Here I stand, just seconds separating us, in shock as my door slams closed, automatically locking with a thud. The last kiss he’ll ever give me? The last kiss he’ll ever give me!

His egotism is exasperating.

The nerve of him swooping in here and kissing me like I was the one who wanted it. He took it without my permission. It was him… clearly. And now I’ve been rendered speechless while my lips continue to tingle even after he’s gone.

The one thing I didn’t count on when I was planning this trip was how I would feel about Dex. Sure, I’d let a million scenarios play out in my head, but they were ones based on harsher realities. When I saw him, all of those thunderous emotions weakened. I had somehow forgotten how handsome he was or that he has this innate ability to win people over with just his smile. The boy is gifted and no heart stands a chance against him. Obviously, I’m no different. Compound that with his nerve to threaten me with kisses or lack thereof and my mood sours.

Frustrated, I fist my hands and go to my computer to look up flights. Screw this! I don’t need this added headache, this added heartache. Tommy can get any additional contracts signed. For my own sanity, I need to get the hell out of here.

A knock matching the last one sounds out and I stomp my way over. I glare at the back of the wood door gathering my anger together and ready to direct it at Dex. I swing the door wide open and spew, “How dare you—”

“How dare I what?” Johnny asks, his eyebrows knitted together.

“Oh!” I lean, easing back. “Hi. I thought you were someone else.”

“Clearly.”

I roll my eyes when I hear that damn word again.

He walks in like he owns the place. “Are we gonna keep pretending like no one knows what’s going on between you and Dex?”

Exhaling heavily, I reply with sarcasm and a tilted grin, “Sounds good to me.”

He sits at the desk, kicking his feet up next to my laptop. With a glance over at the screen that shows the different airline options, he asks, “Going somewhere?”

“I’m leaving.”

“Tomorrow.”

Shaking my head, I say, “No, tonight, Johnny.”

“You can’t tonight. I don’t have anyone to eat dinner with.”

“You have the band, Tommy, thirty stagehands, fans, radio DJ’s, press—”

He chuckles. “Yeah, sure. I’ll call up the press and ask if anyone wants to have dinner with me.”

Lowering his feet, he leans forward and looks down. I sit on the edge of the bed, still trying to calm down, and wait. I’m not sure if I’m going to get a lecture or what, but I let him lead the conversation. After a minute or so, he says, “I’d like to have dinner with you and talk.” His voice is softer and sincere, more Jack Dalton than Johnny Outlaw. “Will you have dinner with me?”

Our eyes meet and my anger starts to dissipate. “Just like old times. Almost.” Cory’s not here.

“Yeah,” he says, knowing exactly what I mean. “Almost.”

Always a sucker for his charming side, I guess I’m staying the night. “I will. But I don’t want to talk about Dex, okay?”

“Okay.”

* * *

“So when did you and Dex start up?” Johnny asks right before taking a bite of his steak.

I set my fork down, but continue chewing the bite in my mouth before speaking. “You said we wouldn’t talk about him.”

Pointing his fork at me, he says, “No, you said you didn’t want to talk about him. I want to talk about what’s going on with you. The band knows. Hell, everyone on the tour knows. You guys can’t hide your relationship for shit. Like, you’re the worst secret lovers that ever were. I mean—”

“All right. All right. Stop it. First of all, we are not in a relationship. Secondly, we are not secret lovers.”

“I know. That’s my point. You suck at hiding these things.”

I sigh, rolling my eyes. As much as he’s frustrating, he’s kind of funny too. “Stop teasing. We aren’t lovers at all.”

“Have you had sex?”

“Johnny!”

“You’ve had sex with Dex.” His face scrunches in disgust. “And besides that rhyming, gross by the way. I’m totally judging you for that.”

“You sound like Holli.”

He shrugs, not ashamed. God love him.

As he drinks his beer, I say, “Look, I’ll tell you what we’re not. We’re not lovers, secret or otherwise. We’re not friends because we can’t seem to do that without other stuff getting in the way—”

“Like your attraction for each other?”

“Settle down, Mr. Quicky with the Comebacks. No, I meant all of this baggage both of us are lugging around.”

“Maybe it’s time to lighten the load, Rochelle.”

“I can’t. I’m held to different standards. Impossible standards.”

“Not by me. I don’t like the idea of you and Dex. I mean Dex can’t do better than you, so I see why he’s in it. But as for you, Dex is pretty much rock bottom. So what’s your excuse?”

