“Let me go!” My words don’t match my actions as I straddle his lap, any effort or desire to hurt him dissolving with his touch. The spell he casts on me changes my violence into need.
He places my bound hands against his heart.
“Claire, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I made you this upset. I didn’t mean what I said back there. I just…I love you so much. I want you to have everything you deserve—a nice life, with a guy who treats you right. Asking you to stay with me regardless of how fucked up I am is selfish. Don’t you ever think your life would be easier if you weren’t in love with me?”
“No, I don’t. I’ve never thought that. I do have everything. I have everything I want. I have you. Don’t you see that? I’d rather be hurt by you than be happy with someone else. I want to be with you. That’s all that matters to me.”
Again, I feel tears spill from my eyes. There is no anger or hurt behind these tears, only my love for Jason. I place my hand against his cheek and look down. I feel ashamed that I tried to hit him. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“Look at me. What I said on the roof, it couldn’t be further from the truth. I’ll always want you by my side. I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life. I would marry you.”
I hear a thud as my heart drops from my chest and lands at me feet. I gasp. “What did you say?”
Jason smiles. “I said I would marry you, Claire. I can’t see my life any other way. I’m not saying we should do it now. I just want you to know that I want to be with you forever. When I think about my future, that’s what I see. I see you.”
I close my eyes, and he takes my face between his hands and kisses me. His lips brush mine and then they move to my cheeks, tasting my tears. He kisses each of my eyelids and tilts my head back to kiss my neck. His touch is slow and so soft. My head swims with the realization that Jason wants me, forever. My skin begins to burn.
“Let’s go upstairs,” I say and he nods.
We enter my bedroom and my hands roam all over him. We undress each other and fumble in the dark, then we get in my bed and I lower myself onto him. Our usual need to feel physical pleasure is overridden by a deep feeling of closeness. We rock against each other, tears and sweat mingling together as Jason and I reconcile. But, even in a tender moment, he can’t contain his intensity. He moves me and guides my body. His mouth and his hands never leave my skin. We remain joined together until we both feel relief. Afterward, his hands wrap around my shoulders and he pulls me against him.
Home.
Chapter Fourteen
I awake to the stabbing rays of morning sunlight, and find Jason already dressed. I roll toward his empty side of the bed. He smiles and leans down to kiss my forehead. I reach up to touch his long, sexy neck.
It’s the day of his showcase, and I burn with nerves. Jason is the picture of excitement. It’s as if the argument we had yesterday was a dream, and I’m happy to be awake. The nervous fire in my stomach flames even further when I remember our conversation in the car…and Jason’s promise to me.
“I have to go over to the space to take care of some last minute things. I’ll see you later, okay? Meet me at the Hall?” He buckles his belt and smiles at me.
“Yeah, okay. I think Lydia wants us to get ready together, so we’ll meet you there.” I yawn and stretch.
He sits on the edge of the bed and grabs my bare foot. He tickles me and I laugh, yanking my foot away. His expression becomes somber.
“Claire, I want to ask you something.”
“Yeah. Anything.”
“It’s my mother’s birthday next week. My father and Lydia usually go to visit her grave on that day. I was wondering, would you come with me…to see her?”
I sit up straight and reach for his hands. I know how big a step this would be for him, and I can’t believe he wants me to be there for it.
“Baby, of course I’ll go. I would be honored to be there.”
His eyes roam every part of my body, as if he’s making a mental picture of this moment. Then he shows me the crooked smile I’ll never tire of seeing, the smile that brightens any room he is in, and makes me smile in return.
“Good,” he says. His hand moves down to my breast, which is sheathed only in the bed sheet. He bites at my earlobe, and I feel my scalp begin to prickle, and I shiver from how good it feels.
“I’d love nothing more than to get back into bed with you right now, but I really have to go. You’re going to be great tonight, so don’t worry. We’ve practiced these songs a hundred times, and you sound even more amazing each time we do. I love you.” He pulls me into his tight embrace.
“I love you, too. I’ll see you tonight.”
