Tranquility

by Ava O'Shay

  “I’m not sure this tour is what you’d call a big break. It’s basically ten or so dive bars.” Quill knew it was more than that and even though they’d only done three clubs, the word had gotten out, and they had a huge following.

  “I want to stay with you.” Her voice was sad, and it broke Quill’s heart. “You need to go to Julliard.”

  “Why?”

  “It was your mom’s dream.”

  “It isn’t mine.” She played her fingers against his. “Let me stay,” she whispered. Quill lowered his head. “That’s not my call.”.”

  “Please.”

  “Dammit, Cori.” Quill tried to pull his hand back, but she wouldn’t let go. “I can’t sit here when you look at me like that,”

  “I miss my mom, and this tour is making me finally feel like she approves of what I’m doing.”

  Quill finally pulled his hand free and ran it through his hair. “Your mom would have only wanted you to be happy.”

  “Your grandma wanted the same thing.” Cori’s hand sat lonely on the table. “My dad told me you lost her last year.”

  “It’s hard to lose people you love,” Quill whispered. “You’ll never lose me as a friend. I love you, Quill.” “Not many people do.”

  Cori leaned across the table. “The people that matter love you.” She pressed her lips on his cheek. “A lot of people love you. Let them fight for you when you’re too weak to do it alone.”

  “It isn’t always that easy.”

  “When it’s worth it, it never is. Assad’s waiting to see if you think he’s worth it.” He ran his hands over his face. “I’m trying to show him because he doesn’t listen.

  Except when I yelled I hate you. He heard that.”

  “That wasn’t good.” She crossed her arms over her chest. Quill rested his chin in his hand. “No, not good.”

  “He cares about you which gives you all the power to hurt him. So he pushed you away first. I don’t get men. And to have you guys together. Wow.” She flung her hands in the air. “You both love each other, why take the chance at losing that when it’s so hard to find?”

  “You can’t lose what you can’t have.”

  She blinked her dark eyes at him. “You can have whatever you want. Just decide and go for it.”

  “Shit, woman. Stop already.” Quill huffed.

  “If I learned anything from my mom, it was the past doesn’t matter. Tomorrow, and the fact you are blessed enough to have a tomorrow, is what matters. And wasting time on stuff that doesn’t matter is a day, an hour, a minute you will never get back. I’d do anything to get a minute back with my mom. My dad would sell his soul for a second. It pisses me off you waste so much time.” Cori stood up. “I’m not leaving. I’m not wasting any more time.” She turned on her heel and walked to the back of the bus where the bunks were. “And you and Assad suck.

  You’re wasting so much time on what ifs when all that matters is now. You’re both asses.” Assad emerged from his bunk, blocking Cori’s retreat.

  Quill couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he watched Assad’s expression turn thoughtful before he pulled her close, kissed her temple, then patted Cori on the ass and sent her on her way.

  Assad made his way down the hall and settled in the same seat Cori had just vacated. This was the first time Assad had even looked at him since they had gotten on the bus. He felt bad he’d told him he hated him, but at the time, Quill had. Assad built a trust Quill rarely experienced, then pulled it out from under him. He knew with his whole heart he loved Assad. He just didn’t deserve him. At least not yet.

  “Cori wants to stay with us.” Quill rubbed his hands over the smooth surface of the table. “She gets anxious and starts to chicken out. We’ll get her there.”

  They sat in silence, listening to the highway passing by outside the window. “Can I level with you?” Assad finally said.

  Quill laughed. “Does it matter if I say no?”

  Assad gave him an easy smile. “No. I’m going to tell you something I should have told you a long time ago, but I didn’t think you were ready. I think you may be now.”

  “I don’t really want to hear it.” Quill smirked. “First you break up with me, then you become my dad.”

  “Lose the attitude and shut up. How about a clear look at your life from someone who cares about you?”

  Quill rolled his eyes. “You don’t care.”

