Our Forever

by Elena Matthews

  He gives me a smoldering stare, followed by a wink, and I almost choke on said doughnut when I swallow it down the wrong pipe at his mere words.

  Shit. I smack the front of my chest as several coughs splutter from me, and I can feel the heat of pure mortification rising from within me. I can’t believe that just happened. I feel as if I’ve morphed into my awkward teenage self, making an utter fool of myself because the presence of the guy I like is too overwhelming, so much so that I can’t even function properly. It isn’t a phase I would like to relive; it was embarrassing enough the first time around.

  It’s not until I’ve taken a few deep breaths and several sips from a nearby bottle of water that I finally manage to right myself.

  “You okay?”

  Even though I can see the corners of Drew’s lips tilted with a smile, he also looks a little concerned.

  “Yep. It just went down the wrong pipe.” I turn away for a brief moment to grab a paper towel. I place the half-eaten doughnut on top of it before taking another gulp of water.

  “So, where did you say you got these from?” Picking the doughnut back up, I take smaller, much more manageable bites, pretending that I didn’t almost choke.

  “They’re from the bakery I own.”

  I pause mid chew, stunned. “You own a bakery?”

  “Yes. It was actually my mom’s bakery, but when she died three years ago, she left it to me, and ever since, I’ve been keeping her dream alive.”

  My heart falls as the doughnut that now feels like a lump of coal becomes lodged in my throat, and I have a hard time swallowing. I drop the last piece of my doughnut on the countertop and lean an inch forward, my chest physically aching.

  “I’m so sorry, Drew.” I grimace once the words leave my mouth, and I hate myself for saying them. “Shit, sorry. You know how much I hate condolences, and here I am, giving you one. I seriously suck right now.”

  He steps in front of me and gives me a tender smile, one that pulls at my heartstrings. “It’s fine, Jo. Her death was a long time coming, and I’ve made my peace with it.”

  I wish I were so lucky.

  “Do you mind if I ask…” I say without fully finishing my question, but he understands exactly what I’m trying to say.

  “She had early-onset Alzheimer’s.”

  My heart falls for a second time.

  “That must have been a hard thing to witness.” I edge closer to him until our hands are almost touching, and the near touch is electrifying, humming between us.

  “Toward the end was the hardest, especially when she had no idea who I was. That was when I realized I’d lost her, so by the time she took her last breath, I’d already grieved for her. I was more relieved, as I knew she was no longer suffering.”

  I find myself swallowed up with emotion, and I have to blink back the tears. It wasn’t what he said; it was the heartfelt way he said it. My heart is feeling so much for this man that I’m finding it difficult not to press my lips to his. The urge is burning through me, unbearably so.

  My resolve begins to waver when he raises his hand and says, “You have chocolate right…here.” His thumb comes up to the corner of my lips.

  Then, he does the most incredibly erotic thing I’ve ever witnessed, and he pops his thumb into his mouth and sucks the chocolate off. My breathing accelerates, my pulse quickens, and everything around me blurs into the background. I struggle to contain the lust that overwhelms me, but I find myself rising onto my tiptoes, closing the space between us, and he instinctively wraps his arms around my waist.

  I’m moments away from kissing him when the sound of, “Mama,” comes from out of nowhere.

  I jump out of Drew’s hold and turn to see Junior shuffling toward the kitchen.

  “Hey, what’s up, bud?” I ask with worry as I round the kitchen island toward him, trying to ease my racing heart that seems to be going haywire at the hands of Drew.

  “I’m thirsty. Can I have a drink?”

  I smile as I brush my fingers through his messy hair, relieved he isn’t feeling sick. “Sure thing, handsome. Go back to bed, and I’ll bring you some water in a minute.”

  “Okay…” he replies.

  As he’s about to turn around, his eyes lock on something behind me. At first, I think he’s surprised to find Drew here, but when I turn around, I find that his gaze isn’t on Drew but on the boxful of desserts beside him.

  Of course.

