by Mandi Beck
“Not better, no. He seems like he cares for her, and she looked happy, but different isn’t better. Willow’s your safe spot; she doesn’t need someone just as safe. She needs that wild love you guys shared because it fires her up, makes her more alive.” Pulling into the valet line at the hotel he looks over at me. “She’s different now though, and I’m not sure how much of that is him, and how much is from what she went through with you.”
Open . . . click . . . closed . . . clack . . . open . . . click . . . closed . . . clack. “She’s Wills. I can’t quit her. I need her, bro. I need her, to be me.” With trembling hands, I slide the lighter back into my pocket and murmur to myself, “My rhythm.”
Willow
“YOU KNOW, YOU KEEP COMING here every day and they’re going to like give you your own VIP booth or some shit.”
“They might.” I laugh, spooning more food into Lyric’s mouth, smiling when that dimple in her cheek pops. “I love it here. It’s quiet, it’s chill, and they have killer sweet treats,” I tell her, looking around Spun fondly.
“Can’t argue that. But you have to admit you’ve been here a ton lately. Why?” Perry is too smart.
Sighing loudly, I wipe a smear of banana off Lyric’s chin. “Stone doesn’t know to look for me here. He pops up randomly every damn place else. I just can’t deal with him right now. I’m hoping he gets tired of all the cat and mouse BS and just goes home to Austin.” The jar of food now empty I get up and toss it, using that time to think about how much I don’t want to talk to Perry about this. Plopping back in the chair I watch her watch me. “What, Per? Just ask whatever it is that you’re trying not to ask.”
“Do you want him to leave? I mean, you’re with JD, and he’s hot as hell. Gorgeous. Pretty near perfect, actually. But we’re talking about Stone fucking Lockhart, Willow.” She lowers her voice and glances around to make sure nobody is eavesdropping. “Stone. Lockhart. Lead singer of Wrecked. And you’re telling me that you want him to go away?” Her hazel eyes are big as saucers, free of makeup the freckles that cover so much of her stunning face stand out, red hair in a high pony, brushing her ears as she tilts her head and just stares at me like I’m absolutely insane. Maybe I am, but there’s so much she doesn’t know, wouldn’t understand, and I’m not ready to tell her.
“It’s complicated. I do know that at this moment I want him gone more than I want him here. Does that count?”
“I suppose it does. I just think you should take one giant step back and look at what I see,” she says, sipping her coffee.
“And what’s that?”
“I see you torn. You have this great guy, but then here’s the love of your life. And I truly believe Stone’s the love of your life. You don’t disappear and move to another country to get away from someone you can resist unless that person is a psycho who beats up on ladies, and I’m pretty sure that’s not your boy. I saw the two of you together before stuff got bad. I remember the first time I met you guys. I did a cover shoot for their album, and I thought, this is what relationship goals look like. The two of you oozed love and respect, and it was beautiful.” Perry leans forward. “You’re torn, and torn isn’t fair to any of you. Don’t do that to yourself or them.” She’s right, about all of it. But to hear it come from her puts so much truth to all of it. A huge weight on my shoulders that I’m being unfair to JD. That’s not what I want.
Stone was the love of my life, but a part of that love died sixteen months ago, and I’m not sure that’s a part of me that can ever be revived. And what about Joaquin? Stone’s right, he may not love me yet, but he cares about me and I care about him. I’m just not sure I’m capable of loving him, or anyone, the way I did Stone at one time, and I’m not sure that’s fair. More confused than ever, I look at my friend watching me with a sad expression, “What do I do, Per?” I ask as I pull Lyric from the highchair and snuggle her onto my lap. Needing her little self to anchor me.
“That I can’t answer for you, my friend. But talking to them might help.”
Perry’s right. I’m not ready to talk to Stone yet. But Joaquin, him I want to talk to. He had to leave early this morning to go to Quebec. Pulling out my phone, I shoot off a text to him.
Me: Dinner at my house tonight?
Joaquin: I’ll be there as soon as I’m done here.
Me: Perfect see you then xoxox
Joaquin: Bisous
“Which one was that?”
