“Dude, are you, like, five?” I roll my eyes.
“I didn’t think you’d like it if I asked why you weren’t banging her fucking brains out. You’re the one who asked me to be more respectful.”
I slap him on the back. “You’ve reined it in, and I appreciate that, and to answer your question, no, we’re still stuck firmly in the friend zone, and I have the blue balls to show for it.”
Zeta’s been here two weeks, and it’s as if she’s never been out of my life. We’ve settled into a nice routine, and I’m happier than I’ve been in years. I haven’t had one single anxiety attack, flashback, or nightmare since we relocated to the Hamptons, and apart from a couple of beers each night, I haven’t had to rely on alcohol or drugs either.
I watch Zeta and Linda, Scott’s wife, roll up their mats with a big smile on my face. They’re laughing and chatting as they make their way back to the house. They’ve struck up a good friendship, and I love seeing Zeta looking so carefree.
Some mornings, she joins me for a run on the beach, and on other occasions, she does yoga with her new bestie. Then we all eat breakfast together before we head to the studio to work. Linda usually lounges by the pool with the baby, and she has dinner on the table when we finally make our way out of the studio each evening.
Nights are filled with watching movies, jamming casually with the guys, or just laughing and joking around. We haven’t stepped foot off the property, and I love it. It’s like we’re in our own little cocoon, and if I had my way, I’d stay here for eternity.
“With all the PDAs going on, I was sure you’d taken things to the next level,” Gar says, following me away from the window as I make my way into the kitchen.
Wearetouchy-feely, but it’s purely PG-rated, consisting mainly of hand-holding and hugging, and she lets me spoon her while we lie on the couch in the movie room sometimes. I cherish every touch, every look, and every opportunity she gives me to get close, but I don’t want to push the boundaries until she tells me she’s ready.
“She needs time, man,” I tell him, switching the Keurig on. “I hurt her pretty badly, and she has got lots of stuff to work through.”
He leans his elbows on the island unit, looking thoughtful, which is a scary concept for Gar. “The way she looks at you, man.” A strange expression crosses his face. “She loves you. Like really loves you.”
My heart soars at his words. “I love her so fucking much, Gar, and she makes everything better. Having her here is … more than I ever dared dream.”
“I’m pleased for you, dude. You deserve it. You’ve spent a long time being unhappy, and I know she’s the reason you’ve got this big kickass smile on your face every day and why you’re knocking out some fan-fucking-tastic lyrics. She’s good for you, and I hope it works out.”
“Well, fuck me,” Scott exclaims, stepping into the kitchen with his little son in his arms, overhearing the tail end of our conversation. “Was legendary manwhore Garrett Jones really saying that, or have I walked into an alternate universe?”
“Screw you, man.” Gar flips him the bird. “I’m all for monogamy if you find the right girl, and someday, I hope to find someone who looks at me the way Zeta looks at this punk.” He jabs his finger in my direction.
Scott grins, sliding onto a stool and sitting little Mattie up on the counter. I tweak the cute little kid’s nose, and he gurgles and chuckles right on cue.
“Things seem to be going well with you and Zeta,” Scott says, smiling. “I’m pleased for you. She’s a great girl, and Linda’s really fond of her.”
“We’re still just friends, but I’m hoping it’ll be more. I’m just not sure how to move things to the next level when she’s asked me to give her space.”
“You gotta woo her, man.” Scott tickles his son as he talks, and Mattie wriggles and chuckles.
“Talk about alternate realm,” Gar mumbles. “What fucking century did you come from?”
Scott grins. “We can learn a lot from our forefathers about the way to win a woman’s heart.”
“What do you suggest?” I ask, sipping my coffee. Gar subtly leans forward, pretending like he’s not invested in his answer.
“Do stuff for her that she likes. Little things that show you understand her and that you care.”
“Like what?” I scratch the back of my head, frowning.
“Bring her breakfast in bed, or give her feet or shoulders a rub at the end of the day, run her a bath.” He shrugs, continuing to tickle his son as the sound of chatter and approaching footfall reaches our ears. “Women love little gestures like that.” He winks at me, lifting his son up into his arms. “You’ve been writing love songs for that woman for years, so I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
I’m still thinking about Scott’s words of wisdom later on when we’re in the studio, trying to come up with ideas that will prove to Zeta how much I care. Gar and I have been messing about with some melodies while Scott has gone to check on Linda, and Zeta’s been interviewing Micah for the biography she’s writing. My cell rings just as Zeta and Micah walk into the room, and my heart flips cartwheels as my eyes lock on her pretty brown ones. The smile she gives me almost knocks me off my feet, and I’m in such a trance that it’s up to Gar to answer my phone.
“Yeah, hang on. I’ll put him on now.” The smile drops off my face as I spot Gar’s worried expression. He holds the phone out to me. “It’s Lucas’s sister.”
My belly does another flip, but it’s not pleasant this time. My heart is lodged in the back of my throat as I take the phone, forcing my vocal cords to work. “What’s wrong?” I croak, my mouth as dry as the Gobi Desert.
“He’s tried it again,” she sobs, and a piercing pain spears me straight through the heart.
“Fuck, no. Is he … is he?” I can’t articulate the thought. A dead weight settles on my chest, pressing and constricting, as my heart starts pumping like crazy.
