Stolen Tyme

by S. L. Ziegler

  His words slam through me as I walk backward. I shouldn’t have read deeper into his joke at dinner with Reed. Xavier didn’t mean anything.

  I stand motionless in the center of the room, the same room that only five minutes prior, Xavier had said he was all in—cashing in his chips. Our reality blurring from what I believed. If it’s not a child, and it’s not marriage, I don’t have a clue what it will be.

  “Hey, what has you looking like you saw a ghost?”

  I blink rapidly as Xavier comes into focus. His face pinched with worry, but I can’t bring myself to confront him about what I overheard. The truth that comes out of him seems harder to digest.

  “Huh?”

  He takes another step closer, his hand lands on my side, and it takes everything in me not to flinch at his touch. Xavier hurt me, and I still can’t tell him I’m frightened by what the backlash will be. It’s in my throat.

  “You’re white as the wall. Are you sure you’re okay?” He’s concerned about me, and he has every right to be with what’s growing in the depths of my soul.

  I draw in a shaky breath, gaining the second I need to gather just the right words to say to him. “Yep…I just need to grab a protein bar out of my bag.”

  “Let me get it for you...”

  “No.”

  X’s head snaps at my tone.

  “Sorry, you said we were in a hurry. I’ll eat it on the way.” That way I can stay quiet the whole way to wherever he’s taking me with food in my mouth as an excuse.

  Xavier’s forehead grows taut as he studies me before saying, “If you say so.”

  Something faint moves over his features with his words, something that looks like a whole lot of pity.

  The road curves, and with each mile we drive, X’s hand never leaves my thigh. With a light stroke of his thumb, he instinctively knows I need his touch to calm my spirit. But he seems to want my touch just as much. His mouth moves with nonstop chatter about everything but who was on the other end of the phone.

  I lay my palm on his, yearning for the connection he always gives. Turning my head, I study him—every inch of his hard face is beautiful, the tattoos covering his arms match who he has grown to be. This man is one of a kind, he will lay his life on the line for his child, he would do anything to make me happy. No matter what I overheard in the cabin, I know in the center of his heart, he loves me. Marriage or not, children or not, he does. Hands down, he loves me. Xavier is more than the one conversation I overheard—he’s just…more. And as we pass the road, I move on, because there’s no use in pondering what might have been from a one-sided conversation.

  We pull into a spot, and Xavier goes silent as we walk through the gravel parking lot. The smell of smoke billows out as he opens the door, the neon bar lights flash all over the walls, and the sounds of old country music ring out.

  X turns to me, his rough palms meeting my face. “I love you, you know that?”

  “Yes?” It comes out like a question; his nervous energy is clearly rubbing off on me.

  He tilts his head. “How much did you like that song I sang to you?”

  “It was one of my favorites.” Both for the words and the memories of the piano after.

  “Mine too. Which got me thinking about this place. They do a karaoke night that’s kind of famous in the world of songwriting. And I thought we could give it a go here to see if people like it.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Then, like a flash of light, it clicks. “Did you say we? As in two people, me and you? You and me on that stage together?”

  “Yep. I want to sing it. With you. It was missing something, then the idea of mixing you in popped in and bam. Genius music making right there.” His smile splits his face in two, yet I don’t see the genius behind his light bulb moment.

  It sounds awful, broken-bulb horrific.

  I place my hand on his arm. “Let’s think about this for just one moment. You want me to get up on the stage. With you. To sing a song I’ve never sung and only heard once. Yep, not happening.”

  He’s lost it. Completely lost it. Utterly gone.

  “Yes, it is,” Xavier says with all the confidence in the world.

  Nope, it’s not. Hands down not happening. Not today, not tomorrow, maybe never. Hell to the no. With him, I feel open and raw, and the music will bring that out even more.

  X drops his hands from me just when a tap on a mic gathers everyone’s attention. “Good evening Bucky’s, and welcome to open mic night. Like always, we are fully booked, and the first one on the list to get up on the stage and shred their dignity is Xavier Scott, but sorry ladies, he isn’t by himself this time.”

  “Fucking first? You’re going up there first, and you wanted this to be my surprise?” My heart beats in my chest, it silences all other sounds around.

  “I always go first.”

  “What…you’ve done this before?”

  “Yes, every song I’ve written in the last seven years has been sung on that stage.” Xavier sounds as if this is as easy as putting pants on in the morning. It’s anything but.

  “But…”

  “Xavier, get your gorgeous ass up on this stage.” The lady up on the stage halts our conversation.

  Grabbing his arm, like it’s my lifeline, I plead, “X, I can’t do this.” I’m shaking. I’m lost. I’m not me.

  “Just sit up there, next to me with a mic. That’s all I’m asking from you. At least for today. If you feel the harmony, join in. But we have to go up there before we lose our spot.”

  Forget knees shaking for nerves, it’s my whole body. Every time I have stepped on stage, I’ve had butterflies, some stage nerves. But this time is totally different. I don’t have the prep I normal have, and I haven’t even practiced one of the notes—it’s a mess. A legit mess. I’m one big pile of mess for this whole bar to see.

