SPARKED: A Bad Boy Rockstar Romance (With bonus book, PERFECT) Page 17

  Had I been too quick to jump to the wrong conclusion? Clay wouldn't have driven all the way out here if he didn't care about me. Before Friday, things between us had been going so well. Maybe everything had seemed too good to be true, and maybe I'd been expecting something bad to happen. Maybe I didn’t believe that kind of happiness could continue; maybe I went looking for problems where there weren’t any.

  Clay pulls back to look into my eyes. "I'm really sorry you got the wrong impression, Kate. I love you, babe."

  He's waiting for me to say everything is okay. I hesitate as I try to absorb this new information. I'd been so certain he was cheating on me, but his version of events makes sense. I've never had any reason to distrust him before, so maybe I need to give him the benefit of the doubt.

  "Are we okay, babe?" He's got puppy dog eyes as he looks at me, an expression I don't see often on him, but when he uses it, it always makes me cave.

  "I guess we're okay," I say.

  Clay breaks into a huge grin and offers the flowers to me once again. I take them, and thank him, and then we stand awkwardly together on the porch.

  "Wow, your mom's boyfriend sure lives way out here," he says.

  I'd gotten used to the scenery over the past two days, but now I see it again through Clay's eyes. "Sure does," I agree. "And guess what? My mom will soon be living out here too. They've gotten engaged."

  "Good for them," he says in an upbeat tone. "Can I go offer my congratulations?"

  "Yeah, c'mon in. We were just finishing lunch." As soon as I turn back toward the door, I remember who else is inside. Not just my mom and George, but Tommy, and most importantly, Billy.

  Guilt and remorse flood over me like a wave of nausea. I'd considered myself broken up from Clay Friday night. In my mind, I'd been a single girl when I'd flirted with Billy, though of course, flirting was a huge understatement for what went on between us. I'd thought I was free to do as I pleased. Meanwhile, Clay was in the city worrying about me, and in his mind, he was still very much my boyfriend. Oh god. What if Billy says something inappropriate? Now more than I ever, I need him to forget that anything ever happened between us! I say a silent prayer that things will go smoothly as I open the door to take Clay inside.

  12

  Everyone is still seated around the dining room table when we go inside. My mom jumps up, looking anxious but welcoming. She greets Clay again and shoots a questioning look at me before she invites him to join us for dessert.

  Billy is glaring at me. I can feel it even before I look at him. He looks angry and concerned, but I can only meet his eyes for a second before I need to look away. I introduce Clay to George, Tommy, and Billy. Billy gives him a brief nod before returning his focus to me.

  I busy myself with clearing the dinner plates while Clay congratulates George and offers well wishes to him and my mom. Not for the first time, I have a nearly overwhelming urge to flee the house entirely, but I try to calm myself as I take a stack of plates into the kitchen. Before I've even set them in the sink, I feel Billy at my side.

  "That's your cheating boyfriend? What's he doing here?" he asks angrily.

  "Shhh— They'll hear you!"

  "What's going on, Kate?"

  I put the dishes down and turn toward him. "He came to explain," I say. "I got the wrong idea on Friday. I shouldn't have assumed the worst."

  Billy arches a brow and frowns.

  "Please, please just don't say or do anything that—" I'm not sure how to finish my request. I'm the one who's totally messed up my relationship and now I'm asking the man I teased to keep secrets for me.

  "I'm sorry," I say, for what feels like the millionth time. I am so sorry. I squeeze past Billy just as my mom enters the kitchen.

  "Everything okay?" she asks me.

  I nod. "Yeah."

  "Great," she says, soothingly. "Can you bring out dessert dishes and forks, dear?"

  "I'll get them," Billy says, as he moves across the room to the cupboard.

  My mom picks up the cake that's on the kitchen table, and I follow her back to the dining room. When Billy returns and passes by Clay, I'm shocked by the contrast between the two of them. I'd known Billy was bigger, of course, but his hulking frame makes Clay look practically undeveloped, like a teenager. From the clothes they wear, to how they talk, and carry themselves, the two men could not be more different.

