Simone’s dark eyes were round with worry. “Sure.”
Brie waved to Simone over her head and then logged into her bank account as she walked. The balance wasn’t anything to get excited about, but it would get the job done. At least, it would get her there and she didn’t care about getting back. All that mattered was getting to Bailey.
~ ~ ~
Back in her room, she flipped her computer closed and then tugged her suitcase out from under the bed. She had five hours to get packed and to the airport. Her heart raced as she tossed jeans and jumpers into her bag and then paused to take the jumpers back out again. She didn’t have a clue what people in L.A. wore. She ripped her charger from the wall and tossed it on top of her bag and then zipped her cosmetics closed.
“Hey,” Jessica leaned against her doorframe. “What’s going on in here?”
“Listen, don’t kill me, but I may have to miss your show.” Brie crossed over to the closet again and grabbed a few other tops, better for warmer weather.
“O-kay,” Jess moved further into the room and surveyed the haphazard pile of clothing overflowing from her case. “Do you mind telling me where you’re going?”
“L.A. I have to go to L.A. and make sure Bailey is all right. I saw Simone and he’s the one who might be sick.” She paused and met Jessica’s eye. “I’m so sorry, but I have to go. I know I’m a complete idiot and the worst sort of friend.”
Jess took Brie’s upper arms in her hands and held her still. “Slow down. Have you thought this through? He didn’t tell you he was going and he hasn’t called. And, how’d you pay for the ticket? Better yet, when are you coming back?” She gave her a small shake. “Talk to me here, Brie.”
“I’ll be fine.” Brie tugged herself free of her friend’s grip and grabbed a raincoat from her closet. “He probably didn’t want to worry me is all and I used the money for New York for the ticket. And, I’m not sure when I’m coming back, but I’ll figure it out once I’m there.”
When Jessica’s face clouded with concern, Brie smiled to try to reassure her and then flung more stuff into her open bag. “I’m sorry, but I can’t waste any more time chatting. I have a flight to catch in a few hours. Please don’t hate me, Jess, but I need to see him.”
They held gazes a moment and then Jessica pushed her to the side and started folding. “I’ve got this. You go get what you need out of the loo.”
Relief flooded through Brie and she pecked Jess on the cheek on her way out of the room. Everything was going to work out. She’d get to the States and Bailey would welcome her with open arms and then, together, they’d figure out what to do next.
Chapter 27
The following night, Lexie opened the door to allow Bailey inside and gave him a brief hug. “It’s good to see you.” She released him and then paused to study his face, always the nurse. “How’re you doing?”
“Better than yesterday,” he offered her a sheepish grin. At least he was sober and the bruise on his check wasn’t as pronounced as it had been. The steak he’d put over it the night before had done the trick.
She pursed her lips, but didn’t press him for more information. No doubt, Oliver had filled her in on all the humbling details of their scuffle and even if he hadn’t, his sister-in-law didn’t miss much where he was concerned. Although considering the amount of time she’d spent with him in the hospital, it wasn’t a surprise she could read his emotions so clearly.
Determined to act like a semi-decent human being for the first time since his return home, he inhaled deeply through his nose. “Hey, something smells good.”
She scanned his face one last time and then apparently satisfied by what she saw, turned and led the way to the kitchen, “That would be the lasagna and garlic bread.”
“Yes, please. Sign me up.” He crossed to the kitchen sink and couldn’t help getting lost in the view while he washed his hands.
The group of scrubby trees located at the top of the cliff where his brother had chosen to build a house gave way to the smooth surface of the ocean. Light blue changing to dark blue where the sky met the sea. Though both their houses looked out at the same ocean, the elevated perspective from his brother’s made it seem new.
He dried his hands and paused beside the oven to sniff at the Italian aroma seeping out. “What can I do to help?”
“Hey, B.” Oliver’s voice pulled Bailey’s attention away from the food. “Do you want a beer or something?”
“I think I’d better stick to water, tonight, thanks.”
His brother smirked and tossed him a bottle from the fridge. He caught it and blew out a breath. Better to talk to his brother before they sat down to eat. “Hey, Oliver, can we talk a minute?”
Oliver paused with his hand on the refrigerator door and glanced at Lexie. Neither one did a great job at hiding their concern.
“Yeah, man. Of course.” Oliver recovered first and moved for the door most likely as much to appear calm as to assure Lexie. “Want to sit out on the porch?”
“Sure.”
“You two don’t need to look so twisted up. It’s no big deal.” He offered Lexie a reassuring smile. It wasn’t like his brother wasn’t going to tell her everything about five seconds after they talked, but he wanted to at least do the initial groveling in person. “I’ll come back in and help you finish up, Lex.”
She waved him off and returned to tearing pieces of kale off a stalk as he and his brother made their way outside. Sprawled beside each other on matching chaise lounges, they sat in silence while the ocean churned and a bird rode the breeze high above them. He’d missed this, the lazy days spent with his brother and the other guys from the band. How much time had they spent together over the past decade? Thousands of hours? Hundreds of thousands? More?