  But still, I follow him up with no other questions. Even with my world spinning out of control, he makes me reckless in the best way possible.

  “Hello everyone. You will have to excuse my girlfriend; I sprung this on her. But she’ll join in. I know she can’t just hold a mic and not do it for you. Excuse me if the tune is off, couldn’t bring my own and not have her suspicious.” He throws me a wink as he pulls up the guitar from the side of the stage. “This is different from my other songs you may have heard. It’s still as sappy as all my other shit, but this one isn’t about losing. It’s all about winning the girl this time.”

  X closes his eyes with the first strum of the guitar. He’s lost in the music; his head moves to each word that leaves his mouth. He’s beautiful in his element. With the people stuck on every note, every word.

  It’s magic. The same magic I fell in love with when I was a teenager just listening to him through the radio.

  It’s lightning.

  It’s wind.

  It’s energy.

  It’s his truth.

  Our truth.

  And it’s in his truth that I bring the mic up to my mouth and sing with him. Our eyes lock the moment our voices mesh together, and it’s perfection.

  Heart-stopping, head-exploding perfection.

  Xavier was right—this is genius.

  Chapter 17

  Xavier

  My hands couldn’t move fast enough to get her naked as the door crashed against the wall. I couldn’t have given two shits about the damage I left in our wake. Nothing has turned me on more than seeing Naomi and the words I wrote coming out of that hot-ass mouth of hers, and this time, right next to me. I could savor it for the rest of my life. I had to have her—take her—own her. Every damn delicious inch of her, and time wasn’t going to stand in my way.

  She stole my heart again on the stage.

  And now I have her right where I want her—legs spread wide on my floor, every inch of her with not one stitch of clothing on, ready for me to devour.

  “X, don’t,” Naomi moans out, the beat of her heart skyrocketing against my own.

  “Don’t what? R
ub my dick right here?” The sense of urgency drives me to get closer to her.

  Good thing I’m already on my knees, because the way her heat presses on my cock is enough to bring me to them. She is the ride I want to drive the rest of my fucking life.

  “I can’t come again.”

  The word “can’t” never did stop me. She will, again and again. It’s something I have to do.

  “Oh, I beg to differ, and so does this lovely cunt of yours. It’s welcoming this dick of mine, openly,” I say, sliding into her.

  Her body pulls me back into her.

  Slow. Steady.

  Fast. Furious. It’s her calling me to move. It’s our turbulence around.

  This passion we share won’t ever die or fizzle out. I’ll make sure of it any way I can. And with her, it won’t be a damn job, but a fucking mission. My fucking mission.

  She opens her mouth slightly, her chest rising with each movement of my hips, calling to me to sink my teeth into her as her eyes rake boldly over me. It should be a problem, that one glance from Naomi sends the blood flowing through my body like a damn raging river. I would give anything to have her look into my eyes like that every day of my life.

  My lips recapture hers, demanding all of her. Naomi threads her fingers through my hair and the beat of my heart hammers in my ears as her cunt squeezes my dick. Over and over. She tightens around my cock, and I explode, chasing her rush.

  Gritting my teeth, the fire of holding out spreads along me as I come inside her.

  I brush the hair away from Naomi’s flushed face as she breaks into a slow grin, lost in the waves still crashing through her body.

  I did this to her, and I’ll do it over and over again.

  Naomi wraps the flannel blanket around her naked body, the steam from her warm apple cider fanning her face. And she’s never looked more beautiful to me. The mountains have done something to her, put her together more than she was before, and I can’t get enough. It must be all this love on the brain.

  “I was meaning to ask you…if you shared your songs at Bucky’s, why didn’t anyone tell?”

  Sitting next to her, bringing her tight against my body, I confess, “It’s kind of an untold promise when you step foot into that place. You share a song there, no one will steal or share it. But that could have been where the truth came out about the song you did with Dylan.” I guess I’ll never know the truth about who shared that secret, but I’m glad it’s no longer something I have to keep quiet. It’s something that was pounding on my brain.

  “I still can’t believe not one paparazzi has hounded you since then. I thought they would’ve shown up on your doorstep the morning they found out.”

  So did I, but it never happened, and the phone calls asking for the truth disappeared just as fast. “I shouldn’t have kept it a secret for that long, because now that it’s out, it’s like I’m forgotten. If this song goes out into the world, I have a feeling that will change, though.” I don’t have that feeling; I know it will change. I will be out there, with my words coming out of my mouth again. I will be the second chance that Hollywood loves to exploit. I’ll have all eyes on me to watch and see if I’ll fall and crash again. But I’ll only do it if Naomi agrees.

  “If?”

  “Yes, this song…I want it out there for everyone, and I want to be the person to sing it, but I’ll only do it on one condition. You would have to be next to me.”

  “I’ll do it.” Naomi’s sweet voice is her own melody; her consent is all I need.

  “You will?” My smile widens in her quick approval.

  Naomi bites her lip to stifle her grin. “I will. Something about being up there on the stage with you was just—right. Dylan never felt that way.”

  “You didn’t belong up there with anyone else but me.” It was always me. Glad she’s finally getting that through her thick skull.

