Fearless

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Fearless Page 17

by Priscilla West


  He played a final chord, then looked up with soulful eyes. "Riley, let me come up. Please. I just want to talk."

  I tore my eyes away, suddenly paralyzed with indecision. He'd made a sweet gesture—but he'd also made a complete disaster of things when we were together. Eyes wide, I turned around to Kristen. "Oh God, Kris, what do I do?"

  One of the baby shower attendees, a woman I'd only met a few times named Bev, butted in with a response before Kristen could say anything. "Is he serenading you? That's so freaking romantic," she said, her voice sounding dreamy.

  Kristen narrowed her eyes. "That's Riley's ex," she said, and Bev suddenly bit her lip, looking chastised.

  "And I was hoping I'd never have to see him again," I said to Kristen. "So of course he shows up."

  Kristen eyed me with one brow raised. "Hey, I'm all for girl power, but are you sure that's what you really think? To me, it sure looks like you've been pining over him since you left California."

  I glared at her. "You're not helping." The last thing I needed was a reminder of how emotionally bereft Jax's breakup had left me.

  "Suit yourself," she said, stirring her virgin cocktail idly. "I'd just hate for you to regret later on that you didn't talk to him. Even if it's just to tell him to fuck off."

  Bev gave me a look with one raised eyebrow. "He's got a pretty great voice. And he's gorgeous. If you don't want him, I'll take him."

  We both shot her a dismayed glance, and she was quiet again.

  "Look," I said, a skeptical look on my face, "I'm not going to set myself up to get hurt again. After how we ended, why would I even want to listen to what he has to say?"

  "You don't have to jump into bed with him," Kristen said. "I'm just saying, hear the guy out. Let him speak his piece. He obviously cares a lot, or he wouldn't be here."

  "So, what, you're saying I should just invite him up? Now? In the middle of your baby shower with half the socialites in Manhattan attending? If he wants to come up that badly, he can wait for a better time."

  Suddenly, Kristen got a mischievous look in her eye.

  "Ladies!" she yelled, tapping a spoon to her glass to get the room's attention. "This party is officially moving down the block to the first cafe we find, whether Riley likes it or not, and I don't want to hear any complaints. Got it?"

  The women immediately erupted into chatter, and Kristen leaned out the window. "Riley wants to see you up here. Third floor." She paused, looking around the room at the mess we'd made for the party, then seemed to consider. "Maybe you'd better give her ten minutes."

  My eyes flickered instantly to the clock: 2:07. Giggles and murmurs came up from the crowd as everyone started to move toward the door at once—even the caterers. My jaw gaped open as I looked at Kristen. "Why are you doing this for me?" I asked. "You don't even want me to be with Jax."

  She shook her head and took both my hands into hers. "I want you to be happy, Riley. And I know you've been really unhappy for weeks. If that man down there makes you feel better . . ." she said, tilting her head toward the window, "then I'm not going to stand in the way. Hear him out, tell him to go to hell if you need to, and call me if you need anything at all."

  My eyes filled with tears. Her friendship meant more to me than I could ever say. "Thanks, Kris," I whispered.

  "It's nothing. Now wipe those tears away before he comes up here!" She grabbed her purse and made a beeline for the door.

  Dabbing my eyes as I moved through my living room, I looked around. There's no way you can cover this mess up, I realized, looking around as the last guest closed the door behind her.

  In a frenzy, I shoved piles of baby presents and marked-up onesies toward one corner before snatching down banners and stuffing them into the pile. I crammed plates into the sink and stopped for a moment to look at myself in the full-length hallway mirror. Shit. My hair was kind of a mess, my dress was rumpled from sitting. The clock read 2:14. Only seven minutes had passed.

  And then I heard a knock.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  FEARLESS

  I walked toward the door, my heart thumping practically out of my chest. Before I could even reach the knob, the door opened inward, revealing Jax, in the flesh, suddenly so close I could catch a hint of his scent.

