Page 24 of The Bloodfeather Promise
“Jesus, E.J.! What’s up with the hottie hanging out in front of your place? You owe him money or what?”
“Yeah,” Noah chimes in. “That guy dropped some serious green in my shop today. He’s not some kinda weirdo, is he?”
“He’s a good-looking weirdo. You should stickhimin the window instead of a pile of books, E.J. That’s some serious eye candy,” Devon advises, licking her lips.
Noah rolls his eyes at his girlfriend. “Will ya stop? Don’t I give you the “d” often enough to keep you from fantasizing about other men’s junk?”
“Eww. Don’t, Noah.” I take a sip of my Moscow Mule. We just got seats along the rail at the AlleyGator, a hip, open-air sidewalk bar situated on the Run. Great for people watching. Not ideal for the type of deep conversation we are about to have. “That’s the new owner of Lullaby Tides.”
“No way!” Devon squeals with delight. “He’s not just some nerd who loves books! So, when’s he gonna ask you out?”
I’ve never told a soul about what happened that night. Carly, my roommate at Belmont, is the only one who knows. I stayed at her family’s mansion in Laurel Canyon that weekend and Carly, brash and outspoken, flat out stated she would murder me if I didn’t treat Greyson like my own personal playground. “Youneedthis, Emerson,” she whispered in my ear, just before someone pushed me into the rockstar’s arms. “Now, go. Forget who you are. For just one night. Forget everything else.”
It was great advice then. Not so great now as my stomach twists into knots. How could I know the consequences of one wild night would come back to haunt me? There’s no way I can forget him if he keeps showing up at my bookstore. No way I’ll make it through the summer keeping this secret from my two best friends. They will know something isn’t right. Just like they knew my personal devastation when Justin broke up with me.
“I have something to tell you. And you both, especially you, Noah, will need to keep your cool.”
“You won the lottery,” Noah crows. “And, we’re going to Vegas!”
“You’re having Henry Cavil’s lovechild,” Devon mock-swoons, hands crossed over her heart, long eyelashes fluttering dramatically.
“Yup. You guessed it.” After a huge gulp of my drink, I blurt it out. Like ripping off a band-aid, it’s best done quickly. The quicker, the better. “When Carly Steverson and I went to Los Angeles for that concert, I met… someone.”
“No shit…” Noah grins. “You never mentioned this before. I’m guessing it didn’t go well? Oh, don’t tell me. Carly ruined it, didn’t she? Embarrassed you or something. Dancing on tables, hanging topless out the sunroof of the limo, or something equally stupid. E.J., that girl was always out of control, you know.”
I ignore Noah because he’s never cared for Carly. He thinks my college roommate used me as the straight girl during our four years at Belmont. “She didn’t ruin anything. In fact, she encouraged me… to be with him. By some unlucky twist of fate, he’s the new owner of Lullaby Tides.
Uh, and you see, since we always use the beach behind his house, he figured out I owned the bookstore. So, yeah. He came in the other day. To meet me.”
What an awkward explanation.
“Jesus,” Devon murmurs. “Creepy much? He admitted that?”
Obviously, my choice of words eludes both of them. They have no idea I’ve been with Greyson in the biblical sense. “He’s invited me to breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Wanted to walk me home from the bookstore.” I almost laugh and then sober, swirling the contents of the copper mug. “Offered to let me walkhimhome. I’ve refused, because…” My words trail off. How do I explainwhyI’ve refused?
“Well, I can understand why. Major stalker alert,” Noah says, his words coming out in a sympathetic rumble, just as I expected. He’s always been my champion, proving it time and time again. Two days after Justin broke my heart, Noah jumped on the first plane he could book for Nashville, marched straight up to the apartment of my former boyfriend and his new girlfriend, and calmly punched the captain of the football team right in the mouth. “That’s the only thing you’ll ever get from Emerson,” Noah told him. “You never did deserve her, and thank God she had the good sense not to waste herself on you.”
Rubbing my forehead, dreading what I think will come with my revelation, I avoid the twin gazes of my friends. “Why is this so difficult to explain? Okay. You see, this guy… he’s the first I’ve… you know… that I ever slept with. And, well, he didn’t know. To be honest, Greyson Finch doesn’t even remember me, much less remember that we spent the night together. And that’s all it was. One night. He… he basically tossed me to the curb the next morning.”
I let out a huge sigh, glancing around frantically for our waitress. What do you know? It actually feelsgoodsaying the words aloud.Damn.What a relief. I need another mule. Or something stronger. Maybe a shot of Crown.
For an eternity, there’s only the sound of the other diners. People drinking and laughing, vehicles slowly creeping by because traffic is at a virtual standstill like it always is after a big holiday weekend. Kids squeal and the clatter of glasses and cutlery undercuts“Deathtrap”,theKickstand Jennytune playing on AlleyGators’ sound system. The local band made it big, and their new song has been playing everywhere. It describes my situation perfectly. I’m caught in a deathtrap of my own making. Caught in the middle of a suicide hit and run where I’m the sole casualty.
Devon and Noah gape at me as if I’ve spontaneously burst into flames. In the middle of a snowstorm.
“What the hell…” Devon whispers, eyes wide. Is she shocked because I’m no longer a virgin and I didn’t tell her sooner? Or because an infamous rockstar popped my cherry, giving me more orgasms than I could possibly count on one hand?
“Motherfucker!” Noah’s tone is a bit louder. His balled fist slams down on the bar railing. The older couple seated at the high-top table behind ours throws a disapproving glance in our direction. “I knew something was wrong after you graduated from Belmont. It wasn’t just your Grandpop passing and all the fucking problems that asshole Justin caused. How the hell did you meet someone in Los Angeles, anyway? Did he hurt you, E.J? Did he… oh, goddamn it.” The words whistle out on a low breath of disbelief as the information sinks in. “Goddamn it, Emerson!TheGreyson Finch? SevenfuckingSeconds’Greyson Finch?”
Noah whirls away, hands laced against the back of his neck, presumably so he won’t punch something or someone. I can’t help but giggle now. This is twice someone uttered the band’s name the same way. Like it really is a curse. Seven Fucking Seconds…it does have a nice ring to it. And the guitarist is fucking crazy, in case you didn’t know.
Devon is still staring at me. Noah is vibrating.
“Everyone, calm down.” I sound so composed when I’m so far from it. I am literally on the verge of hysterical laughter. “Noah, look at me. Please.”
He finally turns. Just one look at his watery eyes and clenched teeth, and Devon and I fly into his arms. His girlfriend and his friend-girl. Devon hugs me. I hug her. And we both embrace Noah, who squeezes us tightly.
“I wasn’t there looking after you.” Noah’s voice is scratchy with regret. “I should have been there. I promised your Grandpop I’d look after you. This guy took advantage of you, didn’t he? That’s the only explanation…”
