1984: Against All Odds (Love in the 80s #5)

by Rebecca Yarros

  He went still beneath me and muttered a curse.

  “It’s okay. Forget I asked.” But could I forget? While I’d been struggling to hold myself together, he’d been at the veritable buffet that came with being…well, him.

  He turned abruptly, walking back to the house. I guess I’d asked the one no-go question here. Panic crept up my spine until words caught in my throat, incapable of passing the huge lump forming there. I’d just screwed up our night with a stupid question.

  Instead of taking me up the stairs, he pulled me behind one of the stilt-supports for the house, isolating us from the crowd.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

  He slid me off his back and then pulled me in front of him. “Don’t be sorry. You can ask me anything. There’s never a wrong question between us, and you know that. Stop treating me like I’m everyone else.”

  “Okay,” I said. Why was he so tense? So mad?

  “I’ve slept with some of them,” he admitted.

  I ducked my head, trying not to let that hurt. It’s not like we were together. “Okay.”

  “I can’t tell you how many. More than I’d like to admit, but probably less than what you’re thinking.”

  “Okay.”

  “Jesus, could you say something else?” He tilted my chin and I met his eyes.

  “I don’t know what else to say. There’s only been one other person for me since you, and it wasn’t…you know…something to write home about. You were my first—”

  “And you were mine,” he said gently.

  “And now we’re not exactly on a level playing field.” How could I even be thinking of a fling, or a relationship, or anything with him? How could I hope to keep up on the same level as those girls? “It’s a little scary to think about your numbers now.”

  He took my face in his hands and leaned in until he was all I could see, all I could feel, and smell. How easily he consumed me with a simple touch. “There have been too many women. Too many meaningless encounters. Too many faces. But there’s only been one name in my mouth, and it’s always been yours. Only yours.”

  His mouth met mine without preamble, and before I could protest, I was lost to the feel of his lips on mine.

  It was so familiar, yet new. When his tongue stroked the seam of my lips, I opened for him, and reveled in his groan as he sank into the kiss. I found the support beam against my back as he pressed against me, our bodies aligning with the fit I’d always remembered as perfect.

  It was still just as exquisite.

  His hand stroked down the side of my body, a path of fire igniting in his wake until he gripped one of my hips, pulling me even closer to him. With the other, he tilted my head for a deeper assault, exploring the recesses of my mouth, lingering like he didn’t already know every part of me.

  It was the best second first kiss in the history of kisses.

  I arched, pushing my breasts against his chest, and looped my arms around his neck. Then I kissed him back with every ounce of passion I’d missed these last three years. I kissed him the way I’d fantasized about since I walked out, with tiny nips and fuller, lingering caresses. When that wasn’t enough, I sucked his tongue back into my mouth and reveled in his groan of surrender.

  He still wanted me, and that knowledge was more intoxicating than any alcohol, more high-inducing than any drug.

  His hand shifted, running under my dress until he met bare skin where my garters attached to my stockings. “Holy shit, Brie. You’re going to be the death of me.”

  He squeezed my bare thigh, and I lifted my leg, semi-wrapping it around his hip.

  I’d almost forgotten how powerful it was to kiss Hawke, how it consumed every sense, every thought, until I was just a jumble of feelings and need. It was never just a kiss, it was a full-body experience that blocked out the rest of the world.

  A moan escaped my lips as his set to my neck, and my head rolled back against the beam. He hit the spot right above my collarbone and I whimpered.

  “I love that sound,” he murmured, then gently sucked that patch of skin so he could hear it again.

  “Hey guys—whoa!” Chad’s voice penetrated my haze of desire.

  “Go the fuck away,” Hawke said, moving so I was covered from Chad’s gaze.

  “Yeah, well, I would—I mean, good for you guys, and it’s about damn time—but Oscar Oswald is here and he’s asking for us.”