The door clicks shut, and I’m left alone in my room.
“I don’t need all of this makeup,” I protest from my perch on the bathroom counter.
“Yes, you do. This is a big deal, Claire. You’re going to be photographed for articles on the event, the lighting will be strong, and all eyes will be on you, so you do need a lot of makeup. Not that you’re not naturally gorgeous, but this is a special occasion, so just suck it up and let me do my thing.”
She pulls out an eyelash curler, which I’m convinced was an instrument of torture in medieval times.
“So, what happened after you left the show last night?” she asks.
“Well, Jason and I sort of had a fight actually.” I cringe at the memory.
She drops the curler into her makeup bag and picks up the eyeliner. “About what?”
“Well, I just asked him about the future and what he sees happening with us. It was stupid, I shouldn’t have even asked.”
“I find it hard to believe that Jason would give you an answer you didn’t want to hear.”
“I was surprised, too. He said he thought I deserved better than he can give me.”
Lydia stops primping me. Her eyes crinkle together as she contemplates what I’ve said. “And what do you think?”
“I want your brother in my life. I need him to be in my life. He’s like the air I breathe, and I know he feels the same. That’s why it was so hard to hear him say what he did. It’s fine now. We worked it out.”
“Well, that’s good because tonight is a big night for him, and I know he couldn’t do it without you.” She slides a brush through my hair. “Every couple argues. The important thing is that you forgive and move forward.”
“Moving forward is exactly what I want to do.”
Little electric spiders are crawling all over my skin. Night is beginning to fall, and I pace back and forth as I smoke outside the hall while waiting for Jason. I feel him as he approaches. The connection between us sings, and I turn my head to watch him walking toward me. My eyes consume him from head to toe. His black combat boots thud against the sidewalk as he swaggers toward me, wearing jeans and a black, V-neck shirt. The sleeves of the shirt are rolled up, and his elbows stick out at his sides from where his hands are jammed into his pockets. His guitar case is slung across his back, and a cigarette dangles from his lips. The smoke causes his eyes to squint. He doesn’t see me yet.
The outside world blurs and I feel something rise in my chest. It’s love, it’s desire, but it’s more than that. It almost feels like pride. Like a victory—I’ve won some unseen competition, and Jason is my prize. Jason is mine…and he always will be.
His eyes lift and finally he sees me. I turn to face him, and the wind ruffles my frilly, black top. I feel a chill, but then he’s next to me and I feel nothing but warmth.
“I’ll never get tired of finding you waiting for me.” He grabs my hips and pulls me into him, but doesn’t kiss me. His lips linger just an inch from mine and I catch the minty, smoky scent of his breath. “Are you nervous?” he asks.
“I’m terrified,” I admit with a smile.
“Don’t be.”
He presses his sweet lips against mine for a long moment. Then we walk into the backstage area, to find the tight quarters filled with other musicians preparing fo
r the festival. I look around, feeling out of place. A blonde girl sits at a piano, chewing her nails rather than playing. An Asian kid sits with his violin across his knees, eyes closed. A long haired, metal dude jumps up and down in the corner. Each musician seems to have their own method of handling their nerves and preparing for the show.
Jason guides me through the space to a smaller room where Ben and Lydia wait. Lydia is sipping hot tea with her legs folded next to Ben’s drums. Ben lightly splashes the cymbals with his drumsticks and taps his foot against the pedal of the bass drum.
“Fucking finally,” he says when he sees Jason and me. “You psyched, Claire? I can’t wait for this shit. We’re gonna burn this place down tonight!”
Clearly, any feelings of inadequacy Ben had, regarding his abilities as a drummer, have faded away. He rises from behind the drum set and gives Jason a shoulder pound, then lifts me up and hugs me. I wrap my arms around his neck, and Jason sits on the floor beside his sister. He takes out his guitar as Ben sets me back down, and we begin to rehearse. Lydia holds my hand as we sing together, and I settle into the comfortable rhythm of the songs we’ve been practicing for weeks.
