by Lisa Suzanne
A woman like me, for example.
“This is gorgeous,” I breathe, stepping over to the windows to look at the view. The waves roll in and out rhythmically, and I suddenly feel so...relaxed.
“Thanks.” His voice is quiet—almost shy, and it’s surprising given how we both grew up. He would’ve been able to afford this place even before hitting it big with the band just because of his roots. In fact, the house he lived in next door to me was probably twice the size of this one, albeit not directly on the beach.
“Why’d you decide to live on the beach?” I ask at that thought.
“The views.” His answer is immediate and a little rehearsed, but I don’t stop to ask if there’s more to it.
Instead, I collapse onto the couch at the foot of his bed and turn my gaze to the view. He opens the slider doors and we can hear the ocean as the waves roll in and out. Seagulls dive into the water and a few runners pepper the walkway separating Gavin’s place from the beach. It’s a perfectly tranquil moment in here with the salty sea breeze blowing in and the gorgeous view, including Gavin in my periphery.
He turns toward me. “The perfect view.”
I nod as I move my gaze to the beauty outside the window. “So perfect, Gav.”
He shakes his head. “I’m not looking out there. I’m looking at you. Sitting in my house, in my bedroom, on my couch. As perfect as ever, but even more beautiful ten years later.” He’s musing, staring nearly through me again, like he’s composing song lyrics while he takes in his view.
“Stop it,” I say shyly because I’m certainly not the gorgeous girl I was ten years ago when my family had the means for the best stylists and products.
He takes a few steps toward me then slides down onto the couch beside me. His eyes are back on me, intense and heated, and I can’t help it when my eyes flick to his lips again. I just want to feel them on mine, just one more time, and then I’ll attempt to figure out what I’m supposed to do.
We face off for a beat, and then he leans in toward me, his palm coming up to cup my neck. His lips land gently on mine, and it’s like he’s showing me all the ways he can kiss me. The first started out slow but had all these lusty undertones. The second was straight-up intense. But this one...this is tender. Sweet.
At least it starts that way.
Everything about Gavin Brooks is intense, and even the sweet kiss turns that way before long, too. We make out on his couch like we’re a couple of high school kids. I wonder if it would’ve been like this ten years ago if Chase had never been part of the equation.
The confusion in my heart prompts me to slow it down and pull back a little.
Last night when I slept with this man, it was from a place of innocence. It was before I was presented with the second chance I’ve craved for way too long.
But now? If I get physical with him now, it’s with the knowledge there’s potentially someone else in the picture...and that’s not fair to Gavin.
I palm his cheek for a second, his rough stubble beneath my skin a reminder that this is real and not just some crazy dream. His eyes find mine, and they’re so full of lust mixed with reverence that it momentarily takes my breath away.
I drop my hand from his cheek. “I want this again, Gav. I do. But I think we need to slow things down a little.”
His eyes search both of mine. I don’t know what he sees there, but he nods. “You’re right. It’s all happening so fast and it’s been so long.” He takes my hand in his.
“I’d love to get to know you again,” I say as I stare down at our hands.
“You know me. I’m the same guy I was.”
I shake my head. “You’ve already admitted you’re different. You go after what you want now. You don’t stop until you get it. You just said that in the kitchen.”
He smiles wryly. “Damn, you really were listening.”
“What else is different?”
He lifts a shoulder. “I don’t know. I’ve sold some records now.”
“Some?” I ask, emphasizing the word.
“Okay, a bunch.” He stands and paces toward the window like he’s uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation.
“How has that changed you?” I ask, still sitting on the couch.
“It’s put me in a spotlight I never expected when Liam, Ollie, Dane, and I first jammed in a little practice room at UCLA.” He stops his pacing and turns toward the window. He stares out over the beach. “It’s afforded me opportunities I never thought I’d have.”
“But how has it changed you?” I pry.
He turns to look at me. “It’s made me more private. More reserved. Careful with how I act or what I say and where I say it.”
“Of course it has. If you’re always in the spotlight, people will easily mince words.”
“They’ve painted this persona of me that’s not really me.” He clears his throat. “I’m sure you’ve seen it.”
I raise a brow. “The whole sleeping around thing?”
He shrugs. “Some of it’s true, some isn’t.”
I’m surprised at the stab of jealousy I feel in my gut at his admission.
“It’s what I had to do to try to move past you, Laney.” His voice is low. “But no one could ever replace those feelings, no matter how hard I tried. So eventually I stopped trying, stopped looking, and just did what felt good.”
My heart squeezes in my chest, and I stand and walk over to him, linking my arms around his waist. “How does this feel now?” I ask softly.
“It feels like everything I’ve wanted for the last fourteen years.”
Tears fill my eyes at his words, and I tip my chin up. He leans down to kiss me again, and we both lose ourselves in the passion and emotions.
He has a late lunch meeting across town, so I head out a little while later after more catching up and a little more kissing. “Thanks,” I say, my hand on the front door as I step through it.
He furrows his brows in confusion as to why I’d be thanking him.