  I pushed gently against Hawke’s chest. If Oscar Oswald was here, it could mean huge things for their career. He was the biggest name going in rock. “You need to see what he wants.”

  “I want you,” he whispered, sending chills down my body that transformed to liquid heat between my thighs.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” I said.

  “Tell him I’ll be up in a second,” Hawke told Chad without looking away from me.

  “He actually wants her, too.”

  Hawke’s head snapped toward Chad. “Okay, well, then we’ll be up in a second.”

  Chad left, and Hawke turned back to me.

  “What do you think he wants?” I asked, my fingers lazily pulling through his hair.

  “No clue. We’ll get there when we get there.”

  “This is your career,” I reminded him.

  “I’ve waited over three years to get you in my arms again, and I want to make sure you’re not going to run off the minute I let you go.”

  “So you’re thinking of pinning me to the support beams all night?”

  “I’d chain you here if I thought it would keep you in my life.”

  I laughed. “That might be a little extreme.”

  “I never thought I’d get you here.” He brushed his lips over mine. “I never dreamed I’d be able to kiss you again. If I had known, I would have done so many things differently.”

  “Don’t,” I said, reaching up and kissing him. “We’re not looking back. If we do this, we only look forward. If you want to do this, that is. I don’t want to assume.”

  “Assume away,” he said, his grin lighting up my heart. “I want you. I want this, and I will take any part of you that you’re willing to give. I heard what you said last week. I’m not ignoring it. Yeah, it’s going to be tough. We’ll both have tours, careers, obligations. But I can promise that you’ll be my first priority, and that you’ll be the only woman in my life. I know you’re freaked out about the groupies, and the tours, but I’ve lost you once, and if you give this a chance, there’s no chance I’m fucking it up. It’s going to be hard to work out logistics, but it can’t be any harder on us than it has been to stay apart.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  “And I think if we’re calling each other every night, and we’re making sure we spend time together at home, that we can make it work.”

  “Okay,” I repeated, my smile growing. He’d really thought this through.

  “And we can talk to our tour managers, maybe see where we can play the same cities within days of each other so we can sneak in some time on the road.”

  “Hawthorne, I said okay,” I laughed. “You can stop selling me, because I’m ready to buy.”

  “Yes?” he asked, his eyes widening. In that moment, he didn’t look like the rock star he’d become, the world-famous guitarist. No, he was just my Hawthorne, the same boy who’d taught me to string a guitar, who’d kissed me for the first time to calm me before I performed in high school.

  “Yes. We’ll do this.”

  “And you don’t care about the tabloids? Or do you want to keep it quiet?”

  “I think we have to go public, but we need to tell the label first. I’m not sure I can stand watching those girls throw themselves at you without being able to stake my claim.”

  “Baby, you can stake me in any way you choose.”

  “Could you do it up here, though? Because seriously—Oscar Oswald!” Chad called from the stairs, obviously within hearing distance.

  “Remind me to cock block you in the next three cities,” Hawke s
napped back. “Ready?”

  “As ever,” I answered before he swept me into his arms.

  He held me high against his chest as he walked across the sand. The bonfire played with the lines and shadows of his face, and I watched the show in rapt adoration. I could stare at him forever.

  Just before we reached the stairs, in full view of everyone, he bent toward my face. “You sure about this?”

  “I’ve never been more sure of anything,” I answered, leaning up and kissing him.

  He immediately deepened the kiss, holding me tighter, taking my mouth in the same way I longed for him to take my body, with full luscious strokes and complete concentration.

  Once I was utterly lost to the kiss, he lifted his head with one more kiss. “Let’s see what Oscar Oswald wants, shall we?”

  “Let’s,” I said as he carried me up the stairs, not even winded by my weight. Truthfully, I was curious, but nothing held my attention like Hawke, and now that I had the right to touch him, I just wanted this conversation over so I could go back to the touching.

  Having left my shoes under the house, I walked barefoot into Hawke’s music room, following Chad.

