REBUILDING FOREVER

by Natalie J. Damschroder

  "Of course there are, sir." Edward glanced over his shoulder, then said, even more softly, "Mile-high clubbing is most definitely frowned upon." He winked back at Julian and straightened. Jules roared with laughter.

  Seth kept his reaction to an eye roll and pulled the magazine out of the pocket on the seat back. Next to him, Julian thanked Edward for his hospitality and closed his eyes, folding his hands across his stomach. Good. Maybe he'd fall asleep and leave Seth alone for most of the flight.

  But it wasn't to be. As soon as they were in the air, Julian leaned close to him.

  "So what's going on?"

  Seth gave him a pointed look. He wasn't talking about anything in this public a place.

  "There's no one for two rows in front or back of us. The sweetheart across the aisle can't hear over the engines." His steely eyes bore into Seth. "Now tell me why you're acting like you've been buggered by a fire poker."

  "I'm not." He shoved the mag back in the pocket, fully aware he sounded like a child.

  "You using again?"

  Seth jerked, then bit down on his desire to shout a denial. It was a reasonable question. "No." He flopped back against the seat.

  "You want to be using?"

  That was an even better question, and one Seth made himself consider carefully. "No," he finally said again, and the tension in him eased slightly. "Surprisingly, I'm not even thinking about it. Haven't even wanted a fag in ages."

  "So?"

  He rubbed his hand over his face and leaned his head back. "I don't know."

  "Is it Cassie?"

  "Partly."

  "What's going on? Do you want me to talk to her?"

  It wasn't an idle offer. Probably by virtue of their mutual caregiving roles with the old Seth, they had a bond most best mates and wives wouldn't have developed. Jules cared about Cassie, and vice versa, and they knew each other well. And respected each other.

  "Thanks, but it's not necessary. She's not doing anything. It's just...everything."

  Jules shook his head. "I thought everything was going pretty well. The album, the publicity, the fans--and you're getting married in a few days."

  Cold and heat warred in Seth's middle. Thanks to rehab, he'd grown unafraid of analyzing his feelings. Mostly. He knew the cold was fear, the warmth hope. It didn't take a shrink to figure out that he was afraid the wedding wouldn't happen.

  "Cassie's not into the life like she was last time," he said. "All the crap is getting to her."

  "Yeah, you said. So?" Jules shifted and tried to stretch his legs out further. "Every relationship has its bugs. You deal with it best you can."

  "Sometimes by leaving it."

  Julian snorted. "You think Cassie's going to leave you over a few paparazzi and a news story?"

  It sounded ridiculous when he said it. "I guess not."

  "Then what are you afraid of?"

  "I'm afraid--" He swallowed. Just saying those two words made the emotion stronger. "I'm afraid the crap will pile up high enough to overwhelm her tolerance. And she'll bail."

  "Aw, Seth?" Julian shook his head against the head rest. "You're a mess, mate. She's told you how many times that it won't happen."

  "Saying and doing are two different things."

  "You're mental."

  "She swore once to stay with me through anything. And then she left." That night flashed through his brain. Cassie's face, streaked with tears and makeup, but hard with determination. His despair, the only thing that cut through the haze of the rest of his memories. He'd never been as messed up, before or since, as he'd gotten that night.

  "Fuck, Seth, you're going to put yourself in the loony-bin, you keep thinking like that. It was fifteen years ago. Forget it. Concentrate on now."

  He was trying.

  * * * *

  After a frightfully expensive call to Cassie on the plane's in-seat phone, Seth settled enough to sleep. She'd been calm, telling him everything was under control and all they'd have to do once they arrived was lounge on the beach and drink non-alcoholic Volcanoes. He dozed to the hum of the jet engines, at first hyperaware of movement and sounds around him, then dropping deeper.

  First he dreamed about soft sand, salty breezes, and Cassie, naked with him on the private beach where they would be honeymooning.

  Then he was back in London, arguing with Pete about the order of the tracks on the new album.

  On stage, belting out "Lost Our Forever" with fucking tears streaming down his cheeks, matching ones on Cassie's as the audience faded away and all he could see was her.

