Sidewalk Flower (41 page)

* * * *

Seconds before she would have given up on
him coming through for her, Jaxon pulled up.
 
The passenger side door flew open from the inside.
 
She would have to thank Stefan later for
loaning Jaxon his baby.
 
Her right foot
barely hit the floor mat before Jaxon gave it too much gas and jumped them
forward a few feet.
 

“For Christ’s sake, Jaxon, take it easy!
I appreciate your efforts, but I’d like to keep my legs intact here,” she
lashed out just as her head slammed into the seat.

“Sorry, Trissy.”

“No, you’re not.”
 
She huffed.
 

“I am.”

Fine, maybe he was.
 
But she wasn’t done and knew he’d put up with
whatever else she had to say.
 
Jaxon
shouldn’t have indulged her this way but he so obviously hadn’t gotten over the
guilt from cancelling on her, which at this point had to be the most ironic
thing she’d ever experienced, ever.
 
It
was impossible not to wonder how life would be at this very moment had Jaxon
not asked her to let Lucky take his place on that trip so she wouldn’t have to
go alone.
 
And here they were, a month
later with Jaxon’s hand-picked substitute being the one who wanted to steal her
away from the band.

“Sorry, old habit gettin’ outta places in
a hurry.”
 
He glanced in the rearview
mirror as he lurched forward again and nearly hit a well-dressed couple.
 
Stefan would kill him if she tattled.
 
“You want me to wait for Lucky?
 
He just came out.
 
I can turn around if you want.”

“No!”

“Ah shit, Trissy.
We on
the run from my cousin?
 
What’d he
do to you now?”
 

“Just drive, Jaxon.”
 

His turn to huff.

* * * *

He retraced his steps down the length of
the lobby, through the pristine glass doors of the front entrance and out onto
the valet curb.
 
Two things caught his
eye in the very same instant.
 
First, an out-of-place yellow dandelion.
 
There wasn’t a speck of stray litter or a
ground up cigarette butt anywhere on this curb.
 
So it was strange that a weed had sprouted up unnoticed in the crack of
the cement.
 

He bent down and plucked it up.
 
He’d always done that as a child, and then
carried it carefully to his mother’s grave on his family’s land.
 
He eyed it, but only for a second because
next, he saw the taillights of a very familiar make and model of car flame to
red.
 
He’d never seen another Saab in all
his years and the fact that Jaxon and Stefan each had one had amused him.
 
Jaxon’s was black so the white one that
practically jumped its way out of the valet’s long pull through had to be
Stefan’s.
 
A window rolled open and
instantly, long honey blonde tendrils flew out.
 

Trista was leaving in Stefan’s beloved
car, the one he insisted their road crew tow along to every tour stop as Ben
had let out when he’d asked about the fancy wheels, while Stefan remained
entertained in the lounge.
 
One guess at
who the driver had to be.
 
He gave no
more thought to the flower weed in his hand, stuffing it along with his chilled
fingers into the pockets of his jeans and stood there, waiting for her to come
back.
  

* * * *

 
If she could beat back the fear inside her gut that had bloomed in the
wake of Lucky’s proposal by the morning, then maybe she could show him her face
again.
 
But not right now.
 
She glanced back as they drove off and saw
the tall, square-shouldered figure she knew to be Lucky, standing upright on
the clean curb she had just stood on, his hands in his jean’s pockets, looking
after the car.
 
Enough guilt heaped
itself on her in that instant that she almost asked Jaxon to take her back, if
only to give her time to assure Lucky she was physically okay.
 

But she couldn’t.
 

She had chosen to settle for the least
level of discomfort in her world at the moment.
 
That happened to be Jaxon—boss, former roommate, best friend. The titles
saddened her.
 
They just didn’t mean as
much anymore.
 

She cast her eyes to her palm and settled
her brow bone against the cool car window.
 

“You got any specific place in
mind?”
 
Jaxon asked.
 
“I can only drive aimlessly for so
long.”
 

“No, I have no idea.
 
I obviously didn’t plan a route.”
 
Scooching lower into her seat, her body began
to take on the oversized, exaggerated form of a curled up lima bean.
 

 
“Are we in the D.C. part or the Virginny
part?”
 

“Oh my god, seriously,
Jaxon?”
 
See, this was why she could never leave,
because Jaxon would literally be lost without her.
 
Thank God they’d stayed at the same hotel or
he’d have never gotten to her tonight.
 
“Virginia.”
 
He’d annoyed her and
she shot him a look that said so.
 

“Right, I knew that.”
 
The inside corner of his lip puckered inward,
although he still managed to look tough.
 
Jaxon was Australian through and through, always such an easy study in
body language.
 
He didn’t believe in
wasting energy on hiding what was on his mind, usually.
 
Even though she figured he must be at least
somewhat on edge inside, his concentration seemed bent on keeping them
relatively safe and on the road.
 
Which
she had to admit, was nice.

“Yeah.”
 
She still couldn’t believe how they’d let
things become so awkward.
  

It was then that Vangie’s sultry, devious
face crept into Trista’s mind and mentally cussed her out for being a home
wrecker.
 
