That Blue Gibson

CH 88

Liz finished the last of her wine and set the glass on the table, tilting her head when the waiter immediately arrived to refill it. She wondered if she looked that bad... if something about her screamed "don't even ask, just keep pouring" because that's exactly how she felt. Paul sat directly across the table, watching her intently with a sage smile. 

"I didn't think you liked wine..."

"Beer will always have my heart, Paul," she admitted. "But it turns out I was just drinking really crappy wine."

He laughed and nodded to the waiter when the bill was dropped off. "Paris really did a number on you, love."

She forced her smile to remain on her face as she shrugged. "They say it always changes people, though they don't specify if it's for the best or not."

Paul chuckled and reached across the table to pat her hand. "Have you chosen a place to mix your song yet?" he asked, changing the subject.

Liz had almost forgotten about her composition piece. She had been back in LA for five days and hadn't received as much as a text from Dave. The morning after his gig in Italy, she was leaving a coffee shop and was confronted by a photographer who excitedly informed her he had struggled through the encore so much that he had to restart Everlong twice. He probably has a cold, she had said, then hurried to her car to cancel her lunch date with her manager, opting to cry alone on her back deck instead. As far as the world knew they were still together, but she knew better and didn't want any updates on him, she just wanted to move on and pretend it didn't hurt as much as it did. The dress and Dave's silence were confirmation that he had decided to make things work with Jordyn and Liz was fine with that. She was happy for them, happy for their girls and she knew in time she could be happy for herself as well. 

She and Paul discussed the mixing process, something she wasn't very familiar with and made a date to meet at a studio in the next week to get it finished and sent to her professors. Once they had emptied the bottle of wine between them, most of it poured into Liz's glass, they politely smiled and pushed their way through the crowd of fans gathered around the front door of the restaurant.  

In the safety of the valet tent, Liz shivered a bit, wishing she had worn tights under her dress against the fall air. It had been warm when she left the house, but once the sun went down and the desert cold set in she realized she wasn't yet acclimated to her new home's weather quirks. Paul bumped her shoulder with his when his car pulled up and gave her a slow smile.

"Ready, love?"

"Yep!" she chirped. Pretending to be happy was so physically and emotionally exhausting that she just wanted to go home and get into bed.

Completely immersed in thoughts of the ocean just outside of her new bedroom window, she opened the passenger side door and found that her seat was already occupied by her matte black moto helmet. Frowning in confusion, she looked up across the car roof at Paul and his apologetic smile.

"Sorry, love. He wouldn't leave me alone until I agreed."

She let out a long breath when she saw him across the street, frantically telling herself to get into Paul's car and go, but the way he was staring at her, sitting sideways on his bike and leaning one arm on the handlebars, she knew she was going to end up on the back of that goddamn bike eventually.

"No, it's okay. He and I needed to talk anyway," she grabbed her helmet and met Paul in the headlight beams at the front of the car.

"He loves you very much, Elizabeth," he whispered when she hugged him.

"I love him, too. Thanks for dinner. Tell Nancy hello for me," she smiled and kissed his cheek, waving goodbye when she jogged across the street to Dave. 

Her stiletto sandals clicked loudly on the pavement and Dave shoved off his bike when she was still several feet away, coming at her so quickly that she stopped cold in the middle of the sidewalk. She let her hopes rise when he crashed into her and held her tightly, but he made no move to kiss her or even look her in the eye. Her arms were pinned between them, preventing her from holding him, so she leaned her head into his shoulder instead. His silence sent her anxiety into overdrive and when he took a shuddering breath, she told herself to prepare for the worst. If he wouldn't kiss her in public, it could only mean one thing. She stumbled a little when he suddenly let her go, grabbing her hand and pulling her along until they were next to his bike. 

It was one she hadn't seen before, a low black Harley with sweeping lines and an exposed engine, similar to her beloved cafe racers except this one had an actual seat on the rear fender, one with a backrest. 

"Come with me," he managed, his voice hoarse.

"Um...," she gripped her helmet and looked over at Paul's car that was still waiting on the other side of the street. In her hesitation, she was trying to find a graceful way for her to get on the back of the bike without flashing her underwear at the mob across the street, but Dave clearly read into it differently. 

"Please, Liz," he breathed. It was so desperate and sad that she looked up into his eyes for the first time in almost a week and saw the tears that were threatening to spill. She could ignore the mob of intruders across the street with their cameras, but she couldn't handle how broken he looked. Before she could answer, he grabbed her arm so she was facing him. "I'm fucking begging you, Elizabeth. Please talk to me. The past five days have been-"

"Dave, stop," she interrupted, her eyes darting from his to the crowd across the street that now included several professional paparazzi. 

"No," he said firmly. "Fuck them. I need to talk to you whether we have an audience or not."

Liz pursed her lips in annoyance, there was no way in hell she was going to allow her emotional devastation to become front page news. Raking her hair off of her face, she yanked her helmet on then strapped the band under her chin. "Well?" she snapped when he just stared at her. "Are we going?"

Slowly, like he was in some sort of daze, he put his own helmet on before swinging his leg over the seat and kicking the stand up. She could feel her Pops frowning from where ever he was in the universe as she climbed onto the back of a rock star's bike in a short, black cocktail dress and four-inch heels. As graceful as she tried to be, the crowd still whistled and catcalled when her skirts refused to lay flat and she knew her face was probably beet red.

Her mind was in a thousand places at once as he fired up the bike. Was she supposed to lean against the backrest or hold on to him? Should she take off her heels since they won't stay on the pegs? Where were they even going? Her questions ground to a halt the moment his fingers grazed her ankle to check if she was ready, not her thigh as he had done before. It was a small gesture, but confirmation that he had chosen Jordyn over her and he was about to take her somewhere private to break the news. 

The wind in the city was chilly but tolerable if Liz zipped her leather jacket up to her neck. She spent the first half of the ride with one hand holding her skirt down and the other wrapped around the grab rail, trying to look over Dave's shoulder to see where they were headed, but once he hit the Pacific Coast Highway headed north towards Malibu, the temperature significantly dropped and she began to shiver uncontrollably. Toughing it out as long as she could, she wondered if Dave could feel her shaking over the bike's engine and slid herself forward until her chest touched his back. He jolted a little in surprise, but when his hand came back to grip her thigh, she wound her arms around his waist, held on tightly and told herself not to get her hopes back up. She just focused on holding onto him, the heat from his back warming her and began to practice her apology once they got to where ever they were going. 

"Sorry, I was literally freezing to death back there and I know it was inappropriate but-"

She looked up in surprise when he killed the engine at speed, coasting down an angled driveway in silence before squeezing the brakes next to Liz's black pick up.