CHAPTER FIVE
ADAIR

“Hey.” Griffin stops me just before I reach the door leading outside of the chapel. “Got a second?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be with your wife right now?” My stomach immediately pinches in a knot. Griffin hasn’t done anything wrong. “I’m sorry, bro. I—”

“Don’t worry about it.” He puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “I know this has been tough on you. I’m sorry. London and I appreciate you being here.” It’s his wedding day and he’s worried feeling guilty because of me.

I’m a performer. I can do this. “It hasn’t been hard at all. I’m happy for you and our rockstar Cinderella.” The showman’s smile almost comes natural by now. “You two are perfect together.”

His eyes light up as he turns his head just enough to catch a glimpse of his new bride. Not a single day goes by that I don’t wish I hadn’t screwed up my one and only chance to ever look at someone that way. “Anyway, I really need to get some air. This stupid clown suit you made me wear…” I tug at the bowtie around my neck, which gets caught in the bulky silver skull ring on my finger. “It’s not my thing.” I yank the tie free and stuff it in my pocket.

My overly protective brother finally steps to the side to let me pass. I pretend to miss the look he gives me on the way out the door as he says, “See you soon.”

“I’m not going anywhere, man. I just need to step outside and maybe blow off a little steam after being cooped up in this thing all afternoon. I’ll be back inside in plenty of time for you two to cut the cake.”

“We already cut the cake,” he deadpans.

Right. “Sorry, I—I’ll be back, alright.” I let the door close behind me and take a deep breath of fresh mountain air. It’s a nice change from what I’m used to in L.A. Griffin grew up practically overnight after meeting London. It’s made me think and shown me what I’m missing out on. I always thought keeping Carly at arm’s length was for the best—protecting her—from myself.

Maybe I’m just an idiot.

“Adair,” a familiar sweet voice calls my name from behind causing me to let out a slow steady breath.

“Hi, London,” I say, turning to give my new sister-in-law a kiss on the cheek. “Congratulations.”

Her cheeks blush, just slightly. “Thank you.” She looks back toward where Griffin is standing and talking with Ridge, the best production manager in the business. “I’m lucky.”

“I think we’re pretty lucky to have you and Carter in the family. We kind of adopted you both as soon as you signed on to the tour, but now it’s official.”

Her smile starts to fade. “Can I ask you something?”

“What’s wrong?”

She shakes her head slowly, keeping her eyes focused on the beautiful sunset happening just beyond the horizon. “Do you remember when I first met all of you?”

“Sure.”

“Do you also remember how hard I made it on Griffin?”

A laugh escapes before I even realize it. “You were not interested in the rockstar cliches and you made that very clear.”

“Poor Griffin did everything he could to prove that wasn’t who he is.” Her lips form a tight line as she slowly draws her focus from the sunset and over to me. “And that wasn’t fair to him.” She takes a seat in one of the white patio chairs that line the wooden deck. “Do you know what I mean?”

I nod slowly, taking the seat beside her. “I think so.”

“I’m not going to try and tell you what’s best for you, or Carly. I just want you to know that I understand.”

“What?”

She rests her hand on my forearm in a sweet sisterly attempt to comfort me. Why do they all think I need comforting? I’ve gotten along just fine, by myself, for this long. Why should that change now? “I know what it’s like to be stuck in a moment that threatens to define you—your life—and everything feels like it revolves around that single point in time.” She takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out as she looks back toward the sunset. “It doesn’t though.”

I snort. “You sure?”

“It feels like it does, but I swear… it doesn’t.” She pats me on the shoulder and stands up. “If you need someone to talk to, I just want you to know that you have someone who can understand, on a small scale, what you’re dealing with. I know you’ll do the right thing. You’re a great guy, Adair. I just wish you knew that about yourself.”

I scoff and roll my eyes, tossing myself against the back of the chair. “Right.”

“It took Griffin, and all of you, being patient and showing me just how different my life could be, but eventually I woke up. I want that same realization for you. You deserve to be happy.”

Happy? “The only time I was ever happy ended exactly twelve years, two months, and eleven days ago.”

“I know. I’m so sorry.”

“It is what it is, right?”

“You can be happy again if you just let yourself try.”

The door slams against the exterior wall of the small chapel with the only person on this planet I hate more than myself barreling through. “Stone, what the hell are you doing here?” I ask, jumping out of my seat to block him from running away like the coward he is.

