He sat back down reluctantly.
I felt my eyes tear up. Nathan's concern returned.
"I'm going to find someone," he said.
"It's not that," I said, choking back tears. "My chest…"
"What is it?" he asked, turning panicky. "What's wrong?"
"I'm going to have a scar."
Nathan nodded. "Yeah, it might be a big one."
"It's going to be ugly. I'm going to be ugly."
His face softened in understanding.
"It's not going to be ugly," he said. "It's just going to be another part of you. It's going to show the world how strong you are."
"You think so?" I whispered.
"It's going to be beautiful," he said. "Just like every other part of you."
Epilogue
"So did you ever finish that glitter ball?" Nathan asked.
"Nope. That's up to Tracey now."
Nathan and I were on our way to the kids ward for the New Year's in July party. I was still recovering in the hospital from my surgery but the doctors had okayed me to get up and walk around. Even though I'd been sliced open, I refused to miss the event I'd put so much time and effort into.
"I can always push you in a wheelchair if you get tired," Nathan said.
"I'm fine," I reassured him. "In fact, I'm checking out tomorrow."
"So you're feeling better?" he asked anxiously.
"I'm healing exactly as I should be," I said. "I still need to take it easy, but the doctors say I'm doing even better than they hoped."
Even though Nathan had visited me every day since I'd gotten out of the operating room, he still needed to be convinced that everything was fine.
When we reached the playroom in the kids ward, I was astonished to see all the lights and streamers and decorations strung up on the walls and ceilings. Tracey had done a great job, even without my help at the end to set up.
I spotted Nathan's mom in the corner, talking with some of the younger kids. She was still in the hospital, still experiencing symptoms. None of us knew what the outcome would be. All we could do was hope for the best and keep up our good spirits in front of her. The rest of the band was hoping along with us, now that they knew.
Helen must have been telling the kids a joke because she was smiling down at them and they were squealing with laughter. A bunch of other kids were running around, some of them blowing into their noisemakers and other screaming at the top of their lungs. I could tell it was going to be a rowdy event.
"We should try to settle them down," I said. "We've got some instruments in the music corner. Why don't you play the kids a song?"
Nathan looked uncertain, but I gave him a small push towards an acoustic guitar. His eyes lit up and I knew he wouldn't be able to resist the lure.
The minute he sat down and starting strumming, the screaming stopped as the kids took notice of him. They quieted down, most of them heading over to sit at his feet, enraptured.
I took a seat in a chair as well, rubbing at my chest lightly. I was still a little sore, as was to be expected, but it was manageable. I couldn't wait to go home, even if it was back to my parent's house.
"Becca, right?"
I turned to find a woman with cherry red hair coming into the room with Gael. It was his sister, Cerise, the lead singer. Her boyfriend Liam, along with Julian and Seth, followed them.
I smiled at them and waved them in.
"Thank you for coming," I said. "I know it's not your usual rock star party, but I thought Nathan might like it if you guys spent some time with his mom while she's not confined to her hospital bed."
"Of course," Cerise replied. She turned to me with a genuine smile. "We want to support him any way we can. I can't believe he thought we would turn our backs on him."
"Trauma from the past can really mess you up," I said.
Her expression turned sad and rueful. "Don't I know it." She looked toward where Nathan was playing guitar for the kids. "I don't think I recognize that song. It's not one of ours, is it?"
And that was the other reason I'd asked them to come today.
"It's one of his," I said. "Nathan has been writing songs on his own. I've listened to some and I think they're amazing."
"I had no idea he was composing his own songs." Her face turned thoughtful. "He always helps add on to the stuff I write, but he's never showed an interest in writing his own." She tapped her finger against her hip to the beat. "This is really good. Different from our usual sound, but I like it."
"It's great," Julian added.
"I think he'd love it if you told him that," I said.
"We will," Cerise nodded.
Nathan finished the song. The kids all clapped and cheered. His eyes scanned the room until he found me. They went wide when he saw his band members next to me, turning nervous. I motioned for him to come over.
"Why were you hiding this amazing talent from me?" Cerise asked him the second was within earshot. "Next time I'm going to make you contribute to the album more."
"Lazy ass," Gael chortled. "You just wanted to do less work, didn't you?"
"Well, you're not getting away with it any longer," Cerise said. "I'm going to work your little fingers to the bone on our next album."
There was a teasing glint in her eyes. The nervous expression on Nathan's face melted into a silly, pleased grin.
"Damn," he chuckled. "Now I can't just coast on through anymore. Guess I'd better get used to working even harder than before."
"You damn well better."
They grinned at each other. Nathan turned to me.
"You planned this, didn't you?" he asked.
"I just invited your friends," I said innocently. "I had no idea what would happen."
But I'd had a hunch.
"Hey, so…" Nathan trailed off. He looked around and took my hand, guiding me out of the room and into the hallway.