As the warm air rustled the leaves on the nearby trees, Bailey’s thoughts floated back to Oxford. Would he ever sit outside the Ashmolean again? Or, step inside the school? He could almost smell the interior of the buildings, leather mixed with old books. The sounds were different, too. There was no laughter or music coming through the wall in his home, no chance at camaraderie when he stepped out his front door.
“So, what’s up? You didn’t hear from the doctor yet, did you?”
“No, it’s nothing like that.” Anxiety drained out of his brother’s face and shoulders and a pang of guilt shot through Bailey. He should’ve known that was where Oliver’s mind would go. “Really, man, I’m fine. A little hungover still, but fine.”
Oliver nodded and tapped a finger against his bottle. “So, what then? Are you heading back to school?”
“No, nothing has changed except maybe you helping me get my head on straight.”
Oliver tipped his bottle in Bailey’s direction. “That’s what big brothers are for.”
“And, speaking of yesterday, listen, Oliver—”
Oliver held up a hand and sipped his beer. “Don’t even worry about it.”
“I appreciate that, but seriously, I’m sorry. I’ve just got a lot on my mind, you know?”
“Yeah, man. I know.”
Bailey’s phone rang and cut through the ease of the moment. He pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. At the sight of the familiar name and number his stomach turned over as he stared paralyzed.
When its continued ring continued to go unanswered, Oliver bumped is shoulder with his bottle. “Answer it.”
Bailey wasn’t sure how long he’d been staring at the doctor’s number when his brother told him to take the call, but long enough for Oliver to read the look of apprehension on his face.
“Hel—” he had to pause to clear his throat when it threatened to close. “Hello? Yes, this is Bailey Honeycutt. Okay. Okay, thanks for calling. Yes, I’ll be sure to keep my six-month appointment. You, too.” After he pressed end he s
agged against the cushion and let his head fall back.
“Dude.”
“I’m okay.” Bailey started laughing. “It was a false alarm. He said it was probably a mix of the dry air and stress of the end of the term, but there’s no sign of the cancer.”
Oliver bounded off his seat and yanked Bailey into a bear hug. “Thank God.”
He laughed while his brother beat the crap out of his back, both on the verge of hysterics. Oliver released him and lifted his beer into the air. “Do you hear that everybody?” he shouted into the void at the top of his lungs, “Bailey’s okay.”
While his voice echoed back to them, Lexie opened the backdoor and rushed out. “What’s going on out here?”
“Bailey’s okay. The doctor just called.”
Bailey looked away as they embraced, reminded again he was alone. Cancer or no cancer, he’d made up his mind about Brie. He wouldn’t pull her into his world when the possibility of sickness would always hang over his head. He would have to find a way to return to his life the way it had been before.
“Come on, bro. Let’s eat.”
Seated around the kitchen table with steaming lasagna heaped in front of him, Bailey’s muscles relaxed the way they hadn’t since the day of the nosebleed. He wasn’t happy exactly, but he wasn’t suspended between knowing and not knowing—a situation which made him crazy.
“Here,” Lexie smiled as she passed him the bowl of salad he’d ended up not helping her make. In her excitement, she hadn’t let him.
“Thanks.” He’d no sooner taken a bite, when she threw her first question at him.
“So, what does this mean for school? Are you heading back?”
He took a sip of his drink to try to force down the clump of kale he hadn’t finished chewing. “I’m thinking about trying to transfer to a school out here somewhere.”
“Really?” Lexie’s voice rose two octaves in her surprise.
“What?” Bailey teased. “You don’t want me back out here?”
“Of course, we do, but . . .” When his brother didn’t immediately jump in to back her up, Lexie stared holes through Oliver until he took the hint.
“No, I mean yeah.” Oliver set his fork to the side and wiped his mouth. “I think we’re surprised is all. I mean, why not finish out the year at Oxford at least? You’re already established out there.”
Bailey shifted in his seat. “Nah, I’m good here. I’ll call a realtor and let my place. It’s cool.”
Lexie opened her mouth to say more, but Oliver touched her arm and gave a slight shake of his head. They ate the rest of their dinner in silence, until finally Oliver slid his plate to the side and started talking about the new music. It was an easy enough topic to fall into, but Bailey was only half listening. Why couldn’t they see he was right about this? How could they, of all people, not understand why he didn’t want to drag anyone else into his uncertain future?
~ ~ ~
As he sped through the hills back toward his place, the moon was out in full force shining through the dark clouds. When he pulled to a stop, where he either turned right to go home or left to head toward the city, he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. The thought of going back to his empty place wasn’t appealing. Not tonight. But, he also wasn’t in the mood to sit at the bar and make small talk.
A voice in the back of his mind whispered Brie’s name.
He tapped the wheel again and closed his eyes for a moment as the memory of sitting beside her on the bench outside the Ashmolean in the dark grew strong enough he could almost taste the English air.
