Chapter 4
Old Haunts ~ Gray
2012
Slipping my hand beneath my boxers, I adjusted my morning wood as my eyes scrolled over the picturesque view of budding dawn on the horizon over the Atlantic Ocean. Opening the sliders, I stepped out onto the veranda. Seven years. It had been a long time, too long since I’d set foot on my old stomping ground of Miami again. I had many fond memories of my two years as a student on the South Shore. Those memories both warmed my heart and made it ache in equal measure.
After signing with Hot Palms, they’d set up a whole promotion package for CraVed. We’d taken a late flight down from New York for the start of phase one of the PR plan. The executive sedan drove me past so many familiar sights I’d left behind all those years ago, instilling a sense of melancholy in me.
As we drove along Ocean Drive I fought to push back the thought of my last day in Miami from before. Extending my head, I closed my eyes and let the warmth of the tropical sunshine hit my pale face. Breathing deeply, the combination of heat and the warmth in my veins brought an image from the last time I’d seen the one girl I knew I’d never forget—Hettie.
Taking a seat on the balcony, I allowed myself a rare reminder of the last night I’d spent with her. It still bothered me the way I’d said goodbye when I left. I’d thought it was for the best. Over the years, and often when I least expected it, something would trigger a memory of her. Such was the impact of the five magical weeks we’d spent together. Sometimes, late at night, my mind flitted to her, wondering how her life was and if she was happy. That usually led to me wondering where she was now, and what she was doing. Maybe those thoughts weren’t that rare after all.
Unpleasant feelings still affected me whenever I imagined her likely reaction, and how she must have felt when I’d taken the cowardly way out and said my goodbye via text message. I didn’t have to use my imagination much to know what that would have done to her. My immature action at the time still haunted me.
The last night; the night when I couldn’t get enough of her, I made a memory of our time to take to my grave before we fell asleep. As if a silent alarm had gone off in my head that morning back then, my eyes opened as the dawn was breaking and for a second I lay there wondering if I really could walk away from her. Lying on my side, I perched up on my elbow, resting my head in my hand for a better view of the beautiful girl sleeping peacefully beside me.
Unfamiliar feelings pulled at my chest and my heart ached watching her bare chest steadily rise and fall. She lay there in a deep sleep, innocent and trusting; on her back with her hands above her head. Beautiful, so beautiful. A lump formed in my throat but I couldn’t give in to the sadness because that would have made me stay a while longer.
Hanging around wasn’t in either of our plans. That fact helped me to roll over, and rise gently from the bed. Gathering my clothes, I headed into the bathroom. As soon as I’d cleaned myself down with a couple of towels, I pulled on my jeans and T-shirt, slipped on my shoes, and being as quiet as possible I went back into the room. Fear tightened my chest that she would be awake, so I was relieved when I glanced over to see she was still out like a light. My draw toward her was so strong I was almost tempted to take one last kiss. I fought the urge to do that.
Tiptoeing gingerly, I’d held my breath, squinting with one eye as I pulled her room door toward me and tried hard for the hinge not to creak. Closing it tightly behind me, I sighed before I turned and slipped quietly out of her dorm like a silent stalker, and walked away feeling miserable.
We were supposed to meet later that morning, but I knew it was over. Once I had left I knew I couldn’t have faced her again that day. If I had, and she’d cried the way she had during that night, I don’t think I would have gone home.
A relationship was not an option. We were going our separate ways, and I’d never been anyone’s boyfriend before, but I had developed strong feelings for Hettie. Feelings I couldn’t easily define, but one’s which had made me reluctant to go home. We knew our future wasn’t rosy from the beginning, so I’d bailed, probably making her hate me, but I had felt it was the best thing to do. I wasn’t sure now who it had been best for.
Once I’d made it back to England I was miserable for months, but with the distraction of my music, the band, and our first short tour, I’d learned to live with my bruised and battered mind. After a time, the misery of her loss became less painful. After Hettie, it had taken years to feel some of what I’d had with her with someone else. Some of those feelings I had for her, I felt for another girl, Lizzie, but never all of them.
