Restless (Relentless Series Book 2)

by Alyson Reynolds

  I buckled Harper into her stroller and we walked away. He laughed as I punched at his arm.

  “You. Suck.”

  His throaty chuckle filled the air. “You should have seen the expression on your face. It was pretty awesome.”

  “I cannot believe you did that.”

  “She’s right though. Life is short.”

  I sighed. “You know I’m not ready to make any decisions, Rhys. And you promised you wouldn't push.”

  He tugged the stroller to a stop and placed his hands on my hips. The stubble on his cheek brushed along my neck as he whispered in my ear. A shiver ran up my spine and I felt light headed.

  “You don’t have to decide yet, but I want you to know that I’m fighting, darlin’. You deserve the world and I want to give it to you.”

  Turning to look at him, his icy blue eyes met mine. Rhys fingers gently cupped my face as he kissed me for the first time since Vegas. My lips touched his, and I felt lost. My life was officially spiraling out of control. He pulled back quickly; we were in the middle of a park full of children. It surprised me when I missed his warmth.

  “I wanted to remind you of the chemistry between us,” he whispered.

  “I couldn't forget it.”

  We leaned back, and I tried to figure out what the hell had just happened. His hand lightly rubbed up and down my arm.

  “I need to get back to the bar, but I’ll see you later. Taylor, I don’t want to make this harder on you, but I want you to know I’m still here. I want to be with you, and I won’t be the one to let you run.”

  He kissed my forehead and tickled Harper’s feet once before walking off towards his car. I pressed my fingers to my tingling lips and sighed. Rhys wasn’t kidding when he said he was fighting. The chemistry between us was hard enough to ignore, but if he started kissing me, it would be damn near impossible.

  Gage hadn't been wrong; Rhys definitely wanted to be more than just friends.

  “Harper, Aunt Taylor’s life just got a little more interesting.”

  My palms were sweaty. How was I supposed to hold a microphone if my hands were sweaty? Maybe I should take a shot before it was my turn? Alcohol had helped the first few times I did this. Why in the hell was I so nervous?

  I hadn’t told anyone where I was going or what I was doing. When I found the little bar forty minutes from the house, I decided to go for it. There was no rhyme or reason to why I should to do this; all I knew was that I wanted, no needed, to sing. Everyone was used to me disappearing for road trips, so it wasn’t hard to sneak away. This was the most nervous I'd ever been for a performance. Even the first time I stepped in front of all those people, I hadn't been this amped with nervous energy.

  The announcer called my name and I climbed onto the small stage. I closed my eyes and starting singing “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” by Green Day. Today the song was fitting. My mood for music was never the same and it was habit to sing what I felt. Songs on my phone ranged from Motown to the current country top 100.

  My eyes flew open as I finished, and the entire bar was cheering for me. It always surprised the hell out of me when it happened. More often than not I was asked to do an encore, and it always floored me. Sure, I was talented, but I did it as a hobby more than anything else.

  I handed the microphone over to the announcer and walked straight to the bar. The bartender poured me a whiskey, and I took it gratefully. She smiled and asked me if I wanted another, which I took as her code to ask me if I was going to let anyone buy me a drink, and I told her no. Nodding once, she moved to help her other patrons.

  A man who wasn’t all that bad looking, sandy brown hair and eyes that reminded me of Jaxon’s, sat down next to me. I stared at my glass, unwilling to give him any kind of go ahead. He was brave though because he talked to me, anyway.

  “Hey, sugar. You looked good up there.”

  “Thanks,” I mumbled before taking a gulp of my drink.

  “So what’s a pretty little thing like you doing out here all alone?”

  “Really?”

  “Really what?” he asked with a slow smile.

  “That’s the best pickup line you can come up with?”

  “It’s not a line. If I wanted to use a line it would be—”

  "Just stop right there. I'll be honest with you. I don’t really give a fuck what your smooth pickup would be. I have enough man problems to put me off them forever. In fact, the bartender’s pretty hot. Maybe I'll see if she's up for some fun. You should move along, honey.”