I sputter out a laugh. “You make me sound like a ho bag.”
“Definitely not a ho bag, though if I were in your shoes . . .” Perry trails off, trying to hide her mischievous smile behind her mug. “I’ll just live vicariously through you while I give my vaggie patch a vibing.”
“Oh my God, I die.” My laughter can’t be controlled, which makes Lyric giggle. Thankfully she can’t understand what the hell her Aunt Perry just said.
“I need to go to the grocery, wanna come?” I ask when I can finally breathe again.
“I would love to but I have to go home and get this shoot edited and to the magazine by tonight. I’ll come over if I get finished in time though.”
“Nope, JD is coming over for dinner.”
“Oooh la la,” she mocks in an exaggerated French accent.
“Shut up, twat. I’ll save you some leftovers.”
“Of Joaquin or dinner?” Eyelashes batting in innocence until once again we’re laughing uncontrollably.
“Thanks, Per. I needed that. I feel like I haven’t had a whole lot to laugh about in too long. You’re my tribe, woman.”
“And you’re mine, and never ever allowed to leave me. Seriously,” she deadpans and then grins. “Okay, I gotta go. Call me if you need me, and if you need to sample the goods to make a choice, I will take one for the team and watch homemade sex tapes if I must.”
Rolling my eyes, “Not a bad idea, pervy Perry. I’ll keep that in mind.” I stand to leave, Lyric on my hip, when my phone rings with a way too familiar number. How?
“Which one is that?” she jokes again. Ignoring her question, I pass Lyric to her, my face pinched.
“Stone? How did you get this number?” Perry leans in, pressing her ear to mine.
“Birdie, I spent over a year looking for your ass. I made sure I got your number,” he chuckles.
I shake Perry off as she yanks on my arm excitedly. This girl. “What do you want? You calling to say goodbye?”
“You ready to go back to Austin?” he volleys.
“You know my answer to that.”
“I do. That’s why I’m calling to invite you to a little housewarming party I’m throwing. Nothing big. Probably just dinner. Of course you’re welcome to stay as long as you like. You can help me . . . christen my new place like we did ours. I can dig out all the watermelon lollies if you want,” he drawls seductively. I hate myself for reacting to his gravelly voice, and the memory of what he’s done to me with those lollipops. “You remember, dontcha, Wills?” His voice is a low rumble. “I painted your pussy inside and out with that watermelon-flavored lollipop, making you taste even sweeter than you already do. And what did you do?” My breathing is ragged. I should tell him to shut up, but I can’t form words. “You came all over it,” he says huskily. “You remember what I did after that, huh, Birdie? I put it in my mouth and sucked all of you off that sucker before popping it into your pretty mouth so that you could taste too,” Stone groans, the sound making my nipples tighten and skin tingle. “I’ll never eat another watermelon lolli without tasting your pussy, Wills.” I hang up. Before he can say another word, I hang up.
I forgot that Perry had even been listening until she said, a little dazed and flustered, “Holy shit. Did you come? I think I just came.”
I sigh, flustered and dazed myself and take Lyric from her arms. “He has that effect on people.”
“Did he say he bought a house? Here?” Perry asks, clearly perplexed.
“Yep. And I wouldn’t be surprised if it was right next door to mine,” I mumble
.
“Oh, sweetie. You are so fucked. He’s determined.”
“You have no idea.”
Just as I’m tucking a sleeping Lyric into her crib I hear the doorbell. With a last look at my daughter, I grab the monitor and tiptoe out of the room and then fly down the stairs.
“Sorry. I was just laying Lyric down—” I say in a rush only to have the words fall short.
“I’m sorry I missed that, Birdie,” Stone says, leaning casually against the door frame, hands in his pockets. “Mind if I come in?” he asks, flashing me a smile.
“No. You need to go.”
“Joaquin must be on his way over, huh? It’s okay, Wills. I promise not to cause any trouble,” he lies.
Frustrated with him for the third time today, I ask exasperated, “Why are you back, Stone? Why now? I have a man who doesn't cheat on me or go and get high and leave me in a strange city because he’s so coked up he forgot that I was at the hotel waiting for him,” I say bitterly.