We’re up next. I feel more relaxed than I did this morning, but I’m still nervous. Being on a stage is something I’ve never done before. Jason, Lydia and Ben seem as if they were born to do this. We leave the rehearsal area and stand in the dim light behind the curtain. Jason’s eyes are sparkling with anticipation and his passion for performing. I hear his name announced and I rise up on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek. He smiles at me and I squint as the curtain opens, taking the darkness away with it. I can’t really see the crowd, only the blaring brightness of the stage lights, but I can hear them roar with applause. Jason takes my hand, and we walk out onto the stage together.
The buzz of the waiting crowd makes me freeze up. I want to hide, but I can’t. I look at Jason, and I thank God for him. He holds me up…he holds me together, whether he realizes it or not. He strides to the center of the stage and I follow behind him, taking my place on his left. Lydia is on his right. She stands like an angel demanding entry at the gates of heaven, delicate and fierce at the same time. Ben is the last to lumber out, claiming his throne behind the drum set.
I look out over the edge of the stage. Faces in the crowd become clear to me. I fight against my apprehension and focus only on Jason. He shines brighter than any light in this room. His keyboard stands in front of him and his guitars rest next to his mike. He clears his throat, and then greets the packed performance hall.
“Hello. I’m Jason Taylor.”
I bite my lip at how sexy he sounds amplified through this building, and the hum of the audience welcoming him makes me smile from ear to ear. He slips his guitar strap over his head, slings it across his muscular back, spreads his fingers, and plays a chord on the keyboard in front of him. I hear Ben splash the high-hat cymbal, and he begins with a soft beat. My heart pounds. I look to Lydia and she nods in encouragement. The spotlight falls on us, and I begin to sing, eyes closed.
My voice is shaky, but I hit my stride as we reach the chorus. I’m on key and hitting every note. I open my eyes and see Jason striking the keyboard. My confidence crawls out from under my fear. He swings his guitar around in front of his body, then takes a pick from between his lips and begins to strum the heavy chorus, then slides the guitar behind his back again and returns to playing the piano chords with one hand. I am in awe of his musical talent. Playing two instruments at once is not an easy thing to do, and a less skilled musician wouldn’t be able to meet the challenge.
He smiles at me, and it gives me strength. I feel my heartbeat return to normal, and I look around the hall. I feed on the amazing energy of the crowd. I feel a flood rushing out of me as Jason plays his guitar solo and Lydia dances in front of her mike. Jason shreds the end of the song with a complicated guitar solo, and the audience roars. I feel their love thrown at us in waves. Then, the energy of the room shifts as we finish the song and the lights dim.
Lydia and I sit down on stools behind our mikes. Only a spotlight shines on Jason. He’s dressed in black, and the light is blue and soft. He looks down as he begins to caress the strings of his guitar. The melody is low, and my heart twinges. Ben accompanies him with a gentle beat. Jason sings. His voice slices like a knife drawing blood. He bobs his head as he plays, his fingers slip across the neck of the guitar.
Even though he doesn’t look at me, I feel him trying to mend himself. His catharsis comes through his chords and his words. He’s pushing his demons away; they roll off his tongue. He looks toward me as he sings.
I see myself reflected in his eyes, the way I shield him, the way I make him better…stronger. And he does the same for me. I watch him as he sings, exposing his soul to everyone in this room. As always, Jason says more with his music than he ever could with words. A lump rises in my throat as the song ends. The stage lights come back up, and he waves to the crowd as they honor him with their screams and whistles. And Jason simply says, “Thank you.”
The lights fade again and I move to my mike. Jason moves toward his sister. She dances toward him, taking the mike with her. She sings with fire and I can almost see Lydia’s spirit glowing. She spots her dad in the audience and points toward him, smiling. He’s standing and clapping along with the song. The pride leaps off of his face as he watches his children perform. For a second I think I see my mama standing next to him, but I shake that silly thought from my brain. The song ends, and Lydia bows like a ballerina as the crowd salutes her.
