David rolled his eyes. “I need to get ready for work.”
The kitchen felt empty without my friend’s overwhelming personality taking up the space and it didn’t take long for things to feel awkward between Scott and me.
“Thanks for that, Scott.”
“It’s not like I had a choice.”
“Yes, you did.” I reached out but didn’t want to touch his hand, fearful that my fingers would bring fresh pain to the open wounds, so I instead ran them along his wrist. “You didn’t have to do any of that…so thank you.”
He was quiet, his eyes on my fingers. “This doesn’t change anything, Casey.” There was nothing for me to say and, even though his words hurt worse than Barry’s hands on my arm had, I understood. Nodding my head, I forced the tears back.
“I guess I should leave.”
And I did. Without another word.
* * *
How do you move on when everything has completely changed in your life? How do you stop yourself from crying when it begins to feel like that was what your body was meant to do?
After shutting myself in my old bedroom at my parents’ house for two days straight, I ate a solid lunch at my mother’s behest, more than I’d eaten in a week, and decided to get my shit together. Life would go on as it always did. I just had to stop thinking about Scott and pour my pain into my art—because that was my future.
Two weeks later, I felt a little stronger in some regards. In many others, I felt liberated. Even though Scott and I were through, I would forever be grateful in that he helped me stand up to Barry.
As I was leaving Sens Gallery one afternoon, trying not to be giddy that Isabel had snatched up every damn thing I’d given her, I felt my phone buzz in my jeans pocket. My breath evaporated as I saw I had a text from Scott.
Do you have some time to talk soon?
As if my lungs had been deprived of air, I took a deep breath and got in the car. Did I dare let myself feel hopeful?
Sure. When and where?
I sat in the car, my heart thudding in my chest, and I put the keys in the ignition so I could roll the windows down and let the heat out. I stared at my damn phone forever, waiting for his reply.
I get off work at four. So how about my place say around five?
I didn’t want to seem too eager or desperate, but my thumbs were faster than my sense of reason. See you then.
* * *
I’d been ready for hours, but I wasn’t going to go to Scott’s house earlier than he’d asked, much as I wanted to. I’d told myself I could use the excuse that I wanted to see David, but I was making the effort to be more honest in every aspect of my life.
If I arrived at Scott’s early, it was because I was hopeful. Excited even. And I wasn’t willing to give that away. So I drove around town until it was almost five and then parked in front of his house.
I hadn’t been here since the day Barry had tried to snatch me, so I had a feeling of vulnerability wash over me. I noticed Scott’s truck wasn’t there yet, but I also supposed that didn’t mean he wasn’t there. So I got out of the car, glancing at the sidewalk, almost surprised to see that it didn’t look different at all, and I walked to the front of the house and rang the doorbell.
Of course, there was no answer.
I decided to wait. I could have sent a text, but I instead decided to be patient. The last time I’d felt like he stood me up, he’d had a flat tire—so I was going to trust. I sat on the step of his front door and tried to be calm. If I were still smoking, I would have lit one up. Instead, I was able to smell the freshly mowed lawn next door, probably one of the last times that year. The scent was light but fragrant in the cooling air.
A few minutes later, Scott’s truck pulled up in the driveway. As he got out, my heartbeat picked up its pace. He’d always looked good in Bob’s white t-shirt, blue jeans uniform. “Been waiting long?”
“No.” The way my nerves felt, though, I’d have thought I’d been there for hours.
“Sorry about that. I had to cover for the new guy. I don’t think he’ll ever get to work on time.” I stood up as Scott found his house key on the ring. “Do you mind if I clean up a little?”
“Not at all. Do you care if I wait out here?”
“Go ahead. I’ll be back in a couple minutes.”
