Song Chaser (Chasers) Read online

  Something isn’t right.

  For what feels like an excruciatingly long eternity, we just stand there. His eyes take me in, all of me, even though they never roam from the grip they have on my own eyes. Finally, I find my voice.

  “Hi.”

  It’s like that one word, that one syllable sound that emerged from my mouth broke him. His lip shakes and his face wrinkles like he’s about to cry, but instead a breathy, painful groan escapes his lips instead. It’s like his body refuses to let him shed anything remotely close to a sob.

  He whispers something and turns away from me, pushing his forehead to the wall opposite my apartment door and resting his fist in the air like he wants to punch something but is refraining.

  “Tanner?”

  “Mariah’s dead,” he says loudly, his voice foreign as he turns back to me. His face is steady, his jaw hard as the words leave his lips.

  I don’t know what to do, what to say. My heart breaks and my hand flies up to cover my shaking lips. Immediately, tears spring to my eyes, my will to fight the emotion clearly not as strong as Tanner’s.

  “Oh my God,” I whisper, shaking my head. “Oh Tanner, I am so sorry.”

  He nods, his eyes falling to my feet. “I didn’t know where to go.”

  We both just stand there again, and I feel like I should invite him in but for some reason I can’t. No matter how much my body craves his, no matter how my heart aches for him right now, my brain is fighting to remind me that the source of my recent pain is standing two feet from me and shouldn’t be allowed any closer.

  “Come home with me,” his honey eyes shoot up to mine.

  “Tanner,” his name leaves my lips steadier than I thought it would.

  “Please,” he chokes, his façade breaking just a bit. “I’m picking up my car from my aunt’s and driving to Georgia for the holiday. I want you to come with me. Please.”

  I chew the inside of my cheek, knowing I should just say “no” and shut the door. But I don’t want to say no. I don’t want to let him do this alone, no matter what has transpired between us. He may not be mine, and I may not be his, but he could have gone anywhere – done anything – when he found out about Mariah. Yet here he is, standing at my door more broken than I’ve ever seen him, knowing that the last time we spoke I shut a cab door in his face and drove away from him. If he can bite his pride and admit that he needs me, even if it isn’t in the way I wish he did, can’t I not be a shitty human being and just be there for him?

  I guess the better question is – can I be there for him without asking him for more than he can give me?

  “Let me pack a bag.”

  * * *

  When Tanner told me we had to take a cab out of the city to his aunt’s house to pick up his car, I didn’t know that A – he even had a car, because who lives in New York City and needs one? And B – he not only had a car, but a bad ass, holy shit, this-thing-is-sexy car. We’ve been driving for two hours now and I’m still not tired of seeing the stares as we drive by other commuters on the highway. Maybe it’s because I’m sitting shot gun, the windows down and my hair blowing around like crazy. I kind of feel like I’m in a movie.

  We haven’t said much of anything since we left my apartment, but I can feel Tanner relaxing more every second. It’s weird because I kind of feel the same thing happening to me. It’s like when he first showed up at my door, we were both wound tight – tense and fragile. Now, as we drive with the music blasting and the cool air blowing all around us, I feel it cleansing us both. Each whip of wind takes a little of the edge off.

  “At the risk of sounding like an ignorant little girl, what kind of car is this?” I finally ask, breaking the silence as I pull my coat tighter around me. Tanner said the drive to his parent’s house would take around 12 hours and I am definitely not going to sit here in this heavy quietness for that long.

  “1957 Chevy Bel Air,” Tanner says, turning the music down a little. “It was my grandpa’s, and then my dad’s. Now it’s mine.” He doesn’t smile as he speaks, but his words are warmer than when he showed up at my door earlier. I think the farther we get away from the city, the better he feels. Yet, I can’t deny the electricity in the air between us. Our bodies were so used to touching, to feeling the other in close proximity. Now, it kind of feels like forbidden territory – like we’re on a first date and our parents are watching us.

  “It’s pretty bad ass.”

