STONED (Wrecked Book 1)

by Mandi Beck

  “About babies?”

  Not looking at me he nods. “About babies, and other things.” His voice drops an octave, the playfulness gone, and his face becomes pinched. I shake my head confused about what else he could be reading about to put that look on his face and that tone to his words.

  “What other things?”

  Watching him closely I notice when his hands tighten on the steering wheel, twisting over the wrapped leather, causing it to creak. I see his jaw tense and his Adam’s apple bob when he swallows. It all falls into place.

  Removing the lolli from his mouth he tosses it into an empty cup sitting in the console. “I’ve been reading about what happened to you. How people are expected to live with the aftermath in their everyday lives. How it affects them,” Stone says, glancing at me before he switches lanes and slows down to pull into a parking spot in front of a row of eclectic shops on Queen Street. Slowly he shuts off the ignition and turns to look at me.

  “Why?” My brows are drawn down, trying to understand.

  “Because if it affects you, it affects me, Wills.” When I start to shake my head, he interrupts. “For just a minute do your best to forget about the asshole I was while I was using and remember the guy I was before all the bullshit. Wouldn’t that guy care about something so fucking important? So serious and life changing?” He waits for my answer and I can’t deny that he’s right. That Stone would’ve been by my side every step of the way. Helping me to heal and learn to live with what happened that night. Cheering me on and encouraging me as I became the woman I needed to be so that I could love myself again, and more importantly, love Lyric without conditions. I did all of that, but I did it without him. That he’s reading about it now brings tears to my eyes. “It never should have happened, but it did. I will never forgive myself. As long as I live I will carry it with me. There’s nothing I can do to change any of it though. God knows I would if I could, so I need to be able to understand because I want to be able to help you if you need me. It’s not enough to love you. I want to know what you might need from me. I want to be able to lift you up if you fall.” Stone swipes a tear from my cheek and then places his rough hand on my thigh, squeezing slightly. “Not that I think you will ever fall. You’re the strongest person I know. Always have been, Birdie. I just want to be the one picking you up if you ever falter for a change, instead of you being the one dragging my ass to my feet.”

  I don’t know what to say. With his hand on my leg, tears running down my face, his scent surrounding me, the sound of my heartbeat in my ears, I’m overwhelmed. It’s all so much and yet not enough. The urge to walk away from him and all of these contradicting feelings is just as strong as the desire to crawl into his lap and let him hold me tight. All my broken pieces wanting to cling to him, begging to be made whole. We sit quietly, him watching me and me trying to rein in my emotions and the chaos he always manages to stir up inside me. “You’re right and I’m sorry. It’s going to take some time for me to learn to separate those two versions of you. They’re so different, yet they wore the same face.” Sniffling, I look up at him and admit, “I hated who you became, but I’m learning that you’re not your addiction, Stone. Your mistakes aren't what define you. That you can be more than your demons and you’re doing just that. You are digging in deeper than the scars you've left behind. On both of us.” My eyes are drawn to his hand as he presses his fingers to his mouth, tugging gently at his bottom lip. “You're not your addiction,” I repeat for both of us. “You're so much more. It’s just hard for me to remember that.” Taking a deep breath, “I’ve blamed you for so long. I didn’t blame him when I know I should have. It was easier for me to blame you. It made staying away from you a little more bearable.”

  Stone makes a strangled noise low in his throat, “Birdie—”

  “I don’t blame you anymore. I don't blame you,” I repeat in a breathy voice. I'm surprised at this revelation and feel the need to repeat it again, taste the truth in the words and let him do the same. “I don't blame you,” I say with conviction.

  Stone gives a stiff nod and takes the key out of the ignition. I watch, slightly dazed and a little confused as he gets out and walks around to my side and jerks open the door. I'm just about to ask what he's doing when he gathers me into his arms and pulls me from the truck. He holds me suspended in the air, tight against him, his face buried in my hair. Without hesitation, I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him even tighter. I can feel the trembling, but I'm not sure which one of us it is.

