids, being an adult seemed like one big party.

In my memories, it would always be the five of us.

In my memories, Armie would always be smiling.

Armie and me … we had wandered these streets as kids, looking for ways to occupy our young minds. Then our two had become three with Jesse, then four and five with Tommy and Zack. By the age of twelve, we were already a band.

Now our five was to become four when we buried our friend.

I let go of the wall that contained my grief and let the tears fall. I rubbed my hands to my eyes and let my face crumple.

Yeah. What I’d give to go back …

I drew in a deep breath and moaned. The tears needed to stop. I had to get it together. Pull my shit together and get through today.

I had no idea what lay beyond today. None whatsoever.

I just had to get through this.

Just. Get. Through. This.

* * * * *

It was a bright Fall day. The blue sky was a clear arc above us, the sun warm on our backs. As we stared at Armie’s coffin waiting to descent into his final resting place, the preacher spoke about great men and the footprints they left behind.

To control my tears and the urge to sob, I focused on the purple stole the preacher wore around his neck. I missed Armie. I missed him so bad. And to think I would never see him again. No! I sucked in a deep breath. I wouldn’t fall apart now.

Jesse stood to my left and Harlow to my right. Her fingers curled around mine. I could feel her stoicism radiating off her rigid body as she stood so straight and so strong beside me.

As they lowered Armie’s coffin into the ground, my heart finally broke and I faltered. Kelsey’s sobs were my undoing. I put my hands to my face and let my tears fall freely.

Why hadn’t I told Armie to get off the road?

Why did I have to leave right at that moment? A few minutes later and Armie would still be alive.

I ached to go back in time and change the course of events.

Harlow looked up at me and squeezed my hand. Her eyes were full of tears.

“You can do this,” she whispered and despite the pain ricocheting across my chest, I knew she was right. I could do this. I would get through this.

I didn’t have any other choice.

* * * * *

HARLOW

I wouldn’t have blamed him if he’d wanted to drink himself into oblivion. Hell, I wanted to.

But he didn’t touch a drop. Even as his friends, including Jesse, sank into the amber depths of their bourbon bottles, Heath didn’t touch a single drop of alcohol.

“I do stupid shit when I drink,” he reminded me regretfully.

Armie’s parents held the wake at his grandparents’ home in Bellflower. The old timber and stone home brimmed to overflowing with close friends of Armie and the band. Heath spent a lot of time with Armie’s family, talking about old times and the crazy things Armie would do. He would laugh that infectious laugh of his, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Outwardly he was broad and strong, while inwardly he was breaking apart.

Much later, when the sun began to set, he found me on the porch. His face was sad.

“I need to be away from it all,” he whispered.

We left at dusk and without a word I returned to his house with him.

He stood in the half light of his room, his shoulders hunched, his big hands covering his face. He looked so handsome in his suit pants and black tailored shirt. The skull ring on his left hand was bright in the dull light.

“Should I go?” I asked. “Do you want to be alone?”

He looked at me, heartbroken. Pain etched his face and he shook his head. “No. Please don’t go.”

I ran him a bath and together we sank into it. Candlelight shone on the porcelain tiles. I sat behind him amongst the bubbles and he leaned back into me, his head falling against my shoulder.

“I don’t know where to go from here.”

“Forward.” I said.

“I know. I just don’t know how we’re going to do it.”

I gently caressed his bare shoulder. It was slippery with water and bubbles.

“Just put one foot in front of the other. Day by day.”

He was quiet for a moment. Then his head relaxed against my chest and he ran his fingers down his face.

“I feel I’ve lost my right hand and I don’t know how the band with survive without him. I was talking to the guys today, and we don’t know if we should keep going or not.”

I thought for a moment as my fingers swept up and down the length of his muscular arms.

“Bands have kept going after the death of a band member. Metallica. ACDC. Avenged Sevenfold. Ozzy went on after Randy died.”

“But some don’t. Look at Zeppelin.”