  Junior’s eyes widen with an excited gleam flickering in his sweet greens. “Score! Are those desserts?” He rushes over to the box, and he immediately begins to drool over them.

  What can I say? This kid has more of a sweet tooth than I do.

  “Hell no,” I begin, knowing exactly what his next words are going to be.

  I can hear Drew chuckling from behind me.

  “Ah, please, Mama?”

  I have to look away when he gives me his puppy-dog eyes. I’m a sucker for those eyes, and they usually help him get his way. It isn’t going to work this time.

  “No, it’s late. Now, get back to bed, and I will bring you some water.”

  “Please?” he pleads.

  I have to give him a stern stare, one he knows well, that says, Do not mess with me. He begins to back away, his hopeful expression now sullen with a pout.

  “Fine,” he grumbles before shuffling his way back to his room.

  “Wow, you’re a tough mom,” Drew says as I make my way toward the cupboard to retrieve a tumbler.

  I glance his way with a touch of a smile on my lips, and then I turn the faucet on, letting the cool water run for a few seconds before filling up the glass. “With a six-year-old boy, I have to be. If not, he’d walk all over me.” Once the faucet is turned off, I pivot my body to face Drew. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Sure thing, sugar.”

  I have to clamp down on every muscle in my body, so I don’t shiver at his term of endearment for me as I walk away in the direction of my son’s bedroom. That single word seems to be my undoing, and the more he says it, the more and more I find my resolve fading away, making it harder for me to resist him.

  I enter Junior’s room to find him sitting up, waiting for me. I perch on the edge of the bed and pass him his drink. He takes a few sips before handing the glass back to me, and I place it on the nightstand.

  “Why’s Drew here?” Junior asks with a little confusion.

  After a month of living here, Junior is familiar with Drew, but it’s the first time Drew’s been here at such a late hour.

  “He brought those desserts for us. I was in need of a sugar fix, as I was struggling to concentrate on my work. He owns the bakery where they were made.”

  “He owns a bakery?” he questions with astonishment.

  I laugh a little. My kid is obsessed with food.

  “Wow, that’s awesome. Does that mean he’ll keep bringing us cupcakes, like the ones he sent us when we first moved here? I hope so. They were so good.”

  “I’m sure, if we ask him nicely, he will.”

  “Cool.”

  He shimmies under the sheets, and I begin to tuck the duvet tightly around his body. Once he’s all nestled into the bed, I gingerly press a kiss against his forehead.

  “I think I spotted a cupcake with your name on it. I’ll save it for you for tomorrow, okay?”

  “What? It really has my name on it?”

  And there’s my little boy.

  He sometimes acts older than his time that it blows my mind at how grown-up he is, but then he says the cutest things, and I’m reminded that my boy is still a little boy. I always worry about raising him without his dad, and his sheer intelligence, like one of an eighteen-year-old, makes me think that he’s growing up way too fast. It scares me. I want him to be a child for as long as possible in a world where Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy still exist.

  I laugh gently under my breath. “Go to sleep, baby. I love you to the moon and back.”

  He smiles sleep
ily. “I love you to the universe and beyond.”

  He closes his eyes, and seconds later, he’s out like a light. I quietly leave his room and head back in the direction of the main room. My breath falters at the back of my throat the moment Drew comes into my line of sight, and I suddenly pause in my steps.

  Holy hell.

  He’s leaning against the countertop, and I have the most incredible view of his ass. The material of his jeans hugs his perfection in all the right places. My eyes take in the rest of him, and apart from Christopher, I’ve never found a guy so beautiful, sexy, and handsome all at once.

  I know I’m stupidly attracted to him—it’s hard not to be when he has the face of a Hollywood movie star and the body of a rock god—but it’s not just his looks I find myself captivated by. He’s also been finding ways into a heart that I was convinced was darkened by death, a heart that felt numb until I met Drew. Since then, he’s been easing the ache bit by bit. I was confident I would live with that ache every day until my very last, but each day has been getting easier. I still miss Christopher, and I would walk to the ends of the earth and heaven combined if I could be in his presence again. However, I have to face the fact that it will never happen. I have to try and move on, and I feel like Drew is definitely helping me with that.

