Chase’s effect is a lot more … calm.
“You were amazing, Ruby. Seriously,” he beams at me, then his eyes rove lower. “And all grown up.”
“How did you get in here?” The security surrounding the Tucker Brothers Band is usually airtight.
“You know I’m still in touch with Rose sometimes, right? She sent me her all-show backstage pass. She knew you wouldn’t mind.”
“Of course I don’t mind. It’s so good to see you, Chase.”
“Come with me. I’m heading downtown with some friends I want you to meet. There’s a band at this cool little hole-in-the-wall bar called Smoke. It’s not far from here. They’re waiting for us outside.”
“I should probably wait for Travis.”
“He’ll be hours, though, right? Come on, we haven’t seen each other in forever. I’m sure he won’t mind.”
I’m sure he will mind.
Chase gives me a teasing look. “Don’t tell me he’s got you on a short leash now. Wow. That’s not the wild and free Ruby Hayes I know and love.”
“He doesn’t have me on a leash.”
“Then come on. You can leave him a message and he can catch up with us later.”
That doesn’t sound unreasonable.
“What’s the big deal?” Chase asks.
What is the big deal? I can go have a drink with my old friend who I haven’t seen in four years.
Can’t I?
Travis and I can spend an hour or two apart without the world coming to an end, right? He can trust me. There’s nothing wrong with me going out with Chase and his friends while Travis’s band finishes their second set. It’s fine. “Okay. Sure. Let me put on some jeans.”
Chase is still standing there beaming at me like he can’t believe I’ve changed as much as I have. And I have changed. A lot. In every imaginable way.
“Do you mind, um, turning around for a second?”
Chase smiles at me. “Okay.”
He turns and I shimmy out of my sequined gold dress and find a pair of jeans, a pink top and a pair of cowboy boots. “I’ll just send a message to Travis.” I know he doesn’t have his phone on him when he’s performing. But he’ll see it when he’s finished.
I’m going to a bar called Smoke with Chase and his friends. I’ll see you a little later at the hotel. Please don’t worry. I add a heart emoji and leave it at that. It’s normal, I remind myself, to have friends when you’re in a relationship, no matter how intense it is. I don’t have to feel guilty. And I don’t want to feel guilty.
“Let’s go,” I say.
A couple of the security guys look at me curiously as I’m leaving with Chase. One of them asks me if Travis knows I’m leaving. “Yes,” I tell him. Or he will, soon enough.
We meet up with Chase’s friends and he introduces me as we walk along the street towards the bar. His friends all stare at me like I’ve sprouted two heads. It occurs to me that I’m sort of famous now, maybe. I’m not used to their reactions. I haven’t been in a normal setting since this whole whirlwind started and it feels different.
I miss Travis. I miss the security and brawn and warmth of his presence.
But I’m here now so I might as well try to enjoy myself.
We get to the bar and it’s loud and packed with people and there’s a band playing classic rock covers from a tiny corner stage. Chase gets me a drink and we sit in a booth with his friends and talk as much as we can over the noise. A few people stare at me but I do my best to blend in. It feels strange to be stared at.
“God, I missed you so much,” Chase says again and I can’t help thinking it: if he missed me so much, why didn’t ever come back? All those years I’d somehow thought it was my fault that we were apart. That it was my boarding school and my strict schedule that came between us. But it’s occurring to me now that Chase wasn’t at boarding school. He had a job throughout high school and all the freedom in the world. If he’d wanted to see me that badly, why hadn’t he?
Travis would have come back, is what I’m thinking.
Travis never would have left in the first place.
An old Eagles song comes on and Chase reaches for my hand. “Remember this song, Roo? Remember that summer before I left when we spent so much time down by the river? We used to love this song.”
We did love this song.
“Come dance with me,” he says.
All his other friends are dancing and I figure why not so we go onto the dancefloor and it’s then that people really start noticing me. A girl takes a photo of me and I want to tell her not to do that.
Chase is holding me close—maybe too close—and I’m starting to feel sort of claustrophobic. It’s so crowded in here.
There are a lot of people watching me. Curious women. Men with unnerving thoughts behind their eyes. Moving closer. I want to leave. I’m starting to realize that this isn’t entirely safe. People recognize me and I’ve put myself in danger by coming here.
And that’s when it happens.
Chase’s palm eases around the nape of my neck and he kisses me, holding me there.
I freeze.
His lips are soft, moving gently against mine. And my curiosity is laid to rest. This kiss is meek and mild. It’s my past. It feels empty and brotherly and wrong. It’s not him. It doesn’t have his passion and his fire. There’s none of that raging, feral love behind it that ignites us both with a need we can’t control.
I place my hand on Chase’s chest and I pull back. “No, Chase,” I tell him softly.
Somewhere outside of what’s happening between me and Chase and all the realizations that are blazing along with it, I’m aware of a change in the atmosphere. Like a storm just blew in.
There’s a lot of commotion.
The crowd has parted.
People are gasping and making sounds of awe and excitement.
He’s flanked by his brothers and behind them is a brigade of beefy security guards.
He looks huge and suntanned and mad as a bull at a rodeo. And so gorgeous he takes my breath away.
Travis.
We take our bows and leave the stage and I feel agitated for some reason.
I need to see her.
I check her dressing room but she’s not there. She’s not in mine either. I wander around, checking rooms, searching.
Calm down. You can handle not seeing her for an hour or two without self-detonating.
Where the fuck is she?
I go find my phone to check my messages.
I’m going to a bar called Smoke with Chase and his friends. I’ll see you a little later at the hotel. Please don’t worry
A jolt of electric panic sears through my brain.
No.
“No what?” asks Kade. I didn’t even realize I’d spoken it out loud.
I stay calm exactly long enough to google the name of the bar. It’s only a block from the stadium. “Ruby went to a bar with that dipshit from her hometown who came to the show tonight.” I’m breathing hard. I don’t care about the guy. I’ll fucking kill him. What I care about is that she’s put herself in harm’s way. She’s new at this. She doesn’t understand that people get rabid very quickly. Fans think they know a person from the photographs and the songs. They feel strangely possessive and overfamiliar and if people see her there, completely unprotected, they might—