  Oscar sat on the couch, the very picture of a rock god. He had a girl under each shoulder who was easily my age, even though he had to be at least twenty-five years older. His long blonde hair was in a wild I-don’t-care disarray, and his clothes were expensive, but torn in just the right places to look reckless.

  “You look familiar,” he said, peering at me over his sunglasses with piercing blue eyes.

  “She’s Sabrina Caroline,” Hawke answered easily, but took my hand in his.

  Territorial Hawke was pretty sexy.

  “Of course, and you’re Hawke Owens.”

  “I am,” Hawke answered. “I’m honored to have you in my house. What can we do for you?”

  Oscar motioned to the piano bench that faced the couch, and Hawke and I sat, his arm wrapped around me. A quick glance around the room told me all of the Birds of Prey were here, as well as a couple other guys.

  “You know we’re on the same label, right?” Oscar asked.

  “Epic,” I supplied.

  He nodded. “Eric Scott played me that little song you guys are releasing next week. ‘Requiem?’”

  “Yeah?” Hawke asked. “Sabrina and I wrote it.”

  “That’s what he told me,” Oscar pointed to Chad. “He said that’s your baby. I like it, it’s damn good.”

  “Thank you,” we both said, and Hawke’s grip tightened on me nervously.

  “I’d like to make you an offer,” Oscar said, dropping his arms from the girls and leaning forward.

  “It’s not for sale,” Hawke countered.

  He was right. That was our song in so many ways, and the idea of selling it made my stomach turn.

  Oscar laughed. “No, I don’t want to buy it. It’s not exactly my brand. But I’m playing Madison Square Garden tomorrow night to a sold-out crowd. How would you like to test it out as an opening act?”

  Sweet mercy. Madison Square Garden. Sold out. Crowds, fans, people backstage. Was I ready?

  The Birds of Prey all let out sounds of disbelief and excitement.

  “Sabrina?” Hawke asked like he could read my mind.

  Could I do that? Get back on stage and sing?

  “You won’t be alone,” he whispered in my ear. “I’ll be with you the whole way, and if this is too much, we’ll say no and walk.”

  “But this is your career,” I repeated my same line from earlier, knowing while this would be great exposure for me, it was needed exposure for Birds of Prey.

  “I already said that you’re my first priority and I meant it. If you’re not ready to get back on stage, then we won’t do it.”

  I thought of the way his touch calmed me in the crowd, on how I’d just sat down with one of the most powerful musicians in the industry without cracking a sweat, all because Hawke was by my side.

  “Okay. Let’s do it.”

  The crowd was massive, the roar reaching backstage and rumbling in my bones. Danny drummed lightly the arm of the couch, rocking back and forth with the rhythm.

  Chad checked himself out in the mirror for the hundredth time, making sure his eyeliner was right.

  I’d gotten mine on without jabbing myself in the eye, but I drew the line at the amount of makeup Chad had on his face. He could be the fashionable sex symbol all he wanted. I’d be the broody guitarist as always, and now I didn’t care what the hell anyone thought anyway. I had Brie.

  I felt the corners of my mouth tug upward as I thought that again. I have Brie.

  A month ago, we’d been in Europe, playing sold-out stadiums, drinking ourselves into oblivion, and I’d been anything but picky about the girls in my bed.

  A month ago seemed like a lifetime away.

  “I’m going to check on Brie,” I told the guys.

  “Be quick, we’re on in twenty,” Chad reminded me, moving his face to make sure he’d covered every angle.

  I nodded my assent and left, thankful that the security here was good and kept the girls off the dressing room door. Sure, some of them would make it through, but I didn’t have time to wade through the girls who wanted me for my guitar—not now that I had one who wanted me for my soul.

  I knocked on her dressing room door, and Heather answered. “She’s not ready—oh, hey, Hawke. I’m really glad to see you.”

  She opened the door and I slid inside. “Hey, baby…” my voice trailed off.