I leaned back against the step, once more drinking in the peaceful outdoors. When I’d lived in Winchester as a kid, I hadn’t appreciated how close we were to nature. In Denver, I’d been able to see the peaks of the Front Range, but they’d always seemed so far away. Now I was actually living in a mountainous environment, up close and personal, and failing to appreciate it. Instead of my life with Barry in the city, I enjoyed a small town where I could, anytime I chose, drive for ten to fifteen minutes and find myself surrounded by forest.
I inhaled deeply, trying to relax and not worry about anything, even the impending conversation. As I took in one comforting breath after another, I realized I felt better than I had in months. Even if Scott and I didn’t resolve anything, I felt more at peace with myself.
That was more important than anything else, and it was probably about time.
I was Casey Williams, survivor.
Scott came out as promised just a few minutes later, sitting next to me on the step.
“Sorry you had to deal with my psycho ex.”
His dark green eyes examined mine, and I wondered what he was thinking. “I got the feeling you’d seen him like that a million times before.”
I let out a long breath. “Yeah. But that time in my life is completely over.” And I knew it was. Barry hadn’t called once—not me or my parents—since that day. I reached over a tentative hand and touched the top of his. “I also wanted to apologize for leaving. I know I hurt you when I left, and I hurt you even more when I told you why. And I’m really sorry. I never meant to cause you any pain.”
“Don’t worry about it.” The way he tried to be cool and calm, pretending like it hadn’t bothered him, bruised my heart in a way I wouldn’t have thought possible. I squeezed the top of his hand, hoping he could feel what I needed him to, because I couldn’t find any words in my head that didn’t sound lame as hell.
We were quiet for a while as he turned his hand over to take mine in his, and I wondered if maybe that was a sign of forgiveness. I swallowed the saliva pooling in my mouth. “What were you wanting to talk about?”
He looked up at me from our hands. “I wanted to thank you.”
“Thank me? For what?”
The remnant of a smile that didn’t know how to cover his face appeared, never making it to his eyes. “Pain and Agony has a meeting with a label next week.”
“A record label?”
“Yeah.”
“So why are you thanking me?”
“Because you convinced me it was the thing to do. You know, get out of my own skin and do it. My band wants to thank you.”
A small smile appeared on my face. “No, it’s all you.” I dared to put a finger on his chest, emphasizing that the credit was not mine. “Can I tell you something?” I forced myself to look up into his eyes from my finger.
I couldn’t read him through those green orbs, but his voice sounded cautious. “Sure.”
I bit my lip, so afraid to say the words that needed to come out. Really, they were the only words that even mattered but that made them feel all the heavier on my tongue. Fear also weighed me down, because I had no idea how he would respond. But it was the only thing left for me to say and I could close this door after spitting it out if I needed to. “I love you.”
His eyes softened then and I saw him swallow. “What did you say?”
“I love you, Scott.” He didn’t respond, but it was too late. I’d broken the dam and it was all going to gush out. “I’ve never loved anyone, never will love anyone, like I love you. It was fucking stupid to not tell you before. And I understand if we’re still through, but…” My mouth froze with the feeling that maybe I’d gone too
far.
Jesus fucking Christ. What was he thinking?
He put his arms around my shoulders and pulled me close, but he still didn’t say anything. Without seeing his face, I had no idea what his thoughts were. His body up against mine felt right but I had no visual confirmation. I couldn’t see his expression and he hadn’t said a word. Inside, I could feel a tsunami brewing as I wondered if I was on the verge of bursting with laughter or tears.
When he pulled away enough to sear me with his eyes, he examined my every feature. “You’re not just saying that, are you?”
“No. I mean it. I love you. And I was stupid not telling you everything. I know that now. I was just…afraid.”
As I fought back tears, he brushed my cheek with his knuckles. “Casey, there’s no turning back. If you love me—if you’re going to commit to me—then I expect you to do it all the way. No more running off, no more keeping secrets from me.” I couldn’t speak, just nodded, waiting for what he’d say next. His voice tender, he whispered, “I love you, too, Casey.” I kissed him then, letting myself drown in overwhelming emotion.
