Track 15: Side A

Let’s Drink Until You Love Me Again

 

Lincoln

I spring out of bed with a bounce in my step I’d long forgotten was possible and a smile on my face.

I find myself standing at the sink, looking out the back window at Jace’s cabin. We made progress last night, holding hands and looking up at the stars. I felt some of the ice between us melting. I just need to find a way to keep the momentum going. And sooner or later, he’s going to let me apologize. I just hope he accepts it.

I pour myself a cup of coffee once it’s finished brewing, more out of habit than out of need for caffeine this morning. I bounce around the kitchen whistling as I sip my coffee and try to gage if it’s too early to go to Jace’s.

I catch a glimpse of movement through his kitchen window and my smile widens. I set my coffee down in a hurry, the contents splashing over the edges and pooling on the counter around the mug. I don’t care; all I want is to see Jace.

I slip into my boots and pull on my coat this time and make my way across the yard to Jace’s.

I bang on the door, and when he pulls it open, Jace looks like he wants to punch me in the face. His jaw is set in a hard line, and his eyebrows are scrunched low over his moss green eyes. Even pissed off, he’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever set eyes on. My heart aches with how much I still love Jace, how much I’ve always loved him.

I reach for him unconsciously, and he bats my hand away.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he snaps.

I try to shake off the excited haze clouding my mind and take a step forward.

“Did I do something?”

“Aside from waking me up in the middle of the night and then show up at my place again at the crack of dawn?”

“You were already awake; I saw you in the kitchen,” I argue.

“Why are you watching my place? Lincoln, I can’t do this; it’s getting to be too much.”

“What is?” I ask, my heart sinking rapidly.

He takes several deep breaths, looking down at his bare feet. When he finally looks back up at me, he looks calmer, his face fixed into an unsettling mask.

“Nothing, it’s fine. I’m just tired and haven’t had enough coffee this morning. Did you need something, Linc?”

“No, I just wanted to see you.”

He nods, biting down on his bottom lip and keeping his gaze fixed over my shoulder as if he’s trying to avoid eye contact.

“Listen, I’m going to get some work done today, so…”

“Can we hang out later? You can swing by my place anytime you want.”

He rubs his forehead and then finally looks me in the face.

“Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll see you tonight.”

I resist the urge to kiss him or jump for joy. I’m making progress with him, I can feel it. He wants to hate me, he’s trying hard to keep hating me, but he’s struggling.

I head back to my cabin and straight for my guitar. I sit on my bed, plucking the strings until the sun starts to get low in the sky, not bothering to stop to eat or drink anything. I haven’t been this focused on music for a long time, it feels good.

On a whim, I set my guitar in my lap and call Benji. With my phone sandwiched between my shoulder and my ear, I pluck at the strings again while I wait for an answer.

“Hello?” Benji answers with amusement in his voice like he was laughing at something just before he picked up the phone.

“Hey, Benny.” His old nickname slips out without thought and hangs in the air for a second.

“Lincoln, how’re you doing?” he responds after a few seconds of likely trying to process why I just called him by a name I haven’t used in ten years.

“I’m good. Great, actually. Archer was right, this vacation was just what the doctor ordered.” I strum my guitar as I answer him. “You should see the snow here, it’s so pristine, not like the gray snow on the sidewalks in New York. The stars too, there’s so many of them. I’m so glad I came here, it’s so pure and perfect.”

“Slow down, man. You’re going a mile a minute, and are you actually playing your guitar? How long has it been since you’ve picked it up off-stage?”

“Ages,” I answer his question. “It feels good. I feel good.”

There’s another long silence, and I can practically hear the wheels turning in Benji’s mind.

“What’s going on, Lincoln?”

“What do mean? I feel good for a change, so something must be going on?” I challenge, feeling irritation creep over my skin at his accusation that something must be wrong with me.

“I didn’t mean it like that. This isn’t like you, that’s all. Is this like those times when you don’t sleep for a week, calling in the middle of the night with ideas for drum solos and shit, and then you crash hard when it’s all over?”

“Fuck you, I don’t do that,” I argue, my annoyance at him growing. Why’d I even bother to call him if all he was going to do was question me and make me feel like shit for being happy for one damn day in my life?