  "I couldn't wait ten minutes," he said, his low voice sending tremors through my body. The raw earthiness of him reminded me of the passionate embraces we'd once shared, and a stab of pain shivered through my body. To see him again, and to know I had lost him, tore my heart in two.

  "Jax!" I said, my voice sharp with hurt. "What are you doing here?"

  He slung the guitar off his shoulder and rested it on the floor. Without it he suddenly seemed at a loss for words. He took a deep breath and looked me in the eyes before he began to speak. "I had to see you. I didn't know if you'd let me come up, but I had to talk to you."

  "Well . . . you're here now," I said dubiously. My heart ached with longing, but I wasn't about to show him any vulnerability. I couldn't—not after what happened last time. It was already too much. "I kind of thought you'd said everything you needed to say."

  He flinched. "I did a lot of stupid things when we were together," he said quietly. There was pain behind his eyes as he looked at me, but he didn't break away. "I'm sorry. I know I fucked up. The things I'm about to tell you don't come easy. So I'm going to need you to just listen for a minute. Okay?"

  I pressed my lips closed tight, a renewed frustration coiling up in my chest. After the way Jax and I had ended, I wasn't sure what he had left to say. Questions flooded my mind. Didn't it make him crazy when he saw me? Would he hallucinate, or freeze up? Why come here and take the risk?

  I gave him a curt nod and stepped aside. He walked slowly into my apartment and stopped, as if not sure if he was welcome any further. Standing there, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he started to speak in a low, strained voice.

  "I know this is selfish but I need you. Every day without you is like trying to breathe underwater. I'm drowning, Riley. I know I said it was impossible for us to be together, but . . . I want to give us a chance. Tell me we can make this work."

  I stood there, reeling. I'd never expected so much emotion to come at once from Jax. It was a good speech. For some girls, maybe it would have been enough. But not me. I couldn't let him back into my heart, because I couldn't stop thinking about how hard he'd pushed me away.

  So I pushed back. "You know, that's what I was about to do, that day at the festival. I was about to tell you we could make it work. And instead of talking to me, you tried to push me away with some silicon-enhanced bimbo."

  "I deserve that," he said quietly, looking stung. "I know that was crazy."

  "And stupid. And childish."

  He nodded, looking ashamed. "I'm sorry, Riley. My mind was racing. All I could think about was what my therapist had said. I felt like a ticking time bomb. I needed something that would make you leave right away. All I wanted was for you to be far enough from me that you weren't caught up in the blast."

  I licked my lips, the bitter taste of the memory washing over me as fresh as the day it happened. "Because when I'm around you, you feel worse," I said. "At least, that's what you said then. What's so different now?"

  "What's different is that now I'm sure I won't direct those feelings at you. I'm going to work through them and make sure they never hurt you again."

  "It's not that easy, Jax," I said, folding my arms in front of my chest. "If we got back together, wouldn't I just keep reminding you of Darrel?"

  His nostrils flared, and his chiseled features grew hard. "Of all the things I hate that prick for, the biggest one is that I drove you away because of him. I'm done with having my life controlled by a sick, twisted old man."

  My heart leapt at the fire and conviction in his voice, but I couldn't help worrying that he was promising more than he could deliver. "So what, you're all better now?" I asked, desperately trying to keep the skepticism i
n my voice. "Done with the breaking things, the hallucinations? Just like that?"

  He took my chin into his hand, cradling it as he looked into my eyes. Against my will, my heart felt warmed by his touch. "I'm saying that from now on, I'm not taking that pain and anger out on the band, or on you. Darrel hurt me, but I can't let him win. I can't let him control my life forever. I can't let his anger keep hurting us both."

  I looked at him closely, surprised at how his words resonated with what I'd been thinking the night before we broke up. It wasn't like him to talk so much about emotions, or Darrel. "Are you still going to therapy?"

  "I am," he said, the words spilling out quickly. "And will be for a long time. It doesn't get better overnight. I'm just getting better at directing my anger in therapy, not at everyone around me."

