Ким Карр - Mended

Then, just as I brush my lips over hers, she stands up. “I can’t. Please don’t do that again. I want to be your friend, but that’s all,” she says and rushes out of the theater. I run after her, but before I can catch her, she hops in a cab and is gone. And just like that, so is our perfect day.

After the Cleveland show the dynamics of the bus changed—I had a lot of work to get done. Ivy hadn’t committed to staying with the band after the tour, and I doubted she would, so I was putting some feelers out trying to see who might be available. And the guys’ social lives were running rampant. Not only did Nix invite Phoebe to join him for the rest of the tour, but Leif seemed to be on a mission to get laid in every city as much as possible. This often meant a stowaway on board from one stop to the next. It also meant I ended up staying out of the galley as much as possible. Nix and Phoebe aren’t exactly quiet and Leif doesn’t care who hears.

Spending more time in the lounges hasn’t been all that bad, because surprisingly, Ivy seems to be doing the same. She wasn’t kidding about wanting to be friends. At some times it’s exhilarating and at others it’s exasperating, but at least we’re spending time together . . . We talk about nothing that matters, we eat together, we play video games, and even watch TV, but now we never do any of these things alone. Garrett is always with us, and the minute he leaves so does she—my guess is the friends thing is just as hard for her as for me, because while most of the hostility between us seems to have eased, the tension hasn’t.

Unfortunately something else has changed as well—Ivy can no longer go out without being recognized. The first few weeks with her trademark locks cut shorter, plus having been out of the limelight for almost a year, we were able to move around each city easily. But after the Detroit show, her performance was so dynamic that it went viral. Ivy has gotten in the habit of singing a cover at each performance, and that night’s cover was “I Knew You Were Trouble.” Her rave-y, edgy performance unhinged the audience and they went crazy. The way she sang that particular song made it come alive. She turned it into her own and I fucking loved it. It was catchy in her key and she gave it a rhythm and flow that rocked the audience. It exploded all over the Internet, and overnight the Wilde Ones became Ivy’s band and Ivy was being sought out. The next three stops after that we all stayed on the bus, and tonight is no different.

I’d fallen asleep early with my headphones on, and another fucking dream woke me up. My dreams come more and more frequently lately. For some reason my dad is weighing heavy on my mind during this tour. I’m not sure if it’s the fact that he wanted this life and I wonder why he did when he had a family or if it’s because I’ve started to think about what kind of life I could have while doing this. Getting out of bed, I throw a shirt on and head to the front lounge to grab a bottle of water, and as I do, I hear voices and laughter from the back lounge. Heading that way, I take a whiff of the air and the smell of cigar smoke has me more than curious as to what’s going on.

Pausing in the doorway of the back lounge, I take in the scene. Everyone is sitting together and playing cards. Garrett is leaning back in a metal folding chair holding a drink in his hand with a cigar resting over the edge of a bowl. Nix is reclining comfortably in one of the club chairs tapping one hand on the table while holding his cards in the other. Ivy, sitting in the other club chair, is wearing black sleep pants with some print all over them and a white tank top. Again she’s wearing no makeup and has her hair pulled back—she looks so much like she did when she was eighteen. Fuck, she’s gorgeous. Even when she throws her cards on the table with a disgusted look on her face she’s still sexy as fuck. Leif glances around the circle with a huge-ass grin on his face and fans his cards out almost methodically before laying them down. “Full house, aces high,” he says and pulls the pile of guitar picks his way.

Garrett slams his drink down. “I’m out fifty bucks, thanks to your sorry ass. I think you’re cheating.”

Leif just laughs at him and continues to rake in the pot. Phoebe throws her cards in and gets up from her chair to sit on Nix’s lap. She’s an attractive girl—average height, maybe a little shorter than Ivy, with chin-length dark hair. Her skin tone is very close to Nix’s. I’d guess that she’s either Italian or Hispanic.

I stand silent in the doorway, continuing to watch them, but mostly watching Ivy. She pulls her legs up in the chair and wraps her arms around her knees. When I cover my mouth to stifle a yawn, she glances my way. A small smile forms on her lips, and her eyes sweep over me before they lock on mine. I grin at her and button up my shirt before joining the group. She drops her eyes and stretches her legs out over the empty chair next to her. I wonder what she’s thinking when she looks at me like that and why when I catch her doing it she always looks away.