Occasionally, I wondered if she still remembered me and I wondered what happened to her. And as I stood staring over the ocean once again it came to me again. Did she have a husband and family? My jaw clenched at the thought, and I felt guilty the second a warm, smooth hand slid around my shoulder. “Morning, rock star.” Phoebe’s soft, husky voice cut into my thoughts.
“Morning, sweetheart,” I said, pulling her onto my lap. She leaned her head on my shoulder while I slipped my hands around her waist and fell into an easy silence. I stared out at a small, white boat in the distance while the sun rose in the sky catching the waves, throwing off shimmering glints of silver as they broke. Breathing deeply, I took the humid Miami heat into my lungs.
“Song’s being aired today, right? You’ve got a good feeling about this, yeah?” she asked, quietly.
“Yeah, I’m nervous. It’s going to get heavy airtime, four replays a day on most radio stations for the next few weeks. We’ve only got two more days to get our breath back before the interviews start. Two whole days off.” I stated, looking on the bright side. “I figured we’d grab some R & R, a little vitamin D then meet with the guys on Sunday night before the relentless promo and hard work begins. Meanwhile I gotta work on my tan, sweetheart. I need to look my best to attract new fans.”
Phoebe pushed off my chest, lifting her head up to meet my gaze with a grin. “You’re gonna rock this city. Hell, you’re gonna rock the whole US. They’ll be eating out of the palm of your hand once you switch that charm on,” she said, with genuine conviction. “Look at you, what’s not to like.”
“We are,” I stated, categorically, reminding her it was about the band and not just me. Failure wasn’t an option since we had finally cracked the door open stateside.
The timing of my band’s breakthrough couldn’t have been worse. Eleven weeks ago, my… Lizzie, died suddenly. A brain aneurysm claimed her two days before her twenty-eighth birthday. Everyone regarded her as my girlfriend but I’m not even sure that’s what she was.
Guilt had plagued me ever since because in the weeks before she died she’d been ‘off’ for want of a better word. Snappy and tired, complaining of headaches, sickness, and foul tempered with me all the time. Nothing I did was ever the right thing. I was relieved the night she said we weren’t working out, but the following morning when I found her unconscious on the floor beside the bathroom door, I knew what was going on was no fainting fit.
The specialist doctors at the hospital dropped the bombshell while she was in ICU. I stayed with her until the end, even holding her hand as she passed away peacefully in her sleep.
For five weeks after she died, it had freaked me out. I was a mess. Drinking too much, sleeping too much, vegetating in front of my big ol’ flat screen TV with a six pack, while I tried not to fall into despair about her passing. We were never forever, I’d argue we were never really together. Nevertheless, I still grieved her loss in my own way. It was Phoebe that dragged me back to the land of the living.
Fingertips tracing lightly over each line of my abs drew me out of my daydream. “Get showered and dressed, we’re going out to breakfast,” I said, catching her fingers in my hand. The last thing I wanted was sex with Phoebe while Lizzie and Hettie filled my head. Pheebs and I were nothing serious, but when we were drunk I had mentioned flying down to New York and in a moment of weakness she’d asked if she could tag along and foolishly I had agreed. She was a good girl though; no drama and we had a connection of sorts, so I had seen no harm in allowing her to tag along.
****
Forty minutes after my decision to go out, we walked casually, hand in hand, toward the small diner that had been my second home when I was in college. I basked in the fact I was still able to walk freely without anyone recognizing me in Miami. Being in a band brought fame and wealth but we sold our right to privacy as far as the public were concerned. At that point our fame hadn’t quite reached the US yet with CraVed, and on that particular morning, I was thankful for that.
Stepping inside the restaurant, a sharp, cold blast of air conditioning beat down on my head. It always felt weird to walk into cool temperatures and out to the heat, especially when in the UK it was the other way around. Being almost lunchtime, the place was pretty packed. The waitress guided us right to the booth at the end. As I glanced at it my head filled with a vision from another time in the exact same booth; of Hettie, grinning up at me with her back to the window, her short, dark curly hair framing her beautiful face as my eyes stared, mesmerized by that sexy smile and those bedroom, almond-shaped, big, brown eyes of hers.