  Tanner forces a soft smile, “Glad it has your approval. Are you cold?”

  I realize I’m shivering a bit, but I like the feel of the cold wind and I don’t want him to roll the windows up. “I’m good.”

  He gives me a sideways glance that tells me he doesn’t believe me, but doesn’t press it. I check my phone and see another text from Mee Ma, but it’s still just as weird as the first time I got a text from her.

  - We will be fine, so stop worrying like I know you are. Have a little fun for once. –

  - This weekend isn’t about fun, I just don’t want him to be alone. And who’s going to cook the turkey? –

  I cook every year for Thanksgiving. When Mom left, Mee Ma started really showing me around the kitchen. Thanksgiving became a learning day for me, and after a few years when she thought I was ready, she made me do it on my own. I kind of love it, actually – the pressure of making everything just right and the warm feeling I get when I see everyone around the table enjoying the food I prepared.

  - I can handle the gobbler, you just worry about your cock. –

  - Mee Ma! –

  - ;) –

  I shake my head and shove my phone in my coat pocket, looking out the window once more. A few minutes go by before Tanner speaks again.

  “Thank you,” he says, not taking his eyes off the road. “For coming with me.”

  I’m not sure what to say, so I just kind of nod and look out the window again. I’m conflicted, knowing there’s still so much shit between us that we need to talk about but also knowing that now isn’t the time to talk about it. My body wants to relax, to fall back into the comfort that Tanner gave me just two weeks ago, but my head remains focused on rebuilding the walls I let him take down.

  This time, installing a barbed wire component at the top, too.

  I’m pretty sure my head is scowling at me right now.

  Probably my heart, too.

  Tanner sighs heavily, running his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, Kellee. For that night at The Box. For everything, really. You don’t owe me anything and if I were you I would have slammed your apartment door in my face.” He pauses a moment, repositioning his hand on the steering wheel before continuing, “I know saying sorry doesn’t make up for anything, but I just want you to know I won’t make the same mistake I did before. I won’t drag you into my shit anymore. I respect you too much and, honestly, it fucking killed me that I hurt you. I know what a miserable piece of shit I am and I knew better than to make promises to you that I knew I couldn’t keep.”

  It’s not the apology I want, it’s not him telling me that Paisley can fuck off and that he wants to be with me, but it’s honest. I can’t deny that, and I guess that’s all I can really ask for, even if it does sort of piss me off. But, if I’m telling the truth, it’s just as much my fault as it is his.

  “That’s the thing, Tanner,” I turn to face him. “You didn’t promise me anything. You told me what it was and what it wasn’t, but I wanted more. I knew what we were when this all started but then,” I stumble, trying to find the words. “Shit, I don’t know, it just changed. We both got in deeper than we meant to.”

  He nods. Silence again.

  “Is it selfish that I still want you?”

  His words slam into me, my chest heavy with their weight.

  “Yes,” I breathe, staring straight ahead at the cars laid out in front of us. The air in my lungs feels thick, heated. “You can’t say shit like that to me anymore, Tanner.”

  His jaw tenses and he gives a curt nod, “Then I w
on’t.”

  I swallow the lump in my throat, “Okay. So we’re clear on what this is, and what it isn’t? For real, this time?”

  “Friends,” he says, though it kind of sounds like a question.

  “Friends,” I repeat. “Just friends.”

  He seems to be processing it, then he smiles and leans back a little, relaxing in his seat. “Sweet. So does that mean I can fart in front of you now?”

  My jaw drops and I turn to smack him on the arm, “Ew! I said friends, not fraternity brothers.”

  We both laugh and I feel the tension melt away a little more as Tanner turns the music up louder. Everything isn’t fixed, everything isn’t okay, but at least a line has been drawn. It’s clear now what we are, and at least that’s a step.

  I just hope I can stay on my side of the line.

