Across the Miles (The Not So Bad Boys of Rock Book 1)

by Rhonda James

  “No, how about now?” I gave him a toothy grin.

  “Nope, you’re going to have to wait. The timing has to be right.” He scooped up the puppy and held him high in the air. “You’re so cute. I think I’m going to call you Gibson.” He announced, bringing the pup to his face so that he could plant a kiss on his wet nose.

  “Why Gibson,” I grimaced. “That doesn’t sound like a cute puppy name.”

  “I’m naming him after my favorite guitar,” he scowled as if I should know this kind of stuff. “Duh.”

  “Duh,” I mimicked. “Sorry, I guess I’ve got a lot to learn.” I twisted my hands together, preparing myself for the conversation that I didn’t want to have. “Listen, we need to talk about something.”

  “Hey, can it wait until later? I’ve got to head over and pick up Natalie and Olivia, Travis is off running an errand for the party and mom wants to meet her over here so that they can help you get things ready.” He quickly pulled a shirt over his head and hopped on one leg as he pulled on his jeans.

  “Sure, but I really think it shouldn’t wait any longer.” I was afraid if I didn’t get it out I would chicken out later, and I wasn’t about to tell him something like this with an audience around us.

  “I’m sure it’ll keep a bit longer sweetheart. Be right back.” He gave me a quick peck on the cheek and dashed out the door, leaving me alone with my fears and a sweet little puppy named Gibson.

  “Well, little guy,” I said, picking him up in my arms. “I’m not sure what will happen after tonight but I do know that I’ll miss watching you grow into these gigantic paws.” He licked my face until there was no longer a trace of the tears that had slipped out.

  Sebastian~

  I looked around the living room filled with all the people that I loved and trusted and I couldn’t imagine sharing a moment like tonight with anyone else. This was a big night for me, and hopefully for Brooke, as I was planning to ask her to marry me. The only one missing was Jade, and according to her last text, she was almost here.

  I had been planning this moment for the last three weeks, probably longer if I was honest with myself, and keeping a secret like this from Brooke had been no easy task. We tell each other everything, that’s one of the things that I loved and respected about her, she didn’t like to play games. If something was on her mind, she would say it and expect the same of me in return. It was so refreshing, finding a woman like that, I knew how lucky I was and that was why I wanted to make her my wife.

  I fingered the ring in my pocket, slipping it over the tip of my pinky. Her hands were so tiny, and I had almost gotten caught sneaking out of the house the other day with one of her rings to take to the jeweler for sizing. This afternoon, when I made a mad dash out of the house, I was on my way to pick up the ring, the jeweler had texted me to let me know it was ready.

  I was slightly nervous about proposing, although I was fairly confident of her answer. I had called Donnie last week and asked for his blessing. He was the closest thing that Brooke had to a father figure, and I figured it was the respectful thing to do. We talked on the phone for nearly an hour, in the end I think it impressed the hell out of him that I had actually taken the step to do that. I wasn’t nervous about everyone being present; I worked better before a crowd. I just didn’t want to mess anything up, you only get one chance to make it right, and this should be a special night for her, after all that she has been through in her life, I wanted this to be a memory worth keeping.

  I heard the front door open and close, then saw Jade’s dark head of hair appear as Dek had found her and lifted her high in the air. It was so cool that the two of them had fallen in love. Who would have ever thought that my best friend and Brooke’s best friend would have ended up together? Now all we had to do was convince Jade to join us out here in California and then we would be able to double date like normal people do.

  My palms started to moisten as I steeled myself to approach her and get down on one knee. Hey, don’t judge, I would crawl on my knees if that’s what it took to get her to say yes. I made my way across the room, spotting her over by my mom and Natalie. She was holding Gibson, and he was staring back up at her with those soulful eyes, full of love, and I could totally relate to what he must be feeling at that moment. Just before I reached where they were standing, the doorbell rang.

  “I got it!” I called out, sidestepping my way through the crowd to open the door. A man stood there, clipboard in hand, holding out an envelope with the emblem of a popular airline on the cover. What the hell?