  I swallowed. Did I trust Jax enough to give him another chance? Kristen was right, my heart yearned to take him back—I'd been fighting my longing for him for weeks. But my mind knew there were still a hundred things that could go wrong. "It's a big risk," I said quietly. "For you as much as for me."

  "It's a risk. But it's a bigger risk to lose you. You're my inspiration. You're all I think about. I . . ." he paused, seemingly steeling himself. "I love you, Riley."

  Time stopped. Suddenly, I felt like I could hear every noise in the room: the blades of the ceiling fan circling through the air. The street vendors three stories below taking orders. My own beating heart.

  In all the time I'd known Jax, that was a word I'd never heard pass his lips. Not even when I'd said it to him.

  It was the biggest little word that had ever come between us. I stood there, speechless.

  "I love you," he said, reaching for my cheek. "I don't know how long I've loved you, but I know that when you're gone, it's like the music goes out of my bones. I acted like a complete idiot to make you leave, and I refuse to make the same mistake twice. I love you."

  I squeezed his hand instinctively even as what-ifs swirled around in my mind. While I was sure Jax would get better than he'd been at the end of the tour, there was no guarantee he'd ever fully recover from his trauma. But he was taking responsibility, admitting he was wrong . . . and showing that he was going to make it different this time around.

  But it was more than that, I knew, feeling warmth suffuse through me. I'd never felt as at home with anyone. I'd never known someone who could make my heart beat faster like he did, just from being in the same room. I'd never known anyone who made me laugh so hard.

  I searched for words, trying to figure out how to tell him what I was feeling. "I've been wanting to hear that for a while," I said slowly.

  "I know. And I understand if you can't take me back, or won't. I fucked things up. I did things I can't take back."

  He looked miserable, but I wasn't finished yet. "I've been thinking about love a lot since you made me leave," I said, keeping my voice even, though my heart was pounding wildly. "Because falling in love with you was easy. Too easy."

  "Easy doesn't begin to describe it," Jax admitted. "I don't think I could have helped it if I'd tried."

  "But people say love is hard work for a reason. It's hard work because it means you have to choose to keep it up, even when things are hard."

  "I know. And I let you down." His face twisted with disappointment.

  I shook my head and looked up at him. "That kind of trying takes two people. If I'm going to do this again, I can't be the only one who's willing to keep going when things are hard."

  "You won't be." His hand reached out toward my face, but instead brushed against the "It's a Boy" banner hanging on the cabinet next to me.

  Suddenly, he paused with a quizzical look, seeming to notice the apartment for the first time, and let go of my arms. His brow furrowed as he took in the disaster area of the baby shower's aftermath. He gently lifted a corner of the banner, blinking incredulously. "Is this . . . Riley, are you having a baby?"

  We'd always used protection, and anyhow, even if somehow I'd gotten pregnant with Jax, it would have been way too early for me to have had a baby shower. Then again, as a rock star, I doubted Jax had been to many baby showers. I couldn't resist a moment of teasing.

  "So what if I am?" I said, flicking one eyebrow up.

  His face contorted, expressions flickering across his eyes that I couldn't understand. "Oh my God, Riley. I'm so sorry you didn't feel like you could tell me . . ." He took a deep breath. "It's going to be okay. If we can get through that night at Darrel's, we can get through this, too. Together."

  I burst out into a laugh. "Jax! I wasn't serious!"

  He squinted at me, looking utterly baffled. I'd only meant to tease him a little. Instead, he was telling me that he was willing to try parenting with me—I couldn't help but feel secretly a little bit happy, even though the rational side of me said one step at a time.

  "There's no baby," I said. "Well, there is a baby. But it's not mine. This party was for my best friend, Kristen."

  Relief flooded his face, and his arms enclosed around me again.

  "Riley, I want to make this work, whatever it takes. You're my inspiration," he said, caressing the small of my back. "Your song brought me back from the brink. Until I heard it, it was like I couldn't write anything. I couldn't sing anything."

  I blushed. "It wasn't much of a song."

