Stolen Tyme

by S. L. Ziegler

  He was the one to take the stand as all hell breaks loose because I made her perform with me.

  I’m glued to the couch. They shouldn’t have gotten that footage at all. That was my safe place, but I shouldn’t have trusted it once the news of my own songwriting went viral. Her humiliation is on me.

  The ring of my phone echoes through the room, and her name flashes on the screen.

  “Xavier, it’s out,” Naomi rushes out before I can even say hello.

  “I know. I saw.”

  Heard.

  Re-watched to make sure it wasn’t a nightmare I’m stuck in. But not for me. For her. Naomi’s life will be changed forever.

  People are going to hound her, and I’m the selfish ass who couldn’t be there to protect her.

  “I’m so flipping sorry. I don’t know how they got the video, but I didn’t do it. I wouldn’t do that to you,” Naomi rambles.

  “I know that.” I do.

  I know her. Even with me losing a small amount of trust in Naomi, I didn’t lose truly knowing her.

  “I can’t take what they did to you. I know your privacy is important, and because of me, that’s shot.” The unease flows through the line of the phone.

  “Naomi, it wasn’t because of you. Some ass recorded it and probably sold it for top dollar. Usually, there would’ve been a heads-up that someone was shopping it, but I’ve been so low key that I didn’t think about the publicity of it. This is my fault. Not yours.” My fault, the ass who sold it, and that shithead Matt for bringing it out. But certainly not Naomi’s.

  “I was so worried.”

  “Why?” My neck muscles tense—she shouldn’t be worried about me, she shouldn’t have to worry about my secret coming out. This is the night she should scream her accomplishments to the sky, not worry about me. I never want her to fucking worry about me.

  “That you…”

  It clicks why she would be worried. It’s because I have a tendency to blow up easily. And she is always the person who gets hit with the explosion.

  “That I would be pissed?” I interrupt her.

  “Yes.”

  “Never.”

  Not over this. I won’t let doubt steal her high of winning.

  “Thank you,” she says.

  “I saw you perform and your win. It was one for the books.” So much more than that. I saw a life going out the window if I don’t step up.

  “Coming from you, that means a lot. How’s Charlie? Does she have a fever?”

  Leave it to Naomi to worry about Charlie and allowing it to overshadow her win.

  “So Callum came through for me?”

  She chuckles, the first real sound of laughter I’ve heard from her in far too fucking long. “He did. The flowers were beyond beautiful.”

  “I’m glad you liked them.” I went to a billion fucking places to pick it out.

  “I love them. I’m actually staring at them right now. Callum said you picked them out.”

  “Just for you.”

  “I know you can’t see me, but I’m glad I didn’t FaceTime you.”

  “And why would that be?”

  “I’m red as a cherry. You are the only one who can ever make me blush this way.”

  I let the silence between us hold its own lingering effect.

  “Naomi, we’re going to be okay. I know it. Just have to figure this shit out. It has nothing to do with you.”

  “Promise?”

  I close my eyes and try to picture what she’s doing at this exact moment. And I can’t. Not anymore. And that’s when I know it will be okay because the picture of her future isn’t set yet.

  “Promise.”

  “I have to get going. I can only hide from Tara for so long, and now people are banging on the door. What should I tell them?”

  “That right now, there are no plans, but if it changes, we’ll let everyone know.”

  “Okay.” She’s hesitant, I can tell, but I’ll prove it to her. Prove it to everyone.

  “I love you.”

  “You too.”

  Now, I can picture her holding the phone with that smirk on her lips. It seems like all we’re doing is playing games.

  Games that can make or break us.

  The speaker volume is maxed out on my phone as I talk to my old record company. I can do this. I know it. This is my future. Not if but when. I glance over to Callum where he’s sitting right next to me for the support I need.

  “Xavier, your deal is for music. That’s what you want, correct?” Aaron from the company asks. The confusion embedded deep in his voice.

  “Yes.”

  I will make this work. For my family. For me. This is in the cards. Trust and believe I will get there. Now it’s all in the details, playing it straight.

  “No touring?” he questions.

  “No, you know as well as I do, the last few years of my career you lost more money on me than you made on those tours. I can’t let myself go that route again. For either of us.”

  I may have been out of the game of negotiations for a long-ass time, but I didn’t forget you always made it seem like it was a better choice for their pocket. And touring is it. I wasn’t lying, I cost them a good chunk of change with them covering up all my messes and having to sweep them under the rug.

  “What about playing shows out of town? Maybe twice a month. No more. I can do more with that.”

  “If I can take a plane so I don’t have the downtime that a bus gives me and no after shows at bars. You know as well as I do that’s where the drugs are. And if I can bring my daughter, I’ll do it.”

  I’ll have to find a sitter willing to travel with us. I won’t have my twelve-year-old spend weekends without me, but I can make this version work. With Charlie there, I can do it, because I’ll have that face of hers right next to me as a reminder of what slipping up on the road can cost me.

  “And let me get this right, you want us to drug test you? That isn’t conventional. Even for you. Usually it’s us bringing that up.”

  Not even.

