Miles Apart (The Not So Bad Boys of Rock Book 2)

by Rhonda James

  I scrolled through the photos in the album labeled Honey, and found the one I had been looking for, the one that called to me, beckoning me to her, the one that had been so ingrained in my memory that I didn’t even need to see it physically, but still I looked at it. Stared at it. Touched it. Absorbed it. Loved it.

  It was a photo of us, taken on our last night together on the beach, back when she first visited. She was on my back, and we were laughing, her chin tucked closely into my neck, love in her eyes. She was beautiful. We were in love then and didn’t even fully realize how to pursue a long distance relationship, or if it would even work, but we had somehow made it happen. The ache in my chest returned, I ground the heel of my hand deep against it, trying like hell to rub it away, but it was no use. It wasn’t the kind of pain that could be physically touched or wiped away. This pain stemmed from a loss that had cut so deep I wasn’t even sure it could be removed, or if I even wanted it gone. This pain may have hurt, but it was the only physical reminder I had of her, the only tangible thing I had left to prove that our love had even existed.

  From the moment I met her I had been drawn to her, like a powerful magnet, unable to pull away, not that I wanted to. She consumed me. My thoughts. My dreams. My hopes. My music. My entire world belonged to her. And without her next to me, it felt pointless to keep going. I threw my phone, letting it hit the wall and leaving a dent before it fell to the floor. My gaze shifted over to the table in the corner of the next room, more specifically, to the bottle that sat in the middle of it, unopened and beckoning me over. An empty glass sat beside it, waiting. I had placed them both there last night, intending to give myself over to the emptiness. Without Brooke, I had nothing left to live for.

  I stood and made my way over to the table, unable to resist the draw any longer. I cracked open the bottle. The smell permeated my nostrils immediately, reminding me how long it had been since my last drink. I poured off a shot and held it out in front of me, swirling it around and watching as the light reflected off the amber liquid within the heavy tumbler. I held the glass to my lips, staring into the bottom for a few moments, trying to remember the taste of its contents, and the burn that followed. I closed my eyes, prepared myself to throw back my head, and saw her face. I saw the way her blue eyes sparkled when she smiled. Saw the way the color flushed her cheeks when she got embarrassed. The way her lips parted right before she kissed me. I squeezed them tighter, trying to shut out the happiest memories of my life before I gave in and made it disappear, if only for today. If I couldn’t have her in my life, then I didn’t want to keep living.

  RING! RING! RING! The sound of the phone startled me, causing me to drop the glass. Contents gushed out over the table before me. I ignored it, not ready to allow anyone else into my world of misery. For a moment it stops, silence returns to the space around me, and I’m faced with a decision. Do I pour another glass? Just then, the phone rings again, and I slowly rise out of the chair and make my way over to where it lies on the floor. I pick it up and turn it over, half expecting it to be Travis or Dek reminding me of our rehearsal time, but it’s neither of them. In fact, it’s the last person I would have expected, but the only one I want to talk to right now. The only voice I ever long to hear. I swipe a finger across the screen and hold the phone to my ear, unaware that I have stopped breathing.

  “Sebastian…”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Brooke~

  "Sebastian? Are you there? Hello?" I asked quietly, only hearing silence in return. I knew that he was on the other end. I could hear him breathing, ever so shallowly. Finally, he acknowledged me.

  "Hi." He answered, softly. He sounded tired, and withdrawn. My heart ached at the lonely sound of his voice.

  "Hi? Is that all I get after all this time? No it's great to hear your voice or I sure have missed you?" I asked, teasingly. I wasn't quite sure what I was going to say, but I was certain that this hadn't been how I'd rehearsed it in my head.

  "Wow. It sure is great to hear your voice. Honestly, I never thought I'd hear from you again. To what do I owe this pleasure." He replied, rather sarcastically. Okay, I had that one coming.

  "Don't be like that. I've missed you. I thought maybe we could talk about things between us." I whispered.

