by Wynne Roman
“And what was that?”
“First, to see if my feelings for you were real. And find out if you could feel the same way about me.”
I close my eyes and tighten my fingers over her shoulder. Goddamn. I so should have left this girl alone.
“And you know what I found out?”
“What?” My voice is hoarse.
“Happy endings are possible. I really do love you. Not as a friend. Not as my brother’s friend. Not even as a rock star. I love Ajia Stone, the man who makes me feel wonderful and amazing things. The man who does wicked things to my body. The man who takes care of me, even when I think I don’t need it. The man who makes every day better by just being here with me.”
“Baby.” I wrap my arms around her and fold her against my chest. “I’m not that man. I’m not that good. I’m a selfish bastard. Can’t you see that?”
“I see that you want to believe it. That you’ve tried hard to convince yourself and everybody else. But you’re wrong.”
“An innocent girl died. I let her take the blame for my mistakes!”
Bree snuggles against my chest, kisses me there. “She wasn’t innocent, A. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. She got drunk, even knowing she was supposed to be driving. She messed around and distracted you when you were trying to get her and your friends home safe. And you did try to set it right. Nobody wanted to hear it—for whatever reason. You’re all collateral damage of each other’s decisions, so let it go. There’s a reason for it. We might never understand what that is. All you can be sure of is that you’re here doing what you’re supposed to.”
“So you’re saying that God wrecked some lives so I could have this one?”
“No. I’m saying that maybe you couldn’t save those lives in the way you thought you should, but maybe you’re touching other lives. Helping others get through a hard time. People listen to your songs, and it gives them a reason to go on. A reason to hope.”
“I’m not that guy,” I insist. “I still drink. A lot sometimes. And until you, I fucked random girls who meant nothing to me. Girls whose name I never even wanted to know. A good guy doesn’t do shit like that.”
“No? Well, maybe a good guy who’s trying to prove to the world that he isn’t so good does. A guy who thinks he’s a piece of shit and wants to prove it to anybody who looks his way. A guy who’s torn between being self-destructive and wanting to succeed for the benefit of others.”
I’m all breathless again. “Jesus, Bree. How can you see that shit in me? You make me sound so much better than I really am.”
“And you make yourself sound so much worse. What would change if everybody blamed you instead of Lara?”
“What do you mean?”
“If they believed you. You already said it. Lara’d still be dead, Mason’d be in pain and hooked on pills, and Jill would still have a traumatic brain injury. No different, except that everybody would know you were driving and trying to get the others home safe. You would have still tried to do the right thing, and it would still be an accident.”
My heart beats fast and irregular. Bree’s saying shit I want to hear. Things I want to believe. But it’s just not possible—is it?
No. I didn’t want any of that stuff to happen to people I cared about. Jesus, no! I want to change it, fix it, take the pain myself so the others don’t have to feel it. Except…no matter what I do, all of our realities remain the same.
And that’s supposed to be okay?
I close my eyes and let my head fall forward until my forehead meets Bree’s. She settles her hands at my waist and sits unmoving. Somehow, in that moment, I know we’re connected, and she’s letting me try to make sense of everything she said. Of all the hopes and fears that have haunted me for so long.
I don’t know how long we stay that way. Long enough that my thoughts settle into something like a ragged prayer set on repeat.
What if she’s right? Could she be right? What if she’s right?
Finally, Bree moves. She leans into me, and then her lips find mine. Her kiss is gentle and caring. It’s like she feels the same about me, no matter what I said, what I’ve done.
“Ajia. Baby. Listen to me.” She kisses me again. “I love you, and you know that. This isn’t the first time I’ve said it. But I mean it more now than I ever have.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” I reach for the back of her neck, to pull her closer, but she shakes her head and slides off my lap.
“You don’t know how bad I want to stay here. Hold you, make love with you, take your mind off everything except us. But as much as I want that, you need time alone.”
“Time?” I blink and look at her, wearing my T-shirt and her hair falling all around her shoulders. “You sure you don’t need some time? Away from me.”
“For what?” She smiles softly. “To think about how much I love you? No, baby.” She shakes her head. “This was…hard. Knox was an ass, and what you told me wasn’t easy. I know that. So maybe you need to, you know, work it all out in your head.”
She’s probably right. Hell, a part of me knows just how fucking right she is. But I don’t like it, one damn bit.
“What if you wake up in the morning and change your mind?” I fucking hate the question.
“About what?”
“Me.”
Her laugh is easy and pure. “Oh, A. I haven’t changed my mind in five fucking years, even when I knew you were with other girls. When I saw you with other girls. Haven’t you figured out yet that, as long as you want me, you’re stuck with me?”
I don’t know how to answer that. How can she—my Bree—make me feel all healed and put together when I’ve just told her all the worst of my fucked-up sins?
She kisses me, quick and hard. “Sleep, baby. Think. Do whatever you need to put this in the past where it belongs. I’ll be here for you when you’re ready.”
And in an instant, she’s gone.
CHAPTER 23
BREE
I don’t sleep very well after I get back to my room. It’s not just because I’m alone, or because I miss Ajia’s hard, warm body next to me. That’s true, even after only a couple of days. More than that, I keep thinking about everything Ajia told me about himself and his past.