  “It isn’t. I know. But I need the accountability.”

  I’ve learned many things in recovery, and the most important one being that an addict needs liability. Even if you have almost ten years of sobriety under your belt, it takes one time to change the life you’ve built.

  “You’ve made the label a lot of money with the songs you’ve sold us over the last few years. Not to mention, a solo album from you would make us even more. I think we can make it work. Will you still be selling us your other songs?”

  “I’ll never stop writing, and for now, I’ll just keep the ones I like best for me.”

  “Let me take this upstairs, and I’ll get back to you. I think it has promise. I’ll call you later today with their answer. And, Xavier?”

  “Yep?”

  “It’s fucking great to have you back. I was always rooting for you. You look good.”

  Good means healthy in his eyes. And I’ll take it.

  “Thanks, man.” I hang up, putting a mental check next to one of the things on my to-do list. The to-do list that means I can get the girl back.

  The hard smack of Callum’s hand brings me back to the present. “Now, you just have to wait.”

  “Waiting seems to be the one thing I’m good at.”

  I’ve had my fair share of practice at it the last few days with Naomi. I call, and she waits a painstakingly long time to call me back. I’m the fool who let it get like this between us.

  “Have you heard from her?” Callum asks with a slight chill to him. He came under her spell the night of the awards show. Along with all of Hollywood.

  “Naomi?” I haven’t said anything about what happened after she left. If I said it to him, the truth, the pain I let out in the open would be out for him to pick through.

  “No, Mila Kunis. Yes, Naomi, you dipshit.”

  Sighing, I concede to having to tell him now. I can’t hide it from him any longer. “Ever since that video leaked, we�
��ve been talking.” Well, me calling obsessively, but it’s actually talking. “Reed and Hadley said they’ll keep Charlie for a night so I could fly out to see her.”

  See her, show her that space is over between us.

  “You should.”

  “Now you’re on her side?”

  “I’ve seen her without you. She loves you, man.”

  “I know she does.”

  Just hoping the space hasn’t changed the love she has for us.

  “I’m going to ignore the fact that you told Reed first, because getting pissed that you have another friend is girl shit. What time do you leave?”

  I glance at my watch, nervous for the first time since I booked the flight. There’s a possibility she could slam the door in my face when I get there.

  “Ten minutes.”

  “Damn, you weren’t fucking around. Go make your flight before you chicken the fuck out. And hey, X? Good luck. I have a feeling you’ll need it.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  I’ll need luck and hope that the door swings open not closed. I’m hoping what we shared is still there.

  Chapter 20

  Naomi

  My whole body is dripping in sweat, the muscles yelling from the work they have put in, and my voice is maxed out. But even with all that, I’m proud of the overt rawness in my performance. It was more than I could hope for after all the weeks of practice when I didn’t think it would work out. We did it.

  The crowd goes wild as I exit the stage to the left. Tara and Max, the director, are both waiting in the wings for me. Tara has tears in her eyes, and Max has dollar signs in his. Opening night will make or break a show.

  And I just made it. So much more. The ending changed from the time I wrote it, but I believe everyone deserves their own happily ever after. Even me.

  Tara links her arms around my shoulders in a hug before letting go. The tears she held in her eyes are now rolling down her cheeks. “That was…wow. Just wow. When you sang about the loss of love then finding it…I got all choked up.”

  I shuffle my feet and stifle the overwhelming desire to cry with Tara. “Well, don’t get all emotional. I’m the one who just showed all my cards on the stage for everyone to see. And if you keep doing that, then I won’t be too far behind you.”

  Her face morphs from pride to sorrow for me. “I’ve seen all your shows, and this one is all you. It’s something.”

  “Thank you. I’m going to go to the dressing room and change.”

  And check to see if Xavier called.

  “Okay, your father will be back there, too. He wanted to do something in there for you. Act surprised, though. I’m only telling you because I know the first thing you do is throw off your costume. But that may scar him.”

  “Thanks for the heads-up.”

  “Anything for you.”

  I crack open the door, expecting Lock to jump out and surprise me, but all I see are balloons from the floor to the ceiling—they’re everywhere.

  “Hey, honey,” Lock calls out from behind me.

  Turning around, I can’t help but let out a chuckle at him. He is proudly wearing a shirt with my image on it, and a huge smile on his face. “Pops, was that you?”

  “I never did this shit for your recitals. It’s time for me to show you how fucking proud of you I really am.”

  “But…”

  “But nothing, Naomi. That shit I just witnessed was art. I’m glad I was here.”

  And just like that, with a red corset on, more makeup than he has ever seen me in and enough hairspray to kill the ozone, I become his little girl again and run into his arms.

  He holds me like he did when I was eight, and I never felt better about our relationship.

  “Tara said you wanted to go out to eat. Can I crash it?”

  “You are always allowed to crash it.”

  The empty shot glasses line the table. The excitement from a killer opening night flitters around the crew, and my own father flirts with the show’s makeup artist, Marci. At least this one is older than I am. But I can’t really say anything since I not only had a fling with his best friend but gave my heart to him.

  Standards.

