by J. Saman
But before I can even reach the door, my chest clenches and a smile inadvertently curls up the corner of my lips.
Lee.
She came. And I bet the adorable girl thinks she’s getting away with something right now because I wasn’t there when she came. I do my best to listen in, to catch some of their conversation before I make myself known, but it’s tough to do. Lyric isn’t speaking all that loud and my father’s speech is difficult to understand, plus he practically whispers now because he’s so weak.
“It’s going very well. Better than Robert or I ever envisioned,” she says, and even though I have no idea what she’s referring to, I can’t help but hurt for her. She lost Robert. I knew that. I tried to reach out, but finding her number was like trying to get in touch with the Pope directly. She doesn’t have any personal social media accounts. Her number is unlisted and her cell phone number was an enigma. I tried to steal my father’s phone once to get it, only to discover the bastard had it memorized because she wasn’t listed anywhere in his contacts. When you call her at work, you have to go through twenty different people and then her assistant chronically tells you that she’ll leave a message for Lyric.
I even said I was family once and that it was an emergency. She hung up on me.
It’s why when I saw Melody, I went a little nuts. It was like the perfect storm, though. I had hit the peak of my desperation and then there she was.
“No,” she laughs, and I didn’t hear anything my father said to elicit that laugh. I love that they talk like this. That they have a relationship. That my father still calls her and that they keep up. Even if I hate it. Even if it makes me angry that my father keeps her a secret from me.
“She made me promise never to tell you anything about her or her life and I honor my promises,” he’d said when I asked him for some morsel of information on Lyric. Bastard. I’m his freaking son.
“I have the Rainbow Ball and after that we’ll see.”
Rainbow Ball? I’ve heard of that. It’s in New York and it raises money for various cancer research charities. It’s exclusive. A-list only.
Another laugh. “I’d love you to be my date, but I think that will have to wait until next year.”
My grin turns into a full smile. This girl…wow. She’s just…everything. Everything I threw away. Stupid life. If only one of us could get through unscathed. Without wanting to go back and fix everything we’ve done wrong.
Checking my smile at the door, I knock twice, just to give her the proper warning she deserves, the one I didn’t afford her last night, and then I enter. Lyric looks up with an apprehensive start and when she sees that it is, in fact me, she slowly rises. “I should get going,” she says, her eyes only on my father.
“Stay,” he says slowly, trying to reach out a hand to her and then one to me. But he’s not our olive branch. This is something only I can fix.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I’ll try to come again before I leave.” Lyric bends down and kisses his forehead, brushing some of his salt and pepper hair from his face. “Go easy on the nurses,” she teases. “Your looks and charm will only get you so far.”
My father gives her a lopsided smile and the moment Lyric rights her body and focuses on the doorway just beyond me, he gives me a look. A look that says, don’t let her get away. I return his look, except mine says, I’m on it. “I’ll walk you out.”
She shakes her head and adds, “I can manage.” She won’t even meet my eyes. She won’t even glance in my general direction.
I don’t give her the option, I turn on my heels and walk with her. Next to her. Close enough that it’s nearly impossible for her to ignore me. “Thank you for coming to see him,” I say and she nods. That’s it. “Come have coffee with me?”
“No.”
“Yes.” I spin to stand directly in front of her, stopping her in her tracks before we reach the elevator. “Yes. Because you’re here. You’re right in front of me and I can’t let you go back. Not without telling you everything.”
“It’s not going to change anything, Jameson. The past is what it is. There is no turning back.”
I nod, stepping into her and staring intently into her beautiful eyes, taking in the ever-changing pattern of green, brown, and gray. Oh, how I’ve missed these eyes. Missed every single thing about her. “You’re right. There is no turning back. I can’t change what I did or how things turned out for us. I can’t fix the past. But I’ve got all this future, Lee. All this future that could be our future.”
Lyric swallows hard, the sound audible and the sentiment heavy. The hospital is too busy. There are too many people around. I need quiet with Lyric. I need a moment that is just me and just her.
But before I can do anything about that, she says, “I need to go.” Her voice is weak and lacks conviction. Her pulse is thrumming at the base of her throat. Her breaths are coming out just a little shorter and faster. “Please, just let me go.” The heartbreak in her eyes stops me dead in my tracks. Fractures me into a million tiny pieces.
She pushes open the door to the stairwell, needing to run from me faster than the elevator will allow her to go. I watch her go, her head swiveling back over her shoulder to find me, to check if I’m following, before the door shuts behind her. This is the moment that I feel so helpless. So freaking lost as to what to do next.
Shit!
None of this is going as planned.
Do I follow her? Push her harder and faster than she might be ready for?
I honestly don’t know. There is no manual with this woman. It’s been four years without her, but the moment I saw her, sitting there in that restaurant, it was like no time had passed. Every single thing I’ve ever felt for her came rushing back to me like it was never gone in the first place. And it wasn’t. I’ve always held on to her. Was never able to let her go.
But now it’s back in the forefront of my mind.
All I know is that she came. She got on an airplane and flew across the country. For me. She might say it’s for closure, but she could have told me all of that on the phone. She could have called me and told me to fuck off then and there. But she didn’t. She came out here. And it has to be for more than to see my father. It has to.
