Page 121 of Reverb
“I’m not gonna blow smoke up your ass, if that’s what you were expecting.” Adrian took a pull from his beer. “But I will tell you it’s fixable.”
“How?”
“All this shit you’ve told me? Go tell her. She damn well wants to hear it. More importantly, she fucking deserves to hear it.” He paused. “If you think she’s gotten over you, you really need to do a lot more soul searching, dude.”
“Dude?” The way that came out was not at all New York City. “Since when do you say dude?”
Adrian shrugged. “Remember my comment about California? Spent a bunch of years out there. Sometimes it comes back.”
“Shit ton I don’t know about you guys.” While it had been weeks and weeks on tour, and intense ones at that, that’s all it had been.
“There’s a solution to that problem.” Adrian took up his chopsticks again and started eating in earnest.
Sure was. Talking to Adrian was both a soothing balm and a bit like ramming his hands onto spikes. Hurt so damn much to have all David knew thrown back at him in no uncertain terms. But all of this—the beer and the food and the conversation—felt like a home he never had.
All he needed to do was reach out to Mish. Tell her the jumbled mess that was in his heart and head, and hope she was willing to forgive him. “Fine. I’ll call Mish.”
“There you go,” Adrian murmured. “Exactly.” He had an expression that could only be called one thing.
“You’re a fucking smug asshole, you know?” David’s stomach had settled down enough to demand more lo mein, so he dug in.
“Nah. That’s Zavier.” He paused. “Zav wears his heart on his sleeve for his friends, but can’t help trying to control the situation. I suppose I’m similar.”
“Yeah, you guys are. But you’re more laid-back.”
Adrian’s grunt was a different kind of noncommittal this time. “Maybe, maybe not. You’ll need to hang with us to figure that one out.”
Now that David was calmer, the food tasted pretty darn good, especially the lemon chicken. “You know, you almost sound like you’re the one wooing me to come back to Twisted Wishes.”
That got him a bark of laughter. “In a way, I am. We’ve been at loose ends with some things, and Ray’d love your advice. Hell, if I hadn’t asked Dominic to keep your text and my visit tucked up nicely in his makeup box, I’m sure Ray would be here hounding you with some job offer or another.”
That froze David. “Really? After fucking up the way I did?”
“You mean taking a knife while protecting Mish?”
David fell silent, and the wound in his side tingled.
“How is it, anyway?”
Beer first, then he answered. “Better. Gonna take a little more time to be fully healed.” He set down his bottle. “Guy probably wouldn’t have had a knife if I hadn’t been in all those photos with Mish.” He kept his tone even.
Adrian chose the same tone to reply. “You know that’s a fucking lie, right?”
There was nothing he could say.
Adrian pushed his empty plate aside and speared David with a steady, unflinching gaze. “The fucker in question would have brought that knife, regardless. Most likely Mish, or one of the guys, or Marcella, ormewould’ve ended up with a knife in our body. Don’t think we don’t all know this.”
“My job—”
“Yeah, exactly. You put your life on the line for Mish, and for us and—” Adrian cut himself off, then pushed back from the table, stood, and gathered his plate. “You should call Mish.”
Adrian retreated to the kitchen sink, and David studied the empty chair and the back of the man who’d been there. “This isn’t about Mish anymore, is it?” Adrian’s reactions were too personal.
Without being asked to, Adrian rinsed the dish, then placed it in the sink. “It’s about you.” He didn’t turn around. “You left Mish. That broke her heart—and yours, too. That’s what you need to fix, for both of you.”
David grabbed his plate and stood, too. “But?”
“When you left Mish, you left the rest of us, too.” Adrian’s voice was soft. He turned around, and the tight smile he wore didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s not the same as with Mish, but don’t think you weren’t missed by the rest of us, for who you are and what you bring to our group.”
