The Complete Rockstar Series

Home > Romance > The Complete Rockstar Series > Page 101
The Complete Rockstar Series Page 101

by Heather C. Leigh


  “Whatever you need. Let’s lie down.” I nod, so she shuffles off the couch. I follow her wordlessly to the bedroom. My rumpled bed is unmade, as usual. Abby smiles before climbing on the bed and facing the windows. I curl up behind her, fitting my body to hers. The scent of her hair, the feel of her body, the fact that’s she’s here, they give me the strength to begin.

  “My family. They’re all dead, and for a long time, I believed it was my fault.”

  Abby doesn’t say a word, but I feel her flinch. I wait for a reaction, for something. Finally, she breaks the silence. “I-I’m sure you didn’t kill them,” she rasps, her voice shaky.

  “I’m learning to accept that it wasn’t my fault, but I went to a party.” I swallow past the lump that forms in my throat. “I hated those parties. Never wanted to go. Wasn’t ever interested, but I played the part. I hated the shallow snobs I hung out with.” I pause to collect my thoughts. Abby snuggles closer. “That night, I went with a girl from school whose dad worked with mine. To make my parents happy. When I got there, I took a dose of X and lost track of everything, partying until I passed out. By the time I woke up, everyone was gone.”

  I hear her sharp inhale, her back shuddering against my chest. The amount of pain Abby feels on my behalf is staggering. It makes me fall in love her even more.

  “I had to call my parents to come get me. They were coming home from a late dinner at a friend’s house. My sister was with them to visit with their daughter.” Abby sobs, turning in my arms to run her hands down my chest.

  I run a hand down her hair. “Shhhhhh, it’s okay, Bee. I have to do this.” I kiss the top of Abby’s head as she cries for me.

  “On the way home, a car ran us off the road. I don’t remember any of it. Just… waking up in the car. It was dark and it took me a minute to realize it was upside down. I wasn’t wearing my seat belt.”

  I bark out a pathetic laugh at the fucking irony, a word so relevant in my life I had it tattooed across my abdomen. “Somehow, I was the only one who wasn’t wearing a seat belt and I’m the one who made it. Fucked up, right?” Abby stays quiet, letting me work through this on my own. “I thought it was raining inside the car, but something was off. Wrong. The rain, it was…it was hot.” Abby clings to me, her arms tightening almost painfully around my back. She throws a leg over my hip, locking us together from shoulders to toes. Breathe. Keep going. “I looked up to see what it was. It was my little sister, suspended over me by her seat belt. A tree branch went straight through her neck. The rain I felt, it was her blood.”

  I shudder from the relief of getting it out of my body, off my chest, finally explaining to Abby what happened so long ago. “That’s why I did all those reckless things. To forget. It’s the only way I could, Bee. The darkness never stopped.”

  “Henry…” Abby shifts to lie on top of me. I put my arms around her and pull her close. Abby’s tears streak down my bare chest, over the tattoo of angel wings with my sister’s initials drawn between them.

  “I love you,” I whisper. Abby shudders, shifting her head to release another quiet sob into my neck. “I’m sorry, for never telling you.”

  “No. Don’t apologize.” Abby runs her hands up and down my arms. She pulls back and we lock eyes when she presses her forehead to mine.

  “It hurt so much for so long, but I’m finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, Bee. It’s you. You’re my light.”

  Abby

  As I stare into Hawke’s eyes, our foreheads pressed together, our mouths a hairsbreadth apart, my heart breaks for this man. What he went through is so much worse than anything I imagined. I inhale sharply. It’s my turn to be brave.

  “My mom said she told you about Nick,” I whisper.

  Hawke nods. “I’m sorry.”

  I stifle a sob. “It wasn’t my fault. I know that now. I-I…”

  “Bee, it’s okay.” Hawke brushes his thumbs across my cheeks, swiping away the tears. Tears I cry for him, for me, for our losses, our misplaced guilt, the enormous amount of pain we both carried for the last decade.

  “Is it?” I ask, searching the depths of his eyes for an answer. “Will it ever be okay?”

  “It is now,” he says, his hot breath caressing my lips right before his mouth covers mine. The strength of the connection between us—the raw emotions Hawke displayed both onstage and here with me—is stronger, more powerful than anything I’ve ever felt.