  As my mom starts to cut the cake, Billy excuses himself. "I'll have some later, Rebecca, if that's okay. I need to get back to work on a project outside before it's too late in the day." He leaves the room then, with no more words to any of us, and no backward glances.

  If Clay notices Billy's rudeness, he doesn't show it, and I'm relieved about that.

  After dessert and polite conversation, Clay lets me know that he's ready to get back to the city. It makes sense for me to follow him, so I pack my things and leave earlier than I'd planned. Billy hasn't come back yet, so I ask my mom and George to tell him I said goodbye.

  Clay drives fast on the return trip, but I manage to keep up. I assume he’ll take the turnoff to his condo, but instead he heads to my place and parks in the lot. When I realize that he intends to come up to my apartment, I tell him I’m tired and that I have to go into work early tomorrow. For some reason, I’m just not ready to be alone with him yet.

  The next week passes quickly. Clay texts frequently and we have lunch together twice, but we don’t see each other in the evenings due to his long work hours. He’s attentive and kind, but he doesn't make any moves to deepen our commitment as I thought he'd been about to do at the dinner that had been planned for last Friday. I realize that if I was so quick to distrust him, I'm not quite ready to take the next step anyway.

  I’ve been giving a lot of thought as to why I was so quick to jump to the wrong conclusion when I saw him with his coworker, and I think it may have to do with my dad leaving our family when I was young. I never realized I had trust issues, but maybe I do.

  I feel extremely guilty about my near-fling with Billy, and even more guilty about keeping it a secret from Clay. But when I consider the pros and cons of confessing, I decide that Clay would not really want to know about it, and because I never, ever plan to do anything like that again, I decide that it's okay if I keep this one little indiscretion to myself. I feel like I cheated on Clay, but I remind myself that in my mind, we were broken up that night, so I wasn't betraying him. And Billy and I didn't even actually have sex.

  Even though I have it all rationalized in my mind, for some reason I can't stop thinking about it.

  My mom arrives on Friday and we immerse ourselves in wedding planning. Though the timeframe is tight, I get excited as we discuss details for her special day. Saturday is a long, fun, and tiring day that we spend visiting countless clothing shops, eventually circling back to the first one we'd visited, where we select off-the-rack dresses for both her and me and order rush alterations. I'll be the only bridesmaid, and over sushi, my mom tells me that Billy will be standing up for George during the ceremony.

  "Everything's going so well," she says. "But Billy is the one thing I'm feeling bad about."

  I go both warm and cold at the mention of his name, and her comment takes me by surprise. Billy is the one thing I'm feeling bad about too.

  "What do you mean?"

  She finishes a piece of sashimi before answering. "Well, Billy is looking for someplace else to live, and I feel like he's leaving because of me. Like I'm pushing him out."

  I take a sip of tea and think of how to voice my thoughts without sounding too judgmental. "I was actually surprised that Billy was still living at home. He's never had a place of his own?"

  My mom shakes her head and frowns. "When George's wife died, Billy was getting ready to go to college for veterinary medicine. But Tommy was only four at the time, and Billy ended up staying at home to help out. George feels bad that Billy never went to college, but he hasn't been able to talk Billy into going. I'm sure he feels like it's too late now."


  She looks thoughtful as she picks up a tiny piece of pickled ginger with her chopsticks. "I can tell that Billy has been a huge help in raising Tommy. He still is, in fact. And I know having him there helped George get through a very difficult time."

  I feel my face redden and hope that I can blame it on a bite of spicy wasabi. Not only did I jump to conclusions about Clay when he was comforting a coworker, but I also rudely judged Billy for being twenty-five and still living at home. I had assumed he had no ambition or goals in life, when in reality he had selflessly given up his goals to help his family.