  “I blame me, Birdie. You don't have to. I fucking blame me,” Stone swears into my hair, never loosening his hold.

  There's nothing I'll be able to say to change his stance, so I just squeeze tighter, hold him harder. Let our broken bits meld together and hope that just a few more of them will come out whole. And when the rain starts, he doesn’t let go and neither do I. We just stand wrapped up in one another’s arms, chest to chest, our hearts beating as one. Finally beating in rhythm.

  Stone

  NOT GIVING TWO SHITS ABOUT standing in the rain, getting soaked, I savor the feel of Willow in my arms for one second more, doing my best to shield her from the nasty weather. When the ground shakes with thunder, and lightning flashes through the sky, I reluctantly let go and tuck her back into the truck. Jogging around the front, I stop and look through the windshield at her, the rain making it difficult to see clearly, but I can make her out just enough. Some heavy shit went down here today, but it was necessary and now I feel as if a weight has been lifted, leaving me lighter and able to properly redeem myself. I have so much to make up for. I have more to atone for than any one man should. I know what it is to have the love of a good woman. I won’t stop until I’ve proven that I’m worthy of that love again.

  Through the rain, Willow peers out at me. When I don’t move, she cocks her head and motions for me to hurry up. Completely soaked, I hop in and quickly slam the door on the now torrential downpour. “I guess we aren’t walking on the beach after all. Where the fuck did that come from?” I ask her as I push back the wet hair clinging to my face. I’m sorry for the interruption of the shit weather but it’s probably for the best. It helped to lighten up a heavy moment. I don’t want to let that heavy moment set the tone for our time together today.

  “Welcome to Canada,” Willow laughs, using the edge of her shirt to dry her face. Just that little flash of skin, the little strip just above her waistband, has me sucking in a deep, breath. It’s been too long. I’ve been teasing her for months, reminding her of how good we are together, about how I know her body and what she likes. All that time it was all foreplay for me. Torturous, make me hard foreplay.

  I clear my throat, hoping to rid my voice of the need I feel for her. “So since we can’t walk, should we chance being recognized and get some food? I’m starving.”

  “There’s a place we can go over by The Dirty Bird. Nothing fancy, coffee and sweets, but some great little sandwiches too. It’s my favorite place to be if I’m not at the DB,” she suggests, to my relief. I was afraid she’d just ask me to take her home.

  Putting the wipers on high and kicking the defroster on, I shift the truck into gear. Once I’m on the road, I jerk my chin in the direction of the glove box for another lolli. I’m dying for a smoke, but I really want to try not to smoke around her as much. Just like she always has, she says nothing, knowing what I want, and grabs one out and hands it over. I raise my brows and grin at her. “Watermelon. My favorite.”

  Willow rolls her eyes at me, but not before I see those thighs press together and that flush creep over her cheeks. Not able to contain it, my grin turns into a smile that I try to hide behind my hand. “Yours too, right?” I tease, loving that she just glares at me as her cheeks get pinker and she crosses her legs. I can’t wait to get my lolli all over her again.

  Few minutes later and we’re turning onto my street. We jammed to some Lynyrd Skynyrd followed by some Maroon 5, which I promised not to judge her for, and then some Mumfo
rd and Sons on the way to my house, not leaving room for me to ask if she minded stopping. There was no way I could sit in public with this wet ass shirt stuck to me. Just driving and singing at the top of our lungs while the rain beat down on the truck was fucking awesome. It was like old times. I almost just kept driving. “I have to run in and change my clothes really quick, Birdie. I’m fucking soaked.”

  “I figured that’s where we were going. Is this it?” Peering through the windshield through the rain, I see her eyes widen. “How in the hell did you manage to not only buy a place a block from me but one so big in this area?” she asks as I hit the remote on the gate that Judge insisted I have installed.

  “I’d say it was luck, but I think it was fate,” I tell her, driving through to the garage at the end of the drive. “Wait ’til you see the inside, you’ll love it.” I’m excited to have her here finally. As lame as it sounds, I wanted her to see it and get her approval. I’ve never bought a house without her. Even my first place when she was still in high school she had a say in. “Come on, I promise to be quick.” I hop out of the truck and go to help her out, but she’s already jumping down so I wait at the hood.

