On the Way Down

Chapter Two

The appropriate soundtrack for this moment would be the abrupt scratch of a needle pulled off a vinyl record. Whoever controls the music at Nebula gives me a Journey song instead. So help me, I wish I could jump on a real-life version of its lyrical midnight train and go anywhere but here.

Phoenix's hand drifts away from my shoulder. He materializes in front of me, and now I have no other option but to acknowledge him.

"Hey." My tone is surprisingly indifferent, and even confident. I'm not an actor, but all the times I helped Phoenix run lines when we were together must have programmed my neural pathways with the ability to convincingly play pretend.

I force myself to meet his stare, then immediately regret it. His honey-brown eyes have always been expressive in ways where words fail. It's some sort of superpower that knocks all coherent thought into another galaxy.

"You look incredible. How are you?" He touches my shoulder again, as if the years of separation between us don't exist. As if he isn't the one to blame.

My brain fumbles to form a reply. What am I supposed to say to that? I'm fine now, thanks. I gave myself my own closure after you walked out and left me on read for six years.

The truth is, I don't know if I'm fine. I thought I was over this a long time ago. But now that I'm standing mere inches from him, inhaling the scent of his aftershave and hearing his voice, a part of me is transported to a time when we knew each other intimately. Phoenix and Delaney. Nix and Del. He always came first in those days, especially to me.

"Would you look at what the cat dragged in?" Ava's question is colder than the ice cubes that clink together in her glass as she takes a sip of her drink and gives my ex-boyfriend the once-over. "Shouldn't you be somewhere shooting your comeback blockbuster, or are you back to low-budget indie films these days?"

God, I love her.

"Ava, it's always a pleasure to see you." Phoenix shifts his gaze to her. "And funny you should ask. I'm on location out here, but have a few days off."

"I hope it goes better for you than North Node did."

I'm not sure whether to gasp or laugh at Ava's jab, so I bite down on my lip and watch Phoenix for a reaction instead. I'll give him credit, because he doesn't even flinch. Lord knows he should. North Node is the box-office flop that knocked him off of Hollywood's A-list and was the catalyst for a tabloid scandal that cost him his agent and the lead role in a production he had already signed on to. The whole ordeal allegedly drove him into hiding. Whether the rumor about him intentionally disappearing is true or not, he dropped off the celebrity radar almost entirely after everything went down and hasn't starred in any films since.

"It can't be worse, right?" He flashes a megawatt smile at Ava, like he's in on the joke, then locks eyes with me again. "North Node is just one more thing on my list of decisions I regret."

I should look away. I need to. And yet here I am, powerless in his presence. It's as though years haven't passed and I haven't climbed upwards in my life and career with book deals, film options, and fans, and he hasn't fallen from grace in every conceivable way.

No. I'm stronger than this. I have to be. He doesn't get to act like everything is cool.

"Why are you here?" I purse my lips, hoping this comes across to him as icy and unimpressed.

"I know Nash, and he told me about the show."

It doesn't answer why he's in front of me, acting as if he didn't once shatter my heart and give zero fucks about it, but it tells me Torin had no part in him showing up tonight. Torin knows what happened between us, but Nash didn't enter the scene as his bandmate until after my personal life imploded.

"Let me rephrase that. Why are you talking to me?"

He flinches at this, at least, and his response takes longer this time. "Because we had a deep connection once, and you were a big part of my life. I still think about you."

"Bullshit. You made yourself dead to me for years." I down the rest of my drink. Liquid courage is definitely kicking in.

Ava's gaze darts from Phoenix to me like she's watching a tennis match. I'm about to excuse myself and bolt for the restroom before this conversation breaks me, when the volume fades on the song in the room. A thumping drum beat emerges in its place.

I look up to see Torin behind his drum kit. He twirls a drum stick and grins at me, but the joy on his face fades when he spots Phoenix.

"Are you okay?" he mouths. I bob my head, since I'm physically fine and don't want to distract him from playing. Emotionally, though? That's a different story.

Phoenix leans in closer. "I know I owe you an apology," he murmurs, his words tickling my ear. "I was an asshole. You didn't deserve what I did."

This must be what an out-of-body experience or falling into an alternate universe feels like. For all the times I imagined Phoenix apologizing to me, before I gave up on ever hearing from him again, nothing quite prepared me for it actually happening.

It also doesn't change a thing. Or it shouldn't, anyway. But I'm lightheaded now, along with being a jumbled mess of thoughts and feelings I didn't see coming. Self-preservation demands I shut this entire thing down.

"Let me enjoy the music, okay? It's what I came to Vegas for."

I stare straight ahead at the stage, because there's a good chance I'll sway or tip over if I turn my head or body toward him. Literally falling into the arms of my ex is the last thing I need to do tonight. My body would betray me and want to stay there, no matter what my brain insisted I do.

"Can I talk to you after the show?"

"I have plans after the show."

Any qualms I had about staying out all night have evaporated now that this is giving me a reason for not continuing our conversation. Torin and Ava's scheming to set me up with Nash is suddenly on the level of solving for world peace.

"If you mean the after party, Nash invited me to that. Maybe we can talk then if you're going."

Of course he's going to the after party. Why wouldn't this become the most bizarre and emotionally fraught night of my life?

Ava taps my shoulder and wedges herself between us. "I'm going to the bar for a refill. Want another drink?"

"I'll come with you," I tell her. As much as I would like to keep my front-row view of Torin and his band, I want the escape from my personal sideshow more.

Ava grabs my hand and leads me away from the stage and Phoenix. I half-expect him to follow us, but he remains where he is. Perhaps he senses Ava is holding back on letting him have it. I do.

"What'll it be?" she asks. "I'm buying this round."

She also bought the last round, but we can settle the bill later. I have a hunch this won't be our last trip to the bar.

"Something strong that comes in a shot glass. You choose."

Forget everything I said to Torin about not doing shots. If the way tonight has played out so far is anything to go by, I'm going to need a lot more than one.