  “I care more than you’ll ever know.” Assad’s voice caught, he cleared his throat. “To be loved is the greatest gift in life. To be able to love is the greatest gift in life.” Assad sat back and waited for his words to sink in.

  Quill raised an eyebrow. “The never ending search for love.” Assad’s smile was sad. “Yeah. I want it. I won’t deny it.”

  “Do you love me?” Quill didn’t know where that came from. What happened to giving Assad time to see him change?

  Assad closed his eyes. “I do.”

  “I love you, too,” Quill whispered. “Why won’t you let me?” “Because I don’t think you do. Not the way I need you to.”

  “How do you need to be loved?” Quill had never said the words I love you to anyone, and Assad kept telling him he was doing it wrong. “Help me.”

  “I need to be loved with passion and completeness. You only give me a part of yourself.

  The physical part. The part that doesn’t last. You don’t love me enough and that’s okay.”

  “I don’t know how to do it any other way. I need time to figure it out, and you’re not giving it to me”

  Assad’s eyes remained closed. “It’s safer with me. Our relationship is volatile in its very nature. You like that. It’s forbidden. It’s nasty to so many, and that is the kind of relationship you think you deserve. One that society frowns upon because you feel you don’t deserve the purity of a real relationship. I don’t want a relationship you’re ashamed of.”

  “I… “ Quill reached out to take his hand.

  “I took a step back. Looked at what I needed.” Assad looked down at their linked fingers. “I need more than a physical relationship with you. You allow your past to shape your life today. Your life should be shaped for the future. What you want to be one day. You are letting your past limit your life today. Limit your right to happiness. Limit how you allow yourself to love. I can’t be the only thing that makes you happy. It’s too much to put on one person.”

  “Are you channeling Buddha?” Quill shifted, uncomfortable with this conversation. “You are consumed by a worthlessness that you’re letting other people put on you.

  Figure out who you are. You’re doing the same thing Cori is.” “How do you figure?”

  Assad rubbed his thumb over Quill’s hand. “She’s letting a wish from her mother influence her future. But it isn’t the future she wants.”

  “So why do it?” Quill asked.

  “She hasn’t. She never gets on the plane.”

  “So, if she doesn’t get off the bus, what’s she going to do? Be with Pick Six?”

  “Exactly. She’s asking for our permission to stay. But she’s the only one that can make that decision. She needs to let go of the sorrow, the resentment she has for her mom and her search for ways to bury the pain.”

  “Like sleeping with you?” Quill asked.

  Assad frowned. “Yeah. When she lets herself mourn and takes control of her life, she’ll stop auditioning, stop looking for love in the wrong place, and she won’t get off the bus.”

  “You seem to have everyone’s life figured out for them. Must be great to be so perfect.” Quill regretted his words, but Assad wasn’t perfect either. He’d lived a similar life to Quill’s.

  Undecided on who he wanted to be with. Searching for a deeper connection. It seemed everyone was looking for something.

  The corner of Assad’s mouth turned up. “I googled Pick Six.” “Boring night?” Quill snorted.

  “Listen. Pick Six is a game changer. That’s what this is about. New beginnings. I know th
is thing with us ran its course.”

  “Assad… “ Quill started.

  “No. It wasn’t made to last. Maybe my purpose was to show you that what was done to you came from an evil place. Was done by evil disturbed people… but it could be beautiful, too. I hope I gave you that.”

  “Nothing… “ Quill started to argue, but Assad pressed a hand to his mouth stopping him. “You talk in your sleep.”

  Quill closed his eyes. “I told you… “

  “What, that I’d leave you? That if I knew what happened I’d walk away? Because the first night we were together? The one where I stayed up and watched you sleep? That’s when I knew. Maybe not everything, but enough. And the tattoo on your ass? The one telling the men of your past to fuck off? The day you punched me? I’m not stupid, Quill. I figured it out, and I didn’t walk away. But God dammit, Quill, you pushed me every chance you got.”