Garrett looks up. “Hey, man, glad you decided to wake up. Welcome to the party.”

He looks like such a clown gripping that cigar between his teeth and talking around it. He motions to the chair Ivy has her legs on. “Perfect timing. We need another. Phoebe quit playing and I’m about to unless my luck turns.” He takes a puff on his cigar and coughs a little. I bite back the laughter. Phoebe’s not happy as the cigar smoke wafts her way. She waves it out of her face and makes an exaggerated choking noise before resting her head against Nix’s shoulder.

“John’s going to beat your ass for smoking in here,” I scold him, more mocking than serious, although John just might do that.

He sets his cigar back down in the bowl. “Then I’ll have to explain to him that a fine cigar is just like a woman. If you don’t light it up at the right time and suck on it with a certain ferverence, it’ll go out on you.” He waves his arms to the right, where the window blinds are pulled up. “And besides, I opened all the windows.”

Everyone laughs, even Ivy. I look around at the glasses on the table and I know they’ve all been hitting the wine pretty hard. Glancing sideways, I notice there are at least four empty bottles in the sink of the bar area and another open one on the small counter.

Nix looks at Garrett dumbfounded. “Ferverence? Is that even a word and where the hell did you pick it up? Wheel of Fortune? Jeopardy!? Either way, you’re watching too much fucking TV.”

I don’t say anything to that. I just throw two twenties on the table. “Deal me in.”

Nix reaches around Phoebe to take my money and shoves a bunch of picks my way and I notice the glass in front of him has an amber-colored liquid in it—definitely not wine.

“And I’ll have what you’re drinking,” I tell him.

I glance down at Ivy’s legs stretched across the chair. Her feet are bare and her nails are painted red. “May I?” I ask. My gaze fastens on hers. I wait for her response.

She pulls her legs off the chair and sinks as far as she can back into her own seat. “Welcome to the game.”

I sit down and lean forward, inching my way closer to her to take the drink Nix hands me. I take a sip before setting it down on the table and notice she’s still watching me. I divert my eyes only when Leif asks, “No wine, man? It’s the good stuff. I picked it up at a local vineyard yesterday.”

Raising my glass, I say, “I’m good.”

He feigns offense.

I try not to stare as Ivy raises her glass for a sip, but when my eyes catch her mouth, I can’t keep from watching. She licks her lips and says, “I really like it.” I know she’s answering Leif, but I feel like she’s talking to me, and I can’t help but smile—my mind wandering to thoughts of what I know she likes.

Slamming his hand in front of me, Garrett slips in, “I’ll take your money any day of the week.”

I look over toward him as he gulps the rest of the liquid in his glass. “I doubt you’ll be taking my money because if memory serves me correctly, I’m the one who taught your scrawny thirteen-year-old ass how to play this game.”

“Yeah, but we didn’t use money back then, just beer bottle caps, and I was usually the one who drank most of the beer.”

“You were so funny when you drank. You just couldn’t handle your alcohol,” Ivy blurts out. It’s the first time any of us has talked about being together when we were younger, and I notice that her gaze flitters from Garrett’s face to mine before she looks down at the table. When she reaches out to push some chips forward, her hand grazes mine. The skin on my arm prickles and the electricity between us sparks immediately. She quickly moves her hand away and crosses her arms over her chest, but I already noticed her nipples harden from our encounter. I want more than anything to sit in that chair with her on my lap. To slip my arm around her waist and pull her close to me like I always did when we played poker with River and his friends.

“Cold?” I ask, wishing I could drape my body over hers and warm her up.

Flushing, she rubs her arms. “Yes, I am. I’ll be right back. I’m going to get a sweater.” At least I didn’t get the finger.

She stands up and I watch her step across the room and then disappear through the doorway. A few minutes later she’s back with a sweater wrapped around her and when she sits down, I can smell her sweet scent in the air.

Nix shuffles the cards around Phoebe like he’s a dealer in Vegas.

“You smell good,” I mumble in her direction.

Her cheeks turn pink again and I just smirk at her. I know she sprayed some kind of perfume on when she grabbed her sweater.