Page 6 of Collide

“Tell me it wasn’t you.” His tone deepens.

“What?” I ask, my brows pinching as I look up at a man I consider a friend and mentor. I stare at him, not understanding the question but giving him an answer. “It wasn’t me.”

A sense of relief washes over him, and I’m relieved it wasn’t me, whatever it is. He sinks into the woven outdoor seat beside me and takes my beer from my fist. Finishing the rest of it, he sits forward and rolls the empty bottle back and forth between his thick palms. A master guitarist in his band, I enjoyed playing with him when I had the chance. I could learn so much from a man like him, so I had an ulterior motive for being here.

“You’re the smartest one in the bunch,” Tommy says, indicating the band. “I didn’t think it was you, but I still had to ask.” He’s actually wrong. Jared is the smartest, book-wise, but I guess when it comes to the business, I want to be the smartest. Tommy shakes his head and sits back against the cushion. He tips his head back, closing his eyes, and pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

“Goddammit.” His fist lowers, and he pounds it against the faux-wicker armrest.

“Is it Ivy? Is she okay?” I ask, concerned he’s upset with her. A sour lump of fear settles in my gut. I’m protective of her even though she won’t give me the time of day. I worry she’s more distraught than she let on with the passing of Cash. Was their relationship deeper than I thought? The only details Cash ever gave involved their sexual behavior. Does she miss him?

“She’s fine.” Tommy sighs. “She’s gonna be fine.” He rolls his head on the back of the chair and looks over at me. “I’ve never known a survivor like her. Not even her mother was as strong as that girl.”

“Uncle Tommy.” The sweet, feminine voice turns both our heads. She’s more beautiful than I remember. The tan on her cheeks brightens her cornstalk-colored hair and eyes that match the sky behind her head. I don’t remember her breasts being quite so large, but then again, we were only together for a matter of minutes.

I should have taken my time with her.

You shouldn’t have been in a closet with her, fucker.

I swallow as I slowly rise to greet her. “Ivy.” Her name chokes in my throat as she looks up at me. Her eyes are red-rimmed as if she’s been crying, and she weakly smiles. If she’s surprised to see me here, she doesn’t give anything away with her sad expression.

“Gage.” Her voice is tight. “What are you doing here?”

I lick my lips, glancing down at her uncle. “Tommy invited us.”

Her mouth pops open as she peers down at him. I’m expecting her to ask him to explain, but she closes those pink lips and nods instead.

“I’m going to take a nap,” she says and excuses herself. My forehead furrows as I watch her walk away. When she disappears through the living room and down a hall, I throw myself back into my seat. Tommy’s gaze bores into the side of my head.

“You have a crush on my niece,” Tommy questions, his rough voice a warning.

Keeping my eyes forward, I squint into the bright sunlight reflecting off the ocean in the distance and purse my lips. “Something like that,” I offer, picking up a fresh beer from a bucket on the low glass table before me.

“Goddammit,” Tommy mutters and reaches for one himself. Somehow, I sense crushing on his niece isn’t going to win me any favors.

4

IVY

Gage Everly.

Why does he have to be here? It’s difficult to look at him—that dark, disheveled look of his—and remember what I did with him. My heart aches, and my privates clench with the reminder. I never meant to sleep with his bandmate. Cash Bennett was charismatic and creative, and he was in the wrong place at the worst of times. I’d finished a year of college without my mother, and Tommy thought I should celebrate making it through my junior year clinicals instead of wallow in the one-year anniversary of my mother’s death. He took me to a performance of Collision at a small club named Howl at the Moon. Small being relative as the place was packed. Tommy was proud of the boys and how they’d taken off on their own despite losing out after my mother had to cancel a few tour dates.

Tommy thought a Collision concert would be a good distraction.

And Cash was. Fast. Hard. Rough. In an alley outside the bar.

Only Cash didn’t walk away. He pursued me, wearing me down until I agreed to see him again. It was the summer of lust because I can’t remember us doing much else than fucking each other. And each time, I felt empty after it was over. And each time, he grew quieter afterward. We met up at his concerts, but we didn’t interact with one another in public. I don’t think anyone knew we hooked up except maybe his bandmates.

It’s strange to mourn someone you hardly knew, and I didn’t know Cash Bennett as well as I should have. I wasn’t his girlfriend. I wasn’t even really his friend. We just had sex, so when he took his life, I didn’t know where I fit into his issues. Was I a cause or just a number on the laundry list? He didn’t know I was pregnant, but neither did I until six weeks after his death.

No mother. No boyfriend. I was going to be alone…with a baby. I couldn’t believe I’d held the secret in as long as I had. Strangely, it felt good to tell Tommy even though I shouldn’t have kept it from him. I have no doubt he knows who the father is, and he isn’t happy, but what can he do about it?

When I exit my room after a little nap, I’m not surprised to find Gage and Tommy in the living room. A privacy wall hides the front door of the penthouse, but rounding it, you find an expansive kitchen with a long island looking into the living room with a wall of sliding glass doors that open to the rooftop patio. A dining table big enough for sixteen sits against the wall opposite the hallway entrance to the three bedrooms.

“Let’s grab some dinner,” Tommy suggests. “You need to eat.” On second thought, letting my uncle know I’m pregnant will only turn him into a mother hen. He’s a caretaker by nature. My mother. My brother. Me. He’ll smother this baby and me. I smile, though, because it’s nice to know someone cares.

“I’m not hungry,” I say, but then my stomach rumbles, and neither Gage nor Tommy miss the gurgle.