“Dude, he’s right,” Matt said cautiously. “We took it as a good sign that you’re getting out and looking so freaking happy. It was good to see you smile tonight. I’ll be honest, I think it’s been years since I’ve seen you look so happy. So it’s no coincidence that we’re attributing at least part of that to Charlotte.”
He glared at Dylan, who simply shrugged and nodded.
“I didn’t go looking for this,” Julian admitted in a low voice. “She sort of took me by surprise. Once I stopped fighting it…I didn’t want to fight it anymore. There’s something about her that just makes me want to feel again.”
“And there’s nothing wrong with that,” Dylan said. “Maybe in time you’ll feel that way about the music again.”
“I don’t know.”
“Look, just think about it. Again,” Matt said. “I may not live close by like the rest of you, but I can get here in less than a day any time you’re ready to play. Okay?”
Julian’s throat was tight with emotion. He seriously would walk through fire for any of them and it was humbling to know they’d do the same for him.
“Okay then,” Riley said and grinned. “We’ll set a timer and jam for maybe…an hour. How does that sound? You can even go up and make sure Charlotte’s okay with it before we start.”
Unable to help himself, he laughed. He glanced toward the stairs—if he went up there to check on her, she’d be embarrassed. He also knew she’d want him to have this time with the guys. And on top of that, Julian knew Charlotte could hold her own in any situation. She was amazing like that.
The drum kit set up in the corner was calling him.
Who was he to fight it?
“One hour,” was all he said as he walked over to take his seat.
* * *
“Oh my God, I swear I just wanted to bite him the first time I saw him without a shirt on!” Paige said, and they all laughed with her.
Charlotte knew within the first few minutes of meeting Savannah, Vivienne, and Paige that she was going to like them. She’d just had no idea how much she was going to love them and laugh with them!
As soon as the guys had gone downstairs, she’d been met with three curious looks, and then the grilling had begun. She’d shared how she and Julian met, when she first realized she was attracted to him, and their first kiss.
Luckily, they were sensitive enough not to ask for more details than that.
After she was done, they’d each shared their own stories—most of which Julian had already told her—but it was nice to hear it from their point of view. And the stories were way more romantic than Julian had described them; Charlotte caught herself sighing more than once at just how romantic.
She had to stop herself from trying to imagine if hers and Julian’s would be too.
“I never really thought I was the kind of girl who would be attracted to a rock star,” Paige went on. “But after meeting Dylan, I was hooked.”
“The feeling is clearly mutual,” Charlotte said as she accepted a refill on her wine from Savannah. “And you’re having a baby! That’s so exciting!”
Talk moved to pregnancy, babies, and nurseries, and she was more than happy to simply sit back and listen. The fact that the guys hadn’t come back up had her wondering if they were playing. She hoped so. Like, seriously hoped so. When Julian had talked about jamming with the guys last week, he became so animated that she wished he’d be like that all the time. It was the only time he’d mentioned his music. After her one failed attempt at asking him if he was going to play again, she’d kept her curiosity to herself. Maybe tonight after they left he’d be willing to open up about it.
Savannah stood and walked over to the basement doorway, carefully opened it, and smiled.
Music.
There was music.
She closed the door and sat back down. “God bless the creator of soundproofing material. I love music and I love listening to Riley play, but sometimes it’s a little too much.”
“I’m so glad they’re playing,” Vivienne said with relief. “Matt was disappointed they only had that one day to do it. He was hoping to spend the bulk of our time here with the guys planning for a return to the studio.”
“Do you think that’s going to happen?” Paige asked no one in particular.
Then they all looked at Charlotte.
Crap.
“Don’t look at me,” she said with a nervous laugh. “The last time I asked Julian about it, he stormed off. Lesson learned.”
“He didn’t say anything after playing on Friday?” Vivienne asked.
“He’s been talking about it all week. Not a lot,” she quickly corrected, “but he’s brought up a couple of times how much he enjoyed it.” Then she paused. “And he’s humming.”
“Humming?” Savannah repeated.
“Uh-huh. Humming. You know, music. A lot,” Charlotte explained. “I can’t say with any certainty that it’s something he usually does, considering this is only the first week we’ve spent any real time together. But it was something I noticed.”
“I don’t ever remember Julian humming,” Savannah said. “And out of the four of us, I’ve known him the longest—even though we never spent a lot of time together. Dena always made sure—Ow!” She stopped and glared at Vivienne.
“I don’t remember hearing him hum whenever we were around him either,” Vivienne said and glared at Savannah. “I’d take it as a good sign.”
It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had just happened, and Charlotte thought she’d make everything easier on all of them if she just said it first.
“Look, I’m aware of Julian’s relationship with Dena and what went wrong. We only talked about it once, and I’m not going to lie to you, I went home that night and did a little internet sleuthing to find out what I could.” She took a sip of her wine. “My heart breaks for all he’s gone through and how much it’s still messing with him.”
