Torn - Part 1: The Torn Series (10 page)

“Hey!”

“Come on, punk girl. Sing something.”

“Oh, God,” I said, burying my face in my hands. Singing onstage I could do, no problem. Hell, I sang backup for Jen all the time. But alone, with Mallet an no one else? It was way too intimate, and downright absurd.

But when he looked at me with that gleeful sparkle in his eye, how could I turn him down? God, I was such a sucker.

What could I possibly sing, though? I didn’t want to sing some sappy love song and give him any ideas that might send him running for the hills. Maybe something about friendship or partying?
Oh God, nothing political, nothing controversial…
I wracked my brain and came up empty.

He laughed at the expression on my face. “I didn’t mean to give you an anxiety attack over it, I just wanted to hear your voice.”

I sat up straight and settled for a showtune - there wasn’t much to misinterpret out of a song about pies - the worst pies in London, to be specific.

He threw back his head and laughed when I finished. "Give me your phone." I handed it over with an uncontrollable grin. I watched over his shoulder as he dialed his number and called his own phone across the room, feeling giddy and girly and a little horny all over again.
This is a step. He does like me. Maybe he wants to be with me more.

"There," he said, hanging up. "Now you can find me when you're in the mood." He winked.

"I'm in the mood again right now." I giggled, and squealed as he pressed me back into the blankets.

○●○●○●○●○

Just because Mallet had given me his number didn't mean he was quick to answer my messages. Or that he would answer them at all. When I sent him a text the next day just wondering what he was up to and received no reply, I assumed it meant he was busy with practice. When he didn't reply to a text asking him if he wanted to hang out a few evenings later, I assumed he was busy with a match.

And I knew I was sending too many messages and being annoying when I texted him again on the weekend, and I congratulated myself on scaring him away.

Jen only shrugged and said, "Surly says he’s got a big fight coming up," when I ran it by her at practice.

Meanwhile, Tyler was starting to work his way back into my head. "A watched phone never rings," he said, sinking into the couch next to me. It was my day off and we didn't have practice, and I'd actually sort of looked forward to spending the time alone. I wanted to reacquaint myself with the offerings on Netflix and have myself a marathon with a pint of ice cream.

That is, sadly, not a real option when your bedroom is your ex-boyfriend's living room.

“Don’t you have to study or something?” I asked.

“I am. I was. I’m taking a TV break, except you’re always hogging it.”
This tired old discussion again.
“Anyway. Want to order some take-out?”

I realized, strangely, that we hadn’t eaten a thing together since the breakup. Which was weird considering we occupied the same space. “Sure,” I said, though I had reservations. Did this mean we were going to hang out? Act like friends? We might as well - we were stuck with each other until the lease was up, and even then, neither of us made enough money on our own to even think about moving anytime in the next decade.

“Thai?” he asked, grabbing a short stack of menus from beneath the coffee table, “Want your usual?”

“You remember my usual?” I asked, a little surprised.

“Of course,” he said with a tight smile.

We ate and watched a short marathon of sitcoms in companionable silence. I looked over at his bearded face and could almost remember how things were just a short time ago, when we were dating, when we were together. He hadn’t always been so serious and so strict. We’d met at a really wild party our freshman year - we’d joked about being the two soberest people on campus and left together to take a walk and get some ice cream.

This was my fault. I’d had to go and try to reinvent myself, and for what? For fun, for adventure?

My phone buzzed with a text message. Tyler eyed me with disapproval as I picked it up.
Mallet.

“Sorry been busy,” it read, “Fight stuff. Hang out?”

It didn’t matter how busy he was, not answering a single text for a whole week was pretty damn rude. Especially after we’d had such a good time together. I put the phone down without answering. If he could leave me hanging, then I could leave him hanging, too. I didn’t like playing games but dammit, I didn’t want to look desperate either.

“That the guy you’re screwing?” Tyler asked, grabbing the phone and reading the message. “He’s a fighter?”

I snatched the phone back and dropped it back onto the coffee table. “Don’t be so nosy.” That was one thing we’d fought about just a little too often. He was way too curious about my texts and emails. I never even did anything to warrant his suspicion. They were the most boring messages in the world, always. What was he expecting to find?

“Sorry. You’re not gonna reply to that?”

“Nope!” I grinned. “We’re having a nice time!”
Only because we’re not talking.
Still, it was a step in the right direction, right?

I eyed my phone, then Tyler, then my phone again while the television droned one. I didn’t know what the right direction was anymore.

○●○●○●○●○

Mallet showed up at our rehearsal of all places. Jen was
not
pleased, and I wasn’t much happier myself. This business of showing up uninvited everywhere without so much as a text message was getting really old. I could appreciate spontaneity - I was trying to be more spontaneous myself - but it was as if the man operated without forethought all the damn time.

“You didn’t answer my text,” he said as I hustled him outside to stand in front of Robin’s building. He had a nasty black eye and bandages across the knuckles of one of his hands.

“You didn’t answer any of mine,” I said, and he sighed.

“Like I said, busy with fight stuff.”

“Well, I’m busy with band stuff.”

We stood staring at each other for a minute, neither willing to budge an inch. I was never much of an opponent when it came to a battle of wills, though, and I spoke first. “You were rude first so you apologize first.”

He clenched his jaw. “Fine. I’m sorry about my shitty manners.”

Good enough, I guess.
“I’m sorry I left you hanging, too,” I said grudgingly. I wasn’t really sorry - he’d started it.
But whatever.
“What do you want?”