"What is it?" I asked. "Is something wrong?"
"Nothing like that," he said. "I just wanted to talk to you about something."
I had no idea what he might want to talk about. My recovery, or his mom, or my parents. It could have been any number of things.
"You know I love you, right?" he asked.
"Of course," I said. "And I love you, too."
His eyes softened and he pulled me closer to him. Not close enough to be inappropriate in public, but enough that I could hear his heart beating wildly.
"So, I heard you're looking for a place to live," he said with a small smile on his face.
"Yeah, my parents are sort of freaking out about it, but—"
Before I could say anything else, he pulled a key out of his pocket. He looked nervous, but still flashed me a shaky grin.
My heart thumped a quick beat, as madly as his.
"I know you've still got to recover," he began, "and your mom will probably want you at home until you're better, but when you're ready to move out, I'd love if you would move in with me."
He said the words in a rush, then held his breath, holding out the key to me.
I looked at it, small and shiny in the palm of his hand.
The longer I stared, the more his face turned worried.
I placed my hand over his, curling my fingers around the key.
"I would love to move in with you," I told him.
His face lit up. He cupped the back of my head and swooped down for a firm kiss. I put a hand on his chest.
"Not in front of the children," I said.
Nathan took my hand and pressed a kiss to my fingers.
"I'm so grateful I was creeping around the hospital that day," he said.
"And I'm grateful you're staying by my side, even knowing how uncertain the future might be."
"The future is always uncertain," he said. "But there's one thing I do know."
"What's that?"
"I'm always going to love you."
Nathan's curled his fingers around mine, his eyes tender, caring and full of devotion.
It was
just as sweet as his kiss.
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Hard Rock Crush Chapter 1
The stage was empty. I tasted anticipation in the air. The band wasn't going on for another twenty minutes, and the crowd already buzzed with excitement.
"Who's playing?" I asked my brother. The launch performance for the city's Concert in the Park series always drew a big crowd, but the courtyard seemed busier than I expected.
"Don't know," Gael said. "Some local band."
"If you don't know, then why are we here?" I asked.
"We need to scope out the competition." Gael's bright blue eyes met mine as he grinned.
"Competition for what?" I asked. "We don't have a band yet. I'm not even sure I'm on board with the idea."
I had been, once. Singing in a band was all I ever wanted to do. My fiancé Harper and I'd had dreams of making it big.
But that was before.
A black pit in my stomach yawned open. An ever-present swirling mass threatened to swallow me whole.
I closed my eyes. Took a deep breath through my nose. Exhaled through my mouth. Did it again. And again.
The darkness was still there, but I was able to steel myself against it and shove it away. I refused to let despair consume me. Not anymore.
"Besides," I continued, my voice only slightly shaky. "Even if we wanted to start a band, there's only two of us. We'd still need a drummer and a guitarist."
"You play guitar," he said. "That's enough."
"I'm still not comfortable singing and playing at the same time," I said.
"Growing pains."
Someone jammed an elbow into my side with a muttered sorry. Another person stumbled into me from behind, this time without a sorry. The crowd was getting fuller by the minute. I'd never seen a Concert in the Park audience as packed as this one.
Gael glanced at me, eyeing the long hair that tumbled down my back in waves.
"That's a new shade of red," he said.
And with that comment, I knew the real reason we were here.
Gael was worried.
"Since when do guys notice when a girl gets a different hairstyle?" I asked.
Gael shrugged. "It's hard to miss when your lips are the same shade as your hair."
"So I bought new makeup to go with my new hair color. Why do you care?"
"It's different, that's all I'm saying."
That wasn't all he was saying. I heard his unspoken words.
Why did you dye your hair again?
Are you feeling okay?
Have you been thinking about him again?
It's okay to miss him, but you can't let grief control your life.
"I know," I snapped.
Gael's eyes widened in surprise.
"I mean, I know it's different," I said, trying to regain my composure. "That's the point."
Gael flicked his eyes away, focusing on the stage. "There was nothing wrong with the old Cerise," he said quietly.
I clenched my jaw. "I'm going to get a drink."
A wall of tented vendor booths surrounded the courtyard in a semicircle, penning in the concert audience. Some were handing out water bottles branded with sponsor logos. I snatched one up and, before anyone could notice, slid my way between the small gap between two booths.
There were no crowds on this side of the tent wall. The noise and furor was muted.
I took in a deep breath. Then another. And another. Slowly my heartbeat calmed.
For someone who drank like a fish and brought a new girl home every night, Gael could be oddly perceptive when it came to his little sister.
He was wrong though. There had been something wrong with the old Cerise.
The old Cerise had been too sheltered. Too naïve. The old Cerise didn't know how awful the world could be.
The old Cerise couldn't handle losing Harper. She'd fallen apart. She'd let herself break. She hadn't been able to deal with the way he'd…
My chest clenched. Pinpricks of tears threatened to sting my eyes. I blinked rapidly and took a swig from my water bottle to wet my dry throat.