I wrapped my arms around the broad expanse of his chest and held him tight. “I’m not sure, but I suspect they didn’t make any major decisions on the night of their friend’s funeral.”

I felt him close his eyes and for the first time in days, felt him relax.

“You’re right. It’s too soon.” His strong fingers curled around my wrists and he sighed.

“Where do you think we go? When we die?” He asked.

“I don’t know. I like the idea of reincarnation, so we all get another chance. But at the same time, I like to think that our loved ones are waiting for us when it’s time to go.”

He drew in a deep breath to control his emotion, but his voice broke as he asked, “Where do you think Armie is?”

I felt him tremble against me and I held him just a little bit tighter.

“With Hendrix, Randy and Dimebag somewhere.” I whispered, my lips brushing against his ear.

Later, we towelled off and slipped into bed. Without a word he pulled me into his arms and held me against his warm body. His big hands cupped my jaw as he kissed me.

“Please,” he whispered into the darkness, “just for tonight … one last night … please just make it right.”

He rolled me onto my back and was between my thighs in a breath. Without hesitating he pushed into me, and a sigh escaped him as he pressed his hips to mine.

He took it slow, his hands whispering along the length of my body, his lips moving rhythmically across mine as he kissed me so deeply I could feel it through to my very core.

Shadows danced on the ceiling and the bedroom wall next to us as we moved in perfect symphony. There was no need for words. We were just two bodies moving together in the darkness. Desperate for pain relief. Chasing some kind of brief respite through our physical pleasure. We sighed, our breaths deep and lazy.

Sometime during the early hours he fell into a deep and peaceful sleep. His beautiful long lashes fanned his cheeks and his body relaxed into the bed. But he didn’t move from my arms. If I tried to disentangle myself from him he would only pull me closer.

Somewhere in those dark hours it all became clear. Looking down upon his beautiful face all the reasons to stay away from him became so utterly unimportant.

The only thing that mattered was how he felt about me. And he loved me. I knew that. It was there in every look, every word, every touch … and I had turned my back on him for fucking it up when, really, it was forgivable. He hadn’t set out to hurt me. It had been one big clusterfuck and it was time to move on from it.

I wasn’t prepared to live without him a moment longer. He was mine. And I was all his. I always had been. From the moment he leapt off that stage and asked me my name.

I loved him.

Completely.

And I forgave him.

Completely.

I. Was. His.

For the first time in days he had relaxed into a deep, restful sleep. His body was warm, pressed against me, and the heaviness of his muscular bulk was comforting.

I wondered if I should wake him up and tell him that I thought we should be together; if it wasn’t too late. If I hadn’t pushed him too far away.

But he looked so exhausted, even in his slumber. He needed to sleep. To rest his tortured mind.

I would tell him tomorrow. Tell him how much I loved him. And that we belong together.

“I love you,” I whispered into the stillness of the shadows.

His body was infinite warmth beside me and I felt more content and safer than I had in a long time.

Sleep came as the moonlight disappeared from the room and settled me in darkness. My body finally relaxed and I was pulled into a deep and heavy slumber.

When I awoke, sunlight warmed the room with its white light through the curtains. I blinked, my mind slowly coming to life. I reached for him but found only an empty space in the bed beside me.

I was alone.

Heath was gone.

He had left a note on my bedside table.

If I had stayed I would never be able to let you go. I know you are right. We are better as friends. Thank you for helping me find peace with it. Goodbye my H-bomb. Your friend, Heath.

I sat frozen and re-read it several times, trying to process it. Trying to make sense of his words. It was goodbye. Heath was letting me go.

And it was the last fucking thing I wanted.

But what did I expect? I had pushed him away. I had spent the last month telling him I could never forgive him. Telling him to leave me alone. Because I was hurt and mad, and … goddamn it … what a fucking mess.