  With our grief shed and a future together within reach, the need for each other is impossible to ignore. Out of loss comes love, love that has to be shown and felt and expressed physically, to feel alive.

  When I break away from the kiss to gulp down air, Hawke pulls my mouth back to his. The kisses become frenzied…sloppy and hot and wet and oh so good. Hawke thrusts his tongue hungrily into my open mouth and in an instant, my entire body is consumed by white-hot flames.

  “God, I missed you so much,” Hawke pants, pulling away to tear my shirt over my head and unfasten my bra before devouring my mouth again. Strong hands hold either side of my face, keeping me in place as he takes what he needs and gives back so much more.

  I swipe my tongue over the small stud in his lower lip before latching on with my teeth, sucking it into my mouth, and he growls. In one swift move, Hawke flips us over so I’m beneath him on the bed. My hands tug at his zipper, desperate for there to be nothing between us physically now that our ghosts are laid to rest.

  “Need you. Need these off.” Hawke grabs my pants by the waist and tears them off along with my underwear. He jumps to his feet, quickly shedding his own clothes.

  “Hurry,” I moan, writhing on the bed while he grabs a condom and rolls it down his rigid cock.

  I’m aching to have him inside me. Hawke is equally desperate because he no sooner has the condom on and he’s back, kneeling between my legs, and buries his entire length in one hard thrust.

  “Oh fuuuck, Abby.” Hawke squeezes his eyes shut, his face contorted with pleasure.

  Liquid fire spreads out from my groin, lighting up every inch of my body. “God, Henry. I missed you. Missed this.” I reach up and gently drag my nails down the rippling muscles of his back, causing him to arch up and moan.

  “Fuck, I want this to last, Abby, but I’m so fucking close already.” Hawke is gritting his teeth while staring down at me, his pupils dilated, lips swollen. Gone is the veil of ever-present sadness, the tension in his body, the mental wall he had up even when we made love. It’s like I’m seeing Hawke for the first time, and he’s beautiful.

  “Fuck me, Henry.” I don’t care about slow and loving. We have our entire future together to make love. Right now, I crave passion, rough and fast and hard.

  I dig my nails into his lower back and wrap my legs around his waist to press my heels against his ass, urging him on.

  “Jesus.” Hawke drops his head and snaps his hips, pulling almost all the way out before plunging deep again. Over and over until we’re both moaning and trembling.

  “Oh god!” I shout as Hawke hits that perfect spot with each push and pull, the constant friction bringing me to the edge so fast it catches me by surprise. Instead of the slow rise, a sharp spike of intense pleasure hits me out of nowhere. “Henry!” My body suddenly goes rigid and I arch my neck, pressing my head against the pillow as brilliant lights explode behind my eyes.

  “Fuck yes!” Hawke’s rhythm falters and he thrusts twice more before calling out my name, joining me in ecstasy as my body trembles and clenches tight around him.

  Exhausted, he collapses on top of me, our sweat-slick skin sticky and hot. It takes a minute to catch our breath. Hawke nuzzles my neck, dragging his lips over the sensitized skin until he reaches my mouth.

  “I love you so much, Abby.”

  I meet his gaze—so open, his heart finally set free—and my own heart jolts from the strength of my love for him. Hawke grins. “I surprised the hell out of you tonight.”

  My face heats up at the memory. “I should be mad at y
ou for declaring your love for me in front of all those people.” I try to sound chastising, but I’m too happy and end up laughing halfway through.

  “But…?” he asks.

  “I didn’t see anyone else. All I saw was you.”

  Hawke brushes his mouth over mine in a gentle kiss. He pulls back and his formerly playful expression is serious. “All I ever see is you, Bee. From the first time I met you, it was always going to be you. You’re it for me.”

  “I love you, Henry Evans.”

  We clean up and climb under the covers. Hawke curls around me, my back to his front, wrapping an arm around my waist to keep me close.

  His breath is warm and steady on my neck as I drift toward sleep. I’m almost there when Hawke whispers in my ear. “So I was thinking. What would you say if I asked you to declare our love in front of another group of people? This time a much smaller, more intimate group.”