“I came to see you.” He gestured at his eye. “This is your fault.”

“What?!” I shrieked, gaping at the black and blue. “How the hell is that my fault?”

“You fucked up my fight.” He cracked the knuckles on his uninjured hand. “I was distracted. I thought if I stayed away from you for a while I’d get my head back on straight but it didn’t happen, I just fought even worse.”

“Did you
lose?”

He smirked. “No. Fuck no.” He took my hand. “Can I finish?” I nodded. “What I’m saying is, staying away from you is fucking up my focus. So.” He blew out a breath. “I want to try the opposite. I want to spend more time together.”

“Oh.” My mind raced. Before he started avoiding me, we were sleeping together like, three times a week. So did he mean more time outside the bedroom? “You mean like, dating?” I asked.

He rolled his eyes. “No. Just… hanging out.”

“Oh.” It was the same damn thing as far as I was concerned, but he could call it what he liked.

Assuming this was what
I
wanted.

“Just give it a try,” he said, flashing that irresistible smile. “What are you doing today?”

I still couldn’t wrap my head around this. Mallet, sort-of asking me out? Just when Tyler was trying to squeeze his way back into my life.
Figures.
“Practice. Work. We could hang out tomorrow.”

“Great,” he said, “Tomorrow. I’ll text you. You’ll answer?”

I giggled. “I will.”

He planted a soft kiss on my lips. “Tomorrow,” he promised. I watched him walk away - his broad shoulders beneath that tight black t-shirt, his thick, muscular calves bare thanks to his gym shorts. He really was incredibly good-looking. What in the world did he want with me?

I shook my head against that line of thinking.
Don’t question it, just go with it.

CHAPTER 9

Just as he’d promised, Mallet sent me a text first thing in the morning. “This afternoon, baby. Be ready. I’ll pick you up.” I had a shift that night, which meant I wouldn’t be going home with him. At least not right away. It was almost like a date.
I don’t know what to wear!

I settled for some tight black shorts that weren’t too short and a black top with lots of sequins. Casual and shiny and it would be fine to wear to work afterward if we were running late. I took extra time on my makeup, too. When he texted me to say he was downstairs, I nearly jabbed myself in the eye with the mascara brush.

“You’re going to see him.” I jumped. Tyler stood in the hall as I emerged from the bathroom. He handed me my purse and my phone.

“Quit reading my messages,” I mumbled, and tried to push past him.

“Alexa. Riley, whatever you call yourself now. He’s no good for you.”

“You don’t know him.”

“I know you belong with me.”

My eyes popped wide. “Are you serious right now?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
How the hell am I even supposed to feel about this?

“I’m serious.” He took my hand, and I was still too much in shock to pull away. He smiled. “Don’t you remember all the plans we used to make?”

“None of them involved you dumping me.”

He scratched his beard. I used to find the gesture charming but now I just thought about bedbugs. I guess I was becoming a New Yorker. “I didn’t think you’d find someone else so fast. I thought you’d get all this partying and punk stuff out of your system and we’d just naturally get back together.”

“So it’s jealousy?” I gestured at myself. “This isn’t a phase, Tyler. It’s a reinvention. I’m in a band and I’m making friends and having fun. You ought to try it.”

He just snorted. “I’m willing to wait,” he said. “You’ve obviously got some growing up to do. But not with another guy in the picture.”

Marriage. He’s talking about marriage. Good lord.
I was conflicted about a lot of things, but I knew for certain that I wasn’t ready for
that.
Not to talk about it or even think about it. “I’ve got to go,” I said, my head spinning. I had to get out of that apartment. “If you’re going to be condescending then I don’t even want to talk about this.” I shoved my way by and he finally let me past to the front door.

“Just think about it,” he said, “We had a good plan. We were going to be happy.”

“I
was
happy until you started this stupid chat!” I slammed the door behind me. Kind of a childish response, I admit, but he was such a jerk! I stomped my way to the elevator, upset and angry and confused and no longer excited about this date. How did Tyler manage to ruin everything all the damn time?

○●○●○●○●○

Mallet could see I was distracted as soon as I met him out front. “Everything okay?” he asked, tilting my chin to look up at him.

“Just the ex being his usual obnoxious self,” I sneered, looking away.

“What happened?”

“Let’s not talk about him.” I took his hand. “What do you want to do?”

“You,” he smirked.

Should have seen that answer coming.
I shoved him playfully. “No, really?”

“Lunch.” he said. “There’s a street fair on Steinway, we could go to that after.”

I grinned. “Sounds perfect!” I loved street fairs. Jen and Robin always rolled their eyes at them - they said they were all the same, selling the same crap and the same greasy food every damn time. But I was still new to the city, so they were new to me.

“And no bars.”

“What?” I laughed.

“We’ve been drinking every time we get together. Let’s just enjoy each other’s company. No booze allowed.” He took my elbow in his like a fancy gentleman and I laughed again, but I was perturbed.
What is with everybody trying to tell me what to do today?
Still, this date was Mallet’s idea, and it was his show, so I happy enough to just go with it.

But still. Did they really think I was partying too much? I wasn’t anywhere near the level of Jen and Robin’s nonstop lifestyle.

I frowned. Maybe it was something more general than that. Maybe I was just bad at life.

○●○●○●○●○

He took me to an Indian restaurant - something I’d never tried before. I was hesitant at first, afraid of super spicy food, but he knew what to order and it was all amazing. Once again, I felt like a big, uncool dork. I mean, who hasn’t tried Indian food before? What sort of rock was I living under?