  “I still can’t believe that you found this place,” she says following behind me.

  “I like it. I’m not sure if I’ll stay here though,” I say over my shoulder. Willows face falls a little bit, clearly taking that the wrong way.

  “Yeah, of course not. You have a home in Austin.”

  “I do. But what I meant is I want this piece of land over on the beach. I’m waiting on the finance guys to approve it right now. It’s pricey, but we can build the most incredible house on the property. Beachfront. Exactly the way we want it.” If she noticed that I said “we” she doesn’t mention it.

  “Wow. I don’t even want to know the price tag on that.”

  “No, no, you don’t,” I laugh. “So here’s the kitchen.” I gesture to the wide open room, all stainless steel, wood beams and exposed brick.

  Willow sighs dramatically “What a waste of a beautiful kitchen,”

  “Yeah, yeah, smart ass. Feel free to come and cook for me so that I don’t starve.” Tossing a wink her way, I take her through the formal dining room.

  “Talk about wasted space,” I mutter, grinning at her. She was adamant that we have one in the house in Austin although we ate in it exactly two times a year. We’re entering the main living room when she stops, eyes focused on the grand piano in the corner, and the picture sitting on top of it.

  “You brought it,” she breathes out. Tentatively, like it might jump up from its perch and bite her, she makes her way over, sliding across the bench, eyes never leaving the framed memory. “Of everything I left behind, this is the one thing I missed the most,” Willow murmurs, running a finger over the glass. “Seems silly, when you think of it. It’s just a picture.” A small smile sneaks across her face. “We were so happy,” she says wistfully. I cross my arms across my chest to stop myself from reaching for her.

  “Yeah, we were.” My voice is low, gentle. I want to tell her how surprised I was that she had left it. How fucking hurt. How seeing it there made me go out of my fucking mind. But I don’t want to bring that shit up right now. I don’t want to remind her of the reasons she left. Only of the reasons she needs to come back.

  “We’ll be that happy again, Wills. And think of all the fun we’ll have on the way.” I don’t give her a chance to respond or shoot me down. “I’ll be right back, I’m just gonna go change. Look around if you want. The decorator is still working on shit so there’s not a whole lot to see.”

  Leaving her to put on a dry shirt gives me a minute to get myself together as well as her. Everything inside me is screaming to bring her upstairs to my bedroom and lay her down. Spend the rest of my life getting reacquainted with her body. Learning all the new curves and valleys. I groan a low rumble, entering my room and walking straight to the shower. I need a minute and so does my cock.

  Willow

  I’M STILL SITTING AT THE piano, letting my fingers dance softly over the keys, staring out the window at nothing when I hear him come into the room. “You always were a better player than I’ll ever be,” Stone says, drawing my attention to where he stands. Hair damp and falling into his face, plain white tee clinging to his muscled chest and his ridiculously chiseled arms, the front tucked into his favorite jeans showcasing the belt buckle I’d bought him ages ago. The worn leather cuff on his wrist and ring on his index finger making him look just edgy enough to hint at the rock star he truly is. It’s his scent that gets me though. A scent I missed more than is normal, I’m sure. It’s fresh and warm, woodsy and natural. Like a cozy blanket wrapped around you while you sit in the cool morning air and watch the sun come up over the lake. Way too much thought goes into that, but it’s exactly what it reminds me of.

  Having looked my fill, I bring my eyes back up to his. “I’m better than you at a lot of things,” I say to rile him up. Piano isn’t one of them. He always seemed to think so, but he never sat and listened to himself play the way I did. Stone picked up an instrument and made love to it. He didn’t just play them. He formed a bond. He’s never given himself enough credit, always crazy hard on himself. “You ready to go now?” Getting up, I walk around the piano toward him.

  “Do you need to go home and change or are you okay?” Stone asks, letting his gaze roam over me. Lovingly. Longingly. Lasciviously.