  “Max Wolf asked for these tickets to be personally messengered over to Brooke Caldwell, does she live her?”

  “Y-yes,” I stammered, holding out a shaky hand to accept the envelope. “What is this?” I signed the line marked with an X.

  “Miss Caldwell’s tickets, her flight departs on the eighteenth. Thank you, sir.” He turned and made his way down the stone path, as I stood there holding the envelope, afraid of what was inside, and too angry to turn around and face her.

  “Sebastian, who was that?” Brooke came up behind me, peering around me to look outside. When I didn’t respond, she placed a hand tentatively on my arm, and I flinched, alerting her that I was upset. She looked at what I held in my hand and then back up at me, tears in her eyes. “I can explain.”

  “That’s great, because I would love to know what this is about.” I crinkled the envelope, unable to control the shaking in my hand. By now everyone had stopped what they were doing and had turned to stare in our direction, this was not what I had pictured when I wanted the audience in the first place.

  “Can we please go somewhere alone to talk? I don’t want to do this in front of everyone.” She pleaded softly.

  “Sure, whatever.” I followed her into our bedroom, a place where I used to feel safe, now, I wasn’t too sure.

  “What is this about?” I handed her the envelope, dropping it in her hand as if it were suddenly burning my skin.

  “I wanted to tell you from the very beginning, but I didn’t know how. Every time I started to tell you, I was afraid of what would happen.”

  “So tell me already!” I demanded, voice cracking as I fought to maintain control.

  “I’m moving to London for nine months to take over Max’s restaurant.”

  “You’re what?” My mouth hit the floor. “You’re leaving me? You just got here.”

  “I know, the timing isn’t ideal, but it was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up.” She reached a hand out for mine, but I pulled away, not ready for that kind of connection, leaving her hand to drop limply at her side. “I know that you’re angry, you have every right to be upset.”

  “Upset? You think I’m upset? I’m pissed off right now, Brooke.” I turned and pulled at my hair, wishing like hell that I could rip it out. I paced the floor between us, fear pooling in my gut. “You made this decision without even talking to me. I know we’ve only been together a short time, but I would never do that to you, to us.

  “It’s only for nine month’s baby; you’re going to be away for most of that time. We survived that long apart before; we can do it again. I’m sorry that I didn’t talk to you, but this is something I have worked very hard for. I’ve never had to ask anyone’s permission to make decisions before, Sebastian, and I’m not about to start now.” Her voice remained calm, and her words were methodical. At this moment, standing right here, I hated that about her. Hated that she could appear unaffected when I felt as if my world had just come crashing down on me, not because we would be apart, but because she hadn’t respected what we had to include me in her decision. I slipped a hand in my pocket, touching the delicate ring that now sat there like a heavy stone.

  “How long have you known about this,” I grimaced, afraid of the answer.

  She swallowed hard, twisting her hands together, showing the first sign of insecurity since entering the room. I didn’t want her to be insecure or submissive, in fact, I loved the confidence she usually exuded. But see
ing her fidget like that, knowing she was nervous, gave me the hope, it told me that she still loved me.

  “I’ve known since my last day in London.” She admitted, and I cursed loudly under my breath. “I wanted to tell you, truly I did. I’ve just been scared of losing you.”

  “You wouldn’t lose me, Brooke,” I answered through gritted teeth.

  “Then why won’t you let me touch you?” I looked into her eyes, watching as tears began to form. While my heart wanted me to go to her, and hold her tight against my chest, my brain told me it needed some time.

  “Believe me, it’s killing me not to touch you, I ache for your touch every damn day. It hurts that you didn’t include me in a decision that affects both of our lives. Whether you want to admit it or not, Brooke, when you moved in with me I took that as a commitment. In fact,” I pulled out the ring, holding it out in front of me so that she could get a good look. “I was planning to propose to you tonight, in front of all our friends and family. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, beside me, not clear across the globe. I know you say it’s only for nine months, but that feels like forever to me. I’m sorry, but right now I’m not sure how to feel about all of this.” I placed the ring on the bedside table before walking out of the room. I didn’t stop until I made it past all of the staring faces, and out the door, leaving a trail of skid marks behind me as I peeled out of the drive. Where I planned on going, I had no idea.

