Rock Wedding(83)

So she let him go.

And she hoped he’d come back to her the same wonderful man with whom she was falling ever more desperately in love.


ABE HIT THE WEIGHTS AT THE GYM, his demons tearing at him with every fucking rep. “You bastards aren’t going to win,” he said and lifted.

The goddamn bloodthirsty creatures wouldn’t shut up. That was when he remembered what David had said to him a few days after the near miss alcohol-poisoning incident. Don’t be a proud shithead. Reach out when you need a friend.

Deciding tonight qualified, Abe made the call. And though it was late, the drummer didn’t hesitate. He just asked where Abe was, then joined him. They all used this gym, so Abe didn’t have to let David in—the other man had his own pass key.

Having arrived in workout gear, David came straight to the weight room and began to warm up. “I think we’re the only two in here” were his opening words.

“Good. I hate the posing grunters,” Abe said with a scowl. “Why can’t they just do their workout without sounding like a bunch of baboons on steroids?”

David grinned. “I like that—I’m going to use it.” The drummer got to work.

He couldn’t lift as much as Abe, but he could lift far more than he should’ve been able to given his weight and height. David was in hella good shape.

“Did I pull you away from Thea?” Abe asked after over ten minutes of companionable quiet.

“She was working in her home office.” David didn’t pause in his steady reps using some serious free weights. “I left her with a kiss and a promise that we wouldn’t do anything to get our faces in the papers.” A grin. “I do not want to piss her off, so let’s not get into a fight.”

“Damn it!” Abe muttered. “I called you over here specifically to beat your ass.”

Giving him the finger, David said, “You get that e-mail from the label?”

“Yeah.”

The two of them talked about the label, about music, about David’s upcoming wedding. The one thing they didn’t talk about was Abe’s sobriety. They didn’t need to. Having his friend here was enough.

Afterward, as they grabbed ice-cold bottles of water from the fridge in the little break area that featured a juice bar during the day, Abe leaned up against the nearest wall and said, “Sarah won’t let me move in.”

David swigged half his bottle before replying. “Can’t blame her, man.” He flipped a chair around, took a seat with his arms braced on the back. “You must’ve been hell to live with.”

Abe thought again of the day he’d thrown Sarah’s books in the pool, then the furniture. And that had been one of the tamer incidents. “Yeah.” He pressed the cold bottle to his forehead. “I just want to be there for her… and I want the chance to show her I’m not the man I once was.”

David ran his fingers through his sweat-damp hair. “I get it.” After wiping his face on a towel, he rubbed at his jaw, eyebrows drawn together over the golden brown of his eyes. “I guess you have to court her.”

“What?” Abe scowled at the man who’d been his friend since they were thirteen. “I can’t write memos.” No one but David and Thea knew what David had written in those magic memos, but they’d certainly worked. Which was why Abe was listening to advice that included the word “court”—because David was about to marry his girl, while Abe couldn’t even get his to trust him enough to give him a key.

“Abe, you were married to Sarah.” David raised an eyebrow. “If anyone knows what she likes and needs, it should be you.”

Abe thought of the books he’d sent her; he’d seen them neatly placed on her bookshelf. All except one, which was on a side table with a bookmark in it. He’d done okay there. She’d also enjoyed their dessert date. “Like we’re still dating?” The idea felt false to him. He and Sarah were far beyond anything superficial.

“Not dating—more like showing her that you pay attention to what’s important to her.” David finished off his water. “That doesn’t end after you’re in a relationship. It’s always.” A shit-eating smile. “I’m not admitting anything, but it’s possible I may still write Thea memos.”

Abe pointed at David, eyes narrowed. “You’re a disgrace to rock stars everywhere.”

“Do I look like I give a flying fuck?” Grinning, David put his drink bottle in the recycle bin, caught Abe’s when Abe lobbed it over, and did the same. “You going to shower here?”