I look around the restaurant. It’s a traditional steakhouse and dim, candles on the tables, and us in a booth in the corner. I spin my wine glass around a few times before lifting it and taking a sip. He’s stopped eating and is waiting for my reply, but I’m not sure what to say, so I go with the truth, tired of hiding my real feelings. “I’m lonely.”

And there it is, a soft sigh accompanied with a side of sympathy written all over his face. “That. What you’re doing right there, Johnny, that’s what I don’t want. Not from you. Not from anyone.”

Leaning back, he drops his hands to his sides. His eyes fixed on mine. “I want what’s best for you and the boys.”

“I know. I do too. But I’m starting to feel like what’s best for me as a woman may not be what’s best for the boys.”

“Dex isn’t that bad. I mean, he’s actually kind of cool. We’ve kept him around for a reason.”

With a light laugh, I say, “I know that too, but Janice doesn’t. The tabs don’t.”

“Fuck the tabs. We don’t live our lives to justify our actions to them. Sometimes we fuck up and sometimes the day turns out better than planned. We just have to do the best we can. As for Janice, I know I don’t have to explain her angle. You’re well aware of that. But she loves you and she loves those kids. You guys are all that remains of her son, so she’s gonna be tough on you. Probably not accept some guy strutting in like he’s gonna replace Cory.”

Looking down at the burgundy table cloth, running my finger along the fold wrinkle, I release a deep breath. “Dex didn’t strut, but I treated him like he did.”

With a slight nod in understanding, Johnny says, “I have a feeling he’s underestimated a lot.”

“But we shouldn’t. As his friends, we should stick by him. I’ve seen how much he’s changed over the years and I doubted what I knew to be true because of my own fears of being judged.”

Johnny shifts when the waiter arrives, and asks, “Would you like to see our dessert menu?”

“No, thank you,” he replies and then I repeat the same.

When we’re alone again, he leans in. “From where I sit, you have a choice to make.”

“I pushed him away,” I interrupt. “And then he slept with someone and I caught them, so there’s no choice to make anymore.”

His face contorts. “Hmmm.”

“For some reason my gut tells me he didn’t, but he wants me to believe he did.”

“What?”

“Exactly. It’s a mess.” With another sigh, I say, “We’re a mess.”

“Back up. He slept with someone, but didn’t, but wants you to believe he did?”

“I don’t know for certain, but something like that.”

“You guys are twisted.” The check arrives and he glances over it, sets his credit card down in the folder, then scopes out the restaurant. The waiter swipes it from the table, leaving us alone again. Usually by this point at dinner, he gets anxious to leave because word has spread that he’s in the restaurant. It will be a miracle if we get out of here without him stopping to take a pic or signing an autograph or twenty. Looking down at his watch, he says, “It’s almost eleven, but I’m up for an adventure. How about you?”

His excitement is contagious, so I ask, “Like old times?”

He smirks. “Yeah, but without the cop chase.”

Nodding toward the door, I say, “Let’s go.”

Thirty minutes later, the band—all four members—Tommy and me, are piled into a light blue minivan heading away from South Beach. The food I just ate feels heavy in my stomach, the awkwardness of the situation not sitting well with me. I did not have enough to drink to pretend to be cool.

“Where are we going?” Kaz asks, shifting uncomfortably next to me.

I elbow behind me lightly. “Stop moving. You just jabbed me in the boob.” I’m half on his lap and Derrick’s right leg. Dex is on the other side of Derrick crammed against the far door.

“Sorry,” Derrick mumbles.

Tommy laughs from the front seat. Dex leans forward and hits him on the arm, sneaking a peek at me in the process. Johnny hands his phone to Tommy and tells him to put on some music. Classic Aerosmith starts playing just seconds later; the melody calming the giggles and grunts as we settle in. Music is the thread that stitches us together. I feel Kaz’s foot bounce to the beat. Out of the corner of my eye, I spy Dex drumming his fingers on his legs.

The van crosses over a large bridge and then turns off on a small street that veers toward the beach. When Johnny parks, we all stagger out of the van, enjoying that we can stretch our cramped up legs.

The beach is isolated. More of a fisherman’s beach than a sunbathers. The headlights shine forward, lighting the water as it crashes down on the sand. I take my shoes off and walk forward wanting to get lost in the sounds of the music, the ocean, and the dark sky above.

