Back to Me (Book Three ✓)

nineteen

BEAU

Zach pivots on his heel, taking in the full 360-view of the shabby apartment I'm renting and let's out a low whistle. Scanning the take-out containers and the clothes strewn about, he chuckles when he faces me again.

"You're still a slob."

I shrug casually, unbothered by the observation. "Like you said, some things don't change."

Mansion in LA or run-down apartment in the middle of nowhere, I hate doing laundry. And cooking. I never really learned how to be domestic, I guess.

I observe Zach intently as he takes a seat on the lumpy sofa that came with the place, pushing his sleeves back and leaning his forearms on his knees. After a moment of silence - one that's seems more uncomfortable for him than for me - he grins at me expectantly.

"I guess we should just get it over with." He runs a hand over his perfectly styled hair, "Did you think about what I said?"

I nod reluctantly, shame and embarrassment threatening to crack my neutral expression. "I've thought about it a lot."

"And?" Zach leans forward, excitement evident in his grin.

"And I don't think I can be your guitar player." I exhale, the burning regret at the back of my throat as scalding as ever.

Zach's face falls, his emotions always played out clearly in his expressions. "Oh."

I realize that I've stumped him - he was really sure I'd say yes. My brows furrow and I look away, into the kitchen and the endless piles of empty food containers. Up until this morning, I'd been pretty sure, too. How could I let music get away from me like this?

Running a hand over my face tiredly, I try to offer an explanation. "I'm not ready." God, I hate that. But a quick internet search reminded me why it's better if I stay away. "But maybe I could write for you."

Zach's mouth pops open and he closes it immediately, like a fish. Shoving a hand through his hair, he starts to laugh, seeming relieved.

"I mean, yeah, Beau. Obviously I wish you'd play but I'll take why I can get." He shakes his head. "I never thought I'd see the day when Beau Lewis wrote for someone else. I guess some things do change."

I try to mimic his easy chuckle but inside, I feel the same way. My work has always been my own. The idea of being behind the scenes makes my toes curl. But at least it's a start. A start that won't drag me through hell and cost me my family in the process.

"I'm not entirely happy about it." I sigh, headed into the kitchen for some water to soothe the flames licking up my throat.

"And there's the Beau I know." Zach follows, reaching into the fridge after me and taking a cold bottle - the last remaining item in there. "Hey man," He takes a long chug, the plastic crackling between us awkwardly. "I think it's really great you're sober and everything. Good for you."

"Thanks." I try for positivity, offering a tight lipped half smile and brushing his hand from my shoulder. Hearing Dr. Dex in the back of my mind like some inner voice of reason, I sigh an apology. "Sorry, by the way. For all the shit I did before."