  "Dammit, Brooke, I don't really feel like having the same argument with you over the phone. We never seem to get anywhere." He groaned. I could practically hear him pacing, and I fought hard to keep myself from chuckling. I didn't want him to hear me. "And why are you talking so softly? I can barely hear you."

  "Then why don't you open the door and we can have this conversation in person?"

  "What? Where are you?" I knocked once on the door. "You're here? At the hotel?" He opened the door with the phone still up to his ear.

  "Yeah. I wanted to see you." I replied, still talking into the phone. His tongue played against his cheek as he ran a hand through his morning hair. The very sight of him still took my breath away. He looked me up and down before his eyes settled on the sweatshirt I was wearing. A slow smile turned up his kissable lips and I had the sudden selfish urge to throw myself at him.

  "That's cool. I've been wanting to see you too. Nice shirt." He replied, casually, setting his phone aside before reaching out to take mine.

  “Thanks. Someone special gave it to me.” I smiled, warmly. He closed the door behind me and I glanced around the room. A bottle of whiskey sat in the center of the table, broken glass and a pool of liquid surrounded it. That must have been the crash that I'd heard through the door. His eyes followed mine and he quickly went over, grabbing a towel from the kitchen island to clean up the mess.

  "Am I interrupting anything?" I asked, casually. Fear shot through me that this division between us had sent him back to drinking. My eyes pleaded with him, silently.

  "No." He paused mid-wipe. "Just dealing with some old demons. How about you? What have you been up to?" He went back to mopping the table and then poured the bottle down the drain. I let out a quiet sigh of relief.

  "Oh, dealing with a few demons of my own." I sat on the nearest sofa and patted the space next to me. He stared blankly for a moment before moving forward. "I saw my father. I mentioned that to you the last time we were together. Do you remember that?"

  "Yeah." He sat down, eyeing me carefully, as if I may strike out at any given moment. "How did that go?"

  "Not so well the first time around. But, after running back to Michigan I did a lot of thinking, about us. About why I'd gotten so angry with you. I realized that I needed to find my mother and ask her why she'd made the choices she did. Why she'd placed her career before her family. Do you know what I discovered?"

  He shook his head, no, and leaned forward to listen.

  "She and my father are re-married, and living in Michigan." His eyes grew larger and I continued. "Yeah, I know, right?" I laughed, shaking my head in disbelief as well. "Turns out they'd gotten back together last year but didn't get married until Mom closed her law practice. They both were very remorseful about the choices they made back then. I asked my Mom what changed her mind, why'd she decided to walk away from her career after all this time. You want to know what she said?"

  His head bobbed up and down quickly.

  "She said that she didn't walk away from anything. Instead, she walked toward something new. I realized then that you weren't asking me to give up my dreams. You only wanted me to be willing to give it up, for us. After I left my parent's house, I had one more demon to face. I went to the accident site and poured my heart out to Devon's memory. I know it may seem strange, but it was something I needed to do." I moved off the sofa and knelt before him, taking his strong hands in mine. "Sebastian. I love you. I've never stopped loving you. I don't care that Reid kissed me, and I don't care that Rachel kissed you. I only know that you're the first man who's kiss ever meant anything to me. And I want you to be the only one kissing me for the rest of my life."

  "I don't know, Brooke. I'm not sure I can handle being rejec
ted by you a third time." He tried pulling his hands away, but I tightened my grip.

  "I never rejected you, Sebastian." His eyes narrowed and he cocked his head. "I never rejected you because you never proposed. You told me twice that you were going to propose, but you never got around to it."

  He got up and let out an exasperated sigh.

  “Losing you nearly destroyed me. I’ve spent the last month fighting to regain control over my life. I’m not sure—.”

  "I would have said yes." I blurted out. He came over and stood before me, looking down. "If you would have asked me to marry you, I would have said yes." I stood and met his gaze. "I want to spend the rest of my life falling asleep in your strong arms, and waking up to your handsome face." I brushed my thumb lightly over his piercing, giving it a light tug. "I've missed this. And I've missed you."