“Linc,” Benji sighs. “I’m worried about you, up at that cabin all alone.”

“But I’m not alone,” I counter. “Jace is here.”

This time the silence goes on so long, I wonder if Benji hung up on me.

“Jace is there?” he asks cautiously. “You haven’t taken any drugs or anything, have you?”

“No,” I bark at him. “It’s not an hallucination, asshole. Jace is here, next door. He’s staying at his family cabin through Christmas. We’ve been talking and hanging out a little bit. I think…I think I might have a chance to make things right.”

“And if you can’t make things right?” he asks quietly, his voice laced with concern. “What happens if you lose him all over again? I don’t think you can survive that.”

“No, I don’t expect I can,” I agree.

“Listen—”

“I have to get going. I’ll talk to you later.” I hang up before I can hear another word out of Benji’s mouth. His words planted a seed of doubt and fear in the garden of hope I’d been carefully cultivating over the past few days. I don’t need to hear about how badly everything could go.

At six o’clock, I get dressed in fresh clothes and wait for Jace.

He doesn’t bother to knock, just walks in a few minutes after six and goes to the refrigerator. The easy familiarity warms my chest.

“You have Capri Sun? What are you, twelve?” he teases, pulling out a juice pouch.

“I saw them and got nostalgic,” I explain defensively.

He pokes the straw through the hole and leans over with his elbows on the counter. His face only a few inches from mine. I watch with a painful ache in my chest as Jace absentmindedly sips at the pouch of Capri Sun. I want to drag him across the counter and kiss him senseless as the memory of our first kiss overwhelms me.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Jace asks, rolling the little yellow straw between his teeth.

“Like what?” I tease. It’s not difficult to guess how I was looking at him. A smile creeps onto my lips, taking me by surprise. When was the last time I smiled without making a conscious effort to do so?

“You know like what. Knock it off; you're creeping me out.”

“I was just remembering our first kiss,” I admit in a near whisper, my smile dropping.

“The one you blackmailed me into?” Jace raises an eyebrow at me, and my smile returns. It’s his ready for an argument face.

“I gave you your hat back before you kissed me,” I remind him.

Jace huffs. “That’s not the way I remember it.”

“We should go out to the bar and get drinks,” I suggest, needing a change of subject before I grab Jace and kiss him silly until he remembers exactly how much he used to love me.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “I hate to say it, but having a few drinks together sounds like fun.”

I roll my eyes at him dramatically.

“I hate to say it, but the thought of being around you doesn’t make me violently ill,” I mock, and he laughs. “I’ll drive,” I offer, and Jace veers toward my car without comment.

I allow myself a quick peek at his ass in his tight jeans as he trudges through the snow. I want to grab a handful and bury my face between his cheeks. But I know we’re nowhere near there yet.

We reach the only bar in town, and I park right out front, surprised to see a number of cars out here on a Wednesday night.

Inside, Jace offers to grab a table while I get drinks.

I slide onto a chair across the table from Jace and push a beer in his direction.

“I’ve never been in here before,” I muse as I sip my drink.

“I came in here a few days ago, my first night in town.”

“Really? What made you do that?” Jace doesn’t strike me as the bar fly type.

“It was the only place in town that didn’t remind me of you.”

Even before he saw me again, he was running from memories of me. Just like I’ve been chased around by ghosts of our past all these years.

“I thought you were so over me?” I tease, leaning forward and watching as his cheeks pink.

“I am.”

“Suuuure.”

“I hate you,” he mutters before taking a sip of his beer. I’m mesmerized by the way his tongue darts out to collect stray droplets from his lips.

“There’s a fine line between love and hate,” I point out, determined to press my luck.

“I’m sure there is.” Jace shakes his head, but he can’t hide the smile ghosting across his lips.

After the first round, I buy another.

“I was lying back at your house,” Jace admits when he’s halfway through the second pint.

“Oh?” I raise my eyebrows and wait for his confession.

“You didn’t force me to kiss you. I’d wanted to kiss you for ages before that.”

“Yeah, that’s how I remember it too,” I agree with a smirk.

“Why are you so insufferable?” he asks with a glare that lacks any real heat.

“Because you find me charming but you’re trying really hard not to?”

“No, I don’t think that’s it,” Jace deadpans.

