He did. “Gabriel!” he shouted into my ear after I’d said hello.
“Mr. Lomber—”
“Told you ages ago, call me Kit. Mr. Lomber is my dad!” Kit was old enough to actually be my dad, but he didn’t like it when I reminded him of that fact.
“Right, Kit. How’s it going?”
“That’s the question I should be asking you, isn’t it?” he boomed. “We’ve got almost the whole crew ready and on stand-by. Location scouts are out doing their thing. The only thing that’s up in the air right now is when the star of the show is gonna be ready to start filming.”
I swallowed and hurried up the stairs to my room, shutting the door behind me. This felt like a call I needed to have in private, but I realized I’d made a mistake in coming back up here the second I glanced at the bed.
The bed, rumpled from a night spent loving Everly.
Even when I closed my eyes, I could see it. It was burned into my retinas like an afterimage of the sun. “Um,” was all I could say to Kit.
“You’re on the mend for sure,” he said. “I can hear it in your voice. You sound much stronger.”
“Yeah,” I wavered. “I’m doing better.” That rumpled bed was like an accusing finger pointed in my face.
“Gabe, level with me.” When Kit called me by my nickname, that was when things got serious. His buddy-buddy-heart-to-heart chats set my teeth on edge on a good day, and today, in spite of how it had started, was turning out to not be a very good day. “I’m hearing a lot of hesitation here,” he went on. “I understand if you want to take a step back. You’ve earned it. But—and correct me if I’m not remembering this right—I distinctly recall you telling me you were excited to come back to the show. You told me that you—hang on, I wrote this down because I thought it’d make a great tagline for the season. You told me, ‘I almost died. Now I’m ready to really start living.’”
I sucked in my breath to hear my own arrogant words read back to me. I’d said them when I was stuck in the sunroom, confined to the hospital bed. I’d called Kit, practically begging him to set a date for me to return, and I even started marking the days off on a pad of paper like a convict marks the prison wall. Those were dark days.
My days were full of light now.
“I said that,” I exhaled. “I remember.”
“So level with me, buddy. Why the hesitation? Are you still hurting? I don’t want you pushing yourself to heal too fast. You know we expect you to be back in top physical condition once we start filming.”
Right then and there, he gave me an out. I could buy myself some time to figure out what the hell came next.
And to figure out if Everly loving me meant I could convince her to come along for the ride.
I let myself think that nice thought for only a moment before I pushed it from my brain. Like hell Everly would leave with me. She had school and her work, and she’d rented that house with Rachel. I loved that she was building a life on her terms. What right did I have to make her live it on mine?
I sucked in another deep breath and tried to pitch my voice as melancholy. “It’s pretty much exactly that, Kit,” I sighed. “I overdid it in physical therapy—trying so hard to get back into top physical condition, you know—and I fucked up my ankle.” This was all true. He didn’t need to know that I was describing something that happened weeks ago. “I’m limping pretty bad, buddy, and I need—”
“More time. I hear you.” I could imagine him nodding gravely. “Well, Gabe, I’m disappointed, but I can’t say I’m surprised. Luckily you’ve got a magician like me on your side.” His casual boasting made me grin in exasperation. “I’ll take care of smoothing out schedules, but you gotta do something for me.”
“Yeah, sure,” I said automatically.
“You gotta give me a date.”
“A date?” I stalled.
“Right. A concrete date I can give them so we don’t mess with the crew’s schedules like this again. Give me the date you’re gonna be all healed up and ready to go.”
I paced in a tight circle, feeling trapped. A concrete date? “Um…give me a month.”
Kit tsked. “Damn, buddy. You’re really putting me in a bind here. I can do two weeks?”
“A month,” I insisted. “Give me a solid month to heal up.”
“That puts us out to the twenty-fourth? That’s a Sunday. I’ll send the plane for you on that Friday the twenty-second.” There was a curt finality in his voice. “I’ll let the crew know.”
“Thanks,” I said.
But he had already hung up.
“Fuck!” I shouted and hurled my phone at the rumpled bed. That was twenty-eight days. Twenty-eight days with Everly before I handed her a bomb and asked her to be happy about it.
The way I figured it, I had two options. I could tell her right now, give her time to prepare, and run the risk of her breaking things off with me prematurely. What sane girl wanted to go steady with a time limit?
My other option was to keep quiet as long as I could and let us both enjoy the time we had left without worrying about the future. Of course, if I did that, I ran the risk of her hating me for not giving her a choice.
Funny how neither risk was one I wanted to take.
That night, when I called Everly after her shift, she apologized about not being able to hang out. “Remember I told you I wanted to take Rachel out?” she said as my heart fell. “That was tonight. I definitely told you, right?”
I blew out an explosive sigh. “Yeah, baby, you did,” I promised her.
“I can cancel,” she offered. “You sound weird. What’s up?”
The last thing I needed was to stay home tonight. After Kit’s call, I’d paced around the house so much that Beau got all concerned and Finn started throwing things at me. Spending the night without my girl seemed too much to ask. “I’m fine,” I told her. “I’m just feeling cooped up.”
“You know, we’d love to have you come out, but...” Her voice trailed off.