  "So, you'd really spend the rest of your life with me? Would I make you happy?" He tugged gently on my belt loops, pulling me closer.

  "Well, I know that without you I can't find my way. It's like I'm out of balance."

  "Like a table with a broken leg." He chuckled, softly.

  "Exactly!" I exclaimed, looping my index fingers around his belt loops, so that we now stood face to face. "I don't want to be a broken table. I want to be whole again. I need you beside me to make that happen. What do you say? Will you take me back?" I asked, moving my face closer to his.

  "Of course I'll take you back, I never let go. I'm lost without you." He closed the gap and our lips touched for the first time in more than a month.

  The kiss started out slow, our lips tentatively brushing, as if reacquainting themselves. Soon, familiarity kicked in and his lips pressed firmly against mine, taking possession. The warmth of his mouth sent a current coursing through my body. His tongue traced across my bottom lip, silently begging for me to open to him, so I did. Our tongues moved together slowly. Unhurried. He let out a low groan and it vibrated against my lips.

  He pulled me closer, pressing his body to mine, and I felt the hard lines of his muscles. I slipped a hand between us, beneath his shirt, tracing each dip and curve of his abdominals. I continued higher, moving over the defined crease of his pectorals, then ran my finger along the line of his collar bone. He stepped back, grabbing the hem of his shirt, and pulled it over his head. I went back to exploring. He remained silent, allowing my hands to move over him. It had been too long since we last touched. He watched closely, his breathing slow and deep. I bent forward, placing a tender kiss over his heart, then worked my way up his neck.

  "Brooke, I've missed being with you. I've missed everything about you. I want nothing more than to take you to my bed and make love to you, but I have to know how this time is going to be any different than before. The tour is finished." He tilted my head back and placed soft kisses along my jaw. "I could come stay with you while you finish out your time here." I moaned as his lips found their way to the hollow of my throat.

  "Oh, I forgot to tell you," my voiced quivered. "I quit." I rolled my head to the side to give him easier access. He stopped kissing and pulled back.

  "What do you mean, you quit? You loved that job. Baby, why would you do that?" He held my chin between his thumb and forefinger. "I hope you don't think I expected that."

  "No. I didn't think that. I quit because I wanted to. I don't need that position to define me as a chef. At first I thought that quitting would have made me a failure. But I didn't quit because I couldn't hack it. I quit because it no longer fulfilled my needs. I was holding onto a promise that I made a long time ago. I thought turning my back on that indicated that period of my life was insignificant. I know different now." I pressed my cheek flat against his chest. His arms held me in place.

  "What does meet your needs?" He asked, huskily.

  "You. Being with you. That's all I need. It's all that I want. I'll still work with Max in L.A., but he and I had a long talk last night and he agreed to take on someone new to run things in London."

  "Do you have to stay here until he finds a replacement?"

  "Nope. We've already found one. Reid is going to take my place." Sebastian looked at me questioningly. "What? He'll be a perfect fit. He loves living here. He's an amazing chef. And, he and Max get along perfectly. It was almost as if it were meant to be. Really. I'm very happy with my decision. I want to go home with you. Back to L.A."

  "You really left your job for us? I can't believe you did that."

  "I wanted to. I never felt pressured. Once I accepted what I truly wanted in life, I knew it was the only choice. Which brings me to the next part of my speech." I straightened myself and grasped his hands with my fingertips. Then, I went down on one knee, looking up at him.

  "Brooke, what are you doing?" He stammered.

  "Sebastian Thomas Miles, I have waited my whole life to find someone like you. Someone that loves me unconditionally. Someone that still takes my breath away, even after all this time. Would you please do me the honor--"

  "No." He interjected, and my heart fell. "This isn't right. You shouldn't be asking me to marry you. I'm the one that should be doing the asking."

  "What, is there some macho reasoning behind that? Why can't I ask you to marry me? The end result is still the same, no matter how we get there. I want to marry you." I insisted.

  "Please. I've waited over three months to be able to do this. Let me do it my way." He pleaded.