“Don’t you think he needs to talk to someone?” Paige asked. “Like a therapist or something?”
Sighing, she stared into her glass. “As a professional, yes, I do. I think it would help him immensely if he talked about his feelings. But therapy doesn’t work for everyone, especially if they’re not ready for it. I don’t think Julian is.”
“Surely he’s talked to you about some of it—not Dena specifically, but how he’s feeling,” Vivienne commented. “It would be hard to avoid that topic considering he’s just so…you know…angry.”
“We have, and I think it’s going to take time. And it’s okay for him to take as much time as he needs. It’s not like there’s a clock ticking, right?”
Savannah, Vivienne, and Paige looked at one another and then anywhere else but at Charlotte.
That can’t be a coincidence.
“Wait, is there? Is there something the guys are waiting on Julian for?” Charlotte asked, hating herself for wanting to know.
Savannah went to grab a couple of bottles of water and put them on the table. Vivienne excused herself to use the bathroom and Paige sat there and cursed.
“Let’s talk about something else,” Savannah said when she returned. “You mentioned growing up in Malibu. Are your parents still there?”
It would have been easy just to go with the new topic, but Charlotte’s curiosity won out. “C’mon. Tell me. It probably won’t make any difference because I can’t guarantee Julian will mention it to me, but at least I can be on the lookout for any signs that he’s thinking about it. Whatever it is.”
Vivienne came back in, noticed how awkward everything still was, and threw her head back and exhaled loudly. “Okay, fine,” she said. “Shaughnessy is supposed to play at a big twenty-fifth anniversary for the record label. Julian told the guys he was retiring and to play without him. But the guys don’t want to.” She slouched down onto her chair. “Whew. I’m so gla
d it’s out there now.”
Paige and Savannah shook their heads as they looked at her. “Good thing we weren’t dealing with government secrets or anything. You caved pretty fast.”
“Can’t help it. Matt and I are all the way on the other side of the country and we feel disconnected from everything that’s going on with Julian. So, if Charlotte can help convince him to play—”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Charlotte quickly interrupted. “I’m not going to convince Julian of anything. That’s not my place. If he wants to play, then it has to be his decision and it has to come from him. Not me or anyone else trying to force him to do it.”
“I didn’t mean for you to force him to,” Vivienne clarified. “It’s just that right now you’re the only one close to him. You can maybe try to—”
“Viv, no,” Savannah said. “It’s not fair to ask that of Charlotte, and it’s certainly not fair to Julian. You remember how hard things were for Matt when you first met up with him again. He didn’t exactly appreciate you pushing him to go out in public.”
“But eventually he did,” Vivienne countered. “And then he saw how he’d been overreacting for most of the time he was in hiding.”
“It wasn’t overreacting,” Savannah said with a weary sigh. “The press was relentless with him, and the situation just needed to settle down and time had to pass. I’m sure Julian’s going to feel the same way, but like Charlotte said, it has to be his decision.”
“Maybe,” Vivienne said with a small pout.
“I love how concerned you all are,” Charlotte said, “but your concern for your husbands is obviously most important. Put yourself in Julian’s shoes. Can any of you honestly say you’d be handling it any differently or better?” When no one commented, Charlotte knew she’d made her point.
They sat in companionable silence until Paige spoke up. “Any chance we can move on to dessert? I know I’m not that far along in this pregnancy, but the baby is craving sweets. Preferably something gooey with chocolate.”
“Ooo—you’re in luck,” Savannah said as she made her way over to the kitchen island. “I got salted caramel brownies for us today. I’ve been fighting the urge to eat one all day!”
Charlotte stood and went to see if there was anything she could do to help. In no time, they were making coffee and putting all kinds of desserts on the table—brownies, pies, and cookies. Not more than fifteen minutes later, the guys came up, looking a little sweaty but with big smiles on their faces.
Julian made a beeline for her and kissed her soundly on the lips and then immediately asked what was for dessert.
* * *
Breathless and sated, Julian stared up at the ceiling as he tried to catch his breath. Beside him, Charlotte was lying on her belly doing the same. It had taken every ounce of self-control just to get home before having his way with her. The entire night he’d been thinking about all the things he wanted to do with her when they returned to his place, but after playing with the guys, one look at her had given him an overwhelming need to take her home and claim her.
They’d barely made it inside before he’d reached for her and begun stripping her.
Round one had been against the front door.
Round two had been on the kitchen counter.
After a quick, cool drink, he’d carried her to bed for round three.
He reached out and skimmed a finger down her spine and watched her shiver. Turning her head toward him, she peered through her wild mane of hair and said, “Sleep. I need sleep before we do that again.”
Julian couldn’t help but grin. Good to know she wasn’t completely shutting him down.
It was late and he knew he should be exhausted, but he wasn’t. He was invigorated. Between the music, his friends, and Charlotte, Julian felt more alive than he had in years.
Years.
And that was a damn shame.