Kaz and Tommy are nearby. Derrick is on his phone and walking down the beach. Johnny lays down in the sand halfway between the water’s edge and the car. And Dex—I turn back and see him sitting on the hood of the dated rental. He’s a silhouette of darkness, smoke wafting into the wind before it has time to settle above his head. He’s watching me. Unabashedly. His gaze seeking me out and taking hold, making me want to go to him. The water covers my feet and splashes up the side of my legs. The bottom of my jeans are rolled up but still get wet.

As “Dream On” by Aerosmith kicks in, I trek back. When I pass Johnny, he lazily asks, “You sure?”

“Yeah,” I reply and keep walking. Dex’s legs are parted, his forearms resting on his knees. He’s wearing sunglasses not to hide his eyes, but to hide his emotions. He can’t hide though. Just like me, there’s more to this, more to us than he can admit. I lean my back against the grill, resting on the bumper and keep my eyes forward.

His knee bumps me and I turn to look at him. In a hurry, he slides down the hood, his feet hitting the sand. I stand and he looks at me. Lifting his sunglasses up, his expression more pissed than any other. With a slight roll of his body, he’s pressed against me, his arms on either side of me, his palms flat on the hood. His head is on my shoulder, and he says, “You’re inside of me, the blood that fills my veins, the aches that my heart feel, and every good decision I ever made. That’s what you mean to me. I can’t stay away from you and I don’t want to.” Lifting up and looking me in the eyes, his lips brush against my cheek without leaving a kiss, and he adds, “You’re the melody I can’t capture and the notes I can’t hit. But I can’t fight your pull, always gravitating toward your world, to you.” Just when I think he might kiss me, going against his promise from this morning, he pushes off, leaving me in awe of not only his words, but the man himself. The underlying passion we fight so hard against is back in place, denying us both any peace until we give in again.

With my mouth left agape, it’s times like these I wish I smoked. I steady myself as I walk back to Johnny and sit down silently next to him. His arm goes out and I lie back, using it as a pillow. Our life experiences have bonded us. He’s become the only man I can rely on in my life. One of his best qualities is he knows when and when not to push. He stays quiet, letting the waves fill the air instead.

Derrick is the next to join us, sitting down on the other side of me. Tommy and Kaz leave the laughter down at the water and sit next to Derrick. I see Dex in the distance throwing something into the ocean; a seashell is my guess.

Despite his actions, he still fascinates me. Physically, he’s so beautiful, and could easily be mistaken for a model down here in Miami. But his insides are conflicted. He’s a lot like me in that way. I know there’s good inside. I’ve seen it in him. But sometimes, we can’t fix people. He wants to live one way, but his image comes into play and he battles that demon daily. I realize regardless of our pull, as he calls it, our efforts might not be enough. He might have to be the one who finds his own peace instead of me giving him what he needs. I may not be able to do that.

I sit up just as Dex sits down on the other side of Johnny. No one says anything, and a different song echoes through the windows of the van. Kaz is smoking a joint. The smell reminds me of our days as a garage band. We were all about fucking up just so we could say we lived life to the fullest. Cory was always the most responsible of us.

I look over at Dex and he looks away. It’s then that I finally get it. All of this with Dex isn’t about him. Sure he has his issues to deal with, but this is about me and my issues as well. I can have fond memories of Cory, which I always will. But he’s not here sitting on the beach with us or to guide us to safety anymore.

Dex is.

Dex with his smile that hides the good from the rest of the world and saves it all for me. Dex with his mysterious side and secrets and intriguing reasons for lying to me. I may be glorifying him, but deep down, I feel he’s lying to protect me, not to hurt me. Revelations like these make me anxious and want to share them, celebrate them, but not with the guys here. I can’t act like an emotional girl around them. I’d lose all my cool kid cred if I do.

I stand up and dust the sand off my ass. “Dex, walk with me.” I don’t ask. I make my demand as I start walking toward the water again. He’s behind me trailing, so I slow down and let him catch up. “I can’t keep doing this with you.”

Looking over, he’s pulling another cigarette from his shirt pocket and a lighter from the front of his jeans. He lights up, then tilts his head back and blows. “It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

“What is?”

“I am.”

Hoping my words are not lost to the wind, I whisper, “You don’t have to be.”

“I don’t know any other way.”

I bend down and pick up a seashell. When he squats down next to me, I say, “You do. Just sometimes you get lost.”

“I need you to help me find my way back.”

My eyes meet his and in the moonlight of Miami, I reply, “Okay.”

He nods. It’s small, but it’s an understanding passing between us, an agreement between two hearts.