“Well, if it isn’t the black sheep of the Miller family. How is the little emo bass player doing this evening?” His cheeks are even more sunken in than the last time I saw him, and the smell of alcohol has been replaced by something else entirely. It’s not any more pleasant.

My fists clench tighter with each word he says, but this is Griffin’s wedding. Don’t create a scene. “Didn’t Carly tell you to get lost?”

His jaw clenches.

That must’ve hit his ego hard.

“I guess I just can’t stay away.” His words drip with disdain and hostility. He’d like to take a swing at me just as much as I’d like to knock him to the ground right now. “Doesn’t matter, anyway,” he scoffs.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He sneers and nods toward the dance floor. “Maybe you hadn’t noticed, but she’s moved on… from both of us.”

“Just get lost, would you?” I grit my teeth. This is not the time or the place to pummel our former keyboard and synth player. “We were smart to replace you with London last year. Your brand reeks of cheap dives and holes-in-the-wall.”

“Don’t worry. I’m going.” He smirks at London and reaches for her hand, which she promptly jerks back. “I just wanted to give my congratulations to the bride first.”

“Thanks, but I think I hear Griffin calling.” She looks to me and makes a gag face before disappearing behind the chapel doors.

Stone better hope he disappears before Griffin finds out he’s here. “Maybe you should stick around until he comes out and pays you back for last time.”

“I think I’m good.” He flicks a cigarette butt on the ground and strolls off toward the parking area. “I’ll catch up with you later. I have a gig in a couple of hours.”

“Don’t forget to actually show up this time,” I call out over the sound of the music playing just inside.

He flips me off without turning around, and just keeps walking. He better hope he doesn’t show up again, because if it weren’t for the wedding he’d be leaving here in an ambulance. I tug the heavy wooden door open and just as I take my first step inside her gold dress shimmers from the dance floor, catching the light and drawing my focus in like a spotlight. Time feels as if it stands still as I watch her being spun around the floor in Ridge’s arms. Her smile… genuine and hopeful. She’s happy. He’s making her happy, something I’ll never be able to do—not after everything we’ve been through.

“Dare!” Travis holds out his arms wide, blocking my view of the dance floor. “We’ve been looking for you.”

I can’t do this. I grab my phone and flick the screen on. “I have to go.”

“Wait.” He reaches to grab my arm, but I’m already out the door and backing down the steps. “They’re getting ready to throw the bouquet.”

“Sorry.” I need to get out of here.

---

“You sure you want another one?” The bartender asks as he refills my glass with the world’s worst tasting whiskey.

“Just the drink, please. No therapy sessions today.” My finger taps the spot on the bar just in front of me. The layers of ring stains on the faded maple stain make me wonder just how many people have sat in this same barstool wishing their life could be different.

“You got it,” he says, sliding the drink across the worn bar top. “Listen,” he whispers, leaning over the bar and getting way too far into my personal space. “I know who you are, but don’t worry. Everyone else in here is too wasted to notice.”

I let out a low whistle. “You do, huh?”

“Sure do.” He pulls our debut album up on his phone. “Look how many times I’ve played this damn thing. You’re on constant repeat.”

This is the one place I didn’t expect having to run into a fan. It really looked more like a steel guitar kind of joint. “Thanks for your support,” I say, raising my glass then downing the drink in one quick chug.

He clicks his tongue against his teeth. “I know that look.”

A fan and chatty. It just gets better and better. “Sorry?”

“It was nineteen-seventy-seven. We were young and in love. The kind of love you never really expect to find, you know?”

Yep. I know all about that. “Uh-huh.”

 “The world was different then. Things were easier, or at least they seemed easier. We thought we had the world ahead of us.” He grabs an old photo that had been perched on the glass mirror behind the bar. “That’s her.” He smiles nodding toward the image of a young woman with long blonde hair tied back into a high ponytail. She’s holding on to a younger version of Mister Bartender with what looks like his letterman’s jacket slung around her shoulders. “I proposed to her the day that photo was taken.”

“What happened?” I bite the inside of my cheek, chastising myself for asking the question I should have kept to myself.

The smile on his face fades into a melancholy emptiness. It’s a look I identify with all too well. “Life.”

I nod. “Life’s a gut punch sometimes, isn’t it?”

“After I proposed, we didn’t want to wait. There’s an all-night chapel about a half-hour up the highway. That’s where we headed.” He pours a drink and slides it across the bar top to a cowboy perched at the other end of the bar. He looks like he’s having the same kind of day I’m having. “The other driver was going too fast when they took the curve,” he continues. “They told me she died instantly when she hit the pavement.” His face is strained from the memory. My heart breaks for him.

