Page 38 of Out of the Blue

I focus my attention to the sofa, tracing the pattern with my finger. Keeping my gaze fixed to the navy material, I ask, “Think it’ll work?”

“I hope so. Worth a shot.”

I nod. “But the credit cards want their pound of flesh, too. I keep telling them to go after Big Rolls. Hell, he owns the used car dealership, so he should be good for the money.”

He remains quiet for a full minute as if debating something internally. Finally, he answers, “Well, true, but the cards are in your name. I suggest you do the same thing. Figure out how much you can pay them and enter into an agreement. That’ll take them off your back, so long as you make your payments. And you can sue his ass.”

My lip curls at his final suggestion. “You make it all sound so easy.”

His large hand covers mine, the calluses from playing the guitar strumming over the back of my palm. I calculate how much money I could spare on a monthly basis, which isn’t much. But once the tuition is off my plate, I could bump up the amount. Maybe this could work? At least I’ll be taking charge instead of being their victim.

I find my voice. “I need to make some calls.”

His beaming smile warms my body. I lean over and kiss him, letting my tongue grapple with his for a prolonged moment. I’d much rather stay here with him than have to deal with this mess.

Too soon he pulls away. “Go make the calls.”

I bring my face even with his and tug on one of his dreads. “One more for good luck?”

With the taste of his kiss on my lips and his parting swat on my ass, I go into the bedroom and place the first call.

* * *

Rubbing my temples, I allow the success of my phone calls to wash over me. No one was happy with the results, but at least my sister can go to school, and debt collectors will quit harassing me. And my mother. A small step toward victory.

Sighing, I review the notes I took during the two painful phone calls. Over debts that rightfully aren’t mine. The numbers I agreed to are doable, but my budget for other areas of my life will have to be cut even more. If TLR wins this competition and becomes Hunte’s permanent opening band for the rest of the tour,andif I’m kept on as their social media manager, then I’ll be able to breathe much easier. Maybe I can even tell Mamá I’m moving out of her apartment and stop paying her rent, since I won’t be back in New Jersey for months.

My musings stray to the man in the other room. His success is linked to my being able to eat, or at least end with the Ramen noodles and free bagels courtesy of Rita. Folding up my notes, I slip the papers into my laptop case and return to the living room.

“Done.”

He stands and wraps me in his arms. “Great! What did they say?”

Breathing in his perennial beachy scent, I tell him the results. “Thanks for encouraging me to reach out to them. You were right. They were just as happy as I was to make a deal and get me off their radar. So long as I make these payments, all the calls will end.”

Trent hugs me tight, and I revel in his warmth. He feels so steady, so strong, so steadfast. I hug him back and pray for this feeling to last. Knowing it won’t.

“Wonderful news. I’m so happy this is off your back.”

We remain locked together until my heart begs for more. Stuffing its stupid desire away, I reply, “Thank you.”

He pushes my hair away from my face, his lips ticking upward. “You’re welcome.”

Standing so close yet not close enough, we stare at each other. He’s so handsome. His next words bring me back down to reality. “We’re dating now, yeah?”

Dating? I’ve only ever dated one guy and that ended in a disaster for me on every level. Yet things are different with Trent. He opened up to me about things he hasn’t even told his bandmates. I’ve shared more with him than any guy. About my family life. My finances. But dating? I swallow.

“I. Umm. Are we?”

He pulls my now icy body to his. “You’re freezing.” He rubs his hands up and down my back and I sink into his warmth, although tension keeps me rigid. Can I trust him with my heart? Is this even possible?

“I’ve shared more with you than anyone on earth.” He kisses me. “And you’re damn smart. Plus, you don’t let me get away with any shit.”

I offer a half-laugh. “I don’t know. I have a ton of baggage in the relationship department.”

“Believe me, I get it. I had a girlfriend who lied to me, and Mom’s lie has fucked with my head. I now expect women to lie to me. But you haven’t.”

“And I never will.” I kiss his cheek. “But I don’t know about dating.” I focus on his chin and mumble, “Everyone leaves me.”

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