His arms were still locked around my hips. An awareness of spreading heat coursed through me. He swallowed as he took me in. My hands were fisted and tight to my chest. The effect had my cleavage pushed up. We both noticed that at the same time.
“I am so sick of people saying one thing and doing another. He said he would talk to me tonight about donations. I’m not just chasing him randomly.” Anger burned me up, but I heard my mother’s voice again telling me to control my temper. I ground my jaw and threw out my arms. They flopped to the outside of his embrace and now it was a loose impression of two people dancing. “Just another disappointing person in my life.”
His mouth dropped open before closing again, jaw clenching. He looked at our tangled bodies and freed me to step back.
“Just out with it, Leo. Give me your excuses and reasons why you don’t have time or resources. I’ve heard it all.” Absurdly, the anger was morphing back into that gaping pain I’d felt alone in my apartment.
His head dropped, telling me that I was correct in my understanding of where this conversation was headed. What sort of man would toy with me—withCathlike this? Show up to hear her play twice just to make an excuse not to help her. How could he see her play at all and not believe in her?
He mumbled something.
“I don’t understand you.” I crossed my arms over my body. The fall weather had finally settled into the evenings, but my posture was more about the frustration leaving my body and being replaced by the familiar acceptance of disappointment.
“I was fired.” He clenched his jaw, emphasizing a pulse at his temple. “I didn’t quit The Burnouts. I was fired.”
“Fired?” I blinked in confusion, recalling every rumor I’d heard in the months since he’d been back—artistic differences, big ego, early retirement—and fired wasn’t one of them.
“Yes.” He swallowed. “Everybody thinks I retired. I didn’t exactly correct the rumors, for obvious reasons.” His hand went to the back of his neck. “We all signed NDAs and probably you will need to now also.”
I frowned at the ground. Wouldn’t Janice have mentioned that? Or Devlin? But clearly, this was a confession few people knew about. Maybe I shouldn’t have taught the kids to play his former band’s big hit. It was funny at the time, but after seeing the embarrassment in his lack of eye contact, it was definitely a bad move.
“That’s fine. About the NDA...” I said, still processing.
“Yeah?”
“I’m not a gossip just because I live here. You don’t have to worry about me blabbing.” I thought about my goss sessions with Clara at Genie’s, but that hardly felt relevant to share at this time.
“Hmm, that look you just made makes me think you’re lying.”
“Thank you for telling me,” I said. “I still don’t get why you won’t help Cath.”
It was true. Whatever his reasons, his talent was there. And more importantly, he was here. He spun in a circle, groaning as he tugged on the back of his neck with both hands. When he turned back to face me, his cheeks were flushed. “I have no degree. I was fired from the only job I ever had, and I haven’t played the drums since I was kicked out by my best friend.” His chest heaved.
The back lot was abandoned this late. The sun had gone down long ago, but the one buzzing overhead light cast enough of a glow to see him perfectly. “That’s it?” I asked after looking back at him.
“That’s not enough?”
“Can you physically not play anymore?”
He frowned. “No. I probably could.”
“And you aren’t morally opposed to Cath playing?” I asked, my defenses on edge.
“No.” He shook my head, confused. “Why would I be?”
I ignored that question. “I don’t understand what the issue is, then.”
“The issue is, you were right. I’m a washed-up rock star with no life plans and absolutely no skills. Who the hell am I to get this girl into college? I couldn’t even get into college. I’m a loser. You know it. This whole town knows it. I’m the last person who should be helping Cath.”
I never said any of that. I might have thought it though, and now I regretted my earlier assumptions as I studied the tortured man.
“Is that it?” I repeated.
“Again, is that not enough?” He huffed air out of his nose in a scoff.
“No. It’s not. Quite frankly, I would only accept a few very legitimate reasons.”
“Like what?”