He took one of my hands in his again and kept his eyes focused on them. “Look…I don’t want you to be scared anymore. I don’t want us to be stupid anymore, either.” He looked in my eyes then. “You know David’s gonna move in with Gerald, right? Well, I was thinking maybe, maybe…we could, uh, start over, but…” He took a deep breath. “Maybe we could…try something different.” Holy shit. There was no mistaking he was nervous as hell, and I squeezed his hand, hoping to remove some of his anxiety, because I’d never seen Scott tongue-tied like this. “I don’t know what you’re comfortable with. I just… I’ve been fucked over in the past when I thought someone loved me, and I don’t want that to happen again. I just need to know this is for real.”
“Scott, this is real.” I touched his stubbly cheek with my free hand. “But are you asking what I think you’re asking?”
His eyes sparkled. “What if I am?”
I grinned, feeling a sense of déjà vu. “Because if you’re not, I guess I’m going to have to think of something else to say. But if you’re asking me to move in with you, I just might have to kiss you.”
To that, his whole face beamed. “Then kiss me.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice. My lips touched his and, as he responded, I felt his complete forgiveness and love wash over me. Everything was all right. Actually, no. It was more than all right.
It was perfect.
“Yes. Yes, I will.” I gave him a tiny peck on the lips. “I promise I will be completely honest with you from now on. Forever.”
I gazed in his eyes and I could almost see the forever I was dreaming of, many good years together, maybe even full of children and grandchildren, but definitely full of happiness and more than I could even imagine. “If I move in with all my shit, though, you’ll probably want to use David’s old room to store your drums.”
“Yeah, but you’ll need room for your artwork, too. How about we split it?”
“Deal,” I said, holding out my hand to shake. Laughing, he grabbed it and then pulled me into an affirming kiss. It was a kiss that said forever, and that was all I needed to know.
* * *
Scott’s kiss was sizzling and I let my fingers wind through his hair when we heard a knock on the door. “Five minutes.”
Letting go of my lips, Scott sighed. “Fuck.”
I squeezed his ass, relishing the feel of leather. “We’ll just have to resume this later.”
He took a deep breath through his nostrils but then nuzzled my neck. “I don’t know how the fuck I let you talk me into this.”
“Into what?”
“Recording an album.”
“And it’s, like, the best fucking album ever. You guys needed to be heard by the world.”
“Yeah, but now I have this fucking tour…”
“And they love you.”
He lifted his head, touching his forehead to mine. “And you’re here, just like you promised.”
“Exactly.”
There was another rap at the door. Scott sighed and shook his head, letting go of me and walking across the dressing room. When he opened the door, Lee and Dom stood at the door. “You ready?”
“Norm just said five minutes.”
“Close enough.”
Dom looked at the fresh ink on Scott’s forearm, the tattoo he’d had done based on my artwork in the show last fall. It was a pair of lips shaped like mine with two pairs of Xs and Os being blown from them. “Think you could draw me something, Case?”
Lee grinned. “I think she should come up with a better band logo than the studio did for us. ‘N then we could all get it tattooed on our backs.”
“You know this tattoo was like the tamest thing my girl’s ever done, right?”
“Yeah, I’ve seen her far-out stuff. But you know what? I trust her to do us right.”
“Let’s go, guys.”
As Lee and Dom left the room, Scott squeezed my hand. “Yeah, I think I trust you, too.”
“You think?”
Laughing, he took my hand and led me down the hallway of this new venue, heading toward the stage. “I know. Just be with me forever, and I can do anything.”
Indeed. And so could I. I emblazoned this moment on my mind in the crowded space of our happy forever.
THE END
Thank you for reading Scott and Casey’s story. I hope you loved it! The next book in the series is Love and Lust. Does Samantha risk everything’s she’s fought for just for one night with Ryan?