  "It was yours. And that's all that mattered." His eyes shone into me like a fire, warming me from the inside out. "You're worth holding onto, whatever it takes. I'm never going to push you away again. Just . . . tell me you'll let me try to make this work."

  His words struck me to my core, and my soul thrilled with the conviction that he'd meant every one of them."If we're going to do this, it's going to take both of us," I said, my heart beating wildly. "It's going to be a lot of hard work."

  His hard features suddenly seemed softer, more hopeful. "Are you saying you still want to try?"

  "I'm saying that I love you, Jax." I wrapped my arms around him. "And if we love each other, then there's only one way we can do it."

  His scarred brow raised, a silent question mark.

  "Fearlessly," I said, standing on tiptoes to touch my lips to his.

  In an instant, I felt his mouth pressing against mine as he pinned me back against the wall. My lips parted, and I felt his tongue slide in, sensuous and warm, sending a thrill into me that went all the way to my fingertips.

  My head spun with desire as we clutched each other close. He moved his lips away, then brought them back to mine for another kiss, even more passionate than the last.

  My fingers moved to the hem of his t-shirt, lifting it up over his taut muscles, and I stared with naked, unabashed lust at the golden skin of his chest. Before I could say anything more, his hands had started to strip my clothes away, and I felt my bra unhooking behind me as my top came off. Strong hands lifted me upward, and my legs wrapped instinctively around Jax's waist. Devouring one another's mouths hungrily, we shed pieces of clothing one at a time.

  When we got to my bed, he laid me down in it gently, staring down at me with a tenderness I'd never seen in him before. But there was something else, too, something new and possessive and primal. I couldn't wait to see where our bodies would take us next.

  "I love you, Jax," I said, quivering with anticipation as he stood naked at the bed's edge, lit by the afternoon sun.

  He teased my legs apart with gentle hands. "I love you, too, Riley," he said, kissing the inside of my thighs.

  We didn't get out of bed until the next morning.

  Epilogue

  Five months later

  The steam shower felt almost too good to get out of, but the evening was barely getting started.

  I turned the faucet off, casting a regretful look at the bathroom. Too bad we're only staying until Monday, I thought. There were a lot of things New York City did better than Hollywood, but hotel suite bathrooms were definitely not among them.

  As I toweled off my wet hair, I looked down at the bathroom counter
. The L.A. Times was folded over to a headline: Arsonist Gets Third Strike. I touched the newspaper with damp fingers, feeling victorious as I read the lines. Thanks to a couple of previous felony charges for grand theft auto, it looked like Darrel was never going to be seeing the outside of a prison cell again.

  And it was all because of us.

  When the arson investigators called a few weeks after Jax and I got back together, they wanted to talk about Anarchy Fest. Apparently, they'd found evidence of arson but most of their leads had gone cold, so they were asking performers.

  We told them everything we knew—and I even remembered to tell the investigators that Jax thought he'd seen Darrel. It turned out the side of the stage where Jax spotted him was right where the fire had started. They took it as a tip and searched his property, and found plenty of evidence for not just the Anarchy Fest arson, but half a dozen other unsolved crimes related to the Reapers.

  They even found pictures he'd taken of us, showing how he'd followed Jax and me almost everywhere after that night. After Jax realized his "hallucinations" had actually been Darrel, he calmed down a lot. Every week, he was making progress in therapy, and his nightmares were getting under control.

  I smiled, taking one last look at the article, and tossed the paper in the trash. Sometimes, you really could put the past behind you.

  On the counter below the paper was a tiny box, with a little note on top. "With so much to celebrate, I couldn't resist. — J"

  I grinned at the surprise—he must have left it there while I was showering. Opening the lid, I saw a dangling pair of earrings that dripped with emeralds and diamonds. Oh my god, Jax. I marveled as I took them out of their velvet-lined box, watching how the gems sparkled in the light. They matched my dress for the show perfectly.

  Suddenly, I had an idea. I twisted my hair up, put the earrings on one by one, then dropped the towel.

  The earrings glittered enticingly, contrasting against my pale skin and red hair. Perfect. I walked out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a seductive smile.

 

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