“First an orgasm last night and then a burrito this morning.” My cheeks turn pink that I actually said the words aloud, and his laughter chases behind me all the way to my car.
I call Rose on my way back to her place to let her know I’m coming...and, of course, to dissect my day with my best friend.
“Tell me you didn’t give it up to him that fast,” she answers.
I laugh as I stop at a red light. “I didn’t give it all up.”
“Well meeting a guy at his hotel certainly makes it easy to fall right into old bed habits.”
I grip my steering wheel as a bout of guilt washes over me. She’s talking about Chase, not Gavin.
“Dee? You there?”
I clear my throat. “Yeah.” My voice is small.
“What’s wrong?”
I screw up my face in an attempt to ward off the sudden heat behind my eyes. “I ran out on Chase halfway through breakfast.”
“You...you what? Where have you been since then?”
“Gavin’s.” My voice is barely above a whisper.
“You were at Gavin’s?” She doesn’t mask her shock. “Why? How? But...wait. Why?”
I sigh. “Let’s backtrack. Chase said he was stupid to do what he did ten years ago and he wants me back.”
“Oh my God, Dee. That’s everything.”
“It should be everything. It was everything...everything I thought I wanted for ten years. But then he said the words and I couldn’t stop thinking about Gavin and last night and now I’m even more confused.” I’m rambling as I drive, but I need to talk through the pain stabbing me in my heart. “Rose, I don’t know what to do. I’ve only ever wanted Chase back, but then Gavin presents something totally different that I never saw coming in the same damn night. It’s not fair!”
“It’s not fair that these two men are fighting for your attention?” she asks, clearing her throat like she can’t believe I’m complaining.
“It’s not supposed to be like this. That’s
all I’m saying.” I blow out a frustrated breath as I try to get a hold on the anger suddenly seeping through me at this situation. Why did Chase have to wait ten long years to figure this out? Come to think of it, why did Gavin wait? “It was always supposed to be Chase, yet I have this rush of feelings for Gavin, too.”
“Don’t you think you owe it to yourself to see where things go with Chase?” she asks.
“The teenager in me thinks so. But the adult in me wonders if Chase is still what I want or if someone like Gavin could make me happy.” My voice is small as I admit the truth out loud for the first time.
“So Chase said he wants you back, and your response was to leave?”
“Pretty much. I told him I needed to process what he was saying. I was in the elevator when I got a text from Gavin, so I went to his place.”
“Well that’s interesting. I spent part of my morning with his roommate.”
“You were with Liam?” I hit the brakes as the car in front of me comes to a stop. One thing I don’t love about Los Angeles is the traffic.
“Yeah. I guess Gavin told him to stay the fuck out until he sent him the all clear. I’m pretty sure he threatened Liam’s life if he interrupted.”
My cheeks warm. He wanted me alone. “Guess what he told me?”
“Hmm?”
“‘Locked Up.’ It’s about me. He wrote it a few weeks after Chase ended things with me and he actually used the word love.”
“I fucking knew it! Dee, I told you.”
“You didn’t tell me he was in love with me. Or is in love with me.”
“What about Chase?” she asks.
“Good question.”
What about him?
Because right now, after the time we just shared, my heart seems to be leaning the way of Gavin Brooks even though my head is telling me I owe it to myself to explore the possibilities with Chase.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I start my Monday with a meeting at school. I didn’t text Chase last night for two reasons. One, I wasn’t ready to muddy up the waters further, and two, I wanted to sit in bliss and think about my time with Gavin. I deserve to be happy. I just haven’t quite figured out who is going to lead me to that happiness. Chase made me happy a decade ago—happier than I’ve ever been in my life. But what if Gavin is my chance at happiness as an adult?
I can’t have them both. I have to choose, and I’m terrified if I don’t play my cards right, I’ll end up exactly where I was before the reunion...pining for a man I can’t have while exploring the dating pool and coming up short.
It’s back to reality. Summer school classes start tomorrow, so I had to meet with my curriculum team to make sure we’re all on the same page. My classes will meet twice a week—Tuesday and Thursday for four hours a day. It’s a seventh-grade enrichment class for the next few weeks—but it’s totally worth the pay.
The other part of my reality is that Chase goes back to Denver tomorrow, so I know I need to see him tonight. I can’t keep him hanging while I figure out what I want.
On my drive home after my meeting, I draft my text to Chase in my head. I’m not really quite sure what I want to say to him since I spent most of last night thinking about Gavin’s lips rather than processing Chase’s words like I said I needed to.
The apartment is empty when I get home, most likely because my brother is at work. Even though I thought about it the entire way home, I can’t come up with what to say over text...so rather than text, I pull up his number and hit the call button.
My heart thumps as I wait. It rings six times and I’m about to give up when he answers, his voice breathless. “Hey, Dee.”
“Sorry, did I catch you at a bad time?”
“Not at all. I was just running on the treadmill here at the hotel gym. What’s up?”
“I promised I’d get in touch, and here I am.” My voice is brighter than it ought to be considering I don’t have an answer for him yet.
