“See? You’re not sure, are you?” Her forehead puckered, and she crossed her arms in front of her chest like she needed support to hold herself together. My hands ached with the physical need to touch her, hold her, reassure her that I was in this for the long haul. “Just remember that you hated me a couple of weeks ago. Think of how it felt to see me standing in the office at Epic, and then tell me you still want to try this.”
I stood there for a second, torn between what I’d wanted last week and what I wanted now, knowing that she was right. We were still high off the music, and she was…well, she was Brie. Falling back into the routine of needing her was as easy as breathing, but we couldn’t erase the last three and a half years.
But maybe we could be even better if we gave this a try.
“Sometimes the beauty is found in the possibility, and that’s what we are, one giant smoking pile of maybe. And perhaps that’s where we should stay before we ruin each other.”
She turned away and booked it out, leaving me standing in the studio, watching her walk away like always.
The irony was not lost on me, but this time I wasn’t going to stand idly by while she called all the shots out of what I now knew was fear. If I wanted her, I had to show her there was nothing to be afraid of.
“It’s just a wrap party,” I told Mom as I came down the stairs. As much as I appreciated how beautiful this new house was, I still missed the one I’d grown up in. There was something wrong about the rhythm of my feet hitting these steps, the shape of the banister that didn’t quite feel right in my hands.
“Well, I’m not sure it’s a good idea for you to go,” Mom answered, her arms crossed in front of her as she waited for me near the foyer.
“Chill, Mom. Everything is great. I’m great. It’s all…great.” I put my hands on her shoulders for emphasis.
“That dress is killer,” Heather exclaimed, coming in from the kitchen.
I smoothed my hands over the black velvet top, loving the way the strapless, sweetheart neckline framed my breasts, and did a little shake that made the gold material of the short, layered skirt shimmer. “It’s because I have a fantastic stylist.”
She did a small curtsy in her hot pink mini-dress. “Why, thank you. And those are some gorgeous flowers.” She motioned to the entry table.
I gasped on reflex. There was a three-foot tall arrangement of roses and lilies, with every color rose imaginable. My hand trembled as I reached for the card, hoping that it wasn’t just my label sending their thanks for finishing the video.
Roses are for love, right?
White for reverence.
Yellow for friendship.
Pink for admiration.
Orange for desire.
I picked one of everything because I think that’s what we could be if we gave this a try—everything.
And you’ve always been that for me.
~ Hawthorne.
Everything. I felt that delicious burn in my heart, the one that always came when I thought of him, but now it was hotter, more intense. The problem with loving Hawke wasn’t that he could crush me, I already knew that, it was that even after all these years, that fire for him was still there. It had been banked, but with that first sight of him, the oxygen that filled my lungs also brought that fire roaring back to life. If it didn’t work this time, I was afraid there’d be nothing left of me but ash.
“Who are they from?” Mom asked cautiously.
“Hawke,” I answered, running my thumb over the curled ends of his letters. This was his handwriting. He hadn’t sent some assistant—he’d done it himself.
“Ah, well, that just goes with the chocolates, and the new guitar, and the slippers? Though why a young man would give a girl slippers…”
I laughed. “They’re for his house, in case my feet get cold.” Because I refused to scratch those gorgeous floors with heels.
“Well, he’s definitely looking for something.”
“Yeah, he is—me. He’s just being persistent, letting me know that he’s serious.”
“And this party is at his house tonight?”
I tucked his card into my matching purse. “It is.”
Mom sighed. “You’re sure you need to go?”
Heather rolled her eyes behind Mom and gracefully backed away, sensing the impending battle, no doubt.
“I thought this was what you wanted? Me being social? I honestly thought you’d be pretty happy. Plus, it’s an industry party, so it can’t be bad for my career, right?”
Her brow puckered. “I just don’t want you spending more time with Hawthorne Owens than you need to. I saw what happened to you when it ended last time.”
Usually her no-rockers warning came with a snap, some form of underlying bossiness. But this was a deeper sadness, a kind of lingering fear that had her fingers digging into her own arms.
“Mom. I left him last time. And I’ve regretted that decision every day since I made it. Yeah, he’s famous now, but so much of him is the same as it was then. I know what you tell me, that they think with their dicks, that they don’t care who they sleep with. That they don’t look back. I know you probably have more experience than I do given that you used to manage bands before I was born. But you have to let me make this decision. If it’s bad, then I’ll have to deal with those repercussions.”
“What if one of those repercussions is your career? We just got you back, and I don’t want to lose you. You’ve worked so hard to maintain your reputation, and being linked to a guy like Hawke is going to shred it to tatters on the front of every gossip magazine.”
I kissed her cheek and smiled. “If that’s what happens, then it happens. Madonna isn’t doing too badly with her bad girl reputation, right? Besides, I’m done worrying about what people think of me that way. That’s what got me here in the first place, the constant fear and worries about what everyone thought. No matter what I decide when it comes to Hawke, it’s going to be my choice based on my heart and nothing else.”
The knock at the door cut off whatever she would have said.
