Page 126 of Dirty Like Me
It was probably the last thing I needed to hear right now, but I loved it. Couldn’t help loving it.
And everything I was feeling right now, this song pretty much said it all. I could barely breathe while I listened to it, each word, each grinding chord from Jesse’s guitar chafing at my heart.
It wasn’t a love song, exactly, or a breakup song, or a make out song, but some kind of blood and gut and soul-fueled synthesis of all three. A kind of musical hate fuck wrapped in the sweetest love letter.
Flaying flesh and bone to reveal the raw underbelly of lust, need, and marrow-deep desire for acceptance.That’s what one reviewer had wrote about it, and the words had stuck with me.
Another called itThe anthem of the done-wrong.
And they were both right. Because deep beneath that underbelly of lust, need, and desire was an anguish so soul-splitting it set my hairs on end.
As I listened to the song, it felt like my heart was gaping open, raw and aching, for everyone to see. Like a wound that had never been allowed to heal because each time it started, I picked at it, just enough to make it bleed... all over again.
I only realized I was crying when the tears dripped off my cheeks, my eyes so flooded I couldn’t see Devi right in front of me. “Oh, hon,” she said, just beyond the tear-blur. “We’ve got to turn this off.”
“No,” I managed, as I wiped the tears away. Thank God for the sunglasses. “Just let it play.”
I was kind of in shock, it had been so long since I’d cried.
Over two years.
And now, the tears I’d been holding back since that awful day standing at the altar, alone, were finally pouring out. I’d never cried over it. Not that day, not any day since.
Not once.
And if I thought it hurt when Josh left me, that was nothing compared to this.
This was heartbreak in slow motion.
Why did I think I could just walk away? Like that would make it better? Like I could somehow magically avoid getting hurt, when my heart was already involved?
No. This was way too deep for that. Jesse was way too deep.
When I was with him, I wanted things I didn’t think I would ever want again until he rocked his way right into my life, my bed, my heart. The man was in my head, in my blood, and under my skin.
“You were so right, Dev. I’ve been living my life like I can’t be loved. I’m totally in love with Jesse, but I’m afraid he can’t possibly love me back because I’m fundamentally unlovable or something.”
Even I heard how fucked up that sounded. Because I never even gave Jesse a chance to love me. I just assumed it wasn’t possible.
“Are you ever going to return his calls?” Devi asked for like the zillionth time as she glanced at my cell on the bar between us. It was vibrating and playing The Black Keys’Girl Is On My Mind, thanks to my best friend reprogramming it while I dumped all my woes at her feet last night; her way of reminding me that Jesse probably actuallydidmiss me, like his texts said, and I was being a dumbass.
“I’m telling you, Dev,” I said as I ignored the phone and devoured about the dozenth maraschino straight from the jar, “from this moment forth, you run my life.Friendsstyle, just like Monica did for Rachel when she realized she made bad decisions.”
“First of all,” Devi said, seizing the jar of cherries and sliding it out of my reach, “those things stay in your system for like seven years, just like gum and licorice.”
“Urban legend. If that were true, I’d weigh like a thousand pounds, nine-tenths of it cherry gut.”
“Ew.” Devi wrinkled up her perfect little nose but I just shrugged. I’d spent the last five weeks on a tour bus with a bunch of men—gross humor didn’t even faze me anymore. “Second, your life is not a sitcom, babe. I think that storyline lasted like half an episode. Why? Because no one’s actually supposed to run your life but you. It’s called free will and you’re the only one who has to lie in the bed you made, so buck up and get your shit together.”
“Fugh. Fine.” I slurped my whipped cream and shoved my glass toward Becca. “More whip!”
My sister scowled at me but went to get the whipped cream canister.
“Andthird…” Devi said with a weird inflection in her voice. I turned to see the perfectly threaded arch of her eyebrow raise in a way that made me follow her gaze toward the door. “You can’t hide forever, babe.”
My heart lurched into my throat.
There was a man standing in the doorway kind of blocking out the sun, moment-of-destiny style, and while it wasn’t Jesse Mayes it was a gorgeous brown-haired dude in a leather moto jacket and jeans, a cool tat on the back of his hand when he took off his sunglasses. His eyes were locked on me, because clearly he was here for only one reason.