  Almost as if he senses my stare on him, he turns his gaze to me, and his lips turn up into a knowing smile. Instead of feeling embarrassed that I’ve been caught ogling him, I feel a sudden wave of confidence strike me, and I flirtatiously smile back before making my way over to him.

  “I hope you know that you’re expected to bring cupcakes with you every time you visit, right? Junior won’t stand for anything less.”

  “Is that so? He’s a demanding little thing, very much like his mother.”

  I softly laugh. “Well, he has half Donovan in his blood, so it’s pretty much a given.”

  Drew laughs along with me. I look down at the array of heavenly desserts, trying to decide which one I should devour next. Seeing two cupcakes, I grab the one with pink frosting from the box and set it aside before putting the remaining desserts in the refrigerator.

  When I turn around, I see Drew regarding me with amusement.

  “What?” I ask with a twitch of my lips.

  I pick up the cupcake again and dip my index finger into the creamy frosting before sucking it into my mouth. I have to refrain from rolling my eyes to the back of my head with pure pleasure. God, this is so good.

  I notice the way his nostrils flare and how his eyes dilate, and I have to wonder if this is as erotic to him as his action was for me earlier. My skin lingers with sweat at the thought, and I can feel my nipples tighten. After he takes a long, steady breath, his face returns to normal, and he seems a little more in control of himself.

  “I bring you treats to help with your sugar addiction, and I don’t even get a taste. It’s a little greedy, don’t you think?”

  I attempt to hide my growing smile, but when I feel my lips falter, I know I’ve failed miserably. “I don’t share,” I say simply. I swipe my finger against the soft, creamy frosting and bring it up to my mouth before sucking my finger clean. “Especially when it tastes this good. Joey doesn’t share food.”

  Drew laughs. “Friends reference?”

  “Of course. It’s the best sitcom that has ever graced our television screens. Christopher and I used to watch it all the time.” At the mention of Christopher’s name, I pause for a moment, awaiting the sadness to overwhelm me. A sensation of loss tugs at my heart a little, but for the first time, I don’t feel the excruciating every-limb-being-torn-from-my-body pain that’s held me captive in the past.

  “Are you okay?” Drew asks, his brows drawn in with concern.

  I smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. I was…” I pause, not quite sure we’re at a point in our friendship where we share our deepest thoughts. I’ve been closed off for so long that I don’t know which way is up anymore.

  He shifts closer to me with his head tilted to the side. His smoldering stare covers my entire body with flames of heat. I don’t think he realizes he’s doing it—engulfing me with his gaze. It’s a sexy trait that effortlessly flows from him. He doesn’t even have to try to be sexy; it just naturally oozes from him, a part of who he is.

  “You were what?” he presses. The two simple words are enough of a push to get me to open up.

  “I was waiting for the pain to come. It’s usually what happens when I bring Christopher up, but it didn’t come. I guess I’m so immune to the agony that, when I don’t feel it, it’s a lot more noticeable.”

  Drew answers with a look alone, and it’s one of understanding. He hasn’t been in my shoes, but he’s felt the same immense grief. I can imagine, watching your mother turn into a woman you no longer recognize, her body dying along with her memories, would have been unbearable.

  “Tell me about him.”

  “About Christopher?” I ask, surprised.

  “Yes.”

  “Okay,” I say with a hint of a smile, my work suddenly forgotten.

  I begin with how we were best friends since the age of five, and everything else from that point on readily leaves my mouth. I tell Drew everything—from memories of two friends simply goofing around to best friends who fell hopelessly in love with one another.

  Once my words come to a gradual end, a therapeutic calm eases over me, a sensation I haven’t felt in such a long time. The stress from the past five years seemingly lifts from my shoulders.