  I feel like crying, both at the sad situation of George's wife dying so young, and in shame at my assumptions. I sip my tea and bring my focus back to my mom's concerns.

  "Have you told Billy that you don't want him to leave?"

  She nods. "I did, and George talked to him too. I suppose it's time for him to go. Maybe he'll be glad to be on his own. I just don't want him to feel like he has to rush out just because George and I are getting married."

  "I'm sure he doesn't feel like you're pushing him out," I say. "Maybe you're right. Maybe he'll be happy to be on his own."

  We eat in thoughtful silence for a few minutes and then I ask, "Does Billy have a job?"

  "He earns money on the family farm, he works on other farms in the area too. He works a lot with horses, training them, giving riding lessons, things like that."

  "That's good that he still works with animals, even if he wasn't able to become a vet." It doesn't surprise me to learn that Billy works with horses; he was so good with Gracie and Buck during our ride, and I remember him rescuing the fawn that had been stuck in the fence.

  My mom and I continue our dinner, moving on to lighter and happier topics of conversation, like wedding details, and honeymoon plans.

  Later that night, when I'm lying in bed trying to fall asleep, I envision my mother's wedding. This is a habit I have from my work. I picture all of the details as I plan them, and see how everything will come together for museum events. When I imagine my mom's wedding on the farm, under the flowered arch on the hillside, I see the chair rentals that have been ordered, the flowers, the runner… but my mind keeps moving right past all that, straight up the aisle to where I envision Billy will be standing.

  13

  My mom visits again the following weekend for more shopping. A week after that, even though I know Clay is hoping I’ll stay over at his place, I accept invitations from two different friends and end up going out without him both Friday and Saturday. Clay sends an angry text while I’m out Saturday, accusing me of avoiding him.

  Even though I’ve seen him for lunch dates, and a couple of times for drinks after work, we have not been alone together since my weekend in the country. I’m uncomfortable when I think about sleeping at his condo, or having him stay with me, but I’m not sure why. Things feel different between us. Maybe I still need time to build back the trust, or maybe a little bit of my head and heart are somewhere else.

  The next weekend is the wedding, which has come together amazingly well. It’s going to be a fairly simple event, but there will still be food, drinks, and dancing. George has friends who play in a band, and I called on work contacts for caterer and florist referrals. Along with frenzied planning, we were also just plain lucky to be able to get the vendors lined up on such short notice — especially for a spring wedding in the country.

  I take a half day of vacation at work, and Clay picks me up at one o'clock for the drive to George's house. Our plan is to get there mid-afternoon so that I can join in a rehearsal of the ceremony, but on our way a tractor trailer accident shuts the road down for almost two hours, and we get stuck in a traffic jam with no way to reach an exit.

  When we finally get moving again, the rehearsal is long since over, and my mom sends a message telling me that everyone is on their way to a restaurant for a pre-wedding family celebration. I'd known about this in advance — my mom had sent the address to me last week — and I'd been unsettled to find out the dinner was being held at the same bar/restaurant where I'd first met Billy. I'd never expected to be going back there, much less with Clay and Billy both in attendance.

  When we pull into the parking lot, I'm not prepared for the reaction I have to being there again. I thought I was prepared mentally, but my body has a mind of its own, and I feel flooded with warmth at the memory of what went on there one month ago.

  Though I've tried to push it out of my mind, I can't deny that what I felt with Billy was extraordinary. I'm sure there's a logical reason for it, like the fact that Billy was a stranger, or I was filled with anger and heading for a rebound encounter. I know that love is based on so many more important things than physical sensations, so why can't I get that night out of my mind? Maybe I just need more time to pass.

  Clay is in a foul mood after the highway backup, and has nothing nice to say as we make our way to the entrance of the rustic building. "This is where your mom is having the rehearsal dinner?" The disapproval drips from his voice.

  "I don't think they have many choices around here, Clay."