“You're right, Wills. I have done that shit. All of it and I'm not proud of a single moment I spent fucked up when I was with you.” He runs his fingers roughly through his hair before puffing out a breath and asking, “Does he write you songs when he can't find the words to tell you how he feels? Does he write the lyrics on your skin so that you can feel them? Does he play the guitar or the piano for you when you can't sleep?” Bending at the knees he takes my chin in his hand and his eyes trace my face before landing on mine. “I fucked up, and I promise you, I'm done. I've been sober, completely clean, for almost a year, and I plan on staying that way for the rest of my life,” Stone says earnestly. “Not one pill or bump was worth losing you. Not my highest high made me feel the way you do. I was just too stupid to realize it. I know she’s mine, Birdie. I know she is. And I don't blame you a bit for keeping her from me, but that's all over now. I'm telling you right here, right now. I'm here, and I’m not going anywhere. I want my family.” The determination in his voice makes me nervous. Causes a pang in my already tender heart. This is Stone. He won’t quit. Before I have a chance to deny his claims, to tell him none of it matters anymore, a voice comes from the walkway.
“Willow? Everything okay here? Is this a bad time?” Joaquin asks.
“If I say yes will you leave?” Stone questions, not taking his eyes off me.
“If Willow wants me to, yes. She’s a big girl, she can make decisions for herself.” JD’s voice is tight.
“I know what she is. More than you ever will.” Stone turns his head slightly, not bothering to face Joaquin fully. Before this can escalate, I step around him.
“Everything is fine, JD. Stone was just leaving,” I inform them both, turning to glare at Stone pointedly.
“Indeed I was. You two have a lovely fucking night.” He steps forward as if to leave and catches me by surprise with a kiss to my cheek, which ends up being more the corner of my mouth than the actual cheek. I jump from the shock of the kiss. The electricity that shoots through every limb at the feel of his lips on me and the actual jolt of him being so bold. Stone backs away, a smirk on the mouth that was just on mine, but I can see what that simple yet complex kiss did to him. “Bye, Birdie. I’ll see you later,” he says quietly before shouldering past Joaquin, hands deep in his pockets, whistling as he saunters loose limbed down the street, confirming my fear that the house he bought is too close.
Shaking my head, I turn my attention to a frowning Joaquin. “Is he going to be a problem?” he asks bluntly.
“Yes,” I answer just as bluntly, making him grimace, but then chuckle.
“At least you’re honest.”
“Always. I’ll never lie to you, Joaquin.”
Nodding, “I know it, chérie. It’s not who you are.”
I reach my hand out for him to take. “Come in, let me feed you.”
Dinner is a little tense at first, both of us thinking about the scene with Stone I’m sure, but everything is fine by the time we get everything cleaned up and settle on the couch. “You keep feeding me like that and I’m going to need to start hitting the gym,” he jokes. As he lays his head in my lap, the sound of James Bay quietly fills the room.
“He reminds me a lot of you,” I tell him. “He’s so soulful and his voice so pure. Just like you.” Running my fingers through his hair, I look down at him and smile. Content in this moment, the earlier debacle a distant memory. Until he speaks.
“What happened between you and Stone?” he asks quietly.
I look at him startled. “What?”
“You and Stone? What happened? It's obvious he still loves you and you yourself have told me that there's a part of you that will always love him—”
“JD—” I interrupt guiltily. I remember that very brief conversation early in our relationship.
“No, chérie, it's okay. I just want to understand your relationship with him a little better. Can you do that for me?” He shifts us so that it’s me lying down now. Blinking back the tears that are already forming, I nod. How can I deny him anything? He's been so good to me. So giving and understanding. And he deserves to know the truth. So with my head in his lap and him stroking my hair, silently brushing away my tears, I tell him. All of it. All of the pretty and the ugly. I tell him about the highs of loving Stone and the desperately low lows. And all the while he just listens. The only indication of his feelings is the tensing of his body underneath me. When I'm finished, and the tears are still flowing, I look up at him and expect to find pity or disgust on his face, but all I see are chocolate eyes shimmering with his own tears and pride, compassion, maybe even love.
