Uninhibited (Page 69)

Alicia.

Every day apart from her has been pure torture. I don’t know how I can take much more of this. It’s why I agreed to this big reunion tour, and the awards show appearance this weekend. All the guys were cautious, they know how I don’t want to go diving back into the deep end. It was emotional enough just getting back together in the same room for the first time. We’ve all been dealing with stuff since Connor died; none of us wanted to risk our sanity by charging full throttle down a familiar dangerous road. No, this time we’d do it differently, we decided. A Greatest Hits package, a couple of new songs, some low-key gigs around town—that was the deal. Small, manageable. But after one week without Alicia, I couldn’t handle the pain. Small and manageable might keep me sane, but it won’t obliterate the ache slicing deep in my chest when I think about her, or the shock that crashes through my system just catching a glimpse of red hair on the street.

She’s all I want in the world, and I drove her away. Me and my jealousy, my crazy demands. I can’t believe I was so stupid, making it all or nothing. I was angry, out of my mind with jealousy, but that was no excuse. Right now I’d settle for anything, be any part of her life at all: a word, a kiss.

Her heart.

There’s a tap at my door, insistent. I fling it open, furious. “I told you to get the fuck away—”

“Great to see you too, big brother.” Tegan leans up and lands a kiss on my cheek. She’s got a duffle bag over her shoulder, wearing a tiny pair of cut-off jeans that I’d have words with her about if I wasn’t so deep in self-loathing and misery.

“Hey.” I stand aside as she breezes in. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“And miss your first big show?” Tegan gives me a scolding look. “Besides, Austin called last night. Said you were moping around like a real jackass. And he clearly wasn’t exaggerating.” I sigh. “I’m fine, I just…”

“Are still busy being a stubborn idiot?” Tegan finishes for me with a smirk. I roll my eyes, but she just laughs at me. “Jesus, why won’t you just pick up the phone and call her?”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?” Tegan challenges. “You love her, it’s obvious, anyone with a pair of eyes could see by the way you’ve been growling around the place. Please, do us all a favor and win her back.”

“You don’t understand,” I scowl, feeling the guilt and remorse hit me all over again. “I screwed it up.”

“So un-screw it,” Tegan insists. Her dark eyes blaze in determination. “It’s not too late, she loves you too.”

I shake my head, hollow inside. “She doesn’t. Maybe she would have, one day, but I rushed her. I pushed too fast.”

“She loves you,” Tegan repeats, softer this time. “I saw you guys together, remember? So what if she doesn’t realize it yet? It’s not too late.”

I wish she was right. That I could just pick up the phone and call her, and make everything OK. I’ve come close a million times, late at night, lost in memories; every time something reminds me of her.

But when it comes to dialing her number, I always freeze up, overwhelmed with doubts. I told her I loved her, I laid it all on the line, and she wasn’t ready. She didn’t feel the same way. Maybe this is best for her, for both of us. I’d only ruin it in the end, cause her more pain than I already have.

“Dex…” Tegan can see the war raging inside me. She comes closer, pulling me into a hug. “You can’t give up. Not if she’s the one.”

“When did you get to be such a romantic?” I ask gruffly.

Tegan releases me, rolling her eyes. “You’re the marshmallow in the family,” she points out. “Writing all those mushy songs. You try and hide it behind all that scowling and leather, but I know the truth.”

Affection swells in my chest. “I love you, kid,” I tell her.

“Love you too,” Tegan smiles. “Even if you are a total doofus sometimes. Call her,” she adds, before leaving me alone. “I mean it!” her voice echoes.

She’s right.

I pour a drink and sit on the edge of the bed, staring at my phone. Alicia’s number is the first one listed in my contacts, the name I have to scroll past every single time.

But tonight, I need to use it.

My heart races like I’m a teenager asking a girl out for the first time, but I force myself to take a gulp of Dutch courage and hit “dial.”

It rings three times, and then clicks to voicemail.

“Hi, this is Alicia, I can’t talk right now…”

Her voice washes over me, and in an instant, I’m back there at the beach house. Lying in the sun tangled up in her silken limbs, feeling her lips brush against my skin, hearing her laughter echo into the sunlight.

She’s gone.

I hang up, feeling the crash of disappointment. She’s out there somewhere, living a life I can’t even picture. She could be off with friends, curled up at home.

With some other man.

I pour myself another drink, and turn on the TV for something to drown out the chorus of recrimination in my mind.

Something tells me I won’t be getting any sleep tonight.

**

The next day is packed with sound-checks and run-throughs at the venue, keeping my mind focused and busy the way I need it to be. Soon enough, it’s show time, and we pile into a limo to make our big entrance. The awards is a big red carpet thing, packed with massive celebrities, and already the Strip is crammed with fans crushed against the barriers hoping for a glimpse of their favorite star.