Page 53 of Mayhem

It’s now Monday morning, and I still haven’t heard anything from Brad. I didn’t text him anymore, figuring I’d done enough damage on Saturday night. If he wanted to respond, he would have. I guess, he just didn’t want to.

Every time I think that thought, my heart sinks lower. I’ve been in a tailspin since yesterday, and instead of sleeping off my hangover like I wanted to, I spent the day chasing my tail of twisted internal narratives. I read and reread my wall of texts to Brad, and nothing relationship-shattering jumped out at me. Was I annoying? Absolutely. Did it warrant a complete brush-off? I don’t think so.

But then, maybe I don’t know Brad like I thought I did. That’s the main thing that jumps into the forefront of my brain. I thought we did, but maybe we don’t know each other well enough to really know anything. Especially about how each of us handles stuff like this. Maybe this is normal.

I don’t like this normal.

I get to the practice space super early. I’m not able to sleep anyway, so I may as well get a jump start on the workday. Getting ahead of the week’s social media plans and website updates is a perfect way to distract me from my love life, or lack thereof. I clutch my coffee cup to warm my hands from the chilly air of the large space and hunker down into PR mode.

“There you are,” Charlie’s exuberant voice pulls me out of my tunnel vision focus. I look up to find her barreling toward me, arms open wide for a hug. On impact, she nearly knocks me over, and I barely have time to react to what’s happening.

She squeezes her arms around my neck, making me choke out laughter. This is what I needed today, and I didn’t even know it.

“Hey, Charlie, what’s up?” I ask, hugging her back. She’s still got my neck in a chokehold and doesn’t seem inclined to let go any time soon. In fact, she starts rocking from side to side to drag the hug out even longer. I’m not sure what to make of any of this.

I glance up to find Brad watching us, but his face is completely blank and void of all emotions. My smile falters as our eyes meet. There’s usually a spark of something behind those beautiful gray eyes, even if it’s negative – his eyes always give away his emotions. But not now. There’s not even an inkling of anger, or disdain.

“Hey,” I say to him, prying Charlie off me, and forcing the smile back that had begun to wane for her benefit.

“I guess we’re the early birds, huh?” he finally says, sitting on the chair across from me. I mentally note that he chose not to sit next to me on the couch, where there is plenty of room. The bad feeling in my gut increases as I watch him look at his phone instead of at me.

“Today, I’m gonna have us make butterfly wings that we can wear,” Charlie announces, grabbing a bag full of craft supplies from near Brad. “I’ve got it all planned out, and the girls are going to love it. No peeking until we’re done.”

“You got it,” Brad says, still engrossed in his phone. “No looking.”

“I can’t wait to see them,” I say as she goes, the enthusiasm weak in my voice, but wanting to encourage her. I know how hard she plans their crafting projects. She’s going to make a great manager of some kind one day.

Once she starts getting settled in the corner, and I’m pretty sure she can’t hear what we’re saying, I turn to Brad. “Is everything okay? I didn’t hear from you yesterday.”

He nods, still focused on his phone. “Yeah, everything’s great. Sorry we got busy shopping for butterfly stuff yesterday. It must have slipped my mind.”

His knee starts bouncing like he’s nervous about something, and my stomach clenches even more. It slipped his mind? He’s not thinking about me twenty-four seven like I’m thinking about him. It’s not fair to expect that kind of concentration on me, but not even a passing thought?

Ouch.

“Sorry about all the drunk texts on Saturday. Ivy and I got a little bit carried away…” The heat on my face from embarrassment doesn’t even matter because he doesn’t even glance my way.

Instead, he shrugs. He fucking shrugs.

“S’cool. Happens to the best of us. No worries.”

That’s it. I can’t take anymore.

“Is something wrong?” I ask, not liking the vibe I’m getting from him at all. It’s not like him to brush me off like this, or anyone. Brad isn’t the kind of guy to ignore things, or people. It’s just not his nature. Everyone can get distracted, sure, but this is over the top.

Finally, he runs a hand through his hair and meets my eyes, and I don’t like what I see. Apprehension. He’s holding back something, and I can’t tell what it is.

“No babe, everything’s fine. I had a bit too much fun Saturday night myself, and just got busy yesterday with Charlie once she got home. That’s all.” His lips curve into a smile that makes his face light up. The knot in my stomach loosens, and I smile back, a sense of relief washing over me.

I need to get out of my head and stop overthinking everything. If left to my own devices, I’ll doom us both without a word being spoken. My mind can be a terrible place to live once doubts start taking residence. I’ve sabotaged relationships by not being able to trust. I don’t want that to happen with Brad. I want to believe that he means what he says.

The door swings open and Hayley and June come storming in with a haggard Ian trailing behind. It looks like the weekend took something out of all of us. Except the kids, of course. The girls start hopping in a circle with excitement, reminiscing about their amusement park trip. I want to grab some of that emotion and bottle it for myself. If anything, it’s a distraction from the awkwardness between me and Brad. And that is something I can definitely use.

Just moments later, Emmett and Stefan arrive, and Dakota follows not long after. The room is once again filled with music as the guys work through their set for a string of upcoming shows around the southwest.

I’ve been busy with the promotional materials and social media surrounding the mini-tour and keeping tabs with Eliza and Ian to monitor ticket sales. All but two shows are already sold out, and we’ve been in discussions with venues to possibly add more dates. Things are moving fast, now that Dakota has found his place in the band, and everyone is clicking on all cylinders.

During their rehearsal, every now and then, I look up to watch the guys play and I’ll catch Brad looking at me. We’ll lock eyes and I’ll get warm all over. As he holds the mic, I’ll remember what his hands felt like on my bare skin, and as he sings, I can picture his lips all over me. I find myself blushing almost every time our eyes meet, and when I do, he smiles at me, probably thinking the same exact things I am.

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