  Brooke~

  He never came home. Not that night, or the next. The only communication we shared had been in the form of a text, and aside from the words it contained, the statement it made came through loud and clear. I had hurt him. No matter how many times I apologized, or whatever I did to prove that I had been wrong, what I did had divided us. I could only pray that the crack could somehow be mended, over time.

  I finished packing my bags. Three large suitcases now lay behind me on the bed, but I remained on the floor, my back pressed against the side of the bed, legs tucked beneath me. I hadn’t slept in two nights, afraid that I would miss him coming home or calling. He hadn’t done either one. If he had been with his family, or any of the guys, no one would tell me, but I guess that was to be expected, their loyalty was to him. I had caused this pain.

  After he walked out, I couldn’t bring myself to face anyone. Jade had come looking for me, and after my brief synopsis of what had happened, she somehow managed to get everyone to go home. The guys had stopped in to say goodbye, as had Tracy and Thomas before they left. Natalie and Nikki remained behind to help Jade clean up, while I lay curled up on the bed, crying until I didn’t have anything left to give.

  Natalie tried to comfort me, telling me that he just needed some time to think things over and clear his head. She promised me that if he stopped by she would somehow let me know that he was safe. No such message ever came.

  I opened my phone to re-read the last words he had sent, and once again, a lump formed in the back of my throat.

  Sebastian: I can’t come home, not until you leave. Watching you pack again, seeing you walk out that door one more time, it’s just too much for me. I thought that once you moved in I would never have to say goodbye again. I know that I’m supposed to be the strong one here Brooke, but I’m not. I’m sorry, but when it comes to you, I am weak.

  Brooke: But this isn’t a final goodbye. I’m coming back home. To our home. That is, if it will still be my home. We can visit one another when you’re in Europe. You can come stay with me when the tour is over. We can make this work. I love you Sebastian. I’ve loved you from the very first moment I laid eyes on you. I’m sorry that I caused you this pain. I’m so very sorry.

  Sebastian: Love isn’t the issue, Brooke. I love you too. Maybe too much.

  That was it. Nothing else had been said. I tried calling, but it always went to voicemail. I left so many messages that it finally told me that his mailbox was full. So now, I’m sitting here waiting for my ride to the airport. Sitting here in this massive house alone. I have no more tears, not now anyway, I have to be strong. Max was counting on me to do a good job, and I intended to not let him down, no matter how much I hurt. This was my dream, and I needed to see it through to completion.

  The driver called, letting me know he was out front. I gathered my bags and made my way down the long hallway, down the stairs, turning left and dropping my bags as I entered the man cave. I ran my hand along the back of the sofa where we had spent so many nights, shared so many intimate moments. Would we ever share that again? The ache I felt deep within my chest burned with an intensity the likes I had never experienced before. I slipped the ring off my finger, the one he had left behind, the one meant for me, and placed it on the table. I made my way back out, grabbing my bags, and heading out the door, locking up as I left. Natalie had taken Gibson when she left two nights ago; after I told her that I couldn’t bear to look at him as long as Sebastian wasn’t there.

  As we pulled away, I turned around, watching as the house grew smaller in the distance.

  “Goodbye,” I whispered, suddenly realizing that the dream that I had spent so much time striving for had somehow turned into a nightmare, and I wished like hell that someone would wake me up.

  EPILOGUE

  Three Months Later

  Sebastian~

  Everything inside screamed at me, begging me to wake up from the nightmare I had fallen so unexpectedly into. I slowly sat up in bed, taking a moment for my eyes to sweep across the surrounding room, another room that wasn’t my own. My legs moved slowly toward the edge of the bed, sore from overdoing it yesterday, pushing myself too hard again. It’s been that way since she left me, or I left her, I can’t remember anymore. I look around the room for my clothes; even the thought of dressing seems like too much. I pick up my phone, swiping across it to unlock it, and open up my photos, all too aware that it will only cause me further pain, but still unable to stop myself. This was how I started every morning. Every morning since the night I walked out of our house three months ago, right after I found out that she had lied to me, after I told her that I had wanted to marry her. Some days it seemed like only yesterday, other days it felt like a lifetime. I scrolled through the photos in the album labeled Honey, and found the one I had been looking for, the one that called to me, beckoning me to her, the one that had been so ingrained in my memory that I didn’t even need to see it physically, but still I looked at it. Stared at it. Touched it. Absorbed it. Loved it.

