Chloe's Dream

by Jennifer Ann

  The minute Landon has packed up his drums and split, Beckett’s standing in front of me with a deep frown. “Something’s different.”

  “I took the blue out,” I say, pointing to my bangs. “With Jewels and Adam’s wedding coming up, I figured I could tone my look down for a while. Their families seem like the traditional type and I don’t want to make anyone angry.” Part of it was just pure boredom the day before when Mick was closing the bar down, and I didn’t feel like getting all dolled up to sit and watch him work all night, even though I do miss him something awful.

  Shaking his head, he runs his fingertips up and down my arms. “It’s something else.”

  “It’s probably just all the excitement from hanging with Jewels. It’s ridiculous how happy her and Adam are together, I swear.” I push past him to set Blue Beauty in her case. “I have to go, the girls are waiting. We’re hanging at Kelly’s tonight to pick out some stuff online for the reception. Good thing you can do just about everything on the Internet so she doesn’t have to fly back home until the wedding.”

  “How late will you be there? Want to grab a drink when you’re done?”

  “They’re plannin’ on me staying over night.” My friends have been a great buffer for nights like this when I want to avoid being alone with Beckett.

  In the blink of an eye, he wraps his arms around my waist and nuzzles my neck. “Are you really going to Kelly’s, or is there something you’re not telling me?”

  I want to pull my hair out and scream at the top of my lungs. What will it take for Beckett to realize we’re through and I'm going to continue on without him? Prying his hands away, I step out from his hold. “I didn’t realize I was supposed to be reporting everything I do back to you.”

  “What the fuck?” he snaps, looking past me. “What’s that prick doing here?”

  My heart does a series of flip-flops. Is Mick here? He said he had to work, but maybe he was able to cut out early. Once I look into the crowd, it doesn’t take long to spot Ricky Campbell sitting at a table with my friends. How in the hell did that happen?

  Before I come up with a response to Beckett’s sudden rage, he’s off the stage and storming toward the producer. I stumble after him, calling his name, but my voice is lost to the noise of the crowd and heavy metal playing from the speakers over our heads.

  “What are you doing with this asshole?” Beckett demands just as I catch up to him. The three girls look at me with equally stunned expressions. Ricky calmly leans back in his chair as if expecting all hell to break loose and not really caring. Either that or he’s seen in all in this business and wouldn’t expect anything less.

  “He…saw us in the front row and wanted to ask a few questions about the band?” Kelly replies in a dazed “what else would we be doing?” tone.

  “Beck, stop,” I warn, grabbing his wrist. “Walk away before you make an ass of yourself.”

  With a violent wave of his arm, he flings my hand off of him. His face is bright red as he glares Ricky Campbell down. “How do we even know you’re really a producer and not some sleaze ball trying to fuck my girl?”

  I mentally kick my own ass for putting the idea in Beckett’s head. “He’s a professional in the business, Beck. It’s nothing like that.”

  Ricky, unwavering in his stare on Beckett, raises his eyebrows. “Not that I owe you anything, but you’re welcome to call the studio to verify I’m the real deal.”

  “Get the fuck outta here!” Beckett yells, pointing to the front of the bar. “I’m not going to tell you twice!”

  “Stop!” I plead, stepping in front of Beckett as if I could actually shield the producer and my friends from his outrage. “You’re making a scene! It isn’t good for the band! Think of our reputation!”

  Beckett steps around me, heading for Ricky. Luckily, Ricky seems to understand what’s happening and hops off his chair in a gesture to leave, though not quickly enough. Beckett throws his fist into Ricky’s face, sending him down on his back to the wooden floor. Several onlookers gasp loudly, Glori being among them. Jewels and Kelly scurry over to help Ricky back on his feet.

  “Beckett, enough!” I scream, shoving him with everything I have. Everyone within shouting distance has stopped what they’re doing to stare. I want to yell at them to mind their own fucking business, but our band doesn’t need any more negative attention on top of Beckett’s outrage.

  Kelly throws me a warning look. “Get him out of here before they kick him out.”