"Hey there, Cherry Lips."
I choked, sputtering, as a voice spoke up and surprised me. Droplets of water splashed down my chin and onto my shirt. I wiped at my face with the back of my hand, turning to face the voice.
I was confronted by a man with wavy brown hair and stunning green eyes. He wore a black and white Our Lady Peace band t-shirt stretched tight around broad shoulders. I inhaled a sharp breath. This guy was beyond good looking. I felt like an idiot for having made a fool of myself in front of him. I folded my arms over my chest, as if somehow that would hide my embarrassment.
"What did you call me?" My words came out strangled, still coughing water out of my lungs. So much for not looking like an idiot.
The man shrugged easily. "Seemed appropriate. Your lips are cherry red." He scanned me up and down, from the top of my newly dyed hair, to the toes of my black boots, to the ends of my bright red nails. "I'm sensing a theme."
That was two guys commenting on my fashion choice in one day. Maybe I was taking it too far.
"I like it," he continued. A hint of amusement glinted in those green eyes. "It's cute."
My heart did something I hadn't felt it do in a long time.
It fluttered.
My grip tightened on the water bottle, crushing it. I pretended to wrinkle my nose in disgust. "Don't call me cute."
"Wait, let me guess." He tapped his finger to his mouth as if he were in deep thought. His own nails were tipped with black nail varnish. "Dyed red hair, combat boots, thick black eyeliner… You're aiming for cool, powerful, and fierce, right?"
I scowled to cover up the flush on my cheeks.
His shoulders shook with silent laughter.
"And what would you know about cool?" I shot back.
The smile on his lips didn't fade. "I know that trying to look cool on purpose doesn't work."
I cast my eyes down, avoiding his gaze.
I couldn't deny it. By dressing like this, I was trying to be someone I wasn't. I'd never been that strong, take-no-shit kind of person. That had never been me.
"Listen," he said. "I get it."
I looked back up, meeting the man's gaze.
"The whole, I'm-a-bad-ass, don't-mess-with-me, thing?" His green eyes burned into me. "I get where you're coming from. But this?" He waved his hand, gesturing to my hair and boots. "This isn't the way to do it."
"Then how do I?" I hated how plaintive I sounded, how weak and uncertain.
He pinned me down with a stare. "When do you feel the most powerful?"
I paused, taken aback. "I… don't know."
"Think about it," he urged. "What makes you feel like you can do anything? Like you can take on the world?"
"I suppose…" I hesitated, but powered on. "When I sing."
His eyes lit up. "Yeah? You sing?"
I nodded.
"That's the key, then," he said. "Always be singing."
I let out a derisive laugh. "I can't go around singing all the time. Life isn't a musical."
"Not out loud." He tapped one finger against my chest. "In here."
My heart went into overdrive, beating madly against my ribcage. My ears turned hot. My lungs squeezed.
I hadn't felt anything like this since the last time Harper had…
"Think you can do that, Cherry Lips?" he asked with a grin.
I nodded dumbly, silently. He winked and sauntered off, ducking between the te
nts. I stared at the space where he disappeared. I fought to calm my rapid breathing.
My cell phone buzzed — a text from Gael, written in all caps, asking where I was and telling me the concert was starting.
I followed the mysterious green-eyed stranger's path through the tents, but I didn't see him on the other side. Disappointed but not surprised, I wandered back to my brother, elbowing my way through the crowd. The audience was reaching a fever pitch. Whoever this band was, they must have had a lot of local fans.
I poked Gael in the shoulder when I finally pushed my way to him. He nodded at me and jerked his chin to the side.
"The band's name is Forever Night," he shouted over the crowd.
My mind was elsewhere, still thinking about what that guy had said.
Always be singing.
Moments later, the screech of guitars hit my ears and the thumping of drums and bass thrummed in my chest. The first few bars of the song were catchy, but not enough to take my attention away from my thoughts.
A man began to sing.
I recognized the voice.
I turned my face toward the stage.
The stranger from before held a microphone in one hand, a guitar slung around his shoulders.
His voice was smooth and crooning at first, then turned deep and growling, switching off between soft and aggressive in turns.
It wasn't just a song. It was a litany, tirade, a prayer.
It was joy and anger and longing and pain and desire and regret and—
A million emotions flashed through me in the space of a five-minute song, the singer's voice wringing out every feeling I'd suppressed since Harper had been killed.
It was as if the man had taken every emotion in the world, as if he'd taken all the love and hate he'd ever felt, and turned it back onto the audience.
That's when I knew.
This was what I wanted to do.
He was what I wanted to be.
I didn't want to be the old Cerise, innocent and insecure and naïve.
I wanted to be someone who could take everything the world threw at her and spit it back out.
I wanted to be powerful. I wanted to be fierce.
Hard Rock Kiss Page 21