  Chapter 15

  Windows

  Tanner

  We pull off at a gas station just a few hours out of my hometown to fill up and grab something to eat. As I fill the tank, my eyes wander the length of Kellee’s legs as she walks toward the store. I know I can’t touch her anymore, that I’ll never be able to do the things I want to do to her, but I can’t help but stare. No bullshit, she is the sexiest girl I’ve ever known. Judging by the looks she’s getting from others in the parking lot, looks that she doesn’t even acknowledge, it’s clear I’m not the only one who thinks so. And that’s the sexiest part about her – it’s effortless, she doesn’t even have to try and yet she stuns the shit out of everyone around her.

  I watch the numbers change on the pump and tuck my hands into my pockets deeper, the cold seeping through. My mind races with Mariah – with how she was too sweet and too damn innocent to die this young, with how I wish someone like me could have taken her place, with her mom and how I wish I wouldn’t have ran like a pussy so I could be there to help her. It’s the day before Thanksgiving and she lost her only daughter. Suddenly, my running seems a hell of a lot more childish.

  I also can’t deny that I’m strung out on the talk Kellee and I had earlier. I knew she wouldn’t just forgive me and we couldn’t go back to how things were, but I’d be lying if there wasn’t a huge part of me that wished for it and had hope that maybe I’d be a lucky son of a bitch and it would happen. Truthfully, I guess I should still consider myself lucky. After what I’ve put her through, Kellee shouldn’t ever want to see my face again, let alone be riding halfway across the country with me and being a better friend to me than I think anyone else ever has been. Honestly, I’m not even sure Paisley would drop everything during a holiday weekend to do something like this with me, and she’s the best friend I have.

  Kellee jogs back out to the car with two bags swinging from her arms, little clouds of air escaping her lips, “It’s freaking cold!”

  “Oh NOW you admit it,” I tease.

  She flips me off playfully as we both slide back into the car. I don’t even have my seatbelt back on before she starts unpacking the bags. “I got us energy drinks, water for when we don’t want the sugary stuff anymore, beef jerky for protein, a bag of mixed chocolate candy bars because I wasn’t sure what kind you liked, and two bags of chips. I think I got us covered in the snack department.”

  “My mom is going to love you,” I laugh, grabbing the bag of beef jerky.

  “What?” Kellee asks, her face dropping. Shit, she’s probably reading way more into that statement than I intended.

  “You’ll understand what I mean when you see the spread tomorrow,” I clarify, throwing the car into gear. She nods and smiles, but I can still see the wheels turning in her head. My mom and dad were both a little shocked when I told them I was bringing Kellee. My dad asked if my bed was going to be jealous. But all jokes aside, I knew they were going to adore her, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say that made me a little uneasy. It’s easy to explain a girl best friend that I fell in love with, but trying to explain Kellee and I would require a few hours and multiple shots of Jack.

  “Oh! And,” she says excitedly, reaching into the second bag. “I also got this!” She pulls out what has honestly got to be the ugliest bobble head I have ever seen and slaps it on my dash.

  “A squirrel?” I ask, its bobbing head and toothy grin causing me to tuck my lips in to avoid laughing.

  “Yep! The lady inside told me that it’s North Carolina’s state mammal. Isn’t he cute?”

  “He?”

  “Yeah! I named him Peanut,” she bops him on the head affectionately and his head bobbles out of control. I think back to the night we played 21 Questions and she told me how she used to love squirrels as a kid. She is so fucking adorable.

  “So what is it with you and squirrels, anyway? I know you said you used to love them as a kid, too, but you never said why.”

  Kellee shrugs, her eyes fixed on Peanut’s head as it continues bobbing. “I don’t know. I mean, I guess it’s because of my mom. We used to always go to this park by our house and there were a ton of squirrels there. One day, we grabbed a bag of peanuts and they walked right up to us and took them out of our hands. It was probably the coolest thing in the world to me at the time. I mean they were eating out of our hands!” she says excitedly. I laugh a little and she continues, “I started to ask for squirrel stuffed animals and stuff after that. When she left, I stopped going to the park, but I don’t know… I guess the squirrel thing just kind of stayed with me.”