  Brie sat in front of her vanity, her hair and makeup perfect, and that bright pink dress hugging her body like a wet dream, but her eyes were vacant. Even when she looked up at me, she was a million miles away.

  “Heather, give us a while?” I asked.

  “No problem,” she answered, closing the door behind her.

  I turned Brie’s chair and knelt before her. “Hey baby, come back.”

  Her eyes found their way to mine on a sort of delay. “I can hear them from here. There’s eighteen thousand of them out there.”

  “Yeah, it’s a full house. Did you take your medication, Brie?”

  She nodded, then cringed. “I can’t even do a show without meds. What does that say?”

  “That you have a condition you need medication for. There’s nothing wrong with it, or you. If you had a headache, you’d take aspirin. If you were diabetic, you’d have insulin. This is no different.”

  “It is.”

  “Only because you let it be.” I took her face in my hands. “You live an extraordinary life that would be hard on anyone, let alone someone with your condition. You kick its’ ass every single day, and today will be no different.”

  “And I called my mother after we landed. I got the machine, but I left a message. I can’t believe I flew across the country for a show without telling her.” She tried to change the subject.

  “It’s just one song, Brie. One song that I know you love. Your mother isn’t going to care.”

  “What if I fall again?” her voice dropped to a whisper.

  “I’ll catch you,” I promised, my thumbs lightly stroking her cheekbones.

  She met my eyes, a spark coming to life. “What if I forget the words?”

  “You pulled those out of your soul, there’s no chance that will happen. But if hell freezes over and it does, then I will help you remember. I’ll only be a couple of feet away from you the entire time. You are not alone, and this is not all on you. We are in this together.”

  She nodded, coming back into herself. “I’m sorry I’m a pain in the butt.”

  “I love you just the way you are, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Her eyes widened, and I smiled despite my slip. For fuck’s sake, I was a renowned songwriter who could drop the panties of almost any girl with a song, and I’d just blurted out the three most important words in the English language without any finesse.

  “You love me?” she asked.

  “Every day of my life
since I was sixteen,” I answered, leaning up to seal that truth with a kiss. “I never stopped. No matter what happened, it’s always been you. I’ve never loved anyone else because there was never any room in my heart—you already owned the space.”

  “I love you, too,” she said, tears swimming in her eyes. “I never should have left you. We could have been happy this whole time.”

  “Shhh,” I whispered, kissing her again. “Only look forward, remember?” But would we have been happy back then? Would I have slowly ripped her apart, not realizing it? Was falling apart when we were kids the only way to come back together now that we were older? Now that I actually understood what was at risk?

  “Forward.” She nodded, wiping away a tear and slightly smearing her makeup.

  The panic started to invade her eyes again, and I knew I had to do something to get her to relax, to give her mind a chance to overrule her body.

  Or maybe just give her body the reason to let go.

  “Do you remember right before the showcase when you were sixteen?” I asked her.

  “You saw me shaking, and you kissed me, distracted me right up until I had to go on.”

  “You tasted so sweet, Brie, like the promise of everything I wanted, everything I knew I needed to survive.” I sank to my knees in front of her. “I think we should do a little reenactment, but let’s be honest, we’re not kids anymore.” I pulled her knees apart and she gasped.

  “Lift your hips,” I ordered, and she complied, her lips parted and her eyes wide.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Kissing you,” I answered, sliding her sinfully hot dress over her perfectly curved hips. Gripping her ass, I pulled her forward until she balanced on the edge of the chair. Without another word, I pushed her knees apart, slid her panties to the side, and set my mouth on her.

  She gasped, her hips bucking into my mouth, and I gripped her thighs to keep her still. Had she always tasted this sweet? Been this wet? Screw the show, I was going to live here.

  “Hawke,” she moaned, her fingers digging into my already messed up hair. “We can’t do…that feels amazing.”

  “We can,” I said against her pink flesh. “Now shut up and let me take care of you.”