  The place looks as busy as it did last time I was here. This time I'm at least dressed more appropriately with jeans and a cotton blouse. I'd told Clay to wear casual clothes, but he still looks polished in khakis and a pale pink button-down. City casual and country casual are very different things.

  When we get inside, the hostess directs us to the restaurant side, and I locate my mom and George with a group of about eight other people at a big table in the back. I see my aunt and uncle, a few people I don't know, Tommy, and then my gaze finds Billy. His skin is very tanned and he looks even bigger than I remember. His hair is longer too, tousled and unruly. He's staring straight at me, his eyes smiling, but then I see his focus move behind me, and his face turns colder as he spots Clay.

  Even though I haven't quite managed to forget it, I don't expect Billy to be holding on to any strong feelings from that weekend, so I'm surprised by how bothered he seems by Clay's presence.

  I'm relieved to find that seats have been saved for Clay and me at the opposite end of the table from Billy. My mom hugs us and introduces us to members of George's family that we don't know. As we sit, Clay leans into my ear and makes another sarcastic remark about the restaurant. I'm grateful that there is loud music playing and no one can hear him except me.

  Family style appetizers of wings and onion rings are followed by big platters of barbecued chicken and ribs, and I soon find out that the food tastes as good as it had smelled that night I'd been here sitting at the bar. Everyone eats and talks and is in good spirits, especially my mom, who looks happier than I've ever seen her. Clay finally loosens up, and I can tell he's enjoying the food too, even as he makes snarky remarks to me about how unhealthy it is.

  I glance down at Billy a few times, but he doesn't meet my eyes.

  After the meal, we all head out together to the parking lot, and my belly does a little flip-flop as we round the corner to the site of my indiscretion. To the place where Billy had me pressed up against the wall.

  I'm hoping to leave quickly, but everyone stands around outside, gathered in little clusters, still talking, discussing details about the wedding tomorrow. I risk a quick glance in Billy's direction and see that he's staring straight at me. I quickly look away, but I continue to feel the heat of his gaze. I know then that he's remembering our time here together, just like I am, and I wonder how I'm going to make it through the day tomorrow.

  14

  You wouldn't necessarily expect a forty-nine-year-old woman to be nervous at her wedding, but the next morning, my typically calm and confident mother looks a little jittery.

  "You're not having second thoughts, are you?" I tease as I help her style her hair.

  George spent the night at a neighbor's house so that my mom could use his house to prepare for the wedding without risking the bad luck of the groom seeing the bride before the ceremony. Some traditions just never die, I think with a smile
.

  "Definitely not," she says. "It's just that it's been a long time since I've done this, and I don't want anything to go wrong."

  "It will all be perfect," I reassure her. "Relax."

  Billy was here last night, but I haven't seen much of him today. He's either been outside or in his room, and I'm glad for that. Tommy is helping with setup outside, and Clay is "staying out of our way," as he puts it.

  He tried to initiate sex last night, up in the guest room bed we shared, but I just couldn't do it. "We'll be quiet. No one will know," he said, trying to convince me when I gently moved his hand off of my hip. I told him I was tired after the car trip, but the real reason was that I couldn't even consider having sex just down the hall from Billy's bedroom. For some reason, it would just feel wrong.

  "Do you think we have enough here for everyone to drink?" my mom asks when we're nearly done with her hair.

  "Relax," I tell her again. "All the details are under control."

  The rest of the morning passes quickly, and soon enough it's time for the big event. My mother looks beautiful in her ivory dress, and her nerves seemed to have passed. She looks simply radiant.

  The weather is clear and beautiful, and the florists have done a terrific job setting the stage for the ceremony. The gentle background music that's been playing pauses, then the tune changes — it's time for my walk down the aisle.

  Heads turn to watch as I slowly make my way toward the altar. I see Clay sitting a few rows from the front. He gives me an encouraging grin, and I can't help but wonder what it will feel like to walk down the aisle again sometime as a bride. The thought of walking to meet him at the altar doesn't fill me with happiness as it once did.