  I yank on Beckett’s hand until we’re on the move, weaving our way through the crowd that parts for us like we’re lepers. Beckett fights against me the entire way. Outside he turns at a sharp angle to jerk his hand away, knocking me down in the process. It happens so fast that I don’t have time to brace myself when I fall. White-hot pain explodes through my mouth as my face slams into the sidewalk.

  “Shit! Chloe!” Beckett comes toward me with his expression suddenly gentle. “Are you okay?”

  “Stay the fuck away from me!” I spring back to my feet, shocked to see my hand covered in blood. Bringing my hand back to my lip, I find blood oozing from where my teeth cut into my bottom lip. “I’m done with you, Beck!”

  “Would you let me look at it? You’re losing a lot of blood.”

  I step away from him. “Just go home! You need to leave!”

  “It was an accident! You know I wouldn’t have knocked you down on purpose!” Shaking his head, he tries to close in again, hands held up. “Please, let me take a look. You might need stitches.”

  “Do you understand what you did in there?” I point back at the bar, fighting back a wave of tears. “He could file assault charges against you! Have you lost your fucking mind?”

  Beckett runs his hands through his hair and begins to pace. “I couldn’t stop picturing that fucker with his hands all over you! It drove me insane! I love you, Chloe! I can’t stand to see anyone hurting you!”

  “He didn’t touch me, he offered to help me with my signing career!” I wipe some of the blood from my mouth with the back of my arm.

  “What, like you think you’d actually make it on your own?” A dark, bitter laugh rolls out of him. “Get real! You really think that asshole is interested anything other than getting you in his bed? I did you a favor by getting rid of him!”

  “You’re totally out of control!” Grabbing a handful of my hair, I growl. “Jesus, you can’t go around punching people because in your fucked up mind you see them as a threat! That’s not how life works!”

  My three friends emerge from the bar, abruptly bumping into each other when they catch sight of my bloody face.

  “I tripped,” I blurt, not completely surprised to hear the lie spilling out.

  After a delayed moment of shock, they rush to me. Glori pulls a cloth handkerchief from her designer purse and places it over my mouth while Jewels rubs my back.

  “We’re taking you to the hospital,” Kelly insists. “It looks like you need stitches.”

  Beckett comes at us with a low snarl. “No. I’ll take her.”

  As Kelly casts him a look over her shoulder, there’s a fire ablaze in her eyes. “No. You’ve done more than enough for her tonight. You better leave before that guy comes out here. He’s probably ready to kick your ass after the shiner you gave him.”

  “But—”

  “Go home, Beckett!” Kelly screams.

  Surrounded in a protective huddle of my friends, I watch as Beckett strolls away, throwing regretful, scared glances back at me.

  Four stitches, a hot shower, and two Moscow Mules later, I’m feeling a lot better and can almost forget what happened earlier in the night. We sit in the mismatched couches behind Kelly and Theo’s brownstone, loosely pursuing websites for Jewels’s wedding reception while enjoying the warm night and sharing a lot of laughs.

  It’s well into the morning hours when Theo steps out the patio doors. I look up just as Mick steps out behind him. A warm rush washes over me with the sight of Mick in his b
lack Flanagan’s t-shirt and jeans. We exchange warm smiles, though I yelp quietly when my stitches pull. When I bring my hand to my mouth, Mick gives me a sideways glance.

  Then it hits me—what if Mick had been at the bar tonight? Would Beckett have come unglued at the sight of Mick after he asked me to forget about him? How can I push Beckett far enough out of my life to make way for Mick without anyone getting hurt? My stomach roils with the truth.

  “Hey, boys!” Kelly greets them, bounding off the couch and running to her finance’s arms for a kiss. She leans back to look at Jewels and Glori. “Let’s go inside and make more drinks for everyone.” She grabs Theo by his shirt collar and leads him inside, leaving the door open for Glori and Jewels. I stand when they’re gone, ready to greet Mick.

  He rushes at me, his eyes lit with concern. “Aw, sweetheart. What happened?” One of his hands cups the back of my head while he gently skims his thumb over the unblemished part of my bottom lip. The soft touch is like a million bolts of electricity.