A horn blasted behind him and he threw the car into gear and sped toward home. No stranger was going to be enough to wipe Brie out of his mind and after the hangover he’d had . . . he grimaced. But, maybe in time he’d find a way to move on without Brie. Maybe at some point in his life he wouldn’t think of her with every breath or speak her name in his sleep.
As if the universe itself was mocking him, one of Brie’s favorite songs started on the radio. He snorted and hit the button to change the station, but it was useless, the same song was playing on the next station and then the one they’d listened to while making love was on another. Finally, he pushed the power button and gave up. How had she wound herself around every fiber of his life in such a short time?
Breathing a sigh of relief as he swung his car into the driveway, he pushed a button inside his car and waited for the gate to respond. As it swung open, he narrowed his eyes in the direction of his porch, certain he’d seen something in the beams of light cast by his car.
He squinted toward the house again. No, he wasn’t crazy, there was definitely someone there. Bailey put it in drive and sped the rest of the way until he brought the car to a screeching halt. No one was supposed to be here and no one knew the code except his brother and Rosa.
He slammed his car door closed and opened his mouth to tell off the unwelcome guest, when his mind played a trick on him. Warning forgotten, he did a double take. What the hell?
“Brie?”
She rose from her place on his front step, suitcase by her side and offered a wave. “It’s me.”
Bailey’s adrenaline spiked and he took a step forward, elation at seeing her again clouding his better judgement. But, when the weight of why he was in L.A. and not with her in the first place crashed down on him like lead, then and only then was he able to muster the sheer willpower to stop himself from going to her.
“How did you? When did you?” At the sound of her laughter, his resolve started to crumble.
“The same way anyone else would I’d imagine. I took a plane and then a cab. Lexie told me where your place was and gave me the code to the gate in case I got here before you did.”
Goddamnit, Lexie.
She hopped down the remaining step and drew closer to him, her light perfume floating to him on the Santa Ana winds. The leaves rustled around them as his worlds collided again and though he’d dreamt of having her there and showing her where he lived, this couldn’t happen. Some dreams didn’t get to come true.
He took a breath to steady himself and balled his hand into a fist at his side to keep himself in check. She needed to leave before he did something stupid and gave in to what he really wanted. “What’re you doing here, Brie?”
She balked, confused by his cool manner. “I’m here to see you, obviously.” She was close enough to touch now and tried to reach for his arm, but he stepped back. “I-I was worried.”
Worried.
Of course, she was worried. Wasn’t that everyone’s main emotion where he was concerned? He marched over to his front door and unlocked it and without glancing back her said, “You shouldn’t have come.”
Inside, he glanced around his destroyed house and then tried to kick some of the glass out of the way. What was he supposed to do now with her in California? If she’d stayed in Oxford, he wouldn’t have to explain things or push her away, but she’d followed him.
The same way he would’ve followed her.
His realization did nothing to ease his temper. He hung his head and tried to get a grip on his spiraling emotions. Being so close to her and unable to lean in and tell her everything that was pent up inside. Everything he’d wanted to say to her since he left. Pressure built inside him until he was ready to explode.
“I never expected you to live like a clichéd rock star, but I guess I was wrong.”
He turned and found her staring around at the smashed table and broken glass he hadn’t gotten around to clearing away, her artist’s eye taking in each detail.
“Let me guess, there’s a stripper in your bedroom?”
It would make things simpler for him if there was, but it was the last thing he wanted. The person he wanted was right in front of him, beautiful, smart, inspiring, but he couldn’t have h
er.
He snorted. “Hardly, and this,” he gestured toward the broken coffee table, “this was a little disagreement between family and it’s not like I was expecting you now, was I?”
“Maybe if you’d called or at least bothered to tell me you were leaving in the first place, I could’ve avoided flying all the way out here.”
He shrugged. “It was supposed to be easier this way.”
Brie’s hands sprang to her hips. “Easier for who? I just spent every last dime I have to come out here because I saw the man I love on the tele at a hospital. A man who disappeared and let me think the worst. For Christ’s sake, Bailey, I called the local hospitals looking for you.”
Shame twisted in his gut. “You shouldn’t have. In fact, you shouldn’t be here at all.” He cut past her and headed for the kitchen, “Let me at least call you a cab and get you a returning flight.”
“So, is this you ghosting me? Is this how you were going to break things off?” She shook her head and crossed her arms over her stomach. “Is that how you break off all your relationships? You go home and stop calling?”
He slammed his phone down on the counter. “No, that’s not how I . . .” He took a deep breath. “This is about giving you an out. No one wants to be stuck to a sick guy.”
Her face fell as she covered her mouth with her hand. “Are you sick again? Is the cancer back?” She held up a hand and shook her head. “No, you know what, I was afraid that might be the case so I read everything I could about APL on the flight here and the research says you can beat it again. I read about, and I may not get this right, but people have had good luck with autologous hematopoietic cell transplantation.” She ticked the name off on her fingers as she spoke. “There’s also—”
“Stop.” Bailey pressed his knuckles into the countertop and hung his head.
“Bailey, this is good news. We can—”
A Light in the Dark_Survival of the Fittest Page 22