  “Nope, I’m good,” I answer quickly, leading the way out of the room. Suddenly the house seems much too small for his presence.

  The bells over the door tinkle as we walk into Spun. Kim standing at the counter turns around at the sound, smiling at me and then gawking at Stone for a moment before schooling her features. I snicker under my breath; she didn’t react that way when I brought Joaquin in here.

  “Willow, where have you been? I haven’t seen you all week,” she accuses. Then, “Who’s your friend?” As if she didn’t already know.

  “Kim, this is Stone. Stone, this is Kim. She’s part owner here.”

  Stone steps forward and offers her his hand to shake. “Nice to meet you. Wills says this is her favorite place to be,” he tells her, grinning.

  I glance over at Kim and see her swoon. It’s ridiculous. I roll my eyes and intervene.

  “Can I get a set up for a dirty chai, and one of my muffins?”

  Kim, still holding on to Stone’s hand, looks over at me like I’ve just spoken Japanese. “Hmmm?”

  “Lord, woman. Just make my damn tea,” I laugh when she startles.

  “Right. Shit. Sorry,” she says, flustered. She finally drops Stone’s hand. “And for you?”

  Stone’s grin widens. He’s enjoying throwing her off her game. The prick. Putting Kim out of her misery I push him out of the way.

  “He’ll have a sweet tea with extra lemon and the roast beef and horseradish on the ciabatta bread without the arugula.” I don’t even have to think about it. That’s how well I know him. I think about my own order for longer. I look over to him, brows raised in question.

  “Sounds perfect, Birdie.”

  Kim flits away to get our order started, handing me the drinks a moment later. “I’ll bring the muffin and the sandwich in a minute.”

  Taking the tray with everything I need to make my drink, I hand Stone his glass and lead the way into the back room where I like to sit, avoiding the table I sat at with Joaquin. Seems silly but I feel a twinge of guilt.

  “This place is pretty cool. I can see why you like it here.”

  “I do,” I agree, taking a sip of my tea. “Tell me what’s going on at the label. When I talked to Judge the other day he seemed super stressed.”

  Stone stretches his long legs out so that they’re on either side of mine and turns his hat backwards. “Well, I told you the label is pushing us to tour and I don’t want to right now. Having some time off made me realize how hard we’d been working for so long. I mean, it was twelve straight months on the road the last
tour we did.” He shakes his head. “It gets old.”

  “I agree with you there. It’s tough. What option do you have though?” I ask, stirring my drink thoughtfully.

  “Not resigning. Starting our own label,” Stone says, watching me for my reaction.

  “Is that even an option?” I sit forward, truly interested in what he has to say. I missed talking shop with him.

  “‘Willow’ is the last album that we owe them on this contract. Judge is in negotiations now, but I’m leaning more toward going into business for ourselves, pick up some awesome new talent and call it a day.” The excitement in his voice makes me smile. Stone doesn’t get excited about much. He gives meaning to the word “broody.”

  “I think that’s a great idea. You guys would have no problem putting together a client list.” I nod enthusiastically.

  “That’s what I’m thinking. I’ll know more once Judge gets back.”

  We’re interrupted briefly by Kim bringing our food and another sweet tea for Stone. I thank her as she sets everything down, doing her best not to stare at him. I’ve never seen her so flustered. When she leaves I ask, “So is that why Judge is so uptight lately?” Popping a bite of my cranberry orange muffin in my mouth I chew slowly and wait for him to answer.

  “Partly. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you what really got him all fucking pissy,” he chuckles.

  Nudging his foot with mine, “Tell me right now.”

  “You remember that one model chick that was in a couple of our videos? Judge liked her, called her back?”

  “The tall blonde, Brianna?” I remember because I didn’t like her. Not even a little. She was all over the guys, trying to gauge which would stick, it seemed like.

  “That’s the one. Apparently she’s pregnant.”

  When he stops there I sit and watch him, waiting for the rest and then it dawns on me. “With his baby?” I ask, stunned. “Is he sure? Holy shit. Out of all of you, I never would've bet on Judge . . .”