Page 126 of Deliverance

“Sure.” She shifts and looks up at me through the thick fringe of her lashes and the intensity of her stare zings through me like an electrical shockwave. “What is it?”

I flip her hand in mine and run my index finger across the bumps on her palm—the blistered spots one would normally have from holding something too hard and too often. A drumstick or…a brush.

We’re not that different after all.

“There’s this thing my manager says I should attend,” I begin. “A movie premier. The director’s kind of a big deal in the music industry and this is his first feature film…”

Drew cocks her head, and there’s expectation in her face. “Go on.”

“I have a plus one.”

“Okay.”

“Would you like to come with me?”

Her gaze shifts past me and falls on the window again, and for a few silent seconds, we just drive and drive, then she asks, “When you say it’s a movie premier, does that mean there’ll be press?”

“And a red carpet.”

“And a red carpet,” she repeats, listening to how each word sounds on her tongue.

“And an open bar,” I add, my arm tightening around her.

“Oh, well”—she smiles—“in that case.”

“Look…I know it’s public and there’ll be photographers, and you can say no, but I would really love for you to go. It can be a non-date thing if you’re not comfortable with…us.” When I’m done stammering through the sentence, I finally allow myself to take the breath I had no idea I was subconsciously holding.

I don’t think I’ve ever been so nervous in my life when I asked a woman to go out with me.

“Okay.” Drew clutches the sides of my jacket and draws me closer. “I’ll come.” Our lips linger and brush. It’s barely a kiss, but it’s more than enough.

Having her in my arms, feeling that warmth blend with mine is actually all it takes—for me to realize that I simply can’t be a fucking bystander in this while some piece of shit continues to terrorize her.

That’s why that evening, when we’re back in L.A., I call Avery. “I need a favor,” I say.

“Sure thing, man. What’s going on?”

“I got a problem that I don’t know how to handle. Do you think maybe your cousin can shed some light on the situation?”

“Shit. That’s vague. Are you in some kind of trouble?”

“No.” At least, not yet. “Just have some questions that need some hard answers.”

“I’ll call him tomorrow. Invite him for a beer.”

21 Drew

“Ada Kelly?”I pin Santiago with a deadly stare. Part of me is excited over this sudden development in my friend’s career and part of me is upset I’m only finding out now, two days after he signed the contract. “Why didn’t you tell me anything?”

“I didn’t want to jinx it.” He starts pacing around my studio, the sound of his boots filling the space with heavy thuds. “And I didn’t want to bother you while you were off, getting your sexy on with the drummer boy.”

Huffing, I toss my towel at him, but my aim is shit and I miss by a few inches.

My attempt is met with a victorious shit-eating smile. “So are you going to give me deets or do I have to read all about you and lover boy inPeoplemagazine.” Santiago flops into one of the plastic chairs and crosses his arms over his taut chest.

“Nothing happened.” I give him a one shoulder shrug and return to stirring the paint set on the floor in front of me. Off to the side lies the canvas that I simply callZanderbecause they’re all imprints of his body, the ones that I at first, right after our falling out, ripped apart and then spent two days salvaging the pieces.

In a way, it reminds me of our relationship. Torn and stitched together. Even better with all the flaws out in the open.

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