  Quill tried to pull his hand back, but Assad gripped it tighter. “You were touched by evil disturbed people who unfortunately inhabit this world. What we had, what we did, wasn’t like that. It was hard. It was awkward at times.” Assad let out a little chuckle. “But it was full of compassion and caring. That’s what love is. Whether it’s with a man or a women, it was how it should be. Don’t cheapen it. But I need something more.”

  Quill squeezed his hand. Assad was right. He didn’t think of Assad when he was fucking because he wanted a man. He thought of him because he cared and that was what turned him on. “I miss you.”

  “Don’t.”

  “I want to be with you.”

  “I know you do.” Assad smiled sadly.

  “You taught me that what I was doing was empty, and I can’t do empty with you. I don’t want to do empty with you.” Quill shook his head.

  “What other people did to you isn’t who you are. Pick Six, Quill. Catch an interception and change the course. Be better. Learn to live the way you want.”

  Assad’s beautiful amber eyes remained trained on Quill’s.

  This was Quill’s chance. The counselor told him to wait for a door to open and this was it. “Are you done with your analyzing bullshit?” Quill asked.

  Assad looked at the ceiling and shook his head in a ‘see this is what I am talking about’

  way.

  “I let you say your peace, so let me say mine.” Quill cleared his throat. “You pegged me.”

  Assad raised an eyebrow.

  “Yeah. Nail on the head and all that shit. But you don’t know the half of it.” Quill pulled in a deep breath. His past was wedged into his present and blocking his future. He needed to take away its power. “The first time a man touched me was when I was eight.”

  Assad’s stoic expression broke for a moment, but he regained it again before Quill continued. “My mom sold both Ren and I for drugs. I wasn’t getting what I needed emotionally, physically—I craved attention, and I was starving, so when they offered a chance to play catch or a candy bar to cop a feel—it was worth it to me. I didn’t understand what they were doing.

  Rubbing on me to get them off. I knew it was wrong, but I was too little to do anything. I was in survival mode.” Quill ran a hand over his face. He was going for a touchdown. Now to see if Assad cheered or pulled him out of the game. “I was twelve when I was raped the first time.”

  A tear trickled down Assad’s cheek. Quill fought the urge to shut down and tell him he didn’t need his sympathy, but the counselor said it was compassion not pity. Quill had never called what happened to him rape. She had helped him label it.

  “I fought hard for the little affection I was given. It came at a painful price, but I survived. I make shitty choices because in some part of my brain, I think it’s all I deserve, but I’ve been working on myself, and I know that isn’t true. I deserve to be loved. Loved with a whole heart and not just with the physical attention I got when I was little.”

  Assad swiped at his cheek.

  “I’ve been working with a counselor for the last few weeks. Not because I need you in my life and think you’ll come back if I do it. But because I’m tired of living the life I had. I don’t have to have you in my life, Assad. I want you in my life. And if all you are offering is a friendship then I guess I’ll take it because I just want you to be a part of me. I’m not getting off the bus,” Quill repeated the advice Assad had given to Cori. If she wanted to change her life she’d stay on the bus. “I’m the driver of this piece of shit life I’ve been given, and I’m changing routes.” He looked deep into Assad’s eyes. “I want a fucking touchdown and I want it with you.”

  .forty

  Quill Diaz

  January 24

  10:00 a.m.

  Cori had spent the morning tossing clothes and various bathroom supplies around the bus, eventually getting them into her bag. The bus had stopped at a Wal-Mart parking lot in New York, sometime in the middle of the night. They had played their last club before the scheduled drop off of Cori at Julliard and were waiting for a car to drop of the other two members of the band. The car would then take Cori to check in at her dorm.

  Quill was settled in what he liked to now think of as his spot. A comfy chair next to a small table where he had his phone charger. He’d spent the morning talking to Don.

  Cori stomped past and dropped a bag out the door without even attempting to cushion its descent. Quill tried not to laugh. She was majorly pissed and it was her own doing. No one had told her she had to get off the bus. Quill was waiting to see if she’d Pick-six and take control of her life.

  “You’re being kind of pissy this morning aren’t you?” Assad lifted his arms, trying to squeeze past her in the hall.