  I grin. “I think I would say yes.”

  “Good to know,” he murmurs. Hawke tightens his arm around me and kisses the back of my neck. “Good to know.”

  Oh boy. Life with Hawke Evans will never, ever be boring.

  91

  Epilogue

  Hawke

  “It’s a gorgeous day.”

  I lift Abby’s hand, our fingers entwined, and kiss the back. “It is. It’s perfect,” I agree.

  The sun is bright over the Pacific, dappled by a scant smattering of clouds in the sky. A warm ocean breeze ruffles Abby’s blonde hair, a long tousled piece drifting across her cheek. I tuck it back with my free hand, grazing my knuckles down her soft skin.

  Abby smiles, her eyes shining as I lean in and kiss her. It starts sweet, a gentle brush of mouths. Then, as usual, I can’t get enough of her, skimming my tongue over her mouth until she parts her lips and lets me in. I groan, grabbing her hips to pull her into my growing hard-on.

  “Please! Can you two control yourselves for two bloody minutes?”

  I feel Abby smile against my mouth as she breaks the kiss.

  “Kate, you know we’re making up for lost time.” I shoot her a glare which she returns without batting an eye.

  “That’s all well and good, but we’re about to start. They’re waiting for you in the house.” She jerks her thumb over her shoulder.

  “Okay, tell them I’ll be right there.” Kate huffs, but turns on her heel and hurries across the sand, her dress fluttering around her bare ankles. I turn back to Abby and give her one last peck on the lips. “I have to go. Gavin’s probably a wreck by now.”

  She giggles. “I doubt it. He’d be happy to hop a plane to Vegas if Mitch would agree to it.”

  I give Abby a sly grin. “You mean like we did?”

  Abby smiles, looking down to twist the simple platinum band on her left ring finger. “Exactly.” She glances back up, her face one of pure happiness. “Who would have thought Mitch would be the one to want a real wedding?”

  I step back from my wife, knowing if I don’t stop touching her, I’ll never get back up to Gavin’s house. As best man, that would be bad. As it is, Gavin is freaking out, and not because he’s about to get married. Nope. He’s freaking out because his fiancé is a twitching, nervous wreck. The big scary FBI man is a perfectionist, and he wanted to make today perfect for Gavin. Who knew?

  “Are you upset we didn’t have a real wedding?” I ask, twisting my own ring with my thumb.

  “I’ve got everything I want right here,” Abby whispers. “Now go, before Mitch comes looking for you.”

  My eyes go wide and I shudder. “Yeah, you’re right.” Mitch is scary when he’s pissed. I jog toward the house. “I’ll see you in a few, Bee. Love you.”

  “Love you too!” she calls out after me.

  “Took you long enough,” Adam says as I hurry through the kitchen where he’s hanging out with Dax.

  I glance at the two of them, chatting with Ellie and Kate. Gavin’s mom is entertaining Sadie and Lucas, Adam and Ellie’s two kids, and Poppy, Dax and Kate’s daughter. “You all better get out there,” I say. “Once I get upstairs and make sure everyone is good to go, we’re starting.”

  “Right. Let’s go,” Dax says, pushing off the kitchen counter he was leaning on. I hear the sounds of everyone exiting the back door to the beach while I take the stairs two at a time.

  I pause outside the master bedroom, steeling myself to face the wrath of Mitch for leaving Gavin alone for a few minutes. With a quick knock, I open the door… and have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. Three sets of eyes turn in my direction—one pleading for help, one amused, and Mitch? Well, Mitch is losing his shit.

  “I can’t, Gav. I thought I could but I just can’t.” Mitch fumbles with the slate gray tie around his neck, yanking at it uselessly.

  “Stop. I’ll get it off for you if you’ll stop touching it.” Gavin swats at Mitch’s trembling hands.

  “Fine,” Mitch hisses from between clenched teeth. “Hurry up.”

  Gavin scowls at his fiancé. With a huff, he deftly unknots the silky material and pulls until it slithers out from Mitch’s collar.

  “How are you, Hawke?”

  I glance over at Sasha, Mitch’s coworker from his days in the FBI and his best “woman.” “Sasha, you look lovely.” I give her a quick kiss on the cheek.