  But as happy as I am that tonight went off without a glitch, something—someone—is missing. It shouldn’t matter that he didn’t call. But he said he would.

  “Why do you keep looking at your phone? Something better than this?” my father asks with a beer in his hand.

  “Nothing, I’m just spent. I think I’ll head out.” I make a move for my purse, but Lock’s hand stops me.

  “Just wait, maybe five minutes.”

  “Pops, I’m so exhausted I think my hair needs a nap. You stay and have fun.”

  “I’ll leave…”

  “Stay. I got you a room in the hotel. Just stop at the front desk and tell them your name. And if you sleep with Marci, don’t kick her out. That would be an extra pill of awkward for me tomorrow.”

  “Omi, I’m old enough, and I’ll be smart.”

  Yet his words don’t help the inevitable feeling that tomorrow will be tense between me and Marci.

  “Whatever you say. Love you, old man. Thank you for coming.”

  “I have to fly out early. You sure you don’t want me to come keep you company?”

  “No. I’m telling you, I’m fine. Have fun.” I place a peck on his cheek before waving to the rest of the table.

  I haven’t felt this alone surrounded by people in ages. And I hate it.

  My feet have a mind of their own as the rest of my body is a zombie getting off the elevator. My eyes barely stay open. I forget the rush I get from being on stage, and the harsh crash I get once I get off.

  I rumble through my bag for my card to my door, but my toes hit something on the ground.

  I’m dead.

  X is here. On the floor, next to my suite, with a bag at his side.

  “What are you doing here?” My heart rattles in my chest as my stare is locked on a pair of eyes I didn’t think I would see outside my door.

  In Vegas.

  “I wanted to surprise you,” X says.

  And he did. The surprise from seeing him leaves me too shocked for words.

  “Wh—I… Come…” I give up talking as I unlock the door, leaving it open enough for him to slide through.

  The sound of him dropping his bag echoes throughout the space right along with the humming in my ears.

  He gave me no hint he would show up here. My body becomes weighted down as I slowly tread to the small refrigerator to get water. I was supposed to be able to talk to him the next time I saw him, not be a rambling idiot.

  The coolness of the water rushes down my throat before I speak. As I stand here, the shock of Xavier being here finally settles in. I’ve seen him everywhere, a mirage of him. But tonight, there’s no waking up from this. He came. And he’s real.

  “You weren’t in the neighborhood?”

  “If by neighborhood, you mean take a four-hour plane ride, fight with an asshole at the airport for a taxi, end up getting here too late to watch your show, and then sit here for an hour waiting on you—then yes, by that account, I was in the neighborhood.”

  “I like that.”

  Love it. The crash after the rush of performing is now gone with how reckless my heart is spinning.

  Xavier steps closer to me, his mere presence in my space making it feel more like home than it has since I came here. The thoughts of being alone vanish. “I was hoping to watch you perform the new show, and I want to murder that ass at the airport for making me miss it…even more so because I have to leave tomorrow.”

  Tomorrow.

  But X is here, now.

  “But we have tonight.”

  And that’s what counts. In this moment, the only thing that matters is he’s with me in my air, my space.

  “We have tonight.” X’s hint of a grin causes my knees to go weak. He makes my heart move. Me move.

  Xavier takes me in his arms, the smell
of his aftershave hitting my nostrils. I missed him. Us. All of it. I shouldn’t have agreed to being gone.

  Almost two months apart is too long.

  I should have told him of this chance before, I should have told him if it was a child or him. It will always be him. He brings me life, and I don’t care what I have to sacrifice for Xavier to be near me.

  The things I heard before I left mean nothing now if he always looks at me like I’m the something he’s been searching for. I know I should tell him more about how I felt, how it felt when he was gone. But I’m not ready to open that box. And I need to be. And I need the time with him to get there. I’ll make believe until it’s time.

  So I’ll enjoy this and let it ride until he leaves tomorrow and deal with what’s left in the wake.

  X lowers his head, his mouth meeting mine. Strong—vivid—desires course through me. My body yearns to be touched more.

  Only by him.

  No one else can do this. His warmth consumes me as he rips my shirt off over my head.

  My bra next.

  My pants forgotten.

  My panties thrown into the pile of discarded clothes.

  I’m lost—caught in this moment. It’s never too late to be with him.

  His gaze travels over my body, and I feel it like it is his touch.

  “Jesus, I can’t take it,” he rushes out, pulling his shirt over his head.

  I rake my hands over his chest before I unbutton his pants. “That’s the problem…I want you to take it. Anyway you can.”

  Always.

  “I had plans of soft and slow. Showing you just how much I love you the right way.” The huskiness fills his voice. He lusts for me as much as I do him.

  “There is no wrong way to show me, and you know us with plans—they never seem to work out the way we expect them to.”

  “Hell no they don’t.” Xavier’s broad shoulders are heaving as he breathes. His eyes devour me with each glance.

  It’s too much…it’s just enough.

  He yanks me even closer, everywhere he touches leaving a trail of tingles in its wake.

  He enters in one swift movement with nothing else left to say. Xavier captures my lips with his. It’s savage. Burning. Possession.