Something Vangie had slurred at
her a few times in their real lives.
 
Sadly, she realized the woman was right.
 
Except it wasn’t only Jaxon’s home she was wrecking, it was the future
one Lucky had just offered.

This was going to be a long night.

But it was only a temporary
distraction.
 
Another thought of Lucky
tore at her, his sincere and heartbreaking voice touched by the country.
 
The blue eyes she hadn’t been able to say yes
to.
 
She shut her mouth as Jaxon drove
on.
  

* * * *

It wasn’t gonna happen.
 
She was long gone.
 
He finally gave up and headed back inside,
his head and his pride hanging lower than low.

What didn’t she want him to be mad
about?
 
There could only be one
thing.
 
The choice she’d made seemed as
clear as the expensive paneled glass he had just passed by.
  

After all that, his lady had chosen
Jaxon, again.

He made his way back to Trista’s room,
hoping not to run into anyone from her world. He’d seen his bag in the corner
and needed it so he could pack his things and leave.
 
As soon as he opened the door, he missed her.
 
Wanting to make sure he had his own room key,
he shoved a hand into his pocket.
 
The
little dandelion he’d forgotten about fell out onto the floor.
 
In his stupor, he picked it up and set it on
her nightstand, knowing he’d probably never get to tell her why it was so
special.
 
Then he went over and retrieved
his bag.
 
He wouldn’t need the
guitar.
 

Without a backward glance, he left her
room, heading for his, shaking his head in utter disbelief.
 

What did he expect?
 
Good karma wouldn’t reciprocate for a guy
like him.
 
He should have let Trista
speak during the call when he’d made it back to Tennessee.
 
After the way he’d left things and the dodgy
night he’d nearly spent with the girl from Slanger’s, he knew that Trista
deserved better, even though at the time he felt she’d given herself to
Jaxon.
 
It didn’t excuse his
actions.
 
It didn’t take away how bad he
felt, even though the plan had been nothing more than to stab back at Jaxon for
taking Trista from him.
 
Or more accurately, for refusing to let her go.

She’d said it herself, that she didn’t
want any more apologies from people who weren’t supposed to hurt her in the
first place.
 
And he was full of
them.
 
Once he was inside his room, he
fell onto his bed.
 
He would pack when he
could think straight again.

* * * *

Jaxon continued along the frontage roads
as Trista fumed inwardly, her jaw so tight, a new level of tension headache
began to set in. She didn’t care that it was freezing cold out.
 
She lowered her window some more to let the
velocity of their speed and the wind carry her outstretched arm in turbulent
drifts.
 
Blasts taunted Jaxon’s dirty
blonde hair, still coiffed in the Elvis-like stage poof she’d given him
earlier.
 
He didn’t complain as she knew
he wouldn’t.
 

The hotels they were passing now weren’t
nearly as sparkly as the Ritz.
 
How nice
it would be to have a room at one of these.
 
Away from everything.
 
Then they were on the freeway, heading
southwest, presumably back toward the venue.
 
She was sure Jaxon didn’t know any other location.
 
Her cell phone rang in her smock dress
pocket.

At least Jaxon had waited for the third
ring before butting in.
 
“You gonna
answer that?” She didn’t appreciate the older brother tone, one she’d heard
more than occasionally throughout their past.

She couldn’t answer.
 
It was Lucky’s number.
 
She hadn’t thought anything through yet,
still stuck simmering in her confusion.
 
If he wanted more from her than a few pleasantries, they would be left
back where they were when she’d fled the hotel.
 
The ringing stopped.
 
And then a
few seconds later, began again.
 
It was
Lucky.

“Come on, Trissy, answer the damn
phone.”
 

It was easy for him to say.
 

Jaxon snatched the phone from her
hand.
 
Her mouth fell open and her
eyebrows furrowed to the point of almost becoming one.
 
She grabbed for it but her attempts caused
Jaxon to swerve so she let go.

“Hello?” Jaxon huffed out.
 
“Yeah, Lucky?
 
Hang on a minny, here she is.”
 
He came close to shoving the phone in her
face.
 
Reluctantly, she took it into her
hand and spoke quietly.
 
Ashamed, she
hoped Lucky would be in an understanding mood.

“Hi,” she said as she bit at a loose
cuticle, leaving it all the more tender and raw.

“Trista?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, well, I was worried, I wanted to
make sure you were okay…You’re with Jaxon,” Lucky stated slowly, giving each
word plenty of time to cut into her.

“Lucky, I’m sorry for the way I left you
there.”
 
She paused but he had no
response for her so she continued, not wanting him to worry.
 
“Um, I’m just on a drive, clearing my head.”

“Can I ask where you’re heading to?
 
In case anyone wants to know.”
 
The southern notes of a true gentleman
softened his voice, making it hard to hear the anger, but she knew it must be there.
 
He’d asked her to leave everything behind, to
be his.
 
And she’d walked blankly out of
the room.

“Tonight’s venue.”
 
She glanced toward Jaxon, knowing better than
to assume with him.
 
He nodded back to
her.

“Trista, are you coming back
tonight?
 
Should I wait for you?”
 
Lucky’s voice had a way of claiming her
without saying the words.