  “Trust me, it was pretty lame. I tripped and fell outside the bar. Guess I lodged my bottom teeth into my lip. The doctor said it was a pretty clean cut and shouldn’t leave any scarring. I was just lucky I didn’t loose a tooth, really.” I take his hand in mine and offer a tiny smile. “Would you stop looking at me like that? I’m fine, I promise.”

  “Tell me yer not in any pain.”

  Giggling softly, I wave my free hand through the air. “Trust me, I’ve had enough vodka to not feel much of anything.”

  He leans in with his eyes closed and kisses my forehead before pulling me in for a hug, giving me a delicious whiff of his manly scent. “Ya should’a called. I would’ve taken ya to the hospital.”

  “I had three very capable friends take me in,” I say with a little laugh, melting against him. The mass of his muscular chest feels fabulous even though I’m still jolted by the idea of him being the object of Beckett’s unbridled anger. “It’s okay, really. I know if you weren’t working you would’ve been there.”

  “I’m just glad yer okay.” He leans back, searching my eyes before his gaze flickers to my hair. His mouth drops. “What happened to the blue?”

  It’s hard not to laugh at his disappointment. I touch my bangs and smile. “I thought maybe I should play the rocker image back a bit for the wedding. I’ll probably put it in again at the end of summer.”

  He strokes my face affectionately, a small smile playing on his lips. “I’ve been wantin’ for days to kiss you again. Seems fate would have different plans.”

  I want to break down and sob like a child as a rush of emotions claw their way into my chest. We haven’t been left completely alone to kiss since we met. Something or someone has always been in the way. “The doctor said it should heal in five to seven days if you can wait that long.”

  “Ah, just holdin’ ya in m’ arms is like seeing the sun after a month of monsoons.” He encircles me tighter and delivers a row of kisses to my neck. “Does it hurt when I kiss ya like this?” he mutters against my skin before continuing with more kisses to my jaw.

  A blazing fire ignites in my belly. I moan quietly. His fantastical lips seem to have a direct line to my heart. “No, except that you’re going to drive me crazy and make me want to kiss you back. I don’t know that my lips can handle it.”

  “We can’t have any of that now, can we?” He hums deeply and squeezes me tight, lifting my feet a few inches off the ground. “Ah, m’ sweet Chloe. I’m so glad to have you back in m’ life. If ya only knew the things you do to me.”

  Feeling his excitement pushed against my stomach, I hold in a giggle. “I think I have a pretty good idea. You have a way of rocking my world too, you know.”

  The others eventually join us with more Moscow Mules and we spend the next hour just hanging out with the guys. Mick proudly shows our friends the ink I gave him, throwing me these ridiculous, crooked smiles that seriously make me want to shed my clothing. It’s one of the worst form of torture imaginable, knowing we can’t go off somewhere alone. Cuddled up against him instead, I eventually fall asleep in the comfort of his strong arms.

  Morning comes well before I’m ready. I faintly remember Mick rousing me long enough to help me lie all the way down next to him on the couch. When I open my eyes to see his inked arm wrapped around me and realize I’m lying with my head resting on his chest, my heart flutters.

  “Mornin’, beautiful,” he whispers in my ear, rubbing his hand along my stomach. “I believe that’s the best sleep I’ve had in m’ lifetime.”

  “Funny. I was just thinking it was the best night of my life.” I wiggle around to face him and gently brush my lips with his, hoping he doesn’t detect the small wince that follows.

  He smiles delightfully, pleased by the brief kiss. “Ya said you don’t have to work until two, right? I don’t think I can be alone with you that long and promise to be a gentleman. At least not until your lip has healed. Fancy goin’ down to meet my mum?”

  Visions of what he would do to me sends shivers down my spine. I touch his cheek and smile brightly. “Of course. I’d be honored to meet the woman who raised such a gentleman.”

  Mick waits on the patio as I quickly change and freshen up in the guest bathroom. We sneak out without waking Theo and Kelly, taking a taxi to the assisted living apartment where Mick’s mom was recently placed.