  “Fuck you,” she snarled.

  “Jesus Christ. I’ll change that to bitchy,” he sang after her.

  With a wicked grin Assad plopped down across the small couch across from Quill. “Did they call?” he asked quietly.

  Quill nodded. “It’s okay?”

  Quill nodded again. He and Assad had arranged for Simon to travel with them on the last half of the tour. The record company had called this morning agreeing that having a producer on the bus might move them along on getting larger venues. Something they were ecstatic about but it wasn’t getting Simon on board that had been their true intention.

  Sean started up the steps, but heard Cori start swearing again and retreated back to the parking lot.

  Quill and Assad muffled their laughter.

  “You two assholes could at least help,” she snarled.

  Quill got up and reached to take her bag, finally looking at her. Her expression broke his heart.

  Her eyes filled with tears. “Why are you making me go?” “Sweetheart, we aren’t making you do anything,” he whispered.

  “Don’t call me that.” She shook her head. “I don’t want to go. All I’ve ever wanted is to be in a band and make music. I want to be a part of this.”

  Quill dropped the bag and cupped her face.

  She started to say something, but he shushed her. “Are you willing to fight for this?” he asked. “With everything I have,” she whispered.

  “So, why are you getting off the bus?”

  Cori smacked him then threw herself into his arms. “I don’t know,” she cried.

  Simon chose that moment to appear at the bottom of the steps, suitcase in hand. “I hear you’re in need of some label supervision.” He smiled up at Cori.

  Cori looked at Quill, punched him in the arm and catapulted her tiny body into Simon’s waiting arms.

  Everything about this felt right. Everything about his new family on the bus felt right, and finally Cori was on board, willing to finally fight for the future she believed she deserved. Quill wasn’t going to let the assholes that stole his past steal his future, too.

  “Don’t fucking hit me,” he laughed before walking to where Assad stood. “If you need me to yell from the roof tops that I love you, I will, but I am not sleeping in my shitty bunk alone another night. I’m not singing that stupid
ass song to you one more night without your eyes fucking me on that stage. And I am not putting anything in the way of us. Pick six, Assad. I will take out anyone who stands in my way. My personal lineman will plow them down. I will make you breakfast, listen to your psycho-babble, and do whatever it is you need, but we’re not going to waste another minute apart.” He took Assad’s face in his hands and touched his lips to Assad’s. “I love you with all of me.” Assad stood without moving until Quill touched his lips again. “Please love me back,” Quill whispered.

  Assad sighed. “Pick fucking six,” he said.

  “Pick fucking six!” The rest of the band yelled as Assad ran his hands up Quill’s back and took his mouth in a deep kiss filled with love.

  ONE LAST THING… .

  Thanks for reading my story!

  If you enjoyed this book I’d be very grateful if you would post a short review on Amazon. Your support really does make a difference and I read all the reviews personally so I can get your feedback and make my books even better.

  Web: http://avaoshayromance.blogspot.com

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  About the Author

  After many years trudging through the social awkwardness of high school and the whirl wind of college romances I finally landed in the Seattle area writing about the hell, horror, and don’t forget hot romance of youth.

  I love all things outdoors and can be found hiking, kayaking, mountain biking, and most recently rock climbing. I love to interact with my readers and meet them at signings. Go to my blog http://avaoshayromance.blogspot.com to join my newsletter and hear about all things romance!

  Acknowledgements:

  Thank you to the team at Raven Books and Design who supports me in my endeavors, creates my covers, and like my stories.

  Kara Leigh Miller, you are the best editor and cyber friend, three books down and many more to come. Thank You to the Disenchanted for their support to keep on going when the going got tough. Without you guys, my work wouldn’t be what it is. Thank you to Michael Meadows for the awesome photo of Lance Jones to use on my cover. Thank you Lance for being a gracious person when dealing with authors and readers who love you. I also want to thank my friends for their support and encouragement to write more books so we can have more release parties filled with champagne and cupcakes.