My heart ached with the memory, my soul unsettled from the restless feeling of missing her. The yearning to see her again was the strongest I’d felt it since the early days when I’d left. I tried to shake it off as I slid into the seat and glanced at Phoebe who sat opposite. For a split second, she became invisible.
Everything around me overwhelmed me like some weird head rush of memories. The tables, faux red leather seating, the smells in the diner, even the Beach Boys soundtrack was the same. Phoebe’s face came back into focus, and I realized, only the girl facing me wasn’t the same.
“What’s the matter?”
Phoebe was peering over her menu with a crease at her brow.
“I’ve been here before. It’s just shaken some memories loose,” I replied, honestly, my voice sounded a little flat.
“Whoever it was, she’s a lucky girl,” she replied. Sometimes it freaked me out that Phoebe was so intuitive.
“What do you mean?”
“You look like someone just told you they’d thrown your cat under a bus.”
“That bad, huh?”
“Lost love?”
“No, not love, but someone I cared about.”
“Want to talk about it?” For a second I did, then I thought it might be bad form to talk to a girl I was fucking, about her not comparing to the one I had let go a long time ago.
“Nah, there’s no point,” I said in resignation.
“It’s okay, Gray, I know we’re not…” Gesturing aimlessly with her hand for the word, I smiled at her.
“Well, we are, but we’re not pulling heartstrings, right?” I asked, seeking clarification.
“Yeah. Not pulling heartstrings, sounds much more romantic than fuck buddies,” she agreed.
Neither of us noticed the waitress that stood next to the table. Clearing her throat, she squeaked out, in a nasally, sweet voice, “Are you ready to order?” She looked about thirteen but was probably about eighteen. Her face was crimson colored from having heard our conversation. Phoebe was a wicked tease and as soon as she saw the flame in her cheeks she built on that embarrassment.
“May I have a regular ice tea, chili cheese fries, and a stack of onion rings. Umm…I’m not sure what my fuck buddy wants. Are you ready, hon?” I swear if I had have been eating or drinking at that precise moment I’d have choked.
“Bacon burger, fries, slaw and a beer,” I offered, without looking up from the menu. I smirked as I listened while the waitress checked the order back before sashaying back in the direction of the kitchen looking dazed. Phoebe cleared her throat and I smirked while looking back at her with a mock scowl.
“That was fucking naughty,” I scolded, my grin widening.
“I am naughty. Isn’t that why you brought me?”
“True,” I said, grabbing the salt shaker and grinding some salt. Phoebe took the shaker from my hand and replaced it in the condiments tray.
“What was her name?”
“Who? The waitress?” I asked, pretending I had no idea what she was talking about and gave her a puzzled look.
“No, stupid, the ghost…the girl that is stealing your attention from me.”
“Sorry, am I bothering you?” I asked.
“Nope, spill.”
“Hettie Lawson. Sweet college girl, sassy, cute…amazing.”
“So, she was okay. Let’s find her flaws, I think that’ll help. Did she pick her nose, fart in the bath, talk with her mouth full?”
“Last time I saw her with her mouth full my cock was in her throat. So yeah, you could say she ate with her mouth open. Best head I ever had.”
“I think that was a little too much information, Gray. And I think Caleb would disagree there,” Phoebe smirked knowingly as she glanced up in time to see the waitress arrive with our drinks.
“Thank you, honey,” she gushed, lifting both drinks from the tray and setting my beer down beside me. “Sounds like unfinished business to me.” Phoebe took some fries dripping with chili and cheese, and stuffed them into her mouth. She wiped her lips with the paper napkin. Pheebs looked sexy when she ate and I enjoyed watching her doing that for a moment before I answered.
“Oh, it was definitely finished. I left.”
“It was your decision to end things?”
“Not exactly. We met at the wrong time. A few weeks before the end of my college time here. I was heading back to the UK, and she was following her own dreams of teaching science to high school kids. Worlds apart not only in distance, but in our life plans as well.”
