Page 77 of Not Your Little Girl Anymore

Sighing, I run my fingers through my hair to get small strands that dangle off my forehead and then grab a towel from the bathroom to clean up the liquid on the floor.

Once the towel soaks up the whiskey, I give it a small shake, staying close to the floor to make sure any pieces of glass don’t get stuck or fly elsewhere. Then, I use the dustpan to clean up the shards of glass. I do this three times, hoping I don’t miss any small pieces.

After I finish cleaning the mess, I pull out my phone and scroll through my contacts a few times, debating whether now would be the best time to update the band… or at least Samantha.

I hate being stuck in this predicament, but I signed up for this.

To be the main man of the entire operation.

Scratching my temple, I hit the call button and bring the phone to my ear. It rings a few times before Samantha answers.

“What’s up?” she answers.

Taking in a deep breath, I blow out, unprepared for how upset she’s going to be. “Can you meet me at Rise and Shine?”

“Um… yeah. I mean I was going to help my dad out at the bar. He’s short staffed.”

“It won’t take long.”

I listen to her breathing over the phone for a short second, assuming she’s thinking. “Yeah. I’m sure he won’t mind that I’m a few minutes late. What’s he gonna do? Fire me? It’s not like I actually work there.”

I chuckle, scratching the stubble on my jaw. “Yeah. See you soon.”

When I hang up the phone, I roll my neck, slide my phone into my pocket, and grab the sunglasses I left on the counter. Memories of Summer peek through my head, and my grip on the glass tightens. I push the thoughts aside, having no other choice, and drive to Rise and Shine.

The second I walk through the doors, my senses are filled with the intoxicating smell of freshly brewed coffee. My eyes fall onto Samantha, lounging on the red sofa by the jukeboxes. It didn’t take me long to spot her, considering we always sit in the same spot each time we come here. She has her glasses pulled on the top of her head, but I leave mine on, knowing it’s not much of a disguise. But right now, it’s better than nothing at all.

Hiding myself completely from the public was never something I cared to do. Much like the guys, they usually will toss on their beanies and keep a lower profile. For me, I love to appreciate our fans. We wouldn’t be where we are if it weren’t for them.

So, if someone spots me out in public and wants a photo or a signature, absolutely. However, I know that I will eventually grow tired and overwhelmed the more popular we get.

I plop down on the couch next to Sam, sinking down into the cushions. A breath of aggravation comes from my chest, and I regret it the second it slips out.

“You good?” Samantha asks.

Pinching my temples with my thumb and index finger, I shake my head. “I met with Chase.” I stop there, sitting up and resting my elbows on both knees.

“Why do I feel like this isn’t the conversation I was hoping for?”

“He didn’t take everything well. We’re on our own.” There is no reason to sugarcoat it.

“Shit,” she says in a mere whisper.

Nodding, I grip the back of my head. “Look, I’m sorry. I know how badly I screwed up. I manage to screw up everything that comes my way. But not this. I’m gonna make this right. I have to.”

“Well, surely. We aren’t perfect. So, I guess we will find a new director or make Chase wish he never quit on us to begin with.” She pauses for a minute before continuing, “The new songs are amazing. Different, but I think that’s what we need.”

I sigh. “I don’t know what I’d ever do without you.” There’s sarcasm in my tone, and Samantha knows it. Her lips curl upward as she rolls her eyes, taking in a deep breath.

Then, there is a long moment of silence. Samantha drinks her coffee, and I wallow in my thoughts. We have a little over a week left until our event, and I need to get into gear and really nail this show.

“You really cared for her, didn’t you?” Samantha breaks the silence, pulling me out of my endless thoughts.

I don’t need to know rocket science to know who Sam is referring to. The thought of Summer makes the stinging in my chest increase. I can’t count how many times I have typed out a message, deleted it, and typed it all over again to just not send it. All I want to do is explain and apologize for how much of a dick I am. But the fear of rejection has almost consumed me.

Truthfully, my skin itches to hear her voice and to see those big, beautiful, bright eyes looking at me again. To smell her sweet scent. To be the reason she smiles on a bad day.

“Yeah,” I say softly. “I really care for her.”

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