Spinning around, I kick the wall, my frustration and indecision waging a war inside me. I need to find her. I need to talk to her. I need to do whatever it takes to show her that this time is different. I have no more time to waste.
Chapter 22
Jameson
* * *
I ask the nurses to inform my father that I have to leave. He’ll understand. He knows what I’m trying to do. I run down the stairs as fast as my legs will take me, but the moment I hit the main floor of the hospital, I realize I have no idea where Lyric parked, what car she’s driving—if she’s even driving—and it’s been more than five minutes since she walked away from me so she’s no doubt already gone.
I could try her phone, but I know she won’t pick up for me. Even if she did, I doubt she’d tell me how to find her. I could call her sister, Melody, but I know I’ve pushed my luck with her as far as it can go. Sprinting to the garage, I hit the clicker to unlock my car, the lights flashing as it makes that boop-boop sound. Slamming the door behind me, I blow out a heavy breath as I start it up with the push of a button. And then I freeze. Where are you, Lyric? Where did you go?
Maybe she went home? Seems like the most logical place, so that’s where I’ll start. Pulling out of the garage, I fly through town, my eyes searching everywhere while trying to focus on driving and not crashing my car or hitting a pedestrian. Ten minutes later, I’m rolling up to the gate of her house and pressing the buzzer. No answer. Not even their housekeeper. I get out, my car still idling as I peer through the heavy metal gate, trying to catch a glimpse of the house toward the back. It looks dark so I’m going to go with she’s not here. Or she’s hiding.
Shit. Motherfucking shit.
A growl passes my lips. Dammit, Lee. Where. Are. You?
Flipping the car around, I spend the next half an hour driving through town. Going every place I can possibly think of. Coffee shops. Random stores. Our old high school. The park near her house. The freaking ice cream shop. No Lyric to be found.
And then it hits me. Like a slap to the face. The beach at the yacht club. Our beach. The one I took her to when my father had his heart attack all those years ago. It’s the only place left that I can come up with.
When I pull up to the secluded spot, I realize I was right. A black Jaguar that must be her father’s is parked and when I look down to the shoreline, I see her sitting in the sand, her blonde hair whipping behind her in the breeze.
She came here. Of all the places she could have gone, she came here. To our spot.
Filled with a new surge of confidence that this is not over, I get out of the car and make my way down to the sand and over to her. If she hears me approaching she doesn’t let on. Even when I sink down next to her, she never averts her eyes from the choppy blue-gray water slapping against the rocky shore. The salty brine of the air is tinted with the sour note of seaweed that you only seem to get in New England.
“Not as nice, or as warm as California, I imagine.” It’s May, but that doesn’t mean it’s all that warm down here on the water. Lyric is wearing a long-sleeved shirt, but her arms are wrapped around her knees that are tucked into her chest, and her body is stiff, and I have to wonder if she’s cold. Shucking out of my leather jacket, I place it around her shoulders. “Better?”
She nods. That’s it. But I do notice her body relaxes.
“I’m sorry about Robert,” I start after a quiet pause of staring at the water. “I know how hard that must have been for you. I tried to get in touch with you after he died, but you’re not an easy lady to do that with.”
“Not when I don’t want to be found, no.” Touché, but wow that stings. “Thank you, though, for saying that, I mean. It was a very hard time.”
“You’re running it now, right? Turn Records?”
“Yes” she replies but doesn’t comment further on that.
“I know you’re still furious with me, and you have every right to be, but I’m glad you came. Not only to see my father, but because I asked you to.”
“I told you why I came.”
“And yet, you’re here at our beach.”
“I needed to think and the ocean always helps me do that.” But there are plenty of other beaches she could have gone to for that. Public beaches. As it is, we’re technically trespassing on private property. Luckily, my father is still a member of the yacht club so if anyone challenges us, I have a small card I can play.
“I hate that I thought you were with Ethan all this time. You have no idea the mind fuck that is.”
She snorts, the corner of her lips pulling up into a small reluctant grin. “And I’m sure you’ve been a monk these past four years. Chaste and virtuous.”
I nudge her with my shoulder. Unable to fight my grin, I glance away for a beat before turning back to her. She’s looking at me, and it’s the first time she’s really done that since last night at dinner when she told me she never wanted to see me again. But this look is entirely different than the one she gave me last night, or even an hour ago at the hospital.
“Most definitely. It’s a relief that we’ve been saving ourselves for each other all these years. Really helps with the whole jealousy thing I’ve been rocking all this time.”
She laughs and the sound makes my heart clench, my stomach dip and my cock thicken. All at once. From just that one small giggle.
I want to ask her if she’s missed me like I’ve missed her. If she’s thought about me the way I’ve thought about her. If she still loves me the way I love her. But I don’t. I may not be a lawyer, but I know better than to ask a question I don’t want the answer to.
Instead I move closer to her, my body gently brushing hers. She breathes in. Breathes out. Looks away but doesn’t move. The atmosphere shifts. The earth beneath our feet slips away. I’m touching her, not skin to skin, but it’s enough to feel her heat. To catch the scent of her perfume as the breeze carries it in my direction. For the mounting tension swirling around us to become electrified.