“Ah, that explains the song, “Teach Me”. It’s about her? She’s the girl in the song?”
Looking directly at Phoebe, I hesitated at how much of my personal history I was sharing. I decided we were cool, and I felt I could trust her. I nodded yes, slowly, gauging her reaction, carefully. She appeared not to care.
“And you never heard from her again?”
“Not since the day I bailed.”
“You ran out on her?”
“Kinda, yeah. But…it was more…complicated than that.”
“Complicated, how?”
“I guess we tried to do no strings and ended up with a whole ball of yarn.”
“Ah. So instead of fun it became tangled?”
“Not tangled. I think there were some feelings on both sides, we just never aired them. For the last two weeks there was an elephant in the room that sat shitting in the corner while we completely ignored the stink.”
Giggling at my analogy, Phoebe shook her head. “And that was how long ago? Five years?”
“Six…over six years, seven next month, actually, but God, it feels like yesterday now I’m here again.”
“So find her. She may have handbag leather skin from the sun now and won’t look half as good as you remember, Gray.” Playing with her straw between her finger and thumb, Phoebe lifted the glass and wrapped her tongue around the straw. She pulled it between her lips and sucked until she’d drained it and ice rattled in the glass. She signaled the waitress again.
“Gonna take my advice?” she prompted when she brought her attention back to me.
I shrugged, inhaling deeply. I wanted to. I’ll admit the thought of trying to find her; about seeing her again, excited me. But did I want to go back? Would she? Maybe she was madly in love by now or had kids even. My heart fell to my stomach when that thought crossed my mind. Why go after something that had been a perfect moment? Something I had walked away from. There was no doubt in my mind about how pissed she’d have been to have received my text. Hell, I’d have been pissed to have been on the receiving end of that.
“Could be opening a whole can of worms,” I stated.
“Could be the best single thing you ever do for yourself too,” she countered. “Look, all I know is that since the moment we stepped off the plane here in Miami you’ve been this brooding, moody, guy with thoughts that are miles away. I mean you have never allowed me to sleep in your bed, yet last night you did, not forgetting the fact that you never touched me last night…or this morning, but it makes sense now.”
“What does?”
“You still love her. Being here has opened old wounds. That’s why I’m saying find her. Give yourself, and her, the closure you didn’t when you ran away with your tail between your legs.”
“I never loved her. I’ve never been in love. Finding her sounds easy when you say it, but she’s probably got a whole different life to the one we lived back then.”
“Life is only as complicated as you want to make it, Gray. If you’re feeling this bad, and man, let me tell you, I’ve never seen you look as miserable as you have since you came into this diner…You either put it to bed by finding out what the deal is with her, or you let it slide completely. Hanging onto the past will never allow you to be truly happy in the future. You never know, she may be a lonely singleton with a cat.”
Visualizing Hettie as a lonely cat woman made me smile. “Never. She was full of fun, sassy, and smart. She may have wanted to teach, but she was hot as fuck.” I stopped and remembered what Phoebe was to me, and wondered for a second if what I said hurt her.
“What’s that look for? You think it bothers me…you talking about her? Think again, Gray. You and me, we’re just having fun. I don’t want to have your babies or anything. I’m not the settling down kind, and if Brody wasn’t married, I’d throw you over and I’d drop my drawers for him in a heartbeat.”
I chuckled heartily at her comment. She told me she fantasized about his cock after he got drunk and skinny dipped in the hotel pool during one of our more outrageous after-parties. His Apadravya piercing drove women wild.
“See, there’s the guy I want to fuck. That cheeky, sexy smile that reaches his eyes, the guy who looks like he’s the life and soul of the party. The smile that makes me wet and all words pointless,” she said, circling her index finger around my face. When she made me conscious of it, it felt unfamiliar and I knew she was right. I wasn’t aware I hadn’t moved on but I knew I hadn’t smiled much since we’d touched down in Florida. Phoebe was right. I felt hesitant about attempting to touch base with the past, but I accepted she could be right. Maybe exorcizing the ghost of Hettie would free my mind and let me move on.