I crossed the marble entry and opened the front door to see Hawke standing there, another giant bouquet of flowers in his hand. He wore a sport coat with a button-up shirt that was open several buttons at the neck, revealing tips of the hawk wings that tattooed his chest, but the tears in his jeans kept the outfit from being too respectable. He gave me a devil-may-care grin and pushed his Ray Ban sunglasses onto the top of his head.
“You already gave me flowers,” I said, mirroring his smile. “And they’re gorgeous, by the way, thank you.”
“These are for your mother,” he answered as I moved aside so he could come in.
“Hawthorne,” Mom lamented in a disappointed sigh.
“Mrs. C, it’s good to see you again.” He handed her the giant daisies. “Thank you for letting me take Sabrina out tonight.”
“Your manners don’t fool me,” she lectured, but smiled slightly as she took the flowers. “But they are appreciated. Now, what are you doing driving? I thought the party was at your house.”
“Oh, it is. Chad has everything under control. I told him to keep the strippers to the minimum. You know, keep it classy.”
“Ahh, yes. I’ll go put these in some water.”
“That was a joke,” he called out.
“I wish it was,” she sang back.
She left us alone in the foyer, and my heart rate skyrocketed. I’d seen him just this morning as we finished the video, but we’d been keeping a respectful distance while working, both knowing the chemistry between us would send rumors flying. Not that I minded the rumors, but it would be nice to figure out what the heck we were doing for ourselves before the public weighed in.
“Nice digs,” he said, taking in the double curved staircase that flanked each side of the room.
“It’s a little overbearing, but so is she, so it works.”
“It’s…” his eyebrows lowered as he searched for an appropriate word.
; “Overdone? Gilded? Ostentatious?”
“Big. It’s big. Just doesn’t feel much like you.”
“It’s not, but she sold the old house without asking, like she couldn’t stand to own it another second. She’s happy here.”
“And you?”
I shrugged, running my hand along the banister where it looped at the bottom of the staircase. “I’m looking for my own place now that I’m stable. I think I’d like something small, maybe on the beach.”
“I hear Malibu is nice,” he said, tucking his thumbs into his pockets.
“Yeah?” My lips twitched upward. “I kind of like it there.”
We stood in my foyer, smiling at each other like idiots when Mom came back in, Heather on her heels. “Now that’s done,” she said. “Did you want to have a drink, Hawthorne?”
“No thank you, ma’am. I’m driving the ladies this evening.”
Test passed.
“Speaking of which, we should go!” Heather said, grabbing both our purses from the entry table.
“So soon?” Mom asked, her eyes panicked.
“I was kind of hoping for a tour of your bedroom, Brie,” Hawke said, flashing his teeth.
“Yep, leaving now!” I said, taking his hand and pulling him out the front door.
“I’ll be at your Aunt Celia’s until Monday if you need me!” Mom called out.
“Have fun!” I called back. She usually did that once a month, and man did I need the space.
“Thank you, God,” Heather said as we made it to Hawke’s copper Porsche. “She was seriously planning the Spanish Inquisition. Nice to see you, Hawke.”
“You too, Heather. Are you okay back there?”
“No problem,” she answered, having already climbed into the backseat and thrown a thumbs-up.
“Hi,” he said, backing me up until my butt hit the impeccably clean back end.
“Hi,” I answered, my focus centered on the soft skin of his neck and the incredible way he smelled.
“I think that might have been even more awkward than when I picked you up for prom.” He invaded my space, heightening all of my senses with his proximity and memories of that night.
“It was definitely up there.”
“Tonight? Or prom?”
“Both.”
“Yeah, well, I was a fan of how that night ended.” He raised a singular eyebrow and his gaze heated, which sent more than a flash of want through me. I’d spent that night with those eyes above me, watching my every reaction as he’d taken every logical thought from my head except what he was capable of doing to my body and how much he loved me.
I swallowed, my tongue suddenly thick in my mouth. “Well, that’s not how tonight is ending.”
He nodded, none of the playfulness leaving. “Noted.”
“Maybe we could, oh, I don’t know, go to the party?” Heather called out from the car.
“Let’s go. I’m dying to show you off.” He picked up my hand and turned it over to press a hot kiss against the delicate skin of my wrist. “You’re just as sweet as I remember.”
“Funny,” I teased. “I figured you’d have a hard time remembering me after all the girls who came after.”
“Oooh, and maybe a little sour, too,” he laughed, pressing a kiss to my palm.
“Bite me.”
“Anytime, any place, anywhere on your body.”
“Let’s go before I change my mind. I hear there might be hot rockers at this party.”
“Yeah, but I hear the hottest one is already taken.”
My heart stuttered, then pounded. “Oh yeah? Does Chad have a girlfriend?”
“Sour, indeed,” he said, shaking his head and heading for the passenger side to open my door.
“I heard Danny might be single,” I jested as I took my seat.
His mouth dropped open and he scoffed as he shut my door.
“You’re horrible,” Heather laughed.
“Hey, I said I’d think about a relationship with him, not that I’d make it easy. It’s a hard choice.”
“Trust me, you’re anything but easy, and it’s plenty hard over here,” Hawke said as he slid behind the wheel, turning on the stereo as we left.