  He grumbled as he picked up his drink and walked away. The bartender shot me a wink, and I snorted a laugh. Apparently she’d heard me.

  “You sure you don’t want another one? It would be on me,” she asked laughing. “It would help keep the pricks at bay.”

  “Thanks hon, but I’m headed out.”

  “Awe, there goes my entertainment for the evening,” she joked.

  “I’ll be back soon,” I said laughing.

  My phone rang, waking me up from an amazing dream. I swatted at it to stop, but the annoying ringing only continued. It was too early for me to talk. Emmy's name flashed across the screen and I groaned.

  “Why do you insist on calling at ungodly hours?”

  “Most people are already awake by now.”

  “On the east coast, not in California.”

  “So why is there a YouTube video of you singing in a bar coming to my email this morning? You’ve been named as the next best thing in the music industry.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Yeah, fuck. Holy hell, why haven’t I ever heard you sing before?”

  “You have.”

  “Not like this, Tay. I want to sign you.”

  “No.”

  “What? Just no?”

  “Just no,” I confirmed. “I don’t want that life, Em. Singing is a release for me and I’m not messing with it. Don't you think if I actually wanted a career singing I would have sung for you before?”

  “But you could—”

  “Nope. Don’t waste your breath.”

  She was silent for a minute. “Promise you won’t sign with anyone else.”

  “Em?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Don’t be an idiot. I’m going back to sleep.”

  I hung up, but I was too wired to fall back asleep. Damn Emmy and her tendency for early morning calls. The screen on my phone said it was six am. I groaned and cussed her under my breath again. It was time for a run.

  The barista called out my name, and I grabbed my coffee. When I turned around to leave, I ran into a solid, muscled chest. Rhys reached out and balanced both me and my precious cup before I fell on my ass. Luckily he did it without spilling a drop on either of us. I stared at him for a minute, a little off balance. I hadn't seen him since our non-date.

  “Are you okay, darlin’?”

  “Yeah, fine. I think.”

  He pulled me out of the way and handed me back my coffee.

  “How have you been? I haven’t heard from you in a few days.”

  “I’m good, just busy.”

  “I’m sorry if I came on too strong the other day. I don’t want you to forget that there are some guys out there that fight for what they want. Really, I should already be in Washington, but I’ve been putting it off to see you one last time before I left.”

  “Rhys, don’t put off work for me. I’ve already told you, I’m not ready to date.”

  “I get that, but there’s something between us. Don't you feel it too?”

  I bit my lip. “You need to go to Washington, Rhys.”

  He knew I felt whatever was between us, but I wasn’t ready and didn’t know if I would ever be ready to act on it. Rhys Brooks was a force of nature that made you forget where you stood in the forest when his full attention was on you.

  “Okay,” he said. Disappointment shadowed his expressive, blue eyes. “I’ll text you when I head back this way to see if you want to hang out.”

  I nodded.
<
br />   “Have a safe trip.”

  I would be surprised if that text ever came. Although he always shocked me, so maybe I hadn’t heard the last of him. Only time would tell. All I knew was that I needed to figure my shit out before I made any rash decisions when it came to Rhys Brooks.

  Emmy had the bright idea that we required a girl’s weekend in Vegas. I think this was more about her issues than mine, but whatever. If my friend needed me, I was there. Getting away for a few days might help me out. Plus, it was Vegas, no one ever says no to Vegas.

  The sun warmed my skin and the drink sitting on the table next to me was perfectly mixed. Life couldn’t get much better than it was right this second, that is as long as I didn’t think of anything I had going on back home. All I wanted to do was drink, gamble and spend time with my best friend during this trip. Hopefully Em had the same plan.

  A shadow cast over me and I covered my eyes as I looked up at the person in front of me.

  “You couldn’t even wait for me to get off the plane before you were out by the pool. Bitch.”