  “No, I guess I didn’t. As much as I want you to say you were wrong and be pissed at you for springing it on me, I can’t. The whole time you were up there, all I could think was that it was magic. And the thought of doing it again and again brought a smile to my face. Or hell, listening to us on the radio is even bigger. And think about prepping together for the next time—that alone gives me chills.”

  “Chills. Are you sure it isn’t because you’re buck-ass naked under that blanket?”

  Naomi’s face brightens just at the mere mention of her body. And I love it. We are running in a circle that won’t ever end, and the more I touch her, the more I’m in the same air she breathes—I know this circle isn’t ever going to break apart. It’s a breath of fresh air. She saved me without even knowing it. Naomi made me better piece by piece.

  If this is the reality of my future, I’ll never want to do anything but keep looking forward.

  Callum’s face is static through the FaceTime call.

  “Just make it happen, I don’t care how, but I want it out soon. I’m talking sooner rather than later. And the sooner being right now. Naomi is on board to get it out, too.”

  Callum leans back on the stool, studying me. “Do you think this is a good idea? She seems to be in now, but do you want the world to know she makes you this weak?”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “Calm down, dude. I’m just saying, what if after this is said and done, she leaves, and this time, she doesn’t come back. That could very well happen. You’ll be a mess, and once the song is out there, nothing can be done to stop it, and you will have to deal with that fallout every single time you have to perform. I’m not sure you know what you’re getting yourself into by putting this plan in motion.”

  “Have some faith in my decisions. She won’t leave this time.” I turn away, glancing inside where Naomi is still naked with a single blanket covering her. She’s sleeping just as peacefully as when I walked out.

  “What makes you so sure she won’t? And to top this shit off, you will be in the limelight for the first time. You and the pressure don’t always mix.”

  “Callum, I didn’t fucking use the last time we broke up. I know that shit isn’t the answer. And to answer your other question, I just know Naomi better this time.” And I do. She won’t leave me, not that Naomi willingly left last time. She hasn’t said it outright, but we have our own silent communication about where our future’s going, and she’s screaming to stay.

  “What are you going to do if she changes her mind? Kidnap her?”

  “I won’t need to.” Although, I will if she plans to leave. My intentions are good, though.

  “Whatever you say. But I’ll be the first person in line to tell you I told you so.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” In me, in her. I hate him for this.

  “X, it’s not that. I don’t doubt she has feelings for you, strong ones at that. I would have to be blind not to see that, but she’s young. Fucking young as hell. When you were her age, you were still snorting shit up your nose, touring with us, and sleeping with anyone who would spread their legs for you. You didn’t know what you wanted out of life. Why would she know?”

  “Naomi is different than we were.”

  Different in every single way that counts. If she wanted the sex and drugs that the life on stage offers, then Naomi would have done it the years she was gone. She didn’t. And she wouldn’t now.

  “I know this, but people evolve, feelings change over the course of time, and you’re intense together. Like magnets or something. Not always the best thing to do for a recovering addict. What happens this time around if someone says they want her to do something like, I don’t know…a show in Vegas, or tour, or something else she may really want. You won’t do those things. You can’t do those things—you’ve said that yourself. So what will happen with the relationship?”

  “I won’t let her leave forever again. I won’t question her decisions, and I won’t tell her not to go, but it won’t be one-sided.”

  I’ll get what I want in this. I won’t be stuck in reverse over so
mething that may not happen. She’s my guide home, and I refuse to see it for anything but that.

  “If you say so, man. But don’t make it one-sided on your part and hold onto something that may just mean it was supposed to be a fling.”

  A fling. If he were right in front of me, I would wring his fucking neck. If we were supposed to be a fling, then fate wouldn’t have dropped her off right in front of me again. That isn’t a fling, that’s the real thing. The love we share won’t come from those.

  I run my hands through my hair. “Jesus, Callum, I swear I want to fucking deck you right now. You don’t know shit about us. I want this to be different, and do me this one favor. Don’t make this more complicated for me.”

  This is the hardest thing I have ever done, opening myself up to someone so freely.

  “I got your back, I always have one hundred percent, and I’m not trying to piss you off. But I refuse to just tell you what you want to hear. I will always say what’s on my mind, and this has been screaming at me. The minute I sugarcoat that, you’ve lost me as your best friend.”

  “I get that, but you’ve never been in love. It was her for seven years. Seven fucking years, Callum. That’s a long time, and I’m not going to say fuck it and turn away from that. You don’t understand what we share.”

  If he were anyone else from my past, I would say he was jealous, but I know Callum. Other than my relationship with Lock, he is the closest person I have to a brother.

  He stays silent, his brows pinched tightly together. I’ll give him time, but if I can’t open his mind to what we have, then I could give less than two shits.

  “I didn’t want to tell you; I thought Naomi would, but by the way you’re acting, I don’t think she has.”

  I sit up straight, the expression staring back at me through the screen of my phone is speaking volumes. “What the fuck are you talking about? No puzzle shit. Tell me.”

  “You know that show Naomi was working on when she got to town? The one you told me she wouldn’t let you read?”