  Back stage, in a rank, dark room. Collapsing onto a springy sofa that already had a body on it. Begging for something.

  Begging for Julian.

  "I'm here, mate."

  "I need it, Juli." His dick grew hard with his desperation. Somewhere he knew this was wrong, that he couldn't kill the pain with sex, not even this kind of sex. But he couldn't stand feeling this way. He needed the escape.

  "Are you sure?" Julian crowded close to him, his heat and scent familiar. Comforting.

  "Yes."

  Julian's hand went unerringly to Seth's dick under the leather, even in the dark. He didn't move it for a moment, just let it lie there, let Seth change his mind if he wanted to. But Seth lifted his hips, pressed his friend's hand down against him, and moaned.

  "All right, mate. If you're sure." Julian undid Seth's pants with deft fingers. Seth parted his legs so Julian could kneel between them and let his mind fog out--more than it already was--so that all he thought about, all he concentrated on, was the throbbing of his dick and the warmth of Julian's hand, stroking him.

  "Jesus." It had never been this good. He dug his hands into the cushions and pumped his hips. Julian knew just the right amount of pressure, gripped him harder than any woman ever had, even Cassie, but not hard enough to hurt.

  Except, Seth wanted it to hurt. He wanted physical pain to erase the memories thinking of Cassie had brought back. He reached down and put his hand on the back of Julian's head.

  He didn't stop pumping Seth, but resisted the pressure of his hand. "You gotta be sure, mate. If I do this, it can't be undone."

  "I told you, I'm sure. You're--" Fuck, he was going to sound like a pansy. But he had to say it. "You're my best mate. No one knows me like you do. No one...loves me like you do."

  And as he always had, Jules understood. Seth didn't need to say any more. When Julian's hot mouth wrapped around him, he shuddered. His tongue and lips and the cavern of his mouth were bigger than Seth was used to, the suction stronger, and immediately he started to come. He gritted his teeth and let it pour over him, burst out of him, as his entire body jerked, then again, and again. His cock burned, his scrotum so tight it felt like it would never relax.

  When it was over he curled up into a ball on the rank couch cushions and sobbed like a baby.

  And Julian stayed with him.

  * * * *

  Seth woke slowly this time, awareness of his location and companion seeping in instead of slamming into him.

  It didn't help.

  He squinted against the glare of sun on clouds out the window. Julian, still reading, one leg stretched into the aisle, looked up at him.

  "Jesus fucking Christ." Seth rubbed his hands over his face, hard, trying to shake the dream. He couldn't look at Jules.

  "Nightmare?"

  "You could say that. Excuse me." Seth squeezed past him, making sure to face away. He couldn't handle putting Julian's mouth at crotch level. He headed for the loo at the back of the plane, unable to smile at the few people who looked up and recognized him.

  Edward stopped him just before he reached the loo.

  "Is there something I can get for you, sir?"

  He looked concerned. Seth realized he was sweating and probably wild-eyed. Dammit, they'd be starting rumors that he was using again.

  "No, thank you, I'm just needing the men's room."

  "Very good, sir." He didn't sound convinced, but he did back away so
Seth could get inside.

  He splashed water on his face, icy water that eased his panic slightly. He had a fleeting desire for a hit and banished it immediately. This wasn't about drugs. He very much did not want the lack of control they brought. He didn't need that right now.

  What he needed was Cassie.

  But he was a good two hours out of St. Thomas still, he realized when he checked his watch. He couldn't go sit next to Julian and pretend nothing had happened. And he couldn't stay in here forever.

  Someone knocked on the door. He dried his face and hands, shoved back his damp hair, and unlocked the door. The young woman on the other side went wide-eyed but didn't say anything, so Seth gave her a tiny smile. As the door clicked behind him, he surveyed the coach section of the plane. Like first class, it was less than full. There weren't any completely empty rows, but Seth spotted a seat on the far side that had no one within three seats in any direction. He made his way over there, signing an autograph on the way, and glaring the female flight attendant away.