I didn’t want to cry but I did. Because he was gone. And I had made him go away. I had made him think we were better as friends. And now he believed it. Because I was young and stupid and one giant pain in the ass!

Last night had been his goodbye.

I slumped back into the spot where not so long ago he had been sleeping. His smell lingered in the sheets. Warm and clean. And the familiar scent of him induced another bout of tears, and I squashed his pillow over my face to muffle my sobs.

What. Had. I. Done?

I wanted to ring him. To tell him I was wrong. That I had fucked up. That I was still batshit crazy about him. That I didn’t want to go back to Georgia and my shitty, shitty life. That my home was … fuck, my home was wherever the hell he was …

But his letter … Thank you for helping me find peace with it.

If I said anything now it would confuse him. Upset him. Send his world further into a tailspin. It wouldn’t be fair on him. Now wasn’t the right time. He had just lost his best friend. It was about Armie now. Not some stupid teenage girl who couldn’t see the forest for the trees.

No. I had made my choice and now I had to live with it.

Even if that meant living without him.

Chapter Twenty HARLOW

It was two days before I saw him again. On my last night in California.

Fat Tony had organized a surprise farewell dinner at the Pizza Palace. My eyes welled with tears as I walked in and saw everyone there waiting for me. They were all there for me, to help me celebrate my last night in California. Fat Tony. Leo. Bridget. Coralee. Nikki. Piper. Jesse. Zack. Tommy.

Heath.

He sat down the other end of the table from me, relaxed and calm. Any residual sadness that I occasionally caught on his beautiful face wasn’t because of me. It was over Armie. And he did an amazing job at keeping it in check. Although when he smiled, it never quite reached his eyes. Apparently he had spent the last two days with his brothers up in the family cabin at Arcadia. Piper said he’d rung Jesse and said, “Fuck it, we have to keep going. Let’s do it for Armie.” And the band was due to start working on their album in the next week.

Tonight he barely acknowledged me but when he did, he smiled and it was warm, but it lacked everything we had once shared.

I smiled back at him, my heart aching and longing for him to love me again. But he didn’t. Not anymore. I could see that. From across the table. He didn’t love me anymore because I had told him not to. And he never once tried to catch my eye. And I never caught him stealing a look in my direction.

Heath had gone and done what I had asked him to do. No. What I had demanded he do. He had moved on.

It took all my energy to hide my misery. Up until Heath’s note I hadn’t truly believed I was going back to Georgia. But I was. And my Californian adventure had come to an end. Just like Heath and I.

I sucked in a deep breath trying to fill my heavy chest with oxygen. I smiled brightly and exhaled deeply to shake off the pain.

It was then I heard the song playing in the jukebox. ‘I Want Her’ by Blind Truth. The song Piper had insisted Heath sing at karaoke. Which he had sung to me in that glorious, raspy voice. I know what’s best and I confess that I want her …

The memory was like a horse-kick to the chest and I couldn’t stop my eyes from flicking across the table towards him.

He recognized the song too and his sparkling eyes found mine. He winked, raised his glass and smiled. I forced myself to smile back and nod, as if my heart wasn’t breaking over and over again with every damn minute that passed.

But the moment was over just as quickly as it had begun. He looked away and continued talking to Jesse, and didn’t glance back at me. Just like that. It was all over. He didn’t look sad. He didn’t look nostalgic. He looked … okay.

I swallowed deeply. I could barely stand it any longer.

“Okay, okay, time for the guest of honor to bestow us all with a speech!” Bridget insisted.

Suddenly, everyone was looking at me and encouraging me to make a speech. I hated being the center of attention and usually did what I could to avoid it. But that wasn’t going to happen thanks to my insistent cousin and Leo. I threw back a shot of tequila that Leo put in front of me. The tequila burned my throat and chest on the way down and my insides lit up.

It took me a moment to collect myself before I could speak.

“Where do I start?” I breathed, nervously.

“How about with how awesome your fellow colleagues and friends are. Namely me,” Leo heckled.

