Was I seriously losing my mojo?
“Yeah… I’ll take that under advisement.”
“Good luck,” she said. “I hope it works out for you.”
“Thanks.” I knew she meant that. Summer wanted me to be happy, of course, like any friend would. Plus, if it worked out, it might just mean I’d be too preoccupied with the new girl to fall in love with one of our new bandmates. “I should probably get going. Jet lag. And I was up early yesterday for brunch with twins. Haven’t really recovered yet.”
Summer lifted an eyebrow as I got up and headed for the door, but she didn’t ask me to explain that statement.
I paused just inside the door to the music room and looked back at her. Sitting there on one of the two matching recliners, where we had our sacred vortex meetings and where we’d shared so much.
“I get why you might have trouble trusting me,” I told her. “But you’ll have to trust me, or the fact is, we won’t have a band. Not one that lasts for more than five minutes.”
“I do trust you, Ash. Whether you believe that are not. But you can’t fuck anyone in this band.”
“I get that. But you realize that means you can’t fuck anyone in this band, either.”
“Yeah,” she said dryly. “I realize that.”
“Even me,” I said.
“Even you,” she agreed, holding my gaze.
And I said it; the thing one of us needed to say, if we were really doing this. “You know this means we’re never getting back together.”
“I didn’t think we were,” she said, gently.
“Ever,” I said, holding her gaze. “You okay with closing the door on that possibility?”
She softened. “Yeah, Ash. I have to be okay with it. I told you how much I want this band. Are you okay with it?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I want this band, too.”
I did want this band. More than anything in my life right now—except maybe Danica Vola—I wanted this band.
And I knew I didn’t love Summer anymore. Not like I used to. Not likethat.
We’d always be friends and I’d love her as a friend… but that was all.
I’d never been so sure of it as I was right now, as I walked out her door.
Chapter Seventeen
Danica
Iwas two refreshing Strongbow ciders and three very delicious shooters in at my favorite nightclub, when my ex showed up.
It was Thursday night—ladies night—and there were a whole lot more shooters lined up on the table, ready to go, and more on their way. I didn’t get drunk very often, but on ladies night, it wason.
After me and the girls sucked back a sufficient number of shooters, we’d disburse in pursuit of men (the single girls) and the dance floor (me and the non-single girls).
Technically, I was single, but try explaining that to my lady parts. Currently, since they were obsessed with a very special unicorn/rock star, they were zero-percent interested in any other male on the planet. Which meant that tonight, for me, was all about dancing and quality time with my ladies.
That was the plan.
But then Carter happened. To me and my favorite bar, on ladies night.
I’d attempted to keep my bar in the breakup, of course. Carter had never come here before he met me anyway. Unfortunately, we’d had a dramatic breakup scene here, you know, the night he got the phone number from the chick with the gigantic breasts and I caught him doing it.
