Page 57 of Hold Still

McKenna

SHELIA AND Isit in the bar, sipping margaritas. We were lucky to snag a table in the back, away from the crush at the front. A girls’ night out is just the break from Ozzy’s magnetic pull I need. I’m so happy she reached out to me today.

I lost touch with Shelia after high school, only reconnecting with her after everything went down with Matt. She doesn’t know what happened during those intervening years—no one does since Matt and I were living in a different county and the local press here didn’t pick up the story—and I intend to keep things this way. Despite what my therapist told me, I know it’s my burden to bear.

She puts her glass down. “So tell me—did you two have fun skydiving?”

The thrill of that day floods my body. “Yes. It was really fun.”

“You two looked great together. When did you start dating?”

I lean my head on the wall at my back. “I already told you. We’re not dating. I’m helping him out with his new songs.”

She gives me a hard stare. “I know what I saw, and that wasn’t a platonic outing.”

I swivel my head against the wall and sigh. “Honestly, we’ve only fooled around a little. Haven’t even gotten to second base.” At least within the past year. Not for his lack of trying, though. What’s wrong with me? He’s great in bed and he obviously wants me. His dedication to his craft rivals my own. Why am I fighting this so hard?

Because Matt not only took Daddy from me, but also crushed any hope I had at love.

“Goodness, why not? I’d jump him in a second if I had the chance.” She fans her face.

“He’s a player.”

“Well, true. You know about his towel tossing, right?”

“Yep.”

“Word is his Penthouse is well-used every night. I’m not saying you should marry the guy, but I can’t imagine what it would be like to have him for one night.”

“He is pretty terrific.” I push my hair back. Time to change the color again. Bright red feels right.

“So youhaveslept with him.” She nudges my shoulder. “Spill.”

My cheeks inflate, but the rest of my body feels heavy. “We’ve hooked up a couple of times over the years. No strings.”

“Lucky girl.”

“I guess.” Why don’t I feel lucky? “It’s hard to consider yourself lucky when Ozzy spreads the luck around.”

We spend the rest of the evening catching up—she discusses her mostly unfulfilling dating life and I tell her about the Project. When the clock strikes midnight, like Cinderella, I leave and return home. My thoughts repeatedly return to the man who sang his heart out sitting on the stage tonight.

Pulling into the driveway, the house is lit up like a Christmas tree. Shit. Not a good sign. IknewI shouldn’t have stayed out so late. I try the front door, but it’s locked. “Thank you,” I whisper and let myself in.

Mom stands motionless in the middle of the floor.

All of my thoughts about Ozzy disappear as I rush to her side. “Mom! Mom, are you alright?”

In what seems to take forever, she turns her head and points to the shabby carpet. “Don’t you see it?”

Adrenaline oozes out of my body. At least she’s not hurt. “See what?”

“The crater. It’s getting bigger all the time!” She shakes her finger.

Nothing’s amiss in the room. I shake my head. Using a soothing tone, I respond, “No, Mom, I don’t see it. Your mind must be playing tricks on you.”

Her eyes round. “Really?”

“Yeah.” I place my hand on her arm. “Here, let’s get you to bed, alright?”

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