What happened to him breaks my heart. Worse, it hurts that he sees himself in such a fucked-up way. I can’t defend it—at all; he made mistakes. So did Lara, Mason, and Jill. But Ajia isn’t the only bad guy in this. He’s let his guilt and grief twist the way he sees himself, but how do I get him to see that?
He’s been fighting to be heard for a long time, and nobody’s listening.
The sun’s bright in the room when I finally wake up. I lie in bed, thinking about Ajia, all the things he said and what else I know about his past. He grew up in a small town in the Texas Hill Country, moved to Austin after high school, and met Knox at a concert a couple of months later. They hit it off, and Wycked Obsession was born a few months later.
As far as I’ve always known, Ajia had just turned nineteen and never looked back.
Now I know that isn’t true. I don’t know how often he lets himself remember the shit that happened, but he’s lived with it in his head all the same. He’s been running from it with every decision he’d made.
Just like me.
The thought sneaks into my brain like a drifting fog. It swirls around me, and then it deepens, sharpens, and it’s there.
I’ve run from what Gabe tried to do, hidden it from my mom, and tried to pretend it wasn’t important. It didn’t matter enough—I didn’t matter enough—to open up and tell the truth.
I can’t hide anymore from what I’ve been doing. I can’t keep this secret and let it do to me the kinds of things that Ajia’s secrets did to him. He carried that pain for a long time, did hurtful, self-destructive things to punish himself. I don’t want to ruin what we might have by doing the same thing.
I have to tell my mom the truth about Gabe.
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I hate knowing that. Hate that I have to be the one. Hate it worse than anything I’ve ever done in my life. And yet, how can I let my mom stay in a marriage without at least trying to be honest about what happened?
I remember what I told Ajia that night in Austin.
There are two outcomes if I say anything. One is that she doesn’t believe me and it ruins our relationship. Two is that she believes me and it ruins her marriage. Either way, she loses, and I won’t be a part of it.
That wasn’t the only time I said something like that—and I believed it then, with all my heart. A part of me still believes it. But the rest of me understands the cost. I’m letting Mom live a lie that can come back and tear her life apart at any fucking moment. Who knows what—or who—Gabe is doing?
Clearer than anything else, Ajia’s truth shows me the reality of what my silence could produce. Keeping secrets has torn him to shreds, taunted him into promiscuous and self-destructive behavior, and ruined his self-image. I can’t give Gabe Richmond the power to do that to me—or be the trigger waiting to explode his marriage to my mom and devastate her again.
I squirm under the light bedcovers. This new awareness makes me a little excited and a lot anxious. I want to run down to Ajia’s room and talk it over with him, explain my new understanding, thank him for his part in it.
But—no. He has enough to deal with right now. I’m the one who told him to work it out on his own. Figure out how to put the past behind him. I need to do the same for myself.
If I’m the adult I claim to be, then I have to do this all on my own.
Before I lose my nerve.
I glance at the bedside clock. Eight a.m. That makes it ten in Austin. It’s been easy to text Mom whenever the mood strikes, but we video chat only when she’s on her lunch hour. I never call when she’s home with Gabe.
But—telling her this kind of thing when she’s at work? My stomach revolts. It seems selfish. Even cruel. But isn’t it worse to let her go on living and believing a lie?
Maybe I should talk to Knox. He—
I cut off the thought and shoot straight up in bed. No. “Fuck, no.” I say it aloud, just to hear the words.
I am not talking to my brother. Not about Mom, about Ajia—nothing. He was a rude, egotistical asshole to do what he did. Ajia is supposed to be his best friend, and Knox threw him under the bus for the sake of being a jerk. To get his own way. To prove some fucking point that doesn’t exist.
Nope. Knox gets nothing from me. Not until he apologizes and makes things right with Ajia.
So…I’m on my own.
I crawl out of bed and head to the shower. Seems like the safest way to start the day—until I’m naked under the steamy hot water. Soaping my body reminds me of Ajia’s hands and mouth as he learned and relearned every inch of me last night. He stuck to his word and wouldn’t give me what I really wanted—him inside of me—but his magical hands and mouth gave me orgasms that defy description.
My core tightens just thinking about it.
God, I want him again. All of him. I want to hold him, prove that his old ideas are screwed up, and that he’s the best thing in my life.
But first, I have to clean up my own mess.
I wrap up my hair, towel dry, and head straight for my phone. No more hesitating.
Me: Free on UR lunch hour?
Mom: Sure, sweetie. You want to talk?
Me: Yeah. Important.
Mom: Private?
Me: Definitely!
Mom: OK! Call me at 12:10 my time.
I send her a thumbs up emoji and throw my phone on the bed like it’s a snake or something. And maybe it is. God. I have to do this. For Mom, for me, for everything. If I want Ajia to get over his past, then I have to show him that I can do the same.
Now all I have to do is wait. Two hours, give or take—and then?
It all changes.
“Hi, sweetie!”
