Page 38 of Fractured Rhythm

“Why? Because I look like an emo punk?” I said sarcastically. I’d always worn my hair a little long. Never as long as Tristan’s or Jax’s, but shaggy. I’d cut it short and dyed it black before coming to New York. A new me. A less recognizable me. I’d wanted to fade into the city, and so far, it’d worked.

I met her gaze, and her smile cracked the corner of her mouth as she tilted her head to appraise me.

“Are you going to start writing depressing music now?”

“It’s just a hairstyle, not a lifestyle. Plus, could you see Jax trying to tone down his theatrics and sound emo?” I barked out a laugh.

“No. Probably not,” she said, her smile widening. “I wish he was here.”

“Who, Jax?”

“No. Jamie.”

I tugged her hand, and she fell against my side, snuggling up. My heart started to race as she pressed against my side. She might push me away tomorrow, but for today, I’d take every little touch, every smile, and I’d wipe away her tears.

“I’d give anything for that, too.”

“I should’ve come to more shows over the years. I missed watching you guys play,” she said.

That was on me, and I’d known it since the day I’d ended it. She’d shown up for the occasional show over the years, but I’d rarely stuck around for longer than I had to when she was in town. It was too hard. I took random girls home in front of her, but I never hooked up with them if Cassie was in the same town. Thinking of Cassie made me feel like a total asshole and I’d send the woman home.

Not that I’d been a monk since I broke up with her. That was completely unrealistic. But never when she was in town. Like I was being faithful to her—to our memory—which made absolutely no sense since we weren’t together.

“I wish that, too.” I tightened my arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss into her hair. It smelled like spicy sunshine, the same scent she’d had for as long as I’d known her. I didn’t want to tell her I’d used the shampoo she’d left at my apartment after I’d broken it off with her, so I could keep that scent around for as long as I could. Jamie had even accused me of having Cassie in my apartment after we’d broken up because he smelled her. I’d tossed the bottle after that.

“That last show I went to—I think it was one of the first shows of your last tour, probably in Belgium—Jamie was crazy intense. I guess I should’ve known he was out of it, but…” She trailed off, shaking her head.

“Let’s do only good memories today, okay? Honor him and not think about what we could’ve changed. We’ll drive ourselves crazy thinking what-ifs. I know I’ve done that for the last two years. Hell, probably longer than that.”

“You’re right. And I did have a great time at that show in Belgium. I remember his hair was so freaking long that he kept getting it wrapped around his drumsticks. It was a tangled mess.”

“Jax joked that maybe he should put his hair in a man bun for the show,” I said, grinning at the memory. Jamie had been outraged at the suggestion.

“I will never become a man bun hipster. My hair flying helps me play,” she said in a deep voice that I assumed was supposed to be her brother’s. It wasn’t half bad.

“Man bun hipster. Pretty sure Jax called him that for the rest of the tour. Kept leaving hair ties on Jamie’s kit,” I said, laughing.

“He went crazy on the drums that night. His hair was definitely flying,” she said. “God, he loved playing more than anything. I remember when he found that drum set at a pawn shop when we were kids. Dad wouldn’t let him play it in the house, and our garage was always full. He was so happy when your mom let him be as loud as he wanted in your garage.”

“Yeah, we had a blast messing around,” I said. Jamie had been an amazing drummer, one of the absolute best in the business.

“I miss your parents. How are they?” she asked.

“Good. Good. Still in the same house even though I offered to buy them a new one. I paid off their mortgage at least. I bet they would love to see you.”

“I can’t remember the last time I was in our hometown. There’s nothing there for me.”

I hated how different our families were. Cassie deserved parents like mine. Every kid did. They might’ve driven me crazy when I was a teenager with their rules, but that was normal teenage angst. At the end of the day, they walked the perfect balance of tough love and encouragement—even if I hadn’t realized it at the time.

“Maybe we could pay them a visit. It’s only a few hours from the city. Mom always has cookies waiting for me when I get there,” I said with a wistful smile. It had been a few months since I’d gone home. Hell, I wasn’t even sure if I’d told them I was back on the East Coast.

“Maybe,” she whispered against me.

We reminisced about Jamie and the band for another hour and then continued over the pizza I’d brought, once I’d reheated it. It was nice to be here like this. The ease was back. Yes, there were tears, but there was also much-needed laughter. This is what I wanted to feel with Jamie’s memory, not the gut-wrenching guilt that had consumed me for the last two years.

Eventually, we put a movie on and drifted off to sleep. I woke up half-sprawled on the couch with Cassie draped over my body, her head on my chest, with one hand tucked between us. Another movie was playing, and I had no idea how long we’d slept curled up like this, two puzzle pieces that would always fit perfectly together no matter how they were bent and twisted over time.

If heaven and hell existed together, this would be it. I wanted to pull her in tighter, to wrap my arms around her waist and never let go, but she had to make the first move. I would pressure her to talk to me, but I wouldn’t go any further than that. It was up to her to dictate what kind of relationship we would have. Regardless of what I wanted, I owed her that.

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