  He sat with his eyes closed the rest of the flight. No one bothered him, and Julian never came looking for him. Once they landed, he decided to forget about his bags. He knew Jules would take care of them, and if that was unfair of him, for the moment he didn't care. He had to get away.

  Get to Cassie.

  The plane had at least been crowded enough that Julian was forced to disembark before Seth got up to the exit. He was waiting for him at the end of the jetway, but Seth kept a family of six between him and the side Jules stood on, and sped up as soon as the way was clear. He took rare advantage of his celebrity to get through customs ahead of everyone else, and grabbed a taxi to the resort.

  Only on the road did his breathing ease.

  What the fuck was he going to do? He'd never thought his second chance at marriage would be gravy. His addiction, Cassie's job, the renewal of their old lifestyle and all the problems it presented--all of those would make it a challenge. But never had he ever thought Julian would come between them.

  The taxi pulled up in front of the resort's main entrance. Seth had a fleeting impression of pink stucco and masses of flowers as he rushed inside, ignoring the doorman's query about his baggage.

  "Cassie Bryant," he told the smiling clerk at the desk. "I mean, I'm Seth Graham. My wife--fiancée, that is, wife in a few days--she should already be here. Where?"

  The clerk trilled a laugh and typed something on her keyboard. "Been missing her, have you, Mr. Graham?"

  He made some kind of noise of agreement and strained over the counter, trying to see her screen. "Is she on the premises? Maybe she's eating." He looked at his watch but it was still on London time. He had no idea what time it was here. "Or in the spa?" No, Cassie wouldn't be doing the spa thing. Though Georgie would, maybe she'd talked her into it. He tried not to growl at the clerk, who was looking less cheerful now.

  "First let me check you in, Mr. Graham." She handed him a paper. He scrawled his signature, not caring that it was unreadable. "You're in villa three, at the far end of the beach." She slid a key card toward him. He snatched it up and felt the edges dig into his fingers. "Let me call your villa and see if Ms. Bryant is there."

  He waited only until she said Cassie's name, then took off. He ignored the odd looks of the resort's guests as he ran by in un-island-like denim, still wearing the jacket he'd needed back in rainy London, sweaty again, and probably as rumpled and wild-eyed as he'd been on the plane. Lovely. More bloody speculation about his habits.

  He jogged all the way down the crushed shell path to the villa. When he spotted the little yellow building he sped up...and smacked into the door when it didn't open under his hand.

  "Bloody hell." He rubbed his smarting nose with one hand and shoved the card into the slot with the other. The light flashed green and he pushed inside, already bellowing Cassie's name.

  He stopped dead. She stood on the marble floor halfway between the front door and the wide-open balcony on the other side of the living room. Her hair fluttered in the cross-breeze. It was lighter than it had been last time he saw her. She wore a sundress that crisscrossed over her breasts and draped past her hips, something he'd never have believed she would wear, but it suited her. She looked softer and more comfortable in her skin than he could ever remember seeing her. Ever.

  Suddenly his vision blurred, as if life as he knew it had shifted to an alternate reality. Did he know this woman anymore? Was this right, what they were doing? What if marrying her ruined her life again?

  What if it ruined his?

  Then she was in his arms, her mouth devouring his, and everything tilted back into place.

  Until Julian showed up.

  * * * *

  To give him credit, he waited. Seth had time to show Cassie exactly how much he missed her. Then, well-loved, she returned the favor. If he had to struggle not to remember--no, not remember, dammit, it was a dream--Julian's mouth on him as Cassie sucked him to a second blinding orgasm, no one had to know it but him. And it was only because of the dream, not because he wanted Jules instead.

  Cassie noticed something was wrong, though. She curled against him in the plush bed, her arm tight around him, and buried her face in his shoulder. When she pulled her knee up to press his hip into the mattress, Seth sighed.

  "What, love?" He kept his fingers gently moving across her shoulders.

  She shook her head, then rolled slightly away so she could see his face. "What's wrong, Seth?"

  "Nothing."

  Cassie fought the fear that had been growing since Seth burst into the villa. He'd been wild, his hair flying in all directions, his eyes practically bulging. When he saw her he stilled, but there'd been something in his eyes...