My mom’s face pops up on my phone. Calling—or video chatting—is a really shitty way to do what I have to do, and I know it. I should have handled things so differently, but I didn’t, and now waiting is even worse. I have to step up and own it all.
“Hey, Mom.”
“You look good, sweetie! Things going okay?”
I nod and try to smile. “The label had a big party for the band yesterday. It was really fancy. We all went.”
Mom smiles. It’s like looking at myself in twenty-five years. Well, fifteen, maybe, because she looks at least ten years younger than she actually is. I hope I inherit that part of her genes, as well.
“You brother told me,” she’s saying.
“You talked to Knox?”
“He called. He said there’s been some gossip—tabloid stuff—and since it’s all lies, I should just ignore it.”
“That’s…good.”
She shakes her head and wrinkles her nose like something smells bad. “I never expected that when my son got famous, people would makeup stories about him and his friends. What’s wrong with them? I’ve learned to completely avoid those gossip sites and stuff on TV. Knox says it’s part of the price of fame, but I think those awful people should be sued!”
I can’t help smiling. She’s been saying that since the first time Wycked Obsession made the tabloid news. I can’t remember what the story was; probably drinking or partying or girls. Knox got Baz to try and explain to her that most of the time it wasn’t worth following up, especially if there was any grain of truth to it, but she hated that answer.
“I think they’re getting a new PR person,” I say to make her happy. “That might help. They might not be any more into suing, but they know how to turn the rumors around and put other stuff out. Positive stuff.”
I have no idea if that’s true. For all I know, they’ll just replace the gossip with other information, direct attention wherever they want it, like those sexy pictures from the photo shoot. But I don’t want to say anything like that. Not now.
Mom’s too smart for me. She gives me a half-smile. “That sounds good, but I know better. Knox already warned me that there are some risqué shots of the boys coming.”
I try to laugh it off. The boys. She always calls the members of Wycked Obsession boys. Does she have any idea of how wrong she is?
“Yeah, I saw a few,” I admit. “They’re pretty sexy. It’s kinda…weird.”
“So, sweetie, what did you want to talk about? You said it was important.”
My heart pounds suddenly, and the air races out of my lungs. Mom doesn’t usually put off the big stuff. I thought I had psyched myself up for this, but now I’m not so sure. Can I do this? Say the things I need to say? I swallow and close my eyes, trying to ignore the tears that prickle behind my eyelids.
“Bree? Honey, what is it?” The concern in Mom’s voice pulls my eyes open. “You can tell me anything. You know that.”
Yeah, I suppose I do. Knox, Mom, and I became a pretty tight team after Dad left, but then life kind of weakened the bond a little bit. Stuff like Wycked Obsession’s success, the demands of my college education, and Mom’s new relationship with Gabe. We all let outside concerns occupy our attention.
Now, though, I’m forcing things to change again. We should have never let go of the closeness. And this is too important to let anything get in the way. Not embarrassment, uncertainty, or even fear. This will make or break us as a family.
I swallow it all back. I’ve been running from the truth about my stepfather for too long. Hiding behind the rigors of life on the road. Behind testing my feelings for Ajia. Behind anything that will keep me from thinking about Gabe.
And then Ajia’s truths last night reminded me again why running is never the answer.
“Uh…well, you know I had my reasons for going on tour with Knox.” I only say my brother’s name. He’s the only one Mom is really interested in.
“Yes.” She looks confused, but her nod is encouraging enough. “Knox said it wo
uld be good for your degree. First-hand experience with a rock band on tour.”
I let out a ragged breath. That had been the excuse he’d used when he first told Mom I was going along, and we’ve stuck to it since then.
“Yeah. That’s part of it. But there’s another reason.”
“What?” She sounds so normal. So trusting.
Oh, fuck. My shoulders tingle, sensation races over my nerve endings, and my stomach feels wide and empty. It’s like I’m going to get sick—and maybe I am.
“Mom…I left because…I was having trouble with Gabe.”
She blinks. Frowns. “What kind of trouble?”
“He…” I take another breath, this one ragged and thin. “He was—touching me.”
The line goes silent, and I can’t bring myself to do anything except stare at my mom. Her face is blank. Eerily so.
She’s quiet for probably ten seconds, but it seems like an hour. Finally, I see her swallow and she says, “What do you mean?” Her voice is hoarse.
“He would try to touch me when we were alone.” It’s only slightly easier to say the second time. “My back, my waist, my butt. He’d put his arms around me and tried to kiss me a couple of times. Knox caught him once and wanted to do something, but I talked him out of it. I thought it would stop.”
“But it didn’t.” Her voice is stronger than I would have expected. Her tone doesn’t sound like she’s asking.
“No. That day you came home and he was in my bedroom, I had fallen asleep listening to the new album. When I woke up, Gabe was in the room. He…had his hands under my shirt and was touching my breasts.” I close my eyes but then force myself to look at her again. “I got away from him, but I was so glad when you came home right after that.”
Her expression remains blank and awful. “You went to Knox that night.”
I nod. “I told him what happened.” I decide against sharing the fact that the whole freaking band knows about it. “We decided I’d go on tour with him. It would be…easier. Safer.”