Jason sets down his guitar and sits before the keys again. He motions for me to come closer to him for our duet. This is the song I feel most comfortable singing. We’ve practiced it on the bedroom floor every night for weeks. I feel no nerves or fear as I take my place beside him. I belong here. This song is only for Jason and me. He begins to press the keys, and I smile. His voice is low and gritty.
I answer, soft and sweet. When we sing together, our voices blend and become one. His low growl contrasts against my high melodic notes. He sings right to me, looking in my eyes. It’s perfection, and it’s playful. His eyes are an ocean of gratitude and happiness. He stands as the song ends, and kisses me. It feels right. In spite of the fact that we’re in front of hundreds of people, when his lips meet mine, it’s just him and me. I hear the applause and he laughs when he lets me go. He runs a finger down my cheek, and I know it must be flushed bright red.
We’re finished, and I feel amazing. Jason steps to the mike again. He gestures toward Lydia and Ben.
“I just want to thank my lovely sister Lydia, and my best friend Ben, for accompanying me today. I also want to thank my girlfriend, Claire. I want to thank her for lending her extraordinary voice to me tonight, but I have a lot more to thank her for, and I’d like to do that with one last song.”
Lydia and Ben don’t seem surprised by this at all, but I am. We only practiced those three, and I had no idea he would do this. I feel my heart flutter. I’m so touched that he’s going to sing me a song in front of all of these people. The lights fade again and Jason is cast in a golden glow. He stands tall, and alone at the head of the stage. The light catches in his hair and he strums his acoustic, and begins the song. His voice is laced with heartache.
I feel—I know, exactly what I mean to him, and our feelings are the same. He thinks I saved him, but he saved me, too. I’m reminded of the day we spent together in Strawberry Fields. I’m reminded of the first time he kissed me.
The lyrics say all the things he can’t. I wipe my eyes, and marvel at the way he looks surrounded in golden light, serene and majestic. He plucks the strings in a final guitar solo, his eyes closed. Ben plays softly in the background, holding Jason together and carrying him through the end of the song, like the friend that he is. The crowd rises before him and their ovation is deafening. Cameras flash and I walk toward him. I take his hand. I’ve never felt more love and gratitude for this man than I do right now. I’m in awe of him. I’m in
spired by him. I never want to live a day without having him at my side. Lydia and Ben take their places next to us. We join hands, take our final bow, and exit the stage.
Jason is relaxed as he drives us home with one hand. He’s looks a bit sweaty and disheveled…like after he’s shown me a particularly good time in the bedroom. I smile to myself, thinking that watching him play is not that different. He’s truly a master of both. My thoughts are drowned out by Lydia’s squealing from the back seat.
“I mean, that could not have gone better, and the crowd loved it, Jason. You should be proud of yourself. Did you see Dad? He was busting!”
“I didn’t see him, but he’ll be at Alexa’s for the after party. First round is on me, guys. I really couldn’t have done it without you.”
Once again, I’m the envy of many as I enter Alexa’s bar on Jason’s arm. It’s packed, as always. And of course, the first person I see is Tony. I brace for Jason’s reaction to his presence, squeezing his hand tighter in an effort to tether him to me—for Tony’s sake. As usual, Tony is unfazed by Jason.
“I was at the show. You sounded great tonight, Claire.” He steps toward us, and then looks at Jason. “You both did,” he clarifies, with sincerity in his voice.
Jason lets go of my hand and I cringe. To my astonishment, Jason extends his hand—not his fist. Tony smiles his bright, white, smile and shakes Jason’s hand.
“Thank you, Tony,” Jason says…and I know that he means it. He and Tony exchange a respectful look, and then Jason and I move toward the bar.
Alexa greets Jason with the same warmth she always has for him, and I get a hug, too. A beer is placed in my hand, and I follow behind Jason as he searches for his father. We wind around friends who all want to congratulate Jason. He’s charming and grateful, and I love watching him shine. All of the attention suits him. We finally make our way through the room, and I stop short.
A Flawed Heart Page 20