I smiled. “Well that is true. For sure.” My eyes swept across the faces of my new friends and I couldn’t stop the sadness from passing over my expression. “You have all been such an important part in making my time here … brilliant. Each and every one of you.” I looked at them all, except Heath, because it hurt too much to look at him. “I had no idea what I was going to see and do when I came to California for the summer. I just knew something amazing was going to happen. And boy,” I exhaled deeply, and smiled, “did it ever. I have had the most extraordinary five months here and it’s all because of the people sitting around this table. Each one of you has helped to make this an adventure … one I will never forget … and I thank you, I thank you all so very much.”

“Don’t forget us, H.” Jesse raised his glass and everyone followed suit. “To Harlow … we will miss you.”

Piper jumped up and threw her arms around my neck. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

“The Palace isn’t going to be the same without you, sweet thing,” Coralee said, her large plastic earrings swinging as she spoke.

“You remember you gotta job here any time. Got it, kid?” Fat Tony patted my shoulder.

“Are you sure you’ve got to leave?” Leo asked quietly as he hugged me, “I’ve heard education is totally over-rated you know.”

“Yeah, but I heard it helps avoid law suits if you actually practice medicine with a degree and a license.”

He pouted. “Well I’ve heard Georgia is nice in the spring. Maybe I’ll come for a visit.”

I grinned. “You’d better.”

My heart stalled when Heath appeared in front of me.

“Listen, I have to go. We start in the studio tomorrow, so there’s a few things I need to do—”

“Of course.” I smiled but it was awkward. So was the hug he gave me.

When he stood back, his eyes finally found mine. “Thanks,” he said.

“What for?”

He smiled softly. “We sure had some fun, huh?”

I licked my lips to stop my damn chin from quivering, and nodded. Despite the agony in my chest, I smiled brightly. “We sure did.”

He went to say something else but stopped himself. Instead, he smiled resignedly. “Well, I guess this is goodbye, then.”

I nodded.

“Take care Harlow.” He grinned, all white teeth and dimples.

And then he turned and walked out of my life.

* * * * *

HEATH

Not once.

Not one fucking time.

During her entire speech, not once did she look at me.

Those beautiful eyes of hers cast over everyone there except me. Like I had been just a small, insignificant moment in her life.

She avoided looking at me.

We are over. So why not look me in the eye? I’m doing exactly what she asked me to do and still it’s not good enough for her.

I thrust my fists into the bag, harder and harder. Thump! Thump!

We have moved on. Just like she wanted. I had deliberately avoided any unnecessary glances at her direction just to prove to her that I was over her. That I was okay with our relationship being over. What more could I do? I don’t phone her. I don’t ask about her. I don’t contact her. I haven’t done anything but move on. I fucked up. I get it. But goddamn it. Why wouldn’t she look at me?

Thump! Thump! Thump!

I know I should be grateful that she even acknowledged me after what I did to us. But goddamn it, how long am I going to have to pay for it? It made it easier to understand why we are moving on from one another. But I thought we were at least going to be friends.

I had left Fat Tony’s with a swift goodbye not long after her speech. Hell, I think I even patted her on the back as I gave her a quick farewell hug. But I had to get out of there before I cracked and fell apart.

It was all still too raw. Harlow. Armie. My head was a fucking mess. I’d hung in there for as long as possible but felt myself begin to unravel when that fucking song came on the jukebox. I just can’t shake this fantasy … that I want her.

So I left and hit the gym, hard. I didn’t want to think about her anymore. I didn’t want the reminder that tomorrow she’d be leaving California and turning her back on me for good. She would resume her old life back home in Savannah. Go to college. Get back with Colton. Probably get married and have a family with him. It wouldn’t take long and I would become nothing but a faded memory to her.

I shoved the boxing bag away from me and slumped against the wall. My skin was slick with sweat and my heart thundered against my chest as I tried to calm my breathing. I didn’t want it to be over. Goddamn it. I was so crazy in love with her I could barely see straight.