  Uncertainty. That was it, and she'd done her best to fuck it out of him, but she could feel it in the tension of his body.

  "You're not sure you want to marry me."

  His hand stilled on her skin. "That's mad."

  "Is it?" She sat up. He let his hand drop to the 450-thread-count sheet. "Don't lie to me, Seth Graham. I won't marry you if I think you're not sure you want to be married."

  There it was again, that look. The fear started to win.

  "Seth."

  "That's not it, Cass, honest." He gulped and opened his mouth, but before he could say anything there was a pounding on the front door and Julian was shouting for Seth.

  Cassie wasn't going to move, wasn't going to let him get away, but Jules yelled again, and she knew he wasn't leaving.

  "Fine." She swung off the bed and snatched up her dress. "I'm going to find Georgie. You deal with your conjoined twin there, and call my cell when you're ready to talk." She pinned him with a glare. "I mean it, Seth. We're straightening this out before the wedding tomorrow."

  She jerked the dress down, made sure it covered her bare ass, and stuck her phone and key card in the pocket. She caught Julian mid-pound and gave him a cool stare that had him raising his eyebrows.

  "Cass."

  "Jules." She looked down at the walk. Seth's bags were there next to Julian's. "You moving in here, or taking Seth with you?"

  "Neither. Where's the asshole?"

  Now her eyebrows went up. "In there." She aimed her thumb inside. "Fix it, Jules. I'm supposed to be getting married tomorrow."

  "I'm trying, Cass."

  She headed down the path, fighting uncharacteristic tears.

  Luckily, Georgie was alone--of course, since Julian was back at Cassie's villa, with Seth, like always--and Cassie didn't have to twist her arm to get her to go for a drink at the poolside bar.

  "Did you see Julian yet?" Cassie sucked on the straw in her fruity concoction, which Georgie had insisted she order instead of her usual straight liquor.

  "No, is he here?" Georgie scooped up a handful of the funky crackers the bar offered instead of nuts. "I thought you were going buggy waiting for Seth and that's why we came out."

  "Seth got here about an hour ago."

  Georgie did the ey
ebrow thing, and Cassie snorted.

  "What?"

  "None of us will need Botox if we keep walking around with these surprised expressions."

  "What?"

  "Never mind." She took a few crackers herself.

  "So why aren't you in bed with Seth?" A trio of buff men strolled by. One of them caught Georgie's attention. He grinned when he realized it, and she smiled back.

  "I was. Julian showed up, and I stormed out. Why do you do that?" She pointed at the men's backs. "I thought Julian was what you've always wanted."

  "He is."

  "And I know he wants you. So why do you hold him off? Because of that?" Her finger stabbed toward the beach, where the guys had headed.

  "No, I don't want that. Though the looks and comments are nice."

  "So why won't you let him in?"

  Georgie flicked her a look. "I have. A few hundred times by now. Maybe a dozen ways you wouldn't have even thought were possible."

  "Georgie," Cassie chided, then stopped. "Wait. How do you know I haven't? Seth is Jules' best friend, after all."

  "Seth is uptight compared to Julian. You know he's up for anything. Even men."

  A few weeks ago, that would have made Cassie laugh and tell her friend about Seth's dreams. They would have built scenarios around the erotic idea, might have even suggested such play to the guys. But now Cassie found it disturbing. Now that she had a feeling those dreams might be destroying her marriage before it had even begun.

  "If he asked you to move to London with him, would you?"

  Georgie's face went serious. "He won't."

  "But would you?"

  "Hell, yes, you know I would." She sighed and toyed with her straw. "I just want him to be sure."

  "Sure of what?"

  "That I'm the one he wants. He says things, you know. About our future. He talks about kids and being old together. But he's had a very different lifestyle than that for a long time. I don't think he can just change overnight."

  "A year is not overnight."

  "It's not a long time, either, when we only see each other every few weeks."

  "He loves you, Georgie. He won't tell you, but it's killing him, thinking you're not serious about him."