  Emmy threw her beach bag on the ground between the two chairs and flopped down.

  “Don’t act like you wouldn’t have done the same damn thing. I wasn’t about to stay in the hotel room, and I haven’t been here long enough to start gambling yet.”

  The cute cabana boy came over and asked what she wanted to drink. I smirked as I watched her try to keep the drool from running down her chin. His abs were insane, and he had that V that made smart girls stupid. She mouthed ‘holy fuck’ at me and I stifled a giggle. When he left, she fanned herself.

  “Hot. It’s so fucking hot.”

  “No honey, that’s just the man candy.”

  “You’re forgiven for coming down to the pool without me,” she said laughing.

  “Oh good, I was worried.”

  Emmy flipped me off and leaned back in her chair. Even though she was stuck in an office every day, her skin wasn’t pale and pasty. It wasn’t fair. She was the kind of girl that was perfect. Perfect body, perfect boobs, perfect ass, and she never gained an ounce of fat no matter how much she indulged in junk food and liquor. It was enough to make a girl sick.

  “So why are we in Vegas?” I asked.

  “I needed to get away. I figured you did too. So why not go together?”

  “I completely agree with this plan as long as you don’t force me to talk.”

  “As far as I’m concerned, neither one of us has issues besides making sure the little umbrellas in our drinks don’t fly away.”

  Perfect.

  We lounged around and stared at our hot cabana boy for a few hours before we were bored. By mid-afternoon I felt like I had been burnt to a crisp.

  The hotel room was amazing. Em had gone nuts when she booked the suite. The two-bedroom penthouse was beautiful, but completely over the top. I put my phone on shuffle while we got ready for the evening. For once I didn’t care about Em hearing me sing. She curled her hair while I put on my makeup. At one point, she stopped, brush halfway to her face, and listened.

  “How come I never realized you could sing so well?”

  I shrugged. “I never really showcased it.”

  “That’s putting it mildly,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “It’s a gift you shouldn’t hide. I get that you don’t want the fame and all the shit that goes with it, but damn Taylor. I wish I had that kind of talent.”

  “I was never the talented Montgomery sister.”

  “Bullshit. You just didn’t get pushed into it like Violet did. Thank goodness your mom never realized you could sing or you wouldn’t have had a choice.”

  If only she understood the lengths I went to just to make sure that didn’t happen.

  “So I’ve been going to therapy.”

  “Really? That’s great.”

  “It’s helped.”

  “Can I ask you something about Stephen without you freaking out?”

  “I don’t freak out.” She shot me a look, and I amended my statement. “I don’t freak out every time.”

  “Better.”

  “Okay, what’s your question?”

  “Why are you two still stuck in this loop? You both want to be together, but it’s like neither of you can suck up your pride enough to tell the other what you want.”

  I stared into the mirror for a second before answering. “Why do you think I went to therapy?”

  “So you want to fix things?”

  “I love Stephen. I don’t want to be broken forever and if this is what I have to do, then I’m going to. I hate that I pushed him away, but I need to fix me before I can try to talk to him about a relationship.”

  “You aren’t broken. Your mother wants you to think that, but you aren’t. She's just this psychotic person that wants everyone to be as miserable as she is.”

  “Em, to some extent I am. There’s a reason why I can’t stay in one place. And there’s a reason why I panicked when I found that ring. I just want to figure out what's driving me to push everyone away so I can have a fighting chance with Stephen. That’s if he’ll even listen when I figure my shit out. I screwed that one up. Again.”

  “Stephen loves you; he has for as long as I’ve known him and he will forgive you.”

  “It’s like I can’t just get out of my own way so I can be happy. I don’t get why I keep sabotaging my happiness. I’m terrified of losing him, but I keep pushing him away to protect him.”

  “Do you think it’s so he can’t hurt you first?” Emmy said gently.

  I stared at the wall. She was right. I was terrified that Stephen would hurt me, even if he didn’t mean to. When we ended things, I blamed him for not trusting me, but in reality it was the other way around. Holy shit. Talk about a breakthrough.