‘Against All Odds’ started, the opening notes making my stomach tighten. God, this song reminded me of him, and it was everywhere right now.
“Have you seen this movie yet?” Heather asked.
“Nope,” he answered, shifting the gears on the sports car with an expert hand. “It’s about a guy who’s madly in love with a girl who can’t break free from her mother’s expectations.”
“Right?” Heather responded, waiting for him to continue.
“Well, I like to break out of my reality for movies. But I do love the song.” He turned it up, pushed the car into a higher gear and we sped off toward Malibu, serenaded by Phil Collins begging his love to come back to him.
He means me. And he was right. I’d let Mom’s opinion, her expertise in the music industry completely control my actions when I left Hawke. Then I let her force me back in to music before I was ready.
I watched Hawke concentrate on the road, his finger drumming the beat of the music on the gearshift. What would we have turned into if I’d stayed in L.A. instead of going to Julliard? If we’d stayed a couple when I went to New York City? Would I have been strong enough with his support to tell Mom no when the label came calling again?
But would I trade any of this? No, it wasn’t what I had planned, but it was a dream life, and sitting next to Hawke again felt full circle. I felt whole for the first time in years, and more than content…I was happy.
Which scared the shit out of me.
Contentment was level, manageable, predictable. Happiness… that was great, until it was lost. Then all bets were off.
The song switched, and the mood lightened, and I tried to relax as we rode to the party. I mentally went over answers to usual questions that were asked in conversations, thought about follow-ups, and generally tried to prepare to embarrass myself in some way, shape, or form. Besides, it was at Hawke’s house. I could run away to the studio in the basement if it got to be too much.
Hawke reached over the console and took my hand, rubbing small circles with his thumb against my palm, and my overactive brain quieted, just like always.
It was nice to know that affect hadn’t changed.
The party was in full swing by the time we pulled up. “Sorry about your hardwood,” I apologized as we walked into the house and saw all the women in heels.
And there were a lot of women. There were a lot of people, period. Every available space in Hawke’s house was filled with people, either party-goers, or wait staff.
“I never mind your scratch marks,” he said with a grin.
“Oh my God, is that Cyndi Lauper?” Heather gripped my arm.
“Yeah, she’s a friend of Chad’s. Want me to introduce you?”
She nodded slowly, transfixed on Cyndi. “I might love you forever.”
That started the pattern for the rest of the evening, with Hawke introducing me to not just the A-list at the party that I didn’t already know, but almost everyone in attendance. He never once left my side, and like he had some kind of wig-out radar, whenever I felt the anxiety start to swirl, he placed a hand on my lower back or pulled me against him.
It wasn’t just a comfort measure, but a primal display of possession, and while part of me wanted to remind him that we hadn’t declared our relationship status, the other part of me wanted to purr in satisfaction that he wanted to publically stake a claim.
“You okay?” he asked when we found a rare quiet moment.
“I actually am,” I said, squeezing his hand lightly.
“Good, because the bonfire is about to start, and things may get a little wild.”
“I wondered when the actual Birds of Prey were going to come out. This was really nice, but a little tame for what I expected.” Did he have to be so incredibly good-looking? Being at his side all even
ing, pressed up against him, touching him had my nerves firing on all cylinders.
“Well, allow me to take you to the real party,” he said, cupping my face. His eyes dropped to my lips, and they parted, my body already begging for the kiss my mind wasn’t sure my heart could take.
As if he sensed my hesitancy, Hawke pulled away, then led me outside, my hand in his.
“Wow,” I said as we walked out onto his deck, the sun setting into the Pacific. The colors in the sky were indescribable, tangerine and red weaving into the softest tapestry.
“Yeah, it’s one of my favorite parts of the house.”
“I can see why.”
The fire was already going on the beach, people surrounding it in various states of undress. Ties were tossed, coats abandoned, swimsuits favored over dresses. “I didn’t bring a suit,” I said.
“We could always skinny dip,” Hawke said as we reached the bottom of the stairs. “Ditch the shoes.”
I took off the gold pumps and Hawke backed into me, pulling my arms over his shoulders. “Hop on,” he ordered.
With a laugh, I jumped and he caught me under my butt, carrying me across the sand. “I can’t remember the last time you piggybacked me.”
“Junior year, after you sprained your ankle on the set of Hello Dolly.”
“Ooh, yeah. That was brutal,” I said, resting my chin on his shoulder. There was a makeshift volleyball net up, and some of the girls were playing in bikinis, joking when their tops slipped.
This was his normal life. Parties on the beach, rock stars by the fire, girls with boobs bigger than their brains ready to jump him on a moment’s notice. If we did this, could I fit in here? Would I be able to trust that he’d keep his hands to himself on tour? Did he even want that for us? Maybe he was just interested in a fling while we promoted ‘Requiem.’ Maybe I was jumping to all the wrong conclusions.
Maybe sucked.
“What’s wrong?” he asked nearing the fire. “You went all tense.” He turned his face toward mine and I retreated. “Brie?”
“Your life, the people, the girls…” An ugly thought popped into my head and flew out of my mouth before I could stop it. “How many of them have you slept with?”
1984: Against All Odds (Love in the 80s #5) Page 6