“All this time you've said nothing. To anyone looking at you, they would never see the hurt, the pain, right under the surface. You're so brave, Willow.”
Embarrassed, I also feel a sense of relief. Like a weight has been lifted. So few know the whole story, the real story. I’ve shared a piece of me that I keep hidden from the world. It’s a testament of how much I trust this man. It’s a great feeling. One I’ve not had in awhile.
“Let me stay tonight. I need to be close to you,” Joaquin says softly, coasting a finger down the side of my face.
Without meeting his eyes, I start hesitantly, “JD . . . I—”
“Shhh, I just want to hold you. Nothing more.”
I don’t know how to explain to him that the thought of being in bed with him terrifies me. How many virile men can and would just “sleep” in bed with their girlfriend? None that I know. So I reach. “Lyric still doesn’t sleep through the night, she’ll end up waking you up.”
“Let her. I’ll get up and you can stay in bed. Let me do this for you. Hell, for me. I promise, I only want to be near you. I understand that you’re not ready for more. I can see it written all over your face right now, and I swear to you I would never push you. I’m happy to just be with you.” The sincerity in his voice is my undoing.
“Okay,” I whisper.
“Okay.” He smiles.
And just like that, I invite another man into my bed other than Stone for the first time in . . . ever.
Stone
SITTING ON THE BACK PORCH of my new place with the guys, who have all moved out of the hotel and into the house, I listen to Judge making a to-do list . . . out loud.
“Okay, Addy is helping your sister pack up some of your stuff now, the moving truck will be there tomorrow to pick it up and pack up the other things you wanted,” he says.
“Did you tell Addy where to find the box of letters?” I ask, inhaling from the cigarette clamped between my fingers.
“I did. And the picture and your Fender and your truck keys.”
“Oh, good. I love my Martin, but now that we’re out of the hotel, I need to shred. We’ll have to get someone over here to work on a studio.” Nobody says anything. They don’t tell me that I’m getting ahead of myself, or that I might not be here that long. Judge just nods and lets his fingers fly over the iPad. I’m glad. I don’t want to have to drop the bomb on them that I’
m here to stay just yet. As long as Wills is here, together or not, this is where I’ll be. “I also want you to find a decorator and have them turn one of the bedrooms upstairs into a nursery.” Again, a nod and flying fingers. I don’t dare look at Law or Arrow because if they even hint at the possibility of Lyric never being in it, I’ll wig the fuck out.
“Have we heard from the label yet with the dates for the promo tour?” Arrow asks, looking up from his phone.
“Addy is going to fax that schedule over to me this afternoon. They were trying to come to an agreement with a couple of the talk shows on dates. One is going to be an outdoor show in New York.” Judge puts the tablet down and leans back in his chair. I take another drag and go to flipping my lighter open and closed. It’s becoming an annoying habit. The last time I was in New York was the day that Willow walked away. I need another reminder of that night like I need a fucking hole in my head.
“Speaking of dates, we have the award show next month. I just got the email confirming our presence and your performance. I’m sure that Law told you while you were in Paradise that we were nominated for Group of the Year again.” When he doesn’t say anything more, though I can tell that he wants to, I glance up at Judge and see him watching me.
“Yeah, he did.” I wait and still he just looks at me. “What, bro?” I ask on an exhale of blue smoke.
“Joaquin will be there. He’s been nominated. He’ll also be performing . . .”
“Do you know which song?” Gut churning, I pray to whoever the fuck will listen that it’s not Willow’s song. I’m sure it is when Judge doesn’t say anything. “We’re doing a song off the new album then,” I insist.
“Stone, be reasonable. You guys haven’t been in the studio in weeks, and you haven’t rehearsed any of them enough.”
“We don’t need a lot of time to rehearse,” Arrow interjects. “We know them. Plus, we’ll be doing them all on this promo tour, so we need to be ready.” He turns to me. “We can do any song you want. I’m pretty sure I know what your choice is, and I’m fine with that.”