CLICK HERE TO READ LOVE AND LUST NOW >
No Place Like Home
I know that cancer touches all our lives in some way. Recently, it affected two friends near and dear to me, and this story is dedicated to them: Gwendolyn K., whose brave confrontation and no-nonsense determination speaks volumes about her character, and Donna C., a selfless giver in the book world, whose brother was recently diagnosed with inoperable cancer.
Finally, I also dedicate this story to John P., an awesome guy who flipped the bird to the C word several years ago! Way to go!
Dear Reader: This is a short story that can be read on its own but would definitely be enjoyed more if you’ve read my Bullet series.
Last but not least…this novella appeared as part of the Nuts about You anthology released for a limited time in 2017 to raise money for and awareness of testicular cancer. This is the first time it has appeared since.
“Daddy?” The tiny voice of the two-year-old outside the door pulled Brad Payne from his innermost thoughts. He’d been standing in front of the bathroom mirror for far too long, just staring, staring.
He’d often considered himself a lucky man. The frontman of a well-known and successful heavy metal band, he’d married the woman of his dreams; his best friend, a guy he considered his brother, had continued to be clean and sober for several years; he had three beautiful children—one by marriage and two that were his own.
Things couldn’t have been better for him.
Until they weren’t.
December was the last time Brad could remember feeling truly happy, alive…grateful. His wife Valerie had been finishing up her second trimester and doing well. She’d seemed a little more emotional with this pregnancy than when she’d carried their daughter a couple of years ago, but Brad took that in stride. It was part of the territory.
But it was then that he and his little family had made a trip over the Rocky Mountains to the Western slope of Colorado to visit his mom in his little hometown. They’d spent a few days with her between Christmas and New Year’s, and it was before the visit was over that she’d delivered to her youngest son some bad news.
The worst news he could have ever imagined.
She had cancer.
But she was hopeful. She tried to smile and joke around, but the fact that she’d waited till after they’d celebrated Christmas told him she looked upon it as an unmovable mountain rather than a small h
ill to climb over. Brad, of course, had asked dozens of questions. After years of putting it off, Barb had had a mammogram and the results weren’t pretty. She’d patted his hand before telling him the biopsy was scheduled for the next day, acting once more like it was no big deal—and, no, she didn’t need Brad there. His brother and his brother’s girlfriend were flying in the next morning, and she’d have her oldest son take her to her appointments.
Brad had bit his tongue, wanting to scream, Mom! You’re a nurse. How the hell could you let this happen? There was nothing new about her behavior, though. She’d played the part of sacrificing mother all her adult life, putting off her needs for her kids—and, apparently, even after the kids had left the nest, she continued to not worry about herself.
Instead of chiding her, he felt himself quietly moving through the stages of grief inside but kept wearing a happy face for his wife, children, and friends.
During the next Skype session with his mom, she informed Brad that the biopsy had revealed malignancies. And at this point, she’d already had a full mastectomy on both breasts and would soon be undergoing further treatments.
Except the cancer had spread far and deep…and they hadn’t known it then.
And Brad and family went back over to his hometown to be with his mother. In a matter of weeks, he watched as her health declined. All of a sudden, his mother, a woman barely in her fifties, looked old.
And sick.
It happened all too fast.
And then she was gone. He buried her in March, just a few days after his birthday. It had almost been like she’d held on for that last moment.
In this day and age, Brad screamed inside, full of more anger than he’d ever experienced in his life, how the fuck could this happen? How could a woman—a health professional, no less—go from lively and alive to dead and buried in all but a season? How did that happen?
Val had been in her last trimester then and due the next month. Yes, he mourned—even publicly at the funeral—but he knew he was expected to pull his shit together. After all, he was a father and the leader of his band, the one that would be putting together a new album in the fall. Hell, he wasn’t the leader; he was the glue. Nothing happened without him.
Dirty Boys: Bad Boy Rock Star Romance Box Set Page 114