That song…its meaning…
Is he saying what I think he’s saying?
Because if he’s saying what I think he’s saying, then—
“So, do you have a song that reminds you of me?” His voice breaks into my thoughts.
I rub my head, trying to gather my wits. “Oh, um…yeah…‘Gorilla.’” I force a smile to my face.
He lets out a laugh. “Because I’m a beast in the sack, right?”
“More like, because you tortured me with it when you were on your text message roll in that diner.”
He lets out another laugh, taking us both down to the bed.
Tucking me into his side, he starts to stroke my hair.
But I’m still stuck in my head, stuck on that song. I run the lyrics over and over in my mind, wondering if Tom just said that because it reminds him of that amazing moment under that stage…or, if because he also feels the meaning of the song.
If he does, then what does that mean for him and me? And do I want it to mean something?
Could it mean something? Could someone as emotionally broken as I am and someone like Tom, who is as emotionally closed off as he is, have something together?
I close my eyes on the thought.
And when I open them, squinting against the morning light, Tom is gone, and I have my answer.
Five Days Later—Last Night of the Tour, A Club, San Diego
Tom has been pulling away from me.
After our night in Vegas, he changed toward me.
Barely talking to me during the day, when he did, it was related to work. He stopped actively seeking me out to have sex during the day. Avoiding being alone with me.
Only at night when the guys were sleeping, would Tom come to my bed.
I wanted to ask him what was wrong, but I didn’t for fear that I wouldn’t like his answer.
Each night, we would have sex for hours. There was no talking. Only our bodies communicating. Sometimes, it felt like Tom was making love to me, but I’m not naïve enough to believe that’s what it was.
Then, when we were done having sex, and I was replete and exhausted, I would fall asleep in his arms.
And I would wake to an empty bed.
I’ve lost him.
I knew it would happen. Just not like it this.
Now, the last show of the tour is finished, and after tonight, Tom and I are done.
I’m telling myself it’s the right thing, what should happen. It’s what we agreed on. What I wanted.
But my heart is telling me different. It’s wanting more. Him.
I desperately want to fight my feelings for Tom, but for once, my heart seems to be winning the war against my head.
My heart can war and want all it does, but Tom isn’t in the same place as me.
Sure, little things he’s done and said have had me thinking he might have feelings for me.
But I know who Tom is. And these last five days, he’s spent reminding me exactly where we stand with each other.
We’re in San Diego, only a few hours from home, so the plan is to stay in the club that we just played, celebrating with the rest of the crew. Then, the bus will take us home, and that’ll be the end of the tour.
The end of everything.
I haven’t seen Tom since we came offstage.
I’m worried that he’s left. That I won’t even get to have one last night with him. Wishing I knew last night, so I could have made the most of the time. I would have memorized every second.
The DJ is on at the moment, and Fall Out Boy’s “Thanks for the Memories” starts to pump out of the speakers.
I’m standing at the bar with Shannon and Ashlee, my hands nursing a bottle of beer, as my body starts to sway to the music.
I feel a hand on my shoulder. A smile comes to my mouth, hoping for Tom, I turn and come face-to-face with Robbi Kraft.
My smile drops.
I managed to successfully avoid Robbi at the one other show we had together, so it’s just my dumb fucking luck that I have to see him on my last night.
“Lyla.”
I put my bottle down on the bar. Then, I stare at him. If I could strike a man dead with a look, Robbi Kraft would be on the floor, out cold, right now.
“What do you want?” My voice is tight.
“Look…” He scratches his head. “I just want to apologize—”
“Don’t waste your breath because I won’t accept your apology.”
I turn to walk away, but he grabs my arm.
“Just hear me out—”
“No. I’m not interested in anything you have to say. Now, let go of my arm.” I yank it free.
“Lyla?”
My body freezes cold.
No. God, no. Not now.
I turn slowly. Then, feel like I’m going to die on this very spot as my eyes collide with Dex’s.
Everything else around me fades to black.
Dex steps toward me.
I want to move, but I can’t get my legs to work.
All I can think is, He’s here. Is Chad here? And how much I need to get away.
“How-how are you?” Dex pushes his hand through his hair in that nervous way he’s done ever since we were kids.
“Why are you here?” My voice barely gets out the words.
My eyes start to scan the crowd, looking for Cale or Sonny…Tom.
I need Tom.
I see Robbi walking away, making his way back through the crowd. I can’t even be relieved that he’s leaving, because I’m too full of panic that Dex is here.
Tom, where are you? I call out a silent plea.
Dex takes another step closer.
My legs finally awaken, and I step back.
I see the hurt pass over his face at my physical rejection of him.
Good. Hurt. I want you to hurt exactly like you hurt me.
“My band…we’re playing here,” Dex answers my question. “We’re on in an hour.”
How did I not know this?
Then, I realize that I never knew the name of his band. Aunt Steph never gave me it, and stupidly, I never asked.
“I have to go…”
I’m backing away when he reaches out and grabs my hand.
“Wait…Ly, I need to talk to you.”
“Don’t touch me!” I yank my hand from his, like he’s scalded me. Because he has. He burned my heart a long time ago.
“Please, Ly, I miss you…I miss my sister. I need to talk to you. I need you to know how sorry I am. Make you understand—”
“Understand what? How you fucked my boyfriend behind my back? What do you want from me, Dex? Forgiveness? Because I can’t give that to you. I want you to leave me the hell alone. Stop calling. Just get the fuck out of my life.” My body is shaking so hard that my teeth are chattering together. I clench my jaw.