“I’m so… sorry.” My heart clenches inside my chest. His trip down memory lane is dragging up all kinds of things I’d rather just keep stuffed down. “I know what it’s like to lose someone you care about.”

“Nothing you do ever changes the past. We just have to keep going.” He shakes his head and rubs his hands against his cheeks the way people do when they’re trying to wake up after a bad dream. “I’m Gerald, by the way. Friends call me Germ.”

“Germ?”

“Middle school nickname that I couldn’t shake, so I decided to go with it.” His eyes are pleading with me for a distraction from the nightmare he just had to relive in his own memory. “Anyway, what’s your story?”

My story? “I don’t have a story.” I’m not ripping those wounds open. No way.

“Everyone has a story.”

Is being the reason, your family is missing two key members a story? What about pushing away the only woman you’ve ever loved because you don’t want to repeat the same mistakes and lose someone else you love? “My story is plastered all over the tabloids every day.”

“I doubt that. No one is ever only what you see on the surface.”

I just shrug and flick the screen of my phone. 127 unread messages. Most of them are from Travis.

“Have it your way,” he finally concedes and goes back to wiping down the other end of the bar.

A sudden burst of heat floods my veins as the alcohol finally kicks in, unlocking all the memories I’ve worked so hard to pack away. “Sheesh, man. How strong is this stuff?”

He distorts his face into a fuzzy sneer. “It’s practically water. The owner is cheap.”

Great. Then why am I seeing her smile the first day of kindergarten, the same day we met. “She’s the reason I picked up music in the first place. I bet she doesn’t even know that.”

“Who?” he asks as he morphs into a blurry blob. I blink twice, but instead of having cleared the fog I open my eyes to find a fuzzy, but still breathtaking, version of Carly staring back at me through the mirror’s reflection. I just want to go back… “Ahh!” I let out a growl, flinging my glass into the mirror.

“What the—” He uses his hands to block the shards of glass as it shatters behind him.

“I came here to run from my demons, not summon them.” I reach for my wallet in my back pocket while he pulls a broom and dustpan from the storage area behind the bar. “I’ll pay for the damage.”

“You’re right. You will,” he grumbles. “I don’t care who you are. I need this job. The owner will have my hide if you don’t.”

“I’m sorry, man. I—” A soft hand grips my shoulder, but it’s the familiar scent of vanilla and honey that makes me stop mid-sentence. Carly.

“You really are an idiot, aren’t you?” she asks, sliding onto the barstool next to me. “I always knew you were a hothead, but…” The pain in her eyes makes my heart tug at my chest. It might actually stop beating from the agony. “Come on, Adair. Destroying someone else’s property? I expect that from Stone. Not from you.”

“Why are… Where did you…” It’s too much. “Why aren’t you with Ridge, right now?”

“Am I supposed to be?” She crosses her arms over her chest with a huff.

“I saw you… on the dance floor,” I say, keeping my eyes focused on the freshly poured drink in front of me. “You looked happy.” I reach to grab my drink, but she grabs it before I can. “Since when do you drink?”

“I don’t,” she says, slamming it back in one gulp. “But you could drive anyone to it.” She crosses her long legs, absolutely tormenting me with that impossibly short dress.

Gerald leans across the bar and whispers so that only Carly and I can hear him. “Listen, I don’t mean to break up this apparent reunion, but my boss is going to be here in the morning and if I don’t collect for the damage—”

“Right! Sorry. I just got a little distracted.” I reach for my wallet again, patting my back pocket and finding absolutely nothing. I stand up, checking the other one. Still nothing. “Uh… I uh…”

Carly sets the glass down with a thud that echoes through the bar. “Don’t tell me,” she laughs through her nose at my stupidity. “You left it at the chapel?”

“I think I did,” I admit. “I changed into my tux there and must’ve left it in my other pants.”

“Shocker.” She clicks her tongue against her teeth. “You mean Adair Miller needs me to cover for him, yet again?”

“That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” She smirks, reaching into her handbag pulling out a very small piece of platinum colored plastic that is, in fact, about to save my hide. “Here you go, sir. I’m so sorry for my friend.” The word friend stung more than I expected it to. She turns to face me while Gerald runs the card, tilting her head to the side just enough for her deep auburn hair to fall across her shoulder. “You know,” she puts her finger in my chest, “you’re paying me back this time.”