Everything was falling apart around me. I slipped to the floor and my head fell back against the wall. Armie was gone. Dead. And tomorrow Harlow would board a plane to Georgia.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

“Please stay,” I whispered into nowhere.

But I knew there was no hope. Tomorrow she would leave. Because even after all this time—after all the apologies, after everything—Harlow didn’t want me anymore.

* * * * *

HARLOW

God was mocking me. To signal the sad end to my Californian adventure, he made my last day a cold, uncharacteristically cloudy, grey day.

To make it worse, I think I woke up with a cold.

With a little bit of PMS thrown in for good measure.

I packed my bags with absolutely no enthusiasm. I didn’t want to leave. But it was time to move on. College would be starting soon and I had a life to resume in Savannah.

To make myself feel better I grabbed my iPod and hit shuffle. When ‘Dreamweaver’ by Gary Wright came on I sat back on my bed and looked out the little window to the beach in the distance. My heart sagged low in my chest. Grey clouds gathered over a bleak ocean and suddenly everywhere seemed completely devoid of warmth and sunlight.

Summer was well and truly over.

I stood up and hit stop play. It was time to go.

“Let me get my keys,” Bridget said as I stood by the front door with my suitcases and carry-on bag.

As she looked for her keys I glanced around the little apartment I had called home for the last five months and wished desperately my summer was just beginning, and not ending. How was it possible for my life to have changed so much in such a short amount of time?

I wished I could transport myself back in time to the old Harlow when she arrived for the summer. She’d had no idea just what a brilliant summer lay ahead of her. Would I change any of it? Yes, I would make sure I appreciated every moment just that little bit more.

“Ready?” Bridget asked, appearing with her keys.

I nodded but she paused and fixed me with those knowing Montmarte eyes. “Are you sure?”

Feeling my face stiffen with unshed tears, I looked away. With a nod I bent to pick up my carry-on. “Of course. Let’s go.”

She opened the front door but closed it suddenly and swung around. “You still love him, don’t you?”

“What?” I asked startled.

“Heath. You’re still in love with him, aren’t you?”

Now my face well and truly threatened to crumple. Damn it!

“Don’t go without telling him,” she said, looking me directly in the eye. “Don’t leave without letting him know exactly how you feel.”

“It’s time to go home, Bridge.”

She shook her head and then looked up at me. “At least let me take you past his house to say a final farewell. He at least deserves that, doesn’t he?”

“He is over it. He is fine. He said goodbye to me last night with a pat on the back.” I adjusted my carry-on over my shoulder feeling a jolt of disappointment at the memory. “He said his final farewell to me a long time ago.”

I’m not sure if it was a last ditch effort to break me into staying, but Bridget drove slowly to the airport. She took the longest route possible. And it was torture. Taking in the sights that had become home to me for the last five months. The beach. The Pier. Fat Tony’s Pizza Palace. And Epic—where I had first laid eyes on a performing Heath.

“Bridge.” My eyes filled with tears behind sunglasses.

“Yes?” She turned to me hopefully.

“I don’t want to miss my flight.”

She looked defeated, but nodded and put her foot down.

When we made it to the airport, my flight was boarding.

Bridge hugged me tightly at the gate.

“I’m going to miss you so much,” she said, holding me tight. I didn’t want to let her go and my face was so frozen with sadness I was afraid it would shatter. “You come back to me whenever you want. There is always a room for you.”

We broke apart and my eyes scanned the airport. Searching for what? Did I really think he was going to show up to say goodbye? Really?

Really…?

“I will, I promise. I will come back soon.” I kissed her and hoped the bright smile I wore was convincing. “You helped give me the most amazing time of my life, Bridge. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

I swallowed the hard lump in my throat. “I’ll see you soon, I promise.”

With that, I turned and boarded my flight, and with a heavy heart I left California and the most incredible summer behind me.