  Aside from the faint tick of an old grandfather clock in the corner, Brigid Flanagan’s apartment is depressingly quiet and carries a strong odor of something stale. It’s clean and neat, however, so I guess that’s all that matters. Mick’s mom—who he told me on the way over was surprised to discover she was pregnant with him in her forties—is a petite, older woman with graying red curls and Mick’s unfaltering kindness.

  Brigid flutters about the small apartment, refilling our cups of tea and going on about the loud neighbor next-door who likes to paint faces on china dolls. Every few minutes she stops to kiss Mick on top of his head as if he’s still her baby boy. I’m so intrigued by her spirit that I nearly forget she’s battling the onset of dementia until she stops to ask my name, then Mick’s.

  “It’s Mick, mum,” he mutters, a devastating look crippling his features for one painful second. “I’m yer son.”

  I reach for his hand and squeeze. He looks away. I turn back to Brigid. “You have a beautiful collection of tea cups. Do you mind if I take a closer look?”

  “Ya ya!” she says, clapping her hands delightfully. “Come along, m’dear, I’ll tell ya the story behind each one. Most were bought in Ireland before we had to flee.”

  Flee? Curious, I turn to Mick. He exits to the gallery style kitchen, straightening the slightly unruly mess, so I decide not to bring it up. I join Brigid who explains the pieces of her collection to me with passion stirring in her eyes. Whenever I glance Mick’s way, I’m unsettled by his rigid jaw and downcast gaze. It’s an overwhelming relief when he announces a short while later that it’s time to go.

  “You will come back again, m’ dear, won’t you?” Brigid asks, sandwiching my hand in hers. “And bring the handsome lad with ya. He reminds me of m’ husband.”

  “Of course,” I reply, smiling. “It was so nice to meet you. You have a lovely home and a very sweet son.”

  Mick hugs his mom and tells her goodbye. Though he holds my hand on the way out, he doesn’t say a word on the ride down the elevator. I wait until we’re outside before I spin him into me, wrapping my arms around his waist.

  “I’m sorry you have to see your mom like this. It can’t be easy.”

  He stiffens beneath me. “She doesn’t know m’ name, but she remembers every detail of those bloody cups.”

  “You’re right. She may not remember your name, but she still knows in her heart that she loves you, very much. I could see it in her eyes every time she kissed you.” Drawing back, I lace my fingers with his. “She said something about having to flee Ireland. What was that about?”

  “It’s not somethin’ I ca
n talk about.” His eyes look into the void behind me. “I don’t want to put ya in danger.”

  A chill runs through me. What could’ve made them leave Ireland and how would it put me in danger? “I’m sorry, Mickey.” I take his face in my hands, wishing I could absorb all his pain and heartache. “I don’t know the right words to say to make this suck any less. It’s shitty how this can happen to people. I can’t imagine how hard this must be for you.”

  His eyes flash back onto me. He twirls a strand of my hair between his fingers and softens with a hesitant sigh. “I hate havin’ to introduce m’self to my mum.”

  “You have to keep reminding yourself that she has no control over what memories are taken away from her. The best thing you can do is be kind and I know that won’t be a problem for you.” I smile and touch his lips. “You’re a soulful man with a big heart, Mick Flanagan. Probably the kindest person I’ve ever met. Just be yourself and she’ll appreciate every minute you’re with her.”

  His lips drawn up in a half-hearted smile. “Is it alright if I kiss ya now, s’ long as I’m gentle?”

  Smiling, I nod and stand on my tip-toes to meet his lips for a kiss as soft as a butterfly’s wings. A part of me floats off the sidewalk and into the clouds.

  Nothing can compete with summertime in New York. It’s a time when the city feels most alive. Outdoor concerts in Central Park, day trips to Coney Island, late night stargazing from rooftop bars, children spending their days playing in the streets—the undeniable spirit of it all becomes contagious. It also marks a year since I first met my new friends, changing my life in a way I never dreamed possible. With the added energy of only weeks to go until we head to Wisconsin for the nuptials and the fact that my sparkling-new boyfriend will be done with classes for a few months, I’m on Cloud 9.