  “Thanks. Maybe you could…” Sasha pointedly looks in Mitch’s direction, leaving her question unfinished. With the flick of her wrist, she tosses her raven-colored hair over her shoulder.

  What? I can’t control Mitch? He doesn’t listen to anyone when he gets like this. I stare at Sasha, giving her my best “what the fuck?” look, which she ignores.

  I roll my eyes. Dammit. “Hey guys. What’s going on?”

  Gavin glances up at me, his expression letting me know he thinks Mitch is calming down. “We’re not going to wear ties.” Gavin stands up straight from where he’s crouched down next to Mitch, who is sitting on the bed. “It’s too formal for the beach anyway,” he says, quickly removing his own gray tie and unbuttoning the top of his shirt.

  “Thank god.” I loosen my own tie and throw it on a nearby chair. “I fucking hate those things.”

  Mitch, the panic gone from his face, meets my eyes. “You do?” he asks.

  I nod. “Can’t stand them. I don’t have to wear them very often, but when I do, I feel like I’m choking.”

  Mitch exhales and the last of the stress leaks out of his tense frame. “Me too. I thought it was just me,” he says.

  “I told you it wasn’t that unusual,” Gavin says. From over Mitch’s shoulder, Sasha shakes her head at Gavin, urging him away from the I told you so. “I mean, it’s not a big deal. Whatever you want to wear is fine with me. As long as you’re here, I don’t need anything else.”

  “Okay,” Mitch says, smiling hesitantly. He stands up, letting Gavin give him a small kiss. At his side, I notice Mitch rubbing his thumb and forefinger together. He’s anxious as hell. It’s kind of charming, I guess. The fearless, brawny Mitch nervous on his wedding day.

  “Well boys,” Sasha says loudly, clapping her hands together. “This is nice and all, but I was told there would be a wedding at three o’clock. It’s currently,” she checks the clock on the nightstand, “three thirty. Are we doing this or what? I’m hungry and we can’t have food until you two get down there and do your thing.”

  Mitch glances at Sasha, and back at Gavin. “You ready?”

  Gavin grins. “I’ve been ready, Utah.”

  The quick ceremony goes off without a hitch, Mitch’s nervousness shedding the minute he stands with Gavin in front of the intimate group of friends and family. Hired security keeps people out of the roped-off area of beach in front of Gavin and Mitch’s house, but there’s still a thick crowd of paparazzi and lookie-loos lining the edges of the barrier.

  None of us pay them any attention. We’re having too much fun. Mitch’s parents are chatting with Gavin’s mom, Adam and Dax are laughing with Adam’s kids, while Ellie an
d Kate talk with Sasha and Ross with her date, a quiet guy named Bill or Bob or something like that.

  I sip a glass of champagne, watching everyone important in my life, my friends, my family, enjoying the day. Enjoying life. I frown when I can’t find Abby anywhere in the small group. After a minute or two of scanning each face, I finally find her on the back deck, holding a sleeping Poppy Davies in her arms.

  “You’re all alone,” I murmur when I reach my wife’s side.

  “I’m never alone,” she replies, gently rocking from one foot to the other. “Not when I have you.”

  I reach up and skim my thumb over her shoulder blade, dark ink exposed by the cut of her dress. The Welsh text inscribed on her tan skin, the same words I have inscribed over my heart, remind me of how much we’ve overcome to get where we are.

  O'r llanast , gall pethau prydferth dyfu

  From the wreckage, beautiful things can grow.

  I look at my wife, radiant in the waning early evening light, and know the truth in that quote. What we have, Abby and me, is beautiful. It took years and a hell of a lot of heartbreak to get here, but it was worth every bit of suffering I endured to have her in my life. All of the dark times almost seem to have occurred in another time, to another person. Memories of the unending misery that used to shroud me have been dulled by Abby’s presence, by my own happiness.

  I put an arm around her waist, pulling her close. Poppy sighs, her cute little lips parted, her blonde hair curling on Abby’s chest. “I love you,” I whisper in her ear.

  Abby tilts her head until it touches my shoulder. “I love you too.” We watch the sun set over the ocean while our family parties on into the night.

 

‹ Prev