Charlotte moved closer and snuggled up against his side. Wrapping an arm around her, he held her close and kissed the top of her head. She hummed her approval.
“Aren’t you tired?” she asked sleepily.
“A little,” he lied, knowing if he admitted how he felt, she’d feel obligated to stay awake with him. He knew she’d worked a long day and then they’d had a long night, and she needed her sleep. Tomorrow they could sleep in and he’d make her breakfast in bed. Maybe they’d even go to the farmer’s market that she’d mentioned to him earlier in the week.
She relaxed against him and her breathing was starting to even out as he kissed her again and began to hum. The melody had been in his head all week—a ballad. For almost a year, Julian had blocked music from his mind. Long before the wedding. He’d been so consumed with what was happening in his personal life that it had been impossible to think of anything other than what was going on around him.
But now the music was back, demanding to be heard.
Back at the house he was selling sat a magnificent baby grand piano. If he were there right now, he’d be sitting at it and working through the song in his head.
Instead, he hummed softly. It was so loud and strong in his head that he was surprised Charlotte couldn’t hear it with him. When he was certain she was asleep, he slid from the bed and gently covered her with the blankets before putting on a pair of sweatpants and heading out to the living room.
Grabbing a notebook, he walked out onto the deck and breathed in the beach air. He sat down on one of the lounge chairs and began to write down as much as he could about what he was hearing—he wrote out the melody, made notes on how he would like to see it orchestrated, and then played around with some lyrics. Those were always the hardest for him, but when the four of them were together, the lyrics always seemed to come.
That was why Riley couldn’t write.
That was why Matt couldn’t perform.
They were a unit, and no matter how much Julian tried to convince himself it wouldn’t bother him to retire from music, he was discovering it was a lie. He wanted to play. He wanted to write and create and record and perform for the fans.
There were so many obstacles to overcome, however. And although most of them were his own mental issues, it didn’t make it any easier to work through.
Tonight had left him feeling what he hadn’t felt in far too long—happiness and hope. Could he really keep that going? Keep the momentum and work toward getting back to that place where he had been when he was maybe twenty or twenty-five? That was when Shaughnessy was new and everything they did gave him a sense of accomplishment. Wouldn’t going back to that time be as counterproductive to him as focusing on the past five wasted years with Dena?
No. It took him less than a second to realize that. In one instance he was focusing on positive, where the other was purely negative.
Only…sometimes it wasn’t.
Tossing the notebook down, Julian leaned back in the chair and sighed. The reality was that in the beginning, things with Dena were good and the two of them were happy. At least…he was. With nothing but calmness around him and his mood better than it had been in a while, he could look back on those years with more of an open mind.
Yes, some of the time together had been good, but he knew now the exact point when he should have walked away.
And it was certainly before he was standing at the front of a church for his own wedding.
Why had he stayed with her? Why had he been so adamant to save a relationship that was so obviously toxic? Where had that overwhelming need that made him think he could fix something that should have been let go come from? His entire life, Julian had been taught to work for what he wanted, and he had. Especially with his music. He had been relentless in that pursuit to climb the ladder of success, and there had been rewards. Why had he been that relentless where Dena was concerned, when there had never been any rewards with her?
Raking a hand through his hair, he stared up at
the sky. It was cloudy and dark with not a star to be seen. How could he have been so blind for so long? How could he have given up so many years to something that left him feeling nothing but rage and emptiness? Because of his own stubbornness, he lost everything. Okay, not everything. He still had his friends, his health, and most of his finances—damn Dena for that payoff he’d made to get rid of her—but there was still a large part of himself that was missing.
“Julian?”
Charlotte’s soft voice called from behind him. He turned and saw her standing in the doorway, wrapped in the afghan from the sofa. Holding out a hand, he silently beckoned her to him. She seemed to float like an ethereal vision toward him. When she was next to the lounge chair, he carefully guided her down until she was cradled in his arms.
“What are you doing awake?” he asked softly, combing the hair that was blowing in the ocean breeze away from her face.
She kissed his jaw. “I woke up and you weren’t there.”
Everything negative that he’d been thinking was gone. This woman—this amazing woman in his arms—was all he wanted to think of. He kissed her forehead. “My brain wouldn’t be quiet, so I came out here to write a bit and then I was enjoying the peacefulness of the night.”
“Mmm… It’s good, isn’t it?” she asked. “That’s why you found me on the beach that night. Sometimes it just helps quiet my soul.”
He shifted to get them more comfortable, and when the afghan slipped, he noticed she was naked beneath it. His eyes met hers and she gave him a shy yet mischievous grin. “Had I known what was going on underneath this blanket, I would have come back inside. You must be cold.”
But Charlotte shook her head. “Not when I’m near you. You always keep me warm.”
Holding her closer, he felt so many emotions that he had no idea how to put into words. Did she have any idea how the things she said made him feel? Affected him? Did she know that every day with her had him this much closer to falling in love with her?
And even saying it in his mind didn’t scare him.
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