  “Come on, let’s finish getting ready,” Em said.

  I nodded, but my head was a million miles away.

  “I still love Mason.”

  I sat up and looked over at Em. She was on her back with her eyes closed. “What are you going to do?”

  “Fuck if I know. Adam is amazing, but I still have this deep connection with Mase. I want to hate him, but I can’t.”

  “You guys have been together since you were sixteen. He’s not a bad guy, Em. He’s just…lost. You can see it every time you look at him.”

  “So am I. I really thought I could move on, but I think I’m kidding myself.”

  “Have you had closure with Mason? Not just you telling him he’s a prick for not filing the divorce papers, but actually discussed everything with him?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “You can’t ignore him and hope he goes away. He will always be a significant part of your past. And exhausting yourself with work isn’t going to help.”

  “I’m not trying to hide behind my work.”

  “You didn’t even come out for Vi’s baby shower.”

  “I was busy,” she defended. I raised an eyebrow. “Fine. I concede to the work shit.”

  “Just talk to Mase.” Emmy started to cry, and I sat up. In all the years I had known her, I had only ever seen her cry two times. “Em, what’s wrong? Tell me, please.”

  “When I left Mason, I was pregnant.” My mouth dropped open. What the hell? “I spent too much time trying to figure out how to tell him, but in the end it didn't matter. The pregnancy was ectopic. I had emergency surgery, and I don’t know if I can even have kids. Adam started out as my doctor, but now he’s offering me everything. He wants to be the father to my babies. I'll need to do IVF if I want to get pregnant.”

  I moved over to her pool chair and wrapped my arms around her.

  “Why didn’t you tell me before now?”

  She shrugged. “I’ve been in denial. Lexi’s been listening to me bitch. I’m embarrassed. Take your pick.”

  “Why are you embarrassed?”

  “I don’t know.” She sniffed.

  “If you had called me, I would have been there in a second.”

  “Tha
t’s why I missed Violet’s baby shower. I just couldn’t be there. After everything, I buried myself in work and trying to figure things out with Adam. I haven’t even told Mase,” she whispered.

  “Oh, honey. You need to. That's something you can't keep from him.”

  She bit her lip. “I know, but I’m not sure how he’ll react.”

  “He’s going to be hurt that you didn’t tell him sooner, but he will support you.”

  “I wanted the baby,” she admitted.

  An onslaught of new tears hit, and I pulled her in closer.

  “I'm so sorry, Emmy.”

  We sat there, holding on to each other and letting go of all the heartache that had been chipping away at us for so long. I had been sleepwalking through life after I left Stephen; apparently Emmy had been doing the same thing since her move to New York. She was a better actress than I was though because she hid her pain from the whole world, not just from me.

  “We’re going to be okay,” I whispered. “Somehow, we'll make it through this.”

  Dinner was quiet that night. Both of us were lost in our own thoughts. Emmy was one of the few people I could truly be myself with. I was the free spirit, the world traveler, but I was also the one that kept secrets and hid from the world. Not that I ever had a problem speaking my mind, but I didn’t share everything about myself. There were so many things I kept to myself; my degree, being scared of letting someone hurt me, how much I actually loved Stephen.

  We opted not to go out that night. Instead we self-medicated in our suite. I poured the drinks stronger than what we would've gotten at any club and we watched chick-flicks back to back. By the end, we could barely crawl to our beds.

  The next morning was rough. I planned to go running, but that didn’t happen. Instead, I threw on a pair on dark sunglasses and knocked on Emmy’s door.

  “Breakfast.” I was reduced to one word sentences.

  She walked out scowling. “Too loud. Just whisper.”

  “I need pancakes.”

  She nodded and went to get dressed.

  We made our way down to the main floor and into one of the little cafés. The waitress set down our coffees, and I about cried in relief. As soon as the caffeine hit my system, I was much better. When the food arrived, I was almost human again.