I reach over and cup her jaw, her eyes skirting everywhere else they can reach. Everywhere other than on me. But the moment I turn her face to mine, caressing her smooth warm skin, she finds me and she holds on. “Do you feel it?” I ask, my thumb skating up and down against her cheek. “This electricity between us that makes everything in our bodies feel awake and alive? This current tethering us together? It’s pulsing between us. It’s always there. Like an excited heartbeat. Constant. Steady. I’ve never felt this with anyone else and I know you haven’t either. We let time make us its fools. We let confusion and misunderstanding lead. We let stubborn pride direct us and now we’re here, four years later.”
She shakes her head violently, forcing my hand to fall. It does. I let my hand fall and I lean back. Her eyes narrow, harden. Anger seethes from her pores, coloring the air with a red haze. “We didn’t do all of those things,” she bites out. “You did. But really, it doesn’t matter. None of this matters. Sometimes things don’t work out. Sometimes two people aren’t meant to be together and life reminds them of that. You can’t tell me you regret the last four years?”
I shake my head, because how does she not get it? I can’t tell if this is just her defense mechanism or if she really believes the shit she’s spewing. I’m inclined to go with the former. Because there was no one before her and there hasn’t been anyone after. There never could be again. Not like her. Not anywhere close to what we had together.
Screw this. Getting up onto my knees in the sand, I shift so that I’m facing her full on, hovering over her and crowding that personal space she seems so determined to maintain. I lean in, placing my hands on either side of her body, bracketing her in so she has no choice but to see me. To hear me.
“Move back,” she hisses, but she doesn’t do much to try and get away. Doesn’t push me off or get up and move.
Ah, Lyric, it’s been four years, but your body hasn’t forgotten me.
I ignore her half-hearted plea. I have things to say and she needs to hear them. “I don’t regret these last four years. Professionally, I’ve gotten everything I’ve ever wanted out of them. I got my father’s company and merged it with the one Cane, Travers, and I created. We’ve made Fortune’s list of most profitable companies. We’re kicking ass and taking names. But none of it is complete, baby.”
She blinks slowly, her face only inches from mine as I tower over her, holding her captive without touching her. And all that fight she had in her moments ago is gone. It’s just her and it’s just me and we’re right back where we started all those years ago.
“I’ve had everything I could have wanted. Except you, Lee. I didn’t have you. I regret the last four years without you.”
Her face drops, her chin hitting her chest, unable to take the way those words feel. It hurts. And it feels good. And it hurts. It’s all those things for me. Everything with this woman hurts and yet feels so amazing that I’m willing to endure just about anything if it gets me this with her.
“Lyric Rose, I fucked up.” The magnitude of speaking the words out loud to her slams into me like an earthquake, shaking my very foundation. A piece of my soul slowly begins to release, like air leaking from a balloon. Only instead of deflating, I feel like I’m expanding. Like those are the words my body has been waiting for me to say. To let go of. “I fucked up so bad.” The wind howls past us, interrupting me, the tempera
ture dipping further as the sky becomes cloud-covered and angry. “Let’s get out of here. Please come with me so I can try and explain.”
“Tell me now,” she demands. “Tell me now, because I don’t want to walk anywhere. I don’t want to sit in a restaurant or a quaint little coffee shop or in your fucking car. I need you tell me and I need you to tell me now. But I need you to back off. I can’t think with you like this. Give me space and give me your words, and then be done with me.”
A humorless laugh passes my lips. “I’ll never be done with you.”
She’s staring me down, waiting for my move. Space. She wants space. So, I push off, out of the sand and away from her body and I sit back, dusting my hands off as I go and placing them on my thighs. “I’m sorry,” I start because those words are long overdue and I need to say them.
Her knees are back up, her arms wrapped around them, like that’s all that’s holding her together. But I don’t think that’s true. I think Lyric is as strong and self-possessed as she ever was. Maybe more so. She’s watching me. Patiently waiting for me to say something that will undo everything I’ve done and I just don’t have that for her. Sometimes we make mistakes that are so big they cannot be undone. They can only be learned from.
“We like to believe that we choose our lives, Lee. That we choose our path. But sometimes life, or maybe fate, steps in. It takes all of our best laid plans and flips them upside down and then runs away like a small child, leaving us to try and navigate through the mess they left us with. I had plans for you, Lyric Rose. I had so many plans for us. And then life stepped in and things got so fucking complicated. I was trying to make everyone happy and I was failing. Especially with you,” I point at her as I attempt to tell her everything I’ve had in my head for the last four years. “I knew you were unhappy. I knew I was the cause of it. I was continually letting you down. Believe me when I tell you that there are few things in this world that are worse than knowing you’re letting the woman you love down. But I didn’t know how to change that. How to fix it. There just weren’t enough hours in the day. I genuinely believed if we just took a step back, if you didn’t have the expectations of a girlfriend, then I wouldn’t hurt you so much. That I could buy more time to get control of things.”