  Since we’ve been sitting on the sofa, we’ve instinctively moved closer together. It’s comforting and nerve-racking all at once—comforting because his presence is soothing, but nerve-racking because the simple touch of his leg against mine sets my body on fire.

  It doesn’t help that, every now and again, his thumb subtly caresses the bare skin exposed by the ripped section of my jeans. It’s a move that leaves me breathless while my heart pulsates wildly in my chest. His touch is addictive, and I’m hit with withdrawal symptoms when he inches his fingers away, but his touch doesn’t stray for too long.

  I feel like he’s testing the waters with me, and when I don’t push away, he pushes further, his touch lasting longer each time.

  “I’ve realized something,” I begin, leaning my head back against the sofa and tilting it to the side.

  “Okay, what have you realized?” he asks as he resumes his position with his leg resting next to mine after returning from the bathroom.

  “That you know almost everything about me, and I barely know anything about you. Tell me about the real Drew.”

  “The real Drew, huh? Are you sure that’s a can of worms you want to open?” he questions with a mock warning, his smile sardonic.

  I playfully shove his leg with mine. “Always the joker. Come on, tell me something that only a handful of people know. Something real.”

  The smile vanishes from his face, and he lets out a ragged breath as he runs his hand through his slightly unkempt hair. “Okay.”

  Regret flashes through his eyes, and I’m suddenly on the edge of my seat.

  “Before my mom became sick, I was living in LA. I was a lead singer in a band, and we were breaking through the circuit, blowing the roof off every single club we played in. During one of those gigs, we were approached by a huge record label from Seattle—Scott Records. They’d seen a few gigs on YouTube that had been filmed on fans’ phones, and they wanted to snap us up and sign us. We went through all the legalities with a lawyer, going through their contracts with a fine-tooth comb, and everything was perfect.

  “We were days away from signing when I called my mom to tell her the good news. Before I could tell her, she broke down and told me she had been diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s and couldn’t find the right time to tell me. When I learned what her prognosis entailed, I knew I had to come home—not just for her, but for my sister, Rachel, too. I couldn’t let her take the burden while I was living out my dream—not after she’d finally gone back to
college and she was making something of herself, other than being a mom. It’s only ever been the three of us. My dad was never in the picture, so I had to come home and take care of my mom.

  “I explained my current predicament to the band and the record label, hoping that perhaps we could delay the signing of the contracts by at least a couple of months. The record label wasn’t willing to wait. They wanted us to move to Seattle straightaway and begin recording immediately. They gave us an ultimatum. It was now or never. I chose never and walked away. There simply wasn’t a choice to be made. My mom came first, and she needed me.”

  My mouth falls open with shock. “Holy shit,” I manage to let out on a squeak. “You walked away, just like that?” I show with a click of my fingers.

  He simply nods.

  “What happened to the band?”

  “They continued on, and Reckless Romance was born.”

  Did I just hear him right? Reckless Romance? As in the biggest rock band in the world? Holy shit.

  I blink heavily, my mind utterly absorbed in shock. “Wow, that…”

  “Sucks. Tell me about it,” he says with a knowing smile that’s more haunted than happy. “I pretty much walked away from one of the greatest opportunities of my life, but even though I missed out on their huge success, I have no regrets. I know that, if I had continued with the band, then my regret would have been not seeing my mom before she died. Four years of success in a rock band is nothing compared to the last few months of my mom’s life.”

  Thoughtlessly, my hand slowly finds its way to him, and I clasp my fingers around his. For a couple of seconds, our attention is solely on our hands.

  When I look up at Drew, he has a smile of content on his face.

  “That was a really selfless thing you did. Not everyone would have walked away from an opportunity like that.”

  He glances at me before focusing his attention forward, wincing. “I wasn’t selfless. I was far from it. I lied to my mom about the reason I’d returned home.”

  “Why? What did you tell her?” I ask, edging even closer to him, trying to comfort him in some way. I sense this is difficult for him to talk about.