“We’ll have to keep thinking about it then,” I suggest. “I played my guitar today,” I segue clumsily.

“Don’t you play your guitar every day?”

“Not anymore. Only when I’m on stage now.”

“Why?”

“Because everything hurts. And when it doesn’t hurt, it feels too numb to bother with anything. I don’t feel good very often,” I admit. I’m not sure why I’m telling him all this; it’s not exactly a ringing endorsement for the ‘date me again’ campaign.

“I’m sorry, Linc.” Jace reaches across the table and puts his hand on mine. I turn my hand over so our palms connect, and I blink away tears at the perfection of his hand in mine.

I buy a few more rounds and we keep away from the heavy topics for a while. Instead, we reminisce about all the schemes we used to come up with to sneak around behind our parents backs. I’m sure we weren’t as clever as we thought.

“I’d better slow down with the drinks,” Jace says, smiling and shaking his head, his cheeks pink from the beer.

“Why’s that?” I ask with a smirk, taking a sip of my own drink without releasing his hand.

“I shouldn’t be around you drunk. My common sense is already compromised when you’re here. If I drink too much, I might do something stupid like fall back in love with you.”

“In that case, I’d better get you a refill,” I tease, my heart jumping wildly at his sweet and slightly tipsy declaration.

“We should dance,” he decides, stumbling off his chair, clearly more drunk than either of us realized.

I spring up to catch him before he falls, not bothering to save his chair as it clatters loudly to the ground behind him.

“This isn’t really a dancing bar.”

He looks around and blinks like he’s just now realizing where he is—a grungy bar in the middle of nowhere Wisconsin, filled with nothing but middle-aged men drinking their lives away and a few townie twenty-somethings.

“Fine,” he sighs.

“Let’s go home, Freckles. We can dance there,” I suggest.

“Really?”

“Sure. If you want, I’ll even play something just for you.”

Jace’s eyes go wide, and he smiles.

“Shit, I’m already too drunk, and you’re being way too sweet for a man I’m supposed to hate forever.”

“I promise I won’t take advantage of your compromised state,” I assure him.              

 

Jace kicks out of his boots and drops his coat right by the front door when we get inside my cabin.

“We need music,” he declares, stumbling a little as he heads for the living room.

“You’re a lightweight,” I accuse with a chuckle, pulling my phone out of my pocket and pulling up Spotify. I pick a dance pop playlist and turn the volume up as loud as it’ll go.

“This is a good song,” Jace declares, putting his hands over his head and swaying his hips to the beat. I’m transfixed by his movements, every cell in my body demanding I pull him close, press my hips flush against his, and move together. It would be like foreplay, touching and grinding as we both grow hard. I’d get bold enough to steal a kiss, and Jace would melt into me, remembering all the beautiful things he used to feel for me. Everything would be repaired in a magical moment.

I know it’s a fantasy, and if I want Jace back, I have to earn it. No amount of dancing and kissing will magically make things right again. But that’s okay because I’m not afraid to work for it.

So, instead of dancing with him, I plop down on the couch and watch him enjoy himself. After he tires himself out dancing, Jace spots my guitar and turns to me with a smile.

“What are you going to play for me?”

“What do you want me to play?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs, wandering into my room and plopping down on my bed. My breath catches at the sight of him there. I grab my guitar and nudge his legs, so I can sit down too. And then I start strumming a song that may very well get me punched.

“You’re an asshole,” Jace mutters but makes no move to leave or hit me.

“I wasn’t trying to be an asshole; I just haven’t thought about this song in ages.”

The summer we started dating, “The Reason” by Hoobastank was huge, and Jace loved it. So, I learned to play it for him, and he said it was our song.

The lyrics are so much more accurate now than they ever were then. Either Jace was psychic, knowing it would be our song, or he just liked the beat back then, I don’t know. But my eyes lock onto his as I sing in a deep, raspy voice about being sorry and having a reason to change.

Jace tears his eyes away after the first verse and covertly wipes a tear from his cheek.

“I have to go,” he says abruptly. I’m starting to notice a pattern here.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, I’m just tired.” He waves me off, but his eyes are still shining with tears. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

I breathe a sigh of relief and nod.

“Night, Linc.”

“Night, Freckles.”