  "I just think you like being in control." I teased him, nipping at his lip.

  He cleared his throat and dropped to one knee. Now it was my turn to blush.

  "Wow. I've missed that, so much." His eyes were full of love as he gazed up at me. "Now, in previous plans I was wearing a shirt for this. So, do me a favor and just pretend that I'm wearing something much nicer than a pair of faded jeans." He smiled, nervously, showing off the pair of dimples I'd loved from the beginning. "Oh, shit. I don't have a ring." He stated, frantically. "I gave your ring away. I'm so sorry."

  "Babe, it's okay. We don't need a ring. Besides, I've met James and he seemed like a wonderful man. You did the right thing." I assured him.

  "You met James? How?"

  "Let's just say I took a cab and he shared his happiness with me. I've been told that I'm a great listener." I winked. "Now, where were we?"

  "Ahem." He cleared his throat. I looked down into the deep pool of his sapphire eyes and dove in head first. He did that to me.

  "Brooke Lynn Caldwell, I fell in love with you the moment I first laid eyes on you. Without knowing it, I gave you my heart that day, and I've never wanted it back. I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life loving you and caring for you. I will do whatever it takes to make you happy. I want to be the first person you see every morning, and the last person you kiss every night. Would you do me the honor of being my wife? Marry me, Brooke. Make me the happiest man in the world."

  Without knowing it, he too had stolen my heart from the first time I'd laid eyes on him. He had cared for me, and loved me, even before our first kiss. No one had ever made me feel the way he did, and as far as I was concerned, no one else would ever get the chance. I wanted to spend the rest of my days with him.

  "Yes. Yes Sebastian Miles, I will marry you. I want to spend the rest of our lives together." He slipped one of the rings off his right hand and slid it over my knuckle. It hung loosely on my finger, but I didn't care. That act meant something to him, therefore it meant something to me. I smiled at him and ran a finger over the silver band.

  "I love you, Brooke Caldwell." He kissed me tenderly on the mouth. "Now, where were we?" He chuckled, seductively.

  "I think you were going to take me somewhere." I couldn’t hide my smile as he motioned for me to hop on his back and he carried me to his bedroom.

  An hour later, we lay there cuddled together, basking in the afterglow of our lovemaking. I'd missed these moments together. My heart ached when I thought about how closely I'd come to losing this. I lifted my hand and slowly traced the tattoo on his chest. H
e sighed happily before leaning forward to kiss the tip of my nose.

  "I’ve missed this.” I smiled, drawing closer to him. “We're really getting married." I whispered.

  "Yeah, we really are." He kissed me once more. "I'm glad you came back. I thought I'd lost you forever."

  I wrapped my arms around him, running my fingers languidly over the tattoo covering his back, mentally envisioning each and every line of detail. I knew and loved everything about this man. The way he looked, the way he made me feel, the way his heart beat faster when he was near me. Everything.

  "Is that why you had the bottle on the table? Did I cause that?" The words came out against his chest. He tightened his grip around me, if only for a moment.

  "No. I bear the blame for that bad decision." He rested his chin on my head. With each word he spoke I felt his warm breath on my scalp. "I'll always struggle with the desire to drink. I'm a reformed alcoholic. Most days I don't even think about it. But, there are other days when I want to escape. Today was one of those days. Losing you was one of the hardest things I've ever had to face. I don’t know how many times I wanted to call you and beg you to give us another chance. Part of me knew that you needed space, but another part didn’t want to be the man that caved. I bought that bottle to prove to myself that I was strong enough. That I didn't need alcohol or you. That I could make it on my own." He threaded our fingers together. "I was wrong, on both counts."

  "But you didn't drink it, right?"

  "Not this time, but I can't say I didn't want to. I'm going to fight like hell to resist it, but there will always be something else that will push me to that breaking point. Having you with me helps. I don't say that to make you stay. It's just a fact I've come to terms with ever since I fell in love with you."

  "I don't ever want to be without you again." I sobbed into him.