“It’s nice to hear your voice.”
“Yours, too.” I say it because it’s the right thing to say...but I also realize I mean it. Can we get back to what we once were? Or is the weight of the way he broke me the first time around too heavy to overcome?
“When can I see you?”
“I just finished work for the day, so I’m free pretty much the rest of the day.” I sound so lame.
“Aren’t you a teacher? Don’t you get summers off?”
“Well, yeah, but I’m teaching summer school a couple days a week.”
“Why?” he asks, and I can’t help my laugh at his cluelessness. “Wouldn’t you rather have the time off?”
“Absolutely, but time off doesn’t pay the bills.”
“Oh.” He’s quiet as he processes that. “I get that.”
Do you? I want to ask the question, but I don’t...in part because I don’t think he does, but also in part because I don’t really want to know if he does. I’d like to live at least a few more hours in a fantasyland where everything I wanted could actually work out.
“Can you come to my hotel?” he asks after a short stretch of silence falls between us.
That gives him the home field advantage, and I think maybe we need neutral ground tonight.
“Can we meet somewhere in the middle?” I ask.
“Um...” He pauses as if he’s thinking it over. “Sure. That’s fine. Where?”
I wonder what his hesitation is all about, but I’ve already made the trek to his hotel once, and I’d like to see him put forth a smidgen of effort if he’s serious about what he said yesterday.
“What about that little dive café in West Hollywood that we used to go to?” I suggest.
“Okay,” he says. “Meet you there in an hour?”
“Sounds good,” I say, even though it means I need to scramble to make myself presentable.
I’m fifteen minutes into my half-hour drive, and I’ve been careful to focus my thoughts on Chase...until a Beyond Gold song comes on the radio, and then I can’t stop thinking about Gavin.
It isn’t “Locked Up,” but it’s still a song about a guy whose love isn’t reciprocated. It’s an anthem to the past, a love note to a woman. I’m not so arrogant to believe it’s me before Gavin confirms it is, but the passion I hear in the deep and raspy voice of his makes me want it to be about me.
And so, when I arrive at the restaurant where I’m supposed to come face to face with a man from my past who’s waiting for an answer from me, I’ve got Gavin on the brain. It doesn’t give Chase much of a positive start...and I feel like that’s really not fair to him.
I check my phone when I arrive, and I have a text from Chase.
Chase: I’m at the restaurant. I grabbed a table in the back.
I don’t respond; instead, I take a deep, cleansing breath in as I tell myself that on the exhale, I’ll be breathing out all thoughts of Gavin so I can concentrate on what I’m going to tell Chase.
Because I still don’t know.
I breathe out, and as I do, I think of Gavin’s lips. His erection pressed against my body, and the way he slid it into me. The way he looks at me and the sounds of the beach outside his bedroom window and the exact shade of blue in his irises.
I shake my head to clear it. That little breathing exercise didn’t help.
I head inside because standing out here trying to breathe out thoughts of Gavin only seems to be making me think of him more. I walk toward the back of the restaurant and spot the back of Chase’s head. He’s facing the wall, and my brows draw down as I wonder why.
I slide in across from him, and I have to admit...he looks yummy. His usually messy hair is hidden beneath a baseball cap pulled down low, nearly covering his eyes, and he’s wearing a Nike t-shirt and jeans. He’s much more casual than the preppy guy I went to breakfast with yesterday, and I can’t help but think that this is the Chase I once knew.
His eyes find me, and he smiles. “Hey.”
He takes a sip from his water glass, and I pick mine up. I
hold it up in a mock-toast before I smile back, and after I take a sip, my curiosity gets the better of me. “Why the corner booth?”
He lifts a modest shoulder. “People tend to recognize me, and I’m not in the mood to chat up Broncos fans when this is about you and me.”
“Oh.” I feel like an idiot. Of course—that’s why he invited me to his hotel, not to have some advantage over me. I feel awful for totally misreading the situation. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even think of that.”
“It’s okay. We’re good back here.” He tilts his head up so I can see his eyes under the brim of his cap, and he winks at me. It’s such a casual and sweet blast from the past that I’m momentarily transported back ten years...butterflies and all.
I pick up my menu even though I always ordered the grilled cheese and tomato soup when we used to frequent this place. We both did, but right now the menu gives me something to look at besides the eyes prying into me from across the table.
We’re quiet until the waitress comes by to take our orders, and I get the usual. So does Chase, and it’s reminiscent of such a simpler time, one where we had all the time in the world, one where he wasn’t a famous athlete who might be recognized at this dive café, one where I didn’t have to get up in the morning to go to a job that I need to go to in order to make sure I can pay for my phone service and my electric bill and food for the week.
Once the waitress leaves with our menus, I have nothing else to distract me.
He blows out a breath, and his demeanor changes to one of sudden nervousness. “Did you...” he starts, and then he stops himself. “Um, have you thought about what I said yesterday?”
No would be the honest answer. I was too busy hanging out with a rock star.
I don’t say that for obvious reasons.
“A little,” I say instead. It’s not exactly a lie.