“I always pay you back.”

“No. The Machine pays me back, they also give me a nice little bonus for covering you twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. But you’re paying me back this time, not The Machine.”

I glance over to the register. That’s an incredibly long piece of paper that’s printing out. “That’s fair enough. You keep my head above water more than I care to admit.” She looks shocked at my admission, but it’s the truth. “Sometimes I wonder why you still do it.”

“That makes two of us,” she says with a smirk, rolling her eyes. “How did you get here if you left your wallet behind? Your driver was still at the wedding.”

I smile through gritted teeth. “I booked an Uber and paid on my phone.”

“Didn’t want to be tracked?”

She knows me too well. “Maybe.”

“A lot of good that did you,” she says as she playfully jabs me in the side. “You’re not a big mystery, you know?”

“Are you sure?” I stick my chin out. “I feel like I’m pretty mysterious.”

She just shakes her head and probably wonders what she did to deserve being stuck in a room with an idiot like me. “So… since you are currently at my mercy and without a way home, do you admit that storming off in a diva huff wasn’t the best move you’ve ever made?”

“What do you mean without a way home?” I grab my phone off the bar and swipe at the screen. Nothing. I tap the wake button. More nothing.

“It just went dead and I’m guessing you didn’t remember to put your charger in your pocket either.” Her coy smile makes her eyes shimmer in the dim lighting.

“You like having something to hold over my head, don’t you?”

“Did I need anything else?” She gives me a deadpan glare. 

“Fine.” I concede with a nod. “It was definitely not my best move, but when I saw—” Nope. That’s territory best left in the past.

“When you saw what?” She asks, clearly confused.

How can she not know? “Doesn’t matter.” I’m saved by the sound of a simple pop ballad kicking in overhead. It’s the same song we attempted to dance to at Griffin’s wedding.

She lets out a sigh. “How many times can we hear this song in one night?”

I extend my hand out to her as I stand from the wobbly barstool. “Maybe we should finish what we started, eh?”

“I don’t think—”

I grab her hand in mine and tug her up from the barstool. “It’s just a dance. It doesn’t have to lead to anything. Come on.” I head toward the floor with her following along behind reluctantly. Her hand tugging against mine is a reminder of just how tall I’ve built my walls all these years. She has no idea how I truly feel about her. Her head rests against my shoulder as I pull her in close, the feeling of her in my arms makes the weight that’s been pulling at my chest all night finally let go so I can breathe again.

She lets out a heavy sigh. Her breath against the bare skin of my neck should feel like heaven, but instead it feels sad.

“What’s wrong, Carly?” I pull back just enough to look into her eyes. There’s a darkness in them that I haven’t seen before.

She shrugs and tucks her face back into my shoulder, hiding herself from me. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You can tell me.” I kiss the top of her head, taking in the sweet smell of her shampoo as I do. “You can also tell me to mind my own business. Either way, I’m here.”

What feels like an eternity passes before she finally looks up at me. “Stone was at the wedding.”

I let out a deep breath that I had apparently been holding. At least I know I didn’t screw up again. “I know.”

“You saw him?”

“Worse.” I grit my teeth, while the tension builds in my shoulders.

She scowls, clearly waiting for me to fess up.

“He came outside while I was talking to London.”

“Just before you bolted?”

I nod. “But not before I told him I’d like to kick his ass for the way he’s treated you.”

She lays her head back on my shoulder as she wipes a stray tear away with the back of her hand. “Why? It’s not like you hurt me any less.”

How do I erase twelve years like they never happened? “I’m sorry,” I whisper against her ear.

Her hair falls over her shoulders as she shakes her head. “Nothing to be sorry for. It’s just the hand we were dealt.”

“Maybe I like to make my own luck.”

“Then you’re a little behind the game and you really suck at it.”

I can’t help but let out a chuckle. “I guess I kind of do suck at it, huh?”

Her hand waves in a fifty-fifty motion. “Maybe a little.” The music stops, but I don’t let her out of my grip. She doesn’t seem to mind either. I want this moment to last forever. “So, you mean to tell me that when I saw you on your phone at the reception you were just calling up an Uber and not a booty call?”

“You were keeping tabs on me,” I state matter-of-factly without even trying to hide the fact that I’m more than a little flattered. “I don’t mind. You can check me out all you want,” I tease, making sure to puff my chest out in a cocky peacock stance.

She lets out a deep groan as her eyes roll back in her head. “Hardly,” she says through a stifled giggle.

Lies.