  Her eyes grow softer and she stares out the front window, a contemplative look on her face. I wonder if she’s really as over her mom leaving as she puts off. She came out with it so openly when I walked in her apartment for the first time that it made it seem like she didn’t care. She said it almost as easily as telling someone the weather forecast. But now, seeing her talk about an actual memory with her mom, I’m not so sure that’s how she really feels about it.

  A million things run through my mind that I wish I could say to her right now, but every single one of them crosses the line we drew less than seven hours ago, so instead I just say, “Peanut. I like that name.”

  She turns to look at me and the giant smile appears on her face again, “Yeah?”

  “He’s perfect,” I say, returning her smile. She bites her lip and turns to look out the window again, that same awkward tension from before rearing its ugly head. I wish like hell I could hit rewind and take us back to that night at The Box before I screwed everything up.

  My eyes are stinging like hell from my contacts, probably due to my form of crying. I can’t remember the last time I actually cried, but when emotions surge in me I have a bad habit of rubbing my face and holding my eyes open wide so no tears have a chance to form. This usually leads to my eyes getting dry as hell, and right now they feel like sandpaper.

  I pull off just before we get back on the highway and reach in the backseat for my backpack, pulling out the lens container and removing my contacts. I slide on my glasses and pull right back on the road without so much as a minute passing. At first, I think I might be making it up but after a few moments I’m positive that Kellee is staring at me.

  “Got something to say, Frecks?”

  She snaps back to facing the front like I caught her with her hand halfway in the cookie jar. “Oh, um, no. I just, uh, I didn’t know you wore glasses, is all.”

  I lift my brow, questioning. “And what? Now you’re too cool to be with the nerdy four-eyed kid?”

  She laughs and relaxes, “No, it’s just that you look sexy as hell in them.” As soon as the words leave her mouth her eyes grow wide in shock and I know she’s cursing in her head, but she tries to stay cool. She leans forward quickly and turns the music up before looking out the window again. I don’t push her on it, but I can’t help the huge ass smile that settles on my face.

  Maybe I should wear these glasses more often.

  * * *

  It’s a little after midnight by the time we pull past the small “Welcome to Oak Springs, Georgia – Home of the World’s Best Granite” sign and into the drive
of my parents’ lake house. It’s a large, two story white house with forest green trim and accents. The front of the house makes it look like it’s only one story, but the view from the back reveals a deck that looks out on the lake and the lower floor that faces Mom’s garden. We moved here before I knew how to walk and it’s the only house I’ve ever known. It’s home.

  I don’t even have the chance to park before Mom is bursting out the door and jumping up and down like a small child. My mom is only 5’2, a stark contrast to my dad’s towering 6’4 frame, and she’s about as thick as my left bicep. She teaches Zumba at the local gym and has been kickboxing ever since I can remember. Right now, she’s being swallowed by her oversized sleep shirt and baggy pajama bottoms, her dark chestnut hair tied up in a sloppy nest on her head.

  “My baby boy is home!” she squeals, pulling me and my suitcase into a rib-crushing hug.

  “Way to go, mom. She already thinks I’m a nerd because of my glasses, now she’ll know I’m a momma’s boy, too,” I tease.

  “Oh!” she immediately drops me and runs for Kellee. “You must be Kellee. My goodness, aren’t you a pretty thing! We’re so excited to have you.” She takes Kellee in her arms and I can see that it’s a bit awkward for Kellee. I wonder if she’s thinking about her own mom.

  “Thank you, it’s really nice to meet you,” Kellee says softly, smiling.

  Mom turns back to me and gives me a strange look that I think means she’s trying to communicate to me that she thinks Kellee is hot. It looks more like she’s having a seizure, honestly.

  “Dad up?”

  “He passed out a few hours ago watching football highlights, but I’ll have him up bright and early helping me with the turkey so you can see him then. I’m sure you two are tired, anyway.”