  It was a photo of us, taken on our last night together on the beach, back when she first visited. She was on my back, and we were laughing, her chin tucked closely into my neck, love in her eyes. She was beautiful. We were in love then and didn’t even fully realize how to pursue a long distance relationship, or if it would even work, but we had somehow made it happen. The ache in my chest returned, I ground the heel of my hand deep against it, trying like hell to rub it away, but it was no use. It wasn’t the kind of pain that could be physically touched or wiped away. This pain stemmed from a loss that had cut so deep I wasn’t even sure it could be removed, or if I even wanted it gone. This pain may have hurt, but it was the only physical reminder I had of her, the only tangible thing I had left to prove that our love had even existed.

  After telling her that I needed some time, we kept in touch, sometimes talking or just texting. I knew that continuing to communicate only prolonged the heartache, but I was convinced that she would change her mind, that somehow she would see that time apart only proved we belonged together, and that she would come home. The longer she stayed away seemed to only make her despise me more for asking her to choose. She may have kept something from me, but I deserted her. She had told me last month that she needed to move on, that the pain was too much to endure. So I let her go, or at least that’s what I told her, but that’s not what happened. I never moved on. I still loved her, possibly even more now that I knew she didn’t want me, which is why I kept up this painful ritual. I was afraid that if I stopped I would forget her, a thou
ght that haunted me daily. My heart ached with a deep and unyielding need to see her, to touch her, to kiss her. I went to bed each night wondering if she thought about me the way I did her. Did she wonder what I was doing? Did she even care anymore? Did she know that every day I spent without her was killing me inside, destroying the man that she had once claimed to love?

  From the moment I met her I had been drawn to her, like a powerful magnet, unable to pull away, not that I wanted to. She consumed me. My thoughts. My dreams. My hopes. My music. My entire world belonged to her. And without her next to me, it felt pointless to keep going. I threw my phone, letting it hit the wall and leaving a dent before it fell to the floor. My gaze shifted over to the table in the corner of the room, more specifically, to the bottle that sat in the middle of it, unopened and beckoning me over. An empty glass sat beside it, waiting. I had placed them both there last night, intending to give myself over to the emptiness. Without Brooke, I had nothing left to live for.

  I cracked open the bottle, the smell permeated my nostrils immediately, reminding me how long it had been since my last drink. I poured off a shot and held it out in front of me, swirling it around and watching as the light reflected off the amber liquid within the heavy tumbler. I held the glass to my lips, staring into the bottom for a few moments, trying to remember the taste of its contents and the burn that followed. I closed my eyes, prepared myself to throw back my head, and saw her face, saw the way her blue eyes sparkled when she smiled, saw the way the color flushed her cheeks when she got embarrassed, saw the way her lips parted right before she kissed me. I squeezed them tighter, trying to shut out the happiest memories of my life before I gave in and made it disappear, if only for tonight. If I couldn’t have her in my life, then I didn’t want to keep living.

  RING! RING! RING! The sound of the phone startled me, causing me to drop the glass, contents gushed out over the table before me. I ignored it, not ready to allow anyone else into my world of misery. For a moment it stops, silence returns to the space around me, and I’m faced with a decision. Do I pour another glass? Just then, the phone rings again, and I slowly rise out of the chair and make my way over to where it lies on the floor. I pick it up and turn it over, half expecting it to be Travis or Dek reminding me of our rehearsal time, but it’s neither of them. In fact, it’s the last person I would have expected, but the only one I want to talk to right now. The only voice I ever long to hear. I swipe a finger across the screen and hold the phone to my ear, unaware that I have stopped breathing.