“But?” I prompted.
She gave a nervous laugh. “I’ve sort of built up the wonders of alcohol to the point where Rachel is insisting I take her to a bar. She’s in her room getting ready right now.” Everly dropped her voice conspiratorially. “You know, for a girl who spent her life dressed in what amounts to a burlap sack, she’s got amazing fashion sense.”
I wasn’t thinking about Rachel. I was still stuck on what she’d said before. “You’re headed to a bar? Which one?”
“Crown Tavern, of course. Is there any other decent bar in this town?”
“You mean…” Now it was my turn to drop my voice. “The place where we met.”
She made a little “oh” sound. “Shit, Gabe, I guess I figured that—”
“No, I know, baby. I know.” Inside I was practically vibrating with the idea of it. To sit at the table with them while they drank was a huge risk to my sobriety.
It was exactly the kind of risk I needed right now. One I knew I could take and win. “If it’s okay with you, I’d still love to come out. Someone’s got to take care of you two naughty girls.”
She laughed. “Please. A wallflower and a girl who recently escaped a cult? Naughty is not the word I’d use.” Then her voice took on a distinctly naughty tone. “You know I want to see you,” she purred. “But it’s not fair to make Rachel be a third wheel.”
“I’ll bring someone for her,” I interjected.
“Who?”
“I’ve got way too many brothers. You pick.”
“Hmm. She already met Beau the day you guys helped us move, so she might be more comfortable with him versus Finn, who’s a bit—”
“Of a prickly asshole,” I finished. “You got it. I’ll meet you there.”
I hung up the phone, feeling that buzzy excitement again. Maybe it wasn’t jumping out of an airplane, but it was a risk all the same. A tiny one. One I could totally handle, especially with Everly there.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Everly
Something wasn’t right.
It started the night he and Beau met Rachel and me at the Crown Tavern. The four of us had had a lot of fun, and Beau and Rachel hit it off, their shared quiet intensity shutting Gabe and I out enough that we felt free to kiss and flirt all night. He handled being around alcohol beautifully; making sure to keep an eye on our drinks when we went to the bathroom and giving all four of us a safe ride home.
But then he wanted to do it again.
And again.
I was trying very, very hard to be okay with it.
But then there was the other day, when he jumped off the second step of the porch. He’d landed with his fist in the air, but my heart was in my throat. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I shouted before I could stop myself. “Are you insane?”
He’d looked it. That was the thing. His eyes were lit with this unnatural light, and as we left for our date he’d driven way too fast along the winding road next to the creek. I’d tried like hell not to yell at him again, but when my hands started shaking, I’d exploded at him, demanding to know why he was putting us both at risk. “An adrenaline junkie is just another kind of junkie!” I’d shouted.
He’d dropped me off early that night and set a new record for time going by before he called me again. “I shouldn’t have put you at risk like that,” he’d said softly. But even as I accepted his apology, I noticed he’d said nothing about risking himself.
Now I was looking at my phone and wondering how I felt about the voicemail I’d just gotten from Rachel. “Hey Ever, I wanted to let you know that Beau and I were going out tonight. And, uh, the weird thing…is that Gabe is coming with us? Yeah, I know, but he says he’ll just hang out and be our designated driver, which is really nice and all, but I sort of feel weird about it. So if you’re around, swing by the tavern and hang out with us so he’s got someone with him, okay? We’re getting there around nine.”
I let my hand drop. “What the fuck are you doing, Gabe?” I muttered aloud.
“How are you doing, Beverly?” the head nurse on the floor where I was doing my rotation called. “Everything okay?”
I shook my head to clear it. “Just fine!” I called, scurrying past her before I turned back and smiled sweetly. “It’s Everly, by the way. I know. My sister’s name is Abriella. My parents are allergic to consonants.”
She burst out laughing, which made me feel better about correcting her, but it didn’t do anything about the pit in my stomach that Gabe’s odd behavior had opened up.
Without meaning to, I flashed back to the night he’d told me about his addictions. “It wasn’t my fault,” he’d claimed.
I knew enough about recovery to know that taking responsibility was a huge part of it. If he didn’t feel responsible for using in the first place, then nothing was stopping him from falling victim to it again.
I shuddered and shoved that thought out of my mind. If he was using again, I’d know.
Then again, my workload had been insane these past couple weeks. We’d only been able to snatch a few nights out together, and one of them we spent fighting over his risk-taking.
I liked to think I’d know, but could I be certain?
That thought haunted me as I hurried through my rounds. I needed to know for certain that Gabe wasn’t using again. If he was, I needed to get him help. If he wasn’t, then I needed to find out what else was going on. My anxious mind raced through scenarios that made my hands shake so bad I nearly dropped a bedpan. If I didn’t do something to head off these nerves, I was going to have an attack. I could feel it.
That clinched it. My rotation ended at nine. If I raced home, I’d have enough time to change and put on one of Rachel’s fancy tops. Then I could head over to the Crown and figure out what the hell was going on with the man I loved.
I rolled up to the tavern feeling full of hope. Whatever was going on, I knew we were strong enough to get through it. Our connection was stronger than this. It was strong enough to withstand anything. I knew that.
That’s why I wasn’t suspicious when I walked in and spotted him by the bar, leaning in to the blonde girl sitting next to him. Sure, her hair was the most perfect shade of sunny blonde I had ever seen, and her turned-up nose made my huge schnoz look like an elephant’s trunk, but I wasn’t scared about her at all until I walked up to them without them noticing me.
Until I heard him say her name.
Noelle.
He was talking—closely, intimately—to Noelle. The girl he’d once loved enough to propose to. The beautiful pop star who’d snared his heart so thoroughly, their break-up had also broken up his band.
And he had no idea I was even in the room.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Gabe
Why was I at the bar? Beau and Rachel didn’t want me there. I missed Everly. And sitting in a bar surrounded by drunk people while nursing a Coke was getting really old.
I shouldn’t have come. I needed to leave. I was in the middle of standing up to tell that to Beau when it happened.
I saw a fucking ghost.
She floated in with her head held high, but I knew her and I could see the panic underneath her polished facade. She gave the whole place a practiced sweep of her eyes.
Like she was used to casing the joint.
Like she’d been at this for a while.
I stood stock still and stared. Had someone spiked my drink? Beau’s dangerous rumble broke into my thoughts. “Oh, what the fuck...”
“So she is here,” I muttered to him under my breath. “I’m not imagining this?”
“She’s here,” my brother said in a voice I’d never heard from him before. “And I think she sees you.”
She did. It was momentarily gratifying to see that she looked just as shocked to find me as I was to be found.
“Gabe,” she called.
I cleared my throat. “Noelle.”
It made no sense that she was here. My mind insisted this wasn’t happening even as she leaped into my arms, throwing herself around my neck. I’m not a complete asshole. I caught her so she wouldn’t go slamming to the ground. But I immediately put her back down and stepped back. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I hissed.
I’d watched her new video and been proud of how I’d felt nothing. But watching her didn’t compare at all to the tornado of emotions that came from seeing her.
And remembering.
She spoke in that little pouty, breathless voice she’d always use to cajole me. “I heard you were hurt.”
“I’m better now.” I folded my arms across my chest.
This bothered her. “I see that,” she said softly. “I wanted to come earlier.”
I snorted. “It’s okay, Noelle. You don’t have to lie.”
She pressed her lips together. “Then I should have come earlier.” It sounded like she was trying to apologize.
This was a surprise. I had never known Noelle to admit fault. Ever. And that made me wary. “Okay.”
“Gabe?”
Fuck. “Noelle, I really don’t know why you’re here, but...”
“I’m here because I’ve missed you,” she interrupted smoothly.
Beau swore under his breath. I shook my head at her. “No,” I said firmly. “This isn’t happening. You need to get the fuck out of my bar. My town. Get the fuck out of my whole state, Noelle. I’m serious.”
The tears and hysterics I braced for never came. She looked the same, but something about her had fundamentally changed. A layer of artifice had been stripped away. There was strength and wariness in those blue eyes that hadn’t been there before, and something wounded cowered under her skin.
She turned her palms up in a gesture of surrender. “I need to tell you something.”
“I don’t want to hear excuses and I don’t want you to tell me you can explain.” My blood was heating up. “There’s no way you could explain how you said you loved me and then turned around and had Bennett’s cock in your mouth.�
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She winced and glanced over at Beau, who stared at her implacably. Rachel had her hand over her mouth. Noelle reddened. “Gabe, can we go somewhere and talk in private?”
I took three big steps to the left and leaned against the bar. “This works for me,” I said. “Go ahead. Talk.”
Keeping her head held high, she turned and looked at my brother. “It’s good to see you again, Beau. I’ve missed you guys.”
Beau stayed silent, but the set of his jaw didn't change He had my back and if I called on him, he’d be there for me in whatever way I needed.
In a way, I was impressed with Noelle’s guts right now. She’d come to my home turf. She had to know she’d be outnumbered. She was here anyway.
“Okay,” she said, sitting down on a barstool. “Thank you for letting me talk.” Then she turned and looked me full in the eye. “I’m not going to lie to you and tell you you didn’t see what you saw.”
This wasn’t what I was expecting. I was ready for a fight. I itched to make her feel half as shitty as I’d felt the day she betrayed me. Her clear-eyed admission made a lump form in my throat. “Okay,” I said, consciously unclenching my fist.
Noelle watched my hand. She took a deep breath and looked straight ahead. Not meeting my eyes seemed to make the words come a little easier. “You saw what you saw. I was doing what you saw me doing. But I didn’t want it.”
For the second time this minute I felt like she’d punched me in the gut. “What?” My eyelid twitched. “He was forcing you?” I didn’t love her anymore, but I would kill him for this without hesitating.
She darted a frightened look at me. “No, not like that. It wasn’t…” She swallowed. “Rape?” The word came out like a question. “Not exactly.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Clearly, I don’t either.” Her laugh was nothing like the high, breathless sound she used to make when we were together. Was I hearing her real laugh now? Was this clear-eyed, frank-talking woman the real